Current mood: in desperate need of gvf mutals š„²š„² I canāt help but feel envy when I see yāall being besties :( And I canāt convince my friends to like the boys so Iām left alone fangirling my brains out š
(No hate or anything I love to see everyone supporting and loving each other ā¤ļøāš„)
Anyways enjoy this heavily edited sketch of Jake š¹
I have 3 AUs for Clegan in my notes app atm, all 3 only has that part done that came to me during my daydreaming sessions lol
I donāt know how all the talented people here and on ao3 are doing the whole writing process, I feel stuck and I want to finish at least one of them but Iām like unable to put my thoughts into words.
Iām gonna go berserk.
Real
Release me from this torment
Of course itās Jack š
That poor man canāt catch a break from the Air Force Yaoi šš
Mind Reading AU
I would love to read a story where someone from the 100th - Kidd? Crank? - acquires the ability to hear what everyone else is thinking around him. He thinks listening to Crosby's nervous internal monologue is bad, but then John and Gale walk in, and he knows heās going to lose his mind within hours if they donāt find a solution.
And it's not because of John.
No, John pretty much says what he's thinking with barely any filter or internal struggle. But Gale... it's a constant litany of filthy-loving-needy-guilty-self-tormenting thoughts stumbling over each other. He reaches for his toothpicks with perfect poker face while imagining kissing Bucky within an inch of his life. He stands looking mildly amused at Bucky elbowing him, but his mind is like white noise from desire. Then he despairs when Bucky leaves even though nothing shows in his expression.
Why must life torment me like this? š„²
Iām cackling. How we all collectively agreed that Oliver is daddy š I love that for us āØā¤ļøāš„
I meanā¦. Weāre right soooo š just look at him š„µ
Ig: @joshkiszkasjeeptruck
Thereās one near the Omni center in front of the Gayfield park on elm row, I donāt know what type of stuff they have or the prices but it looks cool from the outside
(I donāt know if you guys are located in Edinburgh but I know of this place so šš¼šš¼)
Iāll add a screenshot from google maps
Dude. Wait.
Iām gonna be in Scotland in April with some friends of mine. Do you know of any good spots for vinyl hunting? Weāre gonna be all over the place š
omg honestly im not 100% sure, ive not went vinyl shopping in like the big cities here before but i mean whatever places u visit id just look up what shops are near n hopefully u can score something decent im sorry i couldnt be of more help
āš¼
Cliquetober Day 29 - Car
Hello lovely people, Iāve been working on a little cleagan project for a while and I wanted to share the first chapter, hope yāall enjoy!!! ^ā¢^
Itās also on ao3:
John was dying, he was shot and now heās dying on his horse whoās independently prowls up a path on a mountain heās not familiar with. Heās slumped over his mareās neck mumbling to himself in and out of consciousness.
You see it was supposed to be an easy job, get the information from his trusty inside man (Rosie) at the stagecoach station, stake out the carriage with the rich folks in it, ambush the carriage take everything they got and ride into the sunset, see easy!
Maybe thatās why everything went haywire. Heād done this so many times without complications that he threw every caution in the wind. But sooner than later he realized his mistake in a form of a personal guard at the driverās box.
He stopped the carriage without a hiccup thatās the easiest part anyways. He pulled his bandanna up his nose and his hat real low. He rode out from the trees to the dirt road, pistol in his right, double barrel shotgun in the left hand firing them once-twice raising hell.
Oh the screams, the frightened shrieks were music to his ears. They meant the passengers will give anything for their lives.
But his happiness was short lived as a bullet pierced through the air and flew past his ear. The armed guard started to fire at him like hell, earning the money the rich bastards were paying him and after today John was sure he got a fat bonus too!
He quickly got off his horse and dodged behind a boulder frowning in surprise, listening where the guard might be and the gunslinging began.
****
The driver was dead, John shot him dead in the left eye. He tried to intervene but he was just in the way and got in the field of bullets. John killed too many people to count. Thatās just the way he lives. He never claimed to be a good man alright? But that doesnāt mean he enjoys killing, there was a time when he did, a long-long time ago. He left those days in the back of his mind, now he only kills when he has to, but most of his robberies claim lives, someone always ends up dead.
Heās an outlaw goddamnit, thatās what heās good at. What he likes and what he has to do to survive are two different things.
He doesnāt have too much time to dwell on moral issues though heās still being shot at. John thought, finally his luck is turning and heāll win this duel as well when he started to hear shouting and hoof beating the ground in the distance.
Lawman.
Even in a location so remote someone somehow alerted the sheriff. John only had a moment to process the news before bullets started to fly around him. The situation is dire he knows that, he whistles for his horse who comes crashing out of the woods and he makes a break for it.
Heās running like the wind when he feels it. Cold metal piercing his skin needling a way through muscles and tendons in his right shoulder. The second one comes from ahead hitting him on the left side of his abdomen, but it doesnāt feel like it went all the way through, although itās not like John can feel much with the adrenaline running through his veins.
He canāt spare too much attention to his wounds as he still has to get away if he wants to stay alive. He runs to his horse grabs the horn of his saddle, hoist himself up with the stirrup and gallops away as fast and as far as he can.
Heād never been shot, John was always clever with his moves, always had Fortuna on his side. Itās not like how he imagined, itās not immediate red-hot pain flaming his body ablaze flooding into his mind making room saying āIām here and youāll be sufferingā. Itās creeping up on him, slowly making his way into his consciousness like sand in an hourglass.
For a good ten minutes as he tries to lose the lawman glued to his heels he can only feel a dull ache. Another ten minutes pass on and he successfully shakes off the blood thirsty man and slows his horse down to a trot. And as his heartbeat stabilizes the pain starts to increase, so much so that he had to halt his horse to catch his breath.
He took a moment to get himself under wraps and inspected the wounds.
His shoulder was relatively in a good shape as much as a gunshot wound can be. But his abdomen was another tale. He unbuttoned his vest then lifted his shirt and ripped his long-johns apart, he gagged at the sight.
Already bruised in angry shades of purple and blue, blood flowing everywhere from such a tiny hole. John tried to apply pressure on it but the pain was too great, he got lightheaded and threw up that small amount of food he had in his stomach. He had to get help fast or heās a goner.
He tried to remember if there was a town nearby but the blood loss was making him dazed and confused. Soon after that he passed out and woke up in the woods on his horseās back then passed out again.
And thatās how he ended up in the middle of the mountain he was not familiar with in and out of consciousness.
****
John was slowly coming to himself as he feels his horse piking up speed. He tilts his head up to see a little homestead built with logs nested between tall trees and evergreens, a sight he would sure marvel if he were in a better shape. John tries to stay awake until his horse makes the distance to the porch of the home but his brain is too foggy.
He hears a gasp coming from afar and legs hitting the ground in a rapid pattern. John wants to sit up to see who his savior might be but heās too weak and slips off his saddle onto the ground. He gets startled awake again by someone dropping to their knees next to him and brushing the hair out of his face. Cold fingers turn his head toward the sun and he opens his eyes.
The person in front of John is a woman, a woman whose face is so blurry. Blurry because John canāt keep his eyes open. But as he forces himself to focus he becomes aware that the person is in fact not a woman but a young man with such soft edges and features that he has to be unreal.
John is so delirious from the blood loss that he thinks heās seeing one of Godās angels. Although he doesnāt understand why would he go to heaven after all the things he has done. He wants to, no scratch that ,he needs to touch this angel of death with the soft looking golden hair and smooth sun tanned skin. He knows if he could just only caress the pad of his finger down this angelās face he could take away all of his sins and he can die in peace.
He reaches out to hold his personal angelās cheek, but before he can touch him everything goes back to black.
Big thanks for @paulainchains for the likes, I really appreciate it and I love your posts ā¤ļøā¤ļø
Another edit of Kork š«¶š¼
I just really like this concept tbh š Iāll maybe do some more š«¢
We shouldnāt be scared to be ourselves but we are. Just because society is fucked up and weāre stuck in the most judgmental world
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