#and lets just say that i think dutch may be a beautiful princess with a disorder

[ofghostsandmen]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 4

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i think dutch has petulant and impulsive bpd where his fps were hosea and arthur and after hosea was killed dutch internally latched more strongly to arthur which is why he immediately starts getting angry with him when arthur shows the slightest bit of disobedience because hes splitting and hahahahaha yeah but you guys arent ready for that conversation

[oscpaistry]

can u write shy reader having her first time with virgil? like he’s all soft and always making sure she’s okay and she wants to do it? please 💓💓

Im so happy someone finally requested a Virgil smut/fic!

Your relationship was fresh, not having alot of intimate interactions together. You were sitting on Virgil's lap and kissing him slow, but deep. Moaning into each others mouth's. You grind on Virgil. You wanted to do it. Go full on and have sex with him. That would be the first time. Except from the times he ate you out or fingerd you. But today was the day.

His hands find your hips and gently rock them back and forth. You stop and look into his beautiful eyes.

"Virgil..." You said and sighed. Trying to build up the confidence to say it.

"Whats wrong? Did i do something wrong? Im sorry." He said while you laughed at his reply.

"No you did nothing wrong! I, i want to do ride you. Tonight." You whispered almost to yourself. He didnt answer. You look up and see a smile on his face and his eyes wide open. But still a soft spot in his face.

"Are you sure? Are you ready? Not to boost my ego but im really big. I dont know if you could handle it." He said while he felt himself getting harder thinking about you riding him.

"If we are slow, i can handle it." You said while cupping his face and give him a tender kiss on the lips, his hands tugging on the hem on your shirt.

"May i?" He said while breaking the kiss. You nod and he took off your shirt. You sat shirtless on his lap. You always felt insecure with your other boyfriends, but with Virgil. He made you feel special and loved. He always cared about your feelings and made you feel like a princess.

"Gorgeous girl, what a pretty girl." He praised you and you felt yourself heating up. You smiled and hid your face in your palm if your hands.

"Dont hide your pretty little face, i want to see your flustered face." Virgil said while taking your hands into his hands. You smiled and removed yourself from his lap. You asked him to remove his sweater and pants. He sat there in his boxers. While he looked at you, you began to kiss his chest, then his abs and then just above his waistband. You look up and asked him to remove his boxers. His dick sprung out and slapped against his stomach. He let out a low groan.

You took off your panties, Virgil's stare burning into your body. You went back onto his lap.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Are you okay with this?" He asked in a worried tone. You really dont deserve such a kind man. You nod at him and grab his shaft and stroke it for a few seconds.

Then you line yourself up with his shaft and slowly go down. His hands finding you hips and grabbing them as if you were going to break in half if he let go. You stoped for a few seconds and let a few breathy moans out. He asked if you were okay and u just nod. You slowly go down, now having him fully buried into you.

He started to rock your hips back and forth. You obeyed and rocked with him. He let go. Groaning and praising you.

"Am i doing this right?" You asked with a insecure tone in your voice.

"Mhm, just like that baby. You're doing amazing." He replied and started to squeeze your thighs. You started to go faster. Your hands on his chest. Then he grabbed one of you tit and started to squeeze it lightly.

"Jezus, alsjeblieft." He moaned. His beautiful dutch sending you to the edge. But still able to go on for a little while. ( Jezus, please.)

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. His eye were locked on your pleasured face.

"Does my good girl like it?" He asked.

"I love it daddy" you moaned out.

That one word was enough for Virgil to buck his hips into you take over. The room filling up with pornographic moans and skin slapping sounds. His feet digging into the mattress and his hands on your ass. He went a little bit more rougher but still gentle. Not wanting to hurt you.

"Call me daddy on more time and ill cum inside of you." He groaned out. Your back arching and your boobs in his face. He started to suck in your nipple. Biting on them gently.

"Daddy, please. Im gonna cum." You moaned out and let go. That was it for Virgil. He let out a loud moan, eyes glued shut, head lulled back and toes curled. You felt his seed deep inside of you. Both of your cum mixing together as Virgil slowed his actions.

He finally stopped and let you rest on his body. He felt your thighs trembling and started to get worried.

"Was that good? Was i too rough? Im sorry." He asked and rubbed your back.

"It was amazing. I loved it. I even loved it more when you started to get rough." You replied with a few shallow breaths. You finally got your strength back and lifted yourself up to see Virgil's face.

You pecked a kiss on his lips.

"Lets get cleaned up, were a mess." He giggled. He picked you up in a bridal position and took you up to the bathroom.

"You can let go, baby. I can stand." You reassured him. He let you go and let his hands go to your hips. Seeing if you really could stand on your own.

He let go and let the bathtub fill up with warm water. He took a face cloth and two towels.

When the bathtub was full he took your hand and both of you went into the bathtub. He sat behind you and took the face cloth. He dipped it into the water and went to your sensitive core. You started to gently clean you. You let out a few gasps but then relaxed against his body. You slowly closed you eyes and fell asleep.

Im gonna leave it there bcs im tired. Its 2:41 am🤭. I got some help of a very special person! Thank you!🫶🏼

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace -

Chapter 1:  And That Is When Everything Changed...

OK so this is my “origins” story, so to speak, where it all begins. This is the intro to my OC / reader character. In my mind, as I envision and write for it, her name is Ellsbeth Monroe. She is loosely based on Merida from Brave; awkward and mouthy, too smart for her own good sometimes. She is sarcastic and always says what’s on her mind, getting herself into trouble more often than not. She comes from a good family, but doesn’t always play the part of “high-society” too well. She’s not a “Disney princess” perfect beauty, either. Pretty in her own way. 

When I write my stuff, I have “Ellsbeth” in mind, but I write it as second person/reader perspective as I feel that perspective just immerses a reader so intimately. 

**This is also a rather long one. I didn’t want to break it up, as I wasn’t sure where to do it, or if the events could stand on their own as a cohesive story. Hope some of you like it...enjoy!

Summary:  Arthur is out on a scout when he comes across a woman in need and brings her to the camp.

Warnings: Mentions of assault (certainly not in graphic detail), hanging of a character, allusion to racial discourse (again, certainly not in graphic detail), medical scenario (I am not a medical professional, just did a little research)

Next Chapter

*This image is gifted to me by @namesaretomainstream

Once in a lifetime, you meet someone who changes everything...

   He kneels in the soft earth, hidden in the brush and trees, silently watching. His eyes are slightly squinted, as they roam over the homestead laid out in front of him. Arthur makes no sudden moves, no nervous twitching of any kind. He is ever so patient to wait. To look at him, one would think he simply wandered onto the property and was taking a rest. Arthur may act like he doesn't notice things, but in reality, he sees everything. The homestead that he is scouting belongs to a Mr. Calvin Dent, a rich importer who recently moved into the area. He was in town about a week ago, boasting of his "highly successful business" and how Rock Springs was "damn lucky he'd come here to bring proper commerce to the area". The arrogance of some people really is surprising sometimes. While his pretension may have instilled envy with some folks, it also made him a target. Trewlany happen to be in Rock Springs at the time, and upon hearing of a new mark, of course he made sure to let Dutch and the gang know of such an opportunity.

   And so here Arthur found himself, scouting out a rich man's house with no idea of what, if anything, is inside. He's been out for several days already over this:  a full day's ride out from camp and then two days watching. If this guy is truly as important as he said he is, there's no telling what Arthur is going to run into. Maybe Mr. Dent has guards that follow him everywhere. Maybe he has attack dogs. Or maybe he takes zero precautions and is a total idiot. Nothing surprises Arthur anymore. But its his caution that has kept him alive all these years. So Arthur will sit and wait as long as he needs to.

   But as luck would have it, Arthur overhears Mr. Dent talking to a subordinate about how they need to go into town for a meeting at the bank. They need to hurry and go and get back to the house as his family is due in, traveling from the East, to join him here outside of Rock Springs. They are traveling by train so Dent needs to finish his business dealings with the bank and get over to the station before they arrive. Arthur smiles at this news. If everyone is leaving the house, that means no bloodshed or even contact to worry about. So he bides his time, waiting for Mr. Dent and his associate to leave.

   Once the men leave the property, Arthur carefully emerges from the wood-line, making his way to the barn first. He leads his horse, Buck, around to the back of it, tying him there to wait. With the horse close and easily accessible, yet hidden from view, Arthur slowly makes his way to the house. He's been watching and listening for two days, so he's sure there is no one else here with Mr. Dent and his assistant gone, but you can never be too careful. Popping out a windowpane on the back door, he reaches in to unlock it and lets himself into the house. He takes a scan of the floor plan, and quickly finds Mr. Dent's office. Making a beeline for it, Arthur starts to dig around. But he doesn't find any money of real significance, just a few dollars, which he pockets. He does find a ledger with a delivery schedule, though. Flipping through a few pages, he tears some out and puts them in his satchel. Maybe they can follow it for some robberies later on. With nothing else in this room, Arthur decides to try the bedroom.

   He makes his way down the short hallway and rounds the banister to head up the staircase. Arthur's heavy footfalls ring out of place in such a decadent house as this. He runs his dirty and calloused hands along the handrail as he ascends, noting the smoothness of the varnished wood. He raises his eyes to look upon the paintings and the delicate sconce fixtures along the walls and on the tabletops where oil lamps and candles sit to light the way when nighttime falls. When he reaches the top of the stairs, he proceeds to move through the upstairs living area, cautiously popping his head into each room making sure all is clear. He eventually makes his way and finds the master bedroom. Upon entering, he arches an eyebrow as he sighs heavily in annoyance. In the center of the room is an enormous 4-post bed, with lavish tapestries hanging from the corners. Giant, fluffy pillows and thick blankets adorn the mattress. "Some people live such different lives," Arthur shakes his head. He's never even slept in a bed like this for an hour, let alone done it ever night.

   He looks about and sees what he's been looking for:  a safe. A mischievous smirk crosses the outlaw's face as he strides over to it, crouching down before the lock. He tilts his head to the side, studying it. Its too large for him to lift and carry out, so he'll have to crack the lock here. Arthur hasn't been playing with the thing too long before he hears voices. He freezes, holding motionless as he waits for another sign of some kind. And then he hears it again: voices clear as day. Shit, they're back already?! He quickly and quietly stands and walks to the window to see Mr. Dent and, what Arthur assumes to be, his family; a woman and three children, riding in a wagon, talking loud enough to alert any living thing in the vicinity of their presence. Apparently they arrived early and were already on their way to the house, meeting Mr. Dent on the road before he even made it to town.

   Before he can think of what to do, Dent's wife and children quickly walk up the steps of the front porch and into the house, trapping Arthur upstairs. He swiftly crosses the room to silently close the door to the space that he currently occupies, then makes his way back to the window. Mr. Dent is still outside talking to his associate. Arthur is waiting for Dent to enter the house as well before he can climb out the window to make his escape, and needing him to do so before his wife or children make it up the stairs and find Arthur hiding there. Arthur's heart is racing as he really had no intention of roughing anyone up today, and certainly not in front of children. He turns his head towards the sounds of footsteps on the staircase down the hall, then back to the window. The second he sees Dent and the other man walk into the house, Arthur has the window open and climbs out onto the roof top. He just barely makes it out before he hears the children plain as day, just feet from him on the other side of the wall. The little ones burst into the room and begin jumping up and down on the fancy bed. With what he hopes is enough of a distraction, Arthur climbs down the side of the house, using the rose trellis as a make-shift ladder. "I'm gettin' too old for this shit," he mutters to himself as he hastily climbs down.

   As his feet hit the dirt, he presses his back to the house, staying out of sight for a few moments. When he's sure its safe to move unseen, he darts behind the barn to where his horse is still waiting for him. "C'mon, boy, time to go," he whispers as he mounts the horse and quickly leads him to the wood-line, escaping being caught. Arthur spurs Buck into a canter, pushing him further away from the homestead. After checking over his shoulder a few times, he's confident that he is not being followed and finally allows himself to relax.

   "It's always somethin'", Arthur mumbles, lighting a cigarette and hastily tossing the match to the ground. His face twists into an annoyed frown. Micah was supposed to run this job. But no, he had better things to do. Or so he convinced Dutch. Arthur takes a long drag off of his cigarette as he mulls over the newest member of their gang. Arthur is not too impressed with Micah Bell. Although, he is good with a gun. That, Arthur will give him credit for, at least. But as far as everything else is concerned, Arthur just doesn't think he measures up. But Dutch seems to like him, so they're all stuck with him for now. So good ol' trusty Arthur was sent out on this job instead. Like a god damned obedient dog. Damn it.

   Arthur decides he's had enough, as he tosses the empty cigarette butt to the ground, and its time to head back to camp. He sticks to the woods, rather than the roads. Its an occupational habit. He'd be home sooner if he followed the road, but he's also more exposed, too. He isn't too far along when he hears screaming. Arthur instantly freezes, his hand instinctively goes to the revolver on his hip. Squinting his eyes and scanning his surroundings, he waits for the sound of gunfire, horses, or some other sign of an oncoming attack that usually follows such an alarming sound, but it never comes. Instead, he hears the screaming again, this time louder and much more urgent. Its a woman. And unfortunately, due to the nature of it, Arthur fears the worst.

   He kicks the side of his horse, spurring him into motion towards the sound. Arthur races through the trees and brush of the woods, and it doesn't take him long to find the source. He comes up through the grove and finds four men with a woman pinned to the ground. Two of them each have an arm of hers, holding her in place, a third has himself positioned between her legs. The fourth is standing off to the side, arms crossed and smugly watching the disgusting scene. Arthur's stomach lurches and turns at the very sight of it. His vision turns red and things slow down to a crawl in his mind’s eye. The woman is screaming desperately, trying to get these men off her as they try to muffle her, thrashing as much as her poor body can in a powerless attempt to free herself.

   As you lay there on the ground, you're trying to block out everything that's happening to you. Your senses are completely overwhelmed; your muscles ache and your thighs burn from the friction of the man looming over you. But more than anything else, its the hatred; the hatred that burns in you at the audacity of these men that they can, and will, lay their hands on you and commit such an assault. And you know these men, too. That's what is so revolting about this whole thing. "You always thought you were better than everyone else, didn't you? You're were always so damn smart, weren't you?!" Walt yells at you. Walt is the one standing off to the side.

   Suddenly, the startling sound of a gunshot and a spray of blood shocks you as the man’s eyes who is jirating above you go wide, his motions halt instantly and he slumps over to the side. "What the hell?!", you can hear Walt yelling. Another shot rings out and then another in rapid succession, and the other two men who have been holding your arms down drop instantly.  A bullet lands between each of their eyes with such precision, causing the back of their heads to explode and rain red droplets everywhere. With them now out of your line of vision, you can see the source of the gunfire. A man with the gun in question is stalking towards the lot of you at an alarming pace. Your vision is blurred from the tears in your eyes, your head is drunk with adrenaline, but you can definitely make out the look of anger that burns intensely on his face. You have no idea who he is or where he came from. Or even if he’s there to help you, for that matter. For all you know he’s getting these men out of the way to make room for himself. As the stranger stalks even closer, gun still raised and now pointed at the last man, Walt holds his hands up in surrender. "Hey...hey listen, I don't want any trouble with you. Please, mister. This doesn't concern you," stammers Walt, motioning to you as you lie on the ground still, frozen, afraid to move a muscle, yet your wide eyes dart back and forth between the two men. The stranger says nothing and shows no sign of halting, nor does he point his gun elsewhere. "She ain't worth it!" Walt yells at the stranger, starting to fidget anxiously. "Aw, c'mon..." Walt says under his breath, realizing now that the man will not be stopping. "Spare me some mercy, I'm begging you," Walt pleads in a last effort to save his worthless hide, as the mystery man is now only a few feet from him. "There ain't no mercy for your kind," the stranger says coldly. And with another echoing gunshot, Walt goes down, just feet from you, without any more hesitation and a gaping hole in his chest.

   You cover your mouth and let out a muffled scream, shocked at the sight of the men's bodies scattered about you. The stranger turns his attention from the crumpled forms before him, satisfied that they are all dead, and then finally lets his eyes fall upon you. Realizing that his attention in now fully on you, you quickly remove your hand from your mouth and scramble backwards on your hands, desperately trying to get away from the man, before finally stopping and holding your scraped-up hands out in a feeble effort to protect yourself. "No, no!!" you shriek at him. You are shaking violently now, trying to control your sobbing. Arthur hesitates slightly before he slowly holsters his gun, and raises his own hands up in surrender. He tentatively walks towards you, getting just a bit closer and crouches down to your eye level so he can get a look at you. "It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you," he says. His voice is deep and rough, but not threatening. He notices your torn blouse and ripped skirts. Your nose and mouth are bleeding from where those men back-handed you into submission. As he looks you over, the look of anger hovers over his face again, but just briefly.

   You anxiously watch him as the man slowly stands up and heads back to his horse and saddlebag to get some bandages, a canteen, and a shirt that he has wadded up in his bag. He returns and offers you the canteen first. You blink away the tears in your eyes, hesitating before you raise your shaking hand up to accept the water from him. Then he tentatively reaches over to dab the cuts on your face in an effort to clean you up. When you shrink back from his touch, he stops instantly and holds the bandage out to you, offering for you to do it on your own. Lastly, he offers the shirt. “‘M sorry, it ain’t the cleanest, but it’ll get you covered for now.” You slowly extend your hand out and nod in gratitude as you gingerly take the shirt from his grasp. You still watch the man carefully out of the corner of your eye as you push your arms through the sleeves, wincing slightly, as your body just aches all over.

"What’s your name?", Arthur asks, crouching down in front of you again.

Your head is pounding at this point so its difficult to discern that he's speaking directly to you, but you eventually process the words. "(Y/F&L/N)". You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to offer his own name in response, but he hesitates. 'Do I give her my real name?', he thinks to himself.

"Arthur Morgan". 'Dumbass' he immediately thinks to himself. He's not sure why he didn’t lie. 'You never give out your real name to a stranger', he berates himself internally. But Arthur can only guess its because you do not appear to be a threat, as he doesn't feel the necessity to lie to you. "You want to tell me what happened, here? I mean...aside from the obvious? Who were those men?"

   You look over at the bodies of the men who assaulted you. "Those men," you spit out in anger, "they chased me from Rosewood. You know, the railroad town? There was an accident there. My father..." And you halt at the mention of him. "My father is the doctor in that town. He tried to help, but when he failed to be quick enough, the damn town turned on us. And we ran. And...they most assuredly followed." Arthur was expecting more information when you stopped, unable to carry on.

   After a few moments, Arthur gently asked the question, "And where is your father now?" You don't answer him right away, trying to form the words that go with the thoughts in your head. “He’s left back a ways," your voice barely above a whisper as you stare at your hands that are now folded in your lap. You lift your eyes to meet the man's in front of you. "Can you help me? Please? I can't leave him there.” Arthur hesitates a moment. He really shouldn't get involved with this. But the sight of you in such a vulnerable state leaves him completely at your mercy. "Sure, of course," he says and proceeds to stand up. He moves towards you to offer his hand to help you up as well. Your legs burn, and your balance is wobbly at best as you stand and stumble slightly into him, grasping his forearms for support. Arthur hums to himself, thinking of what to do. He whistles for Buck, who quickly saunters over at the call. Arthur turns towards you, but he hesitates as he looks down at you. " I...uh...I’m gonna put my hands on your waist and lift you on up onto the saddle. That OK?"  The empathy he shows you seems contradictory to the initial first impression you have of him:  this large, intimidating man, who coldly shot and killed four men in minutes, without hesitation or any second guessing. You offer him a small, yet grateful smile at the consideration he displays and give him a short nod in approval. He gently places his large hands, strong as they are, on your hips, and effortlessly puts you up onto Buck's saddle before he begins to walk along with the horse from the ground.

   It doesn't take you long to walk to the tree where your father was left hanging. As soon as you see his lifeless body swaying gently in the air, it causes the memory of what happened to flood your mind two-fold. Flashes of Walt and his friends chasing the two of you down. Them grabbing your father and beating his face, locking him into a choke-hold as one of them grabs a rope. You cover your face with your hands at the thought of one of them holding you down to the ground to watch as the other three wrap the rope around your father's neck, tossing the end of it over a branch before pulling it taut, hoisting him up into the air. You begin to choke back the sobs again. Arthur stands quietly, not saying a word, giving you your moment to grieve. Eventually, he clears his throat, before silently lifting his hands up to you, helping you down from the saddle before climbing up onto the horse himself. He gently hands you his knife from his belt. "When I get under him, cut the rope and I’ll grab him." You don't say anything, gingerly taking the knife out of his hands. He nudges Buck forward, maneuvering him to stand underneath your father's body. He looks to you then, and you begin to slice at the rope. The tension of the bond snaps and Arthur quickly grabs your father. The man’s lifeless body is carefully draped across the front of the saddle and he walks his horse a few steps away from the tree.

   "Where do you want to bury him, miss?" Arthur poses the question to you, but as you open your mouth, your mind goes blank. You simply stare at your father's body, blinking back the tears that continually form in your eyes, unable to answer. "How 'bout right here, then? Under the tree?" he offers. "Its a nice shady spot. Kinda quiet an' all." You sniffle slightly and nod in agreement, reaching up to wipe your cheek. "Alright then," he says quietly. Arthur dismounts from Buck, rubbing his hands together as he tries to think of how to do this. All that he has on him that he can possibly use to dig a grave with is his hatchet. He carefully bends to set his shoulder under your father's chest and pulls him from the saddle. He walks back towards the tree with your father over his shoulder before he gingerly bows to lay him on the ground. He turns, walking back to the horse, and pulls his hatchet from the saddlebag. Coming back, he kneels alongside your father's body and begins to hack at the ground with the hatchet. Fortunately, the ground is soft and gives easily. After watching for a few moments, you pull yourself out of your own fog, continuing to wipe the tears from your cheek and join Arthur on the ground. You slowly use your own hands to pull away the dirt that he's pulled up. You both work in silence, and it doesn't take long before the two of you have dug a decent sized hole to lay your father in. You gently lay him out and fold his hands over his chest, before taking one last look at the man's face. "What was his name?" Arthur asks you. "Andrew", you reply quietly. Sadly, you begin to pull the dirt back into the hole and over your father, finally laying him to rest. Arthur helps you to collect and place a ring of rocks around the mound, and as you whisper a few last prayers and say your good-bye, Arthur places a cross at the top of the grave that he's fashioned by lashing two sticks together with some bits of rope he had tucked away in his saddlebag. You look over at it as he pushes it into the soft earth and notice that he's used his knife to carve your father's initials into the center post.

   With the task completed, Arthur kneels across from you, studying you for a moment as you sit staring at the fresh grave, grasping the loose dirt in your fist. "Can I take you somewhere, Miss (Y/L/N)? You got anywhere to go? Any family?" he asks you. You shake your head, but your eyes do not leave your father's grave. "No. No family. It was just me and him." You both go silent for a few moments more. Arthur sighs. "You should come back with me, then, back to my camp. You can't stay here by yourself. If I leave you here, you’ll die, I'm certain of it." You finally break your vacant stare and force yourself to look up at Arthur, confused like you've finally just noticed him there. Before you can answer, he adds "Fair warning, though, we aren’t on the right side of the law. But, we’re better than those other asses I found you with, that's for sure." You sit and ponder his proposal for a moment. What choice do you really have at this point? "OK. If you think that will be alright. Thank you, Mr. Morgan," is all that you can say in reply.

   The two of you travel for the next few hours in silence. You're sitting on the back of the horse, behind Arthur, watching the scenery slowly pass you by. You have no idea where he's taking you, and to be honest, you really don't care at this point. The further away from Rosewood you get, the better as far as you're concerned. Eventually, the sun starts to set and you can feel the temperature starting to drop, the dampness of the coming evening starting to be evident.

   "You doin' OK back there?", Arthur asks, turning his head over his shoulder slightly. "You been pretty quiet for awhile, now." "Mmm Hmm...I'm alright. Just...thinking, I guess." "We should start looking for a place to bed-down for the night," Arthur says. "I'll make sure we're outta sight well enough. You'll be OK as long as you stay close to the fire." "Sure. Whatever you think," you reply simply. You are completely at this man's mercy and you know it. You are not in a position to challenge anything that he suggests, so your intent is to amicably go along with whatever his plan is...within reason, of course.

   Arthur finds a quiet spot tucked along the treeline, facing an open field. The large, thick branches of the trees provide adequate shelter from any weather the two of you may encounter, as well as a screen against anyone who may happen to travel past. Arthur hooks his arm around yours as he easily lowers you to the ground before swinging his own leg over and down. Walking towards the front of Buck, he gently begins to stroke the horse's graceful neck, patting him gently before he looks over at you. "I'll get a fire goin' if you want to pull down the bedroll and blanket and get it all laid out." "OK", you absent-mindedly answer and go about the motions to fulfill the simple instructions he's given you.

   It doesn't take Arthur long to get a nice flame going for the two of you. You sit down on the bedroll that you laid out, warming your hands over the fire, shivering slightly with the chill now coming into the on-coming night air. He effortlessly lifts the saddle and its blanket off of his horse, laying it next to the fire for himself. But before he sits down, Arthur walks over and picks up the blanket that goes with the bedroll and drops it over your shoulders. "Here, keep this around you and stick close to the fire." "Thank you," you say with a slight smile as you pull the fabric closer to you. "I’m gonna go try to find a rabbit or something for us to eat," he informs you. You nod soundlessly in acknowledgement. He then extends his arm out to you, and in his hand is a gun, trying to offer it to you. "Know how to use one of these?" You nod again, but don't move to take it from him. He pauses briefly, as he looks at the gun, then proceeds to set it down next to you on the blanket. When he straightens back up, he looks down at you for a moment. You look so tired, so defeated, causing him to sigh to himself. "I won’t be too far off. You need me, you holler, understand?" "OK." And you watch him turn and walk off into the woods. Your eyes linger on his form until it disappears into the greenery before you pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and set your chin upon your knee. You sigh heavily, staring first into the fire, then off into the distance over the meadow, letting your mind begin to unwind itself.

   Arthur manages to find a few rabbits relatively quick, bringing them back to your small camp. He promptly skins and roasts them over the fire, looking over at you every so often. He notices how you keep staring into the flames of the fire, lethargically blinking as if in a trance. But, he leaves you to your thoughts for now. Arthur, of all people, knows the necessity to be in one's own head. As the meat sizzles quietly, he gingerly pulls pieces of it off the stick he's using to cook it on and offers some to you, but you shake your head, declining. "C'mon, you gotta eat somethin'. Ain’t gonna do you no good to get sick on top of everything else," he gently reprimands you. You really have no appetite at all, but you reluctantly take a hunk of the meat from his hand, smiling slightly at him in thanks.

   "So," he says tentatively, as he sets himself down onto the saddle-blanket from his horse. "All this commotion over some accident, huh? What happened? If you don't mind me askin'." You shift your weight a bit as you pull the blanket even tighter around yourself before answering him. "They were blasting a path into the hillside to make room for the new track to be laid out. Apparently the charges weren't laid right. A lot of men were injured. My father and I tried to help as many as we could. Like I said before, my father was the doctor there, I was his assistant and fellow doctor, I guess you could say. Walt's brother, that's the last man you shot, was hurt pretty bad in the explosion. But my father was tending to another man. That man has a family with 4 children, the youngest is barely 2 months old. He is also a black man." You look over at Arthur with a knowing look, to which he rolls his eyes, sighing slightly in annoyance as he gets your meaning. "Walt's brother died before my father could tend to him. So Walt flew into a rage that my father would “let his brother die” over this other man. Well, it just escalated and got worse from there." You pause as you replay it all over again in your mind. "Walt instigated a riot, cornering my father and I. They were beating him, hitting him so hard." You winced at the memory of it. "Next thing I know, we were both running, a group of men on our heels. I actually thought we were going to outrun them. But Walt and his cronies found a way to cut us off. And....well, you know the rest."

   Arthur shakes his head. "Your father sounds like a good man," he offers, looking over at you. "He was the best," you reply with a small grin on your lips. Arthur is in deep thought for moment. "I'm truly sorry for your loss, Miss (Y/L/N)," he says to you. You look at him for a moment or two before dropping your eyes to land on the fire again. "Why are you helping me, Mr. Morgan?" you finally ask him, your voice soft and frail. Arthur breathes in and exhales deeply, now his turn to stare into the fire, thinking. "There are few things that will push me to anger like that. I don’t take kindly to men who beat up on women or children." Arthur's voice is low and steady, absolute. You study his face as he tells you this, his eyes still on the flames in front of him. You obviously don't know him well at all, but you just know that his statement is fact.

   It's dark now and your eyes are suddenly incredibly heavy. Seeing that you are about to fall asleep sitting up, Arthur encourages you to turn in for the night. "You take the blanket and try to get some sleep, alright?" "What about you?," you ask him, concern skipping across your face. "Won't you be cold? How are you going to sleep?" "I’ll just lean back against my saddle here (as he shuffles himself back into the leather, crossing his arms over his chest), pull my hat on down and let the fire keep me warm." "Are you sure?" you ask, not completely convinced. "Oh yeah. Besides, I want you to get some rest, so I’ll be up keeping watch over you 'til morning." Arthur motions with his hand for you to lay down, so you slowly lower yourself down, curling your arm under your head as a pillow. You lay there watching the fire for a bit, observing how the flames dance and pour themselves over the wood buried within. Their patterns are hypnotic and the crackling of the fire is soothing to your nerves. Eventually you glance up to the outlaw sitting a few feet from you, slightly surprised to see that he is already dozing quietly. You watch his chest gently rise and fall with his even breathing. You are now finally able to study him without fear of being caught doing so. He is a rather large, bear-like man, tall and barrel-chested. His beard is rather overgrown and his hair is overdue for a cut. His clothes are stained with dirt, even before he dug your father's grave, so you can only assume he's been out here for awhile. But judging by the calloused hands and how quickly he's fallen asleep, you can only imagine how hard his life must be, regardless of the nature of it, good or bad. And despite the fact that he's fallen asleep before you, you have no doubt that he'll be up again soon enough to keep his word to look after you through the night. So you allow yourself to finally relax and fall into a deep slumber, letting the blissfulness of oblivion overtake you.

   In the morning Arthur is slow to wake. As he feels consciousness wash over him, he stretches his legs out and rolls his neck. An all too familiar popping sound comes from his stiff joints. He groans slightly as he rubs the sore muscles of his neck. Drawing his hand over his face as if in an effort to literally drag the sleep away, he opens his eyes and eventually looks over to the bedroll where you are asleep. But his eyes do not find you there. Confused, he looks around for you. Its still relatively dark out, the sun still yet to rise. A slight panic sets in and he bolts upright. Damn it, he shouldn't have fallen asleep, he tells himself. He stands up, brushing off his jeans and looks about again, turning himself around and stepping away from the treeline towards the meadows behind him. Arthur doesn't get too far when he finally sees you, standing out in the clearing, the blanket pulled around you, watching the sunrise. Arthur sighs in relief, hand over his mouth. Suddenly, he stops his fidgeting for a moment. Why was he so panicked over you just now? You're nothing to him; a stranger he's only known for a few hours. In fact, if he was smart, he'd have taken you to the nearest town and left you there. But for whatever reason, that just didn't occur to him at the time.

   He walks into the clearing, tentatively approaching you, clearing his throat as he gets close to you. When you do not respond to him, he stretches his neck, trying to see your face. You don't move, your eyes fixed on the lightening skyline. It hardly seems like you're even breathing. The darkness is retreating quickly as the sun is now coming over the horizon. The early dawn light falls upon your face, casting it with a warm glow. Flecks of copper from the rising sun are reflecting in your eyes which are vacant, as if focusing on something else altogether. Arthur doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t feel he needs to, actually. And for this you are grateful. You know he is standing there, knew the moment he started towards you. You are grateful for his presence, for his protection and for his understanding for your need for peace and quiet in this moment. And Arthur finds standing quietly with you oddly comforting in return. And then finally you speak.

   "This is my favorite time of day, when its so peaceful. This is the time of day when anything is possible, Mr. Morgan. Good or bad, the day hasn't been decided yet. A blank slate." Your voice is even and quiet, a peaceful tone to it. "This is when everything changes." You continue to stare ahead at the sun, its red and orange hues now spilling over the grasses. Arthur looks at you, pondering your words before he turns his head back to follow the path of your gaze. "For example, you could be a horrible man, Mr. Morgan. No better than those you found me with. Or, you could be the merciful fellow with the beautiful eyes who saved my life and gave me a new one. Anything is possible as of this very moment." You finally turn your face from the horizon and look at him, a calm smile drawn across your lips. He picks up no sense of fear or hesitation from you. In fact, its been a long, long time since anyone looked at him the way you are right now. Kindness, respect? Arthur's chest tightens just a bit at the thought of this. You don't know his horrible background, don't know of all of the terrible things that he's done. You're innocent of his tendencies, and honestly, this makes Arthur nervous. How would you react if you knew who, and what, he truly is? Yet still, there’s something about you that he just can't shake.

   "Look, Miss (Y/L/N)," he starts warily. "I gotta warn you, my gang, we ain’t exactly saints. I’ve done some bad things, evil things, in my life." You look at him for a moment, studying his blue-green eyes and the conflicted emotions harbored there within. "Good and evil, Mr. Morgan, you can’t have one without the other." You cross your arms over your chest, tucking the blanket inwards to ward off the morning chill, and turn to face him directly now. "So tell me, what exactly is it that you and your people do?"

"We rob."

"I see. Is this a 'Robin Hood' situation where you rob the rich and give to the poor?"

"If by 'the poor' you mean us, then yes," he says dryly. And then he looks down at his boots, kicking a bit of dirt with his toe. "But we don’t steal from anyone who can’t afford it."

"And who decides who can afford it?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"We do."

"I see," you say again, with a smirk.

Suddenly Arthur is slightly embarrassed to admit his lifestyle for some reason, yet at the same time, you don’t make him feel badly about it either. "It’s up to you. You still want to come back to my camp?"  

"You’ll be there with me, right?"

"Sure."

"Then OK."

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

   You sit atop of Arthur's horse, Buck, gingerly setting your hands about his waist so as to not fall off. He doesn't speak much, to your relief. Your mind is both cluttered full, yet void of any coherent thought. You have no idea what your future holds now. You don't know this man that you are riding with, yet trust him enough to leave with him to join his "gang" as he refers to them. Although, what choice do you really have? He gives you the rundown of the dynamics of the group, how they are known as the "Van Der Linde Gang", a collection of misfits and thieves, run by a man named Dutch. He doesn't go into too much specific detail, but you can tell by the way he talks about them that he holds these people close. The whole ride back to his camp, you're mulling the situation over and over again in your head. You're hoping you've made the right decision. When you think about it, if this man was going to kill you, he would've done so already, wouldn't he?

   Its late in the morning at this point, and as you are lost in your own head, you do not notice that you have entered a clearing and start to see evidence of other people. You've arrived. As Arthur's horse saunters into the camp, you look about and notice the inhabitants. Heads turn and eyes are on you, as they are curious about the new arrival. He leads Buck up alongside some other horses and halts. He swings his leg over the front of the saddle and drops down to the ground before he turns back around to face you. He looks up, lifting up his arms, offering you both his hands. You stare back at him for a second, slightly hesitant. He makes a slight motion toward you, letting you know its OK, before you lean forward, allowing him to place his large hands onto your hips as he carefully lifts you down from the saddle. Your feet touch down softly, as Arthur gently places you on the ground. Your own hands linger on his forearms for just a moment, almost afraid to be released from his security, before a modest "thank you" leaves your lips.

   "C'mon. Let's get you settled," he says as he starts to lead you towards the center of the tents and tables. His left arm extends outward in front of you to show you the way, while his right bends to corral you forward. He's careful not to touch you, yet you still feel it is a protective gesture all-around. Arthur's attention lands on a small group of people who are standing off in front of the two of you, deep in conversation. Three of them to be exact.

   As you approach them, you take in their appearances. Two men and a woman, all three clearly older than either of you or Arthur. The oldest of them is a silver-haired gentleman, tall and slender, smartly dressed. He's lean with sharp blue eyes, yet there's a calmness to him. The other man appears to be a bit younger, with black hair, trimmed mustache and an intimidating presence that you can see, even from this distance. You can't make out what he's saying from where you are, but you can hear his voice and its most captivating. The woman he is talking to appears to be about his age, standing with her arms crossed over her chest. She has a harsh demeanor about her, clearly able to hold her own with these two men. Suddenly, you are very nervous and fall behind Arthur's step just a bit, creeping slightly closer to him as if seeking his protection again.

   "Good, you're all together. I need to talk to you 'bout somethin'" Arthur announces as you both approach the small cluster. All three faces turn to look first at Arthur, then to you, before returning back to Arthur in confusion. "What have we here?" asks the dark-haired gentleman, pointing at you with a hand that holds a cigar. "This is Miss Y/L/N," says Arthur gesturing to you. "She's gonna be stayin' with us for a bit. Hope that ain't gonna be a problem." The three of them stare at you for a second, trying to process what has just been told to them. "Miss Y/L/N, this is Hosea," Arthur motions to the silver-haired man, "and Ms. Grimshaw. And this here is Dutch. He's the one runnin' this here show," nodding to the dark-haired man. You smile at them in an attempt of a greeting.

There is an awkward silence and after a few moments, its Ms. Grimshaw who breaks the stillness. "What the hell is this, Arthur? Another mouth to feed?", asks the older woman, clearly annoyed by being caught off-guard and faced with this new challenge presented to her.

Arthur rolls his eyes at her. "We'll just add another cup of water to the soup and we'll all eat," he says. When he realizes that his answer will not satisfy her, he sighs in resignation. "Fine, she can have my ration if that makes you happy.”

"And what about space? I don’t have another tent right now," she complains sharply.

“She can have mine for now.”

"And just where are you going to sleep, then?" she counters quickly, planting her hands firmly on her hips.

"By the fire, like I do when I'm out. Look, what difference does it make?" Arthur bites back. You don't know him that well, but it sounds like he's starting to get annoyed.

"Look, if I may," you interject as you finally find your voice and step up to fully stand next to Arthur now. "I don't want to be a burden to you folks. And, I have no intention of sitting idly by and letting other people take care of me. I certainly want to earn my keep, if you would be so kind as to let me stay here. At least until I figure out what my next step is. I can cook, I can clean, I sew and launder..."

"Can you use a gun?" interrupts Dutch, who has decided to speak. You pause for a moment, looking over at him. "Not to the capacity that you are thinking," you tell him, "but I can hunt. I'm quite good, actually. So I'm not fast, but I am accurate with a gun."

"We can work with that," he says with a smirk, placing his lit cigar into his mouth.

   "But what I think you will find most useful, Mr. Van Der Linde, is that I am a doctor. I'm sure in your line of work, you can see the benefit of that. Most towns don't even have their own doctor, yet you will have one at your fingertips." Dutch raises an eyebrow at you and turns to Hosea. The two men share a look before turning to you with doubt in their eyes. It is not common for women to be in the medical profession so for you to claim to be a doctor is rather hard to believe. You lift your chin up a bit in defiance, tired of having to justify this claim yet again. "My father is...was...a well respected doctor. He was the chief physician at the local hospital back home in the East and also taught at the university. So he started my education at a young age. While most men start their medical training in their 20's, I have been studying medicine since I was 9 years old, and educated by one of the best in the field." Your voice is getting firmer now as you continue, as speaking proudly of your father has you finding your confidence again. "The only thing I don't have is a damn piece of paper that tells you so. So when I tell you that I am a doctor, Mr. Van Der Linde, you had better believe it." Arthur cringes a bit at your brashness. He's not too sure how his people will take to an "outsider" speaking to them in such a manner.

"I already look after the people here," Ms. Grimshaw barks out irritably. "If anyone needs tending to, I take care of it."

   You look over at her now. The two men may be the ones in charge, but its this woman who actually runs the camp itself. You can tell that right away. If you are going to be allowed to stay, you're going to need her on your side. She's the one you need to make nice with. "I don’t want to assume any authority, Ms. Grimshaw, nor do I want to over-step," you try to assure her. "But if I can take some of the burden off of you, specifically the medical care, that could free you up to do the hundreds of other things that I'm sure need your constant attention around here. I can't even begin to imagine what it takes to keep a group like this going, but you've clearly been on top of it," you say turning and looking around the rest of the camp for the first time. "I imagine keeping a group of this caliber together is like herding a box of kittens," you say with a slight smile, looking back to her again. To your relief, Ms. Grimshaw's brows suddenly soften a bit and with a chuckle, she replies "Girl, you have no idea." The men have been silent during this entire exchange between you two, letting Ms. Grimshaw feel this situation out. 'Damn,' Arthur thinks to himself. 'This is some 'Hosea Matthews' style sweet-talking at its best coming from her.' After pondering on you a bit longer, she finally relents, throwing her hand up in defeat. "Alright. If you want her to stay, Arthur, then she's your responsibility."

"Miss Y/L/N, we are not angels here, just so you know," warns Dutch.

As you turn your eyes back to the man, you tilt your head, considering his statement. "No one ever expects an angel to set the world on fire, now do they, Mr Van Der Linde?"

"I like this one," says Hosea, nodding in approval with a smile. Suddenly you feel like a cocker-spaniel puppy that just got adopted.

"We done here, then?" asks Arthur. Dutch lifts his hands up in a surrender motion. "Alright, then," says Arthur before turning to you. "C'mon I'll show you where you'll be stayin'" You nod a "thank you" to the three heads of the camp and turn to follow Arthur. You let out a breath that you didn't realize that you were holding and wring your hands a little to try to get feeling back into them as you now notice they are numb from your nervousness.

   "Well, that went better than I thought it would," he says to you as you walk through the camp. "Really? That went well?" you ask in disbelief. "You're here still ain't you", he counters. Arthur leads you over towards a wagon with a tent pitched over it that is far off in the corner, further away from the others. The tent sides are rolled up so you can see inside as you approach. "Well...uh...this is it,' he says. "It ain't much, but it'll keep you dry and out of the elements." He waives his hand around in an effort to show you about. You look around at his humble surroundings and smile. "Its perfect, thank you," you say to him. "Oh I certainly don't know about that," he chuckles, bringing his hand to rub the back of his neck. All of a sudden, Arthur realizes that, now that he has you here, he's not quite sure what to do with you. Normally Ms. Grimshaw would handle this, but considering the previous exchange, he thinks twice about that. "Listen, sit here and relax a minute. I'll be back." He nods at you, and quickly turns to leave the tent.

   You watch the man walk away, leaving you by yourself for the first time since you left Rosewood, and you suddenly feel very exposed and vulnerable. You walk over to the tent flaps where Arthur was just standing and look out into the rest of the camp. As you watch the inhabitants milling about, occasionally you notice eyes turn your way, causing you to shrink back a bit into the shadows of the tent. Taking a deep and shaky breath, you casually look around Arthur's space. They are simple surroundings, nothing fancy. There's a cot with a single blanket, a trunk set at the foot, and there's a bedside table next to the cot. Walking over to it, you notice a framed photo sitting on top. You pick it up and see that it is of Arthur as a young man. "I'd recognize those eyes anywhere," you chuckle. He is sitting with a beautiful young woman, too. "Hmmm, I wonder who you are, Pretty." Setting the photo back down, your eyes lift to the side of the wagon where Arthur has things pinned to the wood. Walking closer, you notice the photo of him with the other two men you have just met, but all much younger. "So, you've been together a long time, huh? Maybe one is his father?" you wonder out loud. Next to the photo are sketches also pinned to the wagon wall. Images of landscapes, beautifully drawn horses, faces of people who must be important to him. As you look down at the table opposite the cot, you see a few pencils carefully laid out and realize that the sketches must have been done by Arthur himself. Something about that makes you smile to yourself a bit. A few books also lay upon the table, along with maps and ledgers. You slowly walk back over to the cot and lower yourself down onto it, letting your muscles relax and deeply breath in and out again, waiting for Arthur to return.

   In the meantime, Arthur makes his way back through the camp and over to the common tables. There, he finds the person he's been looking for: Abigail. "Hey, Abigail. Got a minute?" The woman turns her head towards the voice calling her name. "Well, hey there Arthur! I heard you have a new friend," she chuckles. "A woman, no less." "Uh, yeah...about that,' he replies awkwardly. "Look, I need your help with somethin'."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, the girl's been through the wringer. She's been roughed up, her clothes torn up a bit. I was wonderin' if you or the other girls had any clothes that you could let her borrow for now?"

"Roughed up? You mean...?"

"Yeah" and he drops his head down, not meeting Abigail's gaze.

"Oh, that's awful. I'm sorry Arthur."

"Don't apologize to me. Didn't happen to me," he shakes his head. "Anyway, I was also hoping maybe you could go talk to her, look after her for a bit, and get her acquainted with things here?"

"Yeah, sure Arthur."  

"Maybe in a day or so, after she gets settled here, one of you girls can take her into town, get her some new clothes?"

"We ain't got extra money for that, Arthur," says Abigail, frowning at him, a little annoyed.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry. I'll give you the money, you just worry about gettin' her there, alright?" he says dismissively. "Besides I think you owe me a favor by now."

"Yeah, probably two or three at this point, I reckon." Abigail sighs, straightening out her skirt absentmindedly with her hands before giving Arthur a small smile of resignation. "Alright, fine. I'll go talk to her." Arthur simply nods in thanks and turns towards Dutch's tent. Now that he's back in camp, and has gotten you looked after, he needs to talk to Dutch about the scout at the Dent house that he was on and turn in the bit of cash and pages from the delivery ledger that he was able to grab.

   Back at Arthur's tent, you're still sitting on the edge of the cot. Leaning over, you hold your face in your hands, exhausted and overwhelmed. With your eyes closed, your welcome the darkness and the calm it brings. The scent of the grass and leaves at your feet, mixed with leather and cigarettes from the tent, fills your nose, keeping you grounded and from fading off entirely. "Hey there." You hear a sweet and friendly voice cut through the void of your mind and you lift your face towards the sound. You see a woman with kind eyes, a button nose, and a sweet smile standing outside and peering into the tent at you. "Oh, hello", you say softly in return. You quickly sit up and straighten out your hair in an effort to make yourself presentable for what, you assume to be, another audition. (To be honest, you're still a little shaky from the last introduction).

   "Arthur's gotten himself tied up already," she informs you. "Not even back an hour, so he asked me to come by and check on you. Said you may need some clothes to wear?" She cocks her head to the side a bit as her eyes roam over you, taking in your appearance. You look down at the shirt of Arthur's that you are still wearing, fisting up the material in your hands as they sit in your lap. You shrug a little. "This shirt is surprisingly comfortable," you say with a chuckle. The woman replies with a laugh of her own. "Yeah, that's because his shirt is ten times too big for you. Its like a dress on you." "Well, I guess I just need a belt and then I'm all fashionable, aren't I?", you giggle.

   The woman enters the tent and casually sits down next to you. As she moves into the tent, you now notice a small boy who has been tucked shyly behind her skirts. "I'm Abigail. This here is Jack." "Nice to meet you both", you say, nodding at Jack. "I'm (Y/N)." Abigail's eyes flit over you now that she's gotten closer, taking in your bruised face and torn skirts. "Arthur told me what happened to you. Damn animals," she says in disgust. "I hope they got what was comin' to them." "Oh yes," you nod slowly. "Mr. Morgan certainly saw to that." "Good. Well, what do you say we go over to the girls' tents and see if we can get you something better than Arthur's old shirt to wear?" Abigail stands up and offers her hand to you, which you gratefully accept. "Thank you", you say with a thankful smile.

   Stepping back out of the tent and into the sunlight, Abigail leads you and Jack across the camp and over to a collection of smaller tents and tables where a group of women are gathered. "Ladies, we have a new arrival in our midst," she announces. "This is (Y/N). She's going to be stayin' with us for a bit. She ain't got nothing but what she's wearin', so I was hoping between the few of us we could spare some clothes for her to borrow until we can get her some of her own." The girls halt their activities and all move their eyes back and forth between Abigail and you. Again, you are a bit self-conscious of being judged, because if these people don't care for you, you have nowhere else to go. But thankfully, the girls all nod in agreement and quickly introduce themselves. You are not the same size as some of them, but in a flurry of activity, they all offer up something for you, whether it is a blouse, skirt, shawl, nightshirt, even hair ribbons and combs. The small pile of items that accumulates on the table brings tears to your eyes. This may be a gang of outlaws and thieves, but they have shown you more compassion than "civilized" folks have back in Rosewood. "I can't thank you enough, ladies, really," you gush to them. "This is truly gracious of you all." "Ah, don't fret about it," says the pretty blonde known as Karen. "We take care of our own around here. Don't you worry." And the next half hour is filled with questions. The girls want to know all about you:  where you're from, what you do, are you married, do you know how to steal, etc, etc. The bonding moment touches your heart as these strangers have instantly taken you in.

   As the conversation dies down, you are sitting next to Abigail, watching Jack as he sits on the ground, poking at some bugs he's found. "He's your son, yes?" you ask. "Yep, that's right. That's my boy," she says proudly. "He's adorable, so happy," you observe. "Yeah. I'm real lucky. I wish I could do more for him, but I do the best that I can," she says, her smile dropping a bit in disappointment. You shake your head Abigail. "I've seen people do half as well with twice as much at their disposal. You have nothing to feel guilty about, Abigail. He's happy, healthy and a bright boy. You should be proud." This makes Abigail smile brightly as she watches Jack. Finally she turns to you. "Thank you for that, (Y/N). I appreciate you sayin' that. Its been hard. I probably would have lost my mind by now if it wasn't for Arthur." This statement gives you pause. "Is Arthur his father?" you ask. Abigail huffs out a laugh. "God, no. But he's helped me out more than Jack's father ever has, I can tell you that." "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, I guess."

   "That's Jack's father", she says and you look in the direction Abigail is pointing. You see a tall, lean man standing with a group of other men. He's handsome, for sure, and you can see the resemblance, even from a distance. "Are you still together?" you ask. "Honestly, I don't know what we are," she replies. "We were together for awhile before Jack came along. Totally wild for each other, too. But when he found out I was pregnant, he didn't know what he wanted. Said he wasn't fit to be a father. Spooked him and he ended up taking off for almost a year." You could see her face twist up in annoyance, which made you instantly regret bringing up such a sore subject. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," you said quickly. "Oh no, its fine. Not like people around here don't know," she dismisses. "Anyway, John took off for awhile and during that time, Arthur stepped up and watched over me and my baby, helped me out when he could." "That's wonderful of him," you acknowledge. "Well, he and John are like brothers, practically raised together by Hosea and Dutch. So I guess he felt it was his responsibility to his family." This made you think about your new friend, Mr. Morgan. You cast your eyes about the camp until they find and settle on the man. He's over by one of the wagons cleaning his gun. To look at him, he seems most intimidating, almost frightening. He's big and very gruff, doesn't smile much. But your own brief experience, and now this information from Abigail, confirms that there is obviously more to this man than the brutish exterior that he exudes. And almost as if he can feel you eyes on him, suddenly Arthur lifts his head to meet your gaze upon him. You instantly blush and offer a slight smile and small wave of your hand to him. His face almost seems confused, as if he's not sure why you're even looking at him, but he tips his hat to you, a slight smile to his eyes.

   "Eventually John came home and we've been tryin' to make it work," Abigail continues. "I know he wants me, but not too sure how he feels about Jack," she says quietly, not wanting Jack to hear. This statement instantly sets you on the defense. "Oh that's convenient for him, isn't it?" Your face instantly flushes, your eyes burning. "You know, for what its worth, there's a difference in someone who wants you and someone who will do anything to keep you. You remember that. I know I don't know you very well, but I can tell that you are clearly worth more than that half-assed attempt that you're getting." Surprised by your defense of her, Abigail looks at you, seeing your eyebrows pulled in frustration and your mouth twisted up into a scowl. After a few moments, her eyes are glassy, holding back tears of her own. "You really mean that?" she asks softly. "Of course I do! I think love is when two people get together and say 'I really want this' even when its complicated and messy. Maybe John has his own hangups, I get that. But its not fair to put all of the work on you." When Abigail replies with a stunned silence, you cringe, internally cursing yourself and your mouth. "I'm sorry," you say again quickly. "I'm so sorry, I really should mind my own business," as you shamefully cast your eyes down to your feet. "No...its OK. I appreciate it, actually." Abigail turns her face back to Jack, then looks over at John, thinking on what you just said.

   A few hours later, there is a bit of a commotion from the direction of the hitching posts. Two men have ridden into the camp, causing all sorts of racket. One is a slight man, Hispanic, from what you can tell, and the other is a large, burly man, about Arthur's size, maybe bigger. The larger man is holding his arm and wincing as he shuffles around to the front of the horses after he dismounts. A few of the other people from the camp walk over to the two arrivals and you can hear them talking. Eventually, the lot of them turn in your direction, with Dutch pointing at you. A smirk crosses his face as Dutch calls you over. "Miss (Y/L/N), we need your assistance," he says with a wave. "Would you come over here, please?" You get up from the table where you and Abigail are cleaning vegetables for tonight's dinner and quickly walk over.

   "What can I do for you gentlemen?" you ask, looking around the group of faces, lingering on Arthur's familiar face before eyeing up the man holding his arm. The Hispanic man grins and chuckles, "Well, there's a lot you can do for me, miss, if you really want to know", he says as he raises his eyebrows at you. "Hey!" Arthur quickly smacks him across the chest and scowls before you can even counter. "Watch your mouth, Javier. She's new, ain't used to your nonsense yet." Javier shrugs in response. "Sorry, miss" he says, smiling sheepishly. You roll your eyes at him, a slight grin sitting on your lips. "It's alright. We'll deal with it later." Dutch clears his throat to catch your attention. "If you don't mind, Miss (Y/L/N), Mr. Williamson here is in need of medical attention. That is why you're here, isn't it?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. This is a test, and you know it. You instantly realize that you have to be careful with how you play this, else you risk being run-out of another situation. "Yes, of course" you answer sweetly.

Turning your attention to the large man, "Hello, Mr. Williamson. What’s the trouble?"

"Can hardly move my arm," the burly man answers you, wincing at the pain radiating from his shoulder down his arm.

"Do you mind telling me what happened?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" asks Ms. Grimshaw, who has come up to stand behind you with her arms crossed. She is clearly not believing in your medical skills and is ready to call you out on any mistake you make.

Sighing quietly to yourself, you look over to face her stern scrutiny. "I'd like to know just how he got injured because that could affect how I treat him," you say, trying to keep your annoyance at bay, as you return your eyes back to the man, waiting for his reply.

"Bar fight," he grunts out. "Wrestling with some guy and fell down some stairs."

"Did you win?"

He smiles at you, "You know it, girl."

You chuckle slightly and nod as you step closer to him, lifting your hands up to gingerly run them along his strong arm and shoulder. Your fingers trace over the muscles, slightly pinching here and there. "Where does the pain start from?"

"My shoulder" he says between gritted teeth as you poke around.

You continue to feel about his shoulder, gently moving his arm slightly to see how the tendons move under your fingertips. "Feels like it’s just dislocated, easy enough to fix, even out here." you smile up at him reassuringly.

"Is it gonna hurt? Fixin' it, I mean?" he tentatively asks you as he shifts his weight nervously. Its actually rather sweet to see such a large man be so skittish.

"Well, yeah. It's not going to tickle, that's for sure. But it will be quick." You pat him gently on the forearm. "Here, sit down." You walk over and grab a chair from one of the nearby tents and sit him down. He looks up at you nervously from the chair. This man has never met you before and suddenly he's supposed to trust you? And this fact is not lost on you, either. You smile at him as you catch his bearded chin in your fingertips and look down into his questioning face. "Don’t worry, Mr Williamson. It’ll be fine. I promise," and you give him a quick wink. He smiles hesitantly at you, not sure if he’s more nervous of what you're about to do, or how you smile at him.  

You bring over another chair and sit down opposite Mr. Williamson. "OK. Just take a nice, deep breath and relax, OK? Just try to relax the muscles in that shoulder and arm, yeah?" You lift up the hand of his injured arm and set it upon your opposite shoulder and place your other hand at the bend of his elbow, pulling it down slightly to square-off the angle of his arm. He flinches a bit with the movements, as everyone else gathers around to watch.

"What's your first name?"

"Bill"

"Well, Bill, we haven't been formally introduced yet. I'm "Y/F&L/N" Just got here to your camp." Bill looks at you in total bewilderment. You know what's going through his head:  'Who the hell are you and what the hell are you talking about right now?!' But the reality is, you're trying to distract him in hopes that he will forget about the pain in his shoulder to allow the tension in his arm to ease up a bit, as that will make manipulating his arm back onto its socket that much easier. As you're talking to Bill, you slowly start to massage the shoulder muscles in an effort get them to relax enough to allow the shoulder to pop back on its own. He's so preoccupied by the feeling of your hand along his shoulder and upper arm and that he doesn't realize that you've slowly started to work his arm open, twisting it from his torso. This tactic of distraction is one that you've seen your father use time and again with his patients. He always was a master at it.

"Alright, I'm going to twist your wrist a bit and then push along the shoulder here to guide the arm back into the socket. On three, yeah?" You check that he's ready and Bill nods to you nervously. "OK then. One…" and you move quickly while Bill is distracted, focused on your counting, popping his arm before he even realizes you've done it. He lets out a sharp yelp and freezes, eyes squeezed shut. After a moment, he opens his eyes and looks at you, “What the hell happened to 'three'?!” You smile in response. "Sorry...how does it feel now, though?" He carefully moves it around. "Shit, that's a hundred times better." he says incredulously.

"Good. Now, don’t go crazy with it. You don’t want the muscle to tighten up too much and get stiff, but try not to move it around too much for a few hours at least. In fact, I'd prefer to put it in a sling, if we have any fabric around here anywhere to fasten one. Oh," and you point your index finger at him, "and no bar fights for awhile." You lay a hand on his good shoulder and give him a slight squeeze for reassurance before standing up. Straightening your skirt a bit as you stand, you look over to Ms. Grimshaw who is still standing with her arms crossed, scrutinizing you. “Satisfied?”

She rolls her eyes a bit at you. "For now," she huffs.

Dutch exchanges a look with Arthur before bringing his cigar up to his mouth with a smile.

As the day is drawing to a close, and the sun has begun to set behind the trees, the men have congregated around one of the fires, drinking beer and talking about everything and nothing. There is a calm atmosphere about the camp and everyone has started to settle. The smell of fresh wood smoking on the fire fills the air as it crackles from the heat of the flames. And, of course, the topic eventually comes to you and they all look over and watch you move about with Abigail and Jack. They're trying not to stare, but then again, you're not even paying attention to them to notice.

"Great, another stray," complains Micah Bell, shaking his head in annoyance.

"I don’t mind her," says Bill. "Seems nice enough. Surely nice enough to look at."

"Eh, if you like that sort of thing," says John dismissively, drawing on his cigarette. "She's kinda mouthy."

"Smells like flowers too." Bill continues.

"Oh, well its nice to know where your priorities are at, Bill," Micah retorts back, rolling his eyes.

Uncle pipes up. "He ain’t wrong. If I was a few years younger or she was a few years older..."

Arthur throws his hand up as he exhales his own smoke from the cigarette that is hanging between his lips. "I’m gonna stop you right there, old man."

"What, are you savin’ her for yourself, Arthur?" asks Javier, raising an eyebrow as he leans out on his knees onto his elbows, eyeing Arthur curiously.

“No. But did you look at her? She ain’t gonna want any of us clowns.” Arthur waves off the lot of them.

   Over at the tables, Abigail notices out of the corner of her eye that the men are all staring at you and talking, like they are staking out some new job, and chuckles, shaking her head. "Idiots" she laughs to herself. "I'm sorry?" you lift your head up from the book you are reading to Jack and look at her, confused. "Oh nothing. Apparently you are the new topic of conversation around here." And she tilts her head over to her right to indicate to the group. You follow her direction to see the collection of eyes on you. Some divert away shyly, others do not. "Oh. Well, they're in for a disappointment. I'm not all that special," you tell her. Her laugh is more of a snort of derision in response. "To them you're a shiny new toy to play with." "I'm not in a mind to 'play' with anyone," you say slightly annoyed at the idea of it. Abigail shakes her head again. "Oh I wouldn't worry about any of them. They'd never get out of line with someone here in camp. Well, except maybe that one, that Micah. Still haven't figured him out yet," she says as her face twists up in slight distaste. "But if anyone tries anything, you just let Arthur know. He'll deal with 'em." You look over to the side again and catch Arthur's eye and smile softly. Just he did earlier, he startles a bit, not expecting you to look over, but he nods to you all the same. And Abigail is right, somehow it does feel a lot safer with him around.

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

   You've been in the camp of a few days now when Mary-Beth approaches you and asks you if you'd like to go into town. She says that Mr. Pearson is in need of supplies so a few people are using the opportunity to head in together. "I figured we could get you some new clothes and any other personal things you may need," she offers. "I appreciate the offer, Mary-Beth, really, but I don't have any money for such a thing right now," you reply, slightly embarrassed. "Oh don't trouble yourself about it. Arthur gave us girls some money to help get you set up." "He did?" you ask. "Yep, he sure did," she says with a slight twinkle in her eyes. "Oh. Well, then, I guess its OK," you respond tentatively. "Excellent! This will be fun!" she says excitedly as she wraps her arm around yours and pulls you towards the wagon. As you come to stand by the wagon, waiting for everyone to compile a list to those who are going out, you look around to see if you can find Arthur anywhere. But unfortunately, he is nowhere to be found. "Has anyone seen Mr. Morgan this morning?" you pose the question to the group. "He's already out. Left right after breakfast," informs Mr Pearson, as he goes over the final supply list with Lenny so they can plan the day's events. "Why, what d'ya need?" "Nothing. I just wanted to talk to him real quick is all," you reply. You wanted to thank him for offering the money for you to get some things of your own. "He don't stay put for too long, missy. That man comes and goes faster than the prairie winds around here," says Mr. Pearson dismissively. Oh well, you'll catch up to him later, you suppose.

   The trip into town is peaceful, giving you the opportunity to see what your new surroundings entail. The landscape is beautiful, rolling hills with acres and acres of trees. Its a pleasant day, warm, with the sun in and out of the clouds. You tilt your face up to the sky and let the sun warm your face. The gentle rocking motion of the wagon comforts you. You inhale and exhale deeply as you think over the events of the last few days. You still have a hard time wrapping your brain around your current situation:  your assault, your father so brutally taken from you, and now you are living in refuge with a gang of outlaws. You gaze over at your traveling companions. Mary-Beth is very sweet, hard to believe she is a thief. Although that is probably what makes her so good at it. Same with Tilly. She's adorable and so smart. You can't help but wonder where she'd be if she wasn't with this gang.  Mr. Pearson is driving the wagon, chattering away to anyone who will listen. He is certainly a character. Seems nice enough, though, and definitely committed to his role with the gang. Lenny is riding on his horse alongside the wagon. He's a young man, handsome and very articulate. He seems very pleasant with a good-nature to him. These people are not at all what you'd expect a "gang" to look like. But then again, you haven't crossed them either, and you hope that you never have to.

   The town is pleasant enough, although not much to it. Everyone in your group scatters upon arrival, each with their own agenda. Pearson is heading to the general store, Lenny over to the blacksmith, Tilly apparently has a lead that she is chasing down, which leaves you and Mary-Beth on your own. "Come on, (Y/N), there's a dress shop down the way here," she says as you start to walk down the street. In the boutique, Mary-Beth helps you find a new skirt and blouse, new boots, a brush for your hair and some undergarments. You eye the money that she lays down on the counter to pay for you. You still feel guilty for letting Arthur offer up his money for you. You make it a point in your mind that you must find him the minute he returns to camp to thank him. In fact, since you've arrived in his camp, you really haven't spoken to him too much. You're not sure if he is intentionally keeping a distance from you or if that's just the way of things.

   Back at the camp, Arthur has returned from his morning hunt with some meat for Pearson's wagon. "Just left a bit ago. He took a group into town," Ms. Grimshaw tells him when he huffs that Pearson isn't there to put-up the meat. "Including your girl," she adds with a smart tone. "Ugh...she's not my....nevermind..." he grumbles as he waves her off. Well, if you are in town for the time being, this is a good opportunity to take a nap in his own bed for a bit, he thinks to himself. He's still given you his tent for now until he can procure something else for you. So he heads over to his tent and notices that you have the panels only half drawn back. In fact, they are almost swagged and tied back as if they are curtains welcoming you into a room. By doing so, you've let the fresh air in, yet keep the direct sunlight out, keeping the interior nice and cool. Shaking his head with a "whatever" mumbled to himself, Arthur walks into the tent. And as he does, he looks around, about to set his satchel down, and halts as he suddenly notices how clean and tidy his space is now. His clothes are washed and folded neatly, sitting on the trunk at the foot of his bed. His jackets are not only hung, but brushed of the mud that was caked on them from the last job he ran. The tables are dusted and there are flowers in a cup by the bedside. Arthur walks over to the end-table and picks up the cup, staring at the blossoms for a moment. They are just wildflowers from the edge of camp, but still pretty. They are the ones that he saw you picking with Jack yesterday. A smile comes to Arthur's face at the memory of Jack proudly walking with a fistful of flowers for his momma, you tailing behind him with some of your own in-hand. He carefully sets the cup back down and turns around, heading out of the tent again and back to where he left Ms. Grimshaw.

   Meanwhile, you and Mary-Beth have finished your shopping, and after a few more stops, make your way back to the wagon that Mr. Pearson left parked outside the general store. It looks like you and Mary-Beth are the first to make it back, so you decide to sit and wait for the others. You are sitting on the wagon's steering bench when you notice a man approaching the two of you. He walks with an arrogant swagger, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "Why, good afternoon, ladies," says the man, a bit too friendly for your liking. His eyes run up and down over you as he runs his hand over his mouth, making you extremely uncomfortable.

"Piss off, you," says Mary-Beth. "Keep it movin'"

"Oh, now is that any way to talk to a gentleman, miss?"

"If I see one, I'll let you know," she hisses at him.

The man turns his attention back to you, "What about you, sweetheart? Are you any nicer than your friend here?"

"Nope" you simply reply, trying your best to avoid any further interaction with this person.

"That's a shame," he says stepping closer to you, almost at your feet now. "'cause I could show you are good time. A real...good time." And he reaches out his hand and runs his finger along the top of your boot. Ugh, this man just makes your skin crawl and you can feel your face contort in disgust. But suddenly, the man watches as your body language suddenly changes and your face relents into a smirk.

"You had better move on, like my friend suggested, sir." you say.

"And why would I want to do that, pretty thing?"

"Because I don't appreciate your advances very much."

"Hmmmm....and you think you're going to be able to do something about it?" he sneers, leering at you.

"Me? Oh probably not...But he will." And you nod your head towards something behind the man. And at that moment, the man feels the cold metal of a revolver against the back of his head. The man freezes as the smugness instantly drops from his face. He turns his head slightly but all he can see from this vantage point is the barrel of the gun, the large fist that holds it, and a pair of very angry steel-blue eyes at the end of it. The man turns back to you, and you tilt your head as you speak. "So tell me sir, just what was it that you were going to do with me?" you ask in a  sweetly sarcastic tone. Its now your turn to be smug. "I...uh..." he stammers. "Now, before you answer, I think its only fair to warn you," you start, "that the only thing that my friend here with the gun hates as much as a woman-beater is a liar. So I'm going to ask you again. Just what was it you planned to do with me?" you voice cool and even now. As you pose your question again, the man hears the gun at his head cock back, loading the bullet into the chamber.

"Please, miss, I didn't mean anything by it." The man's face goes pale, his eyes pleading with you now.

"Oh, I think you did." You slowly stand and climb down from the wagon. You bring yourself to stand about a foot in front of the man now, arms crossed and eyes burning with contempt into his. "I suggest that you think very carefully about who you approach and what you say to them from now on," you coldly chide the man. The man nods sharply at you, looking for any possible sign that he is free to leave.  After holding his gaze with your defiant stare, making him sweat it out for a few more moments, you finally look over the man's shoulder and nod to the person behind him. The man hears the hammer of the gun click back and feels it slowly leave the base of his skull. He closes his eyes in relief before opening them, looking at you again. You raise you eyebrows at him, "Go on, then. Go." And you shoo him away with your hand. The man turns abruptly to leave, coming face to face with the person who held the gun to his head moments ago. He gasps as he now realizes just how close he came to getting shot, as the man looming in front of him is very large, very angry and very not amused, staring him down.

   You step up next to Arthur as you both watch the man trip over his own feet to get away from the two of you as quickly as he can. You turn and look up at Arthur. "Well, that was fun," you smile at him. The scowl on his face instantly drops as Arthur looks down at you. "You OK?" he asks, concern on his face. "Yes. I am now, anyway," you sigh. Arthur simply replies with "Hmmmm". "That's the second time you've saved me, Mr. Morgan. You're a pretty useful fella to have around." You raise an eyebrow at him with a smile. "Yeah, that's me: Mr. Useful" he huffs. "Well, better than 'useless', I suppose," you chuckle in response.

   "How did you know we were here, Arthur?" asks Mary-Beth. Arthur breaks his gaze with you and turns back towards the wagon where Mary-Beth is sitting. "Came back into camp shortly after you all left. They said you'd came here to town. I wanted to make sure you didn't run into any trouble." He turns back to you. "Guess its a good thing I did." You slowly let out an exhale, "Well, I'm surely glad you did, Mr. Morgan." And you lay your hand on his forearm and smile in gratitude. Arthur looks down at your hand and then back to your face, and the corners of his mouth turn up into an ever-so-slight smile in return.

    When you get back to camp, you help the others unload the wagon of the supplies and as you collect your own items to head back to the tent, Arthur offers to help carry them for you. You graciously accept his offer and he follows you to his tent. You figure this is a good time to thank him for offering to pay for your things, as he is a more private man and you're sure he would appreciate the one-on-one conversation. But as you both enter the tent, he decides to confront you about the cleaning before you have a chance to say anything. "So I wanted to ask you, did you clean up in here?” He poses the question to you as he sets your packages on the cot. He catches you a bit off guard, as the tone in his voice is almost one of annoyance. "Um... yeah, I...I hope you don’t mind," you say quietly, averting your eyes from his intense stare. "Just wanted to do something to thank you is all." “You don’t need to do any of that," he says slightly perturbed. "You've been bringing me coffee, washin' my clothes and now cleanin' up after me...I didn't bring you here to wait on me.” His reaction leaves you speechless, as you're not really sure what you've done wrong. "I...I'm sorry, did I offend you? I didn't go through your things or anything, I swear." "No, no I'm not offended," he interrupts, waiving his arm around, dismissing the idea of it. He turns about in the tent, pacing slightly, not sure how to give voice to his concerns. "It's just...its been awhile since anyone's looked after me is all," and with that statement, he plants his hands on his hips in frustration. You stand silently not quite sure how to handle this. "Oh...well...," you think a moment on your response to him. "How about this, then:  you look out for me and I’ll look out for you. Deal?" "What?" he asks, totally confused as to what you're suggesting. "You know, if no one is looking after you, and I clearly need someone looking after me, why don't we agree to look after each other?" you ask innocently, your hands fumbling with your fingers nervously. Arthur is looking at you like you have two heads. "Why in God's name would you want to look after me?" You shrug at him. "I don't know. 'Cause we're friends?" He furrows his brows at you this time. "I'm not really one to make friends, Miss (Y/L/N)." This causes you to try to muffle a small giggle, despite the intimidating scowl he is giving you right now. "That may be, Mr. Morgan. Yet, here I am."

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

   At this point, you've been in the Van Der Linde camp for a little over a week. The people have seemed to have taken to you quickly and accepted your presence here. By now, you've returned Arthur's tent to him, as Abigail has offered to let you stay with her and Jack, seeing as John is still keeping his own tent for now. "You sure?" Arthur asked you when you insisted he go back to his own bed to sleep. He was sitting at the table drinking coffee when you approached him about it. "Yes, I'm sure. Thank you for the kind offer, but Abigail says she has room for me and you can't keep sleeping out by the campfires. You really should be up off the cold, damp ground. You need to get your proper rest, seeing as you have so much to do around here." You poured him another cup of coffee and sat yourself down opposite him with a cup of your own. The gesture had thrown Arthur a little. He's not used to someone putting his comfort first, but the stiffness in his joints didn't let him argue too much. "Alright, if you're sure. I'm glad to see you gettin' on so well here, then." He casually strikes a match along the tabletop to light a cigarette. "So far, so good, it seems," you admit. "The girls have been very kind, and Jack is excited to have a new friend", you laughed. "Although, I'm still working on Ms. Grimshaw. She's going to be a tough one to crack," you say as you tap your finger on the table for emphasis. Arthur let out a gruff chuckle at your comment. "Yeah, well good luck with that one. I've known her for years and I'm still working on it myself." "Great," you replied, rolling your eyes.

   And its been a bit of an exhausting week, too, as Ms. Grimshaw is really putting you to work. The camp chores are usually divided up, yet Ms. Grimshaw has you either doing or assisting with each and every task. Whether it is washing clothes, chopping vegetables for meals, feeding and watering the horses, sweeping out the tents and wagons, she always finds something for you to do. She's even gone so far as to send you out with Mr. Smith to hunt. Honestly, you didn't mind hunting with Charles, though. It gave you a chance to get out of the camp, and Charles is a very pleasant fellow. He even said he'd teach you to track, too. But with Ms. Grimshaw, it is a matter of pride, a game of wills, between the two of you at this point, so you do not dare complain. But truth be told, its getting to be too much. Even the other people in the camp are starting to notice that you never sit still, ever.  

   At the moment, you are carrying two heavy water buckets for the laundry washing, one in each hand. As you walk through the camp from the creek, suddenly the handle snaps on one of the buckets, sending it crashing to the ground, splashing and drenching you with water. You let out a sharp yelp and freeze, blinking out the water that is dripping from your hair and into your eyes. "Damn it!" you yell to yourself and toss the other bucket in anger to the ground as well. You close your eyes, tilting your head back in frustration, and sigh deeply, hands firmly planted on your hips. "Shit," you mutter another profanity to yourself when you realize that you do not have any other dry clothes to wear. You only own a few pieces of clothing and they are all on the line drying right now. Trying to figure out what to do, you notice the same shirt that Arthur gave you the day he found you folded and sitting on the top of the clean pile of clothes. Sighing, you snatch it up from the pile and, ducking behind one of the wagons, you quickly exchange your own soaked shirt for Arthur's dry one.

   It isn't too long afterward that Arthur comes around the corner of the wagon from where he's been chopping firewood, with a bundle in his arms, when he almost runs right into you. Startling you, you jump back with a loud gasp. "Woa, watch where you're goin’," he rattles off to you in a huff, not paying attention. But then he pauses, looking down and noticing your clothing. "Wait, are you wearing my shirt?" he asks, his face confused. At this point, you are just so overwhelmed and frustrated that you say nothing in response, but just start to cry. Arthur's eyes shoot open as he panics, afraid he's upset you. "No, no, no, don’t cry! It's OK!" He drops the bundle of firewood he has and places his hands on your arms, trying to get you to calm down as your breath is broken, your eyes glossy and your lip quivering. "Hey...Hey...its alright, you can keep the shirt if you want it that badly," he pleads. He hates seeing a woman cry. Its so unsettling to his nerves. Feeling quite embarrassed, you try to pull it together, attempting desperately to stop crying, as you take deep breaths. "I'm sorry," you shake your head. "Its just been..." "Too much?" he offers when you can't even finish your thought. You simply nod quickly in response, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. Arthur sighs, thinking a moment. "OK, come with me." And he turns, tilting his head to the treeline of the camp before he starts to walk away. You stand there momentarily, not sure what he's doing, but proceed to follow him, rushing a bit to catch up and keep in stride with him. "Where are we going?" you ask. "You'll see," he replies, offering no other details.

   The two of you take a walk out of camp and along the creek-line. "Grimshaw's got you runnin' pretty ragged, huh?" he asks you. "Yeah," you reply wearily. "You want me to talk to her?" he offers. "No. No offense, but I don't want to make it worse." You pause for a few moments. "No, this is just a test to see how far she can push. At least, I hope that's what's happening," you guess. "Well, she is hard on everyone, that's for sure. But she does seem to be on your ass quite a bit," he admits. Arthur knows first hand how harsh Ms. Grimshaw can be. And he knows full well he's delivered you to a wolf by bringing you here. He can only hope that you can withstand her wrath. But so far you have done nothing but impress Arthur, so he doesn't have much doubt in your enduring strength.

   After about fifteen minutes, you get to a point where the path you are walking starts to incline. The ground is becoming more craggy and rugged, changing from the green of the woods and hills to a more rocky terrain.  "Mr. Morgan, where are we going?" you push, almost a whine in your voice. "Just trust me," he answers and continues to lead the way up the hill. After climbing another ten minutes, you reach the top of the hill and see where there is an opening in the rock-face. It almost looks like a doorway. Arthur leads you over to it and pauses, turning back over his shoulder at you before he grins and walks through it. Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you follow him. When you walk forward, you see that the rock-face opens up to reveal a grand view of the entire hillside below you. You hadn't noticed the steady incline as you were walking, but now, you are on higher ground and looking down and out over the great expanse of the meadows beneath you. From this view, the countryside seems to go on and on forever. And what adds to the breathtaking view, is that the sun is starting its decent for the day. It hangs low, a huge red ball hovering in the sky, bright hues of gold, orange and red cascading over everything.  

   You stand there in stunned silence, taking in the scenery around you which instantly puts you at ease and calms your nerves. Your jaw drops slightly in awe of the view, making you forget any of the previous aggravations. Arthur says nothing, but slowly walks over to the edge of the drop-off and sits, his legs dangling over the side. Staring at his back for a second, you eventually move to join him, slowly lowering yourself down to the ground next to him.

   "It's not the 'blank slate of the early dawn' that you like so much," he says with a slight flourish of his hand '...but I think its still pretty nice," his voice is quiet and contemplative as he tilts his head in emphasis, staring out straight ahead before he turns to look at you out of the corner of his eye. His statement makes you grin. You both sit quietly for a few moments before you ask him "How did you find this place?" He inhales deeply, thinking about his answer. "Oh, wanderin' 'round. Actually, I come here a lot, you know, when I need to clear my head and all." You curl your lips into an understanding smirk and nod in agreement. "Do me a favor, would ya?" he asks. "Don't tell anyone about this place. Its kinda 'my spot'. Well, I suppose now its your spot too," he chuckles. At this you actually start to giggle. "OK, deal. Thank you for bringing me here, Mr. Morgan." "Sure. Its like you told me the other day: you look out for me and I'll look out for you, right?" You both turn and look to each other now, smiling. "Right..." you answer, before you both turn back towards the skyline.

...and that is when everything changed...

[toku-fangirl-dolls]

Meet the dolls: part 1 (Historical)

I just added a part 2 with my contemporary dolls, but for now, let’s start with all of my historical American Girl dolls.

Samantha

Samantha was the doll that started it all. She’s not the oldest doll in my collection, but she is the one I’ve owned the longest and still the one I treasure the most. I fell in love with her picture in the catalog back around...1993 or so, I want to say. I thought she was the most beautiful doll in the world. I have most of her original fashions, though I never did get her tea dress, and also a few of her re-release outfits. Here she is in her original cranberry Christmas dress, along with her cape, hat, and muff (I unfortunately only have one of her shoe covers that matches the cape...child me was very good at losing small accessories). Samantha is the big sister to the rest of the dolls.

Nellie

I wanted a Nellie doll so badly as a child, but they didn’t start making them until 2004. By that time I had decided I was too old for dolls, so I saw her, wished they would’ve made her sooner, and moved on. When I got back into collecting, I decided to track her down. I found this one on eBay, bundled with several of her outfits. I had to track down the coat separately, but it was worth it. She is wearing her Christmas dress under her coat. When I set up my dolls in different scenes I always have her and her bestie Samantha together.

Melody

I bought Melody right when she was first released because I was glad AG had decided to make another historical Black doll (I’d love to see a Black doll from the 1950s, but that’s a story for another day). My Melody wears glasses because I think they look cute on her (and she had them in the movie). I have a couple of her historical outfits, but honestly I dress most of my dolls in contemporary clothes most of the time (although “contemporary” in this case means anything from the 1990s onwards...I’m old, aren’t I? Sigh). Anyway. Melody is wearing her historical Christmas dress under this coat. My Melody is a Star Trek fan, again because of the movie (she wanted to go to space), and she has a red Starfleet dress that she wears for Halloween to be like her favorite character, Uhura.

Kirsten

I found this Kirsten at a toy show in early 2019. I’d been thinking about adding a Kirsten to my collection and I just about fainted when I looked under her dress to check the condition of the cloth body...

There’s a chance that this doll is a year or two older than me! The white-bodied dolls were only produced from 1986-1991, and only for the original 3 dolls (Kirsten, Samantha, and Molly). The seller wanted $50 for her, and since the white-bodied dolls can go for several hundred, I knew I couldn’t pass her up. I spent the rest of 2019 slowly building up her wardrobe thanks to eBay. Of all my dolls, she is the one who spends the most time in historical fashions.

Addy

I bought Addy in 2019 as well, from the American Girl Benefit Sale in Madison, WI. Like I was saying, most of my dolls wear modern(ish) clothes. She’s currently enjoying a pajama day. 

I learned how to do Dutch braids so I could braid her hair. The braids have held up fairly well, although I may take them out and re-do them at some point to try and get them neater/tighter.

Felicia (custom Felicity)

Felicia here is a bit of a Franken-doll. She was another eBay find, and actually the last doll I purchased before my collecting hiatus. I had originally meant to fix her up and give her to my aunt, but then she and my uncle got divorced and we lost touch. When I got back into collecting, I fixed her up for myself. She had bad stains on her limbs, which I was able to remove, but she needed a new wig and a new cloth body. I gave her a wig from a JLY 61, and also swapped out her eyes for blue. Her original eyes were fine, but I liked the red hair/blue eyes combo and wanted to give eye swapping a try. She’s another doll who wears glasses because I like how they look on her. Here she’s wearing a handmade Anna outfit that I found at the benefit sale craft fair.

Ariel (custom Marie-Grace)

I’ve always thought the MG face mold was a good one for Disney princess customs. I swapped out her wig for one from Beautifully Custom. She has a mermaid dress, but here she’s wearing one of the Truly Me outfits (can’t remember the name of it). I also have a pattern for her pink dress from the movie, and I’d like to make her a pair of pajamas like the ones in Wreck-It Ralph.

And those are my historical dolls! I’ll introduce the contemporary dolls (GOTY, JLY, and CYO) in part 2.

[sweets-fanfics]

Homecoming 2/?

Title: Some Irish prick

A/N: no, sean is not the irish prick.

word count: 2096

warning: small amount of violence

“Y/N?” You heard Henry running up to you. He pulled you behind him and away from your dad. “Are you okay? Did you try to steal again?” You rolled your eyes and pointed at Dutch.

“Me stealing isn’t the problem at the moment.” Henry looked at Dutch as it clicked a bit.

“Y/N go home,” Henry demanded.

“Wait for just a second, son,” Dutch spoke up.

“No. You have literally never visited us, or wrote to us. I wouldn’t even consider you our father.” Henry snapped as he started pushing you towards the direction of home.

“Father?” You heard Arthur ask.

“Wait, Henry,” You started. “Let’s hear him out.” Henry looked at you with an angry face. “Maybe he knows where Uncle Trelawny is or Uncle Hosea.” Hosea had always been a soft spot for Henry. Hosea would write to you and even came to visit you both once.

“Hold on. Hosea and Trelawny knew about them?” Arthur asked.

“Arthur not now,” Dutch said making Arthur throw his hands up. “Hosea is with us. He’s at our camp.”

“Camp?” Henry sounded a bit disgusted. You smack his arm.

“We would love to see Uncle Hosea.” You answered before your brother could.

Your brother and you followed Arthur and Dutch out of Valentine and to Horseshoe Overlook.

Henry kept giving his father dagger eyes as Dutch talked to you both. Repeating over and over how shocked he is and how big you and Henry had become. To which Henry replied with a bitter, “Yeah… that’s what happens when you grow up.”

“Hosea!” Dutch called as you all walked up to the camp. The older man looked up from his book. “I brought home a surprise for you.”

Hosea walked over curiously but as he saw you and Henry hopping off your horses his jaw dropped. You ran up to him and hugged him, “Uncle Hosea!”

“Dear girl, what are you two doing here?”

“Oh, ya know. We missed you.” You joked as he patted your head.

“You are a lot taller than before.” He joked back.

“We were fifteen the last time you saw us,” Henry said as he walked up and shook Hosea’s hand.

“Well, then it’s been entirely too long. Come sit, I believe Pearson should be done with dinner and then you can introduce yourselves to the family.” He pushed you two towards a table sitting you down. You could see people noticing your arrival and wandering closer to see who you were.

A little boy ran up and smiled, “Hi, I’m Jack. Why do you two have the same face?”

“I’m Y/N and this is my brother Henry, we are twins so we have the same face.” He looked between you and Henry for a moment.

“Do you guys want flower crowns?” He asked throwing you off.

“Uh… sure?” With your answer, he ran off quickly looking on the ground for flowers.

Dutch came up and stood between you and your brother. He put his hands on each of your shoulders. Henry moved his shoulder out of Dutch’s reach making you sigh.

“Everyone, this is going to sound very confusing to you all but before Annabelle passed she went away for a while and when she was gone she gave birth to these two beautiful children in front of me,” You looked at your feet nervously. You had never been one to like attention. “She passed very shortly after. It was a mistake I see now, but at the time I was so heartbroken that I didn’t think I could raise them and sent them to live in a boarding school in New York. I’m not entirely sure what brought them back here… But I’m so glad-”

“It’s because we were kicked out of our university.” You smacked Henry’s arm after he spoke. “No, Y/N, he should know.” Henry stood up so he could look at your father in the eye. They had the same serious looking face. “Our school and board had all been mysteriously paid for until our last semester. Y/N was going to have a master’s in music.”

“Henry, ‘ts ok..” you tried to stop him but he talked over you.

“I was going to be an astronomer. I even skipped a few grades. But all that work was for nothing.” Henry threw his hands up angry and stormed off leaving you to clean up as usual.

“Mr. Van Der Linde… I mean Dutch? Father? Anyway, I’ll apologize for him. He’s been sour since a ridin’ accident a few months ago.”

“Dear Y/N he has every right to be angry.” He put both hands on your shoulders and kissed your forehead.

“I should probably make sure he gets home okay. I can come to visit again tomorrow if ya’ll be here.” You started backing towards your horse Suzie, a beautiful strawberry Roan you had found after the original owner had died.

She’d been on the side of the road when you passed, you saw her owner on the ground with a very clearly self-inflicted gunshot. You had felt bad for her and took her with you. She was most definitely the nicest horse you had ever met. And she unironically loved strawberries.

“Of course dear. Arthur, can you make sure the princess gets home safe?” Hosea asked.

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. “Uncle Hosea you don’t have to call me that.”

“I mean look at you. Your pink horse and daughter to the leader of a gang of misfits, you are like a modern-day princess.” He said laughing. You looked away as your cheeks got red.

Dutch came up and patted your leg as Arthur got back on his horse. “I hope I can see you tomorrow, daughter?” He asked. His eyes almost seemed to be begging.

“Of course… Pa..” That felt comfortable enough. You didn’t know if you’d get used to having a parent.

“You ready to go princess?” Arthur asked.

“Not you too.” You sighed.

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

As you and Arthur rode back to your cottage he told you of how he met your father and how Dutch took him in. He talked about how your mother had passed and told you about the recent failure at Blackwater. By the time you got to your cottage, you felt as if you had been with the gang the whole time.

Both you and Arthur hopped of your horses at the same time. “Thank you for seeing me home Mr. Morgan.” You smiled as he walked up to you.

“Mr. Morgan? That cause I work for your daddy?” He chuckled.

“I thought after my poor attempt at being a thief I had lost the chance to call you Arthur.” You said in a slightly flirty way. You were hypnotized by his blue eyes to the point you couldn’t look at him while riding home cause you couldn’t focus on telling Suzie where to go.

He seemed to catch on and smirked, “No, no, you can still call me Arthur.”

You gathered up all your courage and took a step closer to him. “Well then Arthur, thank ya for seeing me home safely.”

You had hoped he’d lean in and kiss you. You realized you had met him that day but you just couldn’t seem to help yourself. It seemed he may have too until you heard the door open.

“Shit sorry,” Henry mumbled and shut the door.

Arthur took a step back making you sigh. “Well, at least ya know he’s home.” He turned and started for his horse.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow as well right?” you asked shyly.

“Only if ya won’t rob me.” He said as he got comfortable on his horse.

“No promises.” You smirked at each other as he rode off.

You took Suzie next to Henry’s horse, Lightning, a black and white American Paint. There was a rustling near you making you look over your shoulder. As you did you saw a gun barrel in your face.

You put your hands up as a man with a green bandana smirked. “So, you Van Der Linde’s kid?” He asked with a strong accent.

“No. My last name is Butler.” You lied.

“Bullshite, I saw you’s exchange in Valentine earlier.” Fuck. “Think how happy Colm will be when I bring him a Van der Linde.” As he said that he raised the gun hitting you over the head with it knocking you out.

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

  Henry

Henry was still trying to calm down from earlier but he knew you’d give him an earful. Especially since it looked like he almost walked in on you and Arthur kissing. He shivered at the thought of someone wanting to kiss his annoying and easily fooled sister.

He did feel guilty for the earlier outburst and had caught a rabbit on the way home and was getting it ready to cook for you. Heck, he was already almost done when it dawned on him you hadn’t walked in yet. He walked the door swinging it open. “How much do you guys have to make out before you come in for dinner?” He asked but when he opened the door he saw as a stranger put you passed out body on the back of their horse and start to ride off.

“Hey!” Henry yelled grabbing the double-barrel he kept by the door. “Put her down!” He ordered aiming the gun.

“Bug off, kid, be lucky I didn’t kill ya.” The man said before riding off faster then Henry could aim and fire.

“Fuck!” Henry yelled as he ran to his horse and jumped on trying to chance after the man. It was clear Lightning would not catch up to him. “Fuck, fuck.”

When he finally lost sight of him he realized he was back near Dutch’s camp. Henry groaned looking up at the sky as if asking God if he was really about to make him do this. But after a millisecond realized he would have to suck it up in order to save you.

He turned Lightning and stormed into Dutch’s camp scaring people awake. As Henry hopped off his horse Dutch walked out of his tent with his hand pulling out his pistol. Henry could see Arthur waking up and quickly grabbing his pistol.

Once Dutch realized it was Henry he started to put his pistol back in the holster. “Henry? Son, what are you doing here?”

“Some Irish prick just kidnapped Y/N,” Henry said as he paced back and forth.

“Wait, what did you say?” Arthur said as he and some others joined them.

“After I saw you two I went to finish cooking and realized Y/N hadn’t come in. I thought you were still out there with her so I opened the door to yell at her but instead she was knocked out and tied to the back of some assholes horse.” Henry realized he was shaking with anger and fear and tried to stop it.

“Men get on your horses,” Dutch said without another word.

“Dutch, I can’t lose my baby sister. She… she’s all I have left.” Henry said getting on Lightning and following Dutch and his men.

“Oh trust me, Henry, I have a feeling I know who took her and I will personally end every single one of them,” Dutch said making him sound the complete opposite of how he had earlier when he was introducing you two to the camp.

“We’ll get your Y/N,” Arthur reassured, “I knew I should have waited a bit longer.”

“It’s not your fault,” Henry sighed, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to sweet-talk her way out of it. As worried as I am, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to rescue her. But I know… she’d do the same.”

“Your sister seemed tough. I’m sure she’ll be okay.” A man with shaggy black hair and a scar on his face added.

“I know she is. Out of the two of us, she’s the only one who knows how to fight or use a gun. I just… She’s always been too trusting” Henry said the last bit more to himself as he eyed the back of Dutch’s head.

Arthur had seemed to catch the last bit but didn’t say any more. Arthur had wanted to kiss you earlier that night but he would never admit it. Especially since your Dutch’s daughter. He didn’t know how Dutch would react to Arthur developing feelings for you the moment he saw you, and he did not want to find out.

He just knew. He would save you.

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

let me know if you want to be tagged. Or if you just want to say hi!

[msjr0119]

Return to New York

Part 1

So because many of you have asked for a follow up- here ya go, it may be a mini series- haven’t decided yet 😫

Riley Brooks never returned after being thrown out of the Coronation. Liam cleared her name, and they tried to find her with no luck. One day they returned to New York and by fate she turned up at a cafe due to Daniels ‘meddling’.

Warnings: Swearing

Some quotes are owned by Pixelberry as are the characters.

Using combined tags for this one shot/mini series:

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816 @twinkle-320

*****

“Did you miss me gentlemen? Or did you just miss the cronuts?” Riley asked in a sarcastic manner- even though deep down she was nervous. It had been three years since the Coronation- three years since she got on that plane back to New York and never returned to Cordonia.

“Little blossom!” Maxwell screeched, Jumping out of the chair- he knocked the drinks over- not giving a damn about the consequences. Running closer to her, he picked her up- swung her around as if she was on the waltzers.

“I’ve missed you so much! Do you really hate us that much to go awol...” Riley looked at him with sorrow in her eyes, not knowing how to respond to him. Thinking up of a shit excuse to use- she was shocked by Maxwell checking her left hand and eyeing up her body.

“I’ve missed you too- why are you looking at my hand? And my body?”

“You look fabulous to say you’ve popped a baby out-who’s the lucky fella? The baby daddy? Are you getting married?” Riley looked at Daniel who just shrugged his shoulders, then focused her gaze towards Liam and Drake who both looked at her with their jaws agape.

“Max, I don’t know what you’re on about? I’m definitely single, and I’ve definitely not ‘popped’ any kids out- thank you.”

“But Daniel said....”

“But Daniel couldn’t finish what he was about to say... I was going to say was that she worked at the Hard Rock cafe down the road, but it’s part time. Her main job... she’s got a kid who she looks after during the day- for extra income.” Riley looked at Daniel understanding how Maxwell would get his wires crossed- he was never one to let people finish what they wanted to say.

“Oh... Maxi. If I had a baby, you’d be the first one to know. So what are you guys doing here?”

“Maxwell wanted to feel close to you.” Riley snapped her head towards the voice- the last man she kissed. The last man she felt anything for. Sure she had feelings for Liam- but there was something about Drake that she couldn’t shake away.

“And he dragged you two along. Typical Max.” Maxwell shrugged his shoulders before pulling the two men into a bromance hug. “Congratulations by the way Liam, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you Lady Riley. It’s good to see you.” Liam stood up to hug her, the last time he was this close to her was in the maze when he promised that he would choose her- even though there were doubts from her side about her being his choice, due to her lingering feelings towards Drake.

“So, are you having a Prince or Princess?”

“We’ve decided to keep it a surprise.”

“Li if you knew, we could have gone on a shopping spree... I told you it was a bad idea keeping the gender a secret.”

“Why don’t you guys go shopping, you can buy unisex clothing.” Riley suggested.

“Come with us Little blossom?” Maxwell’s eyes pleaded with her, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

“I’ve got to go to work. Sorry Max. Why don’t you all go shopping then come for a meal, I’ll give ya a discount.”

“Deal.” Maxwell agreed without confirming with the other two men. If they didn’t want to join him, Max wouldn’t force them. Personally for him, he was going to spend every second he could with Riley- his ‘adopted’ sister.

****

The men went shopping, to say it was for Liam’s child the only person excited was Maxwell- hoping to prove that he could win the best ‘uncle’ award. Drake remained silent throughout most of the shopping trip- his thoughts were about Riley on a constant loop. The last conversation he had with her, the regret of not following her to New York- ignoring Liam’s advise regarding her ‘safety’.

Yeah, well... I guess maybe I found someone worth impressing.

Drake...

If only for tonight.. anyway, I’m glad we were able to have a few minutes out here together. Thanks for the drink, Brooks.

I wanted to ask... it seemed like you were about to say something earlier?

I was just going to say that I was wrong. No matter what happens tonight... crown or no crown, engaged or... not... you’re still you.

Weren’t you just telling me how I’m one of them now?

I was being an idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. I knew it as soon as the words were out of my mouth. You didn’t deserve that.

Drake is that as close as you come to an apology?

You don’t let me get away with anything do you? Lady Riley Brooks, I’m sorry I was out of line.

Thank you.

It’s just in that moment, when I saw you at the ball... you reminded me of Savannah. How she was the last night we went out with nobles at that party. She was so happy in her fancy gown, with her hair all done up. So hopeful. She lit up the entire room. She really believed she’d made it. That she was one of them. And I still don’t know what happened to her, what made her leave. But it was bad. It was something that broke her. I’ll never forget how devastated she looked the day before she disappeared. She looked hopeless. Like she’d given up. And when I looked at you tonight...I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the same thing happening to you. This place seems shiny and wonderful, but the truth is, it breaks people, Brooks. I don’t ever want to see you broken.

Drake.. that’s still no excuse for how you’ve been acting.

I know. I’m sorry. Hell, Brooks. My life would’ve been so much easier if I could’ve just hated you. I....

What were you thinking just now?

I was thinking... if this is the last time I’m going to be alone with you before you’re an engaged woman... I’d be a damned fool to not kiss you.

Drake... kiss me now.

“Drake? Are you okay?” Liam asked softly, noticing his friend was in a trance.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem quiet, since we left Riley.”

“I’m fine Li. Honest.”

“What were you thinking just now?”

“I... I kissed her the night of your coronation. I’m so sorry Liam. I know you were going to choose her. The last three years all I’ve thought about is what would have happened if... if she... I’m sorry Li.”

“You kissed Blossom? Why didn’t you tell us? Is this why you and Kiara never worked?”

“I like Kiara I do... but more as a friend. With Brooks...”

“With Lady Riley you had feelings that were more than a friend?” Liam asked smiling at his friend who gulped before nodding his head.

“It’s not too late Drake, hey my spontaneous trip brought us back to her.” Maxwell bowed in front of the men, proud of his ‘genius’ impromptu crazy ideas. Patting himself on the back overdramatically - he knew that fate was occurring.

“If you feel that way.. don’t let her go. She wouldn’t have kissed you if there were no feelings from her side. I’m not cross Drake, so don’t apologise.” Liam’s encouraging words made Drake think, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself jumping straight into where they left off. Arriving at the Hard Rock Cafe, they were seated by a waiter- Riley noticed them settle in, smiling and waving at them all.

“My names Riley, and I’ll be your waitress for the night. I assume you’ll want; a sex on the beach for Lord Beaumont, a scotch for his majesty and a whiskey for Sir Walker?”

“No need for the titles Riley.” Drake said smirking at her, looking confused at him she paused writing the order down. He had never called her Riley- instead he used her surname as a defence mechanism.

“Are you feeling okay Drake? Calling me Riley?” She playfully nudged his shoulder, before staring into his eyes. Both of them focusing on each other- frozen. Liam and Maxwell noticed the spark between the two of them.

“Blossom, I think we will just have three burgers- whichever one you suggest.”

“Uh sure. I’ll put your order in gentlemen.” Watching Riley walk away, the two of them instantly looked at Drake.

“What?”

“Go and speak to her, whilst she makes the drinks.” Liam encouraged, watching Riley nervously place her hair behind her ear- then noticing Drake looking at her also.

“I think I’ll need a bit of Dutch courage before I speak to her like that.”

“No you don’t. The way she just looked at you.... the way you looked at her.... there was something there.” Maxwell pouted his lips- impersonating a kiss. Drake shook his head, clearing his throat- he robotically walked towards the bar. Rehearsing in his mind what to say to her, he was shaking- not knowing why.

“Hey Brooks, how are you?” No that’s stupid.

“Hi. You’re still as beautiful as I remember.” No too upfront.

“You look as if you’ve settled back okay.” For fuck sake Drake, it’s just Brooks. It’s just Riley.

“Hey, you do know that the waitress is supposed to bring your drinks over right?”

“Yeah, I know... I ... why did you decide to not come back?” Fuck. Why did you ask that?

“I... I just thought you’d all be better off without me. I already caused one scandal, I didn’t want to cause another.”

“You didn’t cause that. That was all Tariqs fault, not yours. We all wanted you to stay. Liam cleared your name. You could have come back then.” Sighing, she didn’t know what to say- would they accept her apology for leaving abruptly and losing contact?

“Drake... what’s she like? What’s Anna like?”

“She’s an amazing Queen. Liam is smitten. Why do you ask?” Does this mean she still feels something for Liam?

“No reason, if I came back when Max and Bertrand tried to beg me at the airport- he wouldn’t have met her. He wouldn’t be happily married with an heir on the way.”

“Honestly they are crazy in love- it’s sickening.” He laughed, Riley mimicked his action. “What did you mean another scandal by the way?”

“If Liam was to choose me that night, it would have caused another scandal.... I love Liam, I really do but as a friend. I...” Biting her bottom lip, she knew that if this was the last time seeing them- she needed to come clean, place all her feelings on the table. “I would have caused another scandal- because I slowly fell in love with someone else. How’s Kiara by the way?”

“Erm... she’s okay I suppose... why?”

“Liv and Hana.... they... they kept in touch with me- keeping me up to date with court gossip. You both began dating so you should know how she is.”

“They kept in touch with you? They knew we were going out of our minds looking for you.”

“Why are you avoiding the question about Kiara?”

“Because there’s nothing to explain. Yes we began dating shortly after you left. But it’s not like that....”

“It’s not like what? It’s none of my business. Go and sit down marshmallow. I’ll bring the drinks over.” Jumping over the bar, he pulled her close to him.

“Drake you’re going to get me the sack! Go and sit down!”

“So what? You can come back to Cordonia that way.”

“I’m quite content where I am thank you.”

“Brooks, you belong in Cordonia... Jeeze you belong there more than I do.”

“I don’t deserve anything Drake... please go and sit with Li and Max.”

“Don’t you deserve happiness too? Who did you fall in love with?”

“It doesn’t matter Drake. Excuse me I have to work.”

“Riley... wait...” turning her head towards him she wondered if he was being sincere with his nice attitude.

“The reason myself and Kiara didn’t work was because of you. She knew that I was in love with you.”

[vanderlindemangofarm]

Omg I love your headcannons so much, you just write the characters so well and accurate! So I was wondering if you could do headcannons on arthur, dutch, and Javier with an super shy and cute s/o? Like she gets flustered easily and keeps to herself. Sorry if thats too many characters you don't have to do all three. Thank you

Thank you so much, lovely Anon!

Oh, this request is adorable. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 

Arthur/Dutch/Javier - shy S/O 

Arthur

Arthur isn’t exactly extroverted himself, let’s be honest. So he sees the potential for a kindred spirit in you right away. 

If you’re sitting by yourself, he’ll always come and check on you. He may not say much, but he’ll plonk himself next to you if he senses you’re lonely. 

You make him smile in more ways than you realise. He loves that you quietly observe situations rather than make as much noise as possible. 

He finds you extremely huggable. Get ready for him to wrap his arms around you at every opportunity he can find. 

If anyone’s giving you a hard time, Arthur is there in a heartbeat. Doesn’t matter if you’ve been cornered by a rival gang or if it’s just Micah being inappropriate. Arthur will sort it. 

He’s amazing at reading your signals. If you’re in a group situation and feel yourself getting flustered or overwhelmed, Arthur realises before you do. 

He’ll swoop in and hug you from behind, kissing your neck, and immediately you feel more at ease. 

Arthur adores the peaceful, but meaningful conversations that you share in your tent after everyone else is asleep. 

He holds your head in his hands, nuzzling your nose occasionally, and wondering what on Earth he did to earn someone like you.

Dutch

Dutch thinks you are the most adorable, perfect creature on the planet, and he tells you that every single day.

So. Many. Nicknames. 

Mostly he calls you his Little Fawn, as he secretly loves how wide your eyes get when you’re nervous. 

He can hardly keep his hands off you. Whether that’s holding you from behind, cradling you to his chest in bed in the morning, or having you on his lap by the campfire, he wants you to always feel protected. 

He’ll utterly spoil you. It doesn’t matter what it is - a beautiful dress, a diamond necklace, or just a delicious looking cake from a bakery. Before you’ve even finished saying “that looks nice”, Dutch has bought it for you.

Absolutely nothing is too good for his Princess. 

Dutch finds it adorable when you get flustered, so prepare for some teasing. 

But he’d never be cruel, and if a situation is genuinely too much then he’ll do everything he can to help. 

He may find it challenging to give you your own space sometimes as he loves spending time with you so much, but eventually he’ll understand. 

Having said that, if you just want to hang out in his tent whilst you both sit and read together in silence, then few things would make him happier. 

Javier

The second you joined the gang, Javier assigned himself a mission; to be the first person to get you out of your shell. What? No! Of course it had nothing to do with the fact you were beautiful. How dare you suggest such a thing. 

One of Javier’s favourite things to do is try to make you blush. He grins wickedly as you giggle and hide your face behind your hands. 

When it comes to you getting flustered, Javier takes the proactive approach. He’ll always encourage you to calm yourself and try to push through any anxieties. 

This man will never baby you, but when you handle situations by yourself he’s bursting with pride. 

On the other hand, if anyone is being unkind to you, Javier sees red. 

Once you had to physically drag him out of a shop because the assistant got impatient with you.

You always sit next to him around the campfire. He’ll give you reassuring kisses on the cheek all night long. 

Watching him play guitar is so soothing, and he just loves to impress you with his skill. 

He’ll invite you to play games with the gang to help you feel more at ease. If you can beat him at any of them, he will swoon.

He sits you on his lap whilst he plays Five Finger Fillet, wanting you to get the best view of his abilities. Show off! 

[kshitij1997]

Chapter 8: Childhood, stories and role models

A late evening in Midsummer, 1825, Arendelle

King Agnarr's passion for books and stories was legendary. He had been collecting books since the age of five. He had books on all subjects, be it tales of ancient times, philosophy, nature, mathematics, the skies above, the sciences that dealt with the functioning of the world. Not to mention the private histories that he had collected of various people across the world. The lives o great people who lived centuries before him from lands as far as the hermit kingdom of Korea, the isolated lands of Japan, the protectorate of India and the Dutch East Indies (Modern day Indonesia). Stories that appealed to the greater good in all humanity.

Stories of Warlords like Yi Sun Shin, the naval commander who defeated a fleet of nearly five hundred enemy Japanese warships, with only twenty-three ships under his command, using the ingenious turtleships, a fighting vessel of war centuries ahead of its time, when the Japanese invaded in 1592 to 1598, even as he was being hunted down by his own master, the king. Stories of supreme courage to fight against all odds for your homeland, be it the enemy or your own government.

Then there were stories like that of Ashoka the Great, the ruthless emperor, warlord and warmonger whose name meant 'the one who never mourned', whose expansive policies brought all ancient India under his control, save for Kalinga. Said emperor was fair to his people and cruel to his enemies. Said usurper waged war against his hundred brothers when they were between him and the throne. Said conqueror vanquished the state of Kalinga when he declared war on Kalinga, where he was defeated even in victory. The cries of the mauled, dying and mourning forever left an impression on the emperor who hadn't known sorrow ever before in his life, who spent the rest of his life shunning conquest, embracing Buddhism, taking the path of non-violence and allowing his children to abandon their royal titles and become monks to spread the faith. Stories of war, conquest and eventual repentance, sacrifice, forgiveness and redemption.

Tales of extreme dedication and unbreakable vows, like the one taken by Gajah Mada, the Prime Minister of the empire of Majapahit, who swore not to touch spice and experience pleasure until all the Indonesian islands were under Majapahit's control. It took him twenty-one years, but he did it.

Tales of Kings, queens, warlords, soldiers and even a few common people with extraordinary fates.

King Agnarr felt proud to have such stories of such people from around the world. How throughout history, people face similar problems and situations and how they rise to face them. He felt even prouder when he realized that his wife Iduna also loved stories. But the proudest moment for him was when he found out that his children had an even greater passion for reading than him. Elsa and Olva were nearly inseparable, taking great joy in reciting their favourite stories and playacting their favourite characters. The fact that Olva had an almost academic interest in Elsa's ice powers was also found to be very charming by the king. She would often challenge Elsa to make something out of ice, usually a new word or name of an object she just learned, and Elsa usually rose to the occasion and made it as if it was second nature.

'How can you make that, Elsie?'

'I don't know Olba, it just came to me.'

'Is that what a pearl looks like, Pa?' Olva asked her father.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, but it doesn't.' Corrected the king. 'This is a pearl' Said the king as he showed the corner jewel of his ring.

Elsa's face fell as she realized her crystal of ice was not the right shape for a pearl.

Agnarr asked Olva 'Well little one, where did you hear the word?'

Olva replied sheepishly a book 'In this big book, it was the only word I could get.'

Agnarr laughed inwardly as he realised that his five-year-old and three-and-a-half-year-old kids had stumbled upon a book written in middle English. Olva helpfully guided him to the place where she had read the curious word. He read the sentence in all the middle English that he could remember, which was ample in this case. It was a beautiful sentence:

'The smooth pearl doesn't pretend to shine, for it knows that it is close to the heart.'

Agnarr smiled, my kids are too precious.

He sat alongside them and said ' Well Elsa, the shape may be off, but it is a pearl for sure. Your ice is close to you isn't it?'

Elsa replied with a small voice ' I think so?'

'Yes, it is! She makes pretty things all the time. She loves it.' Olva chimed in.

Elsa blushed with a small smile 'It is very pretty, and I like doing it, so I guess it is close to me.'

'It is close to both of us, it is a pearl to us.' Olva added as she hugged Elsa from behind. Elsa didn't admit it, but she loved a good hug. She also loved to mess with Olva at times. She waved her little hands over Olva's head and declared 'I name this: vanilla on black forest.'

'Hey! Not fair Elsie!' said Olva as she brushed the thin snow frosting from her dark brown hair.

'Bahahaha, it's so much fun messing with you.' Laughed Elsa even as Olva stuck her tongue out. Elsa responded in kind with a raspberry.

'Alright girls, calm down, ma's here.' Iduna said as she entered the royal chambers with princess Anna, who had just turned two years old, and was learning to speak her first words.

'Snow!' cried the baby princess as she held her head with both her tiny hands.

'Hey Anna!' Both Elsa and Olva chimed in unison as they were beside their baby sister in no time.

'Hey Anna, want to see something?' Elsa spoke to Anna, always one to ask even though Anna never said no to her.

Elsa waved her hands to form a ball of ice, but the difference was that it glowed with a luminescence of its own, as if she had tamed a star into her hands.

'Whoa! Elsie, that's beautiful' Olva said, clearly taken in by the glowing ball of ice.

'Mine!' cried Anna as she reached out to it with her baby hands. She tried to bite into it, alas she was not prepared for the cold.

'Ow!' She yelped and started crying, as the ball of ice fell to the floor and was smashed into a thousand little pieces.

'Oh no!' Elsa wailed as she grabbed Anna and proceeded to comfort her in her arms. Olva joined in and tried to coo her and made clicking sounds with her tongue to calm her down. Eventually the redhaired princess, a quality she had inherited from her father, managed to calm down and started giggling in Elsa's arms as tears of relief ebbed from Elsa's face.

'I'm so sorry Anna.' Elsa wept quietly, even as Olva had now started to comfort her.

'She's all right Elsa, it was just a little chill.' Olva reassured the platinum blonde.

The king and queen watched the scene play out from a small distance, curious to see how they would handle it. The princesses were all right in the end, the royal couple breathed a sigh of relief.

Agnarr's thoughts drifted back to when they had first gotten pregnant with Anna; Dr. Klaus had advised the king not to conceive so quickly after Olva's birth. However, with the deed done, the good doctor advised the king to go for a caesarean operation when the time of delivery came. The king was vary about the procedure at first, but Dr. Klaus had pacified him by saying that it would be easier and safer for both the queen and the doctor. So, the third child was born and named Anna by them together. Elsa and Olva were almost immediately taken in by their baby sister and made sure to always keep her happy and entertained and make her feel loved.

Iduna's thoughts were drifting too, albeit in a different direction. Sure, this was just a small accident, but who knew what could happen with Elsa's powers. She felt foolish in that moment; there was a time when she was comforting Agnarr in his moments of doubt, and now she felt the same fears, only much, much worse. She prayed to all the gods she knew to please let her children have a normal childhood. To not panic when in moment of vulnerability, to not abandon those who believed in her, not to give in to hate when the world was against her. How could her gifted, cursed child even begin to understand these things, much less take the correct decision when the situation arose?

Well, as her mother, she could cultivate a sense of responsibility in her eldest.

'Olva' Iduna called 'Today you and Anna shall sleep with Pa, Elsa will sleep with me.'

'Aw Ma why?' Anna asked even as Olva, who held her, was already snuggled beside her father.

'I need to talk with Elsa, she needs to know something. Good night.' The queen answered quietly. With that, she left the royal chambers to sleep in her own private quarters with Elsa.

'It's okay Anna, sleep with big sister Olva tonight' Olva said, then gave a small kiss on Anna's forehead as they both snuggled close to their father.

'Are you cross with Pa?' Elsa asked nervously when mother and daughter reached their chamber.

'No sweetheart' Iduna comforted her 'I'm here to tell you a story. I promised to tell you a story when you were ready, remember? Well, I think you're ready now.'

Elsa's face lit up as she remembered 'Oh yes! This should be fun! I'm ready.'

The little princess huddled to her mother's side as the duo settled in for the night.

'So, what's the story, Ma?'

'Well, this is a slightly different story than you are used to, little one. It isn't a story of magic; or of princesses being saved by their princes. No, this is a story of survival and sacrifice. The story of a woman who battled the world to protect her family, even if it cost her everything. It might be a story based on true events.'

'Oh, a true story?' Elsa perked up; true stories were a special occasion.

'Yes sweetheart' Iduna whispered.

Iduna proceeded to tell the story of a girl like Elsa, her real name lost to time. The girl was in her late teens, had powers over water and lived with her family in Avignon, France in the 14h century, at the height of pope Innocent the third's rule in the catholic church of Rome. One year, the rains had failed, and famine threatened follow, leading to peasants dying in the thousands from thirst and rising in protest. The girl stepped forward to help the needy, using her powers of water to help those in need and to improve the scene. The pope did not approve; this girl was going to spoil the carefully laid out narrative he had created to destroy the heretic cathars by citing the drought as god's fury. How dare that pipsqueak stand in his way? To discredit her, Innocent the third branded her as a witch, and sent the papal armies and inquisitors after her. The girl had anticipated this and advised her parents and her little brother to escape as quickly as they could. As fate would have it, she was captured and tortured for weeks on end, as the inquisitors wanted the whole family to be vanquished for the crime of nurturing a witch. But the girl held strong, as her family escaped the clutches of the pope away from France with a heavy heart, the girl was sentenced to burn at the stake. The girl went to her death quite bravely, but her screams as she burnt continued to haunt the memories of the local people for centuries afterwards and in time, the girl was canonized as saint Vida of Avignon. Her parents died from the grief, however her little brother survived and found himself in Arendelle. In due course of time, he became a powerful official, and his descendants went on to inherit the crown of Arendelle.

Elsa listened to the story in stunned silence, and once Iduna was finished with the story, she asked one question 'So the little brother is my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather?'

'Yes, most likely.'

'I wonder what the girl felt as she died, did she feel sad or happy?' Elsa mused

'Why would she feel sad or happy, Elsa? I think she was very scared.'

'Alright, but was she sad or scared that she was going to die, or happy that she saved her family?'

'I think she felt both at the same time.'

'Can you feel sad and happy at the same time, Ma?' Elsa asked. Iduna began to worry that with questions like that, Elsa was not going to go to sleep. Maybe she chose the wrong story to tell?

'You will find out on your own someday, now close your eyes snowflake.'

As Elsa settled down to sleep, she murmured 'I think, if I was in her place, I would do the same.'

Iduna thought, god forbid should the day come, I fear you might have to.

Across the North Sea towards the south, in the Southern Isles

Queen Paulina was reeling with frustration and anger after another attempt at insurgency into Russia had failed. Her trusted aide, one she had personally broken bread with and had appointed in her service, had tried to poison prince Nicholas in order to prevent him from coming to the Russian throne. If it had gone to plan, the military man would die along with the aging emperor who himself was knocking on death's door, and prince Pokhilarpov, the weakling that he was, would be her puppet as Poland would come back to Europe. Alas it was not so, as her vassal had been intercepted and caught by the prince's private guard. At least he had the decency to poison himself to death before he could be questioned, so she was safe for now. Nevertheless, it was a source of anxiety and anger.

Queen Paulina was counting her losses and planning her next move when her son, prince Hans came running and crying to her. He was wet from head to toe, his fine tunic was tattered, and his face was swollen from the beating he had received in a scuffle, blood ebbing from his forehead. In his hand, he held a torn piece of paper that once had been a paper boat. 'Ma!' cried the young prince of five years of age 'Look at what they have done!'

'What are you crying about now?' Asked the exasperated queen. This boy needs toughening up, he never ceases to cry, the insufferable coward.

'I was near the pool, playing with the boat I made, when the triplets came and pushed me into the pool!' The prince wailed.

'And?' The queen asked.

'When I climbed out to fight them, they punched me in the face, tore my clothes and, and me boat.' The prince finished and started crying again.

'So instead of taking out an eye, you came running back to me? What are you going to do in life? Hmm?' Hissed the irritated queen 'I have bigger troubles to deal with than a squabble between toddlers.'

'Please, Ma. Help me' The prince begged as big tears rolled down.

'Not until you stop crying. Even then why should I help you? This is between you and the triplets. Ask help from your elder siblings if you're so desperate.'

'They hate me, I heard them say that they wished I was dead.'

'What?!' The queen screamed, it was not enough that she had enemies all over Europe, now she had these runts threatening her own child? 'Alright, stop crying, I'll take them to task.'

It was a heated conversation between king and queen when she badgered him in front of their children and ministers, in the imperial court. The king had always avoided conflict, so it was natural that he was severely outclassed by his determined wife.

'Please calm down, Paulina, I can't discuss this here. Please understand.' The king pleaded.

The queen would not back down this time 'I'm supposed to calm down?! When YOU've ignored your children and have failed to see that they are at each other's throats?! I'm supposed to care for decorum and understand your position, when YOU plan for an early grave, while your children are waiting to be let loose and go picnicking on each other?! You nurse snakes in your garden, and cry when you get bitten, who the fuck do you think you are?!' The impossibly irate queen finished her rebuke even as the king's officials and ministers quietly bid their leave.

'Please breathe sweetheart, are they not your children as well?' The king tried to pacify and prod his queen at the same time. A spectacularly poor decision on his part.

'My children?! If they were my children, they wouldn't ever dare say such things. Admit it, you are at your wit's end, aren't you? You don't know how to raise your own children anymore, do you? Looks like I'll have to deal with them personally.' The queen finished with a growl, implying dire consequences for those who had stirred her wrath.

The king was terrified. Of all his wives, she was the only woman who had reduced him to such a quivering, pathetic state. He was scared in general of her, but there were moments like these, when he was truly frightened of her. At one point, he was formidable, unbeatable, invincible. This woman had reduced him to a scraggy, whining fool. At one point in his life, he had known how to laugh, now all he knew was fear.

'No, Paulina, please do nothing of the sort, I'll talk to them personally, I promise.' The king pleaded with folded hands.

'You better do so, lest I strip these baboons myself and have them made into shoes.' The queen relented, in her own way.

Outside the courtroom, Janus was in a corner hearing everything with an expression of horror.

An island off Northern Cyprus, the Ottoman Empire

It was a curious place to be sure, the tower was black like obsidian glass, smack in the middle of the dense forest. Who thought a small island could have such a jungle? But the tower had a treacherous secret of its own; if anyone had tried to touch the stony tower in order to climb it, the unfortunate person was reduced to ash and powder in a matter of seconds. If anyone was lucky, they may leave a skeleton behind as a terrible warning to all. At one point the six-year-old girl living in the tower wanted to remove the bones, but her mother advised against it; she may catch a curse herself if she touched the remains. So, the little girl had little in the way of distraction; Maybe paint a bit, frolic around the castle for a bit, trying not to trip over her golden blonde hair even as her hair grew longer than her body, often using the same hair to bring back to life the young birds who had been killed while perching on the tower, while telling them to avoid her mother's vegetable patch.

She loved how the hair glowed like the sun when she read the incantation in her head. She enjoyed seeing the little birds wake up as if from a deep slumber, before flying away. She also loved taking care of the vegetable patch, feeling a great sense of pride when the land produced good legumes. But her mind always wandered back to the remains, how she felt that perhaps, the people lying there didn't deserve to die. Unknown to her mother, she had tried to bring the skeletons back to life, but she fainted, and all she saw was black. When she came to her senses, she found her mother holding her on by her bundle of hair for dear life, her face wet from tears.

It was then she understood, it was too late for them, and she had nearly died in the process of reviving them. Never again would she touch the remains.

All in all, it wasn't a bad life in the tower; she had everything she needed, a soft bed, good food, and materials for creating art. Once she found out how far her mother had to travel for said materials, she appreciated them even more. However, there was one thing that wasn't there in the tower.

The only thing she wanted, was to go outside the tower, to see the world, to get out of the tower. If she was to choose the day she wanted to go, it would be the day the people in the distance let loose thousands of lanterns every year. It was a special day for another reason, the lanterns always flew up on her birthday. Oh, to experience that in person!

She was broken from her thoughts when her mother called out 'Rapunzel! Time for lunch.' The owner of the voice was a dark-haired woman with exotic features, with eyes that revealed a life lived far longer than what the face showed.

The little girl responded 'Yes, Gothel.' It felt strange calling her mother by her name, but if she preferred it that way, who was she to complain?

Oh, this was a big one, I think.

We're getting close!

As always, feel free to tell me how you feel with regards to the story. Love it or hate it, please feel free in letting me know :D

Until next time.

[salted-barbed-wire]

The Devil May Care

Chapter Ten

Summary: “Speakin’ of the Devil, he is driving me wild with that wicked grin and the fire in his eyes...” Word Count: 1171

Prelude       Chapter One.      Chapter Two.      Chapter Three.       Chapter Four. Chapter Five.     Chapter Six.      Chapter Seven   Chapter Eight.   Chapter Nine

Magic is way too complex for me apparently. After my shower, I hurried out the door, pop-tart and thermos of coffee in hand, and headed to work. My thoughts were like a tornado, whirling around in my skull trying to make sense of everything that was going on.

Balor made everything sound too easy, despite his mentioning of the difficult incantations. Who knew a few years ago I would be in the middle of a war between an all-powerful demon of destruction and the Devil. Not only that, I was going to be learning spells and witchcraft.

“Can’t get any weirder than that.” I sighed before taking a sip of coffee.

I turned the corner and nearly ran into Aleister who was standing with his hands folded behind his back. “Shit!” I hissed, coffee spilling onto my hand.

“It can get weirder, snojepe,” he mocked me.

“You know, I’m really starting to feel a certain jealousy towards those that haven’t met you.” I glared before shoving passed him.

“Someone is grouchy.” He chuckled before following behind me. “Feeling a little under the weather from all that wine?”

I rolled my eyes, “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Funny,” he mused. “Felix told me you were very deep in sleep last night.”

My heart dropped only for a second. “What’s funny is you using my cat to check up on my sleeping habits.”

“He reports to me if anything strange goes on in your room while you slumber. Extra protection,” Aleister said curtly.

Spying or protecting?

“Come again?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “Why are you here? I told you I’d let you know if Balor called me.”

“You’ve been ignoring my texts.”

My brows knitted together, “I have not.” Aleister snapped his fingers and my phone appeared in his hand. “Hey!” I gaped, looking in my purse to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

He turned the phone to face me, “Six new unread messages. And you’ve put me under ‘King of Heck’? Jaqueline, ‘heck’?”

I snatched my phone out of his hands, “I knew you’d hate it so that’s why I did it.”

An amused smirk plastered itself to his mouth. “Jaqueline, you are absolutely the most peculiar creature.” He stepped closer to me, “I may have the ability to read your mind, but you are always unpredictable. Full of surprises.”

I felt small in comparison to him. “Is that good?”

“It’s absolutely delicious my little dropje.”

“You’ll have to tell me what some of those words you use mean some time.” I swallowed.

His gaze poured into mine. We stood there, locked in each other’s sites for a moment before I turned to see the used book store I worked at looming over us.

“When did we get here?” I asked confused.

Aleister winked at me, “Can’t let you get fired from your human job. I wanted to make sure you got here on time. Have a good day at work and read my texts. The Devil does not like to be ignored.” He turned on his heels and began to stroll away.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll text you later.”

“Oh, and Jackie?”

I turned to see him standing much closer to me than I could’ve anticipated. I froze in my spot as he leaned down to my ear, “If you’re not careful, I’ll give you a reason to roll your eyes back.”

My breath caught from the low growl in the words. I could feel my body responding to him in ways it should’t.

“Have a good day, snojepe.”

King of Heck: Good morning, beautiful. King of Heck: We need to discuss Balor and our Halloween plans. Tomorrow King of Heck: Timing is crucial. King of Heck: I trust you’re not ignoring me. King of Heck: I trust you’re not ignoring me. King of Heck: I have no problem with hunting you down.

I sighed reading through the messages. He really doesn’t like to be ignored. Why can’t he just call me via physic link like he always does?

I have to be close by to do so.

I jumped, looking around for him. You said you were near-by. But I sure don’t see you.

You won’t unless I say. I left you a substantial breakfast by the register.

Too bad I already filled up on that pop-tart.

I could nearly hear the frustrated groan he probably made. I will be gone from this plane for the day and possibly tomorrow. Texts will be the only way we can reach each other.

Busy day in Hell?

No rest for the wicked. Please, answer me when I text, Jackie. I usually fire employees that avoid my messages. Believe me, that’s not something you’d enjoy. It involves torture.

I might. I smiled to myself a little. Have a good time in heck.

When I get back, I’ll be giving YOU heck.

All joking aside, the oatmeal Aleister had left me with made for a delish lunch. My boss even walked by at one point, asking if I needed help eating it.

J: Oatmeal is good for lunch, too right? I think it’s given me all the strength I need to take on some demons. King of Heck: …

I smiled at my phone before putting it away in my purse. Probably shouldn’t be flirting with him, but he makes it too easy.

My boss nodded to me as I made my way to go clock back in from break, when my phone began buzzing under my arm. I pulled it out to see Finn’s name flashing on my screen.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Don’t sound so surprised, princess.” He chuckled on the other end. “You knew this phone call was coming. Let’s arrange this second date to appease your boss.”

I sighed, “Can we talk later? I’m at work, getting ready to clock back in.”

“Oh, I know. I also know that you let your Devil walk you to work this morning. How cute.”

“You sound jealous, Balor.”

“I am. Shouldn’t the man you’re dating be the one walking to work?”

“You probably should be, but I didn’t run into you this morning.” I grumbled. “About this second date…”

“Eager, are we?” He laughed when he heard me give an exasperated groan. “I’ve got a great place to take you, nothing super fancy, but I thought we could have some fun.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Was that sarcasm princess?”

“Nothing gets past you does it?”

I heard a low rumbling of soft laughter on the other end. “Your smart mouth on makes me want to do dirty things to it and you. You’re slowly making your way up my to-do list.” I could feel heat rising from my neck and spreading to my cheeks. “Have a good day at work, princess. I’ll be watching.”

I mashed the end call button harder than I expected and leaned against the wall in front of the clock in screen. My heart was doing flips in my chest. The way they talk is really cruel for someone who hasn’t gotten laid in three years…

~~~

Chapter Eleven ->

Tag List: @fangirls-gotta-fangirl @xladyxfatex @xbreezymeadowsx @rndm-fngrl-blg @nicolewoo @itsicantbelievethis666​

A/N: So, my husband finally asked me what I’ve been working on for the past few weeks at home. I gave him the synopsis of the story, explained the difference between true Irish and Dutch lore, and my own version of it in this story. I told him how I wanted the plot to come out without giving away who the OC is going to end up with. He said “well, when here and Balor are finally together...” I stopped him and said, “Oh, you’ve already decided who the OC is going to be with?” And he shrugged and said “Balor seems like the logical option.” I asked him why he thought that and my husband responded, “Aleister is scary in real life.” I’ve been laughing about it for a day or two now. So, I want to know who you guys think Jackie should end up with. The Devil or the Demon? Also, I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone so far for the support you’ve been giving me. Even if it’s just liking the chapters as they’re posted, I feel like I can do this again and get back into writing. Thank you.  Now, hold on to your hats ladies and germs; the next week is going to be a bumpy ride for this unholy love triangle. The final chapter will be posted on Halloween night! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

[deztinywarriors]

The Linked Charms - Episode 9 (Multi Liverpool players)

[auroranotsogreat]

Pine Cones (FAR CRY 5 winter imagine)

this is a requested story, i hope you all enjoy!

Winter season is harsh in Hope County, Montana. Some people play snowball, some others watch them with hot cocoas in their hands while snowflakes dancing slowly in the air. Some roads are closed due to the heavy snowing. Pine trees covered with snow duvets, making them fluffier than usual. The stream of the Henbane River is almost stopping, ice blocks are swimming in the blissed river.

Resistance members and the Cult have an agreement, it lasts until the winter goes. Both cult and the resistance have been insufficient against the harsh cold. Their preparations isn’t enough to protect the people against freezing weather. At least, it is a chance to warm something up, friendship between the cult and resistance members.

Deputy has already abandoned her mission. Wiping out the cult seems meaningless attempt to her, but still, she has strong arguments, even fights with the Father. Deputy doesn’t like their methods a bit, and she sees these methods as their past problems’ coming to the surface. John has strictly rejected her idea, calling her as “ignorant dumb bitch”, however, he seems more and more calming in these days after the argument.

Jacob is busy being Jacob, unresponsive towards the whole arguments and a little pissed because of the reason having no purpose anymore. At first he has been in an unfriendly attitude against the whole resistance or nonresistance members, except the Deputy. But seeing it now, Jacob and Eli are talking with each other in a friendly manner. Well, winter may be cold, but it brings Hope County a warmth.

Although Eli and Jacob can build a friendship – like commitment, those words cannot be said for Dutch and Joseph. No matter how hard Joseph tries to approach him, Dutch always finds a way to step away from him. He doesn’t like Joseph a bit, and his charming manner, and he shows as clear as possible to be understood by everyone. Joseph really hates being rejected by him, but he tries to stay calm. After all, whole cult is here because of the pact they have made earlier. If he breaks the pact, then he would start a massacre. He knows that much.

Faith and her friend – colleague Peter get nervous every day. Without proper equipment, they are not able to help the people in trouble. And without the Bliss, Faith is nothing but a human being.

Deputy and Mary May’s friendship makes John uncomfortable. Just like Dutch and Joseph, Mary May and John can’t get along well with each other, either. Every time Deputy and Mary May goes out to have some fun, John get mad from the jealousy he feels. He doesn’t even like deputy, true, but she is the closest one that John calls as a “friend”.

After having an English breakfast with the crowd, Deputy takes her coffee with her and goes to the common room. Seed Ranch has enough rooms for the people to stay here. John has a quite elite taste, when it comes to designing his house. The portraits of Joseph isn’t hanging there anymore, but still the place doesn’t lose its unique “cult” beauty.

“What do you think?” John says behind the deputy. He talks quietly, almost like a whisper. The tone of his voice makes the deputy shiver. She doesn’t expect anyone to come here and chat with her. No, not yet.

“Well, I am going to say it once so I need you to listen to me with all ears, John.” She drops her coffee mug onto the end table.

“I am all ears.” John’s curiosity can be seen from his eyes. John’s eyes are more like a reflection of his thoughts. He is so professional at making poker face, but his eyes tell a different story.

“I am thankful, John. For you. Without you, we couldn’t have stayed here. I mean, the Resistance members. You know.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Deputy. We have lots to be done. And, ‘saving’ people boosts my ego.” He winks at deputy.

“Still…” John stops her.

“Still, you will try to kill me as soon as the snow goes off. I know that.”

“And your family, John.”

“We’ll see about that.” Joh walks away to meet Jacob.

***

After a couple of hours, all people gather in the common room to have some chit chat. Some of them listens to the song one of the resistance member sings with his guitar. That is, peaceful. Everyone has needed that, even craves for that. The sky is clear almost all day long, so the snow must be soft enough to slide. Deputy’s favorite hobby is snowboarding, but she hasn’t done any practice since she left Washington.

“Who has a snowboard?” she asks, with a toned voice.

John raises his hand and speaks, proudly. “I have a collection.”

“Can you spare me one of them, maybe your least favorite?”

John frowns, but before he speaks, Eli asks her. “What for?”

Deputy turns to Eli. “uhm… I know how to slide, if that’s it you’re asking. And I am bored, it could be a great activity for my legs actually. I am stuck here for days.”

Jacob breathes out quickly, he is pissed. “You always find some unnecessary wat to spend your precious strength. Good luck with surviving.”

“Does anyone hear me? I know how to use a snowboard goddamn it! Leave me be, mothers! Hey, John! Where are the fucking collection of yours?”

***

“The show is about to begin.” Faith chirps, with her pink beret and gloves, she looks like a little princess. She enjoys every second of the winter. Everyone turns to see the Deputy, who is standing at the foothill. She seems so calm and ready. No matter how Jacob doesn’t want to admit that, she is the strongest person he’s ever met before. Damn, she is stronger than his former military friends.

Deputy breathes in the cold weather, feels immediately alive, much more than before. She positions herself to slide easily, and begins her fun. Doing amazing maneuvers, jumps and slides, she can imagine the shocked faces of the people, and she can even imagine their face expressions, their gasping mouths.

Although she is good at sliding, she is not so good at landing. She stumbles because of a hidden rock she don’t see at the first place, she slides dangerously towards Jacob and without him, she could have fallen pretty badly.

“Watch it there, pup.” He purrs, while holding her tight; as her and his life depend on the hold. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Jacob tucks her hair strand behind her ear.

“Are you okay, child?” Jacob draws his hands away immediately after hearing Joseph’s voice. He stays away from her, as quick as possible.

She furrowed her brows with confusion. “Yeah, I am okay. Thanks.” She leaves Joseph hanging and approaches Jacob, but not close enough to feel him right away. Jacob doesn’t make a move or seem as he’s aware, but his eyes tingling with appreciation and pleasure.

“Show is over people, let’s go and build a snowman!” Faith gathers all the people around her, leaving Jacob and Deputy behind.

Deputy turns to Jacob. Gratefully, “Thank you for saving my life, again.” She murmurs.

Jacob laughs quietly. “I am glad that you remembered, this is not the first time I save you and I think it won’t be the last.”

Deputy looks away at first, then she looks at Jacob with warm eyes. “I wish you would be there.”

Jacob runs his hand around her hair. “For you pup, anytime.”

She hugs Jacob quickly, she would blow up if she doesn’t hug him. Before Jacob understands the situation, she draws her body back.

[darkling-er]

Dorcas Seed | Through the Gates

Full name: Dorcas Joy Seed

Nicknames: Cas ( Nichole ) , sunshine ( John ) , my joy ( John ) , Junior Seed ( Sharky ) , little she devil ( Earl ) , woof ( Boomer )

Birthday: August 9, 2019 (Age 7)

Sexuality: ‘my what?’

MBTI: ENTP

Family: Cicero Johnson ( grandfather ✝ ) , Dorcas Whitehorse-Johnson ( grandmother ✝ ) , Earl Whitehorse ( great uncle ) , Trinity-Hope Seed ( mother ) , John Seed ( father ) , Jacob Seed ( uncle ) , Joseph Seed ( uncle ) , Joffrey Orwell ( step-brother ) , Liza Evans ( godmother ) , Sharky Boshaw ( godfather ) , ??? , Nichole Rye ( best friends forever )

Height: 4′4 inch | 132 cm ( still growing )

Side: neutral / John’s Gate

Location: John’s Gate

Occupation: doing mischief / being curious all the time

Hobbies:  reading ( ‘not studying’ ) , going on adventures with Boomer and Cole , pranking others with Uncle Sharky , learning how to be a ninja with Aunt Liza , learn how to make wooden statues from Joffrey , annoying Grandpa Earl with questions , annoying the bunker residance with question , learning to draw from Dad , learning to make music with Mom

Bio: Dorcas has been raised by all the people in the bunkers, both from radio and from John’s Gate itself. She’s a clever and cunning person, just like her dad. She can talk herself out of every situation, until her mom or her Grandpa Earl catches her. She’s kind and outgoing. She loves adventures and wants to know everything about the past and the outside world. The only thing she likes to study is History. She wants to be a pirate and an adventurer.

Thoughts about people in Hope County :

Earl Whitehorse: She loves Grandpa Earl. She finds him funny and grumpy but doesn’t like how strict he is with her studies. But other than that she loves how he takes her side against her moms with the excuse: ‘The girl is exactly like you when you were a kid, Trinity.’

Dutch: She loves Grandpa Dutch and find his grumpy side cute, but thinks he’s too strict and boring with his lessons. She’s amazed how he knows when she’s not paying attention, even though he can’t see her.

Jerome Jeffries: She loves Jerome and loves to hear his stories about God. Though Jerome often tells her those aren’t just stories but reality she keeps calling the Bible a story. He’s kind and patient with her questions though and he’s the only one that doesn’t get annoyed by her questions, even after hours.

Mary May: She doesn’t like Mary that much due to her relationship with her dad. She doesn’t understand why can’t she like her dad, so she thinks it may be because the woman is lame. But she’s kind with her, though she doesn’t hang around with her that much.

Sharky Boshaw: She adores her Uncle Sharky and wants him to get together with Aunt Jess. She loves how funny Sharky is but sometimes she doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. ‘Adult stuff.’ She loves doing pranks with the man and loves to learn how to craft things with him.

Grace Armstrong: She loves Grace’s voice through the radio and wants to meet her once. She enjoys her stories about her parents and the outside world.

Adelaide Drubman: She finds Grandma Addie funny but doesn’t like how much adult stuff she’s talking about and how she encourages other for kissing stuff. She finds that gross.

Jess Black: She loves grumpy Aunt Jess and wants her and Uncle Sharky to be a pair. She keeps saying it to both of them and Jess finds it annoying. But Dorcas keeps trying with the help of her mom.

Nick Rye: She finds Nick cool and loves his friendship with her mom. She thinks Nick is amazing that he could fly in the past. Even as his Dad keeps reminding her: ‘okay sunshine, but I was the best pilot, don’t forget that’.

Kim Rye: She finds Cole’s mom a badass. Though she and Cole fears her and Hope the most when they get into trouble.

Nichole Rye: She loves her best friend. Cole is a year older than her. Dorcas loves going on adventures with her. They find it funny how their parents forgive them after a while. They both love to know about the outside world and both hate to study. They have similar personalities. Nichole is taller than her so she can reach things, while Dorcas is smaller and so she can crawl through vents and hide under things. They’re partners in crime. Dorcas doesn’t understand that she has a slight crush on her best friend, she just knows she loves her.

John Seed: She loves her Dad. She knows he would give her anything, but she loves his personality as well, not just that he’s her dad. She finds him cute when he’s around her mom. She loves his drawing skills and loves learning drawing from him. She finds her dad funny and clever.

Jacob Seed: soon

Joseph Seed: soon

Special thoughts of my ocs:

Trinity-Hope Seed: She loves her mom, even though she’s a bit strict sometimes. She would never want another mother. She thinks Hope is the most beautiful person in the whole world. Dorcas knows that her mom is very emotional and she gives her dad advices on how to say sorry to her if he does something wrong. She thinks her parents are disgusting with the kissing stuff, but cute in a way. Dorcas also loves her mothers voice and loves her night singing.

Adam Roberts: She loves how grumpy Uncle Adam is. She loves annoying him with her questions when can she finally have cousins.

Rhea Jessop: She likes her freckles and her red hair. She thinks Rhea looks like a princess and likes to play with her.

Tee Enderby: She finds her brother’s boyfriend cute and she loves their relationship. But she still thinks kissing stuff is disgusting. She loves to hear Tee’s poems and when he speaks french. She learns french from him.

Special thoughts of peoples’ ocs

.. @onl-you ‘s universe

Liza Evans: She loves Aunt Liza. She thinks she’s like her mom, but she doesn’t scold her that much. She loves Aunt Liza’s ninja skills and wants to learn with her how to sneak around without people noticing. She sees how her Dad and Aunt Liza keep fighting then being friends again. She thinks it’s funny. She also likes to ask about Liza’s boyfriend and she wants to know when will she finally have cousins.

Emmanuel McAdams: She loves Emmanuel and loves to ask questions about her parents before she was born from him. She also likes to her stories about the outside world a lot from him. She finds him a funny guy.

Dylan Highmoore: She loves Dylan’s voice and loves to imagine how he must look like. She can’t wait to meet with him once they get out of the bunker. She calls Dylan her ‘Radio Buddy’ and has a slight crush on the man. It’s a kid crush, really.

Joffrey Orwell: She loves her brother and likes to hang around him. She loves how creative he is and wants to learn from him a lot. She doesn’t care others say that they’re not really siblings, she still thinks of him as her big brother and no one can tell her otherwise.

Iah Tamman: She loves his photos from the outside world and loves the photos he takes of everyone. Dorcas would like to braid his hair and ask him to braid her hair as well.

Na'eemah Tamman: She thinks Na’eemah is beatiful and clever and funny. She can’t pronounce her name and feels bad about it, but keeps trying. She just calls her Emma when others ask about the woman.

Bill Taylor: She likes following Bill around the bunker and ask him question. She thinks of him as his other big brother.

Misha Annora: She heard the adults talk to her through the radio. She likes the woman’s voice and thinks she’s a bit too serious, but loves asking questions about the Wolf’s Den when she gets a chance to talk to Misha.

Trivia:

She got the Joy middle name from John when she was a baby and had her baptism. John kept calling her “my joy” so her parents thought it would be a perfect middle name for her.

Other than Nichole, Boomer is Dorcas’s best friend. She never goes on journeys without the dog. The dog is always following her, being her companion 24/7.

She hates studying and thinks Grandpa Earl and Grandpa Dutch is too boring sometimes.

She’s homeschooled by all the adults in the bunker and from other bunkers as well.

She loves adventure books and is great at creating plans and other mischievous pranks.

Her obsession is the outside world and the mysterious tunnel that leads to somewhere.

She finds movies boring sometimes and thinks it’s a waste of time.

She calls a lot of people Grandpa, Aunt, Uncle, Grandma or brother/sister, even though they’re just the survivors of the Collapse.

Adults keep secrets from her about the previous world and she doesn’t know what the ‘Collapse’ was, what was the ‘Holy War’ and sometimes when people are angry at her dad why they call him ‘baptist’.

She knows that her Dad will let her do anything, but if her Mom catches them both, they’re both in trouble.

When she was younger she asked: ‘When will my marks start to appear?’ And her parents looked at her, confused. ‘What do you mean, honey?’ Her mother asked her and she pointed at her dad’s arm. ‘Dad’s marks... Will I get them too when I grow up?’ And she didn’t understand why they started to laugh.

She learns french from Tee and latin from her dad.

[sweets-fanfics]

Homecoming 15

 Title: No promises

Wordcount: 3085

warnings: not really anything

Tags: @rollyjogerjones @nokuchishika

______________

Things were clearly awkward the next day. Arthur was in full protective mode which honestly you didn’t have trouble with. When you tried to get up in the morning he wouldn’t let you get up for another hour. He would hold you closely saying tiny things that would make you laugh. Finally, you were able to away and begin your day. But, as you walked around camp you started to wish you’d stayed in bed.

Everyone either looked at you with sympathy or, in Micah’s case, annoyance. You tried to ignore it as you poured your morning coffee. Bear excitedly hopped around your legs as he waited for you to be able to hug. Eventually, however, he had enough and jumped upon you to give you his own hug. You giggled and patted his head while trying to get him down, “Yes good morning to you as well.” 

You were able to get entire full two seconds of bliss after your first sip until it was interrupted. 

“Y/N!” Josiah calls from behind you. “Would you like to help me with a job?” 

You look at him a bit confused, “You do jobs?” You had thought you’d said it in your mind.

Josiah pretends to laugh it off as if it didn’t hurt, “oh you little jokester. Of course! However, it was your father who asked me to ask you.” You roll your eyes and take another sip of your coffee. “Apparently a mister Bronte invited some of you to a party. He wants you to help me dress Arthur up.”

__

You can feel yourself smile at the image of Arthur dressed in a tux. “Arthur doesn’t seem to like dressing up very much.” 

“Which is why we are asking you to help change his mind.” 

You think about it for a moment, “Do I have to attend?” You ask.

“No one had said anything…” He says unsure.

“I’ll help if you can promise me I don’t have to go.” You smirk.

Josiah sighs as if giving up. “Fine… You have my word.” 

You smile sweetly, “Great! I’ll go see if he’s up.” 

You walk up to the front door as Bear ran off to chase Cain. You reached for the handle only to have it swing open making you jump back.

“Oh, my dear I’m sorry I didn’t think anyone would be there,” Dutch says looking guilty.

“Oh, it’s okay…” There’s a long awkward silence between the two of you. “I uh… told Uncle Josiah that I’d help Arthur get ready for your party tonight.”

“Thank you. Lord knows he probably needs a fairy godmother or something..” You smile at his comment.

“Well, I better get goin’,” You awkwardly step around him. 

“Will you go with us tonight?” Dutch asks as you walk away.

You stop for a moment and look at him, “No, I’m not a fan of the Bronte’s… or gettin’ into more mess. So I’m sittin’ this one out.”

You wanted him to realize that you were still serious about laying low. He looked a bit hurt that you didn’t want to go around being an outlaw so openly. “Well, if that’s what would make you happy.”

You nodded before making your escape upstairs and into the bedroom. Arthur jumped a bit when you hurried in and shut the door. 

“You never are really running around in the morning…” He smirked. 

You rolled your eyes and figured you’d tease him, “I’m excited because I have been asked to dress you up from Bronte’s party.”

Arthur was not sharing your forced excitement. “Wait I gotta go?”

“Mr. Morgan you are the muscle of this gang, and my father loves you more than me.  So, of course, you have to go.” 

Arthur wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to his chest. “Now, you know that ain’t true. Dutch loves you.” He kissed your temple softly. 

“I guess… he just isn’t what Henry and I ever thought he’d be.”

You turn so you are facing him and you are able to wrap your arms around his waist. “I guess I should go ask around if anyone has a tux that may fit you…” You sigh not wanting to let go.

“Or… you could stay here and we could…” He trailed off as you began to give a soft giggle. Arthur gently pulled your face up to his and went in for a kiss as a knock came at the door and it opened before you or Arthur could answer.

Dutch cleared his throat awkwardly as you and Arthur froze. “Uh… Sorry to interrupt. Hosea wanted to know if you had convinced Arthur to go.”

You sigh as Arthur hides a laugh with a cough and pulled away fro you, “Yes. He was just about to come down so I could find a tux.” 

Dutch tosses a folded up tux on the counter next to all the ammo. “Hosea also asked me to give you this and said, ‘he may need some help putting it on right.’”

You shake your head and start to push your father out, “Okay, no insulting my husband while in our room.” You say not realizing what you called him until you shut the door and lean against it. Arthur’s shocked face gives it away. “What?” You ask confused.

Then you heard an echo from the hall, “What!” Dutch boomed making you jump. 

You cover your mouth and look back and forth between Arthur and the door. “Oh fuck. What did I do?” 

Arthur shrugs and tries to comfort you, “I mean… Wouldn’t he had found out eventually?”

You run your hands through your hair, “You think he’s gonna try to ground me?” You could feel Dutch trying to open the door again. “Nope, I won’t let you in if you are going to shout.”

The shaking of the door handle stopped allowing you to peak. “I… I just want to confirm what you said.”

“I said Arthur will be down soon…” You try to go back to the previous conversation.

“No no, after that.” He sighed. 

You peaked back at Arthur who looked like he wanted to know how you’d answer, “I… I called him my husband.” You say softly hoping your father didn’t hear.

“And why, my dear, are you calling him that?” Dutch’s arms were crossed, you were about to get parented.

“Because… we… may have eloped a few days ago. And I wasn’t going to tell anyone yet, but I have a big mouth and it slipped.” You answered a bit to fast.

Dutch didn’t explode like you thought he would, he also didn’t say anything. He just looked back and forth between the two of you with his arms still crossed. 

“Listen, Dutch if…” Arthur started when he felt the tension but Dutch raised a hand and cut him off.

“No. You are both adults. Am I hurt you didn’t tell me. Hell yes. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wished Y/N would have picked someone who wasn’t wanted in three different states, but you are your mother’s daughter so I kinda expected you’d fall for one.” He sighed, “Well even though it’s too late, you both have my blessing, for now.” 

You began to ask about the ‘for now’ part when he talked again, “Arthur. Get dressed and let’s go.” Dutch says as he shuts the door leaving you and Arthur alone.

You felt yourself relax realizing you had been tense that whole conversation. You look at Arthur as you both began to smile. “He said he gives you his blessing Mr. Morgan.” You tease.

“I believe I heard that as well, Mrs. Morgan.” He walked up and took your cheeks in his hands as he kissed you deeply. You put your hands around his waist to make sure he can’t pull away just yet. His kiss felt hungrier as if a part of him had been holding back. But now with an official okay all bets were off and you were officially only his. 

His hands slowly began to unbutton your top slowly as you both could hear Dutch downstairs. 

“Today, Mr. Morgan!” 

You groan a bit as Arthur chuckles and pulls back. “After the party, okay?” He tries to step out of your arms but you hang on to him a bit longer. He kisses every inch of your face before you are distracted enough for him to slip free. “Help me get dressed please.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine. But I also get to be the one to take it all off after, okay?” You catch his face get red at your boldness but hey, he didn’t say no.

“Alright, but then you gotta go.” He said slyly making your smile drop.

“What?” You pout.

“I know you have a fancy ball gown.” He states.

“I doubt that thing fits me anymore. I haven’t worn it in at least two years.” You put your hands on your hips confidentially. The dress was your’s when you had to do concerts while in college. It was a navy blue satin ball gown with a lace bodice and ruffles on the ends. There were two strings of lace attached to the neckline that you could cross and tie behind your neck. It was a beautiful gown but you didn’t have a hoop skirt for it, mainly because you hated them. And if you were being perfectly honest you didn’t even know why you had kept it. The chest it lives in was one of the only things that hadn’t burned to the ground with your home, so maybe it was just because it survived. 

You gave Arthur a long hard look as he gave you the most beautiful puppy dog eyes you had ever seen. “No way cowboy.” 

___________

You stomped out of the house in your gown towards the carriage as Arthur, in a tux that really made him look good, exited the house behind you look smug as hell.

Bear danced around you as you stomped towards Dutch and Hosea waiting by the carriage. “Bear, I’ll be back. Watch the camp okay?” Bear barked as if he knew exactly what you said.

“Oh, the princess has decided to join us.” Hosea smiles as you huff and get into the carriage. 

“She’s not happy I talked her into it,” Arthur says proudly.

Dutch and Hosea chuckle as they get in after you. Once they were all in you glanced around, “I thought Bill was comin’?” 

“He’s out looking at a lead and didn’t make it back in time,” Dutch said as the carriage door opened again and Henry slid in and smiled at everyone.

“Are you wearing you’re uniform?” You ask looking at his university uniform.

“Shut up, it was last minute.” He said pulling at his sleeve. “Is that your performance gown?”

“Touche,” You sighed. 

You began to fight with one of the ruffles on your dress when Arthur grabbed your hand. “Calm down, you look beautiful.” The comment made your face turn red.

“He’s right,” Hosea agreed, “She may be too beautiful and we won’t blend in.” You laugh at his comment as dutch begins to pour glasses of champaign as Lenny drives the coach forward.

“Everyone, I want you all to be on your best behavior tonight.” He hands you all a glass but since you don’t really drink to begin with, you just held it. And poured it into Henry’s glass when Dutch and Hosea were busy talking. Henry rolled his eyes and sipped it.

“This should be a great place for pickings.” Hosea smiled.

“Nope, no pickpocketing tonight. We are here for information.” Hosea looked a bit disappointed at Dutch’s rule but didn’t complain. “Twins especially.” You and Henry looked at him confused. “I want you two to get a feel for how we do things. Maybe eventually you can go do jobs on your own.”

Henry eyed you looking a bit uncomfortable. “Uh… we’ll do our best?” You say unsure.

“That’s all I can ask.” He says as the coach stops. 

Henry hops out first and then holds his hand for you to get out. You notice how people stop and stare at what you think is your whole group but when Arthur steps out he can tell right away everyone is staring at you. He softly takes your hand and puts your arm around his. You give him a warm smile still oblivious to all the eyes of men staring at you. 

“I’m kinda nervous,” You admit to him softly.

“Ah, well you’ll be okay. Just stay near me.” 

The five of you walk up to the gates and Dutch hands the man his invitation.

“Ah, yes. Signor Bronte has been expecting you.” The man says allowing you all in. “Oh, but no weapons.”

The men all give their pistols to another butler leaving you last. When the man eyes you, you shrug innocently, “My father won’t let me even touch a gun.” You lie.

The lie works and the man lets you through, unknowing of the gun belt under your dress.

Arthur smirks at you since he knows you have your pistol but doesn’t say anything as you walk into the big house. It’s extremely fancy and almost reminds you of the boarding school you and Henry had grown up in.

“Hosea how about you and Arthur go enjoy the party. The twins and I will go pay our respects to Mr. Bronte.” Dutch suggests.

You give Arthur a worried look not really wanting to see Bronte again. “How about I go up with ya Dutch?” Arthur asks.

“No no, I don’t want to miss an opportunity to show off my pride and joy,” Dutch says proudly as he pulls you and Henry towards the stairs.

 “Well, whose pride and whose joy?” Henry asks trying to calm your nerves.

“Clearly I’m the pride.” You throw back at him jokingly.

“See?” Dutch points out, “They’ll be fine. I’ll make sure Y/N stays between me and Henry.” Dutch waves Arthur off, “Your wife will be fine.”

You catch Hosea’s head snap towards Arthur confused as you three and the servant, you don’t know his name, head upstairs.

“Ah, my dirty cowboy friends! And you bring the cowboy’s bride!” He stands and shakes your father’s hand before shaking Henry’s.

“Signor Bronte, it’s good to see you. You remember my daughter Y/N and this is her twin brother Henry.” You smile at Bronte but stay behind Henry.

“Oh! Two children? I would have killed them years ago! You must be a very strong man.” You and Henry look over the Balcony at the party below as Bronte insults you all even more and talks to your father.

The party looked so classy. You felt maybe you should have done more than just braid your hair as you look at all the women with their fancy up-do hairstyles. Henry bumps your shoulder a bit, “Isn’t that the author guy Father always reads?” 

You look and see a man standing to who you heard Bronte say is the mayor. “Evelyn Miller… Better make sure he doesn’t see him or we’ll never go home.”

“My, you look radiant tonight Y/N.” A rather annoying voice said behind you. Both you and Henry turn to look at Luca. His wife was on his arm but he unashamedly gave you heart eyes and couldn’t keep his eyes away. “I didn’t know you would be here tonight or else I would have left my wife at home.”

Henry and you share a look before looking back at him. “Maybe you shouldn’t be an asshole in front of your wife.” You say kindly.

“Oh, she knows her place.” He lets go of her arm and shoo’s her away. “This must be your brother you always spoke about.” He said extending his hand to Henry.

“Ah, this is the man who played you right?” Henry said to you, ignoring Luca. 

“Yes, that’s him.” You answer. 

Henry turns to Luca and gives him a scary look, “My father and I promised her husband we would keep her safe, so maybe you should go away.”

Luca scoffs, “Oh my, Y/N your brother must really love you to threaten the son of a mob boss.”

“I can threaten you as well.” You say to him. 

You feel your father place a hand on your shoulder, “Dear daughter, let’s mind our manner.”

Bronte laughs, “Ah, young love.” He mumbles something in Italian to Luca. “Mr. Van Der Linde, let me know if you need any more information about the trolly’s but keep me out of it.”

“Thank you, Signor Bronte. I should return my daughter to her husband before he starts to worry.” The men shake hands again before Dutch ushers you and Henry to the stairs.

“I’ll see you again,” Luca says softly as you pass him. You stop for a moment and give him a disgusted look. You didn’t think Luca realized you would kill him if you had to.

“Ah, you poor Americans probably wish it was still the good old days where you could kill anyone and fuck cows.” Bronte and all his Italian friends laugh.

You look at Dutch who looks extremely pissed. But he puts on a fake smile and mumbles, “Yeah, just like the good old days.” 

____________________

As soon as you saw Arthur you moved next to him and took his hand. He smiles down at you, “Well how was it?”

“Luca is here…” You rolled your eyes.

“The boy sure does love showin’ up huh?”

“I mean it is his father’s party” You sigh.

“Arthur,” Dutch calls, “I want you to try to get close to the mayor over there. Y/N I need you to push whatever drama you have with Bronte’s son aside and stay in his good graces.”

You, Arthur and Henry all look at Dutch, “Father, Luca Bronte is too dangerous to be around Y/N.” Henry warns. “He was looking at her up there like a piece of meat.”

“We can’t afford to piss off Bronte.”

“And I refuse to let my wife do something that she don’t want to,” Arthur says crossing his arms.

“I’ll do it.” You say throwing Arthur and Henry off. “If he acts up I’ll kill him.” You say to Dutch.

“No killing.” He warns.

“No promises.” You reply and head over to Luca who was eyeing you after he came downstairs.

[thearrangment-phff]

XXIV. Terms

January 2017

Isabella and Harry were able to be in their room until the New Year's Eve Ball that the Prince of Ligne was hosting. Most of the day and a half was spent talking and Harry had opened up more about his mother to Isabella. Which she thought was a big milestone in their relationship because she knew it was hard for him to talk about his mother in the first place. The stories never got to her death. They were mostly about his childhood and even got to talking about the divorce and how they struggled even more with the press.

New Years was a blur for Isabella. She remembered Harry and being with her family but once it hit midnight everything was forgotten. She woke up around 3 in the afternoon the next day only to find her mother had packed her a bag and informed her she was going to London to meet the Queen.  

The thought of a hangover was gone and filled with shock. Isabella was going to meet the Queen of the United Kingdom, Harry's grandmother, with a hangover. She stormed to her brother Alexander for remedies to get rid of any sign of alcohol then to her mother and grandmother Yolande for a refresher on etiquette.

When they finally landed in London, Harry's personal secretary had informed them they would be meeting the Queen on the second of January. So, Isabella had an extra day to settle in and not be so overwhelmed. Though she wasn't let off the hook with meeting company.

Charles had come to her saying he arranged a family dinner where she would be introduced to Camilla, William, Kate, and their children. Harry watched as Isabella smiled at her father but her hands told another story as the curled and began to shake. She continued to smile and excused herself away to get ready.

Harry was left alone with his father and the look on his face meant he wanted to talk.

"Before you ask everything is fine now. I think her family has family accepted me and the past couple of days were good."

"That's good to hear, but that isn't what I was going to say," smiled Charles.

"Oh, what is it then?"

"After dinner, we will host the heads of several royal houses Isabella is related to. We will be discussing the terms of the marriage between you and Isabella," explained Charles.

"Terms? We have terms? Wouldn't that also give away that this marriage was supposed to be arranged?" Asked Harry.

"We won't be giving anything away, but Isabella's parents have asked that we sit down and discuss terms. They won't be able to come but have sent family remembers as representatives," continued Charles.

"Pa, seriously? What terms are there anyway?!"

"Whether Isabella will be able to marry you for one. Prince Carlos, Duke of Parma is head to the Royal House of Bourbon-Parma and his brother is Dutch ambassador to the Holy See so getting the Pope's permission for your marriage may be needed. Another is whether Isabella will forgo her Catholic religion, another thing the Pope has to agree with. Whether she will keep her title is another question. Her dowry, the jewels, and the land that will come with her as well will need to be discussed. Shall I say more?" asserted Charles.

"No. Will that really need to be discussed?"

"From the looks of it, Isabella's family is trying to keep you away from everything she owns. If she were to die before you, you would gain nothing. You would be lucky to have children with her should that happen or else this is all for nothing."

"I understand," mumbled Harry.

"I have to go get dressed. I suggest you do the same then drive with Isabella to Clarence House in an hour. We will be waiting."

"Okay," replied Harry.

"Oh and Harry. Do not tell your brother about any of this." Harry gave his father a nod and turned around to look at the empty room. Isabella came out 20 minutes later dressed for dinner then Harry left her alone to go change himself.  

As Harry pulled up to Clarence House he caught a glance at Isabella messing with her engagement ring not saying a word, "Are you nervous?"

"A little. Though I shouldn't be," muttered Isabella.

"It's okay to be nervous. I was nervous whenever I met your family."

"I know. I just tired and this was unexpected. I'm just confused right now," replied Isabella still not looking up.

"What are you confused about?" Asked Harry.

"Nothing. Can we please drop it?"

"Okay."

Though Isabella wasn't impressed with Clarence House as Harry thought. She was acting weird since they landed in London. Isabella simply kept on messing around with her engagement ring without rarely talking, which for her was unusual.  

Isabella didn't pay attention as she was led through Clarence House. Her mind on clicked when she was standing in front of Harry's brother and his family. When she shook William's hand his immediate attention went to the ring on her finger then turned to his wife. Her eyes went slightly large for a second before calming down and smiling at Isabella.

"It's so nice to meet you. William and I were so excited to hear you were coming to London," smiled Kate.

"Yes. It's lovely to meet you too. Your children are absolutely adorable."

"Excuse George, he can be a bit shy sometimes," inputted William.

"That's no problem. My nephew is very similar," added Isabella before she crouched down to the little boy's height. Isabella stuck out her hand, "Hello. I'm Isabella, but you can call me Belle."

"I'm George," replied the little boy in a hushed manner.

"Hello George, how old are you?" Asked Isabella as he picked up three fingers, "That's a very big number," smiled Isabella as she got back up. "And this little one must be Charlotte. Oh, she is beautiful. Her name is lovely too, my grandmother and great-grandmother bore that name."

"Thank you. The name Charlotte does suit her very well now," agreed Kate.

"Let us all sit down to eat!" Announced Charles as Camilla stood by his side.

Isabella was seated between William and Camilla with Harry across from her. Kate was on Harry's left and Charles at his right with Charlotte closest to Kate and George with William. Camilla immediately struck up a conversation with Isabella about her family but once they got to Isabella's job working for the United Nations that's when Isabella got passionate. She mentioned working in favor of women's rights and for the welfare of immigrants and refugees escaping their either war-torn countries or leaving because of natural disasters. Isabella found Camilla the easiest to get along with at the table, save Charles and Harry.

William was able to put in a couple of thoughts but tending to George took all of his attention. Even then, Isabella found him to be aggressive and ignorant when trying to talk about either women's right or refugees. Kate had kept quiet, not bothering to contribute to the conversation.

When everyone was done Camilla had finally asked the question Harry had been trying to avoid. He wanted to tell his brother that Isabella had a title of her own in a more private setting, but the question came up and Harry had looked to his father in surprise.

"Isabella, what does your family do?"

"Well my father is a banker and my mother works for the Grand Ducal Family of Luxembourg," answered Isabella.

"Oh, she is a secretary or something?" Asked Kate.

"No. She carries out engagements on behalf of my uncle Henri when he first became Grand Duke."

Harry cleared his throat, "Isabella's uncle is Henri, Grand Duke of Luxembourg. Will, you remember the older Grand Duke when we were younger. He and granny are good friends."

"I faintly remember him. I don’t think Harry mentioned you were related to royal houses," replied Will.

"Surely you have no title since your mother is the princess right?" Asked Kate.

"I do have a title of my own actually. My mother married my father, an Archduke of Austria so I bare the female form of that."

"Though the monarchy doesn't exist so that title isn't anything right," added Will.

"The monarchy doesn't exist, but Isabella also holds the title princess in the Belgian nobility," corrected Harry.

"So many titles," interrupted Kate with an awkward tone.

"Yes, well coming from hundreds of years of royal blood can give you a few connections," agreed Isabella.

"Really? Harry and my father really didn’t clarify."

"My grandmother Josephine Charlotte was a Princess of Belgium. My other grandmother Yolande was born a Princess of Ligne. My grandfather was the Grand Duke and the other was the son of an Emperor."

"So the weddings going to be huge," joked William.

"Isabella is one of six," informs Charles.

"Oh, that sounds interesting! How many brothers? How many sisters?" Asked Camilla.

"The eldest is my sister Marie Christine. Then there's Imre, Christoph, and Alexander. Finally, there's me and my younger sister, Gabriella," answered Isabella.

"Do any of your siblings have children?" Asked Kate.

"My sister has 2 sons, my brother Imre has 2 daughters and my other brother Christoph has one daughter and another baby on the way."

The rest of the night was painful. Isabella answered everyone's questions, but sometimes in not a nice manner. Though in Isabella's opinion, most of them seemed like they were attacking her family. From the number of kids they had to the literal titles of Archduke and Archduchess being meaningless. She didn't take kindly to the comments made about her family being nothing.

Though she had a great shame from being a Habsburg her ancestors included families like the Medici's and Sforzas who paved the way for the Italian renaissance to occur. Kings and Queen of Spain and France. She was the descendant of prominent men like Louis XIV of France, Henry IV of France, Charlemagne, Ferdinand II of Aragon, and Henry VII of England. There were also great women like Isabella of Castile, Empress Maria Theresa, Margaret Beaufort, Catherine de Medici, and Caterina Sforza. She wasn't nothing and neither was her family.

Harry had tried to explain things to Isabella, but once she was mad there was nothing that was going to change that. Harry himself had accidentally said some rude comments about Isabella's family so he had been in that position. William was as oblivious to Isabella's family as Harry was in the beginning. Kate was even more ignorant of Isabella's life.

Isabella grew up speaking four languages. She was educated close to home until she decided she wanted to leave to England for a boarding school. Then decided that she wanted to move to the United States for a university. Rather than stay at her job working for her father she left a stable environment to work for the United Nations. When all of that was going on she would fly to France, Belgium, Liechtenstein, and Luxembourg for weddings, birthday celebrations, and christenings. She rubbed elbows with other European royalty, both the disposed and the ruling.  

When Harry invited William to join he and their father to talk terms about his upcoming marriage to Isabella he had declined. Then Kate whispered some things in his ear and he changed his mind telling the table it would be a learning experience. Isabella was beyond annoyed by the time they were done eating. The only thing that cheered her up was the sight of Joachim and a mystery man who looked similar to the Belgium prince that Harry didn't know.  

With Charles, William, and Harry standing at the entrance entered a large group of men that Harry didn't know. Charles barely knew them. Just as in the beginning they shook the hands of Charles but could care less about William or Harry. William had no idea was going on and Harry's nerves had returned and stronger than ever.

[photograpia]

Travel Thursday: (US 2017) The J Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles

 I was in the United States for almost a month this year getting some clinical experience by shadowing physicians in psychiatry and internal medicine. It was a working trip for the most part- but I was blessed to have family and friends who made the most of the downtime when not in the clinics by exploring art and food with me. 

A day after I had landed at LAX, my godmother (whom I hadn’t spent time with since a trip to Universal Studios in 1996) called and asked if I was willing to go on a spontaneous two-day adventure. She had planned for us to relive the Universal Studios trip 21 years prior on the second day (and we did, though we were sorely disappointed that the ET ride was no longer around) and told me to choose whatever I wanted to do for the first day. Without a second thought I picked what had always been on my art bucketlist: A trip to The J. Paul Getty Museum.

The J Paul Getty Museum at the Getty Center in Los Angeles houses some of the best European art in the US. Jean Paul Getty was an American industrialist, making his fortune in oil. He was an avid collector of art and antiquities, and at his death left the J Paul Getty Trust foundation as the wealthiest art institution in the world. The museum is in the Brentwood neighborhood in LA, an affluent area with homes with beautiful architecture peppered across the hills. A trip to the Getty begins with a tram ride that stretches uphill, showcasing just how lovely the area is. 

Then when you emerge at the top, this is what greets you. It was a perfect day- not a cloud in the sky, sun up, a gentle breeze blowing- and for a moment I completely forgot how jetlagged I was. 

Note that the Getty Center is HUGE. (Map for reference below). So before doing any exploring, we decided to fuel up at the Cafe. 

It needs to be said that the Cafe selection at the Getty is pretty great. It’s cafeteria style with multiple stations- deli, kitchen (full, farm-fresh, from scratch entrees), fiesta (it’s in LA), grill, oven, and a HUGE salad bar (again, in LA). 

I had my first bottle of kombucha since landing in LAX. It was a blueberry bottle from local LA-based brewery Kombuchadog- all the dogs featured on the labels are rescue pups, which is a touch I love! Yes, I am a regular kombucha drinker even if I realize it tends to smell like dank feet. I also do so carefully, because as a medical student I am aware that in excess it may lead to lactic acidosis. Kombucha carefully. 

For lunch I had a grilled chicken sandwich with air-fried fries. In this moment I was reminded about how enormous US serving sizes are compared to the tiny Asian plates I grew up with as reference. But I digress. That was a pretty good (and freshly-made!) meal, giving us sufficient energy to explore the grounds. 

We didn’t have all day at the museum, so we began with the sculptures in the East Pavillion. These three were my favorite:

Bust of Juliette Recamier, Joseph Chinard

The Family of General Philippe Guillame Duhesme, Joseph Chinard

Dancer, Paulo Troubetzky (I repeatedly turn to this image during tough parts of the semester, reminding myself to carry on with grace.)

I have always always loved museums, but have learned through the years that the people visiting them always also play such a big role in the experience. 

It is fascinating how one piece can be understood in so many ways and invoke different emotions. Sometimes it’s passion. Sometimes it’s awe. 

There were so many beautiful paintings that I stood before for such a long time in the South and West pavilions. These are some of them and the history behind them. 

Study of Clouds with a Sunset near Rome, Simon Denis, 1801

I know I sound like a broken record saying this, but my all-time favorite Philippine national artist is Fernando Amorsolo. His mastery of the use of light and the integration into local landscape scenes is unparalleled- and I often find myself looking for work similar to his when I travel. 

Denis painted this in Rome, and the weather an impending storm. It isn’t hard to see that in the oil painting, but his technique is seen in precisely how easy it is to see that from the use of light and textures. There is light contrasting with darkness to show the stark contrast in the change in weather. The strokes are done in a manner that you can see how fluffy the clouds are- but also how moist and heavy they must be, full of rain. Denis has a whole series of cloud paintings to hone this skill set (this is the 78th one), and it is a testament to how practice makes perfect. 

Spring, Lawrence Alma-Tadema, 1894

It was the detail in this painting that really caught my attention. It’s a huge painting- almost as tall as the wall from which it hung- but a closer look shows such vibrant colors and such attention to detail. Lawrence Alma-Tadema was a Dutch painter who specialized in Merovingian and Egyptian scenes but after a trip to Rome began painting what he envisioned as lively scenes from Pompeii, as is depicted here. The women and children carrying flowers in this procession are a reference of the Victorian custom of May Day, but juxtaposed against ancient Roman architecture. Almost half a decade after Spring was painted, it inspired certain imagery used in the iconic Cecille Demille film Cleopatra. 

Portrait of Maria Frederike van Reede-Athlone at Seven Years of Age, Jean Etienne Liotard, 1756

I’m not even going to pretend to have a deep reason for liking this painting- I saw it and loved it because it was about a girl and her dog. I liked it so much I ended up buying the magnet at the museum gift shop and it is currently on my refrigerator, holding up the Rustans sticker sheet for the Goodness Gang vegetable plushie I have yet to claim. 

Historically though, this portrait is a good example of changing attitudes toward children in the late 18th century Europe, and how commissions for children began then. Liotard used pastels for this portrait- as he often did for portraits of children because it was easy to manipulate quickly in case of interruptions- and let’s be real- with kids there’s bound to be a number. Also need to point out that while Maria is seen here as shy, her dog appears unabashedly curious and is looking straight out to the artist AND SMILING. 

Pepilla the Gypsy and Her Daughter, Joaquin Sorolla, 1910

It was my boyfriend who introduced me to Joaquin Sorolla’s work on his last trip to Spain. Sorolla’s work is mostly impressionist and he’s best known for his beach scenes (an example below). I loved this because of the warm Mediterranean colors and the tenderness that it shows. This made me miss my mom. 

La Promenade, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1870

You remember that scene in Frozen where Anna and Elsa are preparing for the ball, and Anna jumps by the giant portrait of a girl on a swing in her excitement? No disrespect to any one who hates Frozen, but that delight pretty much encapsulates what I feel each time I stand before a Renoir. And I personally really love Frozen as a film, so this is a compliment more than anything. 

Promenade (not the name the painter gave this piece) is a homage to the artists he was working with. The light and luminous palette with the feathery brushwork is akin to Claude Monet. You see the greens and browns of Gustave Courbet. The subject- a jaunt through the garden, is inspired by the work of Jean-Antoine Watteau and Jean-Honoré Fragonard that Renoir studied at the Lourve. The couple gazes at each other- to convey a sort of intimacy and depth.

Jeanne (Spring), Edouard Manet, 1881

Jeanne in this portrait is Jeanne Demarsay, a popular Parisian actress from the 1880s. She’s best remembered for having sat for portraits for both Manet and Renoir (Portrait of Mlle de Marsy). 

Spring was one of Manet’s last works, and is one where you can clearly see his mastery of the art form. It is a dance of the modern (seen in the fashion, that Manet pieced together himself) and the traditional (the painting style, that early Italian Renaissance profile). It is such a sensual and bright portrait. 

Portrait of Leonilla, Princess of Sayn-Wittgenstein-Sayn, Franz Xaver Winterhalter, 1843

It needs to be said that if Leonilla were not a princess, this pose would have never been allowed for a portrait of its time. Reclining on a low Turkish sofa at a veranda, this scene was often in reference to harems and odalisques. That this was made at Leonilla’s insistence says so much about her strength and tenacity as well. Known for her great beauty and intellect, she sits confidently in ivory silk, casually reaching for the pearls on her neck while holding a steady, strong gaze. 

Irises, Vincent Van Gogh

Two weeks ago I saw the film Loving Vincent, which is art in itself (the first fully painted animated feature film) and looks back on the circumstances surrounding Van Gogh’s death. I also found it to be a subconscious treastise on mental health, which I think is of value to consider when one looks at Van Gogh’s art. 

Irises was one of the first paintings Vincent Van Gogh made after he checked himself into the asylum n Saint-Rémy, France. He had been going through bouts of depression and self-mutilation prior to this and his art became part of his healing at the asylum. It was inspired by Japanese woodblock prints and is notable for the curves and waves of the irises- people remark that it is as though he fully understood what it meant for flowers to move. I love this painting more so after realizing the context- that despite the circumstances and the darkness he evidently felt at the time, he managed to create art that showed such air and life. 

My jetlagged but thrilled self at the gardens, heart full after being surrounded by such art. If you find yourself in LA and haven’t gone yet, you must must must go visit the Getty! 

[peanutdream]

Hey.............. Do all those ask things please I am Curious enjoy

1.      Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? 

Spotify. I don’t think I can even use Pandora since I’m from theNetherlands?? Last time I checked I couldn’t.

2.      is your room messy or clean?

A combination ofboth.

3.      what color are your eyes?

I think it’sgreenish??

4.      do you like your name? why?

 I used to really dislike it, but that was mainly because there was a Dutch song about my name (this one) that some boys from my class sang EVERY fucking school day, and sometimes even multiple times a day. It really ruined my name for me. Recently, though, my mom told me that?? The song came out somewhere around the time before my grandpa died when he was still hospitalized?? and?? he heard the song and liked it??? So i don’t really hate the song anymore, and I’ve kinda grown to like my name again. A lot of people still refer to me as ‘Rose’, though, since that’s just a lot shorter.

5.      what is your relationship status? 

Single and ready to eat an entire baguette.

6.      describe your personality in 3 words or less

funny jumpluff eat

7.      what color hair do you have?

Dark blone

8.      what kind of car do you drive? color?

I haven’t really driven in my mom’s car yet but it’s silver colored.

9.      where do you shop?

stores, usually. I mostly buy stuff at the mall that’s in my town, but sometimes I feel Fancy and I take the bus to a nearby city.

10.  how would you describe your style?

“i wish I was as cute as some of my clothes”

11.  favorite social media account

??????????????? of the ones I own?? someone else’s??? U gotta be more specific.

12.  what size bed do you have? 

a normal one. for a single person. because i’m single.

13.  any siblings?

Nope!

14.  if you can live anywhere in the world wherewould it be? why?

Mmm, somewhere near a forest is Great.

15.  favorite snapchat filter? 

I Don’t Use SnapChat Enough For This But I Remember One With A Princess In A Car And I Think That One Is Pretty Rad

16.  favorite makeup brand(s)

I never......... buy make-up............. I wish i did, though. Sometimes I want to buy some, but then it’s like?? it’s expensive, and I don’t really know what I would need to buy anyway.

17.  how many times a week do you shower?

Depends on how many times I need to go out. I do shower atleast once every two days, though.

18.  favorite tv show?

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Do series count? or just?? random shows?? Or can I just put in a random show that I’ve recently watched?? because then I’m just going to say Grace & Frankie because that one is Very Good.

19.  shoe size?

smol. 38 I think.

20.  how tall are you?

also very smol. 1.57 meters.

21.  sandals or sneakers? 

Sneakers when I have to walk A Lot, sandals when I’m at the beach or just?? at home I guess.

22.  do you go to the gym? 

lol no.

23.  describe your dream date

That’s a tough one. I’d have to say April 25th, because it’s not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket!

idk dude I think just?? hanging out with the person I really like would be very chill already?? Maybe some looking at the stars and?? laying outside in a grassfield?? that sounds pretty chill I think.

24.  how much money do you have in your wallet atthe moment?

About 7 euros I think

25.  what color socks are you wearing? 

Black + pink.

26.  how many pillows do you sleep with?

One normal head pillow + 2 neck pillow things.

27.  do you have a job? what do you do? 

haha no.

28.  how many friends do you have? 

6 close friends and?? a Whole Bunch of people that I consider friends but that I don’t talk as much with.

29.  whats the worst thing you have ever done? 

I’m not sure honestly, although I probably have done or said some bad things?? 

30.  whats your favorite candle scent? 

Roses and other flowers.

31.  3 favorite boy names

shrek, donkey, farquaad.

32.  3 favorite girl names

fiona, dragon, uhhhh fiona’s mom.

33.  favorite actor? 

Ryan Reynolds or Tom Hanks.

34.  favorite actress? 

Merryl Streep or Viola Davis

35.  who is your celebrity crush?

shit I don’t know dude. 

36.  favorite movie? 

shit there are so many movies that I love??? The Swan Princess, Matilda, Forrest Gump, A Lot Of Disney Movies, La Vita e Bella, Miss Congeniality and?? a lot more I think??

37.  do you read a lot? whats your favoritebook? 

Dead Withc Walking by Kim Harrison, although I really love the HP books too. I love reading and wish I did it more tbh.

38.  money or brains? 

money seems to be working pretty well for trump but honestly i think i prefer brains.

39.  do you have a nickname? what is it? 

Rose. There was this one week where my nickname was Cheese though.

40.  how many times have you been to the hospital?

I went to the hospital pretty often as a child because I was?? Not Very Tall?? and the docters were Concerned or something. they basically took some blood and checked how much I had grown since the last time I visited. 

When that was done I didn’t visit the hospital until I got hit by a car on my way to school and broke my clavicle. It hurt. A Lot.

The last time I went was like, 2 years ago?? To get my thyroid tested?? I was basically Really Fucking Anxious back then and constantly felt like?? Like shit I guess?? And as if I was going to die?? Sort of?? but not really?? Let’s just keep it at “I was really anxious about having a fast heartbeat” to keep it simple. I’m over it now, though. God, even just walking made me anxious back then. 

41.  top 10 favorite songs

NICE that’s more than ONE song. They’re not going to be in any particular order though. And also probably more than 10.

Day6: I Wait - Congratulations - I’m Serious.

Fall Out Boy: Sugar, We’re Going Down - Miss Missing You - Young Volcanoes - Rat a Tat

BTS: RUN - INTRO: What Am I To You - Crowtit - Ma City

Shortstraw: Thailand

Walk the Moon: Tightrope - Anna Sun - Shut Up and Dance 

Man Man: Loot My Body

Raleigh Ritchie: The Greatest - You’re A Man Now Boy

42.  do you take any medications daily? 

hell yeah. The Good Shit That Helps Me Against Hayfever.

43.  what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

Dry hands, oily face

44.  what is your biggest fear? 

Losing my friends.

45.  how many kids do you want? 

Not sure. No kids?? One kid??? I think it eventually also depends on my partner I guess??

46.  whats your go to hair style?

“Listen I combed my hair but the moment I stepped outside the wind acted like an asshole.”

47.  what type of house do you live in? (big, small,etc) 

medium house.

48.  who is your role model? 

ONE, as in, the one who came up with One Punch Man. 

49.  what was the last compliment you received?

“I like your sweater.” 

50.  what was the last text you sent?

“I’m home around 2:30, want to drink some coffee together?” = me @ my mom.

51.  how old were you when you found out santawasn’t real?

I never believed in Santa. as in, the american one. I think I was like, 10 or something when my mom told me Sinterklaas doesn’t exist??

52.  what is your dream car? 

one i can drive in without crying.

53.  opinion on smoking?

please don’t blow your smoke in my face. I personally dislike it but?? it’s your choice if you want to smoke.

54.  do you go to college? 

hell yeah.

55.  what is your dream job? 

Something I genuinely enjoy, that happens to pay decently.

56.  would you rather live in rural areas or thesuburbs? 

Suburbs I think??

57.  do you take shampoo and conditioner bottlesfrom hotels? 

I don;t visit hotels often enough to steal enything from them.

58.  do you have freckles? 

Don’t think so.

59.  do you smile for pictures?

I do. That is, when I’m not avoiding the person who is taking the pictures. 

60.  how many pictures do you have on yourphone? 

117

61.  have you ever peed in the woods? 

Yes. It is necessary if you want to play in the woods without peeing your pants, really.

62.  do you still watch cartoons? 

hell yeah!!

63.  do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s orMcDonalds?

I didn’t visit a Wendy’s during their one year stay in the Netherlands, so I can’t really compare them. 

64.  Favorite dipping sauce? 

Sour Cream.

65.  what do you wear to bed? 

Pyjama’s. As long as it’s something that I can wear pj pants with, it’s fine for me. I really hate not wearing pants during summer. the sticky sweat feeling between my legs is the worst.

66.  have you ever won a spelling bee?

We don’t really have those in the Netherlands lol.

67.  what are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, gaming? ? I think?? can talking with friends count as a hobby?

68.  can you draw? 

Depends on what it is that I need to draw.

69.  do you play an instrument?

I can play the (acoustic) guitar and the glockenspiel!! Also a little bit of recorder!! 

70.  what was the last concert you saw? 

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I think it was a Fall Out Boy concert?? From their American Beauty/America Psycho tour??

71.  tea or coffee?

Coffee. Tea is alright but it’s?? ?? ? yeah.

72.  Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

it’s been, what, a month since a Dunkin Donuts first opened in the Netherlands??? Somewhere in Amsterdam even I think?? So uhhh. no. I don’t really have any reference material.

73.  do you want to get married?

I think so.

74.  what is your crush’s first and last initial?

l i sten  n o.

75.  are you going to change your last name when youget married? 

Maybe?? If it’s not something like Naaktgeboren?? because there was an episode on Zoop where someone’s name was Ben Naaktgeboren which may sound ok if you’re not Dutch but it’s not a name I’d like to have.

76.  what color looks best on you? 

Green/red??

77.  do you miss anyone right now? 

I sometimes wish I lived closer to my online friends so I could hang out with them more but?? I can still talk to them whenever. I do sometimes miss my grandparents though.

78.  do you sleep with your door open or closed?

It’s usually not entirely closed.

79.  do you believe in ghosts?

Not really.

80.  what is your biggest pet peeve? 

when an inanimate object still falls over even though i’ve called it “dude!” and “bro!” many, many times.

81.  last person you called`

My phone says it’s my mom.

82.  favorite ice cream flavor? Lemon

83.  regular oreos or golden oreos? 

what the hell are golden oreos????? Why would you eat gold????

84.  chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? 

Chocolate

85.  what shirt are you wearing? 

One with Dory on it with the text “I have 99 problems but can’t remember ONE

86.  what is your phone background?

(This picture)

87.  are you outgoing or shy?

I used to be Super Shy, but now it’s getting a little bit less I think?? I’m pretty outgoing when I’m with friends, though.

88.  do you like it when people play with your hair?

hell yeah.

89.  do you like your neighbors? 

I don’t really know them but I think they’re alright??? 

90.  do you wash your face? at night? in themorning?

Before + after sleeping.

91.  have you ever been high? 

nah

92.  have you ever been drunk? 

nope

93.  last thing you ate? 

un petitfour

94.  favorite lyrics right now

Basically just?? the lyrics of If I Could Tell Her from Dear Evan Hansen. god I love that song.

95.  summer or winter? 

summer.

96.  day or night? 

both?? 

97.  dark, milk, or white chocolate? 

All of them. 

98.  favorite month? 

June bc it’s my birthday month B)

99.  what is your zodiac sign

Cancer

100.   who was the last person you cried in frontof? 

My mom, probably?? 

Thanks for letting me answer all these questions!!