#because dutch is a crap parent

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Random thought dump on Arthur (ft. Dutch and Hosea's parenting):

From the beginning it is clear that Dutch and Hosea have played a large part in Arthur's personality. Obviously, they both raised him, so it's to be expected. But there's a large difference in how their "parenting" has altered Arthur's mentality.

Towards the end, Arthur begins looking at Dutch's plans more realistically. He has always shown scepticism every now and then, but most of the time took Dutch's word and would follow him. But in later chapters he does begin to point out the flaws and starts to weigh the pros and cons of each plan. Is it possible? What's the risk of injury or worse? And ultimately, is the outcome worth it? I believe that a lot of this has come from Hosea. Even Dutch says that he sounds like Hosea and I think that while he always had this thought process within him internally, he never really leant into it because Hosea was always the one there to express them verbally. He had subconsciously picked up Hosea's reasoning but hadn't seen any need for it up until this point (or just chose to ignore it). He never wanted to be the one to criticise Dutch if he didn't have to.

And I think a lot of that is down to Dutch's parenting (or lack thereof). Yes, he taught Arthur to read/write, but he treats Arthur more like an object than Hosea ever did. Arthur is praised by Dutch for the outcome of his missions. If Arthur successfully collects money for the camp, then that's when he gets Dutch's praise. And I'm sure this was the case when Arthur was younger as well. But Arthur begins to base his own value on how much he contributes to the camp (I can picture a young Arthur feeling dejected because Dutch has criticised him for a mission that wasn't a "success"). Hosea was always one to tell him to look after himself, but Dutch would only tell him to treat himself if he did something well. And that's part of why Arthur's self-esteem is so low.

Let's be real, Arthur's self-esteem is through the FLOOR. The bar is so low you can't even limbo under it. And it's because Dutch's "parenting" has caused Arthur to base his worth on contributions alone. And Arthur is so critical of himself over whether or not he pleased DUTCH. Not himself. He has no pride for himself. He just wants recognition from a guy who saved him, even if the man doesn't appreciate him for who he actually is.

But it can't all be attributed to Dutch. Some of it's just down to Arthur's lifestyle. He's an outlaw. In the eyes of the world, outlaws aren't good people. It doesn't matter what struggles they went through to get there, they are not people doing everything they can to survive, they are just bad. And Arthur views himself like that. He doesn't even entertain the idea that he could be a good person and because of that, he doesn't act on it.

In the beginning, Arthur can be quite harsh and admittedly just a bit of an a-hole. And that's because he has no self-worth. If he isn't a good person, why act like one? In his mind, he isn't good because of the life he's led.

But it's such a ridiculous thought! The gang itself is the perfect example of how lifestyle does not always determine personality.

You have Micah, who is just the worst person alive and has no redeemable qualities. But on the opposite side you have Charles. Also an outlaw. Has also killed people. But is undoubtedly a good person through and through.

And Charles is one of the ones that tries to draw the good side out of Arthur.

"You ain't as tough and dense as all that"

He knows that there's a good side in Arthur that the man is just refusing to see. And Mary-Beth does it as well. Through little chats at camp she tells Arthur that he is a good person and that just killing people is not like him.

And sadly Arthur doesn't see it till it's a little too late.

But there's one thing that I noticed in Arthur that I didn't notice before. At the beginning, it was always about success or failure. That's something that was probably instilled in him from Dutch. But by the end, not so much.

He begins to open up to his good side. Helps the Wapiti tribe, absolves people's debt and helps John live the life that Arthur never had the chance to.

"in the end... I tried... I did"

He accepts that he didn't "win". But he acknowledges that he tried. And honestly, I think that that is, in part, Arthur finally come to peace with the fact that you are not a failure if things don't go to plan. In the end, sometimes trying is all you can do. And it took so long to reach there because Dutch made him feel like a failure when things went wrong.

(Also, Mary leaving him and the deaths of Eliza and Isaac wouldn't have helped either, but this post is already so long that my brain is starting to stop working).

I don't know if any of these thoughts are actually that coherent, or if it totally makes sense, but I just needed to dump them somewhere and Tumblr seemed good enough.

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo

It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.

You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.

Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)

Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!

Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB

You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.

The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.

*beginning of flashback*

"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.

"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"

"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.

He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.

"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.

*end of flashback*

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.

You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.

You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.

"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.

"Good news?" you asked him.

"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.

"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.

"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."

"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.

"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.

"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.

"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.

"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.

"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.

He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!

"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.

"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.

You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.

"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.

"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.

"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.

You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.

"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.

"I'll never understand how you drink that"

"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"

"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.

"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.

"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.

"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.

"It's true, though"

"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.

"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.

"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"

"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.

"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.

"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.

"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.

"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.

"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.

"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.

"Tomorrow?" you asked her.

"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.

"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.

"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"

"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.

"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.

"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.

"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.

"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.

"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.

"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.

"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.

"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.

"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.

"Burn!" Daniel laughed.

"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.

"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.

"Perfect!" she beamed.

>>> end of part 1 <<<

[bagelboys-withcreamcheese]

Arthur x Male!Reader Quotes

Modern AU 🥰

~~

Reader: *picking up Arthur for a date* I want to see my little boy~

John: Here he comes~

Arthur: *Blushing™️* Would you two shut up.

—

*Arthur recording Reader doing something stupid*

Arthur: Somebody come get your man.

Reader: I’m your man?

Arthur: Yeah, but I don’t feel like taking responsibility right now.

—

*At the store*

Arthur: Look at these cute pens!

Reader: That’s gay.

Arthur:

Arthur: Y/N, we’ve been dating-

—

Lenny: Why is it referred to as coming out of the closet?

Sean: Yeah! Like it could be coming out of anything. What wasted potential.

Reader: Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just guys~

—

Reader: I’m fucking stupid.

Also Reader: *wearing a ‘I’m with stupid’ shirt with the arrow pointing at Arthur*

—

*texting*

Arthur: Can you come out?

Reader: Okay

Reader: Arthur, I’m gay.

Arthur: I know that, dumbass, I meant come out to the car

Reader: Car, I’m gay.

—

Arthur: If it excites you and scares the crap out of you at the same time that means you should probably do it.

Reader: Time to fuck a blender!

Arthur: Wait no-

—

Hosea: Why are there gates around cemeteries?

Reader: Why?

Hosea: Because people are dying to get in!

Arthur: I’m begging you both to stop-

—

Sean: If you sleep with more than two pillows you’re a psychopath.

Reader: *in a nest of pillows* A comfortable psychopath.

—

*watching Netflix*

Arthur: It’s getting late, I should go to bed. I’ll hate myself in the morning if I don’t get enough sleep.

Reader: *without taking his eyes off the screen* You already hate yourself, watch the next episode with me.

—

John: *walking into Readers room* Hey, Y/N, have you seen my-

*Reader, on the floor, getting crushed underneath a sleeping Arthur*

Reader: ᴴᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵖˡˢ

—

Reader: Good morning, everyone! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem.

—

Reader: Why did Susie fall off the swing?

Hosea: Why?

Reader: Because she didn’t have any arms.

Reader: Knock knock

Hosea: Who’s there?

Reader: Not Susie.

—

Reader: Say what you want about Pedophiles but at least they drive slow through school zones.

Hosea: *WHEEZE*

—

Reader: *T-posing* Greetings, parental figures.

Hosea: *without looking up from his book* Good morning, problem child.

Dutch: ???

—

Reader: *raspy sleep voice* G’morning, Pumpkin.

Arthur: *Chokes on his coffee*

—

Reader: Alexa! Blow up!

Alexa: I’ll start the self destruct sequence-

Arthur: NO! NO-

—

Arthur: *jokingly* Who are you texting?

Reader: *playing with Jack’s toy phone*

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 3)

Summary: Dean talks with Sam about his growing feelings for the reader before inviting her and Tessa over for the evening. Later on in the week, Dean and the reader head out on a date but it doesn’t exactly end smoothly...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,500ish

Warnings: language, brief mention of sex toys, minor frightening situation

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Dean’s POV

“Hey,” said Dean, answering his phone as he walked around the grocery store after dropping Y/N off at home. “You gonna come over for the game, Sammy?”

“I got a brief I need to write up for my boss unfortunately,” said Sam. “I can’t wait to quit.”

“Same. You tried these baked barbecue chips yet?” asked Dean, picking up a bag.

“Trying to force your guests to be healthy for once, doctor?” teased Sam.

“Well the girls are having a spa day thing I forgot about and Y/N and Tessa are coming over later for the game so I don’t want it to be a total dude fest of beer and more beer,” said Dean, putting the bag back and get some regular baked ones instead. “They should be over by second half but still.”

“Trying to impress this girl or something? With chips?” laughed Sam. Dean groaned and threw his head back. “Dean. You’re overthinking this. You know brownies are the real way to a woman’s heart.”

“See? I knew there was a reason I didn’t hang up on you yet,” said Dean, turning down the snack aisle.

“I take it the date went well if she’s coming over to hang out.”

“Yeah. She’s cool.”

“She’s cool? That’s all I’m gonna get?” asked Sam. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since you were twenty two and now that you have one it’s just cool?”

“Fine. I like her. She’s cute and she smells pretty and she’s…” trailed off Dean, tossing a tub of brownie bites in the cart.

“She’s what?” asked Sam.

“She gets me, gets what we went through.”

“Her parents fuck ups too?”

“No. But they died a few years ago. She’s got a sister about nine years younger. She’s just starting her senior year now. She’s had to raise her the past few years on her own.”

“...She really does get you then,” said Sam. “Where’d you meet her again?”

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood. She was looking for their dog. They’re having a really hard time of it right now it sounds like but she just, keeps going with a smile.”

“She’s not a damsel though. Don’t try and sweep in and save the day too much you know. You’d hate that.”

“I know. I helped her get a job at our office since she just lost hers and they’re crunched on cash. Plus the sister is going to college next year,” said Dean.

“She should apply to that grant you got. Mr. Y/L/N helped you with it, right?” asked Sam.

“Yeah he...what’d you just say?” asked Dean, pausing in front of the dip section.

“The grant money. It paid for nearly all your undergraduate right?” asked Sam. “It’s the same one I did too.”

“Mr. Y/L/N,” said Dean, shutting his eyes as he realized why Y/N’s house looked so familiar. “Sammy.”

“What?”

“Y/N, the girl, her house...where was Mr. Y/L/N’s house?” asked Dean.

“Over on Pine I think,” said Sam. “I know it’s in your neighborhood somewhere.”

“Oh Sammy. Shit,” said Dean. “I think I know why he stopped talking to us a few years ago. His house, that’s Y/N’s house. Mr. Y/L/N was her dad, Sam.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way. Fuck,” said Dean adding some sour cream and onion and guacamole to the cart. “She’s gonna think I’m just trying to pay her back for what he did or something.”

“Yeah but you didn’t know that when you got her the job. You gotta tell her at some point but it doesn’t have to be a problem,” said Sam.

“Well what if he went and told his family about the guy he caught stealing? I’m sure she’d think I’m great then. Of course, the one woman that I’m like…”

“You’re like what?” asked Sam. Dean was quiet, heading over towards the beer cooler. “In love with?”

“Geez, Sam. I barely know her. I’m not in love with her,” said Dean. “I just...I could see myself being in love with her.”

“So...you pre-love her,” said Sam.

“Exactly.”

“Yeah there’s no such thing, dumbass. You’re fucking falling for this girl and fast.”

“I know,” said Dean, shutting his eyes by the milk. “She just...she feels like you. Like she’s got no ulterior motive. I just...something is telling me I can’t fuck this up. I’m not supposed to.”

“Then you won’t,” said Sam. “You sure it’s not like that thing with Lisa?”

“That was me ignoring all the crap because I thought somebody loved me. Sam the moment I met this girl like...I don’t know,” said Dean. “I don’t think she’ll fuck me over.”

“I hope she works out. She sounds special.”

“She is and that is terrifying.”

“Dean contrary to what we grew up with and how your love life has gone so far, there are people that have amazing relationships out there. You can be one of them if you want,” he said. 

“I know. Take a break and call at halftime or something, okay? The losers miss seeing your face too.”

“I will. Talk to you soon Dean.”

Reader’s POV

“Hello, Y/N,” said Tessa as you walked past her room an hour later. “How was Dean’s?”

“Good. He invited us over later to watch football. Some guys your age will be there too if you’re interested.”

“Alright,” she said. “Hey so you know how we were talking about sex stuff yesterday?”

“Oh yeah. We were gonna talk more,” you said. You took a seat in her desk chair and she sat up on her bed. “The fake dick thing, that was throwing you off, right?”

“Yeah. Well, I kinda talked to Hailey about that stuff last night and she has one. She like showed me it so I kinda get that apparently it feels good if there’s something up there?” she asked.

“Yes, it does. What’s with the questions about sex toys?” you asked.

“I know my birthday is coming up and I’ll be eighteen and I kinda…I’m a hormonal teenager and-”

“I can get you a private gift,” you said with a smile. “Just shut your door if you’re gonna do it when I’m home, okay?”

“I do that now.”

“Good,” you said. “I’ll pick out something small and by the time you want something more, then you can pick that out on your own, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “Did mom ever...talk about this stuff with you?”

“No,” you said with a laugh. “I found out on my own. It’s perfectly normal and natural and guys aren’t the only ones allowed to get off on their own.”

“Not sure I’d ever ask her anyways,” she said.

“That’s what sisters are for,” you said. “You have fun at Hailey’s then?”

“Mhm. It’s okay if Toast goes to Dean’s later right?”

“Uh, let me check quick,” you said, pulling out your phone.

Hey. Toast can come over too right?

Duh, Y/L/N. He’s more than welcome. 

Okay. We’ll see you later.

Later sweetheart.

“Yeah, Toast is cool,” you said. You stood and Tessa cocked her head, smiling at you. “What?”

“How was your date?” she asked. 

“I like him. I like him a lot.”

“Good. Tell him if he fucks with you though I’ll kick his ass,” she said. “So will Toast.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it with this one.”

“Whoa, whoa, ladies,” said Dean as you and Tessa started to put on your shoes to head home after the game. “It’s only seven and you two need dinner.”

“What are you making?” asked Tessa.

“I was going to do enchiladas?” he said. Tessa looked at you and you nodded.

“Only if we help though,” you said.

“Alright. Tessa how about you make up some guac for us. You can hang out at the counter, get off that ankle of yours,” said Dean.

“He so likes you,” she said as you walked back with her to the kitchen.

“Yes, I do,” chuckled Dean. Toast followed close by and whined, pawing at your foot. “She okay?”

“My meds are home. Supposed to have them with dinner,” said Tessa with a sigh.

“I can run home and get them real quick,” you said. “Ten minutes.”

“Alright. We’ll get started without you.”

Ten minutes later you were back along with some of Toast’s dog food. You could hear laughter coming from the kitchen, Tessa snorting to herself.

“Here you go dork,” you said, popping the bottle down in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a few. You used a bowl and fed Toast some dinner while Dean worked on putting the tortillas together. “I like your doctor boyfriend.”

“Oh course you do,” you said, smacking her arm.

“Someone told me she’s turning eighteen in a few weeks. You got any big plans?” he asked as he tucked the last enchilada in a casserole dish.

“We might get a pizza,” said Tessa. “Nothing fancy.”

“Oh I think we can do better than that,” you said with a smile.

“I thought…” said Tessa and you shrugged. “We’re going out? Are we going to Monico’s like we used to?”

“Monico’s? That’s very fancy,” said Dean, giving you a quick look. “You got room for one more?”

“I…” you said, Dean cocking his head. “Sure. You wouldn’t mind, would you Tessa?”

“Yeah, Dean can come,” she said. “Oh shit, would they even let Toast in?”

“He’s a service dog so legally yes, they have to,” said Dean as he popped the casserole in the oven. “Y/N, why don’t you help me set the table. I never eat in the dining room anyways.”

You carried some plates in the room around the front of the house, staring at Dean as he set some spots down.

“Dean. That is a hundred dollar a plate restaurant.”

“It’s her eighteenth birthday and mine was real shitty. I can afford it. Let me. Please.”

“You can’t just buy stuff for her or me.”

“Why not? I like you. I care about you and she’s part of that so I think caring about her is going to be pretty important to you at some point so I might as well start now.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“Thank you,” you said. 

“Oh. Well...okay then.” You left the plates on the table and walked around to where he was, Dean glancing away when you wrapped your arm around his waist.

“Let me go dutch at least.”

“Bake me a pie and we’re even,” he said.

“Alright. Pie is it, Dean.”

Thursday Afternoon

“Hello, Y/N,” said Dean. He grinned as he walked into the lab. “How’s the first week going?”

“She’s a fast learner,” said the lab manager. “What do you need, Winchester?”

“Just saying hi to our new colleague,” he said. 

“I already know she’s your girlfriend, Dean.”

“You’re no fun, Wesley,” said Dean. “You like it?”

“I like the pay. Wesley says after a little while I can take some certification courses and work on more complex things. The research hospital tied with the university is really good for that stuff,” you said.

“Oh yeah, those guys do pretty well over there. I think our last tech went on to the radiology program over there. I know blood and urine samples aren’t the most fun thing to work on but-”

“Dean this is more than what I was making as a paralegal even,” you said quietly. “This job is great and Tessa’s on better insurance now. Honestly. I owe you one.”

“All you owe me is a pie,” he chuckled. “You got plans tonight? I know you’ve been busy.”

“I’m free if you had something in mind,” you said.

“Do you maybe want to go out for dinner? Maybe do a round of bowling?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Sounds fun. Pick me up at six thirty?”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart.”

“Okay, were you conning me?” asked Dean as you walked back to his car that evening. You giggled and he pulled you into a noogie. “How the fuck do you go from a twenty eight your first game to one fifty? There is no way you weren’t pulling a fast one.”

“What can I say, maybe I just needed a warm up game,” you said. Dean ruffled your hair for a moment before fixing it, leaving his arm around your shoulder when your phone rang. “Hey Tess. What’s up?”

“I think somebody’s in the house,” she said quietly. “I’m in my closet with Toast.”

“Dean, call 911,” you said, his hand already moving into his pocket. “Someone’s in the house.”

“Y/N, I think they’re upstairs,” she whispered.

“Don’t say a word. I’m right here and Dean’s calling the cops right now. Toast’ll protect you until they get there okay?” you said. 

“Y/N, they say they’re already responding to a call your neighbor put in. The cops are there?” said Dean.

“Hello, Elmdale police department. Anyone home?” said a voice through the phone.

“Tessa it’s okay. Those are the police,” you said. “We’ll be home in five minutes okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Thanks again,” you said, saying goodnight to the officers. You shut the door after yourself, Tessa sat on the couch with her arms crossed. “Tessa how many times have I told you. At night, you lock the front door. The storm door is broken and has been forever. The front door’s been wide open for hours.”

“I don’t need you to yell at me,” she said.

“Tessa somebody could have walked right on in and-”

“Oh my God, I know,” she said. She stormed upstairs and slammed her door shut, opening it quickly for Toast to come inside before it slammed again.

“I’ve told her so many times,” you said as you paced the family room. Dean walked over and rubbed your arms, kissing your forehead. “Sorry.”

“She made a mistake. Kids make them. So do adults.”

“I know she’s shaken up,” you said. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Yeah but maybe she won’t do it again,” he said. “She’s not the only one shaken up.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said.

“How about I crash on the couch tonight,” he said. “Give you girls some peace of mind.”

“You can sleep in my room,” you said.

“I thought you had a twin sized bed,” he chuckled. “The couch is fine. I want to. I wasn’t just talking about you two either.”

“You’re sweet,” you said.

“Oh I’m very aware,” he said. “Go talk to your sister.”

“There’s blankets in the cupboard under the TV,” you said.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. He kissed you and you headed upstairs, knocking on Tessa’s door. 

“Tess. Can we talk?” you asked. The door opened slowly and she had her arms crossed at you. “I’m sorry for freaking out. I got scared too.”

“I’m sorry I forgot about the door again,” she said quietly.

“Tessa, we...we gotta protect ourselves. We gotta make sure we do things like lock doors and windows at night. Two young women alone in a house...I know your mind already went there once tonight. Please, please remember to lock the door from now, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Dean’s gonna stay the night on the couch downstairs,” you said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. Nothing’s gonna get past him,” you said.

“He seems like a really good guy. You deserve one of those,” she said.

“I think so too,” you said. “Night.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Dean’s POV

“Sammy boy, isn’t it past your bedtime?” chuckled Dean as he answered his phone, watching some late night TV quietly from Y/N’s couch.

“Shut up. How big is the guest room at your house? I was thinking of getting a new bed and just having it delivered there.”

“Oh, you finally gonna get off that tiny ass mattress?” teased Dean.

“De…”

“You can have the spare bedroom at the end. It’s bigger, got it’s own attached bath. Plus it’s empty so win win.”

“Would a king fit?” he asked.

“Probably. I’m not home right now but I can measure tomorrow for you,” said Dean.

“On a hot date?” laughed Sam.

“I was. Y/N’s little sister had a bit of a scare.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Kid just accidentally left the front door open and neighbor called the cops, cops came, Tessa heard it and freaked a bit. I’m crashing on the couch for the night. They’re a little shook up still.”

“Well someone’s gonna get some brownie points for that one.”

“Nah, Y/N knows I’m only here cause I want to be, dude.”

“Not at all what I said but whatever. Oh by the way, I got another call from mom today. I let it go to voicemail.”

“What’d she say?” sighed Dean, running his hand through his hair.

“She just like...wanted to say she’s thinking about us, like both of us or some shit.”

“Oh that’s nice. Better late than never, ain’t that right Sammy?” said Dean, rolling his eyes and laying down on the couch.

“Dean. I’m not saying...can I ask why you hate her so much?” Sam asked after a beat. Dean moved the phone away and shut his eyes. He put his head down and let out a deep breathe, moving the phone back. “De.”

“She’s not a good person. You know that. Leave it at that.”

“Did she smack you around too?” asked Sam quietly.

“Dad at least you knew was an asshole. She pretended she wasn’t though and she’s just a bitch that blames her shitty life on us when we turned out awesome. She can get fucked along with him.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yeah. Block her number Sam. It’s the best thing you can do.”

“You think there’s no chance of anything with her then.”

“Mom’s shouldn’t tell their kids the shit she said to me. Ever. I’m just glad you never got it as much.”

“I punched her in the leg once,” chuckled Sam. “Got my ass spanked but it was worth it.”

“What’d she do?”

“I just remember she made you cry real bad and I got as pissed off as a seven year old could.”

“We got each other’s backs,” said Dean. “All that matters.”

“Tell me about Y/N,” said Sam, Dean shaking his head. “Come on. No more depressing shit. She sounded cute when I talked to her at the game Sunday. I bet she’s cute.”

“She is,” said Dean. “I’m super into her, like super into her, don’t get me wrong but like...I just like her too. Like she’s gorgeous but it’s not like, why I’m attracted? I’m probably not saying this right.”

“I get what you’re saying,” said Sam. “You should totally take her to Mel’s for dinner tomorrow.”

“I really ought to take her to a sit down restaurant before she runs off on me.”

“Mel’s is sit down.”

“Mel’s is greasy burgers and pulled pork at picnic tables.”

“If she doesn’t like Mel’s I can’t like this girl Dean. I’m sorry but those are just facts,” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and smiled, staring up at the ceiling. 

“We could get the sweetheart special. My cholesterol won’t like it but my soul will,” chuckled Dean. “Really? Mel’s?”

“If that girl doesn’t love the ice box pie at the end, she is certifiable,” said Sam.

“I have faith in this one,” said Dean. He shut his eyes and hummed. “You really want to listen to me talk about her?”

“I got about two hundred pages to sign and stamp. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Alright. You asked for it.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[an-sceal]

Did I once again fail to write a drabble for the All Valley 100 prompt? Yes.

Did I once again write some angst-ridden piece of nearly-original-fic AU nonsense using the prompt as inspiration? Also yes.

Beware- character death (offscreen, past, discussed), and spoilers for the third (and last) part of the Joni Lawrence stuff, when I haven't even finished the second part yet.

Happy Anniversary

“Ten years, dude.”  Joni’s right knee protested as she dropped into a wary crouch, her eyes scanning the peaceful surroundings like there was anyone to hear her getting soppy.  She cracked a bottle open with her keyring and offered the first one to Dutch before settling next to him to have her own.  

They didn’t say much to each other, these days.  It had been easier to talk when she was drinking more, and easier to hear him.  Death had mellowed Dutch a lot- at least the version of him that still lived in her head, young and wild and happier than he’d ever gotten to be.  

“Robby’s a teenager.  He hit a growth spurt a couple months ago, and all of a sudden he’s taller than Shan.  He asked me about you, last time she let him visit.  Asked how I could’ve loved his mom if I loved you, and I fucked up explaining it to him.  Said something stupid about how you could love a lot of people at the same time.  Or, I don’t know.  Maybe it wasn’t stupid.  Maybe I was just honest with him.  Except you’re probably not supposed to tell a thirteen year-old about that stuff.  Supposed to sell him the fairy tale so he can feel fucked up when it doesn’t work that way, right?”  She sighed, her shoulders rolling to ease some of the tight, anxious weight she always felt when she thought of all the crap she didn’t know enough about to teach Robby.  

“You would’ve been better at this than me.  Living.”

“Hey, is there room for us at this party?”

Somewhere between getting paranoid someone would overhear her and digging into her failures at not-really-a-parenting, she’d lost track of her vigil on the parking lot.  Bobby, Jimmy, and Tommy were only a few feet away, and she hadn’t even noticed them coming.  The warm flush of embarrassment curled up her neck as she nodded at them.  

Tommy’d brought a six-pack of his own, but they finished hers first.  It was Dutch’s favourite brand, and if she closed her eyes when she drank she could almost hear him laughing along with the rest of them.  They stayed until Jimmy started getting fidgety about getting home to his kids, and Joni even hugged them when they left.  She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to Dutch.  He’d just been gone, like someone turning out the lights when they walked out of a room.  Everything still in place for a life he should’ve been living, but he was never going to show up on her doorstep again.

Sometimes when people knocked she’d wait to answer, just to keep the door closed on the disappointment of it not being him.  

She and the guys had paid for his funeral, for the headstone, for some kind of priest who talked a bunch of shit about God and mercy that had left her trying to pretend her laughter was sobbing.  But the granite marker said DUTCH in big block letters, with the given name he hadn’t used since he was thirteen below it.  It said Dutch, though.  She’d made sure it said that, even though she’d been stoned as fuck on Vicodin when they set it all up.  She brushed some dust out of the letters, and it felt sturdy under her hand.  

Her fingers slid away from the sun-warm granite, itching to tangle in his hair again, or smack his arm, or touch his face like she hadn’t done often enough.  Ten years, and she was still trying to figure out if she forgave him for leaving her.  

“Happy anniversary, I guess.  Fuck you for dying.”  She didn’t tell him she loved him, because he’d know.  She was still alive, and that had to count.

[theworldofotps]

St. Patrick’s Day (Drabble)

Pairing: Finn Balor x Reader Word Count: 770 Description: Seeing Finn upset about not being able to be with his family causes you to throw a little celebration.

A little St. Patrick's Day Finn drabble, it's fluffy and a bit corny but I hope you all like it. I tried to change up and do it in his like accent if that makes sense? And idk if I like how it turned out but it's still kinda cute.

Thank you Rachael for helping encourage me to keep writing this when I thought it was crap. ______ Tag list: @hungmanhorsecarriage @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @the-beastslayers-queen @thewrestlingwarehouse @new-zealand-chic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @xbreezymeadowsx @rebellious-desires @youcantreignonmyparade @melblacc @undiscovereddisneyroyalty  If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. ______

Humming as you walk downstairs to the lounge after dressing for the day you smile spotting your boyfriend sat on the couch on his phone.

“Good morning handsome, what got you out of bed so early this morning?”

“Mornin love, couldn’t really sleep more so I decided ta come down so I wouldn’t wake ye or nuthin.”

Walking over and sitting down beside him frowning as he sighs looking glumly at the screen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Missin my folks is all, with the pandemic M’missin out on celebrating St. Patrick’s Day with them and just in general. I got a few pictures of my nieces and nephews all dressed up for a party.”

“Awe I’m sorry Finn I really wish there was something I could do to make you feel better baby.”

Hugging him you press a kiss to the top of his head as he rests his head on your chest, a hand on your hip rubbing the strip of exposed skin. 

“It’s not yer fault mo grá but thank you for being concerned."

Finn kisses your temple setting his phone beside him on the cushion as you continue to rub his back. 

"Why don't you go and do a facetime call with your family for a while? Maybe it'll help make you feel better and while you do that I have some grocery shopping I need to get done."

"Yer sure love?"

"Yes otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it, go on now I'll see you in a few hours." 

Kissing him softly you shoo him upstairs while you finish getting ready and grab your keys going out to the car. You had a plan formulating in your mind and you hope that you would be able to pull it off without him getting suspicious.

The next 2 hours you spend getting a few groceries for his favorite meals and to bake some sweets. Then you go about gathering things to celebrate St. Patrick's Day with Finn. Thankfully American stores really went all out with decorations. Sure they were pretty corny but you hoped it would bring a smile to his face. Then tossing anything you could really think of that represented his home country you pay for everything and head home. You'd have to hide the bags until tomorrow and hopefully he would really like it.

The next morning you wake up checking your phone. March 17th. Finn had left for the gym already so you could work in peace. Doing your morning routine then going downstairs you grab the bags and begin decorating. You managed to get everything up rather quickly then go into the kitchen to start his favorite breakfast. When you finally have everything set up the car pulls into the driveway. You made it without a moment to spare. 

Grabbing a necklace the said Irish Prince, seriously these always made you laugh. Standing by the door smiling when he opens it. 

"Happy St. Patrick's Day love of my life."

Finn looks at you with surprise on his face watching as the necklace went over his head. Chuckling as he read it and pressed a kiss to you lips lightly. 

"Thank you darlin, what's all dis fer?"

"Because you've been sad lately not being able to go home to see your family. I know how much you miss them, and wish you could be there to celebrate today with them. So I thought maybe you and I could have a little celebration here and facetime them. I texted everyone yesterday and they're all going to be at your parents house to facetime."

You smile as he wraps his arms around you tightly. 

"I love you baby so much thank you." 

Finn says eyes closed for a moment as he takes this all in, he couldn't believe that you actually did all this for him. 

"And I love you my Irish Prince now go shower and get changed into some comfy clothes. Breakfast is ready, then we got some movies to watch and treats to bake." 

Letting him go you smile watching him quickly make his way upstairs to get changed. It may not seem like a huge gesture to a lot of people throwing up some decorations and making food. But to Finn the whole day was a reminder of how much you love and care for him. It was one of the best St. Patrick's Days he had celebrated in a long time. He was hoping that next year the two of you could go to his home and celebrate there. He was lucky to have you, he had the luck of the Irish. 

[keanureevesisbae]

Protection - Chapter 1

Summary: Mia Makaruku meets her new neighbor, but he isn’t at all what she expected him to be.

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter 

My muscles scream bloody murder, as I trudge through the hallways. Did coach Riley have to be so gruesome today? Goodness me, I don’t even know if I’m gonna make it back to my car. However, when I see the coach standing further down the hall, I quickly straighten my back and ignore the slight dulling pain I feel in my ankle and the rest of my leg muscles. ‘Mia,’ coach Riley says in a stern tone as I come closer to her.

Oh no, I think to myself. I did something terribly wrong. If she uses that tone after the first training of the week, it can only mean I’m in severe trouble. ‘Yes coach?’ I hesitantly ask.

Coach Riley’s looks indicate she is strict. Her blonde hairs are pulled back in a tight knot,  a pair of glasses with a thick black frame rests on her nose and the eyeliner that hardens her eyes. While the indication is absolutely one hundred percent correct, you eventually find out she is a sweetheart deep underneath that hard exterior.

When I first arrived in Chicago five years ago, I had no idea what Thanksgiving entailed and I was ready to spend it alone in my apartment. She invited—correction: forced—me to spend time with her family, because she did not want me to sit alone in my apartment on Thanksgiving.

With my last foster family being everything but a great success, it felt good to be welcomed with open arms into a family. I’ve had my fair share of families and while they were all sweet, the last one was a total nightmare. Being slightly traumatized by the experience, it was good to be hugged by a grandma I had never seen before.

Hugs from grandma’s do wonders.

‘You did good today,’ coach says.

Great, now I know for sure I have severely fucked up. If coach Riley starts with a compliment, she is going to break some pretty bad news within a few seconds. I have trained with her for a little over five years. I know her and her odd and slightly crude way of communicating.

‘Okay?’ I say, waiting for the bomb to drop.

‘However, I want you to take it easy, so next training you’re going to train with Tristan on the side of the field.’

‘Come on, coach,’ I whine. ‘Why?’

‘Upcoming Saturday it’s the second to last game of the year. I need you top fit then.’

‘But I am top fit. Honestly!’

Coach Riley isn’t impressed, but to be honest: when is she ever? If this woman has made a decision, she’ll simply power through, no discussion possible. ‘You take it easy during tomorrows training and you listen carefully to Tristan. I noticed a limp on the field just now.’

‘There wasn’t a limp,’ I say. ‘I swear, it’s nothing to worry ab— Okay, I’ll take it easy tomorrow,’ I quickly say when I see her cocked eyebrow that does not bode well.

She finally smiles. ‘Good. Now scocch, I don’t want to look at your face any longer.’

Just when you think she is finally a little bit approachable and kind, she thankfully does this, because her smile was nearly creeping me out. I can’t stop my chuckle. ‘See you tomorrow, coach,’ I say, holding up my hand as I continue to walk through the hallways.

The closer I get to the exit, the colder it becomes. When I’m training, I somehow forget about the ice cold temperatures. However, when I’m not training, which is the majority of the day, I remember we are nearing the winterbreak and that handling these types of temperatures, is not one of my strengths.

I tense up when I step outside and if my ankle wasn’t slightly bothering me, I’d run to my car. When I reached the vehicle, I quickly step in and start to heat it up. My car, unfortunately, isn’t the most advanced and it takes quite some time before it’s even remotely warm. I shiver in the drivers seat. My phone peeps in my pocket and I pull it out, to check the notification that popped up on my screen.

Reminder to yourself: YOU NEED TO DO SOME GROCERIES. GET YOUR FAT ASS CAT SOMETHING TO EAT.

No, no, no, I forgot. I totally forgot. I curse morning-me for sleeping in today. If I had just done groceries this morning before practice, I could’ve go home now. Why was I lazy and chose an extra hour of sleep over doing something actually productive?

I drive off the parking lot, wave to some of my teammates and go to the nearest grocery store. If I have a clear idea of what I want before I go into the store, I can actually manage to do this pretty swiftly and then go home, so I can curl up on the couch to watch yet another cheesy Christmas movie. I desperately need to buy some food for my cat, some eggs and chocolate and… Do I need more?

This is why one makes shopping lists.

‘You idiot,’ I mumble to myself, as I park the car in front of the store. I get out and walk to the entrance. While I’m strolling through the aisles, to at least get the eggs, cat food and chocolate I do know I need, I hear some girls giggling behind me.

I look over my shoulder to my right and see two young girls standing at the produce section. When they look away, I see a glimpse of their red cheeks and notice they are both wearing Chicago Red Star jerseys. I can’t—and won’t—stop my smile. ‘Hi,’ I say to them, causing them to carefully wave at me.

They shyly wave back. ‘Are you Mia Makaruku?’ one girl asks when she finally found the courage to do so.

I nod. ‘The one and only.’

They look at each other and exchange some excited looks. ‘Can we get a picture?’

This has been my favorite part of the job so far. I mean, sure, I love soccer with all my life, however seeing girls this age cheering me on during the competitions and hearing about how they watch clips of me, so they can learn from my techniques, makes me realize I love that even more. They call me their role model and with the status I have, I can actually be one for them. It’s a job I should take seriously and I do.

When kids tell me they are going to try and watch the European Championship for Women’s Soccer, because I am on the Dutch National Team, I try even harder to be the best player of the competition and be a model for them to look up to. Be someone for them I wished I had when I was younger.

I nod again at the girls. ‘Of course. I love your shirts. Tell me: whose name do you have on the back?’

They start to laugh and turn around, showing the backs of their shirts. ‘Yours of course!’

◎ ◎ ◎

Life hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows for me. I just barely think about it nowadays, since it only leaves me with more questions than answers and I’d rather not wander in the dark like that. It’s weird to think about the things I do remember and don’t.

I do remember the second we skidded off the road. I don’t remember I had a mother or father or three brothers with me in the car. I do remember eventually taking the officer’s hand and despite repeating my name like mantra, kept asking him if he had heard my name correctly. I don’t remember any bodies on the scene, because there weren’t any and I also don’t know how their bodies disappeared.

It’s hard sometimes, knowing there is a memory inside my head that I simply can’t reach, but also not knowing what I’m missing in life. Did my parents love me? Did I have a good bond with my brothers? Was there a specific reason I wasn’t in the system? Why weren’t there other people with the same last name in the Netherlands who recognized me?

I moved from foster family to foster family, while trying to regain my memories by visiting multiple specialists. I went to a lot of places. To England, Ireland, France and Luxembourg, but no one could help me out. At the age of twelve, they simply stopped trying, because it was no use anyways and there was one family back in the Netherlands who insisted on me staying in one place for a change.

Thankfully they did, however I only stayed with them for four years, before I moved to my final family, that was a hell to put it mildly.

Finally, for the first time in yearsI wasn’t going from one specialist to another and there was one place where I was always—despite the family—welcome: my soccer team. In all those years of me visiting specialists, there was always one thing I looked for: a ball to kick around. Soccer was my love, my passion and the only thing I started to care about.

And now I have managed to not only make a name for myself in the USA, but also worldwide. When I was nineteen, I debuted in the Dutch National Team during the European Championship and my performance there was what caught the attention of the Chicago Red Stars. I could leave the small SC Heerenveen in the Netherlands behind and go to the USA. I had seen the American National Team. They were exceptionally good and now I got to play alongside some of them.

My first World Championship was when I was twenty one and the Dutch team was in the finals against the USA. Despite my two goals, the USA was too good and beat us with 4-2. Sure, I was disappointed, but still I was very pleased with the fact that the Netherlands became second and it was such a highlight in my seemingly short professional soccer career thus far.

I managed to overcome all these things and still be the person I am today. Since I can’t remember my past, I made it my mission in life to make the most of my future.

Don’t ask me how, but I managed to come back from the store with three full bags. Apparently, if you wander through the aisles long enough, you’ll find tons of excuses to buy crap you didn’t even need in the first place.

I’m finally back at my apartment building and the automatic doors slide open as I reach them. I walk towards the reception and I say with a smile: ‘Hello Harold, how are you today?'

Harold, the clerk behind the reception who is nearing his pension, greets me with his signature smile and I see the two familiar dimples form in his cheeks. ‘Hello, miss Mia, I’m doing splendid this Monday. How was your training today?’

I simply shrug. ‘It was okay, but I have to take it easy now.’ I can’t help but to roll my eyes. ‘According to my coach, I was “slightly limping” and she needs me top fit this Saturday.’

He scrunches up his nose. ‘But my dear, I think you are incapable of taking things easy. Isn’t your coach aware of that?’

I can’t help but laugh. I always like to talk to Harold, it’s so easy to strike up a conversation with him. ‘I think she just wants to bully me. Is there by the way any mail for me?’

‘There certainly is. Three envelopes for you. Almost makes you seem like a very important lady.’ He sends me a playful wink. ‘Oh, before I forget: I told you about the apartment next to you being sold, right?’

I nod. ‘Does this mean Mystery Person is finally moving in?’ I ask.

Harold nods. ‘He moved in today.’

‘Ah, it’s a man. Is he hot?’

He shrugs. ‘He is pretty stuffy and a bit authoritarian looking. I was hoping for someone as radiant as you. I think we need more people like you around here, not a copy of miss Thornhill.’

I throw my long brown hair over my shoulder. ‘Well, what can I say?’ I chuckle. ‘Not everyone is a ray of sunshine like yours truly. Is there mail for him as well? I can bring it to him.’

‘An envelope did arrive, indeed. I don’t think he will go down here to pick it up. We barely made eye contact today. I hardly even know if he is aware there is a reception, let alone that I’m the clerk.’ He hands me the other yellow envelope and says: ‘Are you sure you want to do this, miss?’

‘Absolutely positive. It might be nice to get to know my next door neighbor. Let’s hope he is not a gigolo. I really can’t use sleepless nights anymore. I have two important games coming up, I need my rest.’

‘Mister Toriello was quite the man,’ Harold laughs. ‘Thank you, my dear, for doing this.’

‘No problem, Harold. See you later!’ I walk to the elevator and hold my card in front of the scanner. The doors slide open and when I get in, I press button number nine. I look at the name on the envelope. It’s actually addressed with a sticker, no handwriting, which I find so impersonal.

A. Walker

A. Walker is probably the most generic name I’ve ever heard. This man could be anybody. Would he be bald, have a beer belly and burps all the time or would he be young, attractive and actually a chance for me to leave my forever alone status behind?

While that would be nice, Harold did say that the man was quite stuffy and authoritarian looking.

As someone with barely any date experience (none at all, actually), I’d say stuffy and authoritarian looking isn’t really my type, but never say never right?

The doors open and I step out on my own floor. I walk through the broad hallways and stop in front of apartment number 943. From behind the door, I can hear someone dragging furniture around the apartment and an occasional male grunt. I knock on the door and just hope that he can hear me. I don’t want to start banging on the door like an idiot.

Thankfully, he did hear me, because footsteps approach the door and when it swings open, my eyes widen.

The man standing in the doorway, does not match the generic sounding A. Walker name at all. He is tall, with broad shoulders and the shortsleeved shirt he is wearing, totally accentuates his muscled biceps. I mean, the body is a total A+ (I don’t think I have ever seen someone this buff, while still being proportionate), his face on the other hand… I mean, he does have a beautifully sculpted face and it looks rather perfect, don’t get me wrong, but he looks so angry with that deep frown between his brows and the mustache isn’t really my thing either. Kinda ruins his entire face, if I’m being honest. ‘Who are you?’ he asks, his voice monotone and already bored.

That is not a good start.

‘I’m Mia,’ I introduce myself with a smile, because smiles make people comfortable and this man does not look comfortable. ‘I live next door, in apartment 944. I brought you your mail.’ I extend my arm, so I can hand him the yellow envelope. ‘Thought it would be nice, since we’re neighbors after all.’

He rips the envelope out of my hand and is actually inspecting the seal on it. I am deeply offended. Why on earth would he think that low of me? As if I would snoop through other people’s mail.

After his thorough inspection, he looks at me again. His eyes take me in and leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. The shirt has a slight v neck and is that a tiny bit of chest hair I detect?

I’m almost expecting something condescending leaving his lips (he seems like the type), but A. Walker doesn’t say a word. He simply stares at me and now I kinda regret bringing his mail with me.

He looks and acts like an utter asshole.

‘What’s your name?’ I carefully ask him. Despite him looking like an absolute dick, I do think this is a man you might want to have on your good side. After all, he is my neighbor, I don’t want him to hate me, especially since from the looks of it this man can break me in half with just his pinky, which is intimidating on its own.

‘August Walker,’ he says, tilting his head, as he seems to scan my entire face. ‘Aren’t you that soccer player?’

Before I can even stop it, a smile breaks out on my face. I always like it when people acknowledge the fact that I’m a soccer player. I worked really hard to get where I am now and when people recognize me as that soccer player, it makes me happy. ‘I am,’ I say with an even brighter smile.

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all…

‘I hate women’s soccer.’

I’m dumbfounded. Why on earth does he have to be so rude? What on earth did I do to him to deserve this? What a fucking dickhead. I can’t believe I was actually trying to make a good impression on him. Maybe I don’t want him to be on my good side. Maybe I sort of miss mister Toriello now, with his late night adventures with very noisy female customers. At least he was nice enough to bring me cookies every now and then, to apologize for the noise.

I highly doubt August Walker knows how to bake cookies, let alone buy some of them to apologize for the inconvenience, whatever that may be.

‘Why?’ I ask, as my expression falters.

‘It’s stupid,’ he simply states. To make it even worse, he adds a shrug, as if it’s a well known fact and not just some stupid opinion. ‘Not as advanced as male soccer.’

I frown, as I try to cover up the fact I’m deeply hurt. ‘Well, that’s okay. To each their own,’ I say to him. ‘If we are being frank here: I think your mustache is pretty stupid.’

He simply raises his eyebrows, while his eyes still look bored and annoyed. ‘You do?’ he asks me. ‘Why is that?’

‘I don’t know. It makes you look like a pedophile, really. Have a good day, mister Walker.’ I walk towards my own door and barge inside.

Who gave mister August Walker the right to be this rude to me, someone who he barely knows? What a piece of shit.

My big orange cat Bobo walks up to me and he starts to meow, pulling me out of my racing thoughts.

The hairy companion makes me instantly forget about my new neighbor. ‘Hi, Bobo,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I missed you too, little fella.’ I place the bags on the floor, before I lift him up, to press tons of kisses on his head. He purrs in my ear. ‘I bought you some food, so that means you can finally stop putting your head in my bowl and be a decent cat from now on.’

‘Meow.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

[vagueinnuendo]

Crap. Somebody already transcribed and posted Johnny's wall-o-text he wanted to send to Ali. Well, I tried to edit it a bit to make it easier to read.

Tl;Dr-ish: Johnny liked the Iron Eagle movies, Wayne's World and Jurassic Park.and Predator. Is learning  a bit of Spanish from from Miguel and family. Got in trouble while attending Community College because he set something on fire. Dutch did time for hot-wiring a golf cart from the country club. Sid won't let the club ban Johnny. Johnny hates foreign beer and disrespects Belgium. He also hates grunge and thinks depressing music is bad for the kids. Knows he's a crap parent. Okay with Miguel but worries it's too late with Robby. Bet on the OJ Simpson trial (...)

"And then in 1992, Iron Eagle 3 came out. You know what? I don't care what the critics thought, it was pretty good. Not as good as Iron Eagle 1 and Iron Eagle 2, but hey, what movie is? 

I think Wayne's World was that year too. That one was was okay. Those nerds had great taste in music and the chick was hot. What was she doing with him? How come the hot chicks go for the losers in these movies?

Anyway, other than that, 1992 was a pretty quiet year. Got fired again. But what the hell do they know? I didn't like construction anyway. They all speak Spanish and I'm pretty sure they were making fun of me sometimes.

Do you know what a "gringo" is? I started learning a bit of Spanish from Miguel and his family. I know "hola", "plantain", "taco" and, "dinero". Pretty good, huh?

Where was I? Oh, right. 1993, there was a dinosaur movie. Pretty good for the 90s. I mean, not anywhere near what we had back in the day. Remember Predator? That movie was badass!

This dinosaur thing was pretty cool but too much sciencey stuff for me. I guess you probably like that though, right? I mean, you're a doctor now.

I could never be a doctor. Not after that incident at Community College. (I talked about that a couple paragraphs ago. Does Facebook let you go back and re-read?) Still think they overreacted. All the great scientists set things on fire, right? Like Einstein or whoever.

Anyway, 1993. Dutch got arrested. That one was pretty stupid. I was drunk for most of it, but I'm pretty sure he hot-wired a golf cart from the Country Club.

I looked up from the bar and Dutch is driving this thing at high speed (Or as high as something like that can go) and crashes it into the pool! They had to bring a crane in to get it out. He did some time, but it was worth it!

Anyway, I don't think I've been back to the country club since then. Sid won't let them ban me but those guys are all uptight, and they only serve foreign beer. It's offensive. We won two world wars drinking American beer. What the hell has Belgium ever done except to get invaded? Who wants to drink that shit?

I think I got off topic again. Let's get back to the mid-90s. 1994 was a slow year. The 90s sucked, man. You turned on the radio and it was just crap. Who writes the song about being a loser? And all those grungy types with the flannel.

Let me tell you, music is supposed to be about being badass in awesome. Not about wanting to kill yourself. That should can't be good for the kids to hear, right? Look at me, worrying about what the kids are hearing. I guess being a parent changes you.

Not that I'm all that great of a parent. Well, Miguel seems to like me okay. Robby doesn't. I messed that one up pretty good. Can't even get the kid to talk to me anymore. He's stuck in there for a few more months and he's got nobody. He won't take my calls. I hope his mom's talking to him at least.

I think it might be too late for me and him. I messed up too many times. Not that I'm a total screw-up, I've done some good stuff too!

Which brings me to 1995 and how I made two grand betting on the OJ trial."

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 63)

Goodbyes

Soooo this one has some gory details I guess, and some sad moments. But I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you’re still enjoying this because I could use the motivation haha 😅

Tagging @emily-strange and @actuallyhansolo ❤

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

-

I stood outside the tent flaps. They were drawn closed and shivered in the wind in a ghostly fashion that made the hair on my arms stand up when the wind didn't even have much of a chill. The sounds I heard weren't pleasant. Shaky, gurgled breaths, rolling grunts and heaves, raspy inhales and sharp exhales. A near constant string of sickening moans. He was alone in there, with Dutch off out somewhere, with Miss Grimshaw giving him all she could before leaving the tent, and nobody else liking him enough to want to sit by his bedside… Micah was alone. Alone, and dying. 

I sighed and pulled back the canvas and peered inside. There he was, laying down on Dutch's bed, his shirt was off and his gut was bound up with bandages and rags, tight, but blood had still managed to seep through. The tent smelled like sweat and something rotten, like death, it was heady and warm and it caught in my throat and made me want to gag, but I entered anyway. I approached him, looked down at his scrunched up, agonised face, shiny with perspiration and a mix of deathly washed out skin and blotchy, feverish redness in his cheeks, running down to his neck. His hair looked wet and it clung to his forehead and laid limp and messy, framing his head against the pillow. 

I covered my mouth with my hand and stared down at the sight before me. This man… whom I'd worked with, spoken with, shared a drink with, lived with. Whom once upon a time had seemed like a friend, like our bond would grow closer in the name of the gang and the family we shared. But here he was, laying motionless and in pain, suffering in a prolonged state of hell. Because he'd tried to kill me. 

I felt guilty. No. I felt as though I should feel guilty, but I didn't. And that in itself generated a sickly sensation in the pit of my stomach that was something like guilt, but far more muddied. 

"Micah," I whispered, my head shaking of its own accord. His eyes flashed open and he stared up at me with a bloodshot, dilated gaze that unnerved me. His teeth were bared, and something that sounded like his laugh escaped him but was quickly interrupted by a choking cough and a groan. "You really did it this time," I sighed. 

"F– fu–" the sounds he made were weak, shaky, drawn out and almost incomprehensible. He was struggling bad. 

"I'm surprised you thought you could get away with that. You know that even if you had shot me, Arthur would've killed you immediately afterwards. It wasn't the smartest move. But you're paying for it. For your lies and betrayal and the suffering you have caused," I said to him, standing over him. He stared at me, unblinking, shivering. "You smell like death," I added. 

"You'll– you'll never be free. Y-you know that… right?" He spoke breathlessly. I stared blankly at him. 

"You'll be free soon. From all this," was my nonchalant response. "You're gonna die." 

"I'm a fighter," he hissed, his shaking hand rising to his gut, gingerly resting there against the soiled bandages. 

"You don't look good at all," I frowned sadly at him. "Arthur stabbed you deep. Charles said it might've punctured your bowels."

A grunt of some sort came from him, it wasn't clear whether he was trying to speak. 

"That's a death sentence, really. How could it not be? Your heart is pumping dirty blood to every part of your body," I bent down, leaning close to him. "Even dirtier than it was when you weren't dyin'."

Micah's face screwed up tighter, something like dread seeping into his aura. 

"I'm just having fun with you, sweet thing," I whispered to him, smirking as I regurgitated his own words back to him.

"'Least my prediction came true," he grunted. 

"Which one?" 

"We'd either f-fuck each other or–"

"Oh yeah," I cut him off. "Only it ain't me that's killed you." 

A smile passed over my lips as I thought of Arthur. 

"And you're alone. Ain't nobody here to help you through your suffering," I continued. 

"You're here," he pointed out, seemingly taking a kind of satisfaction from it. 

"Only so I remember this," I shrugged. "I'd rather this be my last memory of you, instead of that God awful kiss."

My gut churned uncomfortably. I felt so strange. At the mention of his kiss, I almost pitied him, and that brought some real guilt. His eyes kept trying to roll back, his breathing was becoming far more strained and the gap between each one increased and increased. He didn't have long, that much was clear. 

He was evil. He'd betrayed the gang, tried to frame me and then tried to kill me, all the while toying with me from day one. Kissing me just so he could violate me. What a vile man.

Even so, I didn't feel good about the way he was dying. I rested my hand on the Schofield revolver at my hip, wondering whether I should use it. I eyed Micah, his gaze had gone soft, out of focus, ascending to the top of the tent. I never thought I would see him so weak and vulnerable. I dropped my hand away and sighed.

"Things could've been so different, you know," I told him, brow curving, bottom lip protruding. "You did all this. If you'd just left me be earlier in Van Horn, if you'd kept your mouth shut to those Pinkertons– no, if you'd never worked for the Pinkertons at all. Maybe we'd all have a fighting chance. But you thought you were special, huh?"

I shook my head and sighed. 

"Don't think for one second that any of this ain't your fault," I finished. "But I suppose I should thank you, really… if it weren't for all this, Arthur and I wouldn't be leaving tonight. Jack wouldn't be getting away from here with his family just yet. Who knows when that would've happened without your help."

He wasn't making much noise, and I stepped forwards, frowning. I reached my hand out, hovering the back of it in front of his mouth and nose. I felt his hot breath against my skin and immediately withdrew. It was weak, but it was there. I swallowed hard. 

"Thank you, Micah," I finally said. Then I turned around, heading out of the tent. I paused before walking away, considering my next actions carefully, unsure if it was the right thing to do but knowing that I would think about it for years to come if I didn't. I took the canvas in hand and drew it back, securing it in place to expose the outside world to him. I didn't know for certain why I was compelled to do that; perhaps it stemmed back to when my brother and I opened a window when each of our parents passed to let their souls leave. Perhaps it was because I figured Micah deserved at least one last look at the rising sun. Either way, I walked away once the tent was open, knowing that it was the last I'd see of him alive. 

Arthur caught my eyes from across camp. He looked as though he'd been searching for something, and by the way he immediately beelined for me, I realised it had probably been me. I met him halfway, and he eyed up the open tent behind me with a small frown upon his face. 

"What're you doing in there with him? He don't deserve one second of your time," he scolded, though his hands scrubbed my upper arms affectionately. 

"Just needed to see how he was doing. He's goin', Arthur. Ain't nothing for it," I shook my head. His eyes were intense in how they gazed into mine, and he nodded slowly.

"I can't believe he kissed you," he whispered. 

"No… I can't say I expected it," I frowned, looking down, "I'm so sorry."

"Ain't you who's gotta be sorry."

"No, I do, maybe I… maybe I pushed him. I should'a known better than even talking to him when he was in that mood."

"What mood?" Arthur frowned.

"Just, saying all this crap, about how there's something between him and I, a fire, when we bicker," I murmured, not really wanting Arthur to hear it. "When he kissed me, I froze, couldn't do nothing. I'm sorry." 

Arthur was quiet for too long and it made me anxious. When I looked up at him, his eyes were distant and hurt and angry, and he was gazing towards Micah.

"Arthur?" I whispered. His jaw grew tenser and I could practically see the plan forming in his head, then a second passed and he began walking, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. "He's dying anyway, leave it."

"I can make it quicker–"

"Arthur, just stop. I don't want that. He got what he deserved already, I just wanna leave him behind. What he did don't matter, didn't mean a damn thing," I pleaded, holding his arm tight despite the fact he carried on walking. "Please kiss me. Make me forget about it," I cried out, and it made him stop. 

He was still for a moment, his back to me. Then he whirled around and cupped my face, pushing his mouth to mine and stealing my breath, exploring me with tongue and kissing me with such a flame it burned and melted me beneath his fingertips. Didn't matter at all that we were in the middle of camp. When he broke the kiss his mouth stayed close to mine, puffing hot breaths. 

Before he could say or do anything, I asked; "when're we leaving?" 

"Soon. Abigail got the money. Just our share, like we discussed. I've packed our things and spoke to a few others– Lenny's coming too. And… and Susan is," he said, and my eyes flashed wide and I jerked back a bit in surprise. He was nodding in agreement before I even said anything, "I know, I'm as surprised as you are. She came and spoke to me after she realised what we was planning and invited herself along without a second thought. I weren't even planning on asking, just coz she's been with Dutch so long–"

"I thought she was on his side! Patching Micah up like that," I exclaimed and Arthur nodded. 

"Yeah, so did I. But she was just doing what she felt she had to. Was a wild few minutes when all that happened, she couldn't just leave him. But she… she's had time to think now," he told me, looking over his shoulder at her as she packed up her things. He whispered the next part. "She's not happy with Dutch's behaviour. She sees as clear as I do how he's changed."

"God… it feels good knowing we ain't alone," I sighed. 

Arthur nodded. "Lenny don't like how he's been handling things, neither. Wanting to leave John to rot, taking advantage of Eagle Flies."

"Tilly's leaving. So are Mary-Beth and Kieran. I asked 'em if they wanted to come with us, but it seems they're trying to get away from it all for good," I told him. Arthur exhaled and his shoulders dropped. It was relief. 

"Good. That's good. What about Karen?" 

"I don't know about Karen. She says she's fine, but…" I trailed off. "She didn't say she'd come with us."

"I'll try talking to her," he said, and I nodded. 

"But Charles said he'd come, and he asked Sadie… we got quite the family forming," I said hopefully.

"It'll just be till we get on our feet, make sure everyone's got a plan. A real one. A proper way out; not what Dutch's been promising all this time."

"And then what?" I asked, and Arthur blew a jet of air through his lips as his eyes peeled to the sky. 

"I don't rightly know. Maybe you and I'll head west like we were going to before… before everything," he breathed. I nodded, reaching up and stroking his cheek. 

"I love you," I whispered to him, and he cupped his hand over mine and leaned into it, closing his eyes momentarily. 

"Then it's all worth it," he whispered, then took my hand from his face and squeezed it, "come on, princess, let's finish packing up. We're taking a couple wagons, don't care what anyone says. I want us gone before Dutch comes back."

-

The gang disbanded a little like this; while we were preparing to leave, others dropped off too. Trelawny was the first to get gone, he spoke to Arthur and I and we wished each other the best of luck and then he waltzed out of camp like he'd done many times before. Pearson was next, he quietly slipped away with only a few words of goodbye. Then Swanson and Uncle left. Mary-Beth and Kieran were all prepared to go but hung back, seemed nervous and hesitant. Some didn't seem prepared to leave at all. Most notably Javier and Bill, of course, but also Strauss. He sat with his little ledger and didn't move, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Not that I had any disappointment over the fact he wasn't coming with us, after the work he gave to Arthur.

We were all ready. Arthur, Charles, Sadie, John, Abigail, Jack, Lenny, Susan and I. Our things were distributed across two wagons and we could leave at any moment. It was so strange. Bill had come over to argue over us taking the wagons but Arthur had reasoned with him. It wasn't a violent or aggressive reasoning, it was a respectful plea. Let us go our way so that you can go yours. As thick-skulled as Bill could be, even he accepted it.

Tilly approached Arthur and I where we stood by the wagon, making final preparations for our departure. Karen was behind her, looking dazed and tired and only slightly more sober than the last time I'd seen her. 

"I, uh, I'm leaving now… and I'm taking Karen with me, ain't that right?" Tilly said firmly, glancing over her shoulder at Karen. 

"It's a hostage situation," Karen murmured, her arms crossed vulnerably over her chest. Tilly breathed a laugh and shook her head. 

"I'm gonna make sure she pulls herself together. We both need to get away from this, find something normal. I ain't leaving her to find some ditch to lay down and die in," she explained bluntly and Karen scoffed.

"I love how you see my potential, Miss Jackson," Karen rolled her name off her tongue with attitude, but a lot of love. It was honestly a massive relief to know that they would be leaving together. They'd have each other, and Tilly was a smart woman and she'd make sure Karen looked after herself. They just needed a better environment to thrive in. 

"You're my friend, Karen, I'm just being honest," Tilly sighed. I smiled at them both. 

"You two look after each other, alright? You're good people. Smart. Kind. You'll get on out there alright, I know it," Arthur said, reaching a hand out and knocking Tilly's chin with the edge of his knuckle like she was his little sister. My smile only widened. 

"Arthur–" Tilly began, but her voice wavered and her eyes looked wet, and she took a moment. A lump formed in my throat immediately. "Thank you for being in my life," she managed. Arthur took a shaky breath and wordlessly pulled her into his chest for a gentle hug. I pressed my lips together and averted my eyes, trying desperately not to cry. 

"You bastards, you're making me wanna cry," Karen bemoaned, and nestled herself against the two to join the hug. She was accepted easily, and Arthur's arm came to wrap around me as well, dragging me in whether I liked it or not. 

"You girls, all'a you; you're all the best people I know. I just want you all to be safe and happy, and I know this situation is messed up and it ain't ended too well, but…" Arthur began, taking a breath before finishing, "it's for the best. I know it."

We all parted after a moment, and Mary-Beth and Kieran joined us. 

"You're all saying your goodbyes?" Mary-Beth tentatively asked with a small smile. "We're heading out too, wanna go before…"

"Before Dutch comes back?" Karen asked. She nodded.

"Seems we all have the same idea," I breathed. 

"I love each and every one of you, remember that," Mary-Beth told us, "I will always think of you, and I hope somehow we can keep in touch."

Arthur glanced at me considerately for a moment. "Send all your letters to Miss Jemima Jones in… in Manzanita Post. We'll check there if ever we pass through. We'll find each other some way or another, we ain't ever lost each other before."

“That’s right… I… I feel a little better leaving knowing that you’re all leaving too. Last few weeks ain’t been easy– well, they’ve been just awful. And after what happened today, I just can't see this thing lasting any longer," Mary-Beth said quietly, "everyone's just so divided."

"Micah was gonna shoot you!" Tilly exclaimed, nodding along with Mary Beth and turning her wide, doll-like eyes to me. "Right there in front of everyone! Even Jack was there," she sighed, shaking her head. 

"Well it turned out to be his last mistake, didn't it? The fool," I said, almost a little too mournfully. I wasn't sad that Micah was dying. I was sad that things had turned out in such a way. So full of poison and betrayal and heartache. It tore the gang apart. 

"Good riddance," Karen scoffed. 

"I can't say the same thing for you folk," Mary-Beth said sadly, then took my hand and then Tilly's in hers. "I really am gonna miss you girls. And boys," she turned her smile to Arthur and he nodded a little bashfully.

"Kieran, you better look after this lady, treat her right," Arthur said sternly to the man who had been standing sheepishly and silently behind his sweetheart. 

"Oh, I– I will, sir, I'll do my utmost," Kieran nodded firmly, squaring his shoulders and standing up straight. Mary-Beth broke into a fit of giggles and playfully smacked the back of her hand against his chest.

"Mr. Morgan, I did not realise you were my father!" She exclaimed. I snorted and grinned up at Arthur who shook his head fondly and smiled, but otherwise said nothing. "Anyway, we best get going." 

"Said all your goodbyes?" I asked.

Mary-Beth nodded, "I have. I tried not to linger too long 'cause otherwise I'll start crying and I'll never leave," she chuckled.

"Yeah, I understand," I smiled and squeezed her hand. She took a breath, glanced at Kieran, then back at us. 

"Well then. Until we meet again, whenever, wherever that may be," she breathed. 

"The very best of luck to you," I said.

"Take care," Arthur nodded. 

"Thanks for everything," Kieran blurted out, "this all changed my life and I– I'm real grateful."

"Grateful? We had you tied to a tree, boy!" Arthur bellowed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Get out of here, enjoy your life. Stay out of trouble. Lord knows you ain't cut out to be an outlaw anyways."

"Yes sir," he nodded and took Mary-Beth's hand, and they each gave us one last smile.

And with that, Mary-Beth and Kieran skedaddled, and disappeared on the little wagon they'd claimed for themselves.

Not long after that, Karen and Tilly left too. They said the rest of their goodbyes and left on horseback quietly and discreetly with only a few tears from Karen, surprisingly. Tilly held it together well and comforted her, but I could see that she was struggling to hold back emotion of her own. The camp looked so barren with just Javier, Bill and Strauss still hanging around, and Micah still in the tent. 

Our little group was all ready to leave and after a lot of last minute hesitation, soon we couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. It was time to go. 

Jack, Abigail, and John boarded one wagon, while Susan, Arthur and I boarded the other. Lenny, Charles and Sadie mounted up on their horses and we stood motionless in the middle of camp, each holding our breaths as we waited for someone to make the first move. 

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Arthur turned to me, his hands tight on the reins. I met his eyes, stared into the beautiful blue ocean that was his irises, and took a shaky breath. 

"I am, if you are," I nodded. 

"If you're with me, I'm ready for anything," he whispered, then snapped the reins. The horses got moving and the wheels turned, and I only looked back once at the sparse remains of the gang that once welcomed me with a blanket and kindness and songs sung around a campfire. At the people whose hearts were once full of warmth and hope now turned to icy stubbornness, a refusal to let go of what once was. 

Truth be told, I couldn't blame a single one of them, for I knew that part of me would never let go of it either, not fully. 

And as Micah Bell took his final breath lying upon the bed inside Dutch's tent, with the man he'd turned so sour against his own family still nowhere to be found; I could only hope that those that I once regarded as family of my own would see the light and find happiness in a world where they were more than just pieces of a weapon.

[rachetmath]

What would it be like if rwbyjnor met the dutch, revy and rock

I don't understand the specifics of this request so I'll do this in the best way I can. This going to be long so be ready.

Rwby x Black lagoon

Black Lagoon crosses to Remnant:

Revy and Dutch along with team RWBY, Ren and Nora are fight a bunch of Beowolves while Jaune and Rock are fighting side by side with mostly Jaune doing most of the work while Rock provides a view tips and assisting mostly with what he can find.

Revy: So, let me get this straight you fight shit heads freaks of nature like these like every single day?

Ruby: Yep.

Dutch: And all of you have a very specific weapon that you customize yourselves to be it a blade and firearm?

Ren: Precisely.

Benny: And you have unnatural and natural resources like dust and with highly advanced technology?

Weiss: Yes.

Dutch: And you can use all that as well as this thing called aura along with a semblance?

Nora: Yeah, semblances are like a superpower.

Revy: How super?

Yang: Universal.

Revy: Well-

Revy looks to see Ruby turn her weapon from a sniper rifle to a scythe.

Revy: Dutch, can we stay here?

Dutch: HELL NO!!! Look, I hate to say this, but I much prefer seeing crazy psychos, and bullets fly than this horror fest. Plus, I may not be father but ya'll parents let you do this every day, they are very stupid and irresponsible.

Yang: Hey we're trained for this. Well except one.

Revy: Yeah that guy with Rock over there. He is doing fine but I can tell he's not all your levels. How did even survive let only get into your school?

Ruby: That we don't know or bother asking as long he works.

Revy: Well I can say that it's stupid but I still I wonder how he got in.

*Jaune and Rock side*

Rock: So, let’s get this straight. Your father never bothered to train you and no combat school was willing to accept you, so your best method was to cheat?

Jaune: Yeah, I know, I'm a complete fool.

Rock: I mean if you were willing to work hard to get there despite the risk, I say, you sir have my respect.

Jaune: But I am an idiot, I mean, I lost the only girl you who believed in me.

Rock: Jaune, let me give you a piece of advice. Get over yourself! If you still have even just one friend in this crazy messed up world then you're okay. Trust me, I know a little on how you feel. I mean look me compared to the others, do I look like I'm a mercenary?

Jaune: Why do hang out with them anyways?

Rock: Like you with your friends, mines, I guess appreciate my abilities. Look let's talk about this another time and try to survive this freak show.

Jaune: Deal.

RWBY and JNRO crosses to Black Lagoons:

Team RWBY and JNPR are fighting a mafia group along with Revy and Dutch. Ruby armed with a handgun, an old scythe and sniper with a bayonet, Weiss with a rapier and little knifes, Blake with a handgun and a katana, Yang with a shotgun and iron brazed knuckles, Jaune with an military armed shield, sword and rifle(Dutch taught him how to use it. Surprised it took him a week.) Nora with a grenade launcher, Ren dual wielding pistols and knives and Oscar with a pipe.

Revy: Holy crap, you brats are good even without your powers or usual weapons.

Ruby: We adapt.

Nora: Seriously, you guys do stuff like this every day?

Dutch: For the right price, yes. But yeah, you kids on a natural.

Yang: By the way, thanks for teaching Jaune how to use a gun.

Dutch: Thank Rock for making him listen, he said he wouldn't last long if he didn't. But in all seriously the guy learns quick, I mean, it took him a week to learn how you use that rifle.

Ren: A week! We need to start teaching him and make sure he brings one more often.

Nora: Might makes things easier from here on.

Jaune: Can all of stop talking and focus! We'll talk when we're done. Oscar, hurry up.

Oscar: Oh, I'm sorry but fighting with a pipe is hard!

Jaune: Why didn't you bring a sword!

Oscar: I will not kill!

After a crazy battle, the group along with Rock and Benny celebrated their victory at the bar. While the girls, as well as Ren and Oscar was living it up with Revy, Benny and Dutch, at the front bar Jaune and Rock were talking after Rock told him a stories about how his employers sold him out, the hell he endured in his stay Roanaper, Yukio, and his old client Garcia.

{Rock's side}

Jaune: Damn.

Rock: Yeah.

Jaune: Well, you did what you had to.

Rock: But I didn't have to. I should've walk away and not attached. I'm supposed to be the good guy, Jaune. But this city, I feel like it's eating me alive. All these mafia bosses, war criminals and shit... it's all just getting to me. You know.

Jaune: Yeah, I understand, but what are going to do about it? you made the choice to stay and you got live with it. I mean, hearing all the crap you've done, I somewhat envy you.

Rock: What do you mean?

Jaune: When Chang said pull out, you went in. Every time something bad happens you try to be the good guy and make things better. True it fails at times and from the look of this city, you'll have no choice but to throw righteousness away to survive.  But in my opinion, you still at least stand as the hero of the story.

Rock: *laugh* How so!? Come on tell me, how can I, a piece of under burying shit can possible still be a hero to you. The worthless knight, who can barely fight and couldn't save his partner!?

Jaune: Exactly. Most people survive based on luck.  You on the other hand survived not just on what you know but what learn in return. The world's a crazy place, and most of time you don't know where you'll end up. However, you still have control of what you do next. Your still able to keep people alive. You still do your job. You still try to be nice and maintain some level of morality even if it may never be enough or get you killed. So, trust me when I say this, you have done all what you could. Hell, I barely can do anything.

Rock: Shut up. When it comes down to it your friends are as crazy and trigger happy as Revy. They need somebody like you who can keep them alive. Just keep trying to do right by them and for yourself. Trust me, you can talk down to yourself all you want. But it doesn't change the fact that your alive, you made mistakes and you change. Promise you won't go down how I did, because believe me once you go too far in the darkness you may never come back from it. Or at least not be the same person you were before.  

Jaune: Yeah. Plus, that Revy woman, I think you can trust her to help you back up or shoot you down when you have gone too far.

Rock: Really? How come?

Jaune: She talks about you all the time when she's drunk. She saves you even when you deserve to die for being stupid. And finally, she hasn't killed you yet despite the many times you've pissed her off.

Rock: Speaking of women, which one of those lovely ladies is your girlfriend?

Jaune: Funny I was about ask you the same between Revy and the blonde, named, Eda.

Rock: *laughing* To the C.M.F.?

Jaune:  To the C.M.F *Shared a toast with Rock and started drinking*

{Revy Side}

Ruby: So, Revy?

Revy: What is it little red?

Ruby: Are you and Rock dating?

Revy: *cracks glass cup while blushing* W-w-WHAT!? NO!! Of course not. Why the hell would you ask that?

Nora: You look at him a lot.

Blake: You talk to him the most.

Yang: An unlike most, you call him your partner.

Revy: Well yeah cause he's useful. That’s all. Nothing special.

Weiss: Really, cause when you got drunk last time, we asked you about him, you got an attitude and started talking crazy.

Revy: Oh.

Yang: So how-

Revy: We started off at the wrong foot and we're just making up as we go.

Yang: Well that's great and-

Revy: Can't say the same thing for you guys and your friend Jaune, though.

Nora: Pardon?

Revy: I'm just saying, don't think you know everything about your friend, hell I don't think he cares about any of you.

Blake: *angry glare* What makes you say that?

Revy: Well let’s be clear here. Jaune was loser with dreams, he was willing to make those dreams a reality, no matter the price he didn't know he'll have to pay. And guess what, the debt was do and it caused Pyrrha her life.

Yang: Maybe so but-

Revy: And before you all start giving him praise for what he accomplished, let me ask you something. How did he feel afterwards? I mean, losing the only person to ever provide with some sort of love and respect, a family that never believed in once in his life, I say the kid must been a loser for a long time. And if him and his Sapphron were the only two to ever bother to leave the nest, then that proves that the rest of his siblings are just good for nothing nobodies who scared of the world, or just found more meaning in their lives without having to leave the comfort of their home. Face it, like Rock, your friend got something to prove and he's willing to do whatever it takes to prove himself to everyone. Even if it causes him his life and his humanity.

Ruby: No. No, we won't-

Revy: And what are you people going to do? Hold his hand? Give him those morally great speeches of yours? Pathetic. Just like your friend Pyrrha who died a meaningless death for worthless, foolish old man, who could barely do the job he's was given by god himself.

RWBYN: *angry at Revy comment but grows to accept it*

Ren was about to start threatening however Dutch stops him by reestablishing that one shot can turn the bar into a war zone and showing Ren that Revy always has her trigger finger ready. So, Ren does nothing.

Revy: Face it, you guys aren't capable of saving him. But what do I know, I'm no hero nor do I want to be? The only guy I seem to care about is changing and I don't know how he's going to turn out. To think that I might have to shoot him down someday. But fuck it, that’s just of missed up every world is.

Dutch: Wow Revy you changed.

Revy: What?

Benny: You act less bitchy than you were before and now you’re a little more open with others. Rock must have touched your heart.

Revy: Shut up, Benny. *looking red all over her face*

Everyone laughs at her embarrassment.

Revy: Oh, shut the fuck up you cunts! Hm. Anyways which one you are dating that knight in shining armor anyways since you're all worried about him?

Nora: I already got a boyfriend.

Revy: You mean twinkle toes right there. Mr. Emmo.

Nora: You must want to fight.

Revy: Anyone?

RWBY: Nope.

Revy: *makes a call*

Eda: Hey bitch, what do want?

Revy: Hey Eda do you like blondes? Because I got an average looking-

Eda barges in with her short green skirt and pink top shirt on. She looks at Revy, knowing what she wants, Revy points to Jaune with Rock and Eda makes her. She walks with hips swaying from side to side and sit between Rock and Jaune.

Rock: *surprised* Eda, what are doing here? When you did you get here?

Eda: Oh, Rock honey, I’m just taking advantage of my opportunities. *Sees Jaune staring in amazement. She smiles* Say, I heard rumors about you and your blonde friend right here and was wondering if you two would have some-

Revy and Weiss both break their glasses and make their way over.

Revy and Weiss: STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM YOU CUNT!!!

Revy surprised how Weiss and she were in complete sink and while she smug, Weiss was embarrassed.

Revy: Oh, so you like him like that.

Weiss: *grabs Jaune by the arm and pulls him away* EVERYONE! WE ARE LEAVING!

Jaune: But Weiss I finally found someone I can talk!

Weiss: YOU’LL PLENTY OF PEOPLE TO TALK TO ONCE WE GET HOME!!

Jaune: But Weiss- damn it, later Rock. See you someday.

Rock: God speed brother and remember everything I told you.

Jaune: You as well and good luck.

A bright light was opened and just like that the kids disappeared. Back to their universe. Revy and Rock were smiling but Rock, remembering what Jaune said about trust, ask Revy

Rock: Revy?

Revy: What up, partner?

Rock: Let’s say, I things took too far and made an enemy of someone who would want me killed. Will you be there to kill me instead? Even if you were paid to do so, will be there to stop me?

Revy: *smiles but then covers Rocks eyes so he never sees it* Of course. I got you into this, so you’re my responsibility. Partner.

Rock: *smiles* Thanks.

[justice4harwin]

All Too Well- part 2

Summary: Johnny Lawrence was a troubled kid, then a troubled teen, and although he hid this from most, there were a few people he allowed to truly know them.

Series of one-shots telling his story with one of those people. 

Part 1

Part 2: Johnny and Noelia’s first meeting.

Late August, 1982

Noe held the toy gun with a firm grip and closed an eye as she pointed at her target. Around her, the loud voices of games and people having a good time seemed to fade away as she forced herself to focus on the game at hand. This was only a little bit better than just awkwardly wandering around on her own.

Firing in quick succession, she almost didn’t miss and smiled to herself, lowering the toy as the screen switched onto the next level. She noticed a girl standing nearby.

“Oh, sorry. Were you waiting to…?” she left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air and pointed at the screen.

The girl, who had been staring, shook her head, her pretty blond curls bouncing about.

“No! It’s fine, really. You were here first. I was just watching while I waited for my friends.” she took a tentative step forward, so they wouldn’t have to talk so loudly. “You’re really good.”

“Thanks.”She stepped aside and motioned for the girl to stand in her place. “You wanna keep going? I was getting bored anyway.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, shortening the distance further.

Noe smiled, handing her the gun. Her dad had talked her into going to that place to meet some people before classes started in september. This seemed like the perfect chance.

“I’m Ali.” the blond smiled in return, turning her eyes to the screen and shooting. She missed almost half of the targets.

“Noelia.”

“You new here?”

Noe nodded, but Ali probably couldn’t see it.

“Yeah. My family moved here from Winsconsin a few weeks ago.”

“Cool!” she gave her a swift look. “Must be a big change.”

“Yeah, but I think so far I like it.”

Ali kept on missing despite Noe’s gentle advice, and soon the game was over.

“Sorry I ruined it.” she said with a grimace, putting the gun down and moving aside to allow two boys no older than twelve to take her place.

Noe waved a hand.

“It’s just a game.”

“They’re right there! It’s not like real hunting, you know? They’re just a few feet away.”

The other girl shrugged, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Maybe it’s the bright colors? I find them pretty distracting.”

Ali gave the screen a pitiful look.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Ali!” 

Both looked in the direction of the voice, finding a tall brunette waving next to a redhead. Ali turned to Noe.

“Hey, wanna join me and my friends? We were about to have a snack.”

“Are you sure they won’t mind?” It sounded good. Really good. Almost two weeks had passed since the move, and each day, Noe found herself lonelier than the last. Her parents had quickly settled into their new routines at their respectives jobs, and her little brother spent most of the day playing with the other kids from the complex. Noe had had so much free time in her hands that she had unpacked most of their stuff all on her own and even managed to fix a shelf in the kitchen without help.

“Yeah, c’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“Ok, but I’m getting some fries first.”

Ali motioned to her friends and guided Noe to the food stand, where she also ordered a slurpee. 

“So, which school are you going to?”

“West Valley. Sophomore year.”

Ali’s eyes widened.

“Me too! That’s so cool! Maybe we’ll share some classes.”

Great relief washed over Noe as she heard this. This girl seemed nice, plus It’d be great to know at least one person on her first day.

Hearing some commotion coming from the table Ali’s friends had sat at, both girls turned to look. The blonde groaned.

“Great.” her voice dripped sarcasm.

Noe looked on with curiosity as the table filled with a bunch of loud boys. 

“Friends of yours?”

“Friends of my friends, unfortunately.” the blue eyed girl answered.

One of the boys leaned closer to Ali’s friend and said something, to which the girl pointed in their direction and his head snapped up, zeroing in on them.

Caught, Noe hurried to look away and thanked the employee as he handed her the drink. Next to her, Ali’s mood had visibly damped. Of course, Noe wanted to ask, but she wasn’t too sure if it was the right moment for that. They had just met after all. Who knew the history there.

“Oh, great, now he’s coming over. Quick, pretend you’re with me.”

“I am with you.” Noe smiled, subtly raising her eyes to see the guy from before approaching. 

He was quite tall and seemed well built, his blond hair fell over his forehead, but they didn’t hide his blue eyes. Noe felt the straw falling back into the cup. He had to be pretty terrible, because otherwise she wouldn’t understand why Ali seemed to hate him so. He shouldn’t have a right to look so good.

He looked at her as he approached and crocked his head to the side, smirking. She looked away, embarrassed for getting caught.

Luckily, he walked past them, but she could feel his eyes on her, almost burning her. It was something she thought happened in her mom’s novels only.

Her new friend suddenly looked at her, seeming like she was trying to make a choice.

Noe was about to ask her when something collided with her back, sending her forward. Ali caught her by the arms, and Noe gasped as the icy contents of the cup spilled over her shirt, its cold contents against her hot skin causing a small shock.

“Seriously, Johnny?!”

“What?! It was an accident!” 

Ali looked as convinced of that as of the existence of Santa.

“Right. Just like you.”

Noe put the cup on the counter and looked down.

“Crap.” she muttered.

Ali was pushed back as another figure imposed itself into her line of vision.

“Hey, you okay there?” she looked up to find the blond guy again. His expression shone with excitement, which she found suspicious. “It really was an accident.”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” she waved him away, looking down again at her shirt. 

“Here, let me buy you another.” he offered quickly.

The blonde girl jumped back in and pushed the guy, Johnny, away with a hip thrust.

“You do that, jerk.”

“It was an accident!” he defended again, raising both hands.

She ignored him.

“C’mon. I’ll help you clean up.”

Noe let Ali take her hand and guide her to the bathroom without a word.

Looking back, she caught Johnny grinning from ear to ear at their retreating forms. He winked and she rolled her eyes half-heartedly.

Boys.

Johnny PoV

"Play nice." He had muttered to his boys under his breath and through clenched teeth as Ali Mills and her cute, new friend approached the group.

He stood up from his place at the edge of the table, his eyes never straying from the girl.

She was pretty. Petite, olive skin, rosy cheeks and eyes so dark they were almost black, except for those bright green flecks. Her curls hung loose down to her shoulders, which were exposed.

Maybe he could take a break from his attempts at wooing Ali, it wasn't really working anyways.

Ali stopped in front of them, but only addressed her friends.

"Girls, this is Noelia. Noelia, meet Barbara and Susan."

They both smiled and greeted the new girl, which she returned warmly as her eyes drifted to him and his friends.

Johnny took his chance, striding towards her. 

"Hey, I'm Johnny." He shook her hand, gazing into her eyes. He felt a rush, but quickly shook it off. "These are Jimmy, Bobby, Dutch and Tommy."

"Hi everyone." Her voice was soft, but easily heard, even with the commotion around them.  

"Look," he pulled her out of Ali's grip fairly easily and to the place he had saved for her next to Bobby. "I got your order for you, and another drink."

She smiled at him, like he was some sort of angel or something.

"That's very kind but you didn't have to."she reached for her pocket. "Please let me repay you for the drink."

"No, no I can't." He raised his hands, taking a step back. Jimmy and Dutch were laughing silently behind Noelia while Ali glared at them, arms crossed and looking like she had sucked on a lemon. She was the only one of the female group who seemed to see through their bullshit. "I spilled the drink on you-"

"It was an accident."she interrupted.

"And ruined your clothes-"

"On accident."

"It's just a drink, Noelia." He liked saying her name.

She stared at him for a few seconds, and Johnny felt like a small kid when they got praise. That unadulterated rush of pride and self-worth that boosted anyone's ego ran through him after so long as she finally nodded.

"Okay. Thanks." She sat at the table, and he was quick to follow up and take the space to her left. 

Ali sat on the opposite side next to Barb and gave him a warning glance.

Don't mess her up or else...

He chuckled internally and turned to listen as Noelia answered Susan's question.

She opened up slowly but steadily, and seemed to be hitting it off quite well.

"So, your parents moved here for work?" It was Bobby who asked, playing around with his straw. "What do they do?"

She swallowed her fry before replying:

"Mom's a dentist and dad's a surgical nurse."

Johnny snickered as Dutch, Tommy and Jimmy laughed. The girls and Bobby rolled their eyes.

"Your dad's a nurse?!" Dutch asked, almost in tears.

It was funny, but not that funny. Then again, Dutch could laugh at almost anything when he was as high as he was at the moment.

Noelia crossed her arms over her chest, her face going from angelic to malevolent as she glared at him.

"Yeah. Got a problem?"

Dutch ceased his laughter long enough to give her an obvious look as he gestured with his hands, like that would help get his point across.

"C'mon. That's a woman's job."

"So is being a hairdresser, which explains how you're so good at bleaching your hair." Ali spoke up without so much as a glance, finding her drink more interesting.

Johnny and the others outright laughed at this, including the girls. Noelia looked down as her shoulders shook, and then sent Ali a grateful look.

Johnny watched her for a moment and then at Dutch, his demeanor turning cold as he shook his head once in warning.

You're gonna ruin my chances.

Susan got up.

“I’m bored. I’ll go find a game.”

The other two got up, and after a discreet nod from the leader, so did the cobras. Ali turned back to Noe.

“Wanna come?”

The new girl checked her wrist watch and grimaced.

“I don’t think so. My dad’s picking me up soon.”

The blond’s face fell slightly.

“Oh, well, okay.” she perked up immediately after. “We’re throwing a party at the beach on saturday, to celebrate the end of the summer. You should come.”

“I think I can do that. Or I’ll see you at school.”

Ali nodded, and with quick words, they were all gone.

The girl turned and jumped, placing a hand to her chest. Johnny noticed her nails were painted black and slightly chipped.

“Sorry, I thought everyone left.”

He placed his elbow on the table and leaned against it.

“Thought I’d keep you company.” he smiled charmingly. It was the smile he used to suck up to the other parents in Encino.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go with your friends? I won’t wait long or anything.”

Discreetly, he scooted closer to her. He mustn’t have done such a good job, since she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m perfect here, hot stuff.”

She snorted softly, and the blush that rose to her cheeks wasn’t as deep as he was used to getting from other girls.

“Do you come here often?” she asked him suddenly, turning all her attention to him. He was slightly caught off guard. After a moment, Johny started talking, and she listened. 

She asked. He answered.

She asked. He answered. She listened.

She turned on the bench to face him, one leg on each side of the metal seat as he spoke of some of his favourite spots around the place.

He found it strange, but she truly seemed to be paying attention to what he said. She didn’t seem bored as he spoke, nodding along and making comments or side questions here and there, her rapt eyes on him, like being worthy of such magnitude of attention made sense. Like it was no effort to her. 

He stared at her here and there. From the posture, to the way her long, flowy skirt framed her legs, to the hands which now laid on the bench right in front of her. Goosebumps seemed to be raising in her arms, so he did something odd, and instead of being cheeky and telling her to scoot over to him, he took off his red jacket and handed it to her.

Her hair flew with the breeze too, some of it getting to her face. She’d catch locks with those slender fingers and push them away to no avail, but it didn’t seem to annoy her in the least.

Eventually, the disconcert settled, then faded and he recovered his balls, finally asking about her too. It seemed only fair, and part of him was genuinely curious.

“So, you’ve been living here for long?”

“No, we just moved in some weeks ago.”

“And wha-”

“Noe!” a honk followed the yell, and she looked to her left as he looked to his right and caught a glimpse of a man waving from the inside of a car.

“That’s my dad. I gotta go.” she stood up and took off the jacket, handing it back to him. Up on her feet, the multicolored lights seemed to caress her, creating a kaleidoscopic halo around her silhouette. She grabbed her empty cup, cardboard plate and looked at him like they were old friends already. “Do you go to West Valley too?”

He nodded and she smiled brightly, like the news was delightful to her.

“That’s great! I’ll see you around, Johnny.”

Was that the first time she said his name out loud? It sounded nice.

“Yeah. See you.”

She departed then, walking with a sprint, stopping once to throw her trash in a can, then a second time before entering the car to turn and wave at him, and got in. He blinked, a group of nerds got in the way, and when they moved the car was long gone.

Some snickers bought him back to earth.

“What happened there, Johnny?” Dutch and Jimmy approached him, evil glints in their eyes. “Was it love at first sight? Are you gonna burst into song now?”

Johnny rolled his eyes and swiftly swept Dutch’s leg. He almost fell on his ass.

“Nah, man.” he shrugged. “She’s hot. I may ask her out once or twice, you know; get some experience before I ask Ali again.”

Jimmy nodded, like it made as much sense as their theory about the pyramids.

“She’s a Reseda girl, after all.”

“Mm.” He stood up from the bench and stretched before putting on his jacket again.

As he followed his friends back in, cracking jokes and laughing, he felt a peculiar scent.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but it reminded him of a bakery early in the morning, when everything is just out of the oven. It was nice.

His group got together again and he quickly jumped in, making sure to be the center of attention.

[mistydacat]

Marichat Day 10 || Can I borrow your miraculous

This is technically Ladrien, but frankly, I don’t give a crap.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng lay in her bed, snuggling up against her boyfriend. Tikki was nowhere to be seen but was probably eating some sort of sugary snack somewhere.

"Adrien?" She started. He opened his eyes to look at her.

"Yes, Purr-incess?"

"Do you think I'd purr and stuff as Lady Noire?"

His cat ear twitched in confusion.

"I don't see why not. Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know, I was just thinking. To be honest, there were a lot of things we didn't get the chance to explore when we switched miraculous. I barely even got time to process the outfit change during the battle. You know the braid was supposed to be my tail? I thought that was really cool. I wonder if I could undo the braid, and I'd just have really long hair."

Cat Noir chuckled. "You were very cute as Lady Noire."

Marinette gave him a pointed look. "What? I'm not cute when I'm Marinette, Multimouse, or Ladybug?"

Cat Noir smiled and leaned to rub his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss.

"You know what I mean."

"Anyways, I hope we get another opportunity to switch miraculous. I'd like to be Lady Noire again."

He knew Marinette wouldn't say, "Can I borrow your Miraculous?" probably because she didn't want him to think she was obnoxious, so she was strongly hinting at it.

Cat Noir started sliding his ring off, his transformation coming off with it. Plagg appeared.

"The Miraculous aren't meant to be used for you to play dress-up with them." He grumbled in his nasal voice.

"We know, but just this once? We'll leave you alone to hang out with Tikki afterwards." Marinette promised, knowing the two kwamis enjoyed spending time alone together, though neither of them would admit it. "And, I'll make croissants with camembert."

"Alright, fine." He gave in with a huff. "But just with once!"

Marinette removed her earrings and handed them to Adrien, who put them on his own ears. Even though only the ring would be activated, the idea of wearing both the Miraculous of creation and destruction made her feel uneasy.

"Plagg, claws out! She said. There was a flash of green light, and her pyjamas were replaced with a black catsuit. Her hair grew much longer and into a braid. One her transformation was complete, she looked up at Adrien, who was now in his own "I heart Ladybug" pyjamas.

"You look adorable!" He gushed.

She twirled the end of her braid around. "Are those Ladybug pyjamas I see?" She teased.

Adrien's cheeks coloured slightly.

"Well, I'm flattered." She practically purred.

"I'm going to put my hair down, mind lending a hand?"

Adrien nodded.

Lady Noire got up and went to her vanity, grabbing a hairbrush before returning to Adrien. She placed the brush down next to her and removed the green elastic from the end of her braid before starting to unbraid it.

It took her a while, and Adrien had to help her. Once she was finished, her hair practically pooled around her. Adrien picked up the hairbrush, and Lady Noire turned, so her back was facing away from him.

He took a section of her hair and started to brush it.

"Tell me if I hurt you, okay?" He said, placing a kiss on her shoulder, though there were no knots or tangles in her hair.

"Okay." Lady Noire agreed.

"Can I do your hair?" Adrien asked after he finished brushing it out.

"You know how to do hair?" Marinette turned to face him, looking impressed.

"Yeah. How would you like me to do yours?" He responded.

"I don't know, surprise me."

Adrien thought for a moment before an idea hit him. He parted her hair into two halves and began working on braiding one of them, starting from her hairline.

"Tell me if it's too tight, 'kay?"

"Mhmm."

Around fifteen minutes later, Adrien was done. The two teenagers got up and went to the mirror so Marinette could see herself, Adrien had braided two elegant dutch braids into her hair, leaving out her bangs and the shorter strands at the front.

"Wow, this looks great!" Gushed Marinette. She turned to Adrien, taking his hands and placing a kiss atop his knuckles. "My purr-ince is very talented."

"You could do your hair in any style and still look beautiful." Adrien complimented. His innocent demeanour shifted, turning a little more flirty, a side of him he would only show as Cat Noir.

"Now, let's see what Cat tendencies I can coax out of you like you always do to me." He smirked, pulling Marinette to sit next to him on her chaise.

Marinette lay her head on his side, the way she had watched him do many times before.

"This feels a little awkward." She admitted, her right cat ear squished against him.

"Don't worry," He said, leaning down to place a kiss on her head. "You'll forget about it soon." He paused for a second.

"I've never been on the giving end of this before, so if I do something wrong, or make you feel uncomfortable, just tell me."

Lady Noire nodded.

Adrien brought his left hand to her head, scratching gently behind her ear. His other hand went to take or gloved one, tracing slow circles on the back of her palm.

Lady Noire closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch.

"You're good at this." She whispered.

Adrien let go of her hand, placing his index finger under her chin and using his thumb to stroke her cheek. He tilted her face towards him and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her nose's tip.

"My Kitty." He cooed.

Lady Noire blushed and looked away, a soft rumble sounding from her chest.

Was this how Cat Noir felt when she did this to him? Did his stomach flutter with butterflies at every touch, like hers was doing now?

"You're so cute." Continued Adrien, meeting her eyes.

"Who's my little kitten?" He asked, his voice patronizing, though she found it strangely satisfying.

"Me." She purred. "I'm your kitten." In any other situation, this would have been extremely embarrassing, but something about it was so intoxicating. Her brain felt foggy and sleepy.

"Good kitten." Adrien praised, though she hadn't really done anything. "Such a good kitty."

His words were like music to her ears. Her purrs grew louder, her way of telling him to keep going when she didn't trust her mouth to form coherent words.

"You have no idea how cute you look right now." He moved his fingers, focusing on a different part of her head to pet.

Marinette didn't know why, but him rubbing that specific spot just felt so good. She leaned into his touch, rubbing her head against his hand and accidentally letting out a soft mewl.

Adrien stilled. "Did you just..?"

Lady Noire whimpered and buried her head against his side, bring a hand to her face and hiding behind it. Her purrs silenced.

"No, no! I didn't mean it like that! Don't be embarrassed, I've done the same."

She uncovered her face and looked up at Adrien. Damn, she really felt like a cat.

"Can you do it again?" He asked, sounding a little shy.

Lady Noire took his hand and guided back to her head.

"Just keep doing what you were doing before." She mumbled lazily.

"Do you like it here?" He asked, scratching the spot that he had been petting before.

She mewled in response, closing her eyes as the sound of her purring filled the room again.

They continued like this for a while, Lady Noire getting sleepier and sleepier as time went on. Adrien was very much aware of this, so he wasn't surprised when she sat up on all fours, stretched and yawned, arching her back as she did so. Then she curled into a ball and placed her head in Adrien's lap.

"I'm going to sleep." She announced, her words slurred.

"Goodnight, ma Minette." He said, sighing and gazing tenderly at her.

She hummed in response, already halfway to Dreamland.

Adrien waited until she had been asleep for a few minutes before picking her up and carefully carrying her to bed. He tried to lower her down, but she held on to him, snuggling against his chest.

"You're too cute for your own good," Adrien whispered.

Realizing there was no way to leave without waking her, Adrien lay on the bed with Marinette wrapping herself around him. He carefully removed his ring from her hand, replacing the earing in her ears before sliding it back on his own finger.

Plagg flew out of the ring when Marinette detransformed, opening his mouth to complain, most likely. Adrien shushed him before he has the chance to start talking by placing a finger to his lips and pointing to Marinette.

"Tikki's probably in the bakery eating. If you wake Marinette or her parents, I will end you. Got it?" He whispered to Plagg.

Plagg nodded in understanding and dashed downstairs to meet his Sugarcube.

Adrien pulled the covers over him and his sleeping girlfriend, kissing the top of her head and whispering, "I love you, ma Minette."

Marinette stirred in her sleep, and Adrien worried he had woken her, but she only snuggled closer to him.

Then she muttered something that almost made his heart leap out of his chest.

"I love you, my Purr-ince."

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

[scarfacemarston]

HC Questions: John and Abi What books do they like to read?

Abigail can't read so it is whatever someone chooses to read to her. She likes listening to Hosea read his mystery novels. Modern Au: Can’t get enough of books. She has so many books and a lot of them she hasn’t read. Her favorites are mysteries, self improvement books, poetry and the occasional romance novel. (She will deny the book is hers. Nope. Mary Beth left it. )  John really  hates to read. I personally headcount that him learning so late in life made him very self-conscious and it was more difficult for him. Maybe slightly dyslexic? Again, that's just a personal HC. Modern Au: He likes the coffee table books that you can read in waiting rooms. Sometimes, he’ll glance through western novels. He is most likely to read car and motorcycle manuals. 

Modern AU - they both read children’s books to their kids.

What were they like in highschool?

Abigail was a cheerleader in high school, but she was forced into it by her foster parents. She was secretly a nerd, though. I can see her as the "nice outsider" one? (Even though this is stereotype crap.) She was always on honor roll because she was desperate to get out of her situation. 

She has a bachelors in agriculture science and a minor in women and gender studies. In college, she supported herself  by working at dive bars. Now she runs her farm with John, but the farm is her main focus whereas John's main job is Dutch's mechanic shop. She loves flower arranging and organic foods. They have a cow, horses and a few chickens. 

John will help Arthur and Charles with their contracting business for extra cash and work on the farm in the evening.

John in high school was a mess. Very angry, but secretly sweet. I kind of see him as being grunge like Kurt Cobain. Kind of behind the times because of his crappy foster homes. Probably into shop and maybe track.  Abigail and John played the "Does he like me?" game for a while. He tried to go to college, but it just wasn't for him. He liked history well enough and was wicked good at math, but that was it. He went to trade school. He loves fixing up old cars and motorcyles.

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

WELCOME TO HOPE COUNTY, MONTANA.

With the motto “Freedom, Faith and Firearms,” Hope County was a fine place to earn an honest living, find peace and solitude in the great outdoors, get away from the ever-encroaching urban sprawl, gaze up at the stars, and live free without an overbearing government or regulations.  But now that the Project at Eden’s Gate cult, known as “Peggies” in these parts, has arrived, the good folks of Hope County are under attack.  Backed by his siblings and an army of fanatics, the Father is quickly cultivating lost souls and preparing them for the Collapse.  And leaving a lot of blood and bodies in his wake.

Richard “Dutch” Roosevelt

The voice of the Resistance, Dutch has a checkered past and crotchety demeanor, but he is a vast source of knowledge about the cult.  He wants Hope County back and is here to help you use every tool at your disposal to ensure Joseph Seed gives his next sermon from the grave.

PROJECT AT EDEN’S GATE: THE BAD SEEDS

Joseph Seed: The Father

Hailing from a small town in Georgia, Joseph heard a voice telling him to “save as many as you can, whether they wish to be saved or not.” He knows the world is headed for the Collapse.  He is driven only by the Voice and the knowledge that he alone is humanity’s savior.

Jacob Seed: Herald of Whitefall Mountains

A cold-blooded Gulf War vet with a penchant for animal experimentation, Jacob is tasked with building an army of followers for his brother Joseph.

John Seed: Herald of Holland Valley

Younger brother of Joseph, John runs a successful law practice and is adept at marketing, using the power of “YES” to coax the curious into the cult.

Faith Seed: Herald of Henbane River

Joseph’s voice, proselytizing his message and keeping the congregation in a state of “bliss,” Faith is responsible for converting people and keeping them sedated with a mix of spirituality, drugs and music.

THE HOLLAND RESISTANCE

Mary May Fairgrave

Born and raised here, life wasn’t always easy, but it was good.  When Mary May’s parents died, the bank seized the Spread Eagle saloon, and the Project at Eden’s Gate bought it for pennies.  She’s not going to let this stand.

Find her at Fall’s End.

Pastor Jerome Jeffries

Serving in the first Gulf War and witnessing combat up close, Pastor Jerome first met Joseph ten years ago, but it wasn’t long before his unorthodox worship started to worry the Pastor.  Then came the lockdown.

Find him at Fall’s End.

Nick Rye

All of his life, Nick has resisted the idea of going to war, especially after John Seed’s aggressive attempts to buy Rye’s crop-dusting business.  It’s time to become a true American hero (as long as his wife says it’s okay).

Find him at Rye & Sons Aviation.

OTHER HOLLAND VALLEY FOLK

Merle Briggs (Silver Lake Trailer Park)

Boomer (Rae-Rae’s Pumpkin Farm)

Special Agent Willis Huntley (Howard Cabin)

Nadine Abercrombie (Dodd Residence)

Zip Kupka (Kupka Ranch)

Grace Armstrong (Lamb of God Church)

Larry Parker (Parker Laboratories)

Kim Rye (Rye & Sons Aviation)

Casey Fixman (Fall’s End)

Wendell Redler (Redler Residence)

THE WHITEHALL MILITIA

Eli Palmer

The leader of the Whitetail Militia, Eli struggles to keep his people alive against Jacob and his ever-growing army of converts.

Find him at Wolf’s Den.

Tammy Barnes

A tough-as-nails prepper who doesn’t suffer fools, Tammy is chief interrogator for the Whitetails and has a knack or getting answers from even the most hardened cultists.

Find her at Wolf’s Den.

Wheaty

Wheaty is the third main member of the Whitetail Militia; a young, smart war vet with a quick wit, who wants to prove his worth and take down the cult any way he can.  Joining the Resistance to help cope with a buddy’s death, he becomes more devoted to the cause every day.

Find him at Wolf’s Den.

OTHER WHITEFALL MOUNTAINS FOLK

Bo Adams (Bo’s Cave)

Wade Fowler (F.A.N.G. Center)

Chad Walanski (The Grill Steak)

Cheeseburger (Linero Building Supplies)

Hurk Drubman Sr. (Fort Drubman)

Hurk Drubman Jr. (Fort Drubman)

Dr. Sarah Perkins (MCA Mobile Lab)

Jess Black (Baron Lumber Mill)

George Wilson (Oberlin Picnic Area)

Skylar Kohrs (Dylan’s Master Bait Shop)

Dave Fowler (Fowler’s Retreat)

THE HENBANE RIVER COUGARS

Sheriff Earl Whitehorse

Earl was selected as sheriff of Hope County because he’s touch, fair, and can let the crap roll off his back when he needs to.  But the work has taken a toll, leading to one divorce and a mild heart attack.

Find him at Hope County Jail.

Mayor Virgil Minkler

When Virgil heard rumors that the Project at Eden’s Gate was involved in drug running, he went blind with rage.  He’s not going to sell out his people just to win back his job.  He wants these degenerate Peggies out of the region.

Find him at Hope County Jail.

Tracey Lader

When Tracey was deemed a loose cannon by the cult and sent to be “reprogrammed,” she felt the sting of betrayal.  She had given the Church everything.  Now she’s bent on crushing them into a million pieces. 

Find her at Hope County Jail.

OTHER HENBANE RIVER FOLK

Xander Flynn (Hollyhock Saloon)

Sherri Woodhouse (Can of Worms Fishing Store)

Miss Willhelmina Mable (Peaches Taxidermy)

Peaches (Peaches Taxidermy)

Adelaide Drubman (Drubman Marina)

Dr. Charles Lindsay (Mastodon Geothermal Park)

Sharky Boshaw (Moonflower Trailer Park)

Guy Marvel (Grimalkin Radon Mine)

Aaron “Tweak” Kirby (Aubrey’s Diner)

[musicallisto]

G'morning :) Would a sweet, familial fic with our camp bby Jack Marston and prompt: "Look a shooting star! Make a wish!" be okay to write? Been feelin' low, nowadays. Need some fluff, if it's alright with you

I told my friend a few days ago that I really wanted to write some New Year's party with a Happy Gang(tm), and then your request came in. You must have read my mind! I would love to explore more parties in my writing because Happy Gang(tm) is all I long for. Anyway, hope you like this, even if the rest of the gang is not exactly central, and sending lots of love your way ❤

(F!Reader + would recommend listening to New Year's Day by Pentatonix because it's how I got the idea in the first place, and it made me emo)

"Thirty seconds left!"

"Everyone ready!"

"Ah-- crap! My-- where's my watch?"

"Shut up, Uncle, I can't hear Dutch counting down."

"Fifteen seconds!"

"Well I can't know how much time we got left if I don't find my--"

"Just listen to him, you goddamn fool!"

"Ten seconds!"

"Arthur, John, Uncle, will you please be quiet?"

"I'm quiet. They're bickering."

"Five!"

"Cheers!"

"Not yet, you dumbass!"

"Happy new year, everyone!" Dutch's powerful voice roars out to the night sky, discretion long forgotten, sorrows fed to the flames. A cheer erupts in response. Some grab their loved ones for a good luck charm - you think you see John try to nimbly evade Abigail's kiss, before sheepishly giving in when she pouts -, some down the remainings of their bottles in one big gulp - Karen is even faster than Bill, and her loud, careless laughter explodes like your own show of fireworks -, some embrace, a glint in the eyes that could be tears hidden in their sleeves.

"To another year," Dutch breathes out, almost disbelieving that he's still alive to utter the words.

"To another century," Hosea replies, repressing a grin as he pats his oldest friend on the back.

And some, like you, observe, chest filled with warmth and stars, as the minute right after midnight, the first minute of the twentieth century overflows with joy and wishes and fraternity and love. Your family, an odd one at that, but the closest thing to a safe place you've ever known, raises a glass and a cheer for the new dawn... and first, for the new night, clean of its old grime, ready to be made into whatever the Van der Linde gang imagines.

And you imagine it grand.

Even little Jack has stayed awake for the occasion, battling his drowsy eyes and the temptation of his mother's arms to witness the commencement of his world. Abigail, although reluctant to the idea of keeping the boy up way past his bedtime, with the rest of 'em hooligans, what's more, finally gave in after John convinced her that neither of them belongs in this era that starts when the sun rises, but Jack does. Still, you've been a reliable scarecrow, all evening, keeping Uncle away from the boy - Uncle and his so-called miraculous cures for sleepiness, Uncle and his brandy, Uncle and his "it's just a little sip!". In the fireflies that shine in Jack's little eyes, awestruck at the radiant energy that runs through his aunts and uncles, his mother and father, you have no doubt that it was all worth it. If this is the world Jack is meant to see, you'd rather it start with laughter, with hugs, with joyful tales of the old times, with Javier's guitar, with Charles's subtle singing, and with Mary-Beth and Tilly's sloppy waltzes.

"Y/N! Happy New Year!" an uncharacteriscally enthusiastic Arthur exclaims, going in for a hug before you can even register if his breath smells of alcohol. You laugh against his chest, though you recognize the happy fever of a man who has scraped death way too many times to be picky about what brings him joy.

"Are you drunk already, Morgan?" you playfully retort, but you can't contain your laughter at his falsely outraged expression. It's like on the moment that marks another year, he's lost fifteen in age.

"Course not. Who d'you think I am? I'm just... happy."

"Happy suits you, Arthur," you respond, an affectionate smile making its way on your face. Everything you've been through with Arthur and the others flashes before your eyes, and you decrete right then and there that you're owed some respite, and that joy is the color that compliments best the gang's eyes.

A few moments later, when the rest of the gang has lost itself in a frenzied and clumsy dance, the most dauntless attempting to balance their bottles as they move, you come to rest by Jack's side, sitting in the grass. The air is fresher in this part of camp, devoid of fear.

"Happy New Year, Jack."

"Happy New Year, Aunt Y/N!" he sings, nodding his head to the rhythm of the dancers' feet. "Look at my Pa and my Ma!"

Following his excited finger, your eyes find two silhouettes standing out in front of the campfire. Their feet are heavier than most of the others', but you can hear their tipsy giggling and softened hearts echo every time they twirl, even from where you're sitting.

"Your Pa can dance now?"

"No," Jack hastens to answer, prouder than he should probably be, "he's improvising. He told me earlier. He hates dancing, you know? But he said he wanted to make Mama happy. And they're happy! Everyone is so happy."

You can swear, now that you heard the little boy, that John and Abigail's movements grow in elegance, this touching and life-changing elegance that things bear when they are done with love. And a wind of this same grace weaves its way into your chest, hastily pushing the laughter out of your mouth. Jack doesn't ask why you suddenly laugh; instead, he mimics it, and soon you're two hunched figures in the dark, watching a party unfurl in a clearing somewhere in New Hanover, watching the people you love most meddle together, reminisce about the old times and trip over their own feet, and the only logical, sensible reaction you can muster is to laugh.

The air has settled again between the two of you, and Jack's eyelids flutter more and more frequently, when you suddenly point at the sky, way above the illuminated canopy.

"Look! It's a shooting star, Jack! Make a wish!"

His tiny frame sits up straight again, scanning the sky for the white tear in the navy blanket above your heads. His brow furrows in concentration, and after a moment he tightly closes his eyes, as if that could, somehow, catch the attention of the burning star so very far from you, make it listen to the dreams of a child among a bunch of criminals. You've passed the age of wishing upon stars, and yet the fact that you're all living and together to mark and celebrate this oh so special night is the very symbol of the impossible. Without averting your gaze from the star's resolute course across the sky, you murmur to yourself your utmost desire. Maybe you're wishing on yourself, more than the lightning bug.

You wish that as long as you breathe, you never stop fighting for nights like these.

"What did you wish for?" you ask Jack when he's back to his senses.

The wake of the star is now long gone in the night, swallowed by the ink, but something tells you that Jack will never forget its brilliance. He still sees it, anyway. Not above his raised head, but in the campfire where his family is assembled.

"I'm not telling you! Or else it won't come true."

Leaning in with an air of conspiracy, you murmur in his ear, a secret not even the night can hear:

"I'm friend with a few stars. I'll tell them to make your wish come true. You can tell me."

After a moment of hesitation for the safety of the most crucial and closely-guarded secret in the little boy's life, he finally gives in, his face mirroring the mischievous smile you offer.

"I said I want to be just like you when I grow up."

"Just like me?"

But his little arms encircle a space that is wider than just you, that engulfs the merry chaos above your shoulder, the quiet, observant birds in the trees, his aunt Sadie whirling her knife around her fingers, and his parents now huddled together in a remote yet familiar embrace.

"Like all of you!"

You don't let the twinge of remorse get the best of your heart. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow, the ghosts of what Jack's life could have been, had he been born in a regular family, gone to a regular school, and scraped his knees on regular grounds, would haunt you in your sleep. But for now, all you do is ruffle his hair, and bring him close to your heart for a hug.

"Oh, Jack. You'll be a hundred times better, I'm sure of it."

When your breaths synchronize, you can't help thinking that you have no desire to die, but leaving for this little boy - dying for life itself would surely be the most honorable way a lowlife like you could ever go.

"Now, mister Marston," you break the silence with a grin, standing up and offering him your hand. "May I have this dance?"

[astaralys]

Of Nowhere in Particular, an icebros oneshot

Kristoff doesn't understand hair braiding. Or his sister-in-law, for that matter. In one lesson, Elsa demystifies both for him. A post-Frozen 2 icebros oneshot.

(a.k.a that one scene from ch. 6 of The Next Unknown that wouldn’t leave me alone until I’d given it another 2793 words...)

Can also be read on: FF.net || AO3

Thank you for reading!

-----

This was ridiculous. He could dig a snow anchor in his sleep. He could fasten knots so secure that the sled wouldn't budge an inch in a snowstorm. He understood stuff like this.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"You're not helping, Sven."

"You should just ask Anna to teach you."

"She showed me once when she was half-asleep. I've got this. Hold still."

"Kristoff?"

Yelping, Kristoff whirled around in time to see the ropes that had flown out of his hands land conveniently in Elsa's.

"Sorry for scaring you," she said sheepishly.

"Oh my god." Kristoff clutched his chest. "I thought you were Anna."

Elsa's brow furrowed in concern. "Did the two of you have a fight?"

"No! No, we're good—great. Seriously. It's just… I'm kinda trying to surprise her with something and you know Anna; never know when she's going to pop up. Or where. One time, she gave me, like, half a second's warning before she jumped out a second-storey window and I had to drop everything to catch her."

Nice one, Bjorgman. Now she'll think you're enabling her sister's recklessness.

"… Never mind. Did you, uh, need me for something?"

Elsa's lips curved. "Anna and I wondered if you might be free to join us for lunch." She raised the rope, which she had wound into a neat coil. "But now I'm wondering if I walked in on you putting Sven in a hogtie. He doesn't look very happy."

"We're just practicing some knots before our next trip into the mountains. Right, boy? Ow! Hey!" Sven had snorted and butted him.

Elsa arched a fine eyebrow.

Rubbing his back, Kristoff muttered, "Braiding."

"I'm sorry? I didn't catch that."

"Hair."

"Her?"

"Braiding her hair!"

Too late, Kristoff realised he'd practically yelled at Elsa. Anna's sister. His sister-in-law. Queen of ice and snow. Crap.

But she only stepped forward with mirth in her eyes. "May I?"

Dumbly, he nodded.

Sven held perfectly still for Elsa, allowing her to loop the ropes over his antlers. "You have way too many ropes. It isn't as complicated as it looks; most braids require only three strands." She looked over her shoulder to where Kristoff still stood, dazed. Her smile broadened in amusement. "Come closer. I have no intention of strangling you."

He reluctantly drew up to her side, shooting Sven a hapless look. His best friend ignored him and let out a snuff of pleasure as Elsa scratched his chin. Traitor.

"This is a French braid." Elsa's fingers wove through the ropes in an entirely different kind of magic. "Dutch braid. Pull-through braid. Waterfall braid. The varieties are endless. The symmetry of Anna's pigtails would be difficult for a beginner; I suggest you start with a simple three-strand braid."

Kristoff's eyes felt crossed just from watching. He latched onto the word 'simple'. "Is that the kind of braid you usually have?"

"Yes. It was the first style I taught Anna, too." She fastened the spare ropes to Sven's other antler. "Here, hold your fingers like this. Try to follow along, and tell me if you need me to slow down. Ready?"

He wasn't. How on earth did women do this every day? He'd once seen Anna and Elsa take turns braiding each other's hair at games night, shouting guesses at Olaf's enactments without once looking down at their hands. Utterly terrifying.

But Elsa had once terrified him, too. And now she was laughing as she leaned over to free his clumsy fingers from the dead knot he'd somehow created, her voice warm with patience. "I know it's difficult, but it does get easier. Let's try again. Left… cross—no, the other way. Yes. Now right… and cross again… that's it. You're getting it."

His hair had flopped over his eyes. His left leg was itchy. He wanted to sneeze. But Kristoff dared not take his hands or eyes off the braid, which looked nothing like Elsa's. If he squinted hard enough, though, he could just see it starting to take shape.

There was a rhythm to it, too, just like ice harvesting. Saw, clamp, lift, load… left, cross, right, cross…

Suddenly, Elsa clapped her hands together. "You did it!"

"I did?" Kristoff blinked, looking down. He stared. "Holy carrots—I did it!"

He repeated it to prove that he could. Then again. When he finally managed to do it without Elsa guiding him, Kristoff punched the air and turned to her with both hands held high.

She tilted her head quizzically.

"Hi-ten," he told her. "Two hi-fives."

"Oh. Yes, of course." After slapping palms, she added, "You have very large hands."

"Doesn't help with the braiding, trust me."

"But it does mean you'll be able to catch Anna when she falls." Before Kristoff could think of how to respond to that, Elsa asked, "Would you like to try for real now?"

"Catching Anna? Kinda did that a hundred times already."

"Braiding hair, Kristoff."

"Right. Uh… sure." He sweated at the thought of Anna wearing his ugly braid for the rest of the day, because he already knew she would refuse to take it out. Sometimes Kristoff still wondered how someone like her had ended up so irrevocably taking over the heart of someone like him.

Elsa twirled her hand, and a stool of ice rose from the ground. Then she sat down with her back to him, clasping her hands in her lap.

That was when it hit Kristoff that she meant for him to practice on her. "Are you sure? I mean, I'd like to. May I—I mean we me… wait, what?"

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Elsa chuckled. "You may."

"O-Okay... it's just, um, this is a lot. For me."

Even as he said it, Kristoff realised that it was a lot more for Elsa than it was for him. He knew her well enough by now to tell that she wasn't as relaxed as she tried to portray. They were two ends of the same chain, clicking together only when Anna was their connecting clasp. And they both knew that.

"I'm definitely going to mess up. My stupid salami fingers might yank out your hair."

"That's fine. When we were little, Anna used to pull my braid and pretend I was a racehorse."

It took a moment. Then Kristoff burst into laughter. "You're kidding me."

"Oh no, I am deadly serious. I was Elsa the Swift, proudly bearing Anna the Fearless-Viking-and-Sometimes-Dragonslayer into many vicious battles."

The strangest part was Kristoff could actually picture it. Not Elsa as a horse, but as a child zipping down the halls to indulge her rambunctious baby sister. Elsa with the chest of satin gloves Anna had told him about. Elsa withdrawing from others the same way Kristoff had—except she had been driven away by the horror of hurting them, and he had distanced himself out of fear of being hurt by them.

Then there was Elsa wiping a smudge of paint off of his cheek on Anna's perfect birthday. Elsa being the only one to understand that he'd been acting out 'alone' at last week's charades. Elsa opening her arms and hugging him back for a fraction longer each time she returned from the Enchanted Forest.

Elsa conjuring a second stool for him so he could sit down and braid her hair.

Kristoff gazed at the stool's flawless crystalline structure, as fine and strong and brittle as the silky hair in his hands, and wanted to say I love your ice.

Instead, he blurted out: "I love you."

Elsa spun around. Their wide eyes locked together.

"Ice!" Kristoff said hastily. He could hear Sven laughing behind him. "I love your ice! I mean, I don't not love—I do like you…"

Elsa's lips twitched. "Kristoff?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I also don't not love you."

Kristoff opened and closed his mouth. "That is very confusing."

"Double negatives usually are," she replied, turning back around. "But the meaning remains the same, no matter how complicated it seems."

Kristoff blinked, then sat down. Slowly, carefully, he combed a hand through Elsa's hair. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You really have nothing to apologise for."

"No, I meant… I'm sorry I wasn't there. When you and Anna found your parents' ship. And when you… you know. In Ahtohallan."

He couldn't see her face, and Elsa always sat with such poise that it was hard to tell, but Kristoff sensed her whole body go still.

He divided her hair into three strands. "I wish I'd been there. I should have been there."

"No one but me could have safely crossed the Dark Sea—"

"I know that. I know there was probably nothing I could have done. And I'm not saying you and Anna need my protection but…" Kristoff let out a frustrated sigh. "I was raised by trolls, Elsa."

She sounded confused. "I know…?"

"Trolls have very long lives." The rhythm of braiding lulled him into forcing the words out. "Reindeers are better than people, because people beat you and cheat you. And leave you."

Things had been so much simpler when it had just been him and Sven. Before Kristoff had learned how dangerous it was to care for someone. Before the only two people he trusted froze to death one after the other.

Left, cross, right, cross.

The braid slid out of his hands as Elsa turned around. "I'm sorry, too," she said softly. "For leaving you behind and…"

"Dying? Yeah, it'd be great if you could refrain from doing that again."

"You realise it must happen at least one more time, don't you?"

"You realise it would have sounded a lot more reassuring if you hadn't said 'at least', right?"

"Well," Elsa said with a bashful smile, "it wasn't like the first time was intentional. I thought it best to be safe."

"Safe," Kristoff retorted. "Please. You and Anna have no sense of self-preservation. Can you please develop some before I end up having to rule Arendelle? That would be tragic for all involved."

"'King Kristoff' does have a nice ring to it."

"So does Kristoff Bjorgman of Nowhere in Particular."

People like him were not meant to be called Your Highness. They did not marry queens and live in castles. They had no business gelling their hair, or learning how to braid their wife's at night so she wouldn't wake up with shocking bed hair.

People like him were never meant to have so much to lose.

"I've always envied people like you."

Kristoff blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Elsa's smile was distant. "This will sound conceited and ungrateful… but I spent most of my life wishing I could be of Nowhere in Particular, too."

Oh.

Sven shot him a baleful, look-what-you've-done look.

Kristoff swallowed. "I think I was there that night."

"I'm sorry?"

There was no way he could do this face to face, so he twirled his finger. Despite being clearly confused, Elsa still turned back around. If only Anna was as compliant.

Unravelling the half-braid that remained, Kristoff said, "I'd snuck out of the orphanage to hang out with the ice harvesters, and I got separated from them when your parents rode past me in the woods. You left behind a trail of ice; it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. So Sven and I followed it to the trolls. I didn't know it was you and Anna until way later, when I saw your ice palace and made the connection. I mean; I've seen a lot of ice, but none of it comes close to yours. I never forgot it—because that night, I remember thinking that I wanted to be you."

Elsa sucked in an audible breath. "You shouldn't have. It was the worst day of my life. I hurt Anna and I… I lost a lot of things that night, Kristoff."

"Yeah, but I didn't know that. I was a scruffy orphan feeling sorry for himself. All I saw was that you had parents who obviously loved you, a sibling to play with, and ice magic to boot. Everything I didn't have, and wanted. But then Bulda adopted me. I went from Kristoff of Nowhere in Particular to Kristoff of the Valley of the Living Rock—and now I'm supposedly Prince Kristoff of Arendelle."

He began the braid again, his fingers steadier this time. "I'm sorry that you were scared that night. If I could go back, I'd jump out of the bushes and tell Pabbie to leave Anna's memories alone, and to save those visions for when you were older. But I'm not sorry that you are you, Elsa, because… well—let's just say that the worst day of your life set into motion the best of mine. You're the reason I have a family."

Anna falling quiet usually meant something was wrong, but Elsa's silence was a part of her; a bridge as much as a barrier. When he'd first started staying in the castle, Kristoff had instinctively hid himself whenever servants or guards approached, unable to shake off the feeling that someone would tell him he wasn't supposed to be there. He'd discovered many broom closets this way.

Every now and then, though, he'd slip into a random sitting room and stumble across Elsa tucked away, reading. There was always a startled, wary edge in her expression when she looked up, but Kristoff had also learned to expect the subtle relief when Elsa recognised that it was just him. She'd offer a smile and sometimes tilt her head or raise an eyebrow. Then she would usually return to her book without saying anything, leaving only an indescribable warmth in the silence; assuring him, without words, that he was welcome to stay.

Sometimes they sat and talked. Sometimes she read and he napped, and they'd both jump out of their skins when Anna inevitably banged into the room with leaves in her hair, ducklings in her hands, and sunshine in her eyes. Sometimes Kristoff would slip out of a busy ballroom and onto a secluded balcony, and she'd already be there catching a breath of fresh air. Sometimes, they'd wordlessly share a flute of champagne one of them had brought out, and he would understand in her tired smile that Elsa of Arendelle and Kristoff of Nowhere in Particular were not so different after all. Two fixer-uppers guided by the same landmark.

Elsa's voice sounded raw as she said, "May I change your life a second time?"

"It'll at least be the fifth time, but sure."

"If you give Anna a pillow to hug and use a hot water bottle to warm up the bed near her feet on cold nights, she won't kick you in her sleep."

"… Are you serious?"

"Yes. Although I do advise wearing an extra layer. I haven't found a way to stop her from stealing the blanket."

"What about the snoring? Any tricks for that?"

"Mother had a way of simply closing her mouth, but I also have not figured that out yet."

He finished the braid and held it over her shoulder. "If I can, do I get a prize?"

Elsa secured her hair with a touch of ice, and smiled back at him. Her eyelashes were heavy with unfallen tears, but her eyes shone with warmth. "I hope you're not expecting another medal and sled. I've already given you my whole world."

She had. She'd given him the gift of summer, wrapped in laughter and strawberry blonde hair.

Who they could now hear calling their names.

Kristoff and Elsa looked at each other.

"Bucket," he predicted, as they both stood up.

Elsa shook her head. "Dress."

Standing at the door, they watched Anna's face light up as she spotted them. She flounced across the courtyard, evading buckets of soap water left behind by the cleaning staff and even remembering to lift her dress as she ran. There was hope.

Then they saw her shoes. "Heels," Kristoff muttered, as Elsa sighed, "Oh dear."

"There you guys are! Are we having lunch or ho-whoooaa!"

The Queen of Arendelle landed face first in a fluffy mound of snow.

Elsa lowered her hand and gave Kristoff a pointed look. "Your wife."

"Your sister."

A snowball exploded on the doorframe above, showering both of them in white.

Anna giggled in the background.

Kristoff shook the cold out of his hair and began to roll up his sleeves. "Our idiot?" he suggested.

"Queen of Poor Decisions," Elsa agreed, calmly brushing herself off as a winter breeze swirled at her feet.

Anna was already running, her laughter floating up into the sky.

Reindeers were better than people; Kristoff knew that was true.

For all except two.