#i keep getting worried everythings gonna fuckin crash LOL

[punkcherries]

i only have like 35 seconds worth of animation done on the ruler of everything infinity train thing and csp already lags like crazy just trying to render like 5 seconds of it aksjflasdfj

#cherryz txt #i keep getting worried everythings gonna fuckin crash LOL #i wanna get it done by the next uhh finish infinity train thing on twitter but i probably wont f

[whumpzone]

Linden & Colton - 19

(masterpost)

CW: references to noncon, Col fearing he'll be sexually abused, flashbacks, brief victim blaming, pet whump, dehumanisation

-

Linden’s phone buzzed again, and he knew exactly who it’d be before he even looked.

Sure enough, messages from his brother were crowding his phone screen. Vikram texted in small, frantic messages, that Linden found oddly funny.

lol fine knowing you you’ll never suggest a day

are you free tomorrow? I’ll come over for lunch or something

you know you miss me!!

Linden rolled his eyes, but truth be told, he did miss him. A new message appeared before he had the chance to start typing.

fine FINE I just want to see jaffa. you can die idc

That made him huff out a laugh, but he’d never give Vik the satisfaction of knowing that. Instead, he typed back:

Tomorrow is fine, don’t worry about bringing food. What are you doing now? Can you ring me? I have something to tell you before you visit.

Vik replied almost immediately.

yeah gimme 2 secs, who have you killed lol!

He checked around for Colton, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably still working his way through the little chores and tasks Linden had given him, which meant he was either changing the roll of toilet paper in the bathroom (great for dexterity) or watering the balcony plants (providing plenty of fresh air and sunlight). Either way, he still positioned himself in the corner of the lounge, the furthest from his Pet’s ears.

He answered on the second ring. “Vik?”

“Hey, big man. You alright?”

“Yeah… yeah… I, um, I need to tell you something before you come over.”

“You sound tense, mate. What is it? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine it’s just- I have a Pet. Uh. Yeah.”

Vik didn’t miss a beat. “Are you serious? You, a Pet owner? Please.”

“I know, but there was this, this ad, in the paper, the council were talking about this random stray and they said if no one claimed him they were gonna put him down. They would have murdered him, Vik! And I don’t know. I just thought, fuck, no one else is gonna do anything are they. So I rang them up and they gave him to me for free.”

“Wow,” Vik said, a placeholder while he digested all of that. “So, how is he?”

“He’s alright, yeah. Only recently learned that he could speak. He’s still really really jumpy.”

“He’s scared of you, then,” Vik translated.

“Yeah. I don’t know how much of him you’ll see tomorrow. I’ll tell him it’s alright if he just stays in his room.”

“I can’t picture you as a Pet owner, even though you’re not a proper one.”

“Not a proper one as in I’m a good person with a soul?” Linden quipped. Vik snorted.

“Basically. Ew, it’s weird! He does whatever you say! But you’re just- you’re Linden. You’re my stupid baby brother. He should be telling you what to do.”

Linden smiled. Vik always put him at ease. Difficult topics seemed to flow off him like water off a duck. “Yeah, yeah it is kind of weird, I’m still getting used to it. But you see why I wanted to let you know beforehand.”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” he laughed. “Or else I might have thought he was burgling your house and I’d have asked to join in.”

“Oh, shut up. See you for lunch.”

“See you, Pet man!”

Linden felt the weight lift from his shoulders, but not entirely. Now he had to tell Col.

. . .

He had finished over ten minutes ago. Shiny drops of water still lingered on some of the wider leaves, not quite ready to drop into the moist soil below. But the balcony was too warm and sunny to resist, so Col was still kneeling there when he heard Master’s voice behind him.

He flinched hard at the sound, getting up quickly and ungraciously, tripping over his own feet as if he hadn’t just been caught lazing around.

Through the doorway, a perfect rectangle of light caught Master’s face, cutting down through one eye and turning his left cheek a tawny brown. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and leant forward slightly.

“Don’t worry about getting up, you’re fine, love. No, I don’t know if you heard, but I was just speaking to my brother Vikram over the phone. He’s going to visit tomorrow.”

Master was having a guest. Col nodded, but his mind went white. He suddenly felt like he wasn’t in control anymore. He was underwater, and Master’s voice barely faded through from above the surface.

“You can stay in your room, okay? You don’t have to come down and see him, if you don’t want to. There’s no pressure. I just wanted to let you know beforehand.”

The words flowed past his head, and whatever barriers had been pulled down over his mind kept them from making a dent. “Thank you, sir,” his body replied.

“Okay?” Master half-smiled. “Okay. Good stuff, Col. It’s a nice day- stay out on the balcony more, I know you like it there. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded, but it must have been delayed, because he blinked and Master had left the room, as if he had never been there. Had Col dreamt it?

Turning around, the flowers were wet, so he had completed that task. He knew he had been ordered to stay, so he did, trying to keep the creeping dread from flooding him entirely.

But-

The next day-

It all came crashing down. His eyes snapped open and he was in his room, waiting, and then there was the click of the front door and Master was speaking, speaking with another voice- there was a man in the house-

Master only ever had guests when his Pet had been bad, and he was going to be taught a lesson, and that’s why he was told to wait in his room, that’s why he was prepped, maybe it was a small mercy. But he had been in such a state of denial, barely able to process the news, that he hadn’t done anything to make it hurt less.

All he knew was that he was on the floor in the corner, the furthest one from the bed, and his arms were wrapped around him as if that’d do anything to stop the onslaught. He knew they would just force his limbs apart and restrain them like that until they were done, and it didn’t matter whether he cried and begged. Sometimes they even enjoyed it more when he did. Once he had been lifted up by his throat and told to beg for his life, and it made everyone laugh, because look at it, it wants this, it’s begging for it.

The door handle turned and Col could see Master’s face. His eyes scanned the room briefly before they landed on Col, tucked away in the corner of the room. “Col? What is it?”

. . .

Hey, Col. Vik is here, just so you know, but again, no pressure to come downstairs. He knew what he would say, the tone he’d say it in, so he could hopefully make Col feel secure. But it all fell apart when he laid eyes on the Pet, curled up and trembling on the far side of the room.

“Col?” he said. “What is it?”

“You promised,” Col sobbed, utterly betrayed. Linden’s heart broke. “You promised you wouldn’t- wouldn’t- wouldn’t do that…”

“I won’t,” he said, understanding immediately and wanting more than anything to go over to Col and pull him into a hug. But he couldn’t. He knew that.

“You said you wouldn’t let anyone else,” he whispered, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.

Then- the moment of vulnerability passed. Not that Col looked any less vulnerable. He was still hunched, small and weak, programmed to do whatever it took to make Linden happy. But he caught his tongue, and the mask slipped back on.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You can do- do what you want to me. Of course. I’m not, I don’t mean to question you, Master, I’m sorry, I know my place, I’m good, I promise I’m good.”

“You are, you’re really good.” He put a hand over his heart and kept it there. “I’m not going to come in, Vik isn’t going to come in. Neither of us are going to hurt you. I promised, and I’m sticking to it.”

Col was still sobbing, but it was more uneven breaths than actual tears. He couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to with the way his lungs were pulling the rug from underneath him.

“For now, I think you might feel safer if I just left you alone, so I’ll go back downstairs, okay? And I won’t disturb you again. You just make sure you feel better, that’s all that matters. Don’t worry, Col. You’re safe.”

-

Vikram didn’t say anything as Linden returned, but he did raise his eyebrows. Linden just nodded, keeping quiet until he was sat back down and, hopefully, out of earshot.

“Poor thing,” said Linden. “He thinks, well- he just sees everything as a threat. I don’t know if he’s ever had a positive experience with another person before. At least not in his memory. Did you…”

He trailed off and Vik simply nodded. All humour was gone from his face; he knew when to leave it out, and when it would help. “Yeah, I heard a bit of it. Heard him crying.”

“I don’t want you to take it personally-“ Linden started, but Vik had already swatted at him.

“Oh, stop it. As if I would. But I am- I am happy I’m here, even though I’m sorry it’s scared him. You need someone too, Linden. Like, shit, this is a full time job.”

“You sound weird, being nice to me” he smiled weakly. Vik grinned back at him, in complete earnest.

“Well then, we can talk about something else, if you want. Something I can confidently mock you for. Where’s Jaffa, too?” he twisted around in his chair, searching for her. His floofed-up hair, hairsprayed to excess, bobbed around on the top of his head as he went. “Where’s my little main attraction?”

Soon Vik had Jaffa on his lap where he was brushing her absent-mindedly, listening to Linden talk about the latest book he had read.

“You are a fuckin’ hermit, dude.”

“And?” Linden pulled his best bored-looking face.

“Well… actually, yeah, stay indoors. Forcing you to come drinking with me would be at the rest of the pub’s expense.”

“You’re a bastard,” Linden laughed. “It’s you they should be worrying about, with that boulder of hair on your head. Look at the state of it, it crunches when you touch it.”

“The ladies love it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause they know if they get locked out they can use it to smash a window.”

. . .

Above them, Col listened. He couldn’t make out the words, but both men seemed happy and upbeat, excited about the night ahead of them, excited about the pliant little bitch waiting upstairs.

Before that, though-

Colton had been openly defiant. He had begged for it to stop before it had even started. He hadn’t taken an ounce of pain, nothing had earned him the right to plead for mercy. He had not only been insubordinate, but he had done it while Master had a guest. That kind of embarrassment would not go unpunished. Master would not have his authority undermined by some common stray.

Col desperately needed to apologise. He knew he shouldn’t just wait for his punishment like usual this time. This time he needed to right the balance. He would prove that he knew his place, and show Master’s guest that his rule here was absolute. So with shaking hands, he slowly creaked open the door, and went downstairs.

The laughter died as he came into view, and even the feeling of their eyes settling over his body made his skin prickle. For a split second, his feet locked in place, but as usual his fear pushed them onwards. He kept his head down, his arms behind his back, his shoulders hunched. As soon as he reached Master’s feet, he knelt. Forehead to the floor. Hands to his sides, ready to be stomped on or grabbed. He was a slave. He was always open for his Master’s use. He did not answer back and he did not question.

“Col, are you, are you sure you want to be here?” Master asked from above. He was very sure. But yes, of course, it was no use Col thinking these kinds of affirmations in his head. He had to make them clear.

“I’m here to apologise, sir, for daring to answer back and embarrassing you. Your Pet knows that he is owned completely and it was c-completely wrong to question you. I had no right to ask for mercy, I don’t deserve any. I’m a mindless Pet with no free will and I exist to serve you. P-Please, accept th-this apology. It won’t- won’t happen again.”

He stammered, towards the end. He could only hope Master wouldn’t get angry about it.

. . .

Ironically, it was now that Linden was embarrassed. He glanced over at Vik, and as the two brothers made eye contact, it was as if they had exchanged a whole conversation.

You see, see what I mean? See how he is?

Yeah, dude. It’s fucked up.

I’m sorry.

Don’t be. You’re doing your best to help him. I’m not embarrassed if you’re not.

He gently reached down to Col and rested a palm on top of his head. He jerked in surprise, a weak gasp escaping his lips, but he otherwise stayed perfectly still.

“Okay, love. Thank you. I’m not angry, okay? My brother is here and he always puts me in a good mood.”

He shot another glance at Vik, mouthing this is how I make him understand. Vik nodded. He was looking at Col curiously. Linden wondered if this was how he had pictured him.

“You didn’t embarrass me. You’re fine. I’m not going to hurt you. Vik doesn’t want to hurt you either. Why don’t you go and sit on the balcony, and I’ll sit with you later, and pet your head? You’re not in trouble.”

As he retracted his hand Col’s head tilted upwards, chasing the warmth of the touch. He kept his eyes low, but whispered, “Thank you, sir, thank you, thank you for having mercy. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Okay, you’re okay. Let me help you up.”

It was technically an order, and Col obeyed silently, offering no resistance as Linden slipped a hand over his elbow and pulled him to his feet. He smiled at Col, but his face was blank and resigned. Beyond fear. He had done what he could, and his fate was in Linden’s hands once more. It hurt to know that. Linden could decide to leash Col at any moment, torture him with knives and burning oil and belts, and Col wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Linden steered him to the base of the stairs, and then gently encouraged him upwards, until he had drifted out of sight entirely.

The house was silent. He turned back to Vik, but neither had to say anything. Linden already knew that he understood.

-

first half of the taglist!

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread

@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate

#linden and colton #pet whump #noncon tw

[kuruyuji]

I hope this request is good!

Could I get headcanons (you can include nsfw or not, your choice!) For Danganronpa Makoto Naegi, Nagito Komaeda and/or Miu Iruma with a innocent!reader (they don't understand dirty concepts or jokes of anykind)?

sure thing ! i added a bit more to the request if you don’t mind

- makoto, nagito, and miu with an innocent s/o

gender neutral reader

warnings: swearing, slight nsfw (mentions of sex/loss of viginity), a toy is mentioned like once lol

nsfw under the tag !

makoto naegi

- my god, this boy is flustered

- for real, he feels like an awkward parent handling a five year old

- he thinks to himself  “am i even allowed to say anything?” as you bomb him with question after question. he feels pretty guilty, like he’s tainting your innocence.

- just how bad was your health class?

- although, he kind of thinks it’s cute

- Makoto isn’t a dirty minded person so it doesn’t really affect him. he prefers someone whos personality and humor isn’t dirty jokes

- he’s always there to comfort you when the guys make dirty jokes around you

- “Ha! that’s what she said!” you turn to Makoto, “Makoto, what do they mean?” “D-don’t worry about it.”

- i couldn’t think of another joke oh my god help

- when you ask for the sex talk his face starting burning up. he couldn’t even speak for five minutes. he does his best, trying to keep it as calm yet educational as possible

- when you ask him to show you, he freezes. he would ask you over and over again if you’re 100% sure (we love consent). when you tell him your positive, he agrees

- he handles you with care, almost afraid that he’s going to break you. but he starts to relax when you tell him you’re fine

- makoto loves his innocence s/o, he wouldn’t want it any other way

nagito komaeda 

- he’s pretty intrigued that you don’t have any knowledge of dirty jokes

- he calls you his little hope angel because of your innocence

- Nagito is also not a very dirty person so he doesn’t really care

- is ready to THROW HANDS if Kazuichi or Teruteru crosses the line

- he starts to get on edge when they’re around you. it’s not that he doesn’t trust he beloved classmates, but he knows how Kazuichi and Teruteru can be

- one time Kazuichi and Teruteru were being well...themselves and you just happened to passed by. Kazuichi and Teruteru decided to take advantage of your innocence.

- “hey (y/n), i want my head between your thighs.” “won’t that be...uncomfortable?”

- Nagito then steps in, “Hey, you’re clearing bothering (y/n), please cut it out.”

- due to his bad luck, he has lead himself into some awkward situations

- one time he was walking around trying to find you. he finally spots you hanging with Fuyuhiko and starts heading over; only for him to trip over his feet and crash on top of you

- you didn’t understand why this situation was sexual and Fuyuhiko was going on about how this isn’t appropriate behavior. Nagito softly smiles, shaking his head

- “guess my luck isn’t so bad after all.”

- when you asked for the sex talk, he was caught off guard. he tried to calmly explain to you the basics, but he couldn’t fight back the blush rising onto his cheeks

- when you asked to demonstrate it he almost said yes, but then he didn’t want to take away his little hope angels innocence away just yet

- but you insisted, and he finally gave in. he’s gentle the whole time, praising you over and over again

- you’re still his innocent hope angel, no matter how many nights he dominates you

miu iruma

- OH MY GOD

- PLEASE SAVE YOURSELF

- all of your classmates pray for you. because your innocent ass is dating Miu

- who will say a sex joke in every sentence she says

- it was a nightmare when the two of you first met. 

- “dammit i’m in heat right now. im gonna go fuckin’ crazy!” “in...heat?’

- she thinks you’re kidding at first with the whole innocent act. but when she finds out that you’re actually as innocent as you seem. she couldn’t believe her ears

- “are ya fuckin’ dumb or something?”

- at first your classmates tried to protect you so that Miu didn’t taint your innocence, but you declined. you were very interested in Miu even though you didn’t know what she meant half of the time

- the swearing is...a lot for you to handle. it’s no secret that Miu swears in every sentence she says. she tries to tone it down a bit when the two of you start going out. no promises though

- Miu kind of likes to mess with you since your knowledge of dirty jokes is so low. she’ll constantly flirt with you sexually and it can even disgust your classmates. you just awkwardly tilt your head in confusion as dirty jokes just keep flying out of her mouth

- you get used to it, she gets used to it. usually Kaito or a flustered Shuichi has to translate Mius words for you

- when you asked Miu for the sex talk Kirumi was about to take you and hide you away from her. but you told Kirumi that you only wanted to hear it from Miu since her sex knowledge is so high

- she tells you everything you need to know, how to pleasure someone, kinks, fetishes, g-spots. it overwhelmed you but you sort of got the hang of it

- when you asked Miu to show you, she immediately starts to take off her clothes

- she kept your innocents in mind and tried to be as vanilla as possible

- but then you grabbed the 8 inch strap on and asked Miu if you can use it on her. she beamed with pride

- “HA! i knew it. it’s always the innocent looking ones who are fucking freaky as shit!”

this was kinda fun lol

#danganronpa x reader #makoto x reader #nagito x reader #miu x reader #makoto naegi #nagito komaeda #miu iruma #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #gender neutral reader #spicy #nagito headcanons #makoto headcanons #miu headcanons #fluff #koushis korner

[drabbles-mc]

Whatever It Takes

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Shoutout to @bishopslosawife​ for this idea! I am...passionate about Juan Carlos Ortiz:  What if a up-and-coming MC from another state stops in town for a night to discuss business but when they don't get want they want they take something/someone important to a SONs member as a leverage against the guys? I could see Juice going all overprotective of his s/o. 😍

Warnings: blood, language, murder, kidnapping, angst

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Honestly I would kill a man for Juice and I believe that he would do the same for me haha. Enjoy! xo

Taglist?? I realize that I don’t write a whole lot for SOA and when I do it’s always been Juice lol. That being said! If you’re interested in getting tagged in any future SOA or Juice fics please let me know!

The doors to the chapel flew open and a stream of very angry-looking men came storming out. You sat back at the bar, trying to make yourself as small as possible as most of them left the clubhouse. Once the Sons started filing out, you could see that none of them were looking overly excited about whatever had gone down during church either. Clay, Jax, and Tig were still in the chapel and you caught brief glimpses of their faces as they shut the doors once again, making it so it was just the three of them.

“Hey,” Juice appeared in front of you, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead, “it’s late, what are you still doing here?”

You smiled and shrugged, “Waiting for you. Didn’t think it was going to take so long.”

“Yea, it was a fuckin’ shitshow in there.”

“I figured. Those guys didn’t look happy.”

He chuckled, but you could see the exhaustion on his face, “They weren’t.”

You cupped his face, thumb tracing along his cheekbone for a moment, “Ready to go home?”

He nodded, leaning into your touch, “Absolutely.”

You hopped down off the barstool and pulled him with you towards the door of the clubhouse. He trailed behind you, and you let out a small yelp followed by a laugh when you felt him playfully smack your ass as you walked through the doors.

“Juan Carlos,” you feigned offence as you turned around, placing your hands on his chest, “there’s a time and a place for that.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist, “What’s wrong with here and now?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you leaned in and kissed him. His arms wrapped tighter around you, keeping you pressed flush up against him. Your hands slid up from his chest, fingers trailing lightly and quickly over his mohawk until they came to rest on the back of his neck. You could’ve stood there like that with him forever if it was possible.

He pulled his lips away from yours to catch his breath, but you could see a playful smile starting to spread across his face as he rested his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

You smiled, humming in approval, “I love you too. We gonna make it home tonight or are we crashing in your dorm?”

He laughed, nudging you towards his bike, “We’ll make it home, c’mon we can even take the bike. I’ll bring you back for your car in the morning.”

As the two of you made your way over, you heard someone call out for Juice from the opposite side of the parking lot. You both turned around, and you felt Juice’s body tense up a little bit as he stood directly in front of you, completely blocking you from whoever was talking to him.

“This ain’t over, you know,” the young man walked up to Juice, blowing out a billow of smoke as he spoke, “Better let your Pres know that.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one who should be letting him know,” Juice’s tone was even, but he kept one hand behind him, rested on your hip, “He’s still in church. Go talk to someone who actually has some sway.”

The man laughed, dropping what little was left of his cigarette on the ground between his feet and Juice’s, “Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” he looked over Juice’s shoulder and shot you a smile that was too much to be sincere, “You two have a good night.”

After the man walked off, getting onto his own bike and leaving the compound, you and Juice both let out sighs of relief. His body was still rigid as he turned back to face you, trying to search your expression to see if you were alright. You knew that things got dicey with the club—you’d had to clean Juice up on more than one occasion because of it, but it was different when you were experiencing the tension first-hand.

“You alright?” he gently cupped your face in both of his hands.

You nodded, “Yea. That was just…weird.”

“I know,” he sighed, “I’m sorry, baby, I just feel like I should probably go talk to Clay and them. You okay to drive home and I’ll meet you there in a little bit?”

“Yea, of course,” you kissed him softly on the lips, “I’ll text you when I get home. I love you.”

He smiled, “I love you too.”

He waited until you were off the lot before heading inside to talk to Jax and Clay about the brief little interaction he’d had out in the parking lot. More likely than not it was all talk, but there was never a guarantee of that.

You pulled into the gas station, mentally kicking yourself for putting off getting gas for so long. You wanted to be home but you wouldn’t have made it with what little was left in the tank. You went inside and prepaid, coming back out to the pump. You looked around as you filled your car, and everything seemed quiet.

You turned to put the nozzle back on the pump when you felt an arm wrap around your neck, a gloved hand coming to rest tightly over your mouth. Your entire body froze, and you wouldn’t have been able to try to fight or run if someone tried to pay you. The person pushed you up against your car, speaking to you in a low, harsh whisper.

“When I take my hand away, you’re not gonna scream. You’re going to get into this car and you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to, got it?”

You nodded, eyes wide with fear. When he took his hand away, though, something came over you and you let out a blood-chilling scream. The last thing you remembered was the man cursing and your head being slammed hard against the side of your car. Everything went black after that.

Juice was heading back out to his bike after talking with Jax and Clay. He hadn’t gotten any messages from you, which was a little worrying but it wouldn’t have been the first time you forgot. He dialed your number and called, figuring that if you were home and just forgot you’d pick up and the first words out of your mouth would be, “I forgot again, I’m sorry! I love you,” the way that they always were.

But there was no answer

He tried two more times and it was more of the same. Even if you had fallen asleep right away when you got home, the second or third call would’ve woken you up. He turned to head back inside when he saw Jax walking out of the clubhouse. He flagged him down.

“What’s up, brother?” Jax could see the worry on Juice’s face.

“It’s Y/N. I haven’t heard from her since she left. Tried calling and she didn’t pick up. You mind just riding with me out to her place to make sure she’s all good? It’s probably nothing but it’s not sitting right with me.”

He nodded as he clipped his helmet on, “Yea, sure thing.”

The two of them rode out to your house, and came to an empty driveway and no lights on inside. The knot in Juice’s stomach was growing as he parked his bike and hopped off of it. He yanked off his helmet, running his hand over his head as he turned back to Jax with worry all over his face.

“This isn’t right, Jax. She was coming straight home. Something must’ve happened to her.”

“Alright. Let’s think for a second here before we get too crazy.”

“What if it was that guy?” he saw the confusion on Jax’s face and elaborated, “Adam, or Aaron, or whatever the fuck his name was. The one who came up to us in the parking lot.”

He shook his head, “No way. Those guys are too green to be doing shit like that.”

“You sure about that? Gave you and Clay a run for your money during church tonight.”

The comment stung Jax’s ego a bit, but he had to admit that Juice raised a somewhat valid point. He sighed, “Alright. Call the guys, get ‘em all back to church. Let’s find this asshole and get your girl back.”

Juice immediately started calling everyone. Luckily it hadn’t been very long and everyone was more than willing to turn back around and head back to the clubhouse. Juice looked at your house as he dialed number after number, the darkness in the windows sending shots of fear up and down his spine.

Once everyone was back at the chapel, they started strategizing. They were trying to figure out where the most logical places would be for the men to have taken you, what they were going to ask for to secure your safe return. Throughout the whole thing, Juice’s eyes were glued to his phone, hoping to see your name light up the small screen of his phone.

“We can’t cave to all of their demands, though,” Clay said with a strong sense of finality.

Juice turned to look at the man sitting at the head of the table, “We’ll do whatever we fucking have to, to get her home.”

It wasn’t like him to speak that way to anyone, let alone Clay. The man shook his head, “Juice, I know that this is hitting you close to home but—”

“But nothing!” he stood up, “Not getting her back isn’t an option, Clay,” tears stung at his eyes but his anger was still apparent.

Before the argument could continue any farther, Juice’s phone buzzed on the surface of the table. His eyes went wide as he picked it up, seeing your name on the screen. He held his breath as he brought it up to his ear, “Hello?”

“Go glad you picked up, Juan Carlos,” the man chuckled.

“What the fuck did you do to—”

“She’s fine…for now. But I’m going to need you and the president of your club to agree to some things if you want to make sure she stays that way.”

“Prove it,” he snapped.

“Prove what?”

“Prove that she’s alright. How do I know that you didn’t already do something to her?”

The man chuckled but he complied. Juice heard your pained tone coming through from the other end of the line, “Juan?! Juan what the fuck is going on?”

He felt a sob locked in his throat, “Y/N, baby, we’re coming to get you, alright? You’re gonna be fine I promise.”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything more before you heard the man’s voice on the other end of the line again. “There’s your proof. Your president knows what needs to happen if you’re going to see her again. You have two hours to meet our terms or you’re never going to see your girlfriend ever again.”

“I swear to god if you fucking hurt her—” he didn’t get to finish the sentence before the man hung up on him. He shook his head, slamming his fist against the table, “Fuck!”

He stormed out of the chapel and came flying back in a minute later, laptop tucked under his arm. He sat down heavily in his chair before opening the computer and pulling up numerous windows. The guys looked on in silence, knowing that they had nothing to offer him at this point.

Jax looked over his shoulder, “What’re you doing?”

“Getting a trace on her phone’s GPS.”

“She doesn’t use the burners?”

Juice shook his head, like it was the most obvious answer in the world, “No, she doesn’t have to because she’s not a fucking criminal,” he sighed as his fingers flew across the keyboard, “I’m willing to bet that these guys were too stupid to think about that, though.”

The couple of minutes of silence while the computer programs tracked her phone seemed to stretch on for an eternity. They all looked back and forth among themselves, hoping they were going to get the answers that they wanted. After what felt like hours, they were rewarded with a quick beeping sound.

Juice immediately started rattling off the address to the entire room. He was already walking towards the chapel doors as the rest of them tried to piece together where exactly they were going.

“Abandoned warehouses out off the main drag behind the old logging place,” Juice said as he continued to leave.

They nodded, impressed that he knew it off the top of his head like that. His brain was working overtime, though. Anything to keep you safe. The guys followed him, grabbing their guns as they went. They had no idea what they were walking into but they were going to be prepared.

Juice didn’t bother waiting for the rest of the club. He was fully prepared to go into this entire situation alone despite the fact that he knew he wouldn’t have to. He sped out of the lot, forcing the rest of them to play catchup. His mind was reeling and all he knew was that he couldn’t lose you. you were the one thing that he got right and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. No matter what it took, you were getting home safely.

He rolled into the lot, followed shortly by the rest of the MC. They all got off their bikes, getting their weapons ready. There were a few buildings to choose from, and Juice was looking to see if any of them had any signs of life in them.

“Middle one, top window,” Opie broke the silence, nodding towards the building he was talking about.

Juice looked, and he was a mixture of relieved and anxious when he saw that Opie was right. At least it meant that you were there. He just hoped that they weren’t too late.

“Hey,” Jax’s voice was quiet, but firm, “you shouldn’t be the first one in on this.”

“Fuck that,” he shook his head, refusing to be benched for this.

“You’re angry. Angry makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed. You can’t be lead on this.”

Juice stood toe-to-toe with the VP, “You can’t fucking stop me.”

He wasn’t yelling, but he didn’t need to raise his voice. His tone and the look in his eyes communicated everything. Jax sighed, nodding in defeat. If the roles were reversed, he knew he would be doing the same thing. Juice pushed past him and went towards the building, a few of the guys trailing close behind while a few more waited back in case anyone tried to leave.

They were silent as they entered the building, straining their ears to pick up on any noise. There was a mild clamoring coming from up the stairs. Juice turned to see Jax and Opie behind him, nodding for him to continue onward, that they had his back. With as little noise as possible they made their way up the stairs.

The door at the top was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. They could hear the laughter of the men who had you, but they couldn’t hear you. Juice’s heart was pounding inside his chest. He glanced back, using his fingers to count down before kicking the door completely open and storming in with Jax and Opie right on his heels.

The sight of you bound to a chair and gagged was enough to make Juice see red for a few moments. Tears were streaming down your face and he could see the fear in your eyes, the cut on your forehead caked in dried blood.

They all had guns pointed at each other, but your kidnappers were outnumbered two to three. And judging by the look in Juice’s eyes, he had enough rage in him for a few people.

Still, your captors forged onward like they were going to win this, “We told you this wasn’t over.”

Juice scoffed, cocking his gun, “You don’t let her go, the bullshit you have going on with Clay is going to be the least of your fucking problems. Believe me.” He could see you shaking your head, trying to urge him to stop and not make the situation worse, but he was too angry, “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this shit."

The man pressed his gun against your temple and you cried against the gag in your mouth, shutting your eyes tight. He laughed, “I’d lower that gun now if I were you.”

He shook his head, “You think you’re going to best the three of us?”

“You willing to bet her life on the fact that we won’t?”

The seconds of silence that followed felt never-ending. You still had your eyes shut tight, unable to force yourself to open them and take in the scene in front of you. If it ended badly, you didn’t want the last thing you saw to be something horrid.

The man pushed the gun harder against your temple and you winced as he spoke, “What’s it gonna be, then?”

There was another brief moment of silence but it was short-lived as the sound of gunshots filled the room. You cried, trying to make yourself as small as possible in the chair that you were in. You still couldn’t force yourself to open your eyes, knowing that the warm substance that just splattered across your face was blood and you didn’t want to know who it belonged to.

You felt someone pull at the gag in your mouth, and quickly cutting through the binds around your arms and legs. There was a hand softly put to your cheek, and the only thing that got you to open your eyes was the sound of Juice’s voice saying your name.

He was crouched in front of you, hand resting gently on your cheek as he waited for you to say or do something to indicate whether or not you were hurt. You couldn’t force any words out, so instead you leaned forward into him, head burying in the crook of his neck as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight to him.

He cradled the back of your head in his hand, “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He turned back to Jax and Opie, “Go let the guys know what went down,” he paused, waiting for Jax to meet his eyes, “And tell Clay that he solves this shit tonight or I fucking will.”

You heard the sounds of their footsteps retreating out of the room. Juice pulled back from you so he could get a better look at you. You saw that you had smeared blood all over his neck and shirt. He saw the way your eyes went wide at the sight of it and instantly tilted your chin up so you were forced to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t even worry about that, alright?” his voice was soft, tears in his eyes as he looked at you, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

You shook your head, finally making yourself speak, “No, nothing aside from my head.”

He let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You never should have gotten caught up in this shit.”

“What’s gonna happen with…” your voice trailed off as you looked around the room, the carnage made your stomach turn.

Juice shook his head, “Don’t worry about that. It’ll all be taken care of,” he kissed you softly on the lips, “Let’s get you home and cleaned up. You able to ride?”

You nodded, “Yea, yea I’ll be okay.”

He scooped you up and carried you down the stairs of the warehouse. You clung tightly to him, you gripped his shirt harder than necessary, just needing the sensation of knowing that he was really there holding you. You buried your face against him, tears leaking out of your eyes and onto his neck and shirt. You heard the murmuring of the rest of the club as the two of you walked out of the warehouse, but you didn’t have the mental wherewithal to lift your head to look at or talk to any of them. In reality, you hardly heard what Juice was saying to them as he carried you over to his bike.

He gently placed his helmet onto your head and buckled it for you. He traced his thumb along your cheekbone, eyes filled with tears and love, and you wondered how he could still look at you like that when you had blood splattered across your face.

“I love you,” his voice was hardly a whisper.

“I love you too,” you practically melted into his touch.

He hopped on the bike in front of you and started to pull away. You wrapped your arms around his waist and settled against his back, shutting your eyes as you did. The only things you wanted to concentrate were the sound of his bike, the feeling of his body heat seeping from his back into your chest, and the thought of taking a shower and lying down in bed with him once you both got home. You let out a shaky breath as you squeezed your arms around him tighter for a moment, more thankful than ever that it was something that you were able to do.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice ortiz imagine #juan carlos ortiz #soa #soa imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[boognish-worshipper]

Remember the Rain

praying this is the final part of “Sunrise, Sunset” by the time i’m done omg ,, lamar finally talks it out with frank. i was tryna keep the titles consistent with a sky theme? wasn’t sure what to name this one at first, but i settled on naming it after a i song that i felt was sorta fitting lol ,, also lamar’s dramatic when drunk, that’s jus how it’s gonna be

oh and i included one last convo w/ that psychic lady bc each character got three opportunities to speak to her lol

//

The night Franklin and him fought was the third night in a row Lamar couldn’t sleep right. Then it became four. Then five. Six. He had hoped after the first couple days of Franklin being mad, that it’d all blow over and things would go back to normal. That he wouldn’t ever have to say anything about what he felt deep down. Even though he told himself he had to, he wouldn’t. He waited it out, and still hoped it would all just fucking blow over. That wasn’t what happened of course.

An overcast sky was spread over LS, light rain tapping against Lamar’s window. As cheesy as it was, it reflected how he felt. Another day had passed. Franklin wasn’t picking up, not even reading his texts, nothing. He called a couple times at first when the fourth day of the silent treatment occurred, then tried a few more times to contact him in the following days. It had grown into a long and sad string of texts.

franklin.

dog

plz

pick up

answer me

plz?

c’mon frank i told you i have nothin goin on with yo auntie

i wanna talk things out with you.

u ain’t let me finish explaining

text me when u read this. plz bro

He sighed. This was hopeless. He set his phone aside, still laying awake. A buzz came right after. Fucking finally, something.

fuck you

we got nothin to discuss

He didn’t know how to feel. This was fucking him up and he couldn’t think straight. He tried calling him once more, the ringing as he waited for a pick up mocking him. Voicemail yet again. How many messages had he tried leaving at this point?

for fucks sake frank pick up

u ain’t doin this to me rn

jus let me explain myself

He stared at the ceiling yet again, like it would have all the answers sprawled out for him. As he did, he focused on how the rain had picked up, coming down harder. Then he felt his phone buzz.

no

now stop blowing my phone up

i’m tryna sleep

Lamar was never one to be sensitive, but he felt so crushed right now that all he could do was cry silently to himself. He didn’t even have Chop around anymore to comfort him like he normally would whenever Lamar was going through something. Would he even see him again? He lived over at Frank’s now. Fuck. Did this mean they’d have to share custody now? If he wasn’t so upset, he most likely would’ve laughed at the idea of it. He was letting bad thoughts consume him, turning to a last minute resort of drinking to try stopping it. This kind of thing rarely happened to him, these kind of feelings weren’t common. He knew no other method of trying to stuff bad feelings down, working through a 6 pack of beer on his own, followed by a bottle of some type of random liquor. Anything to stifle the pain in his chest, although it didn’t accomplish much other than making him feel even more queasy. He left one last voicemail, choking back a sob. Or what he had thought would be the last one. He lost count.

“Franklin. Please jus’ talk to me already man. You- you believin’ what you wanna believe right now, you ain’t even givin’ me a chance. You my best fuckin’ friend, don’t that mean shit to you anymore? We.. homies n shit.” He sniffled, cringing to himself when he said the words “best friend”. Franklin was so much more than that to him.

“Ion… Ion think I can live without you in my life. You can’t hate me man that shit.. that’s fucked. This is fucked. I’m fucked.”

A strong feeling of humiliation hung around him for many reasons, one being that he was fully crying now, over the phone. He couldn’t get any lower.

“You jus’ mad right now. But you.. you won’t be, eventually. Right? Please get back to me soon. Please. I’d rather fuckin’.. die or sum’ than have you hatin’ me n shit. At this point I might as well.”

After hanging up, he decided to visit that site one last time. His tears blurred his vision, making it harder to type. The shit in his system didn’t help either.

lady

i fuckef up

thsi is yo faukt

What now? Why are you back?

frankljn hates me

He does? That’s not right.

damn straighy it fuckign isnt

No, I mean that’s not correct.

There’s no way that he could, even if it seems like it right now.

jus fuckin tell me whst to do

That’s out of my hands.

is not u fuckin wirch

*withc

*witch

Look, I really don’t know how else to help you. I don’t have any other visions to offer. You’re on your own.

They do say though, that dreams are visions themselves.

dont fukcin speak in riddles rn

Precognition, Lamar. Just have faith

prewhatnow

n yeah. faith. bc that helps so fuckn much

All I can say to you is good luck - it’s all coming together. Just wait.

th fuck does that mean?

It means that you’re stressing too much - you better sleep it off. Farewell Lamar. You’re gonna have a killer hangover you know…

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

The notification did nothing but make him more upset. He calmed down eventually, the crying and alcohol tiring him out. He blacked out soon after, not remembering when he fell asleep.

For the first time in a while, he dreamt about the two of them. The start of the dream showed a radiant sight before them, the sky lit up in a million shades. Chop was laying beside Franklin, head on his thigh. All three of them sat on a grassy knoll, a soft breeze blowing through each blade. Franklin turned, Lamar not taking his eyes off him since the dream started. He only noticed the sky’s wide color palette because the intensity struck Franklin’s face just right. He looked right into Lamar’s eyes, speaking softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“You had so many opportunities. So many times, I thought that you would. I got my hopes up, you know. I waited. When Tanisha left.. I only had you.”

“Tanisha..”

“I still love her. I.. I think apart of me always will, but I love you just the same. Even if you drive me up a Goddamn wall sometimes. You both mean the world to me.”

Franklin looked back at the view ahead. A heavenly indigo replaced the vivid hues from before.

“But she’s gone now. Shit ain’t the same. All I know is you stayed when she didn’t. Even when she got pulled outta the hood and made some kinda new life for herself, you never left my side. Never changed yo loyalties.”

He turned back to face Lamar again. His eyes were glassy, the glow of the midnight sky reflecting in them.

“So why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?”

“Franklin.. I ain’t deduce that shit ‘til now.“

“You really didn’t know?”

Even in the dream he could feel that previous frustration occur in his mind. Was he hiding in a glass closet or something? He could only let out a wry laugh.

“Yeah man. I was a fuckin’ fool, jus’ like you always said.”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, and Lamar came to the conclusion that he could listen to that laugh forever. Franklin’s face then fell solemn.

“Y’know I really thought that.. I really thought that you jus’ got with someone else. Not even jus’ my Aunt. I saw how you wanted to get away from me, and I thought…” He stopped himself, petting Chop’s head.

“I.. wanted to be happy if you was, but the thought of that at all bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you were all I had, dog. Mike n Trevor, they have their own lives, their own history n shit. I can’t always rely on them. Denise don’t give a fuck what happen to me. You my lifeline dog, I’ve known you for years. I didn’t want you to forget me over a chick or sum’. That day you acted all different n shit, it worried me.”

“Hey man, y’know I ain’t ever gon pull that shit on you. I’m with you for life.”

“Then don’t pull other kinda stupid shit on me.”

“Whatchu mean?”

“You can’t ever die on me bro. That ain’t how this shit works.”

“Ay man, I don’t plan on dying jus’ yet. Not unless yo ass by my side. Not ‘til I tell you I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Franklin got closer to his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes shone as the stars around them fell from the sky, akin to raindrops, hitting them. Everything about him was flooding Lamar’s senses, and it felt surreal, between his aroma and all the other things he loved about Franklin. Golden flecks covered them both, and the stars continued to crash down. The sky was growing darker than before.

“Just say the words Lamar. Say them and this shit’ll be over.”

“How?”

“Well first you need to wake yo ass up.”

“Huh?”

“I said wake up, fool!”

Lamar’s blissful dream had been interrupted by an unknown figure shaking him, literal raindrops hitting his face. He was still bleary eyed, only seeing a vague silhouette in front of him. A wet slap to the face rattled his brain around, the hangover settling in. Shit, was he still drunk? What time was it?

“Lamar! Get up!”

“Oh.. Th’fuck? Who- who that is?” He grunted out.

“It’s me you fuckin’ clown!”

“Frank?”

“Who the fuck else?”

“Why are you-”

He was abruptly yanked out of bed, thudding to the floor with a small “oof”.

“Get up you punk bitch!”

“Franklin what the fuck-”

He was grabbed again, tossed back onto his bed. Franklin straddled him, shaking Lamar by the collar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He said, Lamar getting another slap to the face.

“What in the fresh fuck is you talkin’-” Another slap.

“15 fuckin’ missed phone calls! 15! Are you fuckin’ nuts?!”

Lamar’s eyes practically popped out of his head. 15? What the fuck did he say to him?

“I did what-”

Franklin shook him even harder by his shirt, stretching the material out. He was straining his voice now.

“You had me worried like fuckin’ crazy! I thought you was in some sorta fuckin’ trouble again! You blew my phone up when I told yo ass not to, and then didn’t fuckin’ pick up after I heard the first couple special messages you left me!”

Oh God. This was it. He told Franklin everything, didn’t he? The color drained from his face.

“Oh fuck me..” He mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes.

“What?!” Franklin yelled, shaking him again. Lamar’s head was pounding.

“Franklin.. what.. what I say on there? I barely remember a thing, let alone callin’ yo ass.”

“You seriously don’t fuckin’ remember?!”

“Yeah. Seriously, man.”

Franklin slid off of him, putting a palm to his face. He breathed through his nose hard, trying to calm down. Lamar realized he was drenched from the small downpour outside. Pellets of rain thumped against the window as a reminder that the storm never went away.

“You.. fuck, man. You started sayin’ all this shit about how bad a fuckin’ friend you was. That you, you was hidin’ all this shit and couldn’t live another day without tellin’ me.”

Okay. Good. He didn’t tell him the truth.

“You told me you wanted to die dog. Didn’t realize yo dumbass was safe n sound asleep in yo fuckin’ bed.”

“Oh.”

“…’Oh’? Is that really all you have to say?!”

“F, I was jus’ drunk. It was dumb of me, I know, but I.. It’s nothing, okay?”

“Don’t do this shit to me man! I’ve already dealt with enough of yo fuckin’ schemes n shit-”

“Frank.”

“It’s 3 am! You had Chop barkin’ his Goddamn head off the whole night!”

“Franklin.”

“Then I race my ass over here to find yo drunkass self passed out in bed-”

“Franklin.”

“What! What?! You finally gonna put yo two cents in for once?”

“Stop yelling. My head hurts like a bitch right now.”

“Good! I’m fuckin’ glad because I know mine does as well you fuckin’ asshole!”

Lamar looked pathetically up at him. This was getting out of hand. He let it go on for too long.

“Why did you come here then?” He croaked.

“Because you were fuckin’ sobbin’ into the phone! All I heard was you cryin’ like mad fuckin’ crazy and it scared me. You don’t ever do that shit, not even when you fucked up.”

“How much I say?”

“I got the first message pretty fuckin’ clear, the rest was jus’ incoherent bullshit. I barely got through the second one before speedin’ on over. You sounded hurt n shit, I thought something happened. I thought you was a goner.”

“No weird shit though right? I ain’t say nothin’ bad?”

“What? Lamar, what the fuck are you on about? I just told you what yo ass cried out to me! I couldn’t even understand any of the other messages!”

“Okay, okay. That’s.. good I guess.”

“That’s good? Fuckin’ hell, why did I come here? You- ugh!”

“Franklin. Can you jus’ sit down before you pop a fuckin’ blood vessel? You stressin’ for nothin’.”

If anything, Lamar should be the one stressing right now. He had been so close to confessing without knowing. Franklin sat next to him, arms crossed.

“Franklin.”

“What.”

“I’m sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well good fuckin’ job, you accomplished that real well didn’t you.” He said, sarcastically applauding him.

“I thought you were cutting me off for good homie. You think I was gon’ let that happen?”

“Lamar, that still ain’t a good reason to freak me out like that in the middle of the night.”

“It’s only cuz you hadn’t been listenin’ to me bro. I’ve been wanting to tell you somethin’ so badly lately and I never.. got the chance.”

“Then do pray fuckin’ tell LD, what the fuck is so important that you had to do this shit to me at 3 AM!”

“Franklin man, c’mon-”

“No! Don’t start!”

Franklin stood, heading for the door as he spoke. He stopped in the threshold.

“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on with you, or I’m leavin’ yo sad ass here to wallow. I mean it L.”

“Don’t be like that. Please man. I want to, but I-”

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me! Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Frank-”

“I dragged my ass all the way over here for nothin’ didn’t I? You ain’t dead, you ain’t sayin’ shit, you jus’ bein’ so- ugh! Fuck!” He threw his hands up, exiting Lamar’s bedroom.

“I’m done man, fuck this.”

“Franklin wait- don’t go-” He pleaded.

Franklin did nothing but leave him stranded again, thunder rolling far in the distance. Lamar ran after him as he walked out the door, hearing the rain heavily hit the pavement. His mind was racing far ahead of him. Franklin was leaving, he was leaving for good, and he couldn’t. He can’t. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Franklin can’t do that, he can’t-

His mind had gone so far away, that he didn’t even realize that he had tackled Franklin to the ground. The two of them fell to the ground with a loud splat, followed by sounds of pain.

“Lamar what the fuck?!”

“Don’t go! Fuckin’ hell, I gotta chase yo ass and for what?!”

“Get off me dog!”

“No!” Franklin was pinned beneath him. The raindrops that rolled off of Lamar hit him in the face.

It reminded Lamar of when they were younger, playing football or whatever sport they could outside even as the deluge soaked them both to the bone. The roles had been reversed, with Franklin constantly knocking him down onto the grassy sludge. They got quite an earful from Lamar’s mom as they tracked mud in the house upon returning. It was a memory amongst many that stuck with him like glue. Those memories couldn’t go away. Franklin couldn’t go away.

Tears mixed in with the rain as he yelled out to him.

“You fuckin’ idiot! Why you makin’ this shit so hard for me?! You keep leavin’ before I can even finish!”

Franklin struggled to break free from Lamar’s grip on his wrists, huffing as he looked away.

“Look at me!” Lamar shouted, grabbing his face with a free hand.

“I didn’t wanna fuckin’ tell you like this, but Jesus Christ! For fucks sake you stubborn asshole-”

He was doing it. He bit the fucking bullet.

“You know how we got into that fuckin’ argument last week? When I told you that I was dealin’ with that whole love thing, I wasn’t talkin’ about yo Aunt, a hoe, nobody else! I was talkin’ about you!”

Lamar threw himself off of him, stumbling backwards. Franklin propped himself onto his elbows. He finally said it. He said it, and he was far from finished.

“But you didn’t wanna fuckin’ listen! And now I’ve fucked our friendship over for a second time! All because of you! This whole thing has been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane lately, and I couldn’t do shit about it! I tried so, so hard to avoid this, but nothin’ ever goes my way, huh?! Every time I think a plan of mine’ll work, it doesn’t! You know why?!”

Opening his arms wide, he spoke loud and clear, finishing his rant.

“Lemme remind you: I’m Lamar fuckin’ Davis! The biggest fuckin’ fool, fuckin’ clown, fuckin’ whatever you wanna call me! Lamar Davis, the most naïve bitch on the planet! Fuck me for thinking that this would ever go well!”

Now it was his turn to leave. But he didn’t go back into his house. His legs moved for him, walking in no particular direction. He just needed to get away from Franklin, not caring about how damp his clothes were now. He was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was from the rain or the range of emotions he was flying through.

He could hear a pair of sneakers squishing behind him. Franklin was running, and he was catching up fast.

“Ay Lamar! Get back here!”

Oh fuck. He was chasing after him now. That’s not good. Lamar started running himself, not caring about possibly slipping and falling on his ass. Only a few hours ago, he had told himself he couldn’t be without Franklin. Now all he wanted to do was run away.

“Lamar!”

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wasn’t fast enough. The second time they hit the ground, Lamar had the wind knocked right out of him, the duo splashing right into a puddle. Hands gripped his shoulders, flipping him around.

“Lamar!”

There were only a few instances in his life where Lamar felt small. He’d always been big in character, big in height, and according to him, big in other ways. But this was one of those moments where he couldn’t help but flinch, wanting to collapse in on himself. He was so tired.

“If you gon’ beat my ass or somethin’ jus’ get it over with.” He sighed, shutting his eyes tight.

When he felt nothing but raindrops touch his face, he opened his eyes slowly. His heart sank when he did. Franklin was visibly upset, guilt in his eyes.

“Lamar. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

A wave of déjà vu washed over him. Oh. So that’s what precognition meant. Motherfucking psychic lady.

“You should’ve jus’ told me man.”

“I tried dog. You wouldn’t hear me out.”

“Cuz I.. I thought you got with someone. I didn’t wanna hear it straight from yo mouth if you was.”

He shifted up, Frank sitting in his lap.

“Y’know I always thought that.. Part of me jus’ kinda thought that it’d always be the two of us. I’m never gonna get Tanisha back.. but you..”

Franklin looked away.

“You a crazy ass loyal motherfucker man. You stuck by my side no matter what, and some dumbass part of me was convinced that you… I mean fuck, so many times I thought you would jus’ flat out say something. Somethin’ so I could stop waiting for the one other person I had known forever to just say that they fuckin’ loved me like that.”

Lamar blinked, rainwater getting into his eyes. It wasn’t quite as serene as his dream had been, nor was it verbatim, but Lamar didn’t care. There was something about the way the water droplets sat along Franklin’s face, highlighted by a streetlight behind him that made him look angelic.

“When you started actin’ all weird it jus’.. made me so fuckin’ mad man. I thought you was gon’ pick someone else over me. Jus’ like Tanisha did.”

“Franklin..”

“So why didn’t you jus’ say somethin’ sooner? I waited. Hell, I don’t even know why I did at first.”

“Franklin.”

“But now I’m realizin’ you must not have even noticed yoself what you was feelin’, when I fuckin’ did. I noticed and you didn’t and-”

Lamar grabbed him by the face, grip surprisingly strong after being in the rain.

“How many times do I gotta say yo name for you to hear me?”

The rain kept falling, never slowing for either one of them. Yet, it felt like time stopped. Lamar chuckled lightly.

“Franklin Clinton and Lamar Davis. Two of the dumbest motherfuckers in LS. Homies for life.”

“Yeah. Homies for life.”

His hands never left Franklin’s face. He pressed their foreheads together, lowering his voice.

“I love you, bum ass bitch.”

“Yeah yeah. I love you too.”

He kissed the top of his head, moving his hands down to embrace him in a tight hug. When was the last time they did this? As he thought it over, he could hear Franklin’s voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that again. Next time save us both the trouble n jus’ spill yo heart out. Dramatic motherfucker.”

The words had no malice in them, Lamar feeling him smile as he said it. He kissed him once more, and they just sat in the rain, feeling it bathe them in fond memories.

//plz listen to remember the rain by 21st century it’s so good 💔😭 anyway ya i decided to end it on a sorta happy note !!!!! franklin is a stubborn guy smh,, sorry for any typos lol also i rlly had no idea where i wanted to go with this so sorry if it’s weird or whatever

#grand theft auto 5 #gta v #lamar davis #franklin clinton #franklin/lamar #framar #one sided pining #but with a twist #mutual pining #i told y’all frank was hiding sumn

[ciggylungz]

Music to my ears

Music to my ears- 1.7k

Blurb night: (Request: What abt like something in the studio? Like studio sex 🥵 your header inspired me lol)

 ------

Y/n always loved when Harry brought her to the studio with him, seeing her man all in his grove and in his element made her happy. She couldn’t deny how sexy he looked when he was strumming on the guitar or sitting with a clenched jaw, drumming his fingers while tweaking some lyrics to make it perfect.

Harry was all smiles when he heard the studio door open, his beautiful girlfriend making her way into the room holding some water bottles for him and the band, and some nice food- remembering to skip any item with dairy in it since it can clog up his throat with phlegm which wouldn’t be too good while trying to belt out another billboard hit.

“There she is! Hey darlin’” Harry craned his neck to peck her as she walked by, he was seated in a office chair going over some sheet music Mitch had written that belonged to the instrumental section of one of his works in progress and Y/n gave him a good once over decided he looked especially hot in his black slacks and wrinkled rolling stones shirt. “I brought treats! The BLT for Mitch, Cesar salad hold the crotons for Sara with a side of soup, two blueberry muffins and a black tea for Jeff and a sparkling lemon water with a vegan chicken noodle soup for my Harry- with of course- the breads you requested with it my dear.”

Y/n handed out the goodies to the group of artists, giving Harry his food with a kiss on his cheek perching herself on the table in front of him to snag a few bites of his food every so often as she talked with the group listing to some of the music they’d already got down dancing in her spot a little bit enjoying the behind the scenes of his upcoming album. “Sound’s good, I think you got another hit in the makin’ here baby. ‘m proud of yeh bub!” Y/n ran her fingers through Harry’s hair, the man giving her a content coo and grip on her thigh in return rubbing his thumb on the denim covered skin lovingly.

“Thank ya’, couldn’t do it without these guys or you my love. You guys make me great, would be nothin’ without ya’” his sweetness got a chorus of adored ‘awes’ which the slightly arrogant artist bathed in dramatically waving his hands and pretending to be bashful earning him some chuckles from everyone in the room.

 -------

It was nearing 10 in the evening when Mitch finally decided to call it a night, everyone else besides Harry and Y/n had left over the last few hours. Each trickling out with some yawns and good bidding's as they decided to make their way home but Harry was focused on his music, and Y/n knew once he was this much in a grove, he wasn’t going to pack up till he felt it was time. in the meantime Y/n was sprawled out on one of the couches in the room, her left hand absentmindedly running over the suede pushing the material back and fourth in a satisfying pattern while scrolling through her phone texting a few friends and replying to some emails in between playing random games on the device.

Harry was deep into his work, tongue tucked between his teeth while his knee bounced slightly to the melody playing in his head. He was currently trying to put the finishing touches on medicine , a rather proactive song that he was still on the fence about releasing or keeping a concert special. His inspiration behind it was his journey through sexuality, romance and the fast pace lust that he’s experienced as a star during his formative years. Of course his Y/n was a big inspiration on that track, their sexual endeavors prominent in his mind while coming up with the lyrics.

His mind was filled with photographic memories of the times they did various naughty things. The foursome in brazil where they both explored bisexuality, having Harry, Y/n and then another couple join them, the hand full of times they’d had sex in public. In his car, in an alley, in bathroom at the VMA’s. on the roof, in a pool, and even the once Y/n went down on him in his mothers back garden while she ran to the shop.  He thought of the sloppy kisses, the spitting, cum eating, rim jobs and pussy eating. It was all so dirty and god he knew this song would drive people mad. So being the cheeky bastard he is, he made two final decisions about the piece of work right then and there.

1-      It would be an exclusive concert song

2-      He wanted to have some special audio in it

 Harry knew the idea was daring, likely to turn heads and cause mothers of concert goers to place a hand over their heart with a raised eyebrow but this was his music and he never had an issue with controversial art.

The man then looked to his side, seeing his love in her natural state. Relaxed, lips slightly pursed with her eyelashes batting every few seconds as she focused on the screen. Somehow even when she was lying in a lazy position, hair in a messy bun with a small stain from her tea on the bottom of her shirt, she still looked insanely beautiful.

“Love?” y/n shifted her eyes towards her boyfriend when she heard the pet name, turning onto her side to give him her full attention. “What’s up, H?” she rested her chin on her fist, blowing a few stray hairs out of her eyes. “How would you feel about helpin’ me out with this song?”

Harry gave her a bit of a suggestive taunt of his brows, the girl tilting her head slightly. “Sure, what do yeh have in mind, bub?” Y/n was quick to her feet walking towards him to peer down at the notebook full of lyrics, yet her attention was soon focused on the sensation of being tugged into his lap and the feeling of a rather firm lump pressing into her bum. Her head turned to look at her now smirking boyfriend, pursing her lips slightly in question. “Well, the songs a bit alt to what I usually write…going to keep it off the album make it exclusive but I think I want some background audio of us…making love princess.”

To be clear, Y/n wasn’t a prude. She wasn’t shy about her sexuality, she actually felt very empowered by how confident she was about her sex life and Harry found it exceptionally sexy to be with a woman who was open and not shy at all about trying new things, and this was definitely a new one for her to consider.

He gave her a moment to mull it over, seeing her head sway slightly while she weighed the offer before she gave a shrug and a nod to her boyfriend. “Sure, why not? Gonna be music layered on it right? So it’s not full blown balls smacking into ass?” her question made the man snort, nodding his head. “Yup, gonna layer the instrumental over it. Hoping to isolate the vocals of the moaning to mesh into the music then my singing. I think it could sound fuckin’ excellent and well I get to fuck yeh, so I think it’s a win win hmm?” his hands migrated to her tits, giving them a firm squeeze as his lips pressed into the back of her neck. His touches achieved his goal of sending a shiver through his girl, her spine tingling and hips starting to squirm as he sponged open mouth kisses from the nape of her neck to each shoulder.

“Yea…yea lets do it.” Her words were breathier, his touch putting her under his spell instantly. Lust hung in the air while he kept his grip on her his free hand used to turn on the mic in the sound booth before starting the recording and pushing them both in the padded room.

“god, you’re a doll lettin’ me fuck yeh for my track. I love you so much baby..” his words were as rushed as his frantic hands tugging their clothes off. Hers were prying the buttons of his trousers undone while he ridded her of her bra and started on her pants their mouths crashing together in a sloppy, needy dirty kiss. One that left the lower half of their faces shiny and their teeth slightly clenched from knocking them together in the heat of their movements.

“I love you more, jesus Haz, please hurry up need you in me.” Y/n worked on shoving her panties to the side, Harry hoisting her leg up to have her angled just right to sink his cock into. These were the moments he praised whoever invented birth control, nothing beats getting to spontaneously fuck his girl without having to worry about finding a condom.

Gasps, moans and whines filled the booth. The pleasured noises bouncing off the foam glued to the walls, the insulation amplifying their noises as Harry pounded himself inside Y/n relentlessly, his cock forcibly spreading her inner walls stimulating the deepest parts of her making her pour out a river of beautiful moans he couldn’t wait to mesh into the song. He did little to contain his own groans, deciding if they were prominent in the recording he’d match them with the bass so the deep tones complimented each other.

“ ‘m gonna cum”  

The string of words every guy loves to hear from the woman they are pleasuring, it boosts their ego and gives them an extra shot of stamina to push her over the edge satisfying her fully before he lets himself go.

When the tightening of her cunt gripped onto his cock, sucking him in further happened the best moans of the session were let out. Harmonious perfectly pitched moans spilling from her mouth, his joining hers in a duet soon after as his balls gave everything they had inside of her. the pair were a sticky mess, but it didn’t matter to them they both were still in the orgasmic haze complimented with the rush of voyeurism.

“Jesus baby, I think we just secured a grammy.”

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles request #harry styles

[cupidoargiades]

fuck a keyboard, you're my type.

A/N - its ur thirsty boy jackson yall :) this was SO easy to write like im not even gonna lie, i love this guy so much like CHRIST not to be nsfw or anything but can he please just h*ld my h*nd ???

-

staring at you from the bar, a rather hot guy smiles at you once the two of you lock eyes, gesturing you to come closer. you look around and point at your chest, as if saying 'who, me?'; he nods yes. looking around once again, you try searching for your friends in the busy crowd to check if they knew the guy, but to no avail; everyone was either having other conversations, playing games, or they were just nowhere to be found.

stepping closer to the guy, he holds up a finger to the bartender, ordering another shot of soju. looking at the empty glasses that were already on the bar, he seems to have already drank a few shots. "hey gorgeous" he says, pushing a stool towards you to sit on. "how come you're all alone on this beautiful night?" he asks.

"oh, just the regular," you chuckle, as the bartender placed your shot in front of you. you nodded kindly at him before turning back to the kind stranger. "you know the drill; got dragged here after a break up to find some distraction, friends left me alone, all that bullshit."

he smiles a little and looks around. "they're not looking out for you, either..? because you're exactly the kind of girl those gross and nasty guys like me would hit on. that's so irresponsible, guys like that are just so- ew.." he says playfully, making you laugh a little as you down the shot of soju with ease. "you're one smooth motherfucker, you know that?" you say, ordering another drink.

"oh- just saying, you ordered more alcohol, so if you get wasted, end up fucking me and regret it in the morning, it's not my business" he says. once again, he makes you laugh so effortlessly like the times before, even though you have only known him for a few minutes.

"shit- i'm sorry, i forgot to introduce myself. i'm jackson. jackson wang" he says, urging to hold out his hand but pulling it back once he mumbles that's too formal. "great to meet you, jackson," you smile, holding up your hand, palm to the ceiling. "give me your phone and i'll tell you my name" you demand.

not even doubting your intensions, he smiles contently and hands you his phone. "you knew what i was gonna do, huh?" you say when you see a new contact on the screen, ready to be filled in. "i'm the master of flirting, stranger." he scoffs as you type in your name and number. taking back his phone, he stares at the letters on his screen.

"y/n, hm? that's a pretty name. it suits you" he says, looking at you, then his phone, and once again back to you. "you think so? why's that?" you ask. "like i said, it's a pretty name, just like you"

a blush paints your cheeks a cute red that compliments your makeup and outfit. he seems to notice this, as he tells you how dope your accessories are. "i love your earrings" he says, pushing your hair to the side to admire the studs lining along your earlobe. "i love your necklace" you nervously respond, pushing the hand that was next to your face and about to touch your ear aside so you could look at the golden chinese symbol hanging from his neck.

"it says 'wang'.. stands for my last name and it translates to 'king'. it's perfect, since i'm a king." he says, boosting his own ego a bit. "what are you a king of exactly?" you ask, staring at the pendant for a few more seconds.

"you. which makes you my servant, and you should do as i say." he jokes, making you scoff. "the king's got some tension right here, hm? can you fix that?"

you sigh and push his hands off of yours. "one more sex-related remark and i will actually start considering not going home with you." you say confidently, making him roll his eyes. "as if i'm not gonna talk you into coming with me anyway." he answers.

the two of you keep on talking for the rest of the evening effortlessly, and as tough and manly as he seems, he's funny, soft and really kind. it's no surprise you ended up in the back of his car at midnight, lips crashed together.

"one second-" you pant, taking your phone to see that one your friends is calling. "it's okay, baby, you're with me now.." jackson groans, pushing your phone down and leaning in to continue the sweet kisses. "no- i really have to get this, they're probably worried sick.." you say. admiring the kindness in your voice, he pulls back with a smile. you pick up after swooping your hair to the side, hearing your friend go off worriedly about how they searched the entire place and didn't find you anywhere.

"yeah- yeah, i left already. sorry i didn't text you," you say, watching jackson twirl a strand of your hair into a shiny wave. "no, it's fine, i've got a ride back home, right?" you ask, looking at jackson. he nods, before taking your phone out of your hand. "hey y/n's friend, y/n's future-husband here.. i just want to say that i'll give her a ride back, on one condition." he says.

you raise an eyebrow, telling him to stop whatever he's doing as you hear your friend cursing at him for being a 'filthy playboy-kidnapper-hybrid'. "sweetheart, it's nothing like that," he sighs, massaging his temples slightly. "she's gonna stay the night at my house. i'll bring her back home safe and sound tomorrow, i promise." he says, before hanging up. you shake your head with a roll of the eyes and a scoff. "you could've just said 'hey, this is y/n's hookup and she's staying over for sex.' but you just had to be a mysterious little bitch about it, huh?" you say, hanging your arms around his neck as you lean in for a kiss.

"you know it, baby" he says, pushing your phone back into your purse before getting back to business in the backseat of his spaceous car. "let's just make sure you forget about your ex tonight, and make you fall in love with me, if that's cool with you" he suggests, pushing the strap of your top down your shoulder.

-

coming down from a second high that night, you collapse on the bed, chest raising and falling from heavy breathing. jackson rolls over to kiss your forehead and lets his fingertips glide over the dark rose petals of red and blue he made over your neck, chest and stomach.

the slightest touch of his seems to burn marks into your damp and sensitive skin; just ghosting over you would make you shiver. "you know, you're not like other guys.." you mumble, turning your head to look at him. his hair's now messy, and a splotchy blush covers his face.

"is that a compliment?" he chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth and running his fingers over yours before intertwining perfectly. "most definitely.." you say, making him nod confidently. "usually, guys that hit on me just want a quick fuck before ditching me. you're different.., i like that" you say softly, feeling so at home next to him.

"fuck yeah," he smiles. "i'm in it for the long run.. no more hook ups, just love making and real love."

soft buzzing fills the comfortable silence, and you pick up your phone to see it was exploding with messages in you and your friends' group chat.

- friend #1, 1:22

LMAOOO i bet she's getting laid

- friend #2, 1:22

No wtf

She's too prude

- friend #3, 1:22

girl ... r u even her friend ??? shes everything but prude lol

- friend #2, 1:23

I did see her talking with a guy at the bar when I went to the bathroom

Maybe that was the guy on the phone?

- y/f/n #1, 1:23

leave her alone shes getting dick tonight

- you, 1:23

LOOOOL y'all are too much

- friend #3, 1:24

omg y/n how was he

- you, 1:24

SO FUCKIN GOOD

... like- personality wise

lmao no nsfw in this christian household

- friend #2, 1:24

Thank you :)

When are you coming home?

- you, 1:24

didn't you hear jackson ??

he's driving me home tomorrow

... after a date

omg i gtg right now he asked if i wanted to shower

i'll update y'all later

- you, 2:07

dont worry girls, i took good care of her

xx jackson wang (y/n's bf)

#jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #got7 jackson #got7 #got7 x reader #jackson x reader #got7 jackson x reader #got7 imagine #jackson imagine #got7 imagines #jackson imagines #got7 reactions #got7 reaction #jackson scenario #jackson scenarios #got7 scenario #got7 smut #got7 fluff #got7 angst #jackson fluff #jackson smut #jackson angst #jackson wang smut #jackson wang fluff #jackson wang angst #wang jackson #wang jackson x reader #왕잭슨 #잭슨 #잭슨왕

[foxtophat]

/pant wheeze etc

sorry about that guys, i was going to post last night but like i keep saying, i got caught up in editing and soooo here we are!!  today’s chapter is all about kim, and kim’s teaching a masterclass in being a mom friend in your late 30′s.

as much as i strugged with this chapter i really REALLY like writing kim. she never got enough play in the games, so i guess i take liberties, but there’s something pleasing about writing an exasperated millenial mom going “please, dude, just get some therapy” to a guy like john seed lol.

i guess we’re all probably feeling kind of...uh, not awesome/active these days. which is fine! i’ve touched my face so many times writing this that i’m gonna have to go take a shower when i’m done here.  i hope you all are being safe, and i hope you work for companies that will allow you to be safe!  if your job is giving you shit about the virus, know that they’re the ones in the wrong, not you for wanting to watch out for your health.  oh, and tonight is the democratic debate, so go watch that and see if you vibe with my boy bernie, ok?  ok, be safe, i love you, wear a scarf if its cold outside

(below is the chapter text, so you don’t have to leave tumblr if you don’t want to! if you read it on here, could you like and/or reblog for me? i would appreciate it!)

Kim vividly remembers the day she met John Seed, just a few short years before the end of the world. He and his family had been in town all of a month when they had shown up unannounced to a potluck Kim and Nick were hosting, bringing along a last-minute macaroni dish. The three brothers were polite enough, and the big one seemed embarrassed by their offering compared to the other plates at the table, so Kim had let the party-crashing slide. Hell, she'd even let the strange brunette woman that accompanied them walk around her house like a second-rate psychic looking for ghosts. The rumor mill hadn't had time to chew much on them, so all Kim knew about the Seeds was that they were trying to put together a commune and the middle brother was some kind of preacher. It all sounded very tent-revivalist to her, but mostly harmless. Sure, they were weird, but they were hardly the only weirdos living in the county, so who was Kim to judge?

She had been standing alone by the cooler with a beer when John had sidled up to her. His reputation had already gotten a head start, having already stepped on Mary May's toes before showing his face to the town at large, and he was clearly attempting to avoid people who had already heard Mary May's take on the situation. Whether or not he realized Kim had already heard all about his unapologetic come-ons, he sure seemed interested in showing her his good side. He had been all smiles and charm, shaking her hand with both of his own and complimenting everything about the house and party and people. But, even as he coasted through the pleasantries and small-talk, John had eyed Kim like she was a piece of meat, one up for grabs by whoever flagged down the butcher first.

Just when he seemed ready to open his mouth and order himself a bad time, Nick had swooped in beside Kim with his hand extended, wearing his least genuine grin. Committing to another two-handed shake, John made more sweeping compliments and asked Nick a couple of questions about the airstrip. He may have even been genuinely interested in what Nick had to say on the matter, but in retrospect, all Kim can remember is the way he had looked at her. No longer was Kim a lifeless, prime cut of beef — now, she had teeth in the form of her redneck aviator husband, who wasn't buying anything John was selling.

Nick had smiled and waved at John as he excused himself, disappearing in the direction of his brothers. "What a fuckin' creep," Nick had declared through his clenched teeth.

Kim had thought then that they knew what kind of creep John was. By the time he began sending men to the house to intimidate them, she'd realized he was something much worse. He was something out of a schlocky psychological thriller, a sociopath with a rumored body count, who calculated each of his steps with pointed disregard for human life, gleefully buying up land for their cult and chasing all but the bravest away from their homes. There had been rumors about people disappearing, but Kim hadn't wanted to believe them. There had been a whole lot Kim hadn't wanted to believe. It was when John started calling, leaving desperate messages begging them to "just say yes, so I don't have to make you," that Kim had to stop hiding her head in the sand.

Kim barely had time to celebrate when he died the first time, what with Carmina being born and the world ending, and she had much better things to do in the years following than spare a thought towards him. It wasn't until Nick dragged John into their home eight years later that his name had even crossed Kim's mind.

She thinks about John a lot now, for better or worse. At first, all of her instincts had her thinking about him sleeping nearby. How much force it would take to break the bedroom locks. How strong and fast he might secretly still be. She would watch him work and think about all the awful things he would be putting Nick and her through, if their positions were reversed. She would question his every move, tired and sluggish as they might have been.

Nowadays, she mostly thinks about how tired he really seems. She thinks a lot about his eight years of solitude, and questions just how dedicated he really is to waving a white flag. The John Seed she used to know, the one she had underestimated a lifetime ago, he would never have willingly submitted himself to manual labor the way he does now. He would never sit silent and anxious until Nick or Kim bossed him around. At first, she had thought he was doing it out of necessity, being as sick as he was, but now... well, now, she's not so sure.

John is stronger than he has any right to be. Kim never had the opportunity to confront him physically before, so she has no idea if John has always been like this, or if it's something that happened in isolation. After all, eight years by yourself is a great time to workout — at least until your supplies run out, or you catch a sickness that won't go away. It should probably worry her more, but Nick's confidence has rubbed off on Kim, and all she concerns herself with is giving him jobs that measure up to his abilities.

Like today, for example. Nick and Carmina have started on a project together, putting together a hen coop worthy of housing Carmina's first pets, and with planting season practically here, Kim is ready to tackle her own construction project. Somehow, a tractor wound up on the runway, overturned and mangled as if it had been in a car accident — or a nuclear blast — and Kim has a plan for the thing's large, mostly-intact tires. With enough mulch and soil, Kim's sure that she can make them into reliable planters, and she might even manage to grow something worth eating this year. First, though, they have to come off the tractor — and that's where John comes in.

Kim watches John peel one tire off of the crescent-shaped wheel it's clinging to, thinking to herself again that John is stronger than he should be. He rolls the massive tire back down the runway towards her, looking mildly winded from the exertion, face red from the sun. He doesn't look anything like the walking corpse Nick had found a few months back.

Despite herself, Kim is impressed with his progress. When Nick had first brought him in, she hadn't expected him to make it through the night, much less the following day. It had been hospice care to her, at least for the first week — but then John had turned a corner, eating again and managing to stand on his own feet, and all at once Kim had forgotten about reading his last rites.

Slowing the tire to a stop, John wipes his arm across his brow and asks, "Here?"

"Yeah," Kim says. "That's fine. One more to go."

John nods, turning and retreating down the runway towards the tractor's mangled remains. Kim watches him go, waiting for him to realize how easy it would be to get away. She's a great shot with the rifle, but she's only got the pistol with her today, and Nick is all the way on the other side of the hangar. There's no fence on this side of the strip, and the overgrowth is thick enough to disappear into. It would take him a matter of seconds to escape, if he would just try.

But he doesn't. Kim has no idea why not — it's not like they're making much of an effort to keep him locked up. Nick does his best, but they're not a maximum-security prison. Hell, they don't even have an enclosed fence! With all of his experience managing a human trafficking cult, he has to see that they're woefully unprepared to hold him. There's no way he hasn't itemized every hole in their security and how he could use them to his advantage.

The tire has been partially popped off of the tractor wheel, but John's probably going to need a wrench or something to pry the rest of it free. Otherwise, Kim is going to be watching him strain uselessly, and while sometimes it can be gratifying to watch John struggle with menial tasks, Kim wants these planters done as soon as possible.

She marches toward him to size the problem up, only to pull up short as John tears the tire off of the wheel. Metal scrapes against itself as the axle twists, and Kim hears a pop when John finally leverages the tire free, leaving the wheel to hang limply from the axle. There's a long rip in the tire's lip, probably from where a security bolt tore through the old rubber.

"Jesus," she says, not realizing she's close enough for John to hear her until he frowns in her direction. She tries to mask for her concern over his uncanny strength, but all she has going for her these days is motherly frustration. "You could have hurt yourself," she scolds, as if that's going to cover it.

John huffs. "Why does that matter?" he asks.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we don't exactly have a doctor to take you to if you slice your arm on rusted machinery and contract tetanus."

Considering how passive John's been, it comes as something of a surprise when he heaves a frustrated sigh, bracing the tire with both hands and doing his best to ignore Kim while she stands right next to him. It's just irritating enough that she sticks her foot out to block the tire, eyeballing him defiantly and mentally daring him to keep being a baby. Ugh, as if a man like him could be intimidated by a 40-year-old mom's unimpressed glare.

He ducks his eyes. "Alright, fine," he surrenders.

Kim lets him roll on, following with a furrowed brow as she tries to figure out what his deal is. The John she remembers would never put up with the kind of disrespect Kim shows him. He would be... seething, or something. Planning to murder her, probably. But if he was going to murder them, he would have done it already. He definitely would have done it when Nick let him sleep in their room. But every opening he has, he ignores in favor of the full surrender he'd willingly placed himself under.

Once John sets the tire down, wiping his forehead clear of sweat, he asks, "What's next on your list of petty tortures?"

If John thinks being petulant will get him anywhere with Kim, he is sorely mistaken. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow and asks, "Do you really think this is me trying to torture you?" She can't help but be a little offended — as if she couldn't come up with something worse than household chores if she wanted.

"I don't know what to think," John sighs.

Kim can count the number of times John has been honest with her on one hand, and that's including before the bombs dropped. A few minutes ago, she might've entertained his mild back-talking to dig at his motivations, but she's certainly not in the mood now.

"You don't need to think," she says. "Just do what I tell you."

It's as easily said as done with John, who shuts up with a deep frown and follows Kim mutely for the next hour or two, helping her shovel a mixture of composted leaves and topsoil into a wheelbarrow. They have to make three trips to get enough to fill the tires, which is sweaty, smelly work that Kim won't leave to John alone. Even if she didn't want to get her hands dirty, she would feel guilty if she made him do it by himself, considering it's a job she could easily do alone.

Once they've finished dumping the dirt into the makeshift planters, Kim turns to John with a critical eye. At last, she offers him more than a few curt orders.

"This isn't supposed to be torture, you know," she tells him. "Everything we tell you to do, it's because it needs to be done, not because we want to watch you suffer."

"It must help," John grunts.

"Honestly? Not really." Kim sits on one tire, watching John shift his weight between his feet. He somehow seems small, even as he stands over her. "I've seen enough suffering to last a lifetime. Haven't you?"

John doesn't respond. He turns his head to stare at the hangar — probably wishing he was putting the coop together with Nick, who loves it when John is quietly repentant, and who hates talking about this kind of stuff in general. If Carmina weren't over there, John would definitely be trying to excuse himself to her husband's side.

"I think we're done here for now," Kim says at last. "I'm going to start dinner. You can sit quietly with me, or go help Carmina and Nick with the coop."

She refuses to pick for him, leaving him to look between the hangar and the fire-pit and debate on his own whether he wants to deal with Kim's weak interrogation skills or being in the same room as Carmina for any length of time. Any time she gives him a choice, he usually goes for whatever will keep him busier, but he seems actively repulsed by the idea of spending any time around Carmina.

After a few seconds of consideration, John nods reluctantly. "I'll sit," he says, almost as though he's admitting defeat. When Kim leads him over to the fire, he sits on the same patch of dirt he usually does, even with plenty of seating options. He doesn't talk much, and since Kim has nothing to ask him, she leaves him to his own thoughts while she starts getting dinner ready.

When she catches him starting to doze, she can't help but sarcastically quip, "Some torture, huh?"

John shoots her a dark look in return, but it's going to take more than a mean scowl to bother her.

Nick and Carmina get up early one morning to go fishing. Kim sleepily sees them out of the bedroom, unwilling to face the gray morning chill herself, and wishes them as much luck as she can muster while half-asleep. Nick hesitates a whole lot by the bedroom door, still reluctant to leave Kim alone with John, but he knows better than to make a bigger deal about it than she does. Kim appreciates his concern, even if nowadays she doesn't think it's warranted.

They'll be back a little after noon, and Kim's list of chores has finally shrunk to something manageable, so she lazes for just a little bit before finally committing to the day. It takes her a little longer to commit to utilizing John outside, since she doesn't have any work for him and it would be great to have a morning to herself, but leaving him to stew all day feels wrong.

John's already awake when she goes to get him, dressed and sitting on the pallet-board bed that Nick let him piece together. He only looks mildly surprised to see Kim fetching him by herself, which means he probably heard Nick leave earlier. He isn't very talkative today, resorting to monosyllabic responses to her questions as they eat breakfast downstairs. He sits quietly at the table with Kim, not touching his food until he catches Kim staring expectantly at him. Kim shouldn't be surprised — after eight years on his own, he's probably more comfortable in silence. Either that, or he talked himself out of words down in that bunker of his. She would ask, but John avoids talking about his time underground at all costs, and she doesn't see today being any different.

Kim waits until they've gotten out into the yard to reveal her cigar box full of seed packets. "It's a little early to start planting," she explains, "But I have a good feeling about this batch of spinach."

John waits expectantly, his frown deepening as Kim fails to elaborate on his part in all of this. "You want my help," he realizes at last. "...With gardening ."

He says it with so much disbelief that Kim almost thinks he's making fun of her. "What did you think we were going to do after we filled these things with soil?" she asks. "They needed to sit, and now we need to plant. You're here, so you're helping me."

"I —" John stares at her, biting the inside of his cheek as though he's trying to mind himself. "That isn't going to work. You'd be better off letting me dismantle the tractor for scrap."

"I'm not asking you to do that," Kim points out, "I'm asking you to poke some holes in the dirt. This isn't rocket science. Even Carmina can do it."

"Then have Carmina do it ," John snaps, immediately clenching his jaw to try and prevent another outburst.

"If you're trying to give me trouble just because Nick isn't around, then I'll just put you back in your room."

John sulks for a few seconds, weighing his words now that he's out on thin ice. "Plants and I aren't compatible," he grudgingly admits. "I have a black thumb. And this is important work, I don't — I don't understand why you would risk it."

Kim tries hard to resist pulling on her kid gloves, and yet she still can't help but go easy on him. "John, it's an irradiated wasteland. You are the least of these plants' concerns. All you have to do is follow instructions. You can do that, right?"

She expects him to roll his eyes or get huffy at her coddling him, even just a little, but he only nods in return. "Yes," he says, falling back into what can't possibly be comfortable subservience.

Well, it works for Kim — he doesn't try to fight her as she shows him how to space out the holes, how deep to make them and how many seeds to put in each one. She watches him finish a row before she decides he's got it, and settles in across from him to start on the opposite side of the planter. John looks surprised that she's working with him, but she finds digging in the dirt relaxing, and she's got to pass the time somehow.

Kim enjoys gardening, getting her hands dirty while ensuring she and her family have plenty of food. She'd never really gotten the chance to practice before the bombs, but that didn't stop her from growing some sad looking carrots and potatoes last year. They plant spinach and beets, as well as some carrots that Kim doubts will survive. The other planter stays empty, but Kim has a plan to grow some soybeans later in the season, and if the seeds don't take, maybe corn will.

John is wholly focused on his side of the planter, meticulously careful, like this is some kind of exact science that he barely understands. A city boy through and through, Kim supposes — it isn't like a hotshot lawyer from Atlanta would spend much time at the local community garden, right? His history with gardening is probably littered with dead ferns and succulents that couldn't survive his negligence.

When he sits back to rest a minute, four straight rows like spokes in front of him, Kim throws him a bone. "Looking pretty good."

"Don't patronize me."

Kim rolls her eyes. Of course John would be incapable of taking even the most mundane compliment, no matter how genuinely Kim might give it. "I'm not. You're doing a good job."

John sighs heavily, still very much not believing her, but he doesn't argue the point.

Nick and Carmina return just after John finishes his final row. Usually, Carmina comes back looking pretty defeated, as fishing isn't something she's gotten the hang of yet, and Nick will try not to let on that he did poorly on purpose to make her feel better. Today, though, Carmina marches with a straight back and a big grin, and Nick follows her with a bucket of smallmouth bass.

"Who wants fish?" Nick calls triumphantly, visibly excited for Carmina to finally have a "big catch" story.

Kim stands, knocking the dirt off of her knees, and takes a look at the radial design left behind in the soil. She's going to have to water and keep a close eye on these little suckers, but with any luck, they'll grow at least enough to make for good compost. It would be nice to have some impressive produce to trade, though, so here's hoping that spinach turns out.

"Hard part's over," Kim tells John, who reluctantly follows her lead and climbs to his feet. "Now, it's a waiting game."

"I wouldn't expect miracles," John mutters. Kim pretends not to hear him.

John avoids the garden as much as he can once the planting is done. Kim doesn't need his help, so she doesn't press it, but she notices whenever he surreptitiously checks the progress the seeds are making. He seems happy enough to be done handling them, but Kim bets he's still keeping an eye out for any evidence of failure. Kim doesn't want to take away Nick's extra pair of hands, especially considering how hard work seems to comfort John more than long stretches of silence surrounded by dirt, so for the first two weeks, Kim handles most of the gardening herself.

Nick and him have been steadily chipping away at Nick's list of home repairs, their DIY solutions changing the topography of the family home bit by bit. The roof is dotted with white shingles cobbled together from old siding, the windows have been boarded up with full sheets of plywood instead of haphazard wooden planks, and part of the hangar's exposed roof has been covered by a quilt of stitched together pieces of tarp. They've even managed to clear back some of the vines that have been swallowing every structure in the valley. Nick has pretty much given up on letting John do everything by himself by now, although he definitely delegates the harder work to John and takes the first drink of water whenever they take a break. Nick has always been a hands-on kind of guy, though — sitting by while there's work to be done goes against his nature. It had only been a matter of time before he demanded to pull his own weight.

Kim checks the plants more frequently and obviously than John does. She had been expecting most of the plants to fail, considering the packets they came from are easily eight years old and thrown into an old box with no thought to preserving them, but a week in and they seem to have taken pretty well. Tiny, two-leaf sprouts have started to poke their way through the soil where the spinach was planted. The beets don't seem to have done quite as well, but surviving tiny sprouts have also started to show. Kim doesn't trust the carrots, but it'll be another week or so before they start seeing any results from them, so she withholds judgment for now.

"Been thinking about going into town," Nick mentions one night as the four of them eat dinner at the table. John still seems uneasy sitting with them instead of on the stairs or in his room, but at least he doesn't need someone to goad him into eating.

Carmina's face lights up. "Can I come?" she asks, practically before Nick has finished speaking. From the way Nick smiles at her, Kim's sure he was about to suggest that very thing, which makes it easy for Kim to agree.

"Sure," she says. "As long as your dad promises not to cut across the field this time. No," she scolds Nick as he opens his mouth to argue, "There's a herd of bison out there that are as big as the car, and you are not a matador, Nick."

"What's the point of an apocalypse if I gotta follow all the roads?" Nick complains, relenting with a theatrical sigh. "You're right," he admits, emphasizing for Carmina, "Your mom's right. The roads are a lot safer than any open field."

Kim glances at John, who has his head down over his plate, looking uncomfortable with the conversation circling so close to him. Nick follows her line of sight, frowns, and then asks, "So, uh, John... You got any interest in going into town?"

John swallows the bite he just took, wincing as it goes down wrong. "No," he croaks.

"Okay," Nick says, not at all upset to hear it. "That leaves just you and me, sweetheart."

Later on, once they're getting ready for bed, Nick can't help but circle back, horrified by his own gall. "What would I have done if he'd said yes?" he asks Kim. "He'd incite a riot just by showing his face. The second everybody knows he's alive..."

"It's going to happen eventually," Kim says. "I think we should at least let him make the choice about when ."

Nick accepts her reasoning with a petulant, "I guess, " but he spends another hour or two silently turning it over in his head.

They don't leave until after breakfast, which Nick lets John be part of. He's still sensitive about sharing his family time with anybody, much less John, but he's getting used to it bit by bit. Kim would blame it on the apocalypse if it weren't for the fact that he's always been very protective of his mornings.

John looks uneasy as Nick and Carmina head out, tensing at the sound of the car starting. Kim isn't all that used to it either, but at least they managed to find a car and enough gas to make the occasional trip to town possible.

Well, since there's nobody else around, and nothing left for Kim to do, she decides it time to bring John back to the garden.

"Ready to learn how to weed?" she asks.

To his credit, John waits until they're outside and facing down the lightly weeding planter to argue. "There's still a lot of work to do in the hangar," he says. "Doesn't that sound like a better use for me?"

"No," she replies. "You need to know how to do this." She sighs when he remains standing, staring up at him unimpressed. "Either you help me with this, or you can go pout in your room about it."

Kim waits until John reluctantly sits on his knees to join him. She walks him through the process of prying up the thin, quickly growing stems, tossing them into the bucket between them, and shows him how to pull out the root systems that might get left behind. Most of the weeds that are growing are small, but those pernicious vines have been reportedly growing like crazy in any and all soil and Kim doesn't want to give them a chance to cozy up to her produce.

It's not complicated work, so John picks it up fast, but he goes tediously slow, almost to the point where Kim thinks he's messing with her. Well, the joke's on him — Kim has raised one of the most independent children in the state, and she knows how to deal with petulance. She's fine with long stretches of silence, she's fine with dirt, and she's fine with leaving people to stew.

"Have you always been a gardener?" John asks after a length time, rushing the words as if he'd been chewing them over for too long and he just wants them out of his mouth.

John rarely ever asks questions that aren't about his so-called punishment, so Kim is inclined to indulge him. "No, not really," she answers. "My mom grew flowers, and I would try to keep those little starter herb kits alive every so often, but I never really dedicated my time to it." She hesitates, hopefully not noticeably, and adds, "We had some old gardening magazines in a box in the bunker. They turned out to be a good way to pass the time. You know?"

John hums neutrally in response. Kim hadn't expected much better; even casual talk about life underground shuts John up pretty fast. It's such an obvious psychological scar that even Nick can't miss it, and although the two of them will speculate, neither of them have so far pushed hard enough to find out more. Kim doesn't know if John's trauma is the Pandora's box she wants to open, but she has so many questions and so many worries that could be put to rest if she could just figure out how to interrogate him about it.

She's being too obvious, staring at him like she is, and John is quick to catch her. His brow furrows as he stares back expectantly. Probably waiting for her to drag the information she wants out of him, no doubt, the same way he would rip confessions out of people.

When she fails to do whatever it is he's waiting for, he turns his attention back to the remaining weeds. Frustration colors his voice when he eventually speaks.

"I wish you wouldn't stare at me."

"I usually look at people who ask me questions," Kim replies, trying not to be pedantic and failing pretty miserably.

"Just tell me what you want from me."

Kim sits back on her heels, wiping her forehead with a dirty hand. "I don't really know," she admits. She probably shouldn't be so honest with him, so open about her lack of motivation, but she can't see any reason to lie. Maybe telling him the truth will encourage him to do the same? She knows that's wishful thinking, but it's worth a try.

"I guess I want you to... prove you're trying. That this isn't all some kind of act. But honestly, I don't know what kind of proof would convince me. There's eight years of blank history that might help, but you don't want to talk about it."

She doesn't hesitate to bring up the bunker this time, even when it makes him squirm. She can see him working on a response and heads it off as best she can.

"Look," she says, "You don't have to tell me now. You don't even have to tell me . But eventually, if you're really serious about making amends, you're going to have to tell someone ."

For a moment, John rests his fingers in the dirt as if he might just go back to his work. He's staring at the green leaves, waiting for one of the plants to give him the right answer, the one that will make the conversation end before he has to get involved.

Finally, terribly lost and frustrated at himself for winding up that way, he asks, "Why won't you just make me ?"

His uncertainty settles in Kim's stomach like a lead weight. He refuses to look at her, and somehow that makes it worse. She knows Nick would probably scold her for being overly sympathetic, but she can't help it. She can't hide her worry when she answers, no matter how much it might chafe John to hear it.

"You have to want to get better to do it," she tells him. "Nobody can do it for you."

John doesn't respond. Kim doesn't hold her breath over it, returning to the remaining weeds. But as his silence grows, Kim finds herself checking on him in her periphery. Before the Collapse, John had been easy to read, his reactions unrestrained and sometimes bordering theatrical. These days, Kim can't pin him down.

John treats the fresh sprouts as though they're too fragile to touch, sincerely confused at the progress the garden has made despite his interference. Had he really thought that he could mess them up just by planting them? No wonder he was so sure that she was making a mistake, enlisting his help.

"Things are going well, given the circumstances," she says at last. "I guess you don't have a black thumb after all."

"I stand corrected," he replies. He looks at her briefly, but when he catches her watching him he's quick to look back to the dirt. Kim doesn't miss the way he continues to appreciate the small green stalks.

Later, after the weeds have been eradicated and dinner has been started, Kim hears the car coming down the drive. John is in the middle of dragging scrap metal out of the hangar, so he doesn't notice it right away, but there's no missing Carmina and Nick's raised voices. They aren't quiet by any means as they wander from the front yard to the back, talking enthusiastically about the monstrous bison they'd seen in the field on their way home. When John recognizes them coming into view, he stops working briefly, raising his arm to shield his eyes from the hastily setting sun.

"That's, uh, a pretty wide leash you're giving him," Nick says to Kim, having the good sense to at least kiss his wife hello before he starts in on judging her.

"He knows what you guys are doing in there better than I do," she replies. "How was town?"

Carmina is the one to answer, her excitement hard to contain. "We saw the bison!" she exclaims. "Pastor Jerome let me go to the top of the church tower! We got a bunch of stuff!"

She has a whole lot more to tell Kim, which she does in rapid-fire bullet-points before running off to unload supplies from the car. From all of her talk of apples, Kim hopes that some of them made their way home.

Nick waits until she's out of sight, checking to see that John hasn't yet come to join them, and then offers Kim a helpless shrug. "So, Jerome knows about John, I guess."

The comment shouldn't make Kim as uneasy as it does. "Oh?"

"Grace told him." Nick takes off his hat, tossing it onto the porch and running a hand through his hair. "He said he had to think about it more. But, uh... that he trusts us to do what's right. I dunno, he didn't quote any scripture at me so I couldn't tell how mad he really was."

He's watching John at the front of the hangar like he's surprised John isn't running. "I really thought this was gonna go differently," he says after a beat. "I thought for sure he'd have given us a reason to off him by now."

Kim chuckles. "Yeah, the same way you thought feeding the raccoons would make them go away."

"I couldn't help it," Nick sighs. "They looked so damn hungry."

John finishes unloading the wheelbarrow's contents. For a moment, he stands with his back to them, staring at the hangar. When he turns around, he straightens up, waiting. For what, Kim couldn't possibly say. She wishes he would just tell them what he thinks they ought to do already, but that's not going to happen any time soon.

Nick cups a hand to his mouth and shouts, "C'mon, I got a bunch of supplies you need to unload!"

John puts his hands on his hips, taking a brief rest before starting in their direction. Kim wouldn't believe he's the same man from a few months ago if she hadn't seen the transformation herself. She hopes all this change has been for the better, but she wonders if it's going to be enough.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

[pepperpixel]

thoughts and feelings about. my life below the cut. like depression and shit?? u aint gotta read this shit if u dont wanna lol

warning i basically wrote this post like a fuckin diary cuz i wanted to write my thoughts out. so its super jumbled and messy. pls don’t feel like you have to respond, this is just for me to talk lol. vent some stuff. clear the air of my brain.

these past months since graduating high school I basically haven’t taken a moment to think about anything ever. i wake up in the morning i have like. mini waffles and coffee. i watch a couple videos and then draw draw draw for the entirety of the day. i might eat something else. or i might not, i might drink something else, or i might not. and then i lay down and watch more videos until 3-5 am. i then go to sleep. or i don’t. and then i wake up. repeat repeat repeat. every single day. with a few exceptions. of course i’ve gone out a couple times and had fun. but then i go back home. and do the same thing i’ve been doing. for the past months. on autopilot... over and over and over again. i watch the same videos over and over and over again. i draw and then hate everything i make over and over and over again... and i don’t even have the space to be upset about it... because im always doing something to not think about the stuff that bugs me. its just like im a robot on a cycle.and im not even doing the things i need to do. im doing pointless things. im doing the same pointless things over and over, and i have this constant dread in my heart that everything’s gonna come crashing down on me and i just keep ignoring it. and not doing anything about it. until im laying in bed every night and it hits me. but i still keep not doing anything. and my life continues to be nothing. day in and day out.

anyway... i cried today for the first time in a while, and im actually happy about it.... i used to cry all the time. about everything. and i hated it then. but. i like, haven’t given myself the space or time to feel emotions... or feel human.. in what feels like a rlly long time. and i don’t know exactly how but for some reason today i just started thinking. about all the stuff thats changed in my life that i’ve been avoiding thinking about all these months. and i thought about how it made me upset.. i allowed myself to be upset. instead of just brushing it off cuz im “supposed to be stronger now” because i’ve been to therapy and i don’t have panic attacks anymore and thats all that rlly matters right?? all that other stuff that makes me unhappy can just be brushed aside because its manageable. everyone has to deal with bad stuff. why should i be especially upset about it, just move on, just don’t think about it. sure you’re literally eating and drinking barely anything every day and u get an average of 4-2 hours of sleep each night and u barely feel like you’re still alive but that doesn’t mean anything! this is just what life is post graduation! youre fine!!

so. crying kind of. reminded me how it felt to. feel stuff?? like,, it made me feel normal again. like a real person. which im happy about.. i feel like it knocked some sense into me or something.

i used to write down how i felt a lot too. to work thru my feelings and get them out of my head. i haven’t written down or talked with anyone about my feelings in awhile cuz i haven’t thought about my feelings in awhile... but im writing stuff down now cuz it feels like the right thing to do, its what i wanna do. and i still can’t 100% sort thru all of my feelings. there’s still that vague stale miasma.. the dread of the unknown of adulthood. the worry of being a failure, but. im so happy to have taken the time to just feel some of the feelings that i can sort thru. nothing new bad happened. i didn’t have a panic attack. i just cried a bit and got upset over some stuff i’ve been ignoring.. it feels a little like a break through.. and it made me want to feel more.. honestly.. its better then this awful nothing repetition. i’m gonna try to work on being more human from here on out. thats a weird way to put it but i don’t know how else to phrase it? just, taking more time to breathe. to just be alive in the moment. in real life. not on a computer. ((also, i kno thats a thing dumb old ppl say but like.. being obsessively glued to my computer to avoid real life is part of the issue. im not even doing anything of substance im just.. doing jack shit nothing)) i don’t need to do everything right now. sometimes i just need to sit in my own brain and sort stuff out... and then i can really focus more on the stuff i actually need to do. maybe then i can start really feeling in control of my own life. idk.

anyway... tldr i felt emotions,,, it was a mixed bag.. hopeful for future??

#pepper words #this is a real lets explore peppers inner psyche and shit sort of post #nothing new bad happened.. im just sorting thru some of the old #if u feel like reading about my shit then go wild #if u don't thats chill #i just had to write it down for myself

[mxliv-oftheendless]

“Can we make cake? I like cake.” Heather & Mick? Lol. Bonding with lil' Ayesha between them with cake? 🍰🍰🍰

So this started out light and happy, then got a little angsty. But I like what I came up with, so I hope you like it too! This is set in a modern AU again, because that’s the idea I had. Put under a cut because this turned from a drabble into a full-length oneshot—in other words, another day in the life of me lol. Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn’t too bad an atmosphere; Heather sat on one end of her couch reading a book, while Ayesha sat on the other side, leaning against the armrest and watching an episode of DuckTales, occasionally giggling at what was happening. Heather had to crack a smile whenever she heard it. She’d agreed to watch Ayesha while Demon and Vinneketh had a much-needed Date Night. 

Had she said yes rather quickly when Vinneketh called and asked? Maybe…

Okay, yes, she had. The past couple weeks hadn’t been good mental health-wise, and she knew from experience that the last thing she needed to do was be alone. So even if it was just babysitting her little niece while her dads no doubt screwed each others’ brains out, at least she wasn’t by herself. She needed distractions. 

But it seemed the universe was not on her side tonight, because she gazed uncomprehendingly at the page of her book, eyes going over the words for the third time in a row. She sighed quietly. Was it too much to ask to not feel bored and useless for once? 

“Auntie Heather,” Ayesha suddenly turned from the TV to her. 

Grateful for the distraction, Heather looked up from her book. “Yeah, sweetie?” 

Ayesha kicked her feet. “I’m bored… Can we make something?” 

“You mean like bake something?” Ayesha smiled and nodded her head. After a moment, Heather smiled slightly and set aside her book to stand. “Okay, sure. Let’s go see what I’ve got.” 

Ayesha jumped off the couch and eagerly ran to the kitchen, while Heather walked behind her with a smile. As bad as she’d been feeling lately, she couldn’t not smile around her niece. 

When she entered the kitchen, Ayesha was looking in her cabinets for something to make. Heather tried to remember whether she had anything; she used to have brownie mix, but she was pretty sure she’d used it…

“Find anything?” she asked. 

At that moment, Ayesha opened another cabinet and grinned excitedly, then reached inside. She pulled out a small box and proudly showed it to Heather. It was a box of strawberry cake mix. 

“Can we make cake?” Ayesha asked. “I like cake!” 

Heather smiled. “Sure. Let me see that.” She took the box from her niece and looked on the back to see what they would need. She had canola oil, her measuring cups were clean… did she have eggs? 

She went to her fridge and opened it to look inside. No eggs. Frowning, she turned to Ayesha apologetically. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I don’t have any eggs.” 

Ayesha deflated. “Aww…” 

Heather suddenly didn’t want to go back to reading her book. “Maybe we can ask Mick if he has any eggs,” she offered. 

Thankfully, Ayesha perked up at that. “Can we?” she asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, we can. Let’s go.” 

They left her kitchen and went out of her apartment into the hallway, Ayesha happily skipping along beside her. Heather was pretty sure she knew why; Ayesha was perhaps the one person besides Vince, Nikki, and Tommy that actually liked Mick. And besides Heather herself, of course. 

Mick, actually, had been the person whose door Heather had been knocking on the most lately. A part of her felt bad she wasn’t going to Starchild, because she knew Starchild would drop everything if he knew she was having a horrible day. But then again, it was also for that reason that she didn’t go to him; he had his own things to deal with, and she didn’t want to turn her best friend into her therapist, and also because, although she loved him platonically, he just didn’t get it. But Mick got it; he knew what it was like to be in constant pain, whether that be physical or mental. And he was always ready with a drink if Heather needed one. 

The two of them went across the hall to Mick’s apartment and knocked. There was a short pause, then Mick opened the door slightly and peered out. He opened the door all the way when he saw it was Heather. “What’s the problem?” 

Heather was about to respond when Ayesha did it for her. “Hi, Uncle Mick!” she chirped. 

Mick looked down, and smiled slightly when he saw Ayesha. “Hey there, kiddo. How’s it goin?” 

“Aiutu and Baba are spending time together,” 

“I’m watching her for the night,” Heather clarified. 

“Oh. So, what’s up?” 

“Do you have any eggs? Preferably three?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“We’re making cake, Uncle Mick!” Ayesha happily explained. “But we don’t have any eggs.” 

Mick nodded solemnly. “I see. Hang on a second.” He turned and disappeared into his apartment, and Heather heard the sound of him rifling through his kitchen. He came back a few moments later with three eggs in a plastic bag and gave it to Heather. “Here ya go.” 

Heather smiled. “Thanks. We’ll bring you a piece when we’re done if you want.” 

“Sure. Been a while since I had cake.” 

They were at her door when Mick called behind them. “Hey,” 

Heather turned to find him leaning against his doorframe. “You, ah… need any help?” he asked, a bit awkwardly. 

Heather raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. But she looked down at Ayesha all the same. “What do you think, sweetie? Should we let him help?” 

Ayesha nodded excitedly. “Yeah!” She ran over to Mick and grabbed his hand to pull him back over to Heather. “Come on, Uncle Mick!” 

And that was how Heather ended up in her kitchen with her little niece and her grumpy guitarist neighbor, keeping watch so they didn’t try to dip fingers into the cake batter. 

“Ayesha, no,” she tried to scold, but Ayesha was already licking the batter on her finger. “Don’t do that.” 

“But it’s good, Auntie Heather!” Ayesha protested. 

“You’ll get sick, and your dads will—hey!” 

While she was distracted, Mick had swooped in and dipped his own finger in the cake batter. Heather gave him a disapproving look. “You too?” 

Mick shrugged. “Hey, it’s good,” 

“Told you!” 

Heather sighed. “Fine. I was going to be the responsible adult here, but you know what?” She dipped a finger of her own in the cake batter and tasted it. It was good; really good. 

Mick smirked at Ayesha triumphantly. “We got her, kiddo,” 

Heather rolled her eyes as Ayesha giggled. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll go put this in the oven. You two go wait in the living room.” 

She had closed the oven, set the timer, and was about to join the two in the living room when she suddenly heard Ayesha’s voice. “Uncle Mick?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is Auntie Heather okay?” 

Heather froze. There was a moment where Mick didn’t speak, then she heard him reply. “Sure she is. But you don’t have to worry about her.” 

“But she looks sad, Uncle Mick,” 

“Like I said, kiddo, you don’t have to worry about her. She’ll be okay.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” 

“… Okay,” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The trio played UNO while they waited for the cake to bake, then sat around Heather’s table eating pieces. Heather smiled, laughed, ate her cake, and tried to forget about what she had heard. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t. 

Your own niece can see something’s wrong with you, and she’s a child. How pathetic is that? 

Mick left after a while, and a couple hours later Ayesha fell asleep on Heather’s couch, her sugar crash helping her get tired enough to sleep. Demon and Vinneketh came to pick up their daughter around midnight, leaving with a few pieces of cake, and Heather was once again left alone. And once again, she found herself walking across the hall and knocking on Mick’s door. Mick, thankfully still awake, wordlessly let her inside. 

“I heard what Ayesha said earlier,” she said once she’d sat down on his couch. “Could she really tell? Is it that obvious?” 

Mick sat down in his armchair across from her and put his feet up on the coffee table, crossing his arms. “She could tell something was up. But that’s it. She wouldn’t know you’ve got depression, she’s just a kid.” 

“I know, but…” Heather sighed. “The fact that she could still tell something was wrong… What does that mean? Is that bad?” 

“It’s not bad,” Mick replied bluntly. “All it means is that Ayesha’s a perceptive kid. But her brain’s not gonna automatically know what’s going on. And she’s probably not even going to think about it anymore.” 

Heather thought about what he said. He was right. She sighed heavily again and ran a hand through her hair. “I guess you’re right… why am I even worrying about this? I just… I don’t want to… give her what I have somehow…” 

Mick shrugged. “Seems pretty fuckin normal to me, what you’re thinking. And I think if she did know the truth, she wouldn’t give two shits. She loves you.” 

Heather cracked a smile at that. “She does… She likes you too.” 

“Exactly. And fuck if I know how, but hey.” 

Heather scoffed at him. “You’re not so bad. You’re a grumpy old ass, but you can be pretty nice when you’re not sassing people.” 

“Pretty sure sassing people is the reason we’re friends, McMann,” 

Smiling, Heather looked up at him. “And I wouldn’t trade that for anything, Massacre. I’m glad we’re friends.” 

Mick smirked back at her, but it looked more like a genuine smile. “Same here… Nice to have a friend that actually drinks quality booze.” 

Heather laughed, then stood back up. “I think I’ll go have another piece of that cake.” 

“You should be sleeping,” 

“Says the nocturnal animal.” 

“Touche,” 

Mick walked her to the door, then watched as she walked back across the hall to her apartment. She smiled at him. “Thanks for the talk. You know I’m here if you ever need to talk, right?” 

“Yeah, I got that. Night.” 

“Goodnight,” 

And with that, Heather closed her door and went to go get another piece of cake. It actually tasted better this time around. 

#kissteriaverse modern au #black dahlia series #so obviously StarDahlia is my favorite broship #but Heather and Mick are great bros too #I feel like mick would be more able to understand heather's mental state #or at the very least knows sometimes it's better to just be there as a friend instead of asking what's wrong #also featuring ayesha #Ayesha's a little cutie and I love her ok #also cake #cake makes everything better #hope you enjoyed! #Shandi's KISSteriaverse #my writing #ashestoashesvvi

[gwisingegooli]

yikes lol... i can’t believe that just happened...

i accidentally let it slip i was going on a tinder date to brian and he got belligerently drunk... when he ain’t sober he cray.... he told me to take all my shit and leave and he doesnt want to see me anymore and to just leave

he’s fucking yelling, stomping the ground and hitting his chest and shit and yelling

i’m just tryna dip but he keeps saying like NO all your shit

and it’s just like... thats hella unreasonable but i can’t really reason w this guy... i’m not worked up at all, just realizing theres no way i’m gonna get through to this guy

eventually the cops knocks on the door, and they question us separately... the cop questioning me checked if i was ever physically assualted but it wasn’t like that... the cops inside eventually talked brian down to letting me have one day to move all my shit...

one cop came out and was serious as fuck telling me that i had to move out. i was like oof, okay. i get you.

i just felt fucking bad, i knew he was yelling and shit but i didn’t know how to get the fuck outta there

the cops gave me a ride to amy’s place and i’m gonna crash here for the night. i have some stupid required club shit i need to do from 8:45 but afterwards i’m gonna go to the women’s center and they’re gonna help me find a place to stay...

sigh...

first of all i’m mad chillin, dont worry bout me, i be outta this mess. shouldn’t have played w fire. needed to realize i was playing fucking carelessly with some crazy fucking fire... i thought we knew what was going on but i was definitely being naive and irresponsible, cause id be really friendly and cutesy w him, which i obviously shouldn’t have been doing. even if i was being clear about him never having a chance. when he fucked up he gets so emo and enraged about this unresolvable shit but it’s just breaking his fucking heart.

i definitely brought this upon myself by not thinking and even trying to be in each other’s lives lol and me being me and him being him

just nope

anyways i’ll be safe and take care, i know yall worried about me, but dont worry too much cause i’m actually chillin

the cop questioning me recommended therapy and then was like its for students and i was like lol yah u right also i’m paying for it anyways

sigh....

the cops were so nice and handled everything really well, though. they made me feel comfortable, and i even managed to perk up a few times cause they were so nice and funny

i just can’t believe this happened, i’m in this situation. i know now i just needa fucking close this gd chapter... and honestly now brians outta my fucking life even though he’ll probably want me back later

things are totally cut clean. i don’t even care about him anymore cause we toxic to each other, jeez. fuck him, me first, i dont need to care about him. and i’m glad i gave him a reason to kick me out of his life, right? haha yikes

i’m in a good place in life and with who i am rn. this shit isnt phasing me. its just like smh i can’t believe this shit HAPPENED to me lol. like i’m homeless bc my ex flipped his shit on me and the cops had to come....... jeeeeeeez.......

yeah i know pretty smh but its all good i livin life and ownin shit and havin fun still

also my tinder date went fuckin awesommeee and i really met and connected w someone today so it was lit.

its just a wild end to a day that was p fucking great LMAO

pls leave ur thoughts and concerns below. always tryna be honest w yall, yall are truly a support system even if sometimes its like i know i know LOL i love all of yall and i always feel the love and i’m thankful for it. we a family.

thanks for followin my adventures and carin about me. i’m always just tryna do my best but still gettin into shenanigans and makin mistakes. ill just always grow and think about what i’d do better next time, and do it. peace. ✌🏻

[a-rdentlyy]

*finger guns* fuck vld s8 B)

I was incapable to do my final projects until I wrote down all my feelings. VLD is trash, but I’m sadly obsessed with it, dear god just end my suffering. Just to be clear, I also have some (very few) good things to say about this season but those will be at the end.

Cons

lol the whole fucking season

Pretty much everything concerning Lance was about Allura, nothing about his own personal growth except when talking to Keith

Sunset talk was romantic as FUCK and Keith spoke about how great Lance was and was just so fucking soft the whole time

Sitting at the table and confiding in each other about personal growth had me tearing up tbh

Literally episode one was extremely gay

Like, super gay

Lance and Allura have an awkward date, which was honestly pretty cute, EXCEPT for when Lance suddenly tells her he loves her and she’s just like “i mean ok i guess” and they kiss????????????

What the hell??????????

And why the fuck did Lance choose to seek solace in Keith when he was worried about his “date”??????? (hint: its gay fellas)

And then when Veronica asked about Keith and if he was single Lance literally freaked the fuck out for like 67493862988409 years

HUGE queerbait season and episode if you ask me :/

How the FUCK is Ezor still alive, I’m not complaining, but this was out of nowhere

The astral plane episode w the old paladins could have been so cool

Blaytz should have been with Lance, literally his whole speech about people underestimating him and “fucking having greatness within” is LITERALLY what Allura said to him in either season 5 or 6 (can’t remember and don’t really care about their interactions tbh)??????? Like??????? Give my boy some validation that isn’t centered around his romantic life?????

Alfor should have been with Allura. That’s her fucking dad and his whole “my daughter chose you cuz ur cool i guess” speech to Lance felt so flat and awkward, I hated it. Everything about Alfor’s speech would have been so much better if it wasn’t about how Allura liked him.

AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN CHOOSE LANCE, SHE CHOSE LOTOR AND SETTLED FOR LANCE BECAUSE HE WAS HER CONSTANT COMPANION

They did Lotor dirty, my trash son

Not a single bit of actual redemption

In the Honerva flashback episode could see how his parents tore him down. Zarkon destroying his first colony broke him.

Totally unresolved Lotura plotline. I really liked them together and they had genuine chemistry unlike the “main” bullshit ship of the season. Allura first tries to kill him in her nightmare and then immediately trusts him after he says like 2 words????????? Girl ain’t over her ex.

So was he actually evil and was really sucking out quinessence or was that plotline just never touched upon, cuz he tried to explain what was happening in s6 but was never really allowed to speak?????

The Altean colony was never really resolved???????

Like, who’s running it now??????

Altean/Farmer Lance

Don’t even talk to me about this shit

What the FUCK is with him suddenly becoming Altean????? Like, if he had, you know, some Altean descendents and his little markings were suddenly activated then i’d kind of get it

Also Lance has Altean markings now, because we just can’t let Lance move on from Allura and be happy can we

This ending was SUCH BULLSHIT. Lance has always wanted to be a pilot but now that some girl he liked is dead he wants to live on a farm w his family?????

I’m still not done with how they won’t just let Lance move on from Allura and be happy

He lives on Altea, of all places, so he’ll see her people everywhere

He has fucking Altean markings so he’ll be reminded of her every time he looks at himself in the mirror

Honerva seemed like such a good, complex villain but they just made her goal so fucking dumb

I figured she’d want to get Lotor back (which I dug because I’m always here for mother’s love n shit) plotlines, but suddenly she’s trying to get to an alternate universe?????? The fuck?????

And what the hell happened when she actually went to the AU, what the actual fuck

What a bitch, she’s still pissed at Allura even in this alternate reality

Lol AU baby Lotor telling Honerva how she sucks is incredible

Klance

Fucking gypped

So much build up

Where the hell is the “slow burn” endgame for Lance?????? Definitely not with Allura, that shit was rushed as hell

Literally so much chemistry between Keith and Lance

Allurance

I don’t actually hate Allurance

The writers just suck at doing their job and making good romantic relationships

Literally cringed at every scene where Allura and Lance interacted tho, it just felt so forced

When Lance said “my girlfriend” I actually had to stop watching and had to take a solid half hour to recover (I’m not even joking), it was the worst thing I had ever heard

HELLA rushed “i love you” to Allura. Lance, she’s the fucking best, I agree, but dude. You honestly don’t even really know each other that well (the demi in me is coming out lol)

Allura never once responded to Lance saying I love you until the very end, and even then it felt more like a platonic “I love who you are” deal. She definitely didn’t love Lance like he cared for her.

She even ended up dying and walked towards Lotor at the end, she still chose Lotor over Lance at the very end

And we just can’t let Lance have anything nice, can we

Lotura

“He was happy with you” fuckin Honerva speaking the truth for once

Literally one of the best ships that crashed and burned for no reason

Through this entire season you can still see Allura isn’t over Lotor

Allura, they did you so dirty as well

My wife

I’m so sorry for what they did to you

This amazing survivor of genocide that thought that she was the last survivor was killed off

They also ruined ur character tho, the real Allura would never have basically tortured the real Zarkon without quintessence poisoning

And you would have realized you don’t actually love Lance like that

Those goodbyes actually destroyed me at the end tho

“I’m gonna miss you Allura” BITCH ME TOO, THE FUCK

Shiro’s goodbye made me tear up the most

So she can create infinite realities because of her sacrifice except for one where she lives???????

And who’s leading the new Altea????? No one???? They never explain what happens with the actual colony that Lotor made and the current timeline

Holy shit I just realized we never actually found out if Lotor survived the quintessence field or not

I mean, almost certainly didn’t

But still, that shit’s important to tell us

Looked like a hawk carrying away a baby mouse

Shiro’s wedding was fucking bullshit

Like finally he can be happy

But god, give us fucking SOME development that isn’t damage control

At least I liked whoever he married in those background scenes despite never learning his name

MATT’S HAIRCUT IS A TRAVESTY at the end

He looks way better with long hair

What the fuck was with the lions just dipping??????????

Tbh that shit made me cry

And now they’re just chilling out in space??????

Pros

The beginning of the season was actually surprisingly really good? Like, I was nearly invested the whole time up until episode 8?????? And then it got fucking insane and weird with no explanation.

THE ANIMATION IS GORGEOUS

Baby Lotor was so fucking cute, I adore him.

Those small Klance scenes killed me

Keith supporting and validating everything Lance has done and just being a great bf in general

That romantic ass sunset scene (you CANNOT tell me that shit was platonic)

We could have had it all yo :(

Surprisingly really liked Kinkade’s vlog episode, it made me like the MFE pilots

I didn’t care about them at ALL in s7 but now I like them more

Just Kinkade and Rizavi tho

Some tasty VeronicaxAcxa shit

That’s lesbian activity

Thank god Bex was right when she said Kacxa wasn’t gonna be a thing

Old Paladin’s were pretty cool except for the bullshit talking

BAD. ASS. VOLTRON/ATLAS FUSION.

Thank GOD Galra Emperor Keith wasn’t a thing

Coran keeping Allura’s memory alive keeps me alive

HIS TOAST TO HER HAD ME CRYING

THEY REALLY WERE FAMILY

Thank god it doesn’t seem like Lance is insanely depressed a year after Allura’s death, this kid needs closure and to move on and find some semblance of happiness that doesn’t revolve around romance

Small Klance moments at the end

That fucking reunion at the end made me cry

At least we got a mlm kiss, even though it’s garbage :)

List of Those Done Dirty

ALLURA

Lance

Lotor

Shiro

Adam

The Whole Fucking Fandom

All in all, fuck v slur, 3/10 for the season and 4.5/10 for the whole show. Seasons 1-3 are the only canon seasons. Except for parts of Season 5 and 6. Those can stay.

Also Klance is Canon King.

#voltron legendary defender #voltron spoilers #vld spoilers #voltron season 8 #vld season 8 #vld season 8 spoilers #shut up tess

[foofygoldfish]

deputy alice riley

Soooooooooo this is gonna be long, but it’s pretty much anything you could ever want to know about alice lol

her full name is Claire Alice Riley, though she pretty much only goes by Alice. Staci calls her Allie, and she haaates it.

She was born in Falls End on October 30th, 1992.

Her face claim is Anya Taylor-Joy, just shorter (5′) and with pink hair. She naturally has dark brown hair, though when her hair isn’t pink, she dyes it blonde.

Her childhood in Fall’s End was fairly average - her sister was annoying (Jane was the designated babysitter, and hated it), so was her brother (he loved frogs and spiders, she… didn’t; though she got him back by her loving snakes and him being terrified of them, which is still true), her parents were happily married. The car crash happened after a Girl Scout’s meeting (the troop disbanded not long after, but not because of the crash) that her dad picked her up from. She came out with a broken arm and a concussion, but that was it. She doesn’t really remember much from the few hours before or after the crash. A few years after, the Sheriff had Jane (who had custody at this point) send her and Caleb to California, where her aunt and uncle were her legal guardians. Her uncle is a chef for big events, so he had weird hours, but they were able to live comfortably and (to Alice’s amazement, Caleb’s disdain) to have passes to Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm. Her aunt works in the industry and travels a lot, but both of them tried to be home more for the first few weeks after the twins moved in. The twins were both involved with theatre, but Caleb is the one with the real acting talent - Alice thought about being a voice actor, but it’s more of a hobby for her than anything. 

Her family owns the Fall’s End Garage - she’s not the best at the mechanical side of running the shop, but she’s pretty good at running the business side of things. She wanted to ban peggies from the shop, but Jane wouldn’t let her.

Lives in the house behind the garage in Fall’s End - it was her parents, her sister kept it after she moved in with her then-boyfriend - she didn’t want to stay, but nobody was really looking to buy houses at that point, so she boarded it up for the twins. Jane joined after the house was “given” to Alice, so the house was fine. 

She misses LA like crazy, especially once winter hits. She loves having rainy days again, but ten years of no winter? Her dream.

Her brother, Caleb, thinks the testy festy is hilarious, and after everything is over, is so mad that he missed it. Alice doesn’t agree with him. At all.

She’s technically Catholic - she was baptised, went to her first communion, and then pretty much stopped going to church. She goes to Pastor Jerome’s masses for the comfort and traditions when she moves back, but she doesn’t really believe.

She loves being on the water. She prefers surfing and kayaking, but adapts to the lakes and rivers of Hope County quickly. She’s not a huge fan of fish, but she starts to like fishing at some point. She definitely prefers it to hunting, and if given the choice, will definitely go fishing.

Speaking of hunting... Alice has a habit of darting off into a field of bliss when she’s bored hunting in the Henbane. She doesn’t actively do drugs, and doesn’t want to be an angel, but... She gets bored. And has impulse issues sometimes.

The Seeds tease/taunt her because of her height - she doesn’t even come up to Jacob’s shoulder, which I also think is kinda hilarious lol. Staci used to tease her too, but the entire department learned not to/were told by Whitehorse to stop (unless she can’t reach something and she doesn’t have anything to climb on)

When everything’s done, she helps Grace open up a little cafe. There’s plenty of people to help run it, and she thinks that (after a nice vacation) it would be good for Grace, and eventually Jess as well.

The Sheriff forces her to take a vacation after everything. She tries to go back to just being the Junior Deputy, but she gets roped into continuing to help the resistance. She pretty much takes over Virgil’s responsibilities as mayor, and helps to set up a small school for the few kids left in the county.

If you’ve seen Wynonna Earp - she has the same blue and white truck as Wynonna. She came back to Fall’s End with her little electric car, but that isn’t really feasible to keep using, so she took it up to Missoula one day and sold it. The salesman tried to sell her a fancy new truck, but she was happy with the one Jane had kept for her.

Most called gun for hire: Jess and Grace. She’s not the best at being sneaky, and her eyes aren’t the best for sniping (she had an optometrist appointment for a week after the initial mission, she obviously missed it), so she almost has one or both of them with her. When she needs to just fuck shit up, she’ll call Sharky, though

She started at the sheriff’s office as a secretary - it was a job, and she’d be able to look after her sister (“who didn’t need looking after” but there had been some fainting spells), and then after Hudson’s partner died, Whitehorse told her that she could apply for the role, and she took him up on that. 

If she did join the cult, she’d have a fairly nondescript position - probably something administrative, as that’s what her degree is in. Definitely something behind the scenes and non-violent.

Fucking loves disaster movies. She’s a slut for disaster movies. Like, she’ll sit through all the shitty SyFy channel ones as well as the big budget ones (San Andreas is one of her favorites - it’s so cheesy, but it has Dwayne Johnson and Alexandra Daddario, AND GIANT FUCKIN EARTHQUAKES. And the guy from Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries who is a total teddy bear)

She doesn’t really like planes or helicopters - if they are needed, she’ll get Nick or Addie. She knows enough to take off and land, but she’ll avoid flying herself if at all possible. The mission where Kim has her take Carmina and blow up peggie supplies? Fucking terrifying.

She rock climed and did some parkour back in LA. She didn’t keep up with it when she moved, but it obviously comes in handy...

Alice has two cats: Crookshanks and Data. They are both huge Norwegian forest cats, Crookshanks is an orange tabby, and Data is a grey tabby. When she’s not home, Mary May happily takes care of them.

She has a shitton of anxiety problems. She had a decent supply of meds when shit went down.

She has a major panic attack after driving Nick and Kim to the clinic. Even without the shit all over the road, she was terrified that she would crash and hurt or kill the Ryes. 

Relationships:

Jane - She’s 8 years older than Alice. Alice absoultely does not approve of her relationship with John, and is horrified when she finds out that her sister married the fucker.

Caleb - Both of them are horrible at keeping in contact, so he’s not worried at all when she goes off the radar. 

Joseph - She thinks he’s full of shit lol

John - Direct quote from when she’s told her sin is wrath: “No, it’s not wrath, it’s I fucking hate you.” Once they’re able to laugh about it, Hudson doesn’t let her live that down.

Faith - Uh, she obvs thinks Faith is the cutest. She has a hard time keeping her sass to an angry level, rather than super flirty.

Jacob - They fucked. After the Rye’s barbeque with the infamous watery mac n cheese. I still haven’t figured out why? She hates him now, and absoultely regrets the one night stand (...mostly. She thinks.)

Mary May - Her childhood best friend. They tried to keep in contact after Alice moved, but they eventually both moved on - Alice with new friends in LA, Mary May with helping to run the bar.

Pastor Jerome - He doesn’t mind that she isn’t a practicing Catholic, and welcomes her with open arms. She tries to get people to go to his church again after everything, to mixed levels of success.

Dutch - She’s not a huge fan of him, but she’s grateful for his help, and he is grateful for what she does and how she helps Jess.

Eli - He can’t reconcile the image of the Junior Deputy and the Alice he knows in his head - she doesn’t act anything like the rumors flying around the county, but he loves her (as a friend).

Tracey - They don’t get along very well - it’s a very strained, very professional relationship. Tracey knows that Alice likes Faith, and is very worried that she’ll be too soft on her.

Virgil - She loves his pins, which makes her super cool in his book. They quickly become friends, and he becomes a sorta mentor to her before his death.

Nick and Kim - Nick finds it hilarious that she hates planes so much, and he only uses it to tease her sometimes. Nick quickly becomes like an older brother to her, and she spoils Baby Rye rotten after she’s born.

Adelaide - Also amused by Alice’s feelings on flying, but doesn’t bring it up often as Alice was a frequent visitor to the marina before shit went down. Adelaide doesn’t understand Alice’s crush on Faith, but she will tease her about it (as long as Alice doesn’t defect).

Grace - The two met once before Grace’s parade, and then again at Alice’s dad’s funeral. They get along pretty well, and Alice always has her with her when liberating outposts or doing anything that requires her to have good vision.

Hurk - He drives her insane. She thinks he’s funny, and a really nice guy, but he’s so loud.

Sharky - On the other hand, she loves Sharky. She teases him about the time he puked on Grace every time he mentions having an upset stomach. They’ve drunkenly kissed a few times, but they both try and act like it didn’t happen.

Jess - In the main story? Her girlfriend by the end of the game. Jess teaches her how to hunt properly, even though Alice hates it. Jess joins in her teasing of Sharky about the puking. She hates it when Jess uses the fire arrows - Sharky and Hurk already set her clothes on fire, she doesn’t need it from her super-stealthy person! At the end of everything, she tries to convince Jess to play video games (instead of killing people), to some but not much success.

Relationship wise: They start off with drunken kisses, then one night stands, and then realise that the amount of one night stands (and nights when they fall asleep together) they have mean they’re kinda girlfriends. 

Fangs - She sleeps with Boomer in her bed every night, despite her cats protests. She’ll cuddle with Peaches and Cheeseburger when it’s cold and she’s outside, but it’s a little harder to get the two of them inside the house.

Marshal Burke - She thinks he’s a decent person, a little egotistical, but decent. She’s super shocked when he shoots himself.

Whitehorse - He’s part of the reason she starts to not mind fishing. He’s her surrogate dad, and has been looking out for her since her dad died. They’re both relieved to see each other after the crash.

Hudson - She’s not too sure about Alice at first, but she quickly becomes protective of the “city girl,” and willingly does all of the night driving.

Staci - Her brother’s ex-best friend (for the same reasons as with Mary May). She didn’t really get past “I tolerate you” until the events of the game. After he’s rescued, they become platonic cuddle buddies, even after he starts his thing with Stella. They both agree to not tell Caleb exactly what happened to both of them.

#deputy alice riley #oh lordy this is longer than i anticipated and i still cut out half of what i have in the word doc #apologies to anyone on mobile

[tumblunni]

Aaaaa life update

I now do not know when im gonna be moving to the assisted living mental hospital camp place. It was supposed to be today but then i rescheduled to the 6th cos i was having trouble preparing on short notice and then i had a stupid disaster of running out of my antidepressants and being unable to get my next perscription until 3 days too late. I crashed REAL hard from going straight up cold turkey out of nowhere, i was real fuckin scared of my own damn shadow and unable to sleep and getting huge damn headache and WORRYING SO MUCH I MADE IT ALL WORSE! And now thankfully ive got the pills again but i always get nauseus for the first two days or so after i start taking them and i missed loads of time to prepare cos i was having this freakout and aaaaagh i dont even know!!

I hope i havent missed my chance to go because of this, i mean i wasted like 300 pounds buying suitcases and new clothes and a laptop and all this preparation for being gone for 6 months in an unfamiliar house and just aaaaa! I dont even have anything to drink except water, i friggin threw out a whole freezer full of groceries cos i thought i would be gone by today! And i dont have money to buy more cos i spent it all on preparations and AGH the damn stupid discount laptop still hasnt arrived in the mail and it was such a stupid idea anyway like i know i wont have internet while im there but i just wanted to keep practising my pixelart and writing and such...

Aaaaugh why do i fail everything that i touch

At least i like.. Dont really feel panicked anymore. Im in a weird brain state now, i think the meds are kicking in after an hour so im stabilizing a bit and its just like Man These Things Are Still Bad But I Dont Know How To Feel About It. Like yknow that feeling when youre just.. Confused?? Negative emotion i guess but not any particular type of it. Its like im just generally unsettled and unable to relax but at least im not outright crying anymore. Its so dumb cos i KNOW that theres nothing i can do about it and i just have to wait til i feel better and then contact the therapist again to learn what new time i have to prepare for. (Or if its been cancelled, but i really hope not...) So im all full of pent up panic energy thats syaing DO SOMETHING but i cant. And also im not even panicking anymore and i know the panicking was just a horomonal imbalance from messing up my pill doseage times, rather thsn like my actual feelings and such. But im still stuck in that reactive state even after the irrational feelings have calmed down. Just friggin directionless Something Is Bad Today And I Dont Like It. Stoppppp

Hope i can calm down enough to at least get some sleep soon. I think i migjt be sick for longer than expected cos the insomnia has probably made it all a lot worse! Im gonna sleep for days when i finally settle down

Auauauauuuu

And man i wanna buy an energy drink or something to wake up from my stupor but i know caffeine puts me more on edge when im already in a panic. So im worried ill fall back into the panic state even tho i feel like ive come out of it now? And also might just make my sleeping patterns worse when i finalky manage to pass out.and also its like 3km to the nearest store cos this neighbourhood sucks, and im in no state to hobble down s billion roads all dizzy and sweaty and gross lookin. Also i dont have moneyyyyyy

Auauau prolific.com survey site please refresh with more Things so i can earn 20 pence for looking at bad pics of shoes or whatever. Let me scrape together a bit of spare change from your terrible mess of a site. BAD SHOE COMPANY QUESTIONNAIRES U R THE SAVIOUR OF THE POOR PEOPLE

Ok im just gonna go lie down and feel nebulously worried some more. Maybe think about some dumb kh headcanons to distract myself. Honestly being a Nobody probably feels similar to my PTSD lol. *shakes tiny lil hearts out of a pill bottle*

[vacationcalendar]

8/7/21

Hi boyfriend~

Just took a weed gummie in honor of Bonnie’s birthday weekend. My present for my friend is that I’ll suck it up and be an active participant in their life for a change. I’ll be game for a whole weekend. I got up early today and tagged along to volunteer at a charity 5k. We grabbed some coffee and wandered to the halfway point of the course (thus walking an entire 5k in the process! Not too shabby ;D), and then camped out a water station that I’d say should be very grateful I actually showed up to work its sorry ass. Bonnie didn’t have to do any managing/delegating, they just got to post up and chatter at the runners-by. I’m pretty sure if I didn’t go, and I promise I am not tooting my own horn, that water stand would not have been the fun water stand that it was. They would have had 2 dunces making it go worse, and only 3 people managing 4 tables of water cups. Volunteers man, what are you gonna do? I’m sure that’s why they were looking for 8 people per water stand, just to statistically ensure that SOMEONE with half a brain would be around to help out.

Great morning though. JUST a little too hot, but that’s how you know you were doing solid work out there. The proof is in the pits, baby!

Ok, 40 minute bathroom break is over. Man, nothing like starting the blog to make me SO productive in the mornings! It’s such a cheat code. I did laundry, dishes, pooped; my whole day is bright and available now! But now I’m tired and I don’t want to write anymore. I had about a 6 minute where I wanted to do this today and I actually hit it for a second before I had to stop and do ANYTHING ELSE I guess. So, fuck. What do we write now?

I had to get up suuuuper early for this 5k thing, and I only got like 4 hours of sleep because I did not factor in the early wake up until like 6pm yesterday, and I had already slept like 14 hours that day :I That’s right, I woke up, immediately crushed the blog, went back to laying down, played League, and watched tv and shit until I felt tired enough to sleep and get ready for the 5k, which was 2am. So now I have a weed gummie digesting in me and I have a nap climbing up my priority list and this is why I don’t like weed. I feel like I have to plan my fucking shit around it, and I’m not good at that. Part of me thinks I can crash right now and wake up before the drugs make me sleep for 2 hours longer than I want, and give me weird, unpleasant dreams. I can’t possibly pull that off, I’m not sleepy, I’m just like sluggish. So basically what I have to do now is power through into the “trip” (maybe I’ll luck out and miss it and I can just pretend I’m high, which I won’t do, but hey we’re brainstorming here), and let that smoothly transition me into a nap. And THAT would mean that I have to entertain myself for the time being to get me into a good place to start being high...? And then I can like power up my activities WHILE high, and that would be fun. Playing video games, great. Playing video game high? That’s the whole point of it. I mean like, that’s the whole point of life, right? And then I can be like NAPTIME BITCH, and that would be fun also, in theory. And then I can go put a podcast on and go to the movies? Ugh, I don’t want to go the movies anymore. I’m to tired :( This sucks.

I’m trying to go see Green Knight. I’m sure that sentence won’t matter at all in even like 4 months from now, but I think it should be a fun time. So much more productive than anything I can do from the desk. And it’s not summertime like this forever. You gotta get that shit in so you don’t think you miss it when the weather turns. You want to be sitting inside on a cold autumn day thinking “good riddance, being outside is entirely overrated.” And I’m not there yet. Man I don’t know. Well how bout this? Let’s do a little more brainstorming while I’m trapped here writing to your dumb ass. If you ever read these again this part will be like a little prank on you lol. Ok: 1: Stay here, no movie. Let’s lock that in. that should make having to navigate being high so much easier. Let’s let the pipe dream of doing everyone’s favorite thing of being at a theater high wait just a little longer. Today can be a trial run. We’ll walk around today and think about what it would be like if I had biked 20 minutes to a movie theater and watched a 2 hour movie and biked home. And when we suss out that it would have been unenjoyable, we’ll feel like geniuses for making this call. So that’s out of the way. LOCK IT IN

2. I don’t know yet. Let’s just start simple. Food. What’s up? We have almost no groceries. We have no bread for a tuna salad sandwich, but let’s put that in the to-do list. We need more english muffins too. That was an A+ 10/10 move last month. Just muffins w/ strawberry jam, and egg McMuffins whenever the fuck I wanted, which was always. Frozen Veggies like Corn or Beans would be good. Bag Chop Salad kits. They weren’t on sale last week, and it’s goddamn highway robbery when they’re at full price. So this week would be the perfect time to check in on ‘em. And I’ll commit more to an equivalent substitute this time if I can’t find a good deal. Let’s see, what else? Oof my wpm and accuracy is starting to take a hit. The first and only symptom! Nice! Miku. Meat. Spaghetti and meat sauce? Gotta check out what ragu shit you have in the house before you do that. Consider this your reminder! I know you’ve never successfully pulled that off, but I have full confidence in you. Oh fuck, now I’m starting to worry a little bit the coherent quality of this is about to start dropping. Well, another fun little prank for ya bitch! Fruit leathers? I just have no fucking idea. Ok, so shopping can 100% wait for another day. This isn’t anywhere close to a cohesive trip. So we can eat out somewhere! Great, lock it bitch. I’m starting to swear more; it’s because I can’t find the right words anymore. Oh boy, the weed smelling burps are happening. This really is so gross and difficult. Beer is just a more bitter version of soda. It’s actively refreshing. Damn, if only I’d been a little more exposed to peer pressure at an earlier age. I’d have been past this awkward uncomfortable phase of weed, like how I (and basically everyone) was with alcohol. You slam Natty Lites with your nose closed until you start to realize life is little more pleasurable than the absolute Kelvin zero you had come to be familiar with. Uh, ok, I’m starting to let my mind wander. He’s daydreaming, chief! I suppose I could just transcribe the dialogue of the daydreams, but I can’t keep up. This is just break o’clock.

3. What do I fucking eat!? I had to make a whole nother numbered point, and I still don’t have the plan. Jesus H,. Ok here’s what AROUND. Chex Mix, unopened. 1 Grape Soda. Cookie Dough Ice Cream (w choc sauce). Raisins, PB, Ramen, meh. Reese Cups! I just looked behind and was like, “oh yeah! Nice”. If that’s not everything, that’s REALLY close. So what’s calling my name? Pizza? Chinese? Damn, I might just have to play this by ear. Nothing at all sounds interesting, and I’m not the slightest bit hungry (we got free Dim Sum after the 5k. It was called the Dim Sum and Then Some 5k). Ok, so other options to keep on the back burner for later would be: Kebab, Chicken Sandwich, go get Pizza Rolls and Chippies at the store. Ok that’s enough options, that fuckin really took it outta me, I can’t believe it. My hands are kinda feeling heavier now too. I better think of a #4 thing to write about quick or I may lose all my inertia.

4. UMmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Movie time? I watch arrival and turn off all the lights and pop popcorn and have my soda? Where sunglasses and pretend they’re 3-D glasses? Maybe. Ugh, I can tell right now my eyes are gonna get bloodshot, or dry out or whatever. They already kinda hurt :(. It’s fine. I feel more good than not. Like I’m wrapped up in a blanket, even though I’m not. Maybe OH- Maybe I lay out on the beach chair and read in the sun with an ice coffee? Oh fuck that might actually be perfect. Then I can go no shirt and just feel nature, and maybe bugs are less troublesome when you’re high. And then I can pop Doughboys on and shower! Shower high, seems like a guaranteed home-run. Ok, I like it a lot. I have to do SOMETHING away from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum or I’ll go crazy this weekend, especially if I have to tag in on occasion and “participate” for Bonnie’s Birthday. Which, let’s be clear, is the least I can do. It’s a gimme. I owe Bonnie AT LEAST this much, even just as like backpay for holidays or yore. Like if I have the zhuzh to punch in for birthday shtuff, I better do it, right? I just looked it up, it might officially be zhoosh, not zhuzh, but zhuzh appears to me to be the best way to do it. And there’s like 5 accepted spellings of it. Stupid, not helpful. Just because it employs a sound that has no [conformed] applications in the english language? Poor excuse! Oh man, it’s so early I can’t believe it! That 5k feels like a day ago, wild. Well, hey! Point 4 is finished. Moving on!

5. What to do tonight? Who gives a fuck. Figure that part out when you get there, it does not matter at all. There, numbered list over.

Ok so, let’s just wrap this up I guess. I’m cracking an hour here, that’s plenty. Maybe tonight you do a little PRE-WRITING before bed, so this isn’t so “chore-y”. Let’s just remember you seriously considered letting yourself down completely and bailing on the blog earlier this morning. So we need to keep our expectations at appropriate levels still. It’s this NEXT week that should be very interesting. Just in terms of output. A little more practice, and little more muscle-memory. A little less crap to distract me (I have been burning through non-stop crap youtube/tv this last week since coming home, it’s fantastic. I was gonna say it was sucky, or disgusting or something, but that’s a lie I tell to myself to pretend I’m more diligent than I actually am. ACCEPT who you are and love yourself for it)

I accept you and love you Max. Ok, I have to go, I feel like I’m gonna puke... awesome 

bi

[blatherkatt]

Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]

Chapter 33: Declarations 

Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Implied/Mentioned abuse, mentions of terrorism, death mention, injury mention, depiction of an emotional breakdown, trauma aftermath; Illustrated; Pesterlog

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

— carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling tipsyGnostalgic [TG] —

CG: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

— tipsyGnostalgic [TG] is an idle chum! —

CG: FUCK YOU, I CAN SEE THAT FOR MYSELF, YOU PIECE OF SHIT PROGRAM. I’M GONNA FUCKING YELL ANYWAY.

CG: I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO PICK ME UP AT NOON. IT’S LIKE, 1:30 AND YOU STILL AREN’T HERE, WHAT GIVES?

CG: IF YOU GOT KIDNAPPED, TOO, I SWEAR TO FUCK I’M PERSONALLY PUTTING THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN FAMILY UNDER PERMANENT WATCH.

CG: I’M NOT ABOVE SITTING ON YOU ASSHOLES IF THATS WHAT IT TAKES.

TG: okay first off i know youre like a literal alien but heres a protip for ya:

TG: general human earth etiquette is to not text people who you know are probably driving?

TG: its like a whole thing

CG: WHY

TG: idk probs because texting while driving’s a great way to fucking crash lol

TG: anyway!!

TG: yeah im real sorry about that mom fucking rang me up like

TG: hi im at the airport come get me!

TG: out of fucking nowhere because everything has to be a fucking hassle with this woman

TG: so i had to go get her

CG: WHY THE FUCK WAS SHE AT THE AIRPORT?

TG: because fuck me is why

TG: and THEN shes like

TG: ooooh i gotta do some mysterious whatthefuckever errand at some mall out in the middle of nowhere

TG: so now im sitting in the parking lot waiting for her to get back which might be a while because her bad leg’s been acting up lately

TG: and thats why im not there yet >:(

CG: WAIT. WAIT, HOLD ON, I’M CONFUSED.

CG: BY “MOM” ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT RACHEL? I DIDN’T EVEN THINK SHE HAD A BAD LEG.

TG: nonono

TG: ray is like. dirk and dave and rose’s mom

TG: i dont call her mom i just call her aunt ray cuz shes not my mom yknow

TG: my mom is aunt ray’s sister

TG: aunt ramona? they talk about her?

CG: OOOOOOH. YEAH.

CG: THE WOMAN WHO WRITES THOSE SHITTY SUPERNATURAL ROMANCE BOOKS KANAYA LOVES.

TG: hahaha yeah her trashy shit is great

CG: SHE’S HERE?

TG: apparently!!!!!!!!

CG: I’M SENSING SOME BITTERNESS.

TG: ugh its fine she just always does shit like this

TG: womans always gotta make a fuckin entrance even if that means not telling anyone shes coming

TG: and its goddamn annoying as shit!!

TG: but its fine i get it shes here to help out and we are kinda all hands on deck

TG: speaking of tho i heard something about kanaya not coming along after all?

CG: NOT YET, NO.

CG: SHE’S BEEN TALKING TO ROSE, AND APPARENTLY DAVE’S BEEN PRETTY UNEASY WITH THE NUMBER OF NEW FACES AT THE HIVE.

CG: HOUSE. WHATEVER.

CG: TEREZI’S PROTECTION DETAIL HAS HIM KIND OF ON EDGE, I GUESS?

CG: SHE’S GONNA COME AROUND LATER PROBABLY. AND MIGHT END UP STAYING WITH PORRIM AND KEEP IT TO VISITS, AT LEAST UNTIL THINGS SETTLE DOWN A BIT.

CG: SO IT’S JUST ME FOR NOW.

TG: ooooh yeah geez i bet

TG: poor dave :( :( :(

TG: i gotta tell you and mom some uh. serious shit about him when i pick you both up

TG: id pass it on here but its probs better if i just tell you face to face?

CG: OH, WONDERFUL!

CG: MORE NO DOUBT HORRIFIC NEWS REGARDING DAVE.

CG: I CAN’T WAIT. THIS PANIC ATTACK’S GONNA BE ONE FOR THE RECORD BOOKS, I CAN JUST FEEL IT!!!

TG: :(

TG: tl;dr hes not in great shape but hes getting better but theres some stuff we gotta go over

TG: jfc mom what the fuck are you doing its been ages

CG: SO WAIT. SHE JUST HAD YOU DRIVE HER OUT SOMEWHERE AND WALKED OFF ALONE?

TG: yeah

TG: woman can take care of herself just fine so like im not worried??

TG: but still, like. cmon woman!!! whatever it is hurry up a little

TG: it cant be that important we got places to be

In terms of location, it was almost an outlet mall; somewhat detached from the nearest city and surrounded by forest. It was mostly all one building, positioned in a dip in the ground next to a clear stream, and these features had helped make it a serviceable fortress during the invasion, although Derek had regularly complained that he’d have preferred a site that held the high ground. Still, they’d made do; the roof was high enough that one could see for quite some distance, the stream offered fresh water, the trees provided decent enough cover during skirmishes, and the walls were thick enough to turn away most weather and weapons. It hadn’t been much, but it had served well enough as home for six years for around threescore ragtag survivors-turned-fighters.

Out in the surrounding forest, those who hadn’t survived that conflict still lay buried in pitiful graves marked only with a stone or a chunk of wood. There hadn’t been time to properly put anyone to rest; it had been risky enough for two or three people to slip out during a stretch of quiet with a shovel and a body. They simply hadn’t been able to afford to have any sort of formal burial, not with the threat of an attack constantly looming.

Even so, even so…

Derek had picked a spot he would remember.

In life, the oak tree would have been the kind people would have thought of as a monarch, with branches spread wide and gnarled wood ancient and strong, holding children in its branches as easily as if they were made of nothing; but the tree had already been dead by the time the invasion started, a great, ancient, dried-out husk. Even so, decades later, it still stood, its branches reaching toward the sky, the other trees forming a circle around it as though too respectful to come too close. Mushrooms and trails of greenery crept about a quarter of the way up the ancient trunk.

At its roots, a rotting wooden spar stuck up out of the ground. This, too, had been reclaimed by flowers, grasses and mushrooms, decorating the splintered and decayed timber with dark summer greens and pale white-and-lavender blooms.

Derek Strider, down on one knee with his sheathed sword held in his right hand, sighed. Of course, the trouble with having to bury the dead so hastily meant that there’d been no one to look over the graves, so it was to be expected that it be in such disrepair, but even so, seeing this one choked out by the invading flora was…

It wasn’t right.

Overhead, the ancient branches rustled slightly, and the raucous calling of a bird broke the silence. Derek narrowed his eyes and ignored it, tried to write the disrespectful noise out of the scene.

The crow seemed to have other ideas. The bird lighted down on the wooden grave marker, red eyes fixed on Derek’s face. It flapped its wings a few times, cawing incessantly. Derek scowled, unsheathed his sword, and struck —

The blade passed through the bird with no resistance whatsoever. The creature’s body split in two, bloodlessly, as though Derek had cut through smoke — it even looked like smoke, like a cloud cut in two by a passing jet. As Derek looked on, uncomprehending and with a growing sense of dread, the bird’s body seemed to pull itself back together, a video played in reverse, and the bird’s accusatory squawks started up again as though nothing had happened.

Derek was on his feet in an instance, stepping away from the beast, and as he did, he happened to look up…

Perched on nearly every branch of the old tree were ravens. Unlike the crow, they were all silent, and aside from the occasional shifting of a foot or tilting of a head, motionless. Scores of staring animal eyes bored into him.

Derek had never been a superstitious man, but nor was he the sort of fool to ignore the truth his own eyes showed him. He’d spent six years fighting alongside a witch, and seen enough to learn that some things really couldn’t be explained away as coincidence.

Had it been anyone else, he would have responded to the sound of footsteps approaching this site with a furious attack; even Ben knew better than to disturb him here. But when he whirled to face the intruder, he froze.

She’d aged more since he’d last seen her than he would have expected. Hints of silver streaked her hair, and she leaned heavily on her gnarled black cane. A faint breeze stirred the black fabric of her dress, playing with the light shawl laying across her shoulders. The crow had fallen silent.

“Put that thing away before you take someone’s eye out,” said Ramona, nodding nonchalantly at Derek’s sword.

Derek narrowed his eyes, and did not respond aloud, instead choosing to slowly and deliberately slide the sword back into its sheathe. Only after his left hand had returned to his side did Ramona nod and continue.

“That’s better,” she said. “Now we can talk things over like reasonable adults. Mind you, I ought to do the world a favor and wipe you out right now,” and Derek took a slow, deep breath at that, as she continued, “But I’d prefer not to desecrate your brother’s grave by staining it with your blood. I respect him far too much for that. You, however, have somehow managed to exceed all of my worst expectations to a nearly unfathomable degree, as of late. I’ve held off on this confrontation out of respect for the past, but I can see now that this was a mistake.”

Derek shifted. “Everything I’ve done has been to protect our damn planet, Ramona,” he started, but was cut off.

“Really?” she said, “Well, then. I’m not about to attempt to ask you to cease killing trolls, as we both know that would be pointless, but I would very much like to know how exactly burning your own son alive plays into your grand battle strategy?”

“He…he turned on us,” Derek said, through gritted teeth, “He forced my hand, left me no choice!”

“He is a child!” Ramona snapped. “And you, of all people, should know better! If you really must follow this path of self-destruction to its end, fine, but he should never have been involved!”

“I—”

“And in any case, you had a perfectly good sword on hand, I’m sure. If young Dave really did need to die, you could have executed him with minimal pain, but no, you wanted him to hurt, to know he was dying and to fear you and suffer as he passed. How do you justify that, Derek? How does anyone, especially a child, deserve anything of the sort?”

The eyes of the ravens and that damned crow still drilled into him. He could feel the stares on his back, but kept his eyes locked on Ramona’s, refusing to back down.

He wasn’t going to take back what he’d done. There’d be no guilt, he’d done nothing wrong except overreact a bit. It was justified. That…that boy wasn’t Dave. Ramona was using the name like a blade, but she’d not win that way. He didn’t deserve the fucking name, didn’t deserve to have anything to do with Dave, he never would have let Rachel name the kid that if he’d known he was going to grow up to be such a pathetic, useless little coward.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he said.

“No, I suppose you don’t,” said Ramona, folding her hands over the top of her cane. “I’ve a fairly good idea, in any case.” She sighed. “The war is over, Derek. The time to put aside this violence and misery is long since behind us. Our children do not deserve to grow up as we did.”

“The trolls are still here,” Derek spat.

There was a long silence. Ramona sighed again.

“Fine, then,” she said, “So be it. Do as you will. Chase violence as long as you like. But if you come near my family again, I will consider it an act of war.”

She turned, and he was tempted to take the bait, to try attacking her while her back was turned, but he held still. It was infuriating, knowing what a pointed insult turning her back on him was, knowing that she knew he would not risk attacking her—but she was right. She was much too dangerous.

“Come along, little one,” she said, abruptly. The crow rose off the grave and flew to land on top of Ramona’s cane. If Derek had cared to pay any attention, he might have noticed the crow look back at him with something like regret in its eyes, but Derek was already far too lost in his own thoughts.

As one bird, the ravens took wing, dispersing in all directions, leaving him alone again.

The trouble with trying to go from Alternian to English was a multifaceted one, to be sure, but so far the most obnoxious piece of it that Karkat could see was the tendency of guides on how to speak English to simply use the closest Alternian equivalent as an English word’s translation. More and more, the two languages were notably extremely different, and while he could speak English well enough that he’d never had any serious problems, there were any number of words that he kept tripping over as a result of a translation being extremely unclear and culturally misleading.

Witches, for instance, were clearly something very different on Earth. The Alternian word that was translated to English as “witch” was, like most Alternian words, a series of noises in the ‘click and growl’ family that most humans lacked the anatomy to create, and generally refered to certain lowblood prophets and healers in Alternian folklore. They were those who lived away from society and who, through some lucky genetics and convenient psychic powers, were able to fend of drones and effectively disappear from the world at large’s knowledge. They kept to themselves, sought to harm no one who didn’t attack them first, offered shelter to the weak and the hunted, and as such were always portrayed as utterly despicable beings in fiction, as no writer with any sense of self-preservation had dared to portray such reckless treachery under the rule of the last Condesce. There might have been some changes to the lore under the new one’s rule, but things like that changed slow.

In any case, they certainly weren’t anything like the old woman in a shawl who was sitting next to Roxy in the front of her car.

She was dressed all in black, for one thing. Alternian witches didn’t tend to wear much black. Some Alternian witches didn’t tend to wear all that much clothing at all, really. Most seemed to belong to ancient religions that weren’t particularly fond of shirts.

Ramona was definitely magic as shit, though, Rachel’d been right about that much. Was that all a witch was on Earth, just someone with magic? Fuck, if that were the case, then probably like at least a third of all trolls were witches by Earth’s standards. Then again, maybe magic was another poorly translated word? English didn’t seem to have a word to separate “things that we (read: trolls) know exist, like psychic powers and psiionics and ghosts and chucklevoodoos,” and “things that are super fake and don’t actually happen ever and make no sense.”

Whatever. In any case, Ramona didn’t look at all like Karkat had expected, and when he climbed into the back of the car, she didn’t react to his presence with anything stronger than an amiable nod. She seemed to have her mind on other things, and was largely silent at first.

Roxy wasn’t; she immediately piped up happily as Karkat swung open the door with a “Hey, man! Sorry about taking so long! Can you, uh, do me a favor and check on Jaspers? He’s in the carrier behind Mom, Rose asked me to pick him up while she and Aunt Ray were gone. He’s been missing them a lot, all staring out the window and kneading his blanket and shit, and he’s not a huge fan of car rides.”

“He’s asleep,” Karkat said after glancing into the little crate.

“Awesome. Alright, buckle up and we’ll get this damn show on the road.”

“On the road again, just can’t wait to get on—”

Karkat tilted his head as the car’s radio abruptly changed from quietly playing some human pop song over to something much louder and completely different. Ramona stifled a snort as Roxy stabbed a button, switching the radio back to the previous channel.

“No, thank you,” she said, glaring. “Christ, the fuck is with this thing today, I swear to god.”

“I suppose it may simply be getting into the spirit of things,” said Ramona with a smile. As the car pulled away from the curb, she turned back a bit to face Karkat. “It’s Karkat, isn’t it? Rachel’s been sending me any number of emails with updates, and from the sound of things, you’ve been rather instrumental in bringing young Dave back into the fold, so to speak.”

“…Into the what?”

“It’s a figure of speech, meaning in this case that you’ve helped us return him home as well as helping him to adjust to being there,” she said. “For which you have all of our heartfelt thanks. Ours is perhaps not the most functional of families, but it  is ours, and as I’m sure you’ve seen firsthand, ripping away a piece of it the way Derek did has had some very painful consequences for all involved. We owe you a great deal.”

“Yeah, man!” Roxy said. “And from what Rose has been telling me, you were kind of a big part of why he finally spilled what he knows. Which, he did bee-tee-dubs, which means he’s off house arrest finally, so that’s good—”

“—And a partridge in a pear tree,” the radio crackled.

“What the fuck? It’s August,” Roxy scowled. She turned the radio off altogether as Ramona glanced hurriedly out the window.

“Speaking of Dave,” Karkat said, hopefully before anyone got distracted again, “Roxy, you mentioned that there was something that you needed to say face to face?”

“Right, shoot, yeah,” said Roxy. The car turned onto the long road that led eventually to the Lalonde hive. “Okay, so, like. There’s definitely some shit you should know before we get there, but I wanna preface it all real clearly by saying that Dave’s okay, y’know? He’s got a lot of healing to do, but the doctors said that as long as he’s looked after and we change bandages and shit and he gets plenty of rest, he’s definitely not in any danger anymore. He’s…weak, but he’s not like gonna keel over at any moment, okay?”

“Not actually making me feel any better, Roxy!” said Karkat. Oh, boy, with a preface like that…

“Well, fuck, I tried, I guess. Uh. So, Dave did get hurt…pretty bad, and there were some other complications—oh, for fuck’s sake!!”

“Watch me, watch me, hey, watch me, watch me!” The radio was louder than ever. Ramona’s hand flew up, poorly hiding a grin.

Karkat leaned around Roxy’s seat to glare at her.

“What the fuck, Roxy,” said Karkat.

“I’m not doing this!” Roxy said, waving her hand wildly. “I swear to fuck, I wouldn’t! I really do need to pass on some shit about poor Dave, and the radio’s never done this before? It’s been acting up since a little before we picked you up, keeps changing on its own and shit, augh!”

She fought with the controls, but the song stopped only for a moment before getting even louder.

“Why the fuck do you humans even have this obnoxious song?! Who listens to this?? It’s literally just some squawking wiggler screeching for its lusus’s attention!”

“I mean, I kinda love it for that honestly, it’s terrible and stupid and wonderful, but like, come the fuck on??? What’s with this thing?! Now is not the time!”

“Ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass ass—“

“GOD, that’s even worse!!” Roxy yelled, slamming her fist down on the dashboard. “Fucking stop!!”

“That’s enough for now,” Ramona said, almost murmuring it.

The radio turned off. Karkat and Roxy both turned a suspicious eye on Ramona, and with equal simultaneity, decided to drop it for now.

“Anyway,” Roxy said slowly, “What I was trying to say is, um…Karkat, do you know what it means for someone to ‘flatline?’ Because, um. Dave kinda did, for like, a minute and a half.”

Karkat shook his head, realized Roxy probably couldn’t see him with her eyes on the road, and said, “Uh, I have no idea what that word means, no.”

“Well, um…”

“It refers to a heart monitor indicating that the heart has ceased beating,” Ramona said. “The machine indicates activity with a line which shows peaks and valleys, and it goes flat when that activity has stopped, thus, ‘flatline’. The organ we call a heart serves an equivalent function to what trolls call a ‘blood pusher’ or a ‘pump biscuit.’”

Karkat felt for a moment like his own pump biscuit had stopped.

“Shit, Mom, when did you get so good at translating to trolls?” Roxy murmured.

Ramona shrugged. “I’ve made efforts to reach out,” she said. “The war ended, after all, and since we’re allies now, it doesn’t hurt to learn about each others’ cultures.”

“His fucking—What?!” Karkat screeched, unable to keep the harsh buzzing whine out of his voice. God, that was such a moirail noise, and any other time he’d have yelled at himself for not keeping it under control, but not now, not when… “His fucking blood pusher stopped and I’m supposed to be calm!?!”

“They got it moving again!” Roxy said. “He’s okay now, the doctors said it was going strong! It was, um, mostly just exhaustion, they think? Like, the burn wounds could’ve killed him on their own, sure, but they got on those quick enough that if he’d been healthy to begin with he probably wouldn’t have been so bad off? But between ten years of, you know…and just, apparently he hasn’t been eating enough even while he’s been back with us? And Ray’s gonna get on his ass about that, but, just—look, the thing is, Dirk doesn’t know about this yet, and Aunt Ray’s asked that we try to keep it that way, and I don’t really get why but I think she has her reasons?”

Karkat was definitely hyperventilating, oh fuck, oh fuck—Ramona’s hand reached back to touch his own, snapping him out of it.

“It’s fine to be worried,” she said, gentle. “I promise you, though, it is as Roxy says: he’ll be fine given time to recover and the safety with which to do so. He’ll be alive when we get there.” She sat back in her chair, turning towards the road again. “As for Dirk, I suspect Rachel is waiting for things to settle down before breaking it to him gently. He is, for better or worse, very like his father, and Derek handled his brother’s death poorly, in large part because at the time we could not afford to mourn. Rachel probably wants to make sure that Dirk does not feel he has to force himself to be strong when she tells him.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Roxy muttered. “Anyway, the main thing about that is that he’s not got a lot of energy right now, so don’t…take it personally if he just falls asleep on you sometimes? Especially with the painkillers he’s on, apparently that’s a side effect, too. He can walk short distances, but he gets wobbly quick and needs help sometimes, so there’s that too.”

“Fuck,” said Karkat, softly.

The next ten minutes of the ride were carried out in tense silence. This was broken by the radio once again bursting back on and blasting the ass song again, at which point Roxy threatened to pull over and smash the fucking thing to smithereens.

By the time they actually got to the fucking house, Karkat felt like his soul was going to vibrate right out of his fucking body with impatience. They had yet another delay in the form of Terezi’s protection detail—Terezi herself wasn’t there, but some officers were, and they insisted on knowing about any weapons the three of them had as well as names, and went in to check with the family while making them all wait outside by the car. Karkat already had his fucking bag in hand, he was ready to go, but no, they had to go through this tedious procedure! Sure, it was probably a smart move, and when he was feeling a little more sensible he’d be more okay with it as it was the sort of thing that probably would make them all feel a bit safer (especially poor fucking Dave), but right now the were a pain in the ass and he was going to fucking explode!!! If they didn’t!!! Let him get in the fucking hive!!!!!

Rose stepped out as they were still talking to the police, and for the first time in his life Karkat was unspeakably happy to see her. She quickly confirmed to the police that all three of them were in fact expected and trusted by this household, and then gently let Jaspers out of his carrier. The cat immediately yowled and threw himself into her arms, kneading at her shoulders and rubbing his face against hers, and it all would have been super cute if Karkat didn’t have his mind on other fucking things.

“Come on in,” Rose said, nodding towards the door. “Dirk’s on the couch and Dave’s in Mom’s room, as neither of them can handle stairs right now and Dave needs his bandages changed at least twice a day. Karkat, do you—”

She was talking to air. He was already in the fucking door.

And then had to face the fact that he’d never actually been to Rachel’s room. Fuck. Rachel was coming up the hall, though, and a slightly bewildered young human (wait, fuck, that was Dirk, what happened to his hair? It looked so weird hanging down like that instead of spiked up) was sitting on the couch with an Earth husktop on his lap. Roxy pushed in the door with Ramona right behind her, dropped a heavy wheeled bag right next to the door, and immediately launched herself at Dirk, who gave a startled yelp as she did so.

Rachel rested a hand on Karkat’s shoulder as she passed him, rushing up toward Ramona throwing her arms around her shoulders. The two shared a long hug, and Rachel kissed Ramona’s cheek.

“God, I’m so glad you’re here,” Karkat heard Rachel murmur, before Rose tapped his shoulder.

“I was asking if you knew where Mom’s room is,” Rose said.

“Uh.”

“It’s down the hall to the observatory, but you take a left before you get to it. Make sure to make plenty of noise on the way over, Dave gets really jumpy when he’s the only person in that room. He can’t block the door since we need to be able to come in and out, and it’s got him a bit on edge.”

Karkat nodded, unable to get any words out past the lump in his throat. He more or less just dropped his bag on the ground and pushed past, zooming around toward the room indicated. Dave looked half-asleep when Karkat pushed the door open, and waved as he sat up with some effort.

God, the photo Rose had taken didn’t do justice to how fucking bad he looked. There were bruises across his face and neck turned a weird greenish-gray but still dark against his skin, and bandages everywhere, his hair was a mess (although that might have just been from sleeping). He was in some oversized shirt with an Earth hoofbeast on the front that was probably Dirk’s judging by the size, and Karkat had no idea why Dave had it on but right now he didn’t care.

“Hey, man, uh. Shit’s been crazy, huh?” Dave said with an awkward grin. He didn’t have his shades on either, which made sense if he’d been sleeping, except they weren’t on the bedside table (which did instead contain a nearly empty glass of water, several bottles of pills and salves, and a first aid kit from which clean cloth bandages overflowed).

Two weeks of emotion boiled over all at once. Wordless, Karkat stomped across the room and grabbed Dave’s stupid fucking shirt in both hands and tugged him close.

“It was three days, Dave,” Karkat hissed.

“Wha—?”

“Three days! And you got yourself fucking kidnapped by a terrorist on day goddamn two!! What the fuck, Dave?!” His voice was threatening to abandon him, but Karkat forced it right back into place by sheer willpower. This tangent would not be fucking stopped, hell no. “I take my eyes off of you for two days, and you get yourself into shit again! What the fuck!!! Do you have any idea how-how fucking agonizing it’s been waiting for news?! And you’re just sitting there like ‘Oh, hey! What’s up?’ What’s up is my foot up your waste chute, you hopeless fucking—!” Okay, nope, his voice was leaving after all, actually. He felt tears roll down his face, and he should’ve been more worried about that, but Dave already knew about his blood color and he was the only troll in the house right now, so, fuck it, fuck it all! Helpless, he tugged Dave closer again, letting his face press against that stupid shirt, claws still twisted into the fabric as he sobbed.

“Holy shit,” Dave muttered.

“I was so fucking scared,” Karkat gasped. This was pathetic, they weren’t remotely a couple, Karkat had no right to be this worked up and he knew it, but…Dave wasn’t exactly pushing him away, either, was he?

“I’m sorry, man, I didn’t even…It wasn’t planned this time, it just sorta happened, and Dirk got hurt, and I…”

“I’m not actually angry at you, despite having so much right to be that legislacerators everywhere have preemptively declared me innocent. I’m just fucking screaming for the sake of it, dumbass.”

“Oh.”

The awkward pause that followed was filled with only the sound of Karkat’s weeping, which, fuck, he was probably too fucking embarrassed to tell him off. Except…Dave’s hand lifted up to rest gently against Karkat’s back, so, maybe he didn’t mind that much? Was that wishful thinking?

“Sorry for this,” he said, just in case, as he pulled away a bit. “It’s really fucking embarrassing, I know, I just…”

“It’s cool, man,” said Dave. Then, with a wink, he said, “I know you got your massive Strider homocrush, it’s only natural—”

“Dave, I swear to fuck, injured or not, I will pummel you into dust with a fucking pillow, don’t test me!” Karkat snapped.

Dave snorted. “Hey, man, it’s fine, everyone’s allowed to be a lil gay sometimes with their friends, it’s only natural.”

“I’ll ‘natural’ you!! Motherfucker, I spent the two weeks worrying about your wellbeing and you come at me with more of this bullshit!!”

Dave cackled with laughter. Karkat rolled his eyes and sniffled. He feigned annoyance as best he could, but, God, it was such a relief to hear Dave laugh. Rubbing a sweater sleeve furiously across his eyes, Karkat pulled back, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed. “Okay, but seriously, what’s with the shirt?” he asked, gesturing at the floating head of the hoofbeast. It wasn’t even a joke or a drawing. It was just…a straight photo of a hoofbeast’s face, with no text or explanation of any sort. What the fuck??

Dave glanced down, and snickered. “Oh, shit. Uh, yeah, we needed something that’s easy to get me in and out of, since the bandages on this fuckin’ burn need to be changed like, a lot, not to mention the gross-ass cream they have us slathering all over it on the regular. We tried a button down, but the buttons were kinda chafing, and like…who the fuck wants to ruin a fancy shirt with gross burn juices, right? And Dirk’s shit is more comfortable, and this one’s big enough that it’s real easy to take off even if I’m high on the damn painkillers.”

Karkat winced slightly, but decided not to comment. The scream from the video echoed somewhere in his think pan. “Where’re your shades?”

“Bro fuckin’ stepped on them or something, man, I dunno. They fell off at some point, and they were already cracked before all that, and Terezi just found pieces. Which fucking sucks, I mean God dammit, those were a gift from John. Shit sucks.”

“John?” Karkat tipped his head.

“Yeah, he’s like, an old friend of mine. Have I not mentioned him to you? Whatever, he, uh.” Dave scratched at the side of his head. “He was an online friend from before Bro started doing the, uh, raid shit, and I kept talking to him and another friend, Jade, for a while afterwards even though I wasn’t supposed to?”

“Jade’s name I remember,” Karkat said.

“Haha, yeah, yeah cuz I told you about…anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I guess since Dirk’s college is starting up again soon, not that he’s going for the first couple weeks with his leg and a fucking concussion, but, it’s starting up, and John’s sister goes there too, and he’s gonna come with so we’ll be able to hang out for a bit? Which is fuckin’ rad, I haven’t even talked to the guy in three years and we’re finally meeting in person.”

“You want him to be here? While you’re this badly injured?” Karkat yelped.

Dave blinked at him like he’d just grown a secondary head.

“I mean, yeah?” Dave said. “Like, yeah, I’m not in great shape and I guess it’ll be a lil weird for him to see me like this, but I’ve missed him.” Before Karkat could press the question further, though, Dave yawned. “Ugh, fuck, I wanna keep talking, but I’m…halfway to falling asleep, shit.”

“Oh,” said Karkat. He got up, ready to leave. He wanted to stay, wanted to curl himself around Dave’s obnoxiously lanky frame as best he could and protect this fragile idiot human from the entire universe, but…it wasn’t his place, was it? No.

“You leaving?” said Dave, rubbing at his unbruised eye.

“You said you wanna sleep,” Karkat said.

“Right. Uh. Could you, like…fill this back up for me, then, I guess?” Dave said.

“…Sure,” said Karkat.

He was…still confused, but Dave was tired, so he didn’t press. But he couldn’t wrap his head around wanting a friend around while he was so injured—well, he’d wanted Karkat around, hadn’t he? He’d seemed happy to see him, aside from the, uh, yelling. Still, it didn’t make sense! Every troll knew as a small child that the only people you could trust when you were injured were your lusus, your moirail, and maybe your matesprit! Anyone else might take advantage of the weakness and kill you, that was just basic logic! But Dave didn’t even seem to be thinking about it.

And…and yet, come to think of it, Roxy’d been awfully forthright about how bad Dave’s condition was. Hell, she’d heard it from Rose, who seemed like the one most likely to know not to spread that weakness, but the humans were all sharing it and passing it around. It wasn’t just that they didn’t seem to care who knew that Dave and Dirk were injured, it was like they wanted people to know.

And as he filled up the glass of water in the kitchen, he watched as Roxy and Dirk talked on the couch, as Dirk told her that he’d passed on the news of their condition to Jane already, that Rose had told her and Dave’s friends, and it just kept going. Everyone had to be up to date on the fact that both brothers were injured and vulnerable, and yet…

“I hope the flight wasn’t too long,” Rachel was saying to Ramona.

“Nothing would be too long right now,” she said in turn, blowing gently on a cup of tea that Rachel had just poured her. “Times like these, we all need to do our part. I know I might not be able to do much, mind you. My leg’s been acting up something fierce, as of late, but I’ll do whatever I can.”

Something clicked. All at once, the curtains pulled back and Karkat saw the whole picture—saw maybe not what it always was, and certainly not what the Lalondes achieved on any sort of regular basis, but what it was supposed to be, how it was meant to work.

On Alternia, everyone lived in constant competition. Trolls had to be strong as close to all the time as they possibly could, or at the very least find a moirail who could, because otherwise their society wouldn’t particularly care much if they died. That just meant they didn’t deserve to be a part of the gene pool or to contribute to society. If they were injured badly and left vulnerable, it was seen as normal for others to take advantage of that weakness and exert power or outright kill a rival. It was how they survived so long, or so the cultural narrative had so long stated: by this competition, the strongest survive. Nevermind that this survival was built on the corpses of uncountable trolls who didn’t make the cut, it Worked.

As a result, trolls had been bewildered just as Karkat had by how humans as a species managed to be so frail and yet so reckless and to still survive, especially when they didn’t exactly have the kind of numbers that trolls did. Humans lacked the numbers to be expendable, lacked the strength and toughness that kept Trolls alive, and yet they looked Death in the eye and pointed and laughed, and pushed themselves to extremes for no purpose other than to have some warped idea of fun. It was a question that had lingered around his consciousness for ages; how the fuck do humans even work as a species? How had such a seemingly doomed race not died off yet?

The answer that hit him now, as he watched Roxy help Dirk stand up and balance himself on a pair of crutches, was that humans didn’t have to be strong all the time, and that was the magic of their little social units, their families—they took care of each other. No one person had to be good at everything, or so good at one thing that it could keep them safe in any situation. It didn’t matter that their skin was thin or that they weren’t particularly strong or fast, they always, always had others around who would pick up the slack, others who would come even across oceans to offer what aid they could in times of strife; they weaved together all their strengths and weaknesses into a fabric able to withstand just about anything. Fuck, no wonder they’d wanted Dave back so badly. The Lalondes may have been less a tapestry and more a patchwork quilt, but it was still their quilt, and Dave was a part of it….

He felt a near-agonizing pang of envy that he didn’t have a quilt of his own. Humans might have been stupid about a lot of things, but this…this they’d gotten right.  

“Fucking water? Is that really the best you could think of? Fucking dumbass,” Dave muttered to himself. God. This was stupid. This was all really fucking stupid. He couldn’t even deal with being alone while he was asleep, for Chrissakes! Too scared of nightmares of a big mean dog, like some fuckin’ little kid.

Yeah, he was tired, but he really, really didn’t wanna be alone right now, was the thing. Not with that fucking troll-drug-induced nightmare lingering around the edges, waiting to chase him down again at its first chance. But. Like. Karkat was kind of right? Bros don’t watch each other sleep, that’s fuckin’ creepy. Like. Okay, so maybe they’d done a bit of that way back when Karkat had been kidnapped, but they didn’t have a choice back then, and anyways they mostly slept at the same time during that experience, which was super different from just asking his best alien friend to fuckin’ hold his hand so the  bad dreams wouldn’t get him. Fuck.

So he’d asked Karkat to refill his glass, even though he wasn’t thirsty right now, because it was an excuse to make Karkat come back, at least for a few more minutes, and they could talk for a bit, and maybe Dave’d stop being tired, wouldn’t that be rad.

Karkat came back in looking really thoughtful. He handed the glass over, and Dave took a sip to try and look like he hadn’t been 100% bullshitting there, and mumbled a thanks as he set it down. Then, just as a thought, he jerked his head toward the rest of the bed—it was a big king-sized one, probably left over from before the divorce and Mom had just never downsized or whatever, so there was a lot of space to Dave’s right—and told Karkat he could sit down if he wanted, Dave wasn’t gonna, like, pass out right this minute or anything, haha.

Karkat stayed quiet, which was fuckin’ weird, but he did sit down. He stared at the sheets for a minute, and then spoke up suddenly, saying, “I think I get it.”

“Get what?” said Dave.

“Why they wanted you back so bad,” said Karkat. “I mean, way back when you were first arrested. I kind of fought with Dirk over it at one point, because my only experience with the word Dirk used for why you should be with him was fucking Strider. And also I think I get why this shit all works, for humans in general. I mean, I’m probably just saying obvious shit, but it’s not how trolls work, we don’t take care of each other, not like this.”

Dave tipped his head.

“I mean with the whole fucking family thing,” Karkat said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been trying to get it this whole time, but this shit’s used to justify so much bullshit with you humans, and I think I get it now, and why it’s so fucking important to you as a species.”

Dave snorted. “Dude, it’s not that big a thing—”

“It is, though! It just seems normal to humans because it’s how you always work, but, Dave, I’m serious, back on Alternia it’s every troll for themself. Maybe you  have one person who has your back if you’ve got a moirail, maybe some are lucky like me and have friends who are actually consistently on your side and won’t take the first chance they get to kill you or fuck you up some other way, but we definitely don’t have a whole cluster of others we can just fall back on any time we’re met with something we can’t handle alone.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Dave started, but Karkat just kept going. Apparently he’d had some sort of fuckin’ epiphany in the past two minutes.

“It took me so fucking long to get this, but I get it now! You know what I don’t get, though, is why the fuck you ever tried to convince me that Strider is part of your fucking family.”

Something in Dave dropped like a stone.

He’d…had a similar thought, really. Repeatedly. Multiple times, over the past week or so. He’d been kind of trying to avoid it, because every time it popped up, he got really stressed out.

“And don’t give me any of the bullshit about being ‘related’ or what the fuck ever, I don’t wanna hear it,” Karkat kept right on going. “I still don’t get why you humans care so much about that. The whole point of this family thing is that you all take care of each other, not that you’re related or whatever! Your aunt’s here, did you know that? She flew across an entire fucking ocean just to make sure she could help out you and Dirk! What the fuck did Strider ever do for you?”

It was a good question. And the answer, of course, was: aside from trying to  kill him, do you mean? Hahaha.

Karkat was still talking, but Dave wasn’t really hearing him. Fuck, this had been a mistake, he should’ve taken his chances with the fucking nightmare dog. That was better than this old song and dance with his own thoughts.

The facts were pretty simple. He’d operated under pretty clear logic when he went up against Bro: We’re family, so he loves me, so therefore if I ask him to let me leave and explain that I really can’t deal with this, he’ll let me go. Except, Bro had tried to kill him, which meant that…

That was as far as Dave ever got. He couldn’t think any farther than that.

He felt like…like the next thought should be obvious, but he couldn’t make himself think it. It was too big—not so much a square peg in a round hole as it was trying to cram a grain silo into a pinhole, and the thought threatened to overwhelm and destroy him, so instead of thinking it, his brain kept rejecting it, the effect being like a broken record skip-skip-skipping, over and over, repeating the last thought he could get to before the Big One, because he couldn’t not think the Big One, either…

It was so fucking stupid, it was just a thought, why couldn’t he…

“Hah, yeah, now that you mention it, I guess I was always kinda wrong about this shit, wasn’t I?” Dave said, unable to stop the sardonic laughter bubbling up in his throat. “I mean, fuck, no wonder it took you so long to get, I probably gave you the wrong idea. My dumb ass was convinced he’d never try to kill me, cuz we’re family, and, well, here we fuckin’ are!”

Skip, skip, skip—

Karkat was still talking in stuttered phrases in the gaps of Dave’s own flood of words, looking almost scared, but Dave didn’t comprehned any of them, and anyway, the ranting had started, there was no stopping this shit now. “Like, what the fuck was I even thinking, right? I really thought that was gonna work, that somehow he’d just let me go if I asked, like a fucking idiot! Haha, what a fuckin’ dipshit, right?! And here I was thinking he—” Frantic laughter bubbled up, overtaking the words, not that more would’ve come, that next thought was just too big. Was he crying? Fuck, Karkat didn’t need to see any of this shit, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t think

Skip, skip, skip, skip, skipskipskipskipskipskip—

It wasn’t Karkat’s fault. It really wasn’t. He might’ve set it off, but the storm had been building up for days, now, and it broke hard, sweeping Dave up in a torrent of just wordless mental screaming. He couldn’t think the next thought. He couldn’t. But the thing was damming him up, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore, and he was stuck in the middle and left to just completely melt down and dissipate into the flood.

A sound like a cicada crossed with the creakiest horror movie door ever to creak ripped through the tides, and suddenly Dave found himself tugged into a full body hug, wrapped up in four limbs with his face pressed into a thick sweater. The touch dragged him out of the flood and onto dry land, brought him back into now before he even knew what was happening. Karkat’s whole chest was vibrating with some intense cricket-cat hybrid purr, and this should’ve been so embarrassing but he was so tired and so lost and it was fucking comforting, so who the fuck cared. Who cared anymore. It was all bullshit. He could be embarrassed later.

Too soon, Karkat seemed to have the same thought, and tried to pull away. “Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t—fuck, I’m so sorry, this is really presumptive and I know you aren’t even into boys,” he babbled.

Dave groaned, wrapping his arms around Karkat’s chest and pulling him close. “Dude, if you try to make this about alien romance right now, I swear to fuck,” he gasped out between harsh sobs. Christ, he was going harder than Karkat did like twenty minutes earlier, what the fuck.

Karkat paused. Good. It meant his warm arms were still there. “Dave, I…I mean, this is troll romance, this is textbook moiraillegience, and I shouldn’t just be throwing myself at you because you had a moment of weakness, no matter how bad I, uh.”

Dave sniffled, wracked his brain for a moment…Karkat had explained this stuff about a million times, which one was…”That’s like…the bros quadrant, right?”

“The what.”

“The one that’s, like, platonic and shit.”

“…Yeah?” The cricket-purr started up again, cautiously.

“We fuckin’ kinda do most of that shit already, don’t we?” Like. Yeah. He wasn’t gay. That was still a thing. But Karkat was warm and solid and real and Dave was fucking exhausted and didn’t want to be alone, especially not when he felt right now like he was wrapped in safety. “Please, Karkat,” he added, because why not beg. He was already at maximum pathetic, there was no digging this hole lower, fuck it. “I really don’t wanna be alone right now, just, please don’t go.”

Karkat was quiet for a long moment, but finally, the cricket-purr went back to full volume and Karkat’s arms tightened around him.

“Okay,” Karkat said quietly. Dave let out a breath he’d barely known he’d been holding and went back to crying.

“We’re going to have to talk about this later,” Karkat murmured, which put him at about normal volume for anyone else.

“Later, then,” said Dave, and let himself finally fall the fuck asleep.

#dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #roxy lalonde #longpost// #u BET UR BUTT THIS OENS GOIN IN THE DAVEKAT TAG #ITS ABOUT TIME #fanfic #fanfiction #calmvsstormfic #calmvsstormchapter #katt does a writing #jkdfsgfjhsfjshf not the best start to a relationship but like its something #lord this got long. #why tf did i think 32 and 33 would ever fit into one chapter.