#Aunt Tilly too

[majoresca]

How do you imagine King Roland I, would be like as a grandfather?

[a-lilac-lyric]

Vote for who you think would be most likely to die for narrative reasons!

[totaly-obsessed]

hiii! i love ur work so much!!!! i was wondering if i can request a kcc fic where she gets jealous hehehehehehe

Favorites

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Kyra finds out that she is not the favorite aunt or girlfriend

-> Hope you like it Anon, even though you probably meant a different jealousy haha

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The national break was always a welcome break from the daily club life, even if the World Cup was not that long ago. You had arrived together with the other Matilda’s that played in England. The plane journey was a long one, but one most of you were accustomed to by now.

Your plan for it? Sleeping. As much as you could. Trainers and mostly everybody you knew tried to tell you that it was bad, but you didn’t really listen – the want to sleep much too big.

Sam, your club teammate sat next to you, anxiously chewing her nails for most of the trip as she was one of the worst fliers you knew. Your captain was always thankful to sit next to you, as you calmed her down with your deep sleep and not a care in the world.

The two seats across from you were occupied by Mary and Kyra who were playing cards, bored out of their minds. Eventually, it was the new Arsenal signing who kicked your feet to wake you. “Huh? Are we there yet?” The two started laughing at your startled face and at how fast you had sat up in your seat. “No, still a while out. You’re playing cards with us.”

It wasn’t a question, Kyra knew that you would just roll your eyes and close them again, desperate for sleep. But she also knew that even you couldn’t resist her puppy eyes, so she batted her lashes at you, knowing that you would cave in.

The two of you had been dating for over a year now. Her joining Arsenal had been the best thing ever – you finally moved in together, which was quite hard with the midfielder playing in Sweden before. Even with the both of you on rival London teams, it was the best thing ever.

When in public Kyra might seem like the excited, touchy one when in private it was you who would simply refuse to let the brunette go, cuddling as close to her as you could. So whipped as you are, you played cards with them and even managed to get Sam to play as well.

“Man, I can’t wait to see Harps again. She grows so quickly.” This has been Kyra’s first time being away for such a long time from the toddler since meeting her. The two-year-old quickly found her way into all the Matilda’s hearts, helping the team relax after a long day, her gleeful giggles sounding through the halls of the facility. “Me neither, maybe she finally decides to be a striker.” Sam was back to consciousness, always happy to talk about the youngest team member – also distracting herself from flying. None of you could help but laugh, knowing that if little Harper decided to be a footballer one day, she would follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a midfielder.

The rest of the journey was long and hard, you were just happy to have Kyra at your side, knowing that you didn’t need to talk, the brunette filling the silence all by herself.

When the group of you arrived at the team hotel it was already late in the day but most of the Tillies that roamed the halls were excited to see each other again after a very successful World Cup. “Auntie Y/N!” A small body made its way through the sea of players, crashing into your open arms as you couched down, ready to hug her. “Harps!” Giggles filled the room as you threw her up in the air and caught her again.

You could feel Katrina’s watchful eyes on you but the short midfielder was never worried when Harper was with you. With Charlie and Kyra? Panic. But once you joined them? Everything was alright. It wasn’t like you were more mature, but the way you carried yourself; serious and careful when needed but you also knew how to have fun – the perfect combination.

“Harper look, Kyra’s here too!” Your girlfriend tried to get the girl's attention but she was much too busy playing with your hair, telling you the story of how her favorite stuffy had found its way to Australia. “Babe, I’ll go make out with Charls, yeah?” When you didn’t even react, the midfielder scoffed offended.

She just got replaced by a two-year-old.

Kyra didn’t know who she envied more. You for being Harper's favorite auntie, or Harper for having all your attention when in the same room.

Once back on the ground, the toddler grabbed your hand, swiftly pulling you out to a field, commanding you to grab a ball. The rest of the Matildas watched in awe as their very stoic teammate turned to mush once the tiny blonde shouted “Again!” signaling you to roll the ball to her so that she could kick it back.

“My girlfriend just got stolen.” The young Arsenal player’s mouth was wide open as Harper took you from her, in broad daylight. Harper kept pulling you out on the field further and further until you couldn’t hear the teasing anymore – not that you paid it any mind.

“Kyra just got replaced!” It was Mackenzie who started joking at their young teammate's expanse. “I still have an open room, should harper take your bed as well!” But it was Caitlin who caused the brunette to whine in defeat.

Katrina knew that you were up to no good when she saw you crouched on the floor, telling Harper something while pointing at the rest of the Matilda’s at the side of the pitch – a devious smile on your face.

Just a few short moments her daughter ran towards them, as fast as she could, arms wide open an excited smile on her face. “Auntie!” Kyra had now crouched down as well, copying your previous action, opening her arms as the small blonde raced directly toward her.

“C’mere Harps!” But Harper had a different plan, throwing herself on the ground as she army-crawled through the midfielder's legs – jumping into Alanna’s strong arms, who stood directly behind Kyra. The crowd erupted in laughter, as you made your way back to them, a sly smirk still on your lips, seeing your girlfriend's very prominent pout as Sam patted her back. “Not the favorite girlfriend, not the favorite aunt – Man, that’s gotta hurt."

[futfemfantasies]

failed \\ sam kerr x reader

TW: injury (the dreaded 3 letters), fluff

2023 World Cup. Home soil. Co-captain with the love of your life. Playing in your hometown Stadium is one thing but playing a World Cup there? It's a whole other dream come true.

Sitting next to Sam, your knee is bouncing uncontrollably. She put her hand on your thigh and gives it a light squeeze, silently asking if you're okay. You nod and plant a soft kiss on her cheek. The starting lineup including you and Sam start to walk out to meet your mascots. You look around and everyone has theirs except you. A small tap on your thigh forces you to look down at your mascot. It’s none other than your mini me aka your niece Athena. You pick up the smiling and now excited to-year-old and kiss her squishy, chubby cheeks.

"You win Aunt y/n/n?"

"Not yet princess, Aunt Sammy has to score some goals first"

Sam turns around before giving your your niece multiple kisses.

You nudge Sam to start walking out and the roaring of the fans brought a wide smile to your face. Lining up, Athena starts bouncing on your hip in excitement. After the national anthem, you give Athena back to your sister and start to get prepped for the game. Your job back to the team just in time to hear Sam's pep talk.

"1...2...3... TILLIES!"

You and Sam do your quick handshake before you jog to midfield alongside Katrina and Kyra. The whistle starts and the battle for third place begins. Sweden have come in strong but you and your midfield trio have held your own. So far, Rolfö and Asilani have been targeting you and every time you get up, Sam looks more pissed than before. Around 30 minutes into the second half is where things went wrong. Recovering the ball from Stina was fine, it was the popping sound in your left knee that wasn't.

Screaming as you went down immediately saw the ref blow her whistle. Medics rushed to you, only for Sam to beat them. Same place your head in her lap as the medics touched around the rapidly swelling area.

"Even if it is what we think, I'll be there every step of the way"

Sam helped you off the field, with a standing ovation from the crowd and players. Sam turns back to the game and stomps over to Stina.

"What the fuck is your problem huh? She's injured because of you. You injured your teammates and the best midfielder in the game! I hope you're happy with yourself"

Stina looks visibly scared and your teammates push Sam away before she got herself carded. Sam made at her personal mission to win this game for you, even if that meant doing a few extra slide tackles and shoulder pushes. The final whistle blows after extra time and Sam is speechless. You watch on the small tv as Sam is in full blown tears and the medic said you can go out to the field.

Hopping down the hallways, you see the familiar entryway to the field. Taking your time, you finally get to the grass and you start looking for your short ponytailed beauty. Stina notices you looking around and decides to quickly apologise before Sam scares her off again. The poor girl was on the verge of tears until you reassured her it was nothing she did. You lock eyes with Sam and said your goodbyes to Stina.

You both meet halfway and Sam pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck. Crutches dropped to the floor, you gave back and even tighter hug as you hear what Sam's mumbling.

"Hey, look at me"

You almost whisper, holding Sam's face in your hands.

"You gave it your all and that's what matters. I love you through all the wins, losses, draws, fourth places. We've done this country so proud okay?"

Sam looks down at your knee and nods slowly.

"I love you too, I'll be here through it all. I'll take some personal leave"

You argue back-and-forth but decided she can take two weeks off. Sam turns around and squats down a little picking up the crutches.

"Jump on. I think there's some fans that want to say thank you to their hometown hero"

You roll your eyes and hop on the slightly older girls back.

You see your teammates first before doing a lap of honour. Right at the end, Sam stops just before a little boy with your jersey on. You direct Sam over and hop down, still leaning on Sam.

"Hey buddy, cool jersey you have on there"

"Y-you my favourite. I wanna be you when I’m older"

You pout at the cuteness at the boy who couldn't be older than 4. You decide in the moment to give the boy your jersey. You take it off and someone gives you a marker. You write a sweet message on it before giving it to him. His mum asked for a photo and of course you say yes. The boy thanks you numerous times and you give him a hug before leaving.

Sam comes back and put a jacket on you before carrying you to the locker room. She said she down at your cubby, which is next to hers, and gives you a look.

"i'm fine babe, really. Are you okay?"

Sam shrugs her shoulders and looks at you.

"I dunno. I wanted to win for you and I failed"

Sam hangs her head, looking at her boots. She hold back tears and you scoot closer to her the best you can.

"You didn't fail me baby. Every game you play for a club or country makes me so unbelievably proud of you. You can never fail in my eyes Sam"

Without warning, Sam pulled you into a bruising kiss, with your teammates wolf whistling and fake gagging.

"Marry me?"

Sam whispers as your foreheads touch.

"A million times yes my love"

“Now let’s get that knee better Mrs Kerr”

“MRS KERR?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by samanthakerr20, stephcatley, leahwilliamson and 89,064 others

ynyln: 19.08.23 ✨ the worst day became the best ✨ can’t wait to do life with you 🥺😍

view all 42,689 comments…

stephcatley: she’s growing up!! Happy for you boo xx

↪️ ynyln: ❤️❤️ love you my steffy

samanthakerr20: Mrs Kerr has a nice ring to it I think 😉

↪️ ynyln: 🙄🙄🙄

leahwilliamson: big sis is getting married!! I’m so happy for you 😁 love you always xx

↪️ ynyln: 🥺 lil sis, love you xx

[redpensandgreenarrows]

Wait... I just had a thought...

Care for some Sophie Beckett speculation?

I've seen some posts on Threads where people are speculating that the maid we get a glimpse of at the Cowper residence - the who Cressida asks for help from - might be Sophie. I couldn't remember who they were talking about, so I'm currently rewatching episodes 7 & 8. (Episode 7 is where we see the maid.)

And not to quash anyone's theories, because this truly is all just speculation, but the maid's performance just doesn't scream Sophie to me. In my mind I'd expect more timidness, stiffer, stilted speech, a more unhappy look on her face, and possibly a gaunt countenance. Maybe even fear or wariness the second Cressida asked her for help. Idk, I just don't think that was her.

BUT! Now I'm on epsiode 8, and just got to the part where we meet the Aunt come to take Cressida away to the countryside. And simply by her tone, remarks, and countenance we know this woman is a BITCH. Cressida's mother (remember, who is named Araminta) even remarks that she forgot how horrible a woman this aunt is. SO, what if the "Araminta from the books" character is kind of split into two: Araminta Cowper & this Aunt.

Sophie is still a bastard, Lord Cowper is her father, and he's pawned her off on his sister - the Aunt - to live out in the country where he doesn't have to deal/see her. Both Araminta & the Aunt know who Sophie really is and both hate her, but we need someone doling out some truly horrible treatment and that could fit the Aunt's personality.

This also gives Cressida more storyline, because truthfully I wasn't sure how they were going to bring Cressida back in after this season. BUT having Sophie at the Aunt's house gives Cressida plot out in the country that can also loop in Benedict & the Bridgerton's since this is obviously their stories. And as we all know, there is Benedict/Sophie plot out involving the countryside, so that helps too.

Idk, this all literally just popped into my head and now I'm word-vomiting it here. Anyone else see the plausibility? Thoughts?

Tagging some people, but anyone is free to comment! >> @silverhallow @tilly-tilly-2827 @sophiamariabeckett @queen-of-the-misfit-toys

[wizard-on-whales]

Modern AU! for rdr2 characters

These are my headcannons for each character and what I think they would do in modern times.

Characters included: Arthur, Micah, Dutch, John, Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly, Sadie, Strauss, Charles, Susan, Bill, Lenny, Hosea, Sean, Molly, Javier, Swanson

_______________________________

Arthur Morgan: 

He works a blue-collar job. He would most likely be a ranch hand, but for some reason, I can also imagine him being a plumber or welder. In his free time, he does art and sells prints on Etsy. He is still an old-fashioned gentleman (In a good way), and all of the ladies he meets swoon for him, but he is a himbo and doesn't realize they are practically in love with him. They will give him the most obvious hints, but he will think the women are just being nice. 

Micah Bell:

He's the creepy uncle that you avoid at every family gathering. He hasn't had a job in like 15 years, and no one knows how he can still pay his bills. And he also always smells like lingering alcohol and cigarettes. He will lean too close to his nieces and say extremely concerning things everyone would choose to ignore. Im also getting the vibes that he went to prison for several years, but no one knows what for.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

He sells people scams or owns a pyramid scheme business. Similar to Scentsy products, he somehow convinces all of these people to buy his products to sell to other people, telling them they will get rich by selling these products, but, in reality, he's screwing them over and making most of the money himself. 

John Marston: 

If we are talking about early Red Dead 2 Marston, he still lives in his parent's basement and plays video games on his PC all day. He also watches Andrew Tate and would try to boss Abigail around and tell her he's an alpha male. (She'd slap him and tell him to get over himself) Late rdr2 and rdr1, he's grown out of that mindset and has become a working family man. Potentially also a welder, like I said for Arthur. But any high-paying physical job works.  

I feel like Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, and Tilly would all have a mom group they host every week to discuss their child's newest achievements. Their husbands think that is all they do at the meetings, but they also have in-depth conversations about women's suffrage and how the world caters to men. They think of ways to better the world and bring more women together to discuss these topics and bring light to issues regarding women. The girls would run a pretty popular Facebook group where they let other women express their opinions on those topics. (Arthur is a part of the Facebook group and likes every post he sees and comments shit like, “You're doing great, ladies! Keep up the good work! 😁🥰👍”) 

Sadie would probably occasionally attend these meetings (Although I dont see her having children, she would go for the cheap wine and to hang with her friends). Sadie would also go for the in-depth conversations and bring new thoughts to the table because she is a CEO or manager for a very successful company. She would share her experiences of what it's like to be on top of the men who work for her but still be looked down upon by them simply because of her gender. She would also probably share tips on that Facebook page on how to create a successful business without having to attend years of college and give tips for all stay-at-home moms who want to be more than just moms and wives. (She would also be the cool rich aunt)

Leopold Strauss: 

He would do the same thing. He gives loans to people who he knows won't be able to pay back the money, and then when the bill comes, he'd ruin their lives and probably end up breaking up families/ relationships and send people to jail for not paying back the money in time. 

Charles Smith:

I can see him being a park ranger or working in any conservation field. Potentially even a firefighter who deals with all of the forest fires that happen in places along the West Coast. He’d also be one to do something similar to what he did in the game, but he would work with the local native tribes against companies to try to win back their lands before it gets plowed over for an Amazon factory or something. 

Susan Grimshaw:

I can see her being the mean substitute teacher who yells at everyone to get to work, and then when someone does something slightly wrong, she would yell at the whole class and be like, “In all of my years of teaching, I have never seen a class behave this badly.” Either that or she would work at the front desk of the business Sadie runs. Miss Grimshaw would NOT play with anyone who would try to be rude towards her. 

Bill Williamson: 

Ehem…a police officer. I feel like this one is self-explanatory. But he would mostly sit in his car and do nothing his entire shift. Occasionally pulling someone over for speeding. If they are a white dude, he'd would let them off with just a warning. Poor Lenny would probably get the ticket. 

Lenny Summers: 

I feel like he would be the one to graduate high school early and go to college as soon as possible. I dont know exactly what he would choose for his degree, but I feel like it would be something involving politics. Maybe that wouldn't be his major, but he would take a government class. Or Potentially going into journaling. 

Hosea Matthews:

He's the retired grandpa who used to work in a factory where he made a surprising amount of money and was able to retire early. He spends most of his days walking up at 5 in the morning to watch the sunrise and read the morning paper. And he’ll spend every opportunity he gets to take his kids or grandkids fishing. And if you stay at his house overnight or for the weekend, he gives you a bowl of ice cream every night before bed and recounts every story he could think of that happened from the last time you saw him. (Some of them are surprisingly concerning, but he is one of those badass grandpas)

Sean Macguire:

Similar to John, Sean would spend most of his time gaming on his PC and arguing with children on COD or Fortnite. But he also works at a local bar as the bartender and won't hesitate to argue with the drunk assholes and would slap a bitch if needed. But he also embarrasses himself by flirting with women who will give him dirty looks or tell him that they are gay. (I feel like Karen would also work late-night shifts at the bar with him, but shes also taking online college classes because she wants to be a social worker) 

Molly O’Shea:

Instagram and TikTok influencer 100%, and lots of brands like to sponsor her and send her free stuff (Mostly because of Dutch’s business.) and she posts videos of her and Dutch, and everyone in the comments freaks out about how he is grooming her because of their age difference but she denies it all and says that they are actually in love.  But then she would post a video to that one sound, “My god this reminds me of when we were young.” And Molly be like 8, and Dutch be in his mid-to-late 20s. 

Javier Escuella: 

He’d be a musician. He would have started out in a shitty garage band with Sean and John or something, but then he’d realize he actually wants to be a serious musician while the other guys were just messing around. So he’d leave and make solo music that blows up, and he ends up going on tour, and making a lot of money and becoming hugely successful. 

Reverend Swanson:

The preacher you always see in the corner of the bar Sean works at. And if you went up to him and started talking to him, he’d tell you the most profound things. He would tell you about his life when he was younger and what happened that made him lose hope, but he would motivate you to never give up. He’d be that person you meet by chance for a few seconds that you would never forget. Hosea probably invites him to go fishing with him from time to time. But instead of fishing, Swanson stares at the water ripples in silence. Hosea would let him sit in silence and let Swanson enjoy the company and the time to think while being sober. 

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

[esotericas-sims]

Manon Yvaine de Falstaff, 1789.

"It is the unique gift of the orphan: freedom from the burden of a family legacy. It is also their unique misery. The maintenance of a legacy is a laborious task. The creation of one has been known to drive men mad."

– M.F.

Chapter One

My name is Manon Yvaine de Falstaff. You have not heard of me.

By the time this book is published, I am either dead or as-good-as. This is by design. It is only with the knowledge that I will not live to suffer the consequences of my actions, that I can report them truly and honestly here.

There is a general narrative convention that a story starts at the beginning. I see no reason to break this pattern.

My story begins in France, 1785. I was born in blood and tears and disappointment. My parents were Conrad and Mathilde de Falstaff, Baron and Baronne of ----- (a vanity title, gifted to them by the King as reward for my father's friendship. We had no money, and no land.) My parents despised one another; Conrad, for his wife's inability to bear sons, and Mathilde, for her husband's inability to remain faithful. It was a marriage of equals, in terms of hatred.

They were divorced not long after I was born - Failure to produce a male heir - Four girls was four too many, and Ophelie and I were twins. It was more than my father could tolerate.

I was born last. I took pride, for some years, in being the straw that broke the camel's back. I learned in later years that the divorce was my mother's idea, not my father's. I can not blame her for wanting an escape, though my sisters resented her for abandoning us to him.

Neither of them, as far as I know, ever took credit for giving me my name. There is a significance to that, I think. A name is an important thing, and mine purports to be handed down from God himself.

Manon... a nickname, I was born Marie, though I have never once been called by that. It is a name I have always felt to be fateful, an act of God, determining my path. My mother could not have known about Mary, who I would meet many years after I left France, but perhaps the all-seeing eyes of the heavens observed our crossing-of-paths. Who's to say?

Yvaine... "North Star." The kinder of my elder sisters, Mathilde Junior - though we all called her Tilly - claimed it was my mother's choice, a reference to my odd appearance - shockingly white hair, and icy skin. The other, Emelie, insisted my father had meant to call me Yvonne, for my resemblance to our hideous aunt.

All these matters of fate and God and names were far from my mind as I grew, however. I was concerned almost entirely with my father, and my relentless pursuit of his love.

It was a game we played, the battle for affection. He praised me when I was clever, but scorned me when I won an argument. He played dolls with me only when my toys were soldiers, politicians, or clergymen. I begged to attend his meetings, balls, and dinner parties. Of all his children, there was no denying I took after him the most. It is one of the greatest shames of my life. For those golden years, however, I chased after him with the undying devotion known only to children. It did not last long, though. Change was coming.

previous | next latest | chronological

[waiting-for-motivation]

the grizzly mountains

summary: After helping Jack build a snowman, (Y/n) sneaks off with her beloved mexican outlaw.

pairings: Javier Escuella x Reader, Jack Marston

warnings: fluff, kissing, making out

words: 917

a/n: Hope you enjoy this fic of sweet boi Javi <33

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

With the blizzard finally gone, the camp is starting to come back to life. Arthur and Charles left this morning to go hunting. Some outlaws warm up at the campfire, while others follow their daily routines. Jack laughs at the sight of his favorite aunt. (Y/n) greets him with a tight hug, even lifting the boy and spinning him around. She would love to join the men on their hunting trips or patrol, but she also knows that the camp needs her here, that Jack needs her. He needs some distraction from his injured father.

“I‘ve got something for you, kid“, (Y/n) says with excitement in her voice. Reaching underneath her poncho, she shows Jack a carrot as well as a scarf. “Stole this one from Pearson, and the scarf from Dutch. This is our little secret, Jack“, she explains with a wide smile. “And I borrowed uncle Arthurs hat!“ Jack claps his hands happily as (Y/n) places the hat on top of his messy hair.

“Let‘s build a snowman, auntie“, Jack exclaims and starts rolling a snowball until it’s big enough. With his aunts help, he places two other snowballs on top. (Y/n) lifts the boy, so that Jack can give the snowman a face with Pearson’s carrot as well as a few stones. They place Dutch’s scarf around its neck and Arthur’s hat on top of its head. “He looks like one of us!“

As they continue to finalize their outlaw snowman with stones and sticks, Javier returns from patrol on his horse. He is halfway frozen to death, but the sight of his beloved (Y/n) warms his heart. With a smile on his lips, Javier takes care of Boaz, removing saddle and bridle. His back is facing the camp, so he doesn‘t notice the snowball fight between most of the girls. Tilly started it, hitting the back of (Y/n)’s head. The snowball fight quickly escalates. Jack loves every second of it, forgetting about his sad mother and injured father.

A scream reaches Javier’s ears. His worry for the whole camp causes him to turn around. Unfortunately, a snowball hits him right in the face. His eyes stay closed for a few seconds, until he wipes away the cold snow, staring right at (Y/n). She presses her lips together in a line. Then she starts laughing and runs away. Without thinking twice, Javier follows her and quickly catches up with her. Around the corner of a hut, he grabs (Y/n) by the waist and presses her against the wall.

“Got you, querida“, Javier whispers against her ear. He places a quick kiss to her cheek, soft giggles leave her mouth. One of his gloved hands caresses the spot on her cheek he just kissed. Their eyes meet and Javier can feel his whole body warm up. “Did you get in trouble whilst I was gone?“ (Y/n) shakes her head with a laugh and leans forward to meet Javier’s cold lips. Although she is the one pressed against the back of the hut, (Y/n) deepens the kiss and places her hands on Javier’s neck. The outlaw groans. (beloved)

“One second, querida“, Javier mumbles into the kiss and, reluctantly, takes a step backwards. He moves his left hand to his mouth, removing his glove with his teeth. Javier takes her in, noticing one of his ponchos on her. A grin forms on his lips as he touches the soft material. Then his cold fingers move to her cheek before his lips return to hers. Javier presses himself as close as possible against his love, letting his gloveless hand move from (Y/n)’s cheek to the poncho she stole from him and underneath her jacket. A gasp leaves (Y/n)’s lips, therefor Javier bites her lower lip.

“It‘s too cold, Javi“, (Y/n) whimpers as Javier’s cold fingers caress her naked skin. Her whole body starts to shiver, and she leans her head against the wall, breaking their kiss. Javier takes his chance and starts kissing her neck.

“I can think of a few things to keep you warm, bonita“, Javier says in a flirty tone, winking at (Y/n) with a wide smile. His lips meet hers once again, but their make out session gets interrupted by someone calling for (Y/n). Both sigh in disappointment, eventually part and take a look around the corner. (Y/n) winces as she lays eyes on Dutch, Arthur and Pearson, all reunited with the stuff she stole. Arthur kneels in front of Jack who is pointing directly at Javier and (Y/n). (beautiful)

“What have you done?“, Javier asks as he meets Dutch’s disappointed eyes. The three outlaws make their way towards the couple. The snow scrunches underneath their heavy boots. (Y/n) laughs full of distress, takes Javier’s hand and drags him away. “What have you done, querida?“

After running through the whole camp and causing some chaos, they finally hide behind the makeshift stables. They can see their breath in the cold air. “I might have stolen a few things for Jacks outlaw snowman“, (Y/n) admits while breathing heavily. She leans against Javier, who has an arm wrapped around her waist. He places a kiss on her forehead.

“You have no idea how much I love you. Tú eres perfecto, bonita!“, Javier confesses and presses (Y/n) closer to his chest. Her arms wrap around him, and she hides her face in his poncho. (You are perfect, beautiful!)

“Te amo, Javi!“, (Y/n) breathes with the sweetest accent Javier ever heard. (I love you, Javi!)

[the-lonelyshepherd]

tell me abt your OCs please🙏 including the horses you draw them so prettyyy

HIII HI HI

gonna do a simple overview of main two and their horses for now

evelyn sinead “shay” murphy

first (and a half?) generation american. her father immigrated from ireland and her mother’s parents from ireland and england.

youngest sibling of five daughters. all the others are already adults and out of the house, she’s 17/18 range.

her family started out poor, only recently got pretty wealthy

personality wise she’s very silly - kinda excitable, talkative but in a very nervous energy type of way. like a chihuahua or something. she kinda spaces out a lot or is off in her own world and jumps from thing to thing really fast without a lot of regard for others (not on purpose, she just doesn’t notice). overall she just really wants to be wanted - she’d bleed for anyone if they held her the right way.

fun fact: she likes fishing

othello - shay’s horse

when shay was younger her whole family had two horses between the seven of them. after their recently accumulated wealth, she gets her own - a top of the line tenessee walking horse. she names him othello after the title of some fancy play her father bought to make the house look more distinguished for guests. she thought the name was cool.

othello is a fucking bitch to literally anyone but shay (and later catalina and tumble). he’s really loyal but can get overtly defensive sometimes. very quiet, just stands there menacingly. we love him though. he’s really tall.

catalina “cat” “tilly” “lina” “bird” osorio

mexican-american, family has been in america for forever (she has some portugese heritage mixed in though)

nickname haver. almost everyone calls her something different. she lives with her aunt and uncle, two cousins and younger brother. they work as ranch hands for hire, and help on cattle drives. occasionally her cousins will pick up odd jobs and rope her into them.

she’s generally pretty quiet but is actually pretty funny sometimes. she’s constantly seen as “the responsible one” out of her family, but it really just stems from a constant worry that she’s not good enough and that she doesn’t want to cause problems. daydreams a lot, kinda anxious, tired a lot because she has sleep problems.

fun fact: really likes birds. can identify them and draws them a lot

tumbleweed “tumble” - catalina’s horse

descended from some of the first horses on the osorio family’s farm, tumble is a mutt of a horse, but she’s perfect for any job you would need on a ranch. she does get distracted a lot though - she’s pretty playful which doesn’t always bode well for a horse her size.

she wasn’t supposed to be named tumble - catalina wanted to name her first horse something cool, like trigger or hawk. but when tumble was born her legs were a little too long and her tawny roan color made her look like a tumbleweed. so after a while the name stuck.

that’s just a basic overview of the main two and their horses but if you have any more questions lmk!! this was pretty short for each of em i tried to leave it open ended

[chernobog13]

"Hey, Mr. Golden Bat, can I have a piece of gum, too?"

"No, you smell funny."

I swear on my Aunt Tillie's beard that the above is a true and accurate translation.

[gardenofbookworms]

week #29 recommendation: bee

Are You Listening? by Tillie Walden

▪︎ fantasy fiction graphic novel ▪︎

when you’ve been around the same people for too long, the familiar starts feeling suffocating. that’s why lou lets bea in the passenger seat.

it was only a short trip, just out west to visit an aunt and uncle. uneventful, simply a break from all the work that lou isn’t even sure she should be on. but then a distant family friend named bea shows up, too far from “home” to still live there. but it’s nearly impossible for an eighteen-year-old to run away on her own with no plan whatsoever, and bea needs someone to look after her. especially in the ever-shifting land of texas, especially with a stray cat with magical powers, and especially with two men who’ve been tailing them. lou’s got a new goal—keep bea safe, no matter the cost. and bring diamond home while she’s at it.

▪︎

am i going to praise the illustrations of every comic book i review? yes. in this case, the drawings are a little hard to get used to at the beginning, but they’re wonderfully abstract and colors are used so well i just—the atmosphere they create is so soft and comforting, and still i got nervous when the tension finally broke. they’re amazing, take my word for it. the other thing—THE REPRESENTATION IS GOLDEN. i was really happy to see not only queer, but female and POC rep. times two!! and the way lou handles bea—she’s trying so hard not to baby her because bea’s an adult, for god’s sake, but she’s going to get herself into trouble if lou’s not around. these kinds of “your family was shitty to you so I’M gonna be your parent now” relationships always get me.

[agendabymooner]

9 to 5 || f1 drivers (5)

(SPIN OFF OF COLOUR ME YOUR COLOUR (WIP) and RUSH)

Summary: Lorelei Hester ‘Lester’ Alessandro is a bassist first and Daniel Ricciardo’s partner second. But it seems like another role is added to her resume as she begins her weekend in Baku as Toto Wolff’s children’s babysitter. 

Chapter summary: Daniel Ricciardo stopped by to say hi to what the team principals had considered as threats to their drivers - it was very hard not to get distracted by Soren and Tia Wolff after all. AND Lester Alessandro envied the Wolff cubs' intelligence as Soren was already on his fourteenth short story on a Thursday noon (he just started reading the book that morning).

Content warning: family-centric content, people trying not to swear in front of children, Uncle Danny content, Australia references, Christian Horner mentioned, Hearth sister!OFC x Max Verstappen relationship, Hearth sister!OFC x Charles Leclerc relationship. 

masterlist

v. the little weapons of destruction distraction

Fourteenth story. 

They were barely halfway through the day and Tilly and Toto’s eldest son had finished thirteen fairy tale stories. The thick book of Grimms Fairy Tales, if she was being truthful, would be something that she’d be able to read in the span of three days. Six hours, if she was motivated enough. 

But as she sat there with her own book opened, she couldn’t help but wonder if Tilly worked extremely hard on getting these children to read a lot. 

Lester knew that the kids she was babysitting were fluent in four languages, but she didn’t know if fluency came with the fast paced reading comprehension skills that Soren obviously had been showing. 

Soren Philip Alphonse Wolff was born to an unmarried couple, Tilly Marie (Hearth) and Toto Wolff. When he was born, it was almost like the wall that Toto used to protect his heart broke down. Despite the obvious features that came from Toto, Ren was more like Tilly, if you were to ask Lester or anyone close to them. Timid, shy, but if you ask him about his books and the characters, his eyes would brighten and he would endlessly ramble about it. At the age of five, you would think that he would be talking about dinosaurs (he likes dinosaurs) and rockets (and he likes rockets too) but not Soren. Soren would share his interest in children’s literature to anyone who would like to listen.

So it somehow didn’t come as a surprise when the boy finished his thirteenth story and moved on to the next. He was so occupied by it that he could hear no one but the characters and the background noise. 

“Zia Lori,” a tiny voice beside her spoke, making the bassist turn and give Tia a smile. The girl looked up at her aunt and raised the colouring book that she was just working on. “Do you like it?” 

There were colours outside the lines but Lester could tell that Tia tried staying inside the shapes while she used different crayons. Paddington had never been this vibrant until now. 

Besides from the initials of her name, Tia Christie Vienna Wolff had more commonalities shared with her namesake. She had Toto’s temperament and the way of how she thrived to colour without going outside the line just proved how she was practically Toto’s carbon copy. 

She had a tendency to get frustrated whenever she sat herself down in front of the shape sorters and she couldn’t fit the right animal on it. The first time she (a year and a half during that time) threw the blocks out of frustration, bewilderment was written all over Toto’s face. But when he turned to look at Tilly for an explanation all she said was, “Haven’t you looked at the mirrors lately?” Still to this day, Toto’s reminding his mini me to take a breather first before her temper goes down to shit. Her perfectionism and the frustration that came with it? Yeah. That was all Toto, and ironically, neither of the parents had ever set some expectations for the children. 

“Like it? What do you mean? I love it!” Lester exclaimed, giving the little girl a high five. 

“But look,” Tia pointed at the colours outside the line, “this is bad.”

“No it’s not,” Lester shook her head, “that’s an accident, and an accident isn’t bad sometimes.”

“What’s acc-ent?” Tia tilted her head, curious about the foreign word that came out of her aunt’s mouth. 

Lester chuckled, both at her curiosity and the fact that she could speak as much German and French (and Italian) as she'd like yet not know the word accident in any language, “It is when you do something that you did not mean to do. Like… Oops!” 

“Ah!” Tia nodded enthusiastically. “Acc-ent!” 

“No, no, Tia,” Lester instructed, “follow Zia Lori… ready?” 

“Mhm!” Tia nodded again. 

“A…” “A…” 

“…k…” “…k…”

“si…” “si…”

“…dent.” “…dent.” 

“Accident!” Lester said the word faster.

“Accident!” Tia repeated with a clap of her hands. 

“There we go,” Lester nodded approvingly. She should teach kids about phonics. It seemed fun to teach. “You do so well at words. Do you read with Mama every night?” 

“Yes,” Tia said meekly, shying away from the woman as she continued, “Mama reads English… and French… and I-t’lian! But she only do French and English more. Papa teaches Italian.” 

“Ahh,” Lester nodded. “It must be exciting reading with Mama, eh? How do you like it?” 

“I love Mama! She reads so well,” Tia paused while she thought of something, “but Papa can do Eeyore more. He sound sad! I love Eeyore! But! So-en reads books to me too!” 

The little lad sitting across the two paused from reading and looked up from the page he was reading, wondering why he was called by Tia. Not sensing any cry for help, Soren returned to his book. 

“I hope Adelmo— when he grows— he can listen to me read,” Tia said with her eyes twinkling. “I can teach him F-ench! Like Mama!” 

According to Tilly, Soren and Toto often hover over Tia. They tended to be more protective when it came to Tia—perhaps it’s the effect of being the only girl in the family. Soren loved his sister a lot and would always read her books, trying to raise her as another version of himself.

Toto loved his kids equally, no doubt. His older kids (not with Tilly) were the subjects of his love alongside his little ones, but even they couldn’t deny that Tia was the most loved one. 

But it seemed like Tia, despite being everyone’s favourite, loved her little brother Adelmo more. It never caused any rift between siblings, but Tia tended to be protective of Adelmo more than anyone. 

At least none of them were bitter or arguing over who liked who. They all loved each other equally. It was just an observation that Lester had done. 

“He’ll grow soon enough, Tia,” Lester told the little girl. “But, right now, he has to feel better so when you get home… you can tell him about your trip with Papa.” 

“Hey, hey! Are those the mini Tillys I’m seeing?” The kids’ eyes widened at the voice as they turned and gasped. 

“Zio Danny!” “Oncle Dan!” 

“I have different names in different languages,” Daniel hoisted the two kids up in his arms as he grunted, “You two are becoming more like your dad. So heavy and tall!” 

“Not tall enough,” Soren crossed his arms with a huff, “Papa is tall like a building!” 

“Godzilla!” Tia exclaimed as Soren nodded in agreement.

“Or… Or King Kong!” It was Tia’s turn to nod enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, he’s incredibly tall, indeed,” Daniel turned and walked towards his girlfriend, leaning forward to kiss her on the temple as he asked, “What have you and the little wombats been up to?” 

“Wombats?” Soren slightly shoved himself away from Daniel’s face as he asked, “what is a wombat?” 

“Ahh, I forgot, you haven’t been to Australia yet,” Daniel let out a ‘tsk’ with a shake of his head. “Your Mum and Dad are depriving you of those little adorable creatures! We need to get that fixed. Tell your Mum or Dad to take you there next time.”

Lester chuckled quietly before finally answering, “We have been doing a lot of colouring and reading so far.”

“‘s that right?” 

“Yes,” Lester insisted with a widened pair of eyes, “too much reading if I am being honest.” 

“Oh! Uncle Dan!” Soren placed his hand on top of Daniel’s head, making the Australian look at him with a slight frown. “Guess what? I’m reading Hansel und Gretel!” He shook himself off from Daniel’s hold and grabbed the opened book from the table, raising it as Daniel looked down at the book.

A frown etched on Daniel’s face as he said, “Ren, lad, I can’t understand this.” 

“What do you mean?” Soren asked. Walking up to Lester, Soren raised the same book for her to read. 

At least Daniel and Lester could agree on not being able to read German. At this rate, they’re both thinking that Toto and Tilly were raising intellectuals. The next Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Hypatia of Alexandria, if you would ask either of them. 

“That explains why Uncle Daniel can’t read it,” Lester found herself chuckling, “we both cannot read German language, Soren.” 

“Oh,” the boy murmured, “okay.” 

“But are you loving it so far?” Daniel asked, now sitting next to Lester with Tia perched on his lap. 

“Yes,” Soren nodded eagerly, “I am about to finish the story!” 

“Such a smart boy,” Lester complimented Soren, the little boy’s cheeks turning red at the compliment. Much like Tilly, her children always shy away from the compliments thrown their way. They were the sweetest children that Lester had met. It was probably because her younger siblings and her nephews and niece are just chihuahuas in the form of human beings.

Lester looked up at her beau, “I am more worried that you’re here and you’re not where you’re supposed to be now.” 

“I got here first before any of the people in the grid does,” Daniel told her smugly. “Some of them are just hearing that the kids are here this weekend and it will be an absolute disaster if all of them found the two at once.”

Tia and Soren Wolff were what Lester could call the tactical team of Mercedes. Well… of any team to be fair. Anyone from other teams could get easily distracted by the kids. Jenson at some point had joked about the two working for their father in Mercedes to distract Red Bull’s drivers hours or days before the race. 

At some point Christian had wanted to ban the kids from visiting their motorhome, but why? The kids were toddlers and entering the school-aged stage. They know nothing about tactics and driving besides from “Papa! Look, cars go fast!” But they still had Tilly’s heart and the drivers, if you were to ask anyone on any team, enjoyed being around Tilly. The Wolff kids often lifted the spirits up in the grid. 

The most fortunate driver to spend his time with the children would be Lewis Hamilton. Not only did he drive for Mercedes-AMG but he was Soren’s godfather. He had been Tilly’s best friend first before Toto was Tilly’s partner. Toto had gotten more softer on him once Stevie changed her surname to Hamilton on Valentine's Day. The other two didn’t stand a chance. 

Max Verstappen was certainly trying to be on Toto's good side. It took him a good while to convince Sylvie, his now-girlfriend, that he hadn’t meant to screw her over once— so you could barely imagine convincing Toto that. Not only was he trying to appease the older man, but he had an opportunity to prove that he’s a good uncle to the kids by babysitting them. Perhaps to prove that he would be a good father as well, but it wasn’t the right words to say in front of Toto Wolff, of all people. 

Charles Leclerc was fairly close to becoming a welcome face at some point, if it hadn’t been for the fact that some gossip page decided to take the context out of a private conversation where he said that he wouldn’t have a child with someone who nearly broke him one way or another. He was speaking of an ex-girlfriend who wouldn’t let go. But once that the story had spread out and his girlfriend had gotten a hold of it, she ran straight to Toto. Yeah, no. Still to this day, Toto wasn’t as convinced that Charles’ intention was to remain true. 

But still. Tia and Soren were what the team principals assumed to be Mercedes’ little weapons of distraction. Especially with Max Verstappen? Yeah. Christian Horner definitely did not want the kids near him during the race weekends. But it wasn’t like he could say it upfront. Max was fairly close to marrying Sylvie. Max’s family was practically connected to Toto’s. 

“Who was the first to hear that?” Lester asked her beau with a brow raised. 

“Charles,” Daniel answered with a shit-eating grin, “but he can’t get out of his media duties.”

“Wow, if Ferrari only made time for their strategies instead of putting their drivers in front of a camera for their spare time,” Lester feigned satisfaction as she sighed dramatically, “just imagine the podiums that they could get.”

“A lot!” Soren piped up before his guilty eyes looked up at the adults, “I am sorry, Zia and Zio. Papa and Mama said it is rude to listen to adults talking.”

“No, it’s alright, mi niño pequeño,” Lester smiled sweetly at the boy. “Thank you for apologizing.”

Daniel only shrugged, “But he isn’t wrong.” He and Soren exchanged grins. 

If there’s anything that Lester had learned at the very beginning of her relationship with Daniel, it would be that he would be one to encourage Soren to say something that a smart-ass would say. Tilly told Lester once that Daniel was the devil on her shoulder back when she started in her racing teams in 2014. Like that shoey during the Silverstone 2014. That was all Daniel.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when Soren nodded at Daniel’s approving look. Soren was smart, indeed, and clearly Daniel’s trying to “corrupt” his brain with mischief and whatever it was he’s concocting at the paddock. 

Maybe this was what they meant when Soren and Tia were Mercedes’ weapons of destruction. And they were both being influenced by a Red Bull driver. Ironic.

[camelliagwerm]

25 For the Dragon Age asks?

Oh thank you. | DRAGON AGE ASKS

25. What is/was their relationship with their family like?

I'm not sure any of them have an objectively good relationship with their family. This got a little long so under the cut it goes.

Considering Magni committed fratricide and didn't even hide it, and supported Bhelen only because he wanted an Aeducan to remain on the throne, I wouldn't consider it to be a good one. Though, since Bhelen canonically won't give up on Paragon Aeducan thanks to some ambient banter during Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, I guess they must have at least made up at some point and the Ferelden-Orzammar alliance must have held. He's also an absent father from all five of his children's lives, for varying reasons — Valda (his daughter with a warrior caste woman that he had an affair with prior to Origins) because she is a mostly unacknowledged bastard; Magni the Younger & Gorim the Younger (his sons with Mardy) due to duties elsewhere; Kieran because they and Morrigan are separated; and Astyth, their daughter with Anora, for her safety as at that point (9:44/45) the Reaver madness has likely begun to set in. In short, Magni has currently disappeared and no one quite knows where they are as of Veilguard (I'm hoping we'll get at least some hint of the Warden's presence, even if we don't see them directly.)

For Rosalind, by the end of DA2, the only family she had left was Sebastian, who she had only recently married, Gamlen (who she doesn't talk to much) and Charade (again, she doesn't talk to much.) And obviously, Malcolm died before DA2 began, Carver died in Lothering, Bethany in the Deep Roads and then Leandra at Quentin's hands. And her relationship with Leandra and Carver were strained. She was forced to be the provider too young and it made her resent her mother, especially when she was told she had 'Leandra's look'. She felt like she was constantly competing with Carver when she didn't want to, and she was so overprotective of Bethany that it strained their relationship too and it got Bethany killed. Hell, Rosalind originally took the Templar specialisation so she could protect Bethany without Beth ever needing to go to the Circle. Losing every one of them and then nearly Sebastian too turned her mad with grief, and she was only beginning to heal around 9:40, when Sebastian left the Chantry and she resgined from being Viscountess. But those old wounds reopened when Varric got in contact with her about Corypheus, and she felt like she owed it to everyone to leave behind her husband and their infant twins to go to the Inquisition. She didn't come back. Her relationships with her family were distant or smothering, no in between.

Arthur has a mixed relationship with his family. On one hand, he cannot abide his brother Percival, his mother Marina died when he was six and has been estranged from his father, Godfrey, ever since his magic flared up for the first time (when he was told Mama wouldn't be waking up again.) But he also had a loving, maternal figure in his aunt Lucille, who took guardianship of him and made all the necessary arrangements for him for being taken to the Circle and the benefits that were afforded to him as a Trevelyan, despite his status as a mage. And he was close with his sister Matilda (Tilly), prior to her marriage to an Orlesian chevalier; he and Tilly reconnect during the Inquisition years as Tilly lives in Val Royeaux with her children (husband was killed during the civil war.) Ultimately, to a lot of his wider family, his name was more likely to close doors than open them due to being a mage, until he became the Inquisitor and all of a sudden, they were clamouring to be a concerned, loving relative of his. He shut them out, and only remains in contact with Tilly and Lucille, even after Trespasser. And besides, he also gets a large, extended family in the form of the Chargers after he and the Bull tie the knot.

[justanothercmblog]

Where were you? - Part 2

Summary: When Spencer doesn't turn up to his daughter's swim meet although she knows he's in town her world seems to crumble down around her. With the help of Emily, they finally talk it out.

genre: hurt/comfort

pairing: spencer reid & teen!daughter

Part 1

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

“Emily?” “Come in” “How is she? Was she okay?”, Spencer immediately rushed to ask as soon as the door of Emily’s office was closed behind him. The woman sighed deeply. “You really messed up Reid.” “I know, I don’t know how that could have happened, I … I don’t really have an excuse..” “Well, what’s your excuse for completely missing that your daughter is not doing well? I don’t want to break her trust in talking to you but Spencer, she’s 16. She’s independent and grown up for her age but have you openly talked about how she feels when you're at a case for multiple days and shes all alone? And have you really talked to her recently? Cause she said things last night that I know you don’t want her to feel.” 

“I’m such an idiot", he ran his hand through his hair in stress. “Where were you after I dismissed you from work yesterday?”, Emily asked bluntly and she didn’t have to be a profiler to see the way his cheeks heated up and he got uncomfortable.

“You met someone”, she concluded and he nodded shamefully. “I … yeah... I went to see her when we got home yesterday, I haven’t talked to Matilda about her yet and I wanted to just keep it separate and go see her before I could then spend my night with Tilly, I … I didn’t think of the swim meet...” “Obviously...”, Emily scoffed. “Listen, Spencer, I want you to be happy, to date, whatever, but that was a low blow and quite frankly not a good basis to tell Matilda about her either.” “I know! I messed it all up, I just.. I don’t know how to do it all, it’s all so new with her and I was scared that Matilda wouldn’t like her and I've been sneaking around it’s so dumb now  I … I don’t know what to do now Emily, how do I explain that to her?”

Emily leaned back and took a deep breath thinking. “Honestly Spencer, I have no idea. I don’t think Matilda will be fine with your lies, I genuinely think she’s going to see right through you and she deserves to know. And you cannot make promises to her you can’t keep. I know you, Spencer, you’re going to overcompensate and it won’t help.” “I feel so bad. I never wanted her to feel bad or like I didn’t care.. she was doing so well I never thought she was struggling at all, how could I have missed this?” “From what I’ve been gathering she didn’t want you or any of us to know. She knows how to mask Spencer, she thinks she is expected to do good.” “But I don’t expect anything like that from her, I … how did I do so badly..”, he let his head fall, his shoulders slumped. “We’ll figure it out when we’re off okay?” He nodded. “And Spencer?” “huh?” “I can’t wait to hear about the woman that’s got you blushing like that”, she teased and though that was the last thing on his mind right then he couldn’t stop the ghost of a smile.

-----

When Matilda heard the car pull into the driveway in the afternoon she immediately tensed. She wasn’t ready to talk. Wasn’t ready to see her dad and to listen to his excuses, but on the other hand she really did want to know what was going on and where he had been if not with her. She felt kind of selfish to think like that, but then again, she was allowed to question that wasn’t she? Emily had said she’d be there too and though she had woken up in horror about how much she had told her aunt the previous night, there was also a deep sense of relief there, to know that there was someone now who knew how much she was struggling. 

The girl had jumped up and seen her dad get out of the car, his hair tousled as usual and his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Where was Emily? Her nerves got the better of her and she quickly skipped to close her door. She heard the front door open and some movement downstairs before the sound of the stairs and a knock on her door. “Yeah?”, she called out after a second, clutching her pillow and looking over at the door just as it opened to reveal her dad peaking in with a sad smile.

It was impossible to tell who of the Reids was more nervous. They both hated confrontation and throughout the fifteen years that it was the two of them they had never had a fight like last night. “Hey bug, uhm... I know you don’t want to see me right now but uhm. So Emily said you wanted her here for when we talk, so uhm. She’ll be here in like half an hour... Sorry, I just... I wanted to see you, I’ll be downstairs. I… I love you bug okay?”, Spencer said nervously while his daughter just bit down on her lip and nodded, not able to look at her father. He nodded to himself, it broke his heart that his daughter wasn’t even able to look at him and he could tell that she was really struggling which made it all so much worse. 

He  closed the door back behind him and went downstairs while Matilda threw the pillow she had been clutching on to against the wall. She didn’t know where to go with all of the emotions she was feeling. The pain from yesterday was still lingering while at the same time she felt ridiculous for making such a big deal out of it. The anger was also still lingering but was now overshadowed by curiosity.

She really did want to hear her dad out, see what he had to say, where he was and why he was lying to her. She had always thougt he didn’t lie to her. He knew how she was, how she always wanted to understand everything and be informed cause it kept her anxiety at bay so that made him lying even worse, she was now questioning everything he was telling her. Before she could spiral into it all however she heard another car and saw Emily jump out of her car and the doorbell ring a second later. 

The girl heard the two of them talk downstairs and then again a knock on her door. “Yeah?” Emily peaked into the room and smiled at her niece. “Hey you, was school okay today?”, she asked and Matilda just shrugged. “Kind of hard to concentrate.” Emily nodded. “I get that. So are you ready to have a little talk?” “Not really”, she said and Emily nodded again. “I get that too, what do you want to do?” “You mean except pretend like nothing happened?”, she joked sarcastically and Emily sighed as she sat down on the girl’s bed.

“I don’t think that’s the best way to go about this.” “I know.” “Your dad really wants to apologise you know?” “Yeah I know but I don’t want to hear it I just want to know what was more important than me.” Emily cringed. This was not going to go easy. “Come on, let’s go down to the living room and talk, okay?” Matilda nodded and followed her aunt in silence. 

------

Spencer was nervously tapping his leg when the two came down the stairs and he immediately got up when they entered. Matilda didn’t look at him, she just crawled into her usual spont in the corner of the couch and made herself small, pulling a pillow in her lap to hold on to. Spencer knew that she was subconsciously shielding herself with the pillow, he knew his daughter and he could tell that she was incredible anxiety ridden right then. It hurt him to know that he was the cause of it and it made him feel even more terrible.

“Bug..”, he started off without even thinking about it and his daughter's eyes flicked up to him for just a second before she looked down again with a frown. “Okay you two, I’m kind of in a tough position here with the two of you. Tilly, do you want to start? Tell your dad what’s bothering you?”, Emily said softly. She sat beside the girl and gently put her hand on her leg. Matilda looked over at Emily and shrugged. “He knows what’s bothering me, I told him yesterday”, she said and Spencer nodded. 

“She’s right, I … I do know and I am so sorry bug! You gotta believe me. I never ever wanted to have you feeling like you’re not a priority to me. I have no idea how I could have forgotten your swim meet, I can’t tell you how sorry I truly am Tilly. I should have been there and you have every right to be mad at me, I just need you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

Matilda kept her frown on her face. He did sound genuine but it didn’t help. She still felt abandoned. “Even if you forgot, however that is even possible, you still didn’t come home... You would have noticed me missing if you had come home..”, she said, not letting him off the hook that easily. “And then you also lied to me. You lied to my face without even flinching. You promised you would never do that to me. You know that I hate being lied to and I thought I could trust you to not do it, Dad..”, her voice broke off at the end and Spencer could physically feel his heart drop. He was feeling nauseous. He had fucked up so badly. He knew he had but seeing her so … so disappointed in him... He didn’t know what to say.

 “I… I don’t have an excuse. You’re .. you’re so right Matilda..”, he just said. “I should have gone home to see you right away, I shouldn’t have lied to you... I don’t have an excuse for that it was the dumbest thing I could have done... I promise I won’t lie to you again, bug”, he said, obviously desperate and Emily’s eyes snapped over to him at that. Had she not told him hours earlier not to overcompensate like that? He couldn’t make a promise like that to his daughter, what was he thinking. But Matilda had clocked that promise and looked up at him. Challenging his gaze, she raised up her chin and crossed her arms in front of her then. “Where were you then?”, she asked and Spencer knew he had fucked up royally with that promise. He swallowed hard, his hands were clammy as he took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell you but you need to promise to hear me out", he said and she nodded. 

“I… I met someone a couple weeks ago a… a woman.. I met a woman..”, he stuttered and Matilda's jaw dropped in shock. What? That was it? Her dad had never dated anyone before.. Not that she knew of anyways and with the time that he had she doubted that there ever was someone. She didn’t know what to say to that. What did that even mean? Her brain was working in overdrive as she continued to stare at him. “You… what?”, she finally got out.

“I … I met a woman. I’ve been.. I’ve been dating her”, he said and now Matilda’s head snapped over to Emily, trying to see if she had known but unable to tell. “I went to see her yesterday after we landed, it’s been difficult, seeing her and not telling you and dividing my time and I thought that..” That was when Matilda interrupted him. “So instead of wanting to see me when you got back after five days you.. You went to see .. you went to see some woman you’re dating?”, she asked shocked, her voice trembling and lips quivering. This didn’t make this better at all. This was the worst. 

“No nononon please Tilly, don’t see it like that, that’s not … that’s not what that means!”, Spencer scrambled to find words while Matilda’s eyes were full of tears now. She was trying so badly to pull it together. “What does it mean then, dad?”, she spat out, hurt written all over her face. “I know I went wrong about this I just. I wanted to keep it separate and go see her so then I could come home to you and give you my undivided attention, I thought we were going to have our Pizza and movie night and you could have told me about what I had missed and I … I thought I was doing it right but it was all wrong, please bug, don’t cry. I love you so much Tills”, he pleaded and had gotten up to now kneel in front of the girl who shrunk back away from him. She couldn’t even look at him. She turned to Emily who had just been watching the scene unfold, unable to say anything. 

“Can I go with you please?”, she spoke barely above a whisper. Emily’s heart dropped as she looked between the two. Spencer looked like he was about to cry and Matilda was already there. Now she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to just do that for the girl but she also knew that this had to be worked out. “Matilda, please. I never meant to make you feel like that, if I had known about the meet I would have been there, please look at me”, Spencer pleaded but Matilda refused to look at her dad. “But you did know about it. And you don’t forget. You just didn't care. If I go with Em you can have your girlfriend over. Isn’t that what you want?”, she got out. “No no nonono no way Matilda. There can never be anyone in this world that will ever be more important to me than you I promise Matilda. I love you so much I’m so sorry that I have been such an awful dad to you, baby. I should have noticed that you were feeling lonely. I got it all wrong, I should have told you that I met someone, I shouldn’t have kept it a secret and I should have come home to check on you first and not go see her just to keep it from you. I was just so scared that you wouldn’t like me dating and now I’ve really messed it all up I should have known that you wouldn’t want me to date I did it all wrong.” 

“I never said I didn’t want you to date”, Matilda said quietly after a couple of seconds and Spencer looked up at his daughter. “I never said that”, she added and shook her head. “I want you to be happy, I don’t want to be so much trouble for you, I know I’m being difficult, I don’t want to be like this it just..  I really thought you didn’t lie to me. I trusted you. It just hurts", she broke out and then fell into a full-on crying fit.

Spencer's heart hurt so bad hearing these words leave his daugher's lips. “Oh no baby, please I'm so sorry, can I hug you bug, please.”, Spencer pleaded and Matilda finally just nodded. It didn’t take another heartbeat for Spencer to sit down next to his daughter on the couch and pull her into his arms, safely wrapping his arms around the girl. 

She clung onto her dad now, arms thrown around his back and burying her face in his chest while she cried violently. She had missed him so badly. With everything that had happened she hadn’t even welcomed him back and feeling him embrace her like that and smelling his cologne made her even more emotional. She full-on sobbed in her dad’s chest now and Emily decided that was the moment for her to step out of the room at least.

Spencer held his daughter tightly against his chest. “I’m so sorry bug, so so sorry”, he whispered as he held her and rocked her back and forth like he used to do when she was little. He rested his chin on top of her hair and let his tears silently run down his cheek too while he cradled his daughter's head against his chest with one hand and held her close with the other. “I promise you’re the most important thing in my life bug, you’re not difficult for saying what bothers you, you have every right to feel how you’re feeling and I am so glad you told me how much you’ve been hurting. I should have known. I should have seen that you were feeling lonely. I should have been there and listened to you better. I promise I’ll be better, we’ll figure this out together, I promise you.” “I missed you so much Dad.”, she pressed out in between sobs and he held her even tighter. “I missed you too baby. I missed you too I’m so sorry that I’m gone so much. You don’t deserve that", he said and he meant it. 

He had put his daughter through so much throughout the years it honestly was a wonder that she was still this attached to him and didn’t full on hate him. She slowly but surely calmed down a little, silent tears were still running down her cheeks but she was breathing regularly now and didn’t cling to him as tightly anymore. He continued to hold her, running his hand up and down her back now and shushing her. “It’s okay, I’m here bug. I’m here”, he repeated until she slowly let go of him and sat back a little. It hurt Spencer so bad to see his daughter's face like that. He cupped her cheeks gently and swiped away her tears with his thumbs.

“I am so sorry baby. I will do better, I promise you that.” Matilda nodded and now started wiping away the tears herself, composing herself. “I’m sorry for running away yesterday..”, she admitted quietly and he smiled a sad smile at her. “I get it, just … if you ever feel like you need to leave again, please tell me where you are, that you’re safe okay? I’m glad you went to Emily, I really am, but I was really worried baby.” “I’m sorry Dad.” “It’s okay. We’re okay.” The girl nodded. “Can you… can you tell me about her?”, she shyly asked then, peaking at her dad to see him blushing. “Sure.. uhm, but maybe we should let Emily go home first huh?”, he said and got up from his spot on the couch to go over to the kitchen where Emily was sipping on a cup of tea that she had made herself. 

------

“How are things looking?”, she asked as soon as she saw Spencer. He smiled softly. “I think we’ll be okay. Thank you for being here, I know she felt a lot more comfortable because of that.. We can be really lucky to have you Emily.” “Oh, you don’t have to thank me, Reid. We’re family and I’m really proud of you, even when you act like an idiot sometimes.”, she teased and he chuckled. “Well, I don’t want to hold you here any longer.” “Yeah I think you still have some talking to do, And just for your information I want to know about the girlfriend too.” Spencer blushed again. “She’s not.. We’re not.. I haven’t..”, he stuttered and Emily just chuckled. “It’s okay, I’ll leave you two to it, just try to explain it better to your daughter.” She winked and left after hugging her niece goodbye too. Spencer got back to the living room with two cups of tea and handed one to his daughter who looked over at him curiously. 

-----

“Okay.. I guess I owe you some explanations”, he sighed and she nodded eagerly. “Who is she? Where did you meet? Do you really like her? Is she nice?”, the girl bubbled out and Spencer chuckled. “She is really nice. I do think you’d like her.. Uhm.. her name is Florence, but she goes by Flo. We met at the coffee shop close to the BAU, you know, the one where I always get you those blueberry muffins you like.” The girl nodded. “I’ve seen her there a lot and we started talking every now and then and we really connected so after a while she asked me if  I was single and I guess I noticed then that she was interested in me, you know your dad, I don’t notice social clues like that, but yeah so after that I asked her out on a date. That was a couple of weeks ago and we’ve been on a couple of other dates after that. I didn’t mean to sneak around behind your back or lie to you Matilda, I just wanted to make sure I really liked her before I introduced the idea of me dating someone.”

Matilda rolled her eyes. “Dad I am literally fifteen years old, I can handle you dating people.” “I realise that now but it was also really new to me too sweety.” Suddenly another thought came to the girl. “Does she know about me?”, she asked carefully and Spencer nodded. “She does. She knew before we went on our first date that was important to me!”, he reassured her and Matilda nodded. “And she’s okay with that?” “Of course bug. I wouldn’t have continued this if she wasn’t. She’s asked about you a lot you know?” “Do you really like her?” Spencer grinned big at that. “I do. I really really do.” Matilda smiled, she hadn’t seen her dad as excited before. “Why don’t you ask her to be your girlfriend then?”, she asked bluntly. “I… I felt like I needed to talk to you before and I procrastinated talking to you about it because I was worried that you would feel like..”, he sighed. “Like I made you feel just now, I didn’t want you to think I was abandoning you 'cause I am not, bug, I promise nothing about this will change my priorities.” “Dad you’re an idiot, you know?”, Matilda said bluntly and Spencer laughed. “I guess you’re right.” “I just don’t like it when you keep things from me, you know that, I want you to be happy and maybe if I like her, I wouldn’t be so lonely either..”, she added quietly and Spencer’s heart felt like it was about to burst. “Oh bug”, he said and pulled the girl into a hug again.

“I really think you’ll like her.” “What does she do? Does she have kids?”, Matilda asked curiously and Spencer shook his head. “She doesn’t have kids no, uhm she’s a little younger than me actually”, he admitted and his daughter raised her brows at him. “Oh? What does that mean Dad?” “Nothing bad I promise, she’s 30. And she’s a teacher.” Matilda’s eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me she teaches High School!”, she exclaimed, going through her female teachers but he chuckled. “No bug. She teaches elementary school. She’s actually really excited to meet you.” “Oh okay.. You should probably ask her to be your girlfriend first right?” “I uhm.. You think?” “Dad..” “Yeah no right, you’re right. I’ll take her out again and ask her officially and then you can meet her if she feels ready too.” “Right, dating an older man with a teenage daughter does sound intimidating", Matilda said. “As long as I don’t get an evil stepmom I’ll behave”, she reassured and Spencer chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you become a Cinderella, bug.”. 

Taglist: @venomsvl @reguluscrystals

[vittoriaisfuckingpathetic]

take my hand (don't fear the reaper) chapter II

rated M | read it on ao3 | prev chapter | next chapter

John reflects on his tumultuous relationship with Dutch, his interpersonal relationships, and fatherhood in general leading up to the final train robbery.

The morning everything fell apart, the atmosphere in camp was tense. 

Of course, this was no different than it had been the gang’s entire stay at Beaver Hollow. Everyone was uncomfortable, and moreover, everyone was greatly aware of how dire the situation was. 

The gang was fracturing into pieces; they all knew it, but nobody dared to say a word — leaving things to be, put simply, dicey.

Dutch always kept himself situated at his tent by the mouth of the cave. Always watching. Always paranoid. 

“What’re you doin’, Johnny boy?” 

“Went for a piss, now I’m gettin’ a smoke,” John replied defensively. He had always prickled against being questioned, but especially by Dutch (even moreso as of late). “That okay?” he snarked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“It’s quite late,” Dutch replied, sounding almost bored. Making John wonder what the man’s angle was.

“And yet here you are awake, too,” John replied venemously. Dutch rarely slept, especially when he’d go through one of his ‘phases’, as Hosea had once called it. There were periods when Dutch would be very high-energy, coming up with wild (even by Dutch’s usual standard), unrealistic ideas, and sleeping even less than usual. 

The elder man clicked his tongue. “Enough of the attitude, John. I raised you better than that.” Even after all of these years, Dutch could still make him squirm with just a look.

“There somethin’ you needin’ from me?” John asked, knowing fully well that there was no such thing as having a civil conversation with Dutch. Not anymore, anyway. It was easier to just get it over with than play along with the man’s inane mind games.

“Not at all. Have a good night,” Dutch smiled affably. “...After all, I’m sure you need to get back to conspiring against me with Abigail ‘n Arthur,” he added, his voice unnervingly calm. “You know, if you needed a smoke, you could’ve just asked me. I always have a pack somewhere in my tent.” 

John swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. “I… I wasn’t—” he wasn’t even aware Dutch had seen them talking. Or had been close enough to hear some of their conversation. How much had he heard? Had Dutch even heard any of it, or had he just seen him smoking?

Fuck.

Dutch had simply chuckled humorlessly. “You’re still a terrible liar, John. Thought I raised you better than that, too.” 

John had barely slept a wink all night. When he had gotten back to the tent, he laid on the bedroll (not wanting to wake up Abigail and Jack, who looked perfectly cozy on his cot) and stared at the tent’s ceiling for hours. 

What felt like almost as soon as he had fallen asleep, Jack was in John’s face, having sat himself on his father’s chest, prattling on excitedly.

The four-year-old was clearly more energetic than his lethargic parents had been in years. “G’morning, Pa! Why’d you sleep on the floor? I was actually on the floor, but then I got cold. When did you get on the floor?” Jack spoke at a rapid-fire pace that John’s tired brain could hardly keep up with.

It wasn’t Jack’s fault. John had never been a morning person.

“I… just give me a second, okay? And try to be a little quieter or you’ll wake your ma.” 

“Don’t bother. I’m already up,” Abigail sighed, swinging her legs over the cot. 

The family got dressed in silence, the tent feeling so much smaller with three people up and about, getting ready for their day. 

And yet, something about the sheer normalcy of it, of behaving like a normal family, was comforting. The only peace John got during the day were these quiet moments just as the sun was bathing the Earth in a golden glow.

“Can I go bring my drawing over to Aunt Tilly?” Jack asked urgently, practically dancing in place as he awaited an answer. The boy had scribbled something for Tilly the prior evening, but he’d been too tuckered out by the time he finished to deliver it. 

Hence his urgency that morning. A part of John was almost envious in a way — he wished his biggest problems were about paper. 

“Sure,” John answered at the same time Abigail replied, “Only if you put your shoes on first,”

The little boy shoved his feet into his boots, not bothering to ask for help tying his shoes. The laces went ignored as Jack raced outside. He left one of the flaps open, morning sunshine pouring inside the tent.

Abigail was quiet for a moment, observing John. 

“Hey,” Abigail greeted, placing her palm on his back.

“Hey,” he parroted back after making sure his suspender button was secured to his pants. Now officially dressed and ready to face whatever shitshow would greet him outside the tent.

“You okay?” she questioned.

John merely shrugged in response, uncertain as to how to answer.

“Somethin’ happen last night?” She asked, astute as ever. 

“Sort of. Dutch was bein’ creepy. Think he’s onto us.”

“Creepy how?” Abigail pressed.

“I don’t— I dunno.” He shrugged again, having difficulty finding the right words. “He was threatenin’ me, I think. I guess. I dunno.”

“Well, what did he say?” 

“I— he basically said what I just told you.” 

She crossed her arms, “Why’re you bein’ like this?”

“I ain’t ‘being like’ anythin’.” He responded somewhat defensively. 

“ Fine .” She huffed, turning on her heel. 

“I— Abi, wait, come back,” He grabbed her by the wrist, a risky move (one that could’ve easily gotten him slapped). “I weren’t tryin’ to be short with you, I just…” he sighed.

She raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue. 

“You know I ain’t no good with words. ‘Specially when I feel like…” he trailed off, gesturing helplessly with his free hand. It was difficult for him to verbalize his feelings, and it had always been like that. It was easier to internalize those negative thoughts and emotions than open up.

It was Abigail’s turn to sigh and nod. “Okay. Okay. Is this somethin’ that’s needin’ to be dealt with now? Do we have to move up our plans?” She asked, leaving out most details in case of prying ears nearby.

“I don’t know if it changes anythin’. Dutch has been treatin’ us all suspicious-like ever since Shady Belle.” 

Abigail pursed her lips. “Maybe, but it feels more… pressin’, now.”

“Agreed. Look, I’ll talk to Arthur 'n see if he has any ideas.” It was the only solution he really had, even though he knew he should have some sort of plan B in place. Hell, plan A was barely set in stone.

Abigail looked as though she was about to say something else, but she stopped herself. Shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Listen, I’m gonna go get some coffee… maybe you could go talk to Jack? See how he’s doin’? He was cryin’ the other day and he didn’t know why.”

John nodded. “I’ll… I’ll see what I can do. Dunno if he’ll wanna open up to me,” he replied self-deprecatingly.

“You won’t know if you don’t try,” Abigail responded. She let go of his hand and left the tent, giving him one last look.

It was different than the usual looks she threw at him. Softer.

After a somewhat unsatisfying breakfast of canned beans, the first thing John was greeted with upon leaving his tent was Miss Grimshaw. Her voice was a little too loud for that time in the morning. “Mister Marston!” 

“Mornin’, Miss Grimshaw,” John greeted, tipping the brim of his hat.

“Did you know Mister Pearson up and left?” Susan asked, incredulous.

“I did not.” John lied, avoiding her shrewd gaze, fully aware she could see right through him. She always had been able to sniff out when he was lying.

“ And, do you know what he told me? He told me I should get out, too, and ‘save myself’.” she said, using air quotes. 

He hummed, unsure what exactly to say in response. He didn’t want to oust himself as being the one who saw Pearson off and made no attempt to stop him. 

“Well,” he finally said, outstretching his arms. “I can’t say I’m too surprised. Folk been cuttin’ and runnin’ left and right.” John was careful to keep his stance diplomatic, trying to gauge Susan’s reaction. 

Grimshaw crossed her arms. “I don’t understand it,”

“Yeah,” John replied somewhat uncomfortably. It seemed to effectively kill the conversation, and Susan walked away. 

He sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, and decided to finally find Jack.

“How are you, Jack?” John asked, sitting next to him.

“Fine,” the little boy answered breezily, continuing to play with his toy horse. “D’you wanna play with me? You gotta pretend this rock is another horse, ‘kay?” Jack chattered excitedly, placing said rock in John’s palm.

John examined the stone in his palm with a furrowed brow. He didn’t quite understand how it was supposed to be a horse or look horse shaped in any remote way, but he supposed he just didn’t have the level of imagination that his four-year-old had. 

Then again, John had never been particularly imaginative. He never quite had the freedom to just play when he was little. 

“Just fine? You don’t want to… talk about anything?”

“Like what?”

Slightly alarmed by his son’s seemingly remarkable ability to compartmentalize at such a young age, John tried to approach the subject gently. “I dunno. You’ve been through a lot lately.”

“D’you wanna talk about horses? When I grow up, I want one jus’ like Grandpa Hosea’s.” With his toy horse, he nudged John’s rock which was supposed to be another “horse”. “When’s he comin’ back?” 

It then occurred to John that he didn’t really know what Abigail had told the boy had happened with the botched bank robbery. After all, he’d been in prison. “I wish I knew, Jack. I wish I knew.” It was simpler than explaining the intricacies of death to a four-year-old, even if Jack had already been around far too much death. 

Perhaps it was more that John didn’t want to verbally acknowledge Hosea’s death. He’d seen it with his own eyes, had lived it, but it still didn’t feel real.

“I miss him,”

He sighed deeply. “Me too. I miss him a lot.” In an effort to not dwell on his own feelings that he hadn’t quite sorted regarding Hosea, he decided to change the subject. “So, how do you play?” 

“We’re playing horses, and they’re gonna race,” Jack explained as if it was clear as day.

John nodded, pretending to fully understand. “Right, and then what?”

Jack blinked at him. “What d’you mean? We’re s’posda race. It’s easy, you jus’ gotta pretend.” 

“But I gotta rock, and you got an actual horse. Rocks ain’t got legs.” 

Jack sighed dramatically. “You’re s’posed to pretend it’s a horse.”

He was either stupid, or slow, and he couldn’t decide which. “I know, but—”

Dutch interrupted John, stomping angrily toward the pair. “You think I don’t know what you’re sayin’ to people?!” 

“Jack, go find your ma,” John said, ushering the little boy in the direction of the tents. He sighed deeply. “What’re you hollerin’ at me for now, Dutch? Especially in front of my kid?” 

“Oh, please, don’t you start with that doting father act now. It ain’t foolin’ no one, especially me.” Dutch stepped closer. “I know you, John. I know what you are .” 

He tried to ignore the chill that went down his spine. “You’re talkin’ crazy again, Dutch. I just don’t know why we’re doin’ any of this.” 

“Why? Why ?” Dutch asked incredulously. “Because I say so! I am done explaining myself to you.” he turned his heel to leave, but almost as if being puffed up with a new air of anger, he stopped himself. “You wanna be the general? You don’t have the grit!” he screamed, spit flying from his mouth.

Did Dutch really have the nerve to call getting them all hunted down and killed grit ? Surely the man was missing a few screws. He stepped backward in an attempt to get more personal space. “Grit? That what you call this?” 

“How did the Pinkertons know about the bank job in Saint Denis, John? You wanna tell me that?!” Dutch demanded, his voice cracking as it did when he was well and truly angry. 

John had really been becoming tired of being accused of being the rat; especially when he had given Dutch nothing but (lately unearned) loyalty the last thirteen years of his life. It was past the point of hurting, instead, it just made him angry. From John’s perspective, Dutch was truly past the point of delusional. There was no use arguing back or screaming, the way Dutch was. 

“If you really think that, you are gone in the head.”

“I raised you as a son! You goddamn snake !” Dutch yelled, his words echoing throughout the camp. He stormed off to the mouth of the cave, still yelling nonsensically.

John tossed the rock he was still holding (for some reason) onto the ground with a scoff. Dutch and his delusions were getting more elaborate and dangerous as the days went on. 

He needed to get his family out, and fast.

The rest of the morning dragged on slowly. The simmering tension in the camp continued to build. 

John had been leaning against a tree for the better part of an hour, nursing a cigarette or two. He was still stewing from his earlier argument with Dutch. 

Besides, he needed time alone to think. If there was one good thing to be said about the overarching strain in the camp, it was the fact that people were keeping to themselves more. 

And in this case, it was good. John always processed his thoughts better when people weren’t pestering him. 

He took a slow, contemplative drag of his cigarette, hoping it would clear his mind. 

He turned his gaze to Dutch’s tent. The man was standing close to Micah, the two in deep conversation. 

It was always fucking Micah. Always in Dutch’s ear, making the man even more paranoid. 

His train of thought was interrupted by Arthur passing by.   

“How you holdin’ up?” John asked, even if he knew that there probably wasn't a comforting answer awaiting him.

“Been better,” Arthur said simply.

“We ain’t always seen eye-to-eye, you and me.” John started, opening the conversation up for more. There was so much he wanted to say to the man. 

“I guess I thought that… things always came too easy to you.” He shrugged. “But, here we are.”

“What are we going to do about this? About Dutch?”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe we can stop things from going too far.”

John glanced over his shoulder, where Micah, Joe, and Cleet sat at the table just outside of Dutch’s tent. “Still. Things’re gonna end bad.” he stated. It wasn’t a question of if, it was a statement of when. 

“They surely will,” Arthur answered, sounding resigned to that fate.

There was a pregnant pause where neither of them said a word. 

“You watch yourself.” John finally said, mentally scolding himself for not saying more. He walked away, unsure how to keep the conversation going with prying ears nearby.

“I’ll catch you later, then,” 

“Javier,” John greeted, sitting down at the campfire. The autumnal chill in the air was growing more apparent with every passing day. 

In response, Javier merely grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Why you acting like this? I thought we had to stick together?”

“Oh, I am. We are… loyalty. It’s you.” Javier sniffed. He’d been acting real odd ever since John had gotten back from Sisika, but John couldn’t figure out exactly why.

“Me? You saved me once… more than once.” he briefly faltered. “I’ve saved you… now what?”

“I’m sticking to my family,” Javier said as if it was so simple, and then he went back to sharpening his knife.

“These people ain’t your family… who are they?”

He holstered his knife. “You know what? You’re an arrogant son of a bitch, John.” 

“No.” John looked down, gaze focused on the campfire. Maybe Javier’s accusation was correct in the past, but not now. “I won’t let my child die because of Dutch… I can’t. This is gettin’ crazy, and you know it.”

Javier scoffed, getting up from his chair. “Get your head straight, John.” he spat. And that was that. John didn’t acknowledge anyone else when they came to sit down at the fire, preferring to stew in his own thoughts. 

It was ironic that he was sitting next to people he barely trusted anymore. Mere months ago, he would’ve trusted anyone in camp (sans Micah) with his life.

But now?

“We have work to do, my friends, let’s go. Come on, we are gonna borrow a little money from Old Uncle Sam…” Dutch had that crazed look in his eye yet again. “And be out of his hair, once and for all.”

He always said things like that. But he never meant them. Who was to say that the train job be any different?

Still, as the gang mounted up, John let himself foolishly hope. 

A little bit of hope couldn’t hurt, he supposed.

Abigail caught up to him just before he was about to get Old Boy moving. 

“John,” she said, coming up to the horse’s left side. “I…” She was worried, that much was clear, and he didn’t blame her.

He was worried, too. In fact, he couldn't recall a time in recent memory when he wasn't worried.

He reached down and grasped her hand, squeezing it gently. “It‘s one last job, Abigail. It’ll be easy. One more job and then I’m — then we’re done,” he wondered if his words sounded as empty to her as they did to him. 

There was always one more job. One more score. It was never truly over. 

“Do you really believe that?”

“...No,” He admitted with a shake of his head. “I’ll be back before you can say ‘spaghetti’.” 

Abigail let go of his hand reluctantly, saying nothing else. John spurred Old Boy up into a canter to catch up to the others.

a/n: i feel like this chapter might not be the best it can be but i was determined to get it out the day i posted it to ao3. i hope you guys understand and i promise i’ll be at the top of my game next update.

[nicascurls]

Breaking the Dollhouse/Final Family AU

Based on my mom and I having an altar of our deceased family members for Dia de Los Muertos The family essentially has an altar for everyone they’ve lost in their lives. It started with Junior putting a photo up of Bree to honor her (this is during the time where he still didn’t have it in him to visit her grave) and later on, other pictures began to get added.

Sarah and Alice Pierce and Meg Tilly were just one of few pictures who are on the altar. It took a while but eventually, Andy found it in him to put up a picture of his aunt Maggie too. Sometimes they’ll light a candle at the altar for them or just talk with then when they walk by. It’s something the whole family does to honor the people they lost. 🥺

Aww, I love that.

They absolutely do. When Andy did eventually put a photo of Aunt Maggie he asked Karen to be there too. 🥺