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hunterssm00n · 7 months ago

Text

Family is Forever

"I just found it interesting that... 17 years later, that little baby grew up to shoot him in the face."

also on ao3: here

*cw trauma, past violence, dysfunctional family, psychological trauma, aftermath of violence, serial killers, childhood trauma, michael myers is his own warning, mental institutions, emotional baggage*

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"I just found it interesting, that... 17 years later that little baby grew up to shoot him in the face."

~~~~

It had been three weeks, and the wounds still hadn't completely healed.

The physical ones, she was referring to. The stitches were still deeply imbedded in her skin, and if she moved her face just the right way, she could feel the skin begin to split. Scarring was inevitable - she didn't need the doctors to tell her that. Physical and mental. While the physical scars were merely cosmetic, the mental scars were deeper than the sharpest knife.

Three weeks, and she still hadn't been able to shake this. To shake him.

Laurie Strode closed her eyes to her reflection. She should've known better; when she closed her eyes, he loomed larger than ever. The dark circles under her lashes were proof of that - she hadn't slept well in three weeks (some nights, she hadn't slept at all). But really, who the hell blamed her?

Even now, Laurie wanted to go back in time and close her eyes to some of the things she'd seen. She'd never considered herself to be a sheltered child. She wasn't the most worldly seventeen year old, granted, but her parents had usually let her experience things that a normal teenager should be able to.

God, her parents. Tears came to her eyes at the memory.

Or, were they? She wasn't sure about anything, anymore. In any case though, biological parents or not, she still loved them; they had raised her, after all.

Laurie, in the midst of being rushed to the hospital after the incident, had overheard someone - be it a cop, paramedic - mention something about a family history of mental illness, and how the Strode's had managed to keep her from being like a woman named Deborah and a man named Michael for so long...

She was taking a wild guess, but she was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to hear that. She didn't even know what it meant.

This was what had led her to agonize for the past three weeks over the absurd possibility that the Strode's were not her real parents... something she had never even considered until now.

And the man... the one who, after terrorizing her for one night, now seemed to perpetually terrorize her every night in her head. Who was he? And what on Earth did he want from her?

Laurie knew, looking at her tired, wild-eyed reflection in the mirror, that somehow, all of this was connected. Part of her wanted to brush everything under the rug, and just forget what had happened. Another part of her knew that she wouldn't be able to move on if she didn't find out what the fuck was going on around here. And she also knew who she'd have to ask. The white haired man who had tried to save her- she prayed he would be able to answer her questions. He had called the nightmare male form Michael - she didn't think it was a coincidence that she had heard that name before. The white haired man, Dr. Loomis, had told Michael that 'it wasn't Laurie's fault', and to 'let her go'. What exactly was 'it', and why would this giant man, whom she'd never met in her life, think that she was somehow responsible?

Dr. Loomis knew something she didn't. She had to get these things figured out. She would never find peace, otherwise.

Laurie looked at her reflection in the mirror. Seeing the scars up close, for some reason, brought tears to her eyes. Why did this happen to me? She didn't care that she was 'feeling sorry for herself' - she had every fucking reason to.

And now, she had a feeling she was going to feel even sorrier when she uncovered a truth that it seemed everyone knew but her.

~~~~

As Laurie limped up the hallway towards the room Dr. Samuel Loomis was residing in in the special care unit, she pushed all thoughts that were urging her to run away to the back of her mind. Now that she was so close to knowing, it was like a physical need. 508, 508, 508... she searched the numbers on each door that she passed, and briefly hoped Annie's car wouldn't have a ticket under the wiper when she went back out to retrieve it. Mostly because she had taken it without permission, and she didn't want anyone to find out she was here. Undoubtedly, Sheriff Brackett would find out somehow - he always did; had since she and Annie were kids. While Laurie was forever grateful to him for letting her stay at his house - especially while his own daughter was in the SCU as well - she was aware that he also knew more than he was letting on, and if she was to ask, she knew he'd keep his mouth shut.

So, she'd found out what room the good doctor was in, hijacked Annie's car, and had driven to the hospital. She was going to be in some very deep shit after this, but she had the leverage of only wanting to know what everyone was keeping from her. So they'd all just have to back the fuck off.

508. Finally, she gimped to a stop in front of the room. She'd left her crutches in the car, as as not to draw attention to herself. Also, in case someone recognized her (like Brackett himself, or one of his cops), she'd be able to make a less messy getaway. That is, unless one of the stitches in her leg tore open. Why am I worried about this? I have every right to know who I am.

"Holy crap, here goes nothing." Or everything. Laurie took a deep breath, and opened the door to the room.

To her immense relief, Dr. Loomis was awake, watching TV. He recognized her immediately, as evidenced by the look of utter surprise on his face. Laurie let the door close behind her, and she limped over to the chair next to the bed on the left side.

"My dear, how are you?" asked this man whom she didn't know.

Easing herself slowly down into the chair, so as not to tear any of those damn stitches, she looked at him with a weary expression, "About the same as you; plus over a hundred stitches all over my body, minus four fingernails, and enough glass in my gut to make a windshield."

Dr. Loomis struggled to prop himself up into a sitting position in his bed, but Laurie reached out to touch his hand, "Please." She didn't want him to injure himself further, as he had almost been murdered trying to protect her. Her, this girl that he had never met in his life.

The white haired man turned his blue eyes onto hers, and then she realized she was crying, yet again. "Please, I - I -"

"Shh, it's alright," Dr. Loomis reached his other hand out so that both of his hands were clasping her outstretched one - it was about as much as he could move with an IV in his arm.

This was not what she had planned - she had carefully rehearsed what she was going to say before she came.

"Who is he?" she blubbered, snot running down her face. She hadn't wanted to spring this on him without conversation first, to soften him up, but she was far beyond the point of reasonable interaction at this moment. Dr. Loomis handed her the tissue box that was on his bed, and she took the whole thing, mushing two tissues into her watery eyes. Dr. Loomis didn't answer - he, himself, had been trying to rehearse what he would say when this happened. She had been a loose canon from the moment Michael had taken her hostage... Dr. Loomis knew that she would get an idea in her head, and it would eat away at her sanity until she found answers.

Unfortunately in this situation, the truth may have been worse than not knowing. It would certainly be a hard pill to swallow. Looking at her tear-stained, tired face, he didn't want to lie to her. The poor child had been through enough. And if she didn't find out from him, she'd find out from someone else, eventually. Someone who didn't know every extensive branch of this horrid story.

Once she calmed down a bit, she looked up at him with a silent plea in her eyes. "Who is he?" she asked again, "Why did they say that I wasn't a Strode?" To her own ears, her voice sounded foreign, almost like a childs. She grabbed another few tissues and wiped at her face, not looking away from the man in the bed.

He knew that she had to know, but at the same time, he didn't want to tell her. He wasn't quite sure how.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he struggled to come up with the words that would begin this nightmarish story, "... His name is Michael. Michael Myers." He saw a flash of recognition in her eyes at the name, and he wasn't surprised. Everyone knew that last name - they all knew the house, and that something terrible had happened there. The younger generations, such as Laurie's, were fortunate enough to not remember it as a real event, but rather as a horror story used to scare children. Not everyone knew the full story. Dr. Loomis was one of the few that did.

"Michael..." he began, then switched gears, "I assume you know the last name, and the rumors that are spread about it?" When she nodded, he continued, "I assure you, it isn't just a spooky story - it's so much more. Michael lived in the house with his family. He was a sweet boy, almost an old soul... but he had a-" How on earth to phrase this? "-a rough life. And when he was ten years old, he murdered three people in his home on Halloween night." Loomis swallowed, then continued. "He killed his mother's boyfriend, his older sister, and his sister's boyfriend as well. He then went into his baby sister's room, took her out of the crib, and sat on the front porch with her until his mother got home from work. Michael was taken to Smith's Grove sanitarium. After two years of incarceration, he stopped speaking indefinitely. As far as I know, he hasn't said a word since. His mother went on to commit suicide, and Michael remained in the sanitarium for seventeen years altogether... until one night, he escaped. Some guards became a little too comfortable around him, forgetting that he had murdered more than three people before he was fifteen. He broke out, and headed to Haddonfield - to his home."

Laurie tried piecing all of this together in her mind, and continued to wonder what the hell it had to do with her.

"Why did he kill my friends?" She felt the tears start again. Was it because Linda had been trespassing in his house? But then why had he tried to kill Annie? She hadn't even been on the same street as the Myers' house. "Why did he take me?"

Dr. Loomis took another breath, not looking at her. "I knew Michael's motivation would be to find his baby sister... She was the only other person besides his mother that he cared about. That's the only reason he came back here."

Laurie still didn't understand - the answer that her mind came up with made no sense. "I don't know anybody named Myers, though. There's no one in school with that last name. Why would he think I would know anything about his family... me of all people..."

Suddenly, it came to her, feeling like a train had unexpectedly come crashing into her at hyper speed. "Oh, God, I'm not - I'm not related to him, am I? Like a cousin, or something?"

Dr. Loomis looked at her then. "Laurie, you are his baby sister."

The weight of his words crushed her lungs, and a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry - she didn't know if she could even do either one with this horrible heaviness in her chest.

The tears came again, "Please, are you telling the truth?" This couldn't be real. There was no way.

"Laurie," the white haired man looked somber, squeezing her hand, "I wouldn't joke about this, I assure you."

"So I'm not -" she blubbered, reaching for more tissues, "I'm not a Strode? I'm a Myers?" Every breath hurt; just the physical act of inhaling and exhaling seemed to be causing her actual pain. Her vision was becoming blurry.

"Yes," Dr. Loomis said with finality, his voice grim, "You are Michael Myers' sister."

Her vision went black, and Laurie screamed loud and long as she was sucked back into the world of consciousness. Her eyes shot open she realized she was in the guest room of Annie's house, where she had been staying for the past two months. Upon becoming aware of this fact, she relaxed back onto the mattress, trying to catch her breath. She hadn't screamed like that in weeks. Before the incident, she couldn't remember ever having screamed like that. It was exhausting, as well as embarrassing.

Laurie rolled over in bed, and turned the clock to face her head on the pillow. 5:11am. She still had another hour and a half before she would start getting ready for school. Sighing, she pulled the blankets up around her face, rolling onto her side. Whenever she awoke from her nightmares, it was usually a bitch and a half to try and fall back to sleep. She would wake up so suddenly; her heart pounding as he body would jolt itself up off the bed like she had been electrocuted wide awake to protect herself.

It was a legitimate fear - the reason for her nightmares was very much alive, and, as far as she knew, still sitting in Smith's Grove sanitarium (for the second time in his life). He had killed one of her best friends, attempted to kill another, and had taken her hostage in the basement of his house.

Their house; a sick part of her mind liked to remind her that she had lived there once, too. That was her intended home - the place she almost grew up in.

Angel. Her mind sounded out the word a thousand times in different tones, like some strange lullaby. Angel Myers. Much more interesting than Laurie Strode. But she was Laurie Strode. This Angel - how was an Angel Myers supposed to be? Probably nothing like a Laurie Strode.

She wondered if she would have turned out the same, had she grown up in that environment - so different from how the Strode's had raised her. Would she have the same values? The same morals and beliefs? Would she have dressed the same, acted the same? She doubted it. From what she had found out about her blood family, she would've probably been in juvie by now. Maybe she would've even picked up that knife, at some point -

Laurie squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to think about that.

And then there was the fact that she had a brother. Technically, she'd had two siblings, but her brother had murdered their eldest sister. What had she been like? Judith Myers... What would having a sister be like? Laurie had spent her whole life thinking she was an only child; it would've been so different from her single-child life now.

Her mind continued to wonder, and it kept drifting back to the one person she equal parts didn't want to think about, but at the same time, the person she wanted to know about the most.

Michael.

She also often wondered if he would have turned out the same, had she not been taken away from him. Most likely, she thought to herself, since her presence as a baby hadn't quelled his bloodlust in the first place. She'd only been removed from the house, as well as from the official report, once their mother had decided she just couldn't take it any more.

The whole thing was like a soap opera.

Michael was her brother, but she had barely perceived him as a human being - more so as a personification of her worst fears coming to drag her away. The mask he wore was all rotted and peeling - much like a hulking zombie. He was nearly seven feet tall. And he had instilled a fear within her that was so jarring, so deep, that she felt her chest clench just thinking about him.

That nightmarish man was her brother, and Loomis had said that she was the only person alive that he cared about.

This was why she had called Smith's Grove and asked if Michael Myers could have visitors. Once she explained her situation to the nice secretary, the woman had told her yes, surprisingly. The fact that Dr. Loomis had called a few hours before to ask the same question (on her behalf) probably had helped a little, she mused.

She could barely stomach the thought of having to go to school first. She was debating staying at home until she went over to the asylum to visit him. This was only her third week back at school - this was not at all how she imagined senior year would be. At this rate, she had missed enough school that she would either have to take summer classes, or just re-take the grade completely.

Who would've thought that one holiday would change almost everything?

~~~~

When Laurie stepped into the Smiths Grove, three thoughts went through her head at once: "I'm gonna puke", "I need to get out of here", and quite possibly the loudest thought, "One step at a time". That was what her psychologist kept telling her, and she repeated it daily like a mantra; one step at a time. One day at a time. One moment at a time. Take it all in stride, at whatever pace you need to go at. She held onto the advice like a lifeline; sometimes it was all she could take to keep from sinking to the floor in a hysterical mess. Kind of like right now, where she didn't know if she should try to turn and run as fast as she could, or if she should keep going. I'm here for a reason, I came this far. Just one step, one foot in front of the other. Another thought, perhaps the one that pushed her forward the most, whispered in her mind: This is the only way. Taking a deep breath, Laurie slowly started hobbling towards the front desk on her crutches. That last thought rang true: this was the only way. She had to know, had to be certain. Of what, she didn't entirely know. But she needed this.

She smiled, or tried to as she approached the front desk, realizing that it probably looked more like a grimace. She could only imagine how much like the Bride of Frankenstein she looked at the moment, what with all the stitches adorning her face and her hair flying around her head all crazy. She nervously tried to smooth it down with one hand as she parked herself in front of the desk, "Hi, um, I'm - My name is Laurie Strode," She took a deep breath, unsure of how to possibly continue. I'm here to visit the man that did this to my body, and also put this crazed-constantly-on-the-verge-of-a-breakdown look in my eyes.

Thankfully, the brown haired woman behind the check-in desk smiled, rising out of her chair, "Oh yes, Dr. Loomis called and said you might be coming." She reached a hand across the counter to gently grasp Laurie's. She tilted her head with a kind look, "I don't mean to pry, but are you sure you're up for this?"

Laurie thought for a long moment, deciding that this woman seemed too genuine and kind to lie to. "No." she answered honestly, "I'm not. But I have to do it now, or I never will." It was true - now that she was finally here, the fear and anticipation rising, heart in her throat, she knew she might never have this chance again. She'd probably get thrown in here right next to her brother if Sheriff Brackett found out she was even remotely close to this vicinity. Laurie could just imagine him saying to her, a pleading look in his eyes like the one he got when he just didn't know how to help her. Why Laurie? Why? I thought you were terrified of him.

I am, Laurie mentally answered to the scenario in her mind, More than I've ever been afraid of anything.

The rest of her registration seemed like a blur - then finally she was being led down a narrow hallway, weird fluorescent lighting beaming down on her. There were two guards escorting her, one on either side. Their dark clothes were beginning to blur in her vision as they continued their slow trek down the hallway. The metal clicking of her crutches with each step seemed to be growing louder in her ears, kind of like a bell tolling, or a blacksmith forging... Or a knife slicing through someone's back-

She stumbled briefly, catching herself before she faceplanted on the linoleum. The guards on either side of her immediately hopped to help, and she practically slurred, "I'm okay, I'm fine."

"You sure you're gonna be alright, Miss?" The guard to her left inquired. Laurie nodded in reply, beginning to start her trek back down the hall. They were almost at the end - she couldn't stop now. Almost there.

They reached the door, which was more of jail cell bars draped across the hallway. Past this point were the more dangerous patient's in maximum security, security had informed her before they'd started walking. The other guard to her right tapped his badge on the scanner, and the metal bars slowly started to open in front of them. All three of them stepped in to the small area about four feet by four feet between the sliding 'doors'. There was another guard on the other side where they were going to as well - definitely stationed there to stop any escaped patient's from getting through those doors. Laurie wondered, as the one set of bars clanged shut behind them, if there had been anyone at that post the night her brother had escaped. She shuddered inwardly, and decided she'd rather not think about that. Once the doors behind them were securely locked, the guard on the other side opened the doors in front of them. Laurie noted that they'd probably only open for someone with authorization, and only one set of bars would open at a time. She made sure to remember both of these factors just in case she would need to make a break for it.

She cleared her throat as they began to walk forward again, "Are these the only doors leading in and out of this wing?" she asked to anyone in particular.

"Yes ma'am," the man to her left spoke again, "And there's an officer here at all times."

Laurie tried to be comforted by that. She also tried not to remember how very easy it had been for her brother to dismantle the two cops that had responded to Lindsay's 911 call while Laurie had been in the house with the kids.

"Miss?" Someone was speaking to her, and then she realized both guards were looking at her.

"Uh, what?" God, maybe she shouldn't have taken her pain pills before she came; not to mention before she drove a car that wasn't hers.

"Are you ready?" Randy asked, motioning to the doors leading to the room that awaited them. It was then for the hundredth time that Laurie felt how not ready she was, her breath catching in her throat as she realized this was her last stop.

"Is he-" She almost couldn't finish her sentence, voice catching in her throat.

"Not yet, they're grabbing him outta his room now," the officer replied, then seeing her look of fear added, "Don't worry, there'll be six guards in the room wit' ya. He can't do anything."

Again, hobbling through the doors, Laurie tried very hard to be reassured. The words held no water; she'd seen her brother take more than one bullet and keep on going.

This room that they had just entered looked to be a cafeteria, of sorts. It kind of resembled a school lunch setting, but much bleaker. She decided that she didn't want to relate any of this to her normal life at all, and shook the thought from her head. Once she was settled comfortably at a table near the entrance, Kevin grabbed the vocera attached to the front of his uniform and spoke into it, "We're all set here, go ahead and bring Myers."

It was all Laurie could do to stay in her chair and not try and break out the door. This is actually happening, sweet Jesus. Her hands shook on top of her thighs. For the next few minutes she focused solely on breathing, staring at the table surface in front of her, attempting to keep her heart rate down. When she finally heard the door start to open, it felt like she was going to die right there. When she heard the chains clinking and the feet shuffling across the floor, she thought of how very good it was that she was already sitting down, for if she'd been standing she would've collapsed. And when she heard the chair across from her scrape against the floor as it was being pulled back, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she would never be the same after this.

Her hands gripped her thighs hard to cease trembling as she looked up very slowly. He was already looking at her, just as she'd expected. What she had not expected was the sheer size of him, nor the mask on his face, nor the crushing power of his gaze that practically withered her away to pure nerves. The only sound he made was gentle breathing, and he didn't move at all. He unnerved her so much just sitting here, staring at her, that she wanted to cry. But she didn't. She forced herself to look directly into those eyes, and addressed him as bravely as she could, "Michael."

The words came out in a whisper, a side effect of her fear, and she cleared her throat so that her voice would carry more volume. "Michael." To the untrained eye, it would appear that the name had no effect on the being in front of her whatsoever. However, Laurie noted that he did, in fact, react to it in possibly the only way he could. He straightened in his seat ever so slightly; such a miniscule thing, but she was watching him so intensely that she could see everything. Were it not for him breathing, and the slow pulsing vein in his neck, he could've passed for a dead body propped upright in the chair.

Laurie waited for something, anything else to happen. She waited for what felt like minutes. He did absolutely nothing else. Didn't say a word, didn't move a muscle. It was dead quiet in there, save for his breathing. One of the guards radio's crackled, and the sudden sound startled Laurie out of her stupor. Michael didn't flinch, unbothered by anything and everything. She wondered what exactly was wrong with him. He didn't look sick - not like other mentally unstable patients she'd ever seen or heard of, which admittedly was not many. This wasn't like the movies, or TV shows she'd watched. He wasn't foaming at the mouth, wasn't speaking in tongues, wasn't climbing up the walls. He wasn't emaciated or deathly pale. There was something wrong with his mind, but what exactly, she didn't know. She wasn't sure if anybody knew. What she did know was that anyone who had assumed this seemingly catatonic man was a ten year old trapped in a thirty-something year old's body was dead wrong; there was fierce intelligence swimming in his eyes. That she could see from any distance. They gleamed underneath his long, scraggly dirty blonde hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed in months. Underneath the crude paper mache, orange mask that looked vaguely like a jack-o-lantern.

She had to admit, even as her hands were still trembling on top of her thighs under the table, and even though her stomach still churned, she was enthralled by him. She wasn't sure what it was about his presence, but it held her hostage just as much as he had when he'd kidnapped her. She knew that her obsession with him on top of her fear was part of what had drawn her to come to him today. Laurie also couldn't deny; knowing that she had family, real blood family sitting right here before her eyes... it stirred something within her. And that was the only thing keeping her here.

She wasn't sure how long they sat there just staring at each other; studying each other openly. Well, she assumed he was studying her. He didn't appear to be doing anything other than collecting dust in the chair across from her. She knew that she should probably get going soon, unsure of what time it was at the moment, and even more unsure of when the Sheriff would return home to check on her. She had known from the get-go that there was always that possibility that he would realize that she had gone, more like probability. But if she covered her tracks well, he'd never know where she'd really been. No one would.

Though she was still terrified beyond reason, she was also intrigued enough to come back. Admittedly, she wanted to know more about her brother, even after all the horrible things he'd done. Why had he done those things? What had driven him? The answer to that would probably lie within their family environment that he had grown up in. She had to find out more about her blood family, and maybe she'd get some answers. She wanted to know him; though he'd caused her pain and fear beyond her imagination, she knew that he wasn't completely to blame for his own state of mind. There had to have been something terrible that had happened to him in order for him to be the way that he was. Despite everything he'd done, she felt a spark of sympathy for the man in front of her.

Her attention was immediately drawn to her brother when he shifted in his chair, and despite herself, she flinched. She knew there was (probably) no way he could break out of those chains, with his arms handcuffed to the back of the chair behind him. Then again, underestimating people like him was usually what got others into a lot of trouble. And after seeing all the mayhem he had previously caused, underestimating him was the last thing she should be doing. She looked at him, realizing that he had probably moved to get her attention, and for no other reason. Had she been zoning out again? She knew she had to get going before she became too lethargic, as inevitably the pain pills would soon kick in full force.

Very slowly, Laurie reached into her sweatshirt pocket with her bandaged right hand. She pulled out a folded photograph; the very one that the man before her had given her in the basement of their old house. She would never admit how many times she had just sat and stared at the picture, sometimes for hours. If she awoke from nightmares and couldn't sleep, she took the picture out from the top drawer of her nightstand and stared at it until her eyelids drooped. How very different things were when that picture had been taken; a little smiling blonde haired boy with nothingness in his blue eyes holding a screaming baby who clutched him like a lifeline. The picture had woven its way into her soul and filled some lonely place there.

Unfolding it, she looked at the photo one final time before she slid it across the table to stop right in front of Michael, her hand trembling despite all her efforts to stop it. He followed the picture across the surface with his eyes before tilting his head up to look at her fully. She looked back at him, and something passed between them. She could feel it, and she knew by the way he continued to stare at her that he felt it too. Somewhere in the distance an alarm sounded, and yet they remained unmoving; the Myers siblings, both silent and still in the chaos. Family. The hair on the back of her neck rose. There was no going back after this.

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AN: I do not own the Halloween franchise or any of it's characters. The above photos are from pinterest, and attached are links to the original posts.

22 notes · View notes

drpeppertummy · 22 days ago

Note

Sunny with a frenemy?

It Has To Be Laurie this is like really early in their friendship when they barely got along at all. really rough Tbh but i didnt feel like fixing it up so What Ever

[mild tummyache]

"I cannot believe I have to share a room with you."

"I can't believe I have to share a bed with you!"

"Don't get your hopes up, I'd rather sleep in the bathtub."

Laurie and Sunny had been trapped in many a confined space with each other, but a hotel room was a bit much even for them. Laurie in particular was not enthusiastic about the idea of sleeping in the same room as Sunny--he snored like a moose, he ran his mouth like his life depended on it, and he took forever in the shower, among other things. For the rest of the night, though, she was stuck with the little jackass, and he was stuck with her.

To his credit, Sunny managed to stay more or less out of Laurie's hair before bedtime, though his noisy snacking was hard to ignore. To her credit, she didn't give him too much grief for it, simply turning up the volume on the TV to mask the munching and crunching and staying on the other side of the room. Eventually, though, she snapped and asked him when the hell he was ever going to shut up, and he exclaimed that not even outer space would be quiet enough for her, and the two got into a good spat before Sunny finally stomped off in a huff to take a shower.

By the time Sunny finally emerged clean and soft from the well-steamed bathroom, Laurie was already dressed in her pajamas and impatiently waiting her turn to get ready for bed. She noticed as she passed by him that he seemed unusually subdued, trudging silently past her without even looking up, but she supposed he was just sulking. She felt a little guilty for snapping at him--he couldn't help being noisy when he ate, after all--but not guilty enough to apologize. The heat of the argument was still in the air, and neither of them were interested in talking it out just yet.

When Laurie returned from brushing her teeth, Sunny was, to her dismay, already curled up in the bed. He was at least on his own side, though, so she opted not to push it. She flicked off the light and climbed in on her side. She still wasn't thrilled about sharing, but as long as he stayed put, she was tired enough to not care, at least for now. Once he was soundly asleep, she knew the snoring would begin, and she could only hope she fell asleep first.

The snoring never came, though. What did come was a lot of fidgeting. Just when she thought he'd finally settled, he would begin tossing and turning again, a soft whine here and there as he struggled to find comfort. At first she tried to ignore it, but the rustling of the sheets and the shaking of the bed became too much, and finally she sat up in a fit of frustration, throwing the blankets off of them both.

"Sunny, go sleep on the floor," she snapped, pointing. "You're driving me nuts!" He stared up at her, wide-eyed, but her expression remained firm.

"Fine," he pouted, and he glumly dragged himself out of bed, took his pillow, and curled up in the corner of the room. Laurie watched, almost feeling sorry for him but not sorry enough to let him back in. She was stubborn as a mule, and getting her to go back on her word was no easy feat. Sunny was no better, and she was surprised he hadn't argued about leaving the bed. He'd looked even more tired than she felt, though, so she supposed he just didn't have the energy for another fight. Tired was an understatement, actually; he'd looked downright unwell. Laying in the still bed, Laurie wondered if that was why he'd been tossing and turning so much. He could certainly be a fidgety little thing when he was awake, but sleep normally came easily to him; she'd seen him fall asleep anywhere from sitting in the car to sprawled out on the stairs without any trouble.

It was around one in the morning when Laurie woke up again. As she glanced at the clock, she realized the room was oddly quiet; surely Sunny should have been snoring away by now. She listened closely, and her ears were met with a pained gurgle, followed by a barely-audible moan. That answered the question of how he was feeling. She sat up and peered over the side of the bed to see him curled up uncomfortably on the floor, arms wrapped around his belly, a pinched look on his not-quite-sleeping face. Now she felt sorry.

"Sunny?" She whispered at first, then more loudly: "Sunny."

"Mmh…" He looked groggily up at her, pitiful and pouty. "What?"

"Are you alright?"

"No. Leave me alone." He closed his eyes again, and she sighed.

"Sunny, why don't you come back up? I'll put up with the fidgeting." Sunny's eyes remained stubbornly closed for a moment, but then he looked back up at her, a hopeful, almost inquisitive look on his face. She nodded, and, after a moment's hesitation, he scrambled back into bed and snuggled up under the covers.

"Does your belly hurt?" He didn't answer. Laurie rolled her eyes. "Come on. What, did you eat too much crap earlier? You could take a Tums or something."

"I'm fine," he mumbled sleepily. She could see the gentle curve his normally-flat tummy pushing out under the blanket, confirming her suspicion that he'd eaten too much, and the thought of how taut and bloated his overtaxed stomach must have felt made her wince. She hesitated, then, feeling sympathetic, reached out and rested a hand on his belly. To her surprise, Sunny didn't recoil. He was pretending to be asleep now, and, with the comforting warmth of her hand against his aching tummy, it wasn't long before the sleep became real.

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #message #suggestion #xsunnyx #xlauriex

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ash5monster01 · 11 months ago

Text

Goes On Chapter One

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.6k

Prologue ←→ Two

Masterlist

Ridge Academy, NY

1/4/60

Coming back from break was always the worst. The good part was you knew you were already halfway there. The bad part was now it was time to get serious. No more silly Holidays or breaks. Now it was time for excessive studying, finals, and college applications. It meant being real for the next five months. The teachers knew this to which explained why Evelyn had a mountain of books to carry in her arms and enough homework to keep her up all night.

At least she had English. The one class she wouldn’t mind having an excessive amount of work. As long as she got to read and write it would be okay. A whole forty minutes to relax and enjoy the only lesson of the day that wouldn’t bore her entirely. Something to clear her mind. Or at least she thought.

“Isn’t he so cute, I told you” Evelyn heard Laurie whisper to Violet as she plopped down in her seat next to her. Laurie was the school gossip, most popular, most blonde, most perfect, and an in on every secret that flooded through the school. She had the power to be friends with anyone and for some reason she had chosen Evelyn and her friends.

Violet on the other hand was more outspoken. Gentle, kind, blue eyes as deep as the ocean and hair as dark as a raven. She had been Evelyn’s roommate the entirety of their time at the Academy and best friend in the world. So if Violet was part taking in Laurie’s gossip it only made sense Evelyn did too.

“Who’s cute?” Evelyn asked as she slid into her desk beside them and the two girls instantly shushed her, students turning, and giving the three confused looks.

“The new guy, he was in my math class” Violet whispered and Laurie nodded behind her, a grin etched across her face. New students meant fresh meat for Laurie. New gossip, new excitement, and possibly someone new to flirt with.

“Yeah he was in Latin with me first period. Real mysterious and quiet. It’s hot” Laurie spoke and Evelyn chuckled at her blonde friends antics. Only she could romanticize the idea of a new guy in Latin class with Mr. Miller who was bald and fat, and for some reason always smelled like moth balls.

“Well I wanna see the new guy” Evelyn pouted, now intrigued by the fact there was a new student randomly in the middle of the year and she not only hadn’t seen him yet but had been so busy with school she didn’t even hear about it.

“Don’t worry if you don’t have a class with him I heard he’s rooming with Nate” Violet said speaking of their male best friend. Nate hadn’t mentioned getting a new roommate but they also hadn’t really had the chance to see each other since they came back from the Holidays.

“Wait, quiet, there he is” Laurie hissed before Evelyn could yell about Nate not telling her. Evelyn nearly snapped her neck as she turned to the door where sure enough an unrecognizable boy walked through. His white button down was tucked into his required grey slacks, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up effortlessly. He was cute, and normally she wasn’t one to admit that so quickly.

“Wow” was all she could muster and the girls giggled at their normally not so shocked friend. Evelyn turned to see he had taken one of the open seats in the back, immediately dropping his head as if not to be seen.

“I wonder why he transferred?” Violet whispered back and Evelyn shrugged. Until now she hadn’t known anything of him and she hated that he actually was cute because now there was no way she could focus on class.

“Maybe his parents got a new job” she offered and the girls nodded as they accepted the answer and began to open their English books.

“Alright students today we’re going to be learning a little about Dr. J Evans Prichard” the room froze as a small scoff came from the back of the room, heads turning to spot the new kid.

“Is there an issue-” Mrs. Clark paused as her eyes scanned her papers for the new kids name. “Mr. Dalton?”

“No issue, just clearing my throat” Mrs. Clark rose her eyebrows, unconvinced with his excuse, but moved on nonetheless. Evelyn was surprised by such an outburst from the boy and grew even more curious about him. Suddenly his eyes locked on hers and she quickly turned her head away to avoid being caught staring.

“Well then, let’s open Chapter One of our books, Understanding Poetry” the class moved and did as told as Mrs. Clark got started with the lesson. Evelyn found it wasn’t only the boy that kept her distracted during the lesson but his reaction to the material as well. Why didn’t he like Prichard and how did he even know about him? She figured these were questions she may never get to learn the answers too.

Charlie had grown used to the staring. He figured he’d stick out like a sore thumb considering the fact most of the students were expecting the same old classmates from before. Add in the fact it was during the middle of the year. He thought he’d have fun admiring the girls and being around them considering he now went to a co-ed school but he still didn’t feel enough like himself to care. The Charlie that answered a phone call from God would be disappointed to see him now.

As Evelyn continued throughout her day she noticed the new kid ended up being in all the same classes with her. Guess it didn’t matter he was rooming with Nate because she couldn’t seem to get away from him after English class. With the shared amount of time together she learned he was quiet and mysterious just like Laurie had said, which perked her interest about him even more. So it was a total loss trying to pay attention in any of her classes, she was in another world, curious thoughts swirling her mind about him.

“Hey has anyone seen Nate?” Martin, Violets boyfriend, asked. They were sat in the students lounge, determined to get study group rolling so they didn’t have as much homework to do after dinner. Martin also needed all the help with classes that he could get. Martin wasn’t as smart as the rest of them but he was at least willing to work at it. He was determined and Evelyn figured that was exactly the reason Violet had fallen in love with him. Evelyn now realized that being stuck in her thoughts the rest of the day made her unaware of the fact she hadn’t seen her friend all day or at the very least talked to him.

“No not since lunch” Violet spoke, realizing their friend had been A-wall for a while.

“I’ll go find him” Evelyn popped up, curious herself as to why Nate hadn’t been around all day. She needed a distraction too, she couldn’t start the new semester with clouded judgement.

“Don’t get caught on the boys dorm floor!” Violet called after her, always worried about her careless friend, and Evelyn waved a hand back. Mostly unbothered considering Violet had Martin in their shared room almost every night.

“Nate, why are you hiding?” Evelyn shoved the familiar dorm door open to spot not only Nate at his desk doing homework but the new kid shirtless on the usually empty bed. She had already forgotten her friend had gained the new kid. What a waste of a distraction.

“Eve can you learn how to knock, what if we didn’t have pants on?” Evelyn rose her eyebrows to which the new boy snickered at the look on the girls face. He hadn’t meant to respond but seeing her expression made him laugh. She was cute he thought, someone he might’ve spent more time thinking about if his head wasn’t so crowded with grief.

“If you didn’t have pants on I’d probably be a little concerned as to what you two were doing and then I might’ve snuck a peek” Evelyn shot a wink towards the new boy, figuring if he was so quiet she could mess with him. Charlie was surprised by this response, not realizing the girl from most of his classes could be so outspoken.

“Evelyn could you stop embarrassing me for once, I meant if we were changing” he tried pushing her out the door and she giggled lightly, fighting back and forcing the door open.

“Oh lighten up Nate, it’s all in good fun. I just came to drag your ass to study group, Trig is killing me” she pouted at the boy, knowing he would cave. He always did. Nate held a soft spot for Evelyn and sometimes she abused her power, without even realizing she had it.

“Eve you’re gonna have to learn math at some point” Nate crossed his arms, hoping if he did homework in the dorm he could get his new roommate to open up a little. Martin was a cool guy but him and Nate were on different spectrums and if Martin wasn’t dating Violet he figured they’d never talk to each other.

“Yeah, but todays not that day. Let’s go” Evelyn shoved him towards the door and he sighed as she collected his books. Not willing to take no for an answer.

“Fine, you’re so annoying” Nate huffed as he went to grab his books from her before she messed his notes up. Now free of the books she turned to the new kid, ready to take her opportunity while she had it. The sooner her questions were answered the better off she’d be. No curiosities to keep her distracted.

“You too newbie, let’s move it” Evelyn collected the shirt she saw him wearing earlier from the ground and tossed it at him. He wore a surprised look but quickly collected himself.

“I think I’m okay sweetheart” he quipped and she rose her eyebrows, surprised to hear the confidence in his voice, but she didn’t falter as she held her ground.

“Save the pet names for Nate, we’re studying now” she told him, arms crossing over her chest. Charlie stared at her in shock for a moment and Nate sighed as he looked at Evelyn. The girl he had been in love with since he was thirteen. For a moment he realized having a room mate meant having someone new to steal her away.

“Man, she doesn’t take no for an answer. So save us the time and just come” Nate suggested a little defeated and Charlie looked to the girl, he saw how she held her shoulders high and waited for him to stand. She was brave.

Without answering Charlie stood and shrugged on the button up shirt he had planned on abandoning for the rest of the night. Evelyn grinned in victory as she watched his fingers glide up the buttons and hide away his chest. Evelyn tried her best not to seem too smug but it was hard not to when she had already convinced the new boy to tag along.

“I think you’re cool new kid” Evelyn said as he started to grab his own textbooks. Charlie gave her an amused look before shaking his head.

“It’s Charlie” he corrected her and she shrugged before turning towards the door and leading the pair of boys back to the study group.

“Found him and a straggler” Evelyn announced as she pushed the door open. The friend group turned to find the familiar faces of their friends was accompanied by a new one.

“Of course Evelyn would bully the new kid into spending time with us” Laurie said gesturing to him as they all took their seats at the table.

“I had to, Nate was talking about them not wearing pants together. It was my duty to save him” Charlie was surprised as she grabbed his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He had never met someone so unbothered by the world around her. Most girls he knew were uptight or dumb.

“She took that out of context, she just opened my dorm door. One of us could’ve been changing” Nate quickly defended himself and the group laughed.

“That won’t stop her Nate, she would’ve enjoyed the view” Violet said and Evelyn let out a proud hmph because that was exactly what she said.

“Well Nate, introduce us to your friend” Laurie leaned forward on the table, dropping the nail file she held in her hands. Evelyn was surprised by the jealousy the bubbled in her stomach as she spotted the way Laurie looked at him.

“This is my new roommate Charlie, he just transferred from Welton” surprised faces appeared as they heard this. Shock filling almost each and every one of the group.

“A Welton boy, guess it is true that they’re all cute” Laurie smirked and Charlie gave a surprised look that these girls were so free willed with their speech. He figured majority of them were shy but maybe this is what happened when you went to a co-ed school.

“How did a Welton boy end up here of all places?” Violet asked him, curious as to how you could go from one of the best schools to here.

“Yeah, I tried to get into Welton and they denied me. Weird that someone who actually could attend comes here?” Martin asked a bit surprised. He already struggled at Ridge, Welton took one look at his grades and said hell no.

“You guys know you’re a prep school too right?” Charlie asked and Evelyn laughed like he just told the best joke of the year.

“Yeah but not a good one, maybe a quarter of our graduates go to ivy leagues and since we’re a co-ed school we’re frowned upon. The Ridge Rejects” Evelyn bumped her shoulder with his, surprised he wasn’t aware of this. Then again why would someone from the big times bother to know anything about the left behind kids.

“Yeah, exactly. We’re the kids who were too smart to go to public school but not smart or rich enough to go places like Welton or Henley Hall” Violet explained and Charlie nodded as he learned this new information. No wonder he ended up here of all places.

“Well I’m here because I’m the king of the rejects. Welton booted me” Charlie spoke so nonchalantly but the rest of the group gasped.

“They kicked you out?” Martin eyed him, shock covering his features.

“How did you get kicked out?” Nate asked, new to this information as well. He had been dying to know since last night.

“I hit a kid, he deserved it, and I’d like to do it again. On top of that they wanted me to sign some bullshit contract and I wouldn’t so they shoved me out the doors” Charlie stated, flipping through his assignments, already having come to terms with the fact he was no longer apart of that school.

“That’s really bad ass new kid” Evelyn spoke, eyes glimmering with admiration, and Nate burned with jealousy the same way he had been since she shoved open their dorm door and winked at him.

“Thanks” Charlie spoke and Evelyn was surprised to see he was much more than they had thought.

“Well Charlie welcome to the school of Rejects, you’ll fit right in”

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 7 months ago

Text

The Runt - Billy the Kid

Warnings for this chapter: racism, Jesse being a prick, hints at hate criming, trauma response?

Chapter Fourteen

Laurie sat in the house quietly next to Billy, drawing in her sketchbook while she listened to Frank explain exactly what his plan was. Her long, red hair slightly fell in her eyes as she finished the details of Artax’s face, looking up as Frank continued yapping like those little dogs all the rich women had.

“The plan is for us to join forces and ride across the Pecos River and head on into Lincoln County,” Frank explained, “You all know anything about Lincoln County?” Everyone shook their heads instead of Laurie, who nodded, she knew very little of Lincoln County, but she still knew about it.

“What do you know about it then, Little Red?,” Frank questioned as he leaned over an empty chair, staring intently at the 13-year-old in front of him.

“Not much, my best friend used to live there, he said it was pretty wild which was why he moved,” Laurie explained quietly.

“Well, your friend was right, it was a wild place, and it still is,” Frank said, “The most important thing is there’s no real law in Lincoln County. They’ve got a fort and a handful of soldiers, but most of the law comes from the barrel of the gun.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in as the gang listened intently. “There’s a big player in Lincoln. His name’s Lawrence P. Murphy. He owns stores, he owns cattle, he supplies Fort Stanton and the reservation offices there with grain, cattle, horses, everything you guys need.”

Laurie listened carefully as she looked up at Billy who seemed to be listening just as hard as the other guys in the gang, she rested her head on his shoulder as Frank continued speaking.

“And, naturally, he wants to protect his operation,” Frank continued, “And that’s where we come in. His cattle regularly gets stolen, and he’s got criminal types moving in from Santa Fe and elsewhere tryin’ to muscle in on his other businesses. So, he needs his own people to discourage them, and he’s prepared to pay good money to get ‘em. I think he’ll even take the girl too, if he’s desperate enough.” Frank looked at Jesse. “What do you say?”

“Oh, I think we could probably help him out, right boys?,” Jesse asked as he looked back at the gang, who all murmured in agreement, some nodding their heads. Laurie shrugged, she wasn’t sure if she would be of use to protecting cattle.

She was a runt, of course.

And what kind of runt is capable of protecting cattle?

The young teenager sighed, taking a flask out of her satchel, it was filled to the brim with whiskey, and just as she was about to take a sip the flask was taken out of her hand by Billy. She looked up at him and he shook his head, he knew damn well how lightweight she was, and he also knew that she was far too young to even be thinking about alcohol.

“And, Billy… I need to know where you stand in all of this,” Frank addressed, causing Billy to look up from Laurie and back at the older man. Laurie did the same before her gaze went back to Billy, wondering what he was going to say about the offer, because wherever Billy goes, Laurie will go as well. “If you join us, I’ll guarantee Murphy’s gonna hire us. And I’ll tell you something else. We’ll make sure that you get the biggest slice of the cake when it comes time for remuneration, and I can also tell you that the little dog you got following around you is safe.”

“Just… wait a minute there, Frank,” Jesse interjected, Laurie could practically smell the jealousy in the blonde man’s tone, and she took that as her sign to tune out, block out the argument that was about to ensue. And she did just that, she opened her sketchbook again and began drawing. She had gotten pretty good at zoning out whenever people began to raise their voice.

Thanks a lot, Jesse.

Later that day, everyone was saddling up their horses and packing the mules, getting ready to move out. Artax nickered, pawing the ground slightly as Laurie placed the saddle on his back before tightening the girth and the cinch, patting the young stallion’s neck with a soft smile. The horse looked over as one of the gang members trotted into the camp with a kid in the saddle with him.

“Hey, guys! Came across this Mexican kid in town,” he called as everyone looked over, the kid was around Laurie’s age and he looked like he was scared shitless. “The kid said he’s looking for William Bonney.”

Billy looked at Laurie before handing her the reins of his horse and walking over, tipping his hat at the kid in the saddle.

“I’m WIlliam Bonney,” Billy said, “Who are you?”

“Guillermo,” the kid replied, Laurie cocked her head to the side, she wondered why the kid seemed petrified.

“Hello, Guillermo,” Billy greeted, keeping his tone friendly as he offered the child a smile. “Why are you looking for me?”

“I have a message for you… from Melquiades Segura.” It was after the kid said this did Laurie really start to pay attention, she loosely tied Artax and Billy’s horse to the pasture fence before walking over to where Billy stood so that she could get a better hear.

“Segura?,” Laurie questioned, her face creasing with concern for their old friend. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The kid took a deep breath as he looked down. “He told me that you and your friend might be in El Paso.”

“What’s his message?,” Billy questioned.

“They have arrested him unfairly and he’s in jail. He needs your help,” the kid explained, shifting uncomfortably on the mule he sat on.

“Why was he arrested?,” Laurie asked, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she exchanged looks with an equally as concerned Billy.

“For the killing of Don Ortiz,” Guillermo replied quietly, not looking at Laurie or Billy at all. “They are arguing to hang him in three days.”

Laurie’s heart dropped upon that last sentence, as she looked back up at Billy with a visibly panicked expression, the poor girl didn’t know how to process any of this information.

“Where is he?,” Billy asked.

“In Chihuahua, Mr. Bonney,” Guillermo answered.

“What’s he saying?,” one of the gang members, Ian asked.

“He’s saying that an old friend of Laurie and I is in jail in Chihuahua, and he needs our help,” Billy explained as he sighed, he knew he and Laurie had to help their friend. They couldn’t just let him hang for a murder he never committed.

“We’re setting out for Lincoln,” Jesse argued, he sounded like a stubborn bull. “It’s all been arranged.” Billy looked at Jesse before looking back at Guillermo before he then looked at Laurie.

“You can all go ahead, Laurie and I will catch up wit you guys later, this won’t take long,” Billy told Jesse before he walked over to where Laurie had tied his horse and Artax, untying both horses before handing Artax’s reins to Laurie.

“Do you really believe this kid?,” Jesse asked,, approaching the duo with his hands on his hips, he clearly didn’t believe that Guillermo was telling the truth. “He’s a Mexican. They’re all liars. All of them.”

Laurie stopped when she heard Jesse say that as she looked at him, “Shut the fuck up.” She snapped, her voice rising and her tone was clear. She didn’t like that way of thinking. Laurie never snapped at anybody, especially Jesse. And it was safe to say everyone at camp was taken off guard by the uncharacteristic actions coming off of Laurie.

Jesse looked at Laurie like she had just taken his gun. “You’re entitled to your own opinion, runt, but you’ll learn that you’re wrong when you grow up.”

“You know, I’ve heard you saying the same shit about us Irish,” Billy suddenly said, looking over at Jesse, who glared at Billy as well.

“The men who ran my father out of town, put him out of business, they were Irish,” Jesse argued, as if what had happened to his father justified his prejudice. “And I never held that against you.”

Billy didn’t say anything as he shook his head before going back to tending to his horse. Laurie has heard Jesse talk like that a lot when she was growing up after she took him in back at the old ranch, and it never failed to upset her, especially because Dale died because of people with that kind of mentality.

Every single night when Laurie was little, she’d wish upon every shooting star that the people in the world would stop being hateful towards people who are different, but those wishes are yet to come true.

Maybe they may never even come true.

Who fucking knows anymore, because according to people like Jesse, everyone is equal, but some people are more equal than others.

A/N:

I have nothing to say except stan Laurie

Tag:

@slutforsnow

#the runt #billy the kid gif #billy the kid hc #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #billy mccarty #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x oc #runt of the litter

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fandomnerd9602 · 1 year ago

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Stitched Apart

Allyson Nelson x Wick!Reader

Things had changed. The game had changed. When Corey stumbled to yours and Allyson's place after he had disappeared, he looked shocked, horrified, and yet free at the same time.

Corey stumbles out of your shower and you hand him a set of your clothes. The young mechanic's eyes seem far off and full of fear.

"Are people born bad or is it something that grows?" he whispers.

"I've seen a lot" you huff, "but I think it's influence not some ingrown evil nature."

"I-I didn't mean to kill that kid that day" Tears slip down his cheek.

"I know" you whisper, "Corey you're not a bad guy, life just dealt you a bad hand"

"What do you know about bad hands?!"

"Try this: my dad's a killer. Plain and simple. The underworld calls him Baba Yaga."

"Boogeyman?"

"He's sent to kill the Boogeyman" you mutter, "and now that same underworld looks to me"

"But you're just a bodyguard...aren't you?"

You silence speaks volumes to Corey.

"Oh shit. You're not a bodyguard."

"The only good things that happened to me was meeting Ally and meeting you" you give him a weak smile "don't tell her what i've told you"

"M-my lips are sealed" he makes a little gesture across his mouth to seal it.

You take the young man back to his house. Corey's mother didn't really like anyone in the town but she did like you. Something about you made her realize that you and Corey were kindred spirits.

"Where was my son?!" Corey's mother hollered at you in worry.

"With me and Ally" you answer back covering for Corey, "some bullies jumped him and...yeah...fought 'em off"

Corey's mother shakes her head and guides Corey back inside.

The rest of the day went pretty normal. You picked up Allison from the hospital, you could see a smug look on one of her co-worker's face as Allyson sadly got in your mustang.

"Bad day, babe?" you put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't get the promotion. Deb got it" she mutters, "I think she's sleeping with Dr. Mathias."

"She won't last long" you shrug, "c'mon let's get home and I'll make you a piping hot dinner"

"We're supposed to have dinner with my grandma" Allyson bites her lip at the thought of you cooking over the stove.

"I'll make more then. We'll take it over together" you smile as you drive off from the hospital.

Laurie welcomed you and Allyson into her house with open arms. Dinner went well and smooth. Although Laurie kept looking at you like she knew something was going on in your mind.

"What's egging you, kid?" the older Strode asks you as you put away the dishes.

"You see right through me, don't you?" you chuckle

"I know a killer when I see one" your blood runs cold. "I know the fear in a killer's eyes. The hate the rage."

You remain silent.

"I saw it the moment Allyson introduced you to me. I saw a wolf." she smiles, "but i also a wolf that wanted to become a lamb"

"Ally's the best part of me"

"Keep her safe." Laurie gives your hand a grandmotherly squeeze "why did you come to Haddonfield?"

"to kill the boogeyman"

Kill the boogeyman. What you didn't know was that Corey was bringing back the boogeyman. And the boogeyman had gained an apprentice.

You woke up the next day, the day before Halloween, with Allyson in your arms. Her hair obscuring your vision. The best and only way you want to wake up.

And then came the news report on your TV. Authorities reported the death of one Doctor Mathias and one nurse named Deb. The odd thing was that Deb's death was within the MO of one Michael Myers, Doctor Mathias on the other hand seemed like a copycat's.

"Baby pack your things" you grabbed a ready duffel bag of clothing.

"What's wrong? If it's Myers, I'm not afraid." Allyson states.

"I think...I think Myer's has an apprentice."

To Be Continued...

#halloween #halloween ends #blumhouse #horror movie #horror crossover #crossover #andi matichak #allyson strode #allyson nelson #john wick #assassin reader #the continental #wick reader #john wick x reader #michael myers #the shape #corey cunningham

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chaos-grimlin · 2 years ago

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Into:No one truly knows what happened that night in Woodsboro, California. All the public knows was that two teenage boys, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy. That the boys killed with no motive, that it was a case of crazy and peer pressure. Sidney Prescott, the "girlfriend" of Billy Loomis,Y/n L/n, the girl both boys were deeply obsessed with, and Gale weathers, a news reporter, where 3 of 5 witnesses that were willing to talk and tell their sides of the story to the public while Dewy Riley, the deputy sheriff of woodsboro, and tennager Randy Meeks refused to talk to law enforcements at the time. All the stories told to law enforcement seem to differ from person to person, but...in this tale, we will focus on Y/n, the obsessions, side of the story...

Marked (Poly!Billy loomis and Stu macher x reader)

Word count:921

Chapter 2 -keeping her is a bad idea

^^^Y/n P.O.V^^^

Casey had told me that the Baskin-Robbins in Woodsboro was amazing and that the workers were very nice.

Me and the group walked in and as soon as we did a sweet, fruity smell hit me like a brick to the face. My mouth watered slightly at the scent.

Soon we all had our ice creams and were all seated at a table. Me, Sidney, and Tatum all sat on one side of the table while the boys sat on the other side.

“So..Y/n..are you enjoying Woodsboro so far?” Billy asked as his eyes moved up to meet mine. Billy's voice was dark and deep. He pronounced my name with sharp precision, the words strung from his lips and swirled around my head.

“Um..Yeah other than the kids swarming me I like it” I said as I ate my ice cream.

“Ugh yeah that's so annoying! No wonder you always look so miserable!” Tatum exclaimed. Tatum talked like she knew what being swarmed was like.

I looked over at Tatum and looked at her closely.

Her shoulder length honey blond hair framed her face perfectly, her lips had a perfect fullness to them, and her golden green and brown eyes had a siren shape to them..she was pretty…very pretty..then it hit me. Tatum was a popular pretty girl..but she wasnt mean like the other pretty girls you would see around town or in every high school movie.

“Y/nnnnnnnn you okayyyyyyyyy?” Stu said in a sing-song voice, drawing me from my thoughts. “Oh! Um yeah!” I said with a chuckle. “You were totally just zoned out right now” He said with a snarky laugh before looking over at Billy, who just gave a small sided smirk.

As the night carried on, I became good friends with Stu, Randy, and Tatum. Sidney and Billy seemed to keep to each other or themselves when i'm around, yet Billy was always eyeing me, like he was observing my every move and if I messed up..it wouldn't be good.

Him doing that made me slightly paranoid but I kept pushing the feeling to the deepest darkest part of my overflowing mind.

^^^3rd person P.O.V^^^

Billy watched Y/n closely…he needed to make sure that her coming into the friend group wouldn't hurt his plans to get revenge on Sidney and her family.

Billy already knew that Randy wouldn't get in his way. Randy was always too high to do anything or at the video store working. Tatum never posed a threat, but Billy made a deal with Stu, his best friend and the person who would help him carry out his plans, that if Tatum ever got in the way, they would kill her.

Now… Billy had you to worry about. You seemed to be a smart, clever girl, with the ability to think quickly, you seemed like someone who, if attacked, you could put up a fight and have a good chance to win…you seemed like a final girl in his eyes. You remind him of Laurie Strode from Halloween. And that ment…you might mess up his plans…

^^^3 Weeks later^^^

^^^Y/n P.O.V^^^

I rushed down the street, feeling a smile form on my face. I used to hate going to school, but now, thanks to Tatum, Stu, Sidney, Randy, and Billy, I started to love going to school, just to see them and hang out with them.

“Hi guys!” I chirped out as I walked up to the group.

“Hey Final girl,” Billy said. Everyone else said hi and Tatum even hugged me, But, what loomed in my mind was how Billy started calling me, ‘Final girl’ a week after I met him. He didn't sound like he meant it in a nice way, but more of a way to… intimidate me, to warn me away even. His tone didn't sit right with me.

“Guys! It's the start of September and I was thinking since it's a month before Halloween…why don't we start a horror movie marathon?” Randy suggested as he chewed on something.

“Oh..i'd like that” Billy muttered. “Hell yeah! You can get the movie Randy..girls you down?” Stu asked as he pointed at Sidney, then Tatum.

“Yeah I'm down” “ Me too” Sidney and Tatum said. I stayed quiet, biting the inside of my cheek. “What about you Y/n?” Randy asked, moving closer to me.

“Oh I don't know..when will it be?” I asked. “We will start it tonight and continue it every other Monday till Halloween” Randy answered.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I'll see if I can come” I said as my eyes fluttered open only to meet Randys. I saw Randy's face break out into a smile at my answer that wasn't a direct no.

I already knew where Randy's house was due to me and the group having gone over there on the nights when Randy's parents were not around and sometimes… I'd sneak out of my house and just go to Randys, due to his house being close to mine. I'd rather say and get high with Randy rather than stay at home.

“Well you know where my house is so stop by if you can..this time doll face, don't sneak through my window” Randy said with a chuckle and with that… Everyone looked at me with a look of confusion contorted on their faces. “I wont” I muttered....

#poly billy and stu #billy loomis #stu macher #scream #cheating #poly stu and Billy #poly relationship #sadness #randy meeks x reader

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pillowsickfics · 2 years ago

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okay i know no one requested this but i wanted to get something up for one of the couples and cynthia and maverick are actually so fucking cute i was like grinning ear to ear while writing this! it’s a little short but i hope you enjoy anyways!!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Cynthia blearily opened her eyes against the deep sleep she was pulled out of. For a few moments, she didn’t know where she was. He groggily looked around and realized she was not in her own apartment, but in her boyfriend’s apartment. What time was it? She groaned lightly and rolled over to pick up her phone from the nightstand. 2:47. What on earth could have dragged her out of sleep? She knew she was always a heavy sleeper, it took a decent amount on commotion to make her stir in the middle of the night and—

A loud retch came from the restroom down the hall.

Cynthia blinked hard, trying to clear her vision and head as she processed the sound she heard.

“Maverick?” She called out, throwing back the covers and sliding out of bed.

Another heave was all she got in reply.

She still felt extremely out of it, but there was a slight sense of urgency now. She could have sworn Maverick was right next to her when she fell asleep, but at the moment her brain was hardly working and she just wanted to get to the bottom of this. The sound couldn’t be Maverick’s roommate Laurie, since he went to spend the night with his own boyfriend.

She made her way into the hall and squinted against the light that leaked from under the door.

“Maverick? Sweetheart, is that you?” She asked as she experimentally pushed open the door. There was no reply, but also no resistance, so she swung the door fully opened and let out a tiny gasp at the sight before her.

“Oh honey..” She cooed.

Maverick was kneeling in front of the toilet, one arm wrapped around his belly and the other gripping the rim of the toilet for dear life. His gray shirt had sweat stains under his arms and on his back, clearly indicating a fever of some kind. His face was about 5 shades too pale and his eyes were watery and bloodshot. Perhaps the worst of it though, was the way his stomach was audibly churning beneath his arm.

Maverick was panting over the basin of the toilet, letting out pitiful whimpers with every exhale. He seemed so out of it that he didn’t even notice Cynthia standing right next to him. Suddenly, another full body heave took over, lurching him forward with sheer force. A wave of watery puke splashed into the water below.

If Cynthia wasn’t awake before, she sure as hell was now. She kneeled beside her ailing boyfriend and began rubbing gentle circles into his broad shoulder blades. With her other hand, she grabbed some toilet paper, wiping the drool and vomit from his chin and then tossing it into the toilet. She flushed the mess away to spare both her and Maverick from having to look at it longer.

“Mav.. sweetheart.. you poor thing.. what happened? When did you start feeling sick? You should have woken me up..” She murmured, pressing a long kiss into the side of his sweaty hair. She peppered kisses along the nape of his neck as she continued with the circles along his back.

He took a shaky breathe and spat into the toilet. “I don’t.. I woke up and I felt sick.. I didn’t want to bother..” He said miserably.

She frowned and gave his forehead a gentle kiss. “You could never bother me with this..”

A burp made it’s way up, and he muffled it into his hand. He was grateful for the small break, but a gurgle in his belly told him he was far from done.

Cynthia was finally able to get a proper look at her boyfriends tummy, and she frowned at what she saw. While his belly was usually a bit squishy in general, it looked unnaturally distended over the waistband of his boxers. She gently placed her small hand on top of it and was surprised at how warm to the touch it was as well. She kneaded the skin beneath her hand gently, taking care not to agitate his stomach further.

He sighed softly in relief, and let himself relax for a moment, but all of a sudden his back straightened and he felt thick, sour saliva begin to pool in his mouth. His jaw tingled and felt heavy and he once again buried his head into the basin of the toilet.

This time around, he had hardly anything left in him to expel. His entire body convulsed with a retch that barely brought up a tiny stream of bile. He dry heaved for several more seconds, but to no avail. He was empty. Whether his body got the memo or not was apparently out of his control.

Cynthia pressed a kiss to his temple and got up to grab a few things. As she was leaving, Maverick gave her his signature “kicked puppy” eyes and Cyn felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

“I’ll come right back honey, I’m just gonna grab a few things.. you’re burning up.. and you’re dehydrated..” She explained, stealing another quick kiss before leaving down the hall. She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, a few fever reducers from the medicine cabinet. She also spent a little bit of extra time to brew some ginger tea, hoping it would soothe Maverick’s upset belly. When she finally returned, she couldn’t help but wince at what she saw.

Maverick had apparently found it too exhausting to stay sitting up, because he was fast asleep curled into a tight ball on the bathroom floor tile, looking impossibly small despite his large frame. Cynthia cooed sympathetically and set her things on the counter.

“Maverick,” She said, leaning down to shake him by the shoulder, “Wake up darling.. don’t fall asleep just yet..”

He groaned and rubbed at his face.

“Cyn.. I don’t feel good..” he whimpered, slowly sitting up with her steadying hand behind his back.

She nearly snorted at the sheer understatement.

“I know honey.. I’m so sorry.. But I have some things that will help.. do you think you can stomach some pills?” She asked, carding a hand through his sweaty brown hair.

He shrugged pitifully, and she figured it was close enough, so she placed the pills in one of his hands and the water bottle in the other. He choked it down and shut his eyes at the impending nausea. Cynthia rubbed his back through the whole cycle before he decided the medicine wasn’t going to come back up for the time being.

“Alright sweetheart.. how about we get you back to bed, okay? You can have some tea, and go right back to sleep..”

Maverick shook his head. “Might puke again..” As if to punctuate the statement, he let out an airy burp into his fist. Even if his stomach had settled for a bit, he knew it wouldn’t last too long.

“I’ll put a bin by our bed, okay? You’ll feel so much better once you’re laying down..” Cynthia felt a surge of affection for her boyfriend and she just stood up, pulling his head against her middle and stroked his hair gently. He was still too warm. She frowned and let her cold hand rest on his forehead, to which he sighed heavily and leaned into.

“Okay,” He said hesitantly. “Let’s go to bed..”

She smiled and offered a hand to help him up. He pulled himself up and swayed slightly before being caught under the arm by Cynthia, who nearly toppled over herself. He was much larger than her, so she struggled with the weight. Maverick, to his credit, did his best to keep most of his weight off of her as the pair staggered down the hallways and back to the comfort of the bedroom.

Maverick all but collapsed onto his side of the bed, pulling blankets and pillows around him and creating a kind of nest to envelope him. Even the short walk from the bathroom to the bed left him utterly spent, and his eyelids began to close involuntarily. He watched absentmindedly as Cynthia ran around the room, getting water and tea and a plastic bag-lined bucket for him, and a dopey smile spread across his face. She’s so pretty. She’s so caring. He was so lucky to have her.

After a few minutes, Cynthia finally finished setting up the room and slid under the covers herself. Immediately, Maverick turned towards her and buried his face in her tummy, whining quietly.

She smiled, mostly to herself, as she began to scratch up and down his back and massage his scalp is slow, soothing motions.

“Goodnight baby.. I love you..”

No words were needed on his end. Maverick kissed her tummy and squeezed his grip slightly, and Cynthia knew that he loved her too.

#my ocs <3 #cynthia hansen #maverick miller #sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #hurt/comfort #fluff #affectionate cuddling #he’s a big baby with her #she loves him so much too i’m screaming

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warlockisaslur · 5 months ago

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Emporium // a drabble

or: How Darcy Learned There's Even More Weirdness to Wanda's Family

Billy didn't get to go home often. Earth was just so far away from the Alliance, from where he was needed, that visits to his homeworld were agonizingly infrequent. Of course, the compromise he and Teddy had made stood fast -- once things were settled, once the hard work was done and the Alliance's governing bodies were self-sufficient without their symbols -- Earth would be home, again.

Still, now and then when the opportunity presented itself, when there was simply nothing pressing that needed doing, Billy would kiss his husband, promise Lauri-Ell he would come to no harm, and teleport himself across the vastness of space -- back, and back, home again, to the blood and souls that tethered him to the blue-green world of his birth. His ring and their bond could always get him back to Teddy if he was needed, after all… but as he'd been reminded so often since his marriage, a Terran's heart always calls him home.

Normally the visits were fairly mundane. Brunch with Kate or Cassie, catching-up time with Tommy or Viv or Luna (if she happened to be on Earth at the time), maybe dinner with his parents. Sometimes even clubbing with some of the young heroes from the old phone tree, Julie or Brandon or Karolina often bugged him to go dancing. But now and then, his shadow would darken the doorway of a certain shop in a certain town…

The Emporium is a staple in Lotkill, New York, and beloved by its patrons. It's not an uncommon sight to see the brilliant pinkish glow of Wanda's magic from the windows even when the shop is closed -- she lives there, after all -- but the eerie blue glow from behind the blinds is different, strange even for such a strange location. Darcy knows Wanda is busy with a Last Door case, probably won't be back for another day or two -- which is why she hurriedly opens the door and reaches for a tee-ball bat she'd stowed behind the curtains at the front of the shop, only to be pulled up short by a green blur that snatched it out of her grip.

Now, Darcy knew that sort of "draft" by now, Pietro had visited enough times for her to get familiar with speedster backdraft, but this had a different quality. Less refined, more chaotic. About as chaotic as the situation in the shop itself.

Every shelf was bare, and all the contents were either in piles on the floor or the various surfaces, or floating in that eerie blue glow all around the room. And in the middle of the room seated cross-legged -- well, on nothing, really -- was a kid who couldn't be any older than her, eyes and hands gleaming with that same eerie light, while a green blur zipped this way and that throughout the space.

"Oh -- hey. You're Darcy, right?" The books suddenly shelved themselves, seemingly finding their proper places amid the stacks, the magical reagents, concoctions and other trinkets finding places in among the books.

"You'relate-moveityou'reinmypath--" came a voice that started at her left elbow and moved to her right, before another boy -- damn near identical to the first, except this one had white hair and green eyes that were so like Wanda's it was a little jarring -- paused, grinned, and then disappeared again. Darcy had to keep dodging as the blur flitted here and there, so she ended up sitting on top of the counter.

"Okay -- am I going nuts or did Wanda and Pete… get replaced by a couple'a kids?"

The speedster stopped, laughing, and the other one laughed, too, and it was really weird how alike they sounded like that. Spooky.

"Wanda asked me to come by and do something with the inventory system here. No offense, but it takes a magical eye to make sure all this stuff is categorized right -- you can't just stick any old book next to another, they might talk." The one with black hair, the one with the magic in his eyes, unfolded his legs and stood, brushing down his clothing before reaching out to offer her a hand to shake. "I'm sure she's told you about us -- I'm Billy. The blur is Tommy." On cue, the aforementioned blur ceased movement, perched in one of the little cafe chairs.

"… OH. Wait -- seriously? Those pictures she has must be old."

The black-haired one -- Billy -- chuckled again, straightening a potted plant which had taken new residence at the top of a shelf. "Yeah, we really should get her some newer ones. Anyway --" He looked around, hands on his hips. "I think we're good here. Tommy wrote up a new inventory system for you --"

"Well, we worked on it together. Vocal algorithmic searching. Just… ask it for something, and it'll tell you where it is in the store. Billy wanted to use a spell --"

"But if the shop gets destroyed again I'd have to come back to re-do it. So the spell's integrated into the program's code. So as long as the tablet's safe --"

"-- andyoubetterkeepitsafe!"

"-- then you'll always know right where everything is."

"… you two are weirder than your mom and uncle, you know that?"

Tommy grinned. "You aren't the first to say that. Billy's the weirder one though -- you know he married an alien??"

"I'm telling Teddy you said that."

#drabble #[ manda writes things ]

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joandfriedrich · 2 years ago

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Hi! If you’re feeling up for it could you maybe write a snippet of Laurie having spicy dreams about Amy before he realized what he felt (when he was in Europe of course) Haven’t gotten it out of my head since that one ask lol

This is a canon-verse fic, and I hope this will do, I did it in one shot pretty much.

Laurie sat at his desk, utterly frustrated, confused and ashamed. He tried his best to make something that would make Jo love him, a piece of music that would encapsulate all that he felt for her, and yet, whenever he tried, all he felt was frustrated, incomplete and sad. Taking a moment away from the desk to the balcony to breathe the warm and light air, he could hear music in the distance.

Chopin: Raindrop Prelude.

It was the same piece that he and Amy danced to at the ball in France, and suddenly, he recalled the scent of flowers that she wore, how close she was to him, her smile made him feel warm and her voice soothed something inside him that Jo never could. Music flowed freely in his mind when he thought of Amy, and he felt utterly ashamed to have done so. How could he claim to love one sister while dreaming of the other?

Shaking his head, he returned to his room and had decided to call it a night. Sleep at first alluded him, tossing and turning, his mind going back to Amy, back to that ball. He held her so close that he felt her warmth radiating off of her, the flowers by her neckline filling his nose. The candlelight had made her golden hair look like a halo, unbearably soft and curls tempting to caress. It was remarkable o him that this was no longer the same little girl he knew so long ago, but a young woman of wonderous grace and magnificent beauty, worthy enough to be the muse of any artist.

He noticed for the first time the shape of her lips, full and romantic, begging to be kissed and kissed again and again. What if he had kissed her? Would her lips be as soft as rose petals and taste as sweet as honey? What if her hands buried themselves in his hair, pulling him closer? His lips brushing along her lips to her rosy cheeks, down her elegant and white neck, and before he could stop himself, he kissed the lovely white breasts that were adorned in flowers.

His hands sought the laces in the back of her dress, kissing her lips again as her sweet and gentle hands worked to remove his jacket. And then...

He woke up.

Laurie laid there for a moment, trying to clear his head and understand what had just happened. Then shame and shock over came him; how could he have made a melodramatic and what was supposed to be a heartfelt hurt expression of love for Jo, but dream of Amy like this? Thank goodness he was far away from both of them, so he would not have to face the shame of seeing other of them and trying to pretend this hadn't happened. He put himself in a tub of cold water and then dressed to walk around, try to figure out why on earth he could have passionate dreams and loving thoughts of Amy, but never once have had a thought or dream of the kind of Jo.

Why on earth could he feel this way?

#answered asks #little women #theodore laurence #amy march #amy x laurie #amy and laurie #fanfiction

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jurassicsickfics · 1 year ago

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5, F, and 😣

I can’t decide on the sickie/caretaker soooo author’s choice! (I love your writing btw :D)

I’m thinking maybe Sickie ate something that upset their stomach before having to go to a college lecture. They don’t think much of it; some gurgles here and there, but nothing too noticeable… until they have to start muffling nauseous burps, which draws the attention of Caretaker and a few other students. Comfort ensues🥰

Sure! Hope you enjoy!

Quick disclaimer that I know a few of these characters died before college but we're just gonna pretend they didn't for this fic. Lol.

Lynda knew good and well that she shouldn't have eaten those eggs for breakfast this morning. Without fail, eggs always made her sick to her stomach, and yet, because she was in a rush and they were the first thing she could grab out of the fridge, she ate them anyway. She had barely even arrived at campus before her belly was feeling bloated and bubbly. She didn't think much of it, in fact, being the preppy cheerleader that she was, her biggest concern was how she was going to keep from burping or farting during class. Little did she know, she'd soon be longing for the days of simple embarrassing gas.

As Lynda made her way to her usual spot in class, her boyfriend, Bob, caught her attention.

"Mornin' babe." She cood, giving Bob a kiss on the cheek. He smirked and said, "There's my darling baby." The two giggled in that silly was that young lovers do as they sat in side-by-side desks. The two talked, waiting for their professor to make an appearance, (she was always late), and, suddenly, Lynda's stomach contributed a loud gurgle to the conversation. Bob stopped mid sentence. "Was that your stomach??" He asked. Lynda's cheeks lit up in an embarrassed blush. "Y-yeah, it was..." she answered sheepishly.

Bob gave the blond a concerned look. "You feel ok? Your stomach isn't usually that vocal."

Lynda shrugged. "Yeah. I'm ok. I just...ate eggs this morning, that's all."

Bob sighed deeply. "Lyn, you know eggs make you sick. Why'd you do that?"

Lynda gave an embarrassed shrug. "I dunno...I'm an idiot I guess. But...it'll be fine, I'm sure..."

Laurie and Annie had come sprinting in seconds before they would've been considered late. They sat in the desks near Lynda and Bob, and the 4 young adults greeted each other quietly as the lecture began.

They were only 25 minutes into the excruciatingly boring lecture when Bob began to notice Lynda squirming uncomfortably in her seat. She rubbed her belly when she thought no one was looking, and occasionally burping as quietly as possible into her fist. Laurie, who was sitting next to her on the other side, mouthed, "you ok?", as she noticed too.

Lynda lied with a nod of her head, and tried to take a deep breath. She could barely even get the air in, though, because her belly felt so ridiculously full. She'd never felt so bloated in her life.

Within another few minutes, she was ready to throw in the towel on touching it out. She was so nauseous she thought for sure she was going to throw up. She didn't even mind the thought, actually. In fact, a good puke sounded like it'd make her feel better right about now. Now to work up the courage to tell Bob she wasn't feeling well.

She nudged his leg with her foot, and the curly haired boy turned to her. He gave her a look that said, "What is it?" Lynda scooted closer and whispered in his ear, "My stomach hurts...I need a belly rub...please..."

Bob, being the sweet and caring guy he was, was quick to oblige. He scooted as close to Lynda as he could, now more thankful than ever that the classroom's desks were so close together, and began to massage circles into her stomach. The cheerleader gave a soft, pained moan and buried her face in her boyfriend's shoulder, burping into his shirt.

This was a red flag for Bob; Lynda never allowed herself to burp out loud like that, unless she felt terrible.

As Lynda cuddled up to Bob, she suddenly felt Laurie's hand patting her back. "I told you not to eat eggs anymore..." Laurie murmured. Lynda's eyes widened and she turned around to look at Laurie. "How...how'd you know?" Laurie shrugged with a sympathetic smile. "Well, eggs are about the only thing that makes you sick like this, so..." she replied in a whisper. Lynda nodded in agreement; Laurie certainly had a point.

It was then that Annie noticed the commotion. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Lyn's got an upset stomach. " Came Bob's hushed reply. Annie gave a sympathetic click of her tongue and began to run her fingers through Lynda's silky, blonde hair.

Between burping and breathing through cramps, a thought occurred to Lynda.

"Well...obviously feeling sick in class isn't ideal...but being pampered by my awesome friends and boyfriend certainly does help..."

#sicknario #sickfic #upset stomach #stomach ache #belly ache #annie brackett #lynda van der klok #bob simms #laurie strode #halloween 1978

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bagesims · 1 year ago

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Does the voice in my head make me a monster? Everyone says it's wrong, that I murder people…. Why don't they understand that I'm trying to save them? Instead they try to lock me up, they consider me a threat. My beloved, my Wife repeats that I should go to a psychologist. For what? He is one of them, they are all the same. Or they will declare me insane and lock me in a room without handles. Today the police were at my house. They asked a lot of questions. I feel they didn't believe me. I was seen with Nancy just before she "disappeared". Ah, if only I could prove that she is all right... She is one of my Angels that I want to protect so much. They can't be spoiled, all three are special. I believe they will be the greatest moms to their children in the future. Not what those colorful as abstract paintings bitches. It disgusts me to be the child of exactly such a one myself. My mother is a popular singer. She wears colorful hair, tattoos and has undergone a lot of plastic surgery, which is the most disgusting. Like the worst coward, she abandoned me and leaved in the care of her cousin. This one, in addition, had a daughter who despised me all my life. I always knew I didn't fit in there. I was the fifth wheel although Laurie and Blake tried not to show it. I knew that my presence disrupted their harmony. Many times I reflected on what it would have been like if I had never been born. Everyone would have lived the way they did before I came along. Or what would it have been like if I had suddenly died? Would anyone have come to my funeral? Would anyone shed even a single tear? But who would care about losing an already unnecessary thing? Many times I wanted to end myself, go deep into the forest and stay there forever. And so no one would look for me. And then I met Sheila. My sweet little Sheila, with whom I would soon have a child. She is my ray of hope. A light in a sea of hopelessness that I wanted to follow. This is the person who taught me to love and showed me that I deserve love too. It was with her that I found the meaning of my existence.

#cameron williams #sims3 #s3 #ts3 #the sims #the sims 3 #ts3 screenshots #ts3 gameplay #sims

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hellsitesonlybookclub · 2 years ago

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Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Chapter 46

XLVI.

UNDER THE UMBRELLA.

While Laurie and Amy were taking conjugal strolls over velvet carpets, as they set their house in order, and planned a blissful future, Mr. Bhaer and Jo were enjoying promenades of a different sort, along muddy roads and sodden fields.

"I always do take a walk toward evening, and I don't know why I should give it up, just because I often happen to meet the Professor on his way out," said Jo to herself, after two or three encounters; for, though there were two paths to Meg's, whichever one she took she was sure to meet him, either going or returning. He was always walking rapidly, and never seemed to see her till quite close, when he would look as if his short-sighted eyes had failed to recognize the approaching lady till that moment. Then, if she was going to Meg's, he always had something for the babies; if her face was turned homeward, he had merely strolled down to see the river, and was just about returning, unless they were tired of his frequent calls.

Under the circumstances, what could Jo do but greet him civilly, and invite him in? If she was tired of his visits, she concealed her weariness with perfect skill, and took care that there should be 559 coffee for supper, "as Friedrich—I mean Mr. Bhaer—doesn't like tea."

By the second week, every one knew perfectly well what was going on, yet every one tried to look as if they were stone-blind to the changes in Jo's face. They never asked why she sang about her work, did up her hair three times a day, and got so blooming with her evening exercise; and no one seemed to have the slightest suspicion that Professor Bhaer, while talking philosophy with the father, was giving the daughter lessons in love.

Jo couldn't even lose her heart in a decorous manner, but sternly tried to quench her feelings; and, failing to do so, led a somewhat agitated life. She was mortally afraid of being laughed at for surrendering, after her many and vehement declarations of independence. Laurie was her especial dread; but, thanks to the new manager, he behaved with praiseworthy propriety, never called Mr. Bhaer "a capital old fellow" in public, never alluded, in the remotest manner, to Jo's improved appearance, or expressed the least surprise at seeing the Professor's hat on the Marches' hall-table nearly every evening. But he exulted in private and longed for the time to come when he could give Jo a piece of plate, with a bear and a ragged staff on it as an appropriate coat-of-arms.

For a fortnight, the Professor came and went with lover-like regularity; then he stayed away for three whole days, and made no sign,—a proceeding which caused everybody to look sober, and Jo to become pensive, at first, and then—alas for romance!—very cross.

"Disgusted, I dare say, and gone home as suddenly as he came. It's nothing to me, of course; but I should think he would have come and bid us good-by, like a gentleman," she said to herself, with a despairing look at the gate, as she put on her things for the customary walk, one dull afternoon.

"You'd better take the little umbrella, dear; it looks like rain," said her mother, observing that she had on her new bonnet, but not alluding to the fact.

"Yes, Marmee; do you want anything in town? I've got to run in and get some paper," returned Jo, pulling out the bow under her chin before the glass as an excuse for not looking at her mother.

560 "Yes; I want some twilled silesia, a paper of number nine needles, and two yards of narrow lavender ribbon. Have you got your thick boots on, and something warm under your cloak?"

"I believe so," answered Jo absently.

"If you happen to meet Mr. Bhaer, bring him home to tea. I quite long to see the dear man," added Mrs. March.

Jo heard that, but made no answer, except to kiss her mother, and walk rapidly away, thinking with a glow of gratitude, in spite of her heartache,—

"How good she is to me! What do girls do who haven't any mothers to help them through their troubles?"

The dry-goods stores were not down among the counting-houses, banks, and wholesale warerooms, where gentlemen most do congregate; but Jo found herself in that part of the city before she did a single errand, loitering along as if waiting for some one, examining engineering instruments in one window and samples of wool in another with most unfeminine interest; tumbling over barrels, being half-smothered by descending bales, and hustled unceremoniously by busy men who looked as if they wondered "how the deuce she got there." A drop of rain on her cheek recalled her thoughts from baffled hopes to ruined ribbons; for the drops continued to fall, and, being a woman as well as a lover, she felt that, though it was too late to save her heart, she might her bonnet. Now she remembered the little umbrella, which she had forgotten to take in her hurry to be off; but regret was unavailing, and nothing could be done but borrow one or submit to a drenching. She looked up at the lowering sky, down at the crimson bow already flecked with black, forward along the muddy street, then one long, lingering look behind, at a certain grimy warehouse, with "Hoffmann, Swartz, & Co." over the door, and said to herself, with a sternly reproachful air,—

"It serves me right! What business had I to put on all my best things and come philandering down here, hoping to see the Professor? Jo, I'm ashamed of you! No, you shall not go there to borrow an umbrella, or find out where he is, from his friends. You shall trudge away, and do your errands in the rain; and if you catch your death and ruin your bonnet, it's no more than you deserve. Now then!"

561 With that she rushed across the street so impetuously that she narrowly escaped annihilation from a passing truck, and precipitated herself into the arms of a stately old gentleman, who said, "I beg pardon, ma'am," and looked mortally offended. Somewhat daunted, Jo righted herself, spread her handkerchief over the devoted ribbons, and, putting temptation behind her, hurried on, with increasing dampness about the ankles, and much clashing of umbrellas overhead. The fact that a somewhat dilapidated blue one remained stationary above the unprotected bonnet, attracted her attention; and, looking up, she saw Mr. Bhaer looking down.

"I feel to know the strong-minded lady who goes so bravely under many horse-noses, and so fast through much mud. What do you down here, my friend?"

"I'm shopping."

562 Mr. Bhaer smiled, as he glanced from the pickle-factory on one side, to the wholesale hide and leather concern on the other; but he only said politely,—

"You haf no umbrella. May I go also, and take for you the bundles?"

"Yes, thank you."

Jo's cheeks were as red as her ribbon, and she wondered what he thought of her; but she didn't care, for in a minute she found herself walking away arm-in-arm with her Professor, feeling as if the sun had suddenly burst out with uncommon brilliancy, that the world was all right again, and that one thoroughly happy woman was paddling through the wet that day.

"We thought you had gone," said Jo hastily, for she knew he was looking at her. Her bonnet wasn't big enough to hide her face, and she feared he might think the joy it betrayed unmaidenly.

"Did you believe that I should go with no farewell to those who haf been so heavenly kind to me?" he asked so reproachfully that she felt as if she had insulted him by the suggestion, and answered heartily,—

"No, I didn't; I knew you were busy about your own affairs, but we rather missed you,—father and mother especially."

"And you?"

"I'm always glad to see you, sir."

In her anxiety to keep her voice quite calm, Jo made it rather cool, and the frosty little monosyllable at the end seemed to chill the Professor, for his smile vanished, as he said gravely,—

"I thank you, and come one time more before I go."

"You are going, then?"

"I haf no longer any business here; it is done."

"Successfully, I hope?" said Jo, for the bitterness of disappointment was in that short reply of his.

"I ought to think so, for I haf a way opened to me by which I can make my bread and gif my Jünglings much help."

"Tell me, please! I like to know all about the—the boys," said Jo eagerly.

"That is so kind, I gladly tell you. My friends find for me a place 563 in a college, where I teach as at home, and earn enough to make the way smooth for Franz and Emil. For this I should be grateful, should I not?"

"Indeed you should. How splendid it will be to have you doing what you like, and be able to see you often, and the boys!" cried Jo, clinging to the lads as an excuse for the satisfaction she could not help betraying.

"Ah! but we shall not meet often, I fear; this place is at the West."

"So far away!" and Jo left her skirts to their fate, as if it didn't matter now what became of her clothes or herself.

Mr. Bhaer could read several languages, but he had not learned to read women yet. He flattered himself that he knew Jo pretty well, and was, therefore, much amazed by the contradictions of voice, face, and manner, which she showed him in rapid succession that day, for she was in half a dozen different moods in the course of half an hour. When she met him she looked surprised, though it was impossible to help suspecting that she had come for that express purpose. When he offered her his arm, she took it with a look that filled him with delight; but when he asked if she missed him, she gave such a chilly, formal reply that despair fell upon him. On learning his good fortune she almost clapped her hands: was the joy all for the boys? Then, on hearing his destination, she said, "So far away!" in a tone of despair that lifted him on to a pinnacle of hope; but the next minute she tumbled him down again by observing, like one entirely absorbed in the matter,—

"Here's the place for my errands; will you come in? It won't take long."

Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities, and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatness and despatch with which she would accomplish the business. But, owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss; she upset the tray of needles, forgot the silesia was to be "twilled" till it was cut off, gave the wrong change, and covered herself with confusion by asking for lavender ribbon at the calico counter. Mr. Bhaer stood by, watching her blush and blunder; and, as he watched, his own bewilderment 564 seemed to subside, for he was beginning to see that on some occasions women, like dreams, go by contraries.

When they came out, he put the parcel under his arm with a more cheerful aspect, and splashed through the puddles as if he rather enjoyed it, on the whole.

"Should we not do a little what you call shopping for the babies, and haf a farewell feast to-night if I go for my last call at your so pleasant home?" he asked, stopping before a window full of fruit and flowers.

"What will we buy?" said Jo, ignoring the latter part of his speech, and sniffing the mingled odors with an affectation of delight as they went in.

"May they haf oranges and figs?" asked Mr. Bhaer, with a paternal air.

"They eat them when they can get them."

"Do you care for nuts?"

"Like a squirrel."

"Hamburg grapes; yes, we shall surely drink to the Fatherland in those?"

Jo frowned upon that piece of extravagance, and asked why he didn't buy a frail of dates, a cask of raisins, and a bag of almonds, and done with it? Whereat Mr. Bhaer confiscated her purse, produced his own, and finished the marketing by buying several pounds of grapes, a pot of rosy daisies, and a pretty jar of honey, to be regarded in the light of a demijohn. Then, distorting his pockets with the knobby bundles, and giving her the flowers to hold, he put up the old umbrella, and they travelled on again.

"Miss Marsch, I haf a great favor to ask of you," began the Professor, after a moist promenade of half a block.

"Yes, sir;" and Jo's heart began to beat so hard she was afraid he would hear it.

"I am bold to say it in spite of the rain, because so short a time remains to me."

"Yes, sir;" and Jo nearly crushed the small flower-pot with the sudden squeeze she gave it.

"I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, and I am too stupid to go alone. Will you kindly gif me a word of taste and help?"

565 "Yes, sir;" and Jo felt as calm and cool, all of a sudden, as if she had stepped into a refrigerator.

"Perhaps also a shawl for Tina's mother, she is so poor and sick, and the husband is such a care. Yes, yes, a thick, warm shawl would be a friendly thing to take the little mother."

"I'll do it with pleasure, Mr. Bhaer. I'm going very fast and he's getting dearer every minute," added Jo to herself; then, with a mental shake, she entered into the business with an energy which was pleasant to behold.

Mr. Bhaer left it all to her, so she chose a pretty gown for Tina, and then ordered out the shawls. The clerk, being a married man, condescended to take an interest in the couple, who appeared to be shopping for their family.

"Your lady may prefer this; it's a superior article, a most desirable color, quite chaste and genteel," he said, shaking out a comfortable gray shawl, and throwing it over Jo's shoulders.

"Does this suit you, Mr. Bhaer?" she asked, turning her back 566 to him, and feeling deeply grateful for the chance of hiding her face.

"Excellently well; we will haf it," answered the Professor, smiling to himself as he paid for it, while Jo continued to rummage the counters like a confirmed bargain-hunter.

"Now shall we go home?" he asked, as if the words were very pleasant to him.

"Yes; it's late, and I'm so tired." Jo's voice was more pathetic than she knew; for now the sun seemed to have gone in as suddenly as it came out, the world grew muddy and miserable again, and for the first time she discovered that her feet were cold, her head ached, and that her heart was colder than the former, fuller of pain than the latter. Mr. Bhaer was going away; he only cared for her as a friend; it was all a mistake, and the sooner it was over the better. With this idea in her head, she hailed an approaching omnibus with such a hasty gesture that the daisies flew out of the pot and were badly damaged.

"This is not our omniboos," said the Professor, waving the loaded vehicle away, and stopping to pick up the poor little flowers.

"I beg your pardon, I didn't see the name distinctly. Never mind, I can walk. I'm used to plodding in the mud," returned Jo, winking hard, because she would have died rather than openly wipe her eyes.

Mr. Bhaer saw the drops on her cheeks, though she turned her head away; the sight seemed to touch him very much, for, suddenly stooping down, he asked in a tone that meant a great deal,—

"Heart's dearest, why do you cry?"

Now, if Jo had not been new to this sort of thing she would have said she wasn't crying, had a cold in her head, or told any other feminine fib proper to the occasion; instead of which that undignified creature answered, with an irrepressible sob,—

"Because you are going away."

"Ach, mein Gott, that is so good!" cried Mr. Bhaer, managing to clasp his hands in spite of the umbrella and the bundles. "Jo, I haf nothing but much love to gif you; I came to see if you could care for it, and I waited to be sure that I was something more than a 567 friend. Am I? Can you make a little place in your heart for old Fritz?" he added, all in one breath.

"Oh, yes!" said Jo; and he was quite satisfied, for she folded both hands over his arm, and looked up at him with an expression that plainly showed how happy she would be to walk through life beside him, even though she had no better shelter than the old umbrella, if he carried it.

It was certainly proposing under difficulties, for, even if he had desired to do so, Mr. Bhaer could not go down upon his knees, on account of the mud; neither could he offer Jo his hand, except figuratively, for both were full; much less could he indulge in tender demonstrations in the open street, though he was near it: so the only way in which he could express his rapture was to look at her, with an expression which glorified his face to such a degree that there actually seemed to be little rainbows in the drops that sparkled on his beard. If he had not loved Jo very much, I don't think he could have done it then, for she looked far from lovely, with her skirts in a deplorable state, her rubber boots splashed to the ankle, and her bonnet a ruin. Fortunately, Mr. Bhaer considered her the most beautiful woman living, and she found him more "Jove-like" than ever, though his hat-brim was quite limp with the little rills trickling thence upon his shoulders (for he held the umbrella all over Jo), and every finger of his gloves needed mending.

Passers-by probably thought them a pair of harmless lunatics, for they entirely forgot to hail a 'bus, and strolled leisurely along, oblivious of deepening dusk and fog. Little they cared what anybody thought, for they were enjoying the happy hour that seldom comes but once in any life, the magical moment which bestows youth on the old, beauty on the plain, wealth on the poor, and gives human hearts a foretaste of heaven. The Professor looked as if he had conquered a kingdom, and the world had nothing more to offer him in the way of bliss; while Jo trudged beside him, feeling as if her place had always been there, and wondering how she ever could have chosen any other lot. Of course, she was the first to speak—intelligibly, I mean, for the emotional remarks which followed her impetuous "Oh, yes!" were not of a coherent or reportable character.

568 "Friedrich, why didn't you—"

"Ah, heaven, she gifs me the name that no one speaks since Minna died!" cried the Professor, pausing in a puddle to regard her with grateful delight.

"I always call you so to myself—I forgot; but I won't, unless you like it."

"Like it? it is more sweet to me than I can tell. Say 'thou,' also, and I shall say your language is almost as beautiful as mine."

"Isn't 'thou' a little sentimental?" asked Jo, privately thinking it a lovely monosyllable.

"Sentimental? Yes. Thank Gott, we Germans believe in sentiment, and keep ourselves young mit it. Your English 'you' is so cold, say 'thou,' heart's dearest, it means so much to me," pleaded Mr. Bhaer, more like a romantic student than a grave professor.

"Well, then, why didn't thou tell me all this sooner?" asked Jo bashfully.

"Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladly will, because thou must take care of it hereafter. See, then, my Jo,—ah, the dear, funny little name!—I had a wish to tell something the day I said good-by, in New York; but I thought the handsome friend was betrothed to thee, and so I spoke not. Wouldst thou have said 'Yes,' then, if I had spoken?"

"I don't know; I'm afraid not, for I didn't have any heart just then."

"Prut! that I do not believe. It was asleep till the fairy prince came through the wood, and waked it up. Ah, well, 'Die erste Liebe ist die beste;' but that I should not expect."

"Yes, the first love is the best; so be contented, for I never had another. Teddy was only a boy, and soon got over his little fancy," said Jo, anxious to correct the Professor's mistake.

"Good! then I shall rest happy, and be sure that thou givest me all. I haf waited so long, I am grown selfish, as thou wilt find, Professorin."

"I like that," cried Jo, delighted with her new name. "Now tell me what brought you, at last, just when I most wanted you?"

"This;" and Mr. Bhaer took a little worn paper out of his waistcoat-pocket.

569 Jo unfolded it, and looked much abashed, for it was one of her own contributions to a paper that paid for poetry, which accounted for her sending it an occasional attempt.

"How could that bring you?" she asked, wondering what he meant.

"I found it by chance; I knew it by the names and the initials, and in it there was one little verse that seemed to call me. Read and find him; I will see that you go not in the wet."

Jo obeyed, and hastily skimmed through the lines which she had christened—

"IN THE GARRET.

"Four little chests all in a row,

Dim with dust, and worn by time,

All fashioned and filled, long ago,

By children now in their prime.

Four little keys hung side by side,

With faded ribbons, brave and gay

When fastened there, with childish pride,

Long ago, on a rainy day.

Four little names, one on each lid,

Carved out by a boyish hand,

And underneath there lieth hid

Histories of the happy band

Once playing here, and pausing oft

To hear the sweet refrain,

That came and went on the roof aloft,

In the falling summer rain.

"'Meg' on the first lid, smooth and fair.

I look in with loving eyes,

For folded here, with well-known care,

A goodly gathering lies,

The record of a peaceful life,—

Gifts to gentle child and girl,

A bridal gown, lines to a wife,

A tiny shoe, a baby curl.

No toys in this first chest remain,

For all are carried away,

In their old age, to join again

In another small Meg's play.

570 Ah, happy mother! well I know

You hear, like a sweet refrain,

Lullabies ever soft and low

In the falling summer rain.

"'Jo' on the next lid, scratched and worn,

And within a motley store

Of headless dolls, of school-books torn,

Birds and beasts that speak no more;

Spoils brought home from the fairy ground

Only trod by youthful feet,

Dreams of a future never found,

Memories of a past still sweet;

Half-writ poems, stories wild,

April letters, warm and cold,

Diaries of a wilful child,

Hints of a woman early old;

A woman in a lonely home,

Hearing, like a sad refrain,—

'Be worthy love, and love will come,'

In the falling summer rain.

"My Beth! the dust is always swept

From the lid that bears your name,

As if by loving eyes that wept,

By careful hands that often came.

Death canonized for us one saint,

Ever less human than divine,

And still we lay, with tender plaint,

Relics in this household shrine.—

The silver bell, so seldom rung,

The little cap which last she wore,

The fair, dead Catherine that hung

By angels borne above her door;

The songs she sang, without lament,

In her prison-house of pain,

Forever are they sweetly blent

With the falling summer rain.

"Upon the last lid's polished field—

Legend now both fair and true—

A gallant knight bears on his shield,

'Amy,' in letters gold and blue.

571 Within lie snoods that bound her hair,

Slippers that have danced their last,

Faded flowers laid by with care,

Fans whose airy toils are past;

Gay valentines, all ardent flames,

Trifles that have borne their part

In girlish hopes and fears and shames,—

The record of a maiden heart

Now learning fairer, truer spells,

Hearing, like a blithe refrain,

The silver sound of bridal bells

In the falling summer rain.

"Four little chests all in a row,

Dim with dust, and worn by time,

Four women, taught by weal and woe

To love and labor in their prime.

Four sisters, parted for an hour,

None lost, one only gone before,

Made by love's immortal power,

Nearest and dearest evermore.

Oh, when these hidden stores of ours

Lie open to the Father's sight,

May they be rich in golden hours,

Deeds that show fairer for the light,

Lives whose brave music long shall ring,

Like a spirit-stirring strain,

Souls that shall gladly soar and sing

In the long sunshine after rain.

"J. M."

"It's very bad poetry, but I felt it when I wrote it, one day when I was very lonely, and had a good cry on a rag-bag. I never thought it would go where it could tell tales," said Jo, tearing up the verses the Professor had treasured so long.

"Let it go, it has done its duty, and I will haf a fresh one when I read all the brown book in which she keeps her little secrets," said Mr. Bhaer, with a smile, as he watched the fragments fly away on the wind. "Yes," he added earnestly, "I read that, and I think to myself, 'She has a sorrow, she is lonely, she would find comfort in true love. I haf a heart full, full for her; shall I not go and say, 'If this is 572 not too poor a thing to gif for what I shall hope to receive, take it in Gott's name?'"

"And so you came to find that it was not too poor, but the one precious thing I needed," whispered Jo.

"I had no courage to think that at first, heavenly kind as was your welcome to me. But soon I began to hope, and then I said, 'I will haf her if I die for it,' and so I will!" cried Mr. Bhaer, with a defiant nod, as if the walls of mist closing round them were barriers which he was to surmount or valiantly knock down.

Jo thought that was splendid, and resolved to be worthy of her knight, though he did not come prancing on a charger in gorgeous array.

"What made you stay away so long?" she asked presently, finding it so pleasant to ask confidential questions and get delightful answers that she could not keep silent.

"It was not easy, but I could not find the heart to take you from that so happy home until I could haf a prospect of one to give you, after much time, perhaps, and hard work. How could I ask you to gif up so much for a poor old fellow, who has no fortune but a little learning?"

"I'm glad you are poor; I couldn't bear a rich husband," said Jo decidedly, adding, in a softer tone, "Don't fear poverty; I've known it long enough to lose my dread, and be happy working for those I love; and don't call yourself old,—forty is the prime of life. I couldn't help loving you if you were seventy!"

The Professor found that so touching that he would have been glad of his handkerchief, if he could have got at it; as he couldn't, Jo wiped his eyes for him, and said, laughing, as she took away a bundle or two,—

"I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I'm out of my sphere now, for woman's special mission is supposed to be drying tears and bearing burdens. I'm to carry my share, Friedrich, and help to earn the home. Make up your mind to that, or I'll never go," she added resolutely, as he tried to reclaim his load.

"We shall see. Haf you patience to wait a long time, Jo? I must go away and do my work alone. I must help my boys first, because, 573 even for you, I may not break my word to Minna. Can you forgif that, and be happy while we hope and wait?"

"Yes, I know I can; for we love one another, and that makes all the rest easy to bear. I have my duty, also, and my work. I couldn't enjoy myself if I neglected them even for you, so there's no need of hurry or impatience. You can do your part out West, I can do mine here, and both be happy hoping for the best, and leaving the future to be as God wills."

"Ah! thou gifest me such hope and courage, and I haf nothing to gif back but a full heart and these empty hands," cried the Professor, quite overcome.

574 Jo never, never would learn to be proper; for when he said that as they stood upon the steps, she just put both hands into his, whispering tenderly, "Not empty now;" and, stooping down, kissed her Friedrich under the umbrella. It was dreadful, but she would have done it if the flock of draggle-tailed sparrows on the hedge had been human beings, for she was very far gone indeed, and quite regardless of everything but her own happiness. Though it came in such a very simple guise, that was the crowning moment of both their lives, when, turning from the night and storm and loneliness to the household light and warmth and peace waiting to receive them, with a glad "Welcome home!" Jo led her lover in, and shut the door.

#hellsitesonlybookclub #bookblr #little women #alcott

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phantomwritezstuff077 · 8 months ago

Text

The Runt - Billy the Kid

Warnings for this chapter: language, hints of PTSD?, sad Laurie, mentions of emotional abuse/trauma.

Chapter Seven

Laurie laid on the guest bed, staring at the ceiling as she held up her stuffed goose, Goosey. The dim light of the lantern on the dresser was the only source of light in the room, Laurie was completely in her own world. Letting her mind wander until there was a knock at the door, causing her to sit up and set the stuffed animal to the side.

“It’s open,” the red-head said quietly. Billy opened the door, his blue eyes emitting nothing but concern for the child in front of him. He knew exactly why she was upset and why she had abruptly left the table like that. He wanted to check-in on her before it was lights out.

“Hey,” Billy greeted, sitting at the foot of Laurie’s bed. “You okay, kid?”

“I’m fine,” Laurie replied, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked out of the window. Laurie was never one who liked talking about her feelings, back on Jesse’s ranch, whenever she tried to express her emotions or feelings it would only end with Jesse berating her and making her feel guilty for having these kinds of feelings.

“Kid, I asked if you were okay,” Billy repeated, not buying into the obvious lie the girl was telling him. He knew he was probably treading on mighty thin ice by trying to get Laurie to actually admit that what was said back at the table had upset her, but he still tried. He wanted her to know that it was okay to express any negative emotion.

“I said I was fine,” Laurie snapped, her voice rising. She really did not want to talk about it, she just wanted to be left alone.

Billy sighed, swallowing before he nodded.

Maybe next time.

“Okay, okay,” Billy finally said, “Mine and Melquiades’ room is just across from yours, knock on the door if you need anything, all right?”

Laurie nodded, lying back down as Billy left, closing the door behind him. The young teen felt like absolute shit for snapping at him like that, he was just trying to help and she knew that. But she also just really did not want to talk about her feelings, because she never understood her feelings. How can you talk about yourself and get people to understand why you are the way that you are when you don’t even know the answer to that yourself?

ⅠⅠⅠⅠ

The next morning, the door to Laurie’s room was slammed wide open, causing Laurie to cry out and jump out of her bed as Billy and Melquiades bega to frantically search her room in a frenzy, cursing under their breath as they searched.

“What is going on?!,” Laurie asked, watching the men in confusion as they looked at each other and ten at Laurie.

“The money’s gone,” Melquiades responded in a panicked tone, this only confused Laurie even more.

“What fucking money?,” she repeated.

“The money that Melquiades and I won at the poker game last night,” Billy explained before him and Mel had a sudden mutual thought and they turned on their heels, racing down the stairs.

Laurie stood there for a second, processing what was going on before she snapped out of it and followed them down the stairs. Her hair was still an absolute mess, she looked like she got into a fight with a stray cat. Billy and Melquiades were talking with Mrs. Buena, who was sitting on a chair and knitting without a care in the world.

“I will ask the president of Mexico if he can reimburse you. I’m sure my husband can arrange it,” Mrs. Buena said to Melquiades. Laurie was even more confused and a bit agitated.

“Where are your daughters?,” Billy pressed, the stress in his voice was evident as Laurie came and stood next to him. This was happening pretty fast and she was still processing everything, she hadn’t even realized she was still holding Goosey in her hand until she looked down and saw the old plushie in her hand.

“I live here alone. With my husband,” Mrs. Buena replied simply, not looking down from the blanket she was knitting.

“The two girls we had dinner with last night. Who are they and where are they?,” Laurie jumped in, looking up from her hands. She hoped she was helping here by also pressing the situation. She wanted to make herself useful instead of standing around like a blind kitten.

“You mean my nieces. They left early this morning,” Mrs. Buena told her, still not looking up from her little knitting project, seeming like she had no interest in talking to the two men and child.

“For where?,” Billy asked, crouching down in front of the old woman.

“I think… Sacramento,” the older woman told him, still knitting. Laurie felt her blood run cold, she had lived in Sacramento for a couple of years when she was younger, however she hadn’t been there for 6 years. Her family ended up moving away from there after Laurie’s best friend, Dale, passed.

“Sacramento?” Melquiades attempted to lunge at the older woman, only to be stopped and restrained by Billy, dragging him outside like a mother would drag her tantrum throwing toddler out of a shop. Laurie followed them outside as she held Goosey tightly in her hands.

“That was one big, fat, fucking mistake,” Billy hissed as they walked away from the house, looking back with a deathly stare. Laurie didn’t say anything as she walked, she had everything she needed anyways. Goosey and her sketchbook.

“I didn’t hear you or the child complain about being here!,” Melquiades argued.

“Because we both trusted you,” Billy snarled, taking off his hat and pointing at the man in front of him, making another gesture to Laurie.

“We’re fucked, man!,” Melquiades cried out, “What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Billy sighed, looking over at Laurie. The poor girl seemed a little bit spooked at the sudden yelling. He sighed, lowering his voice and looking over at Melquiades again. “You tell me. What are we gonna do?”

ⅠⅠⅠⅠ

The trio rode off to the bank, Laurie decided to stay behind with the horses while Billy and Mel went inside the building. The young teenager sat down by the post, leaning on it as Artax nickered, lowering his head and nuzzling her which made her smile and kiss the side of the stallion’s muzzle before opening up her sketchbook and starting a new drawing.

Laurie sat there for about a minute or two before Billy came storming out of the building. She stood up, closing the sketchbook as she looked at him with a confused expression on her face. She studied his movements and facial expressions carefully and immediately saw he seemed incredibly pissed off about something.

“Come on!,” Melquiades hissed, trying to grab Billy’s arm but the young outlaw pulled away. Laurie wanted to ask what was going on but she was afraid to jump in, she felt like now was not the right time to be caught up on what had happened.

“I can’t do this,” Billy snapped, sighing as he rested his hands on the short wall, leaning a little bit as he inhaled.

“You can’t do this?,” Mel asked rhetorically, not seeming to care about Laurie’s presence. “We talked about this!”

“You don’t understand. I’m not a criminal,” Billy replied, looking at Laurie before he looked back at Mel, who only laughed out loud at the young man’s response. “I only shot someone once in self-defense and… I had no choice.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Melquiades said, “No, you told me that you rustled cattle, you stole horses. Those are crimes, my friend.”

“But not against people,” Billy argued and Mel scoffed, turning away as he sighed.

All Laurie could do was stand there and watch, part of her screamed at her to get them to stop but the other part of her wouldn’t stop reminding her of what happened the last time she intervened in something like this and the image of Jesse smacking her across the face flashed through her mind.

“I don’t rob stores because people help them,” Billy continued, “I tried that once. I’m not doing it again.”

“That is not a store, Billy. That is a bank,” Melquiades spat, pointing at the bank. And that was when Laurie understood. Mel wanted Billy to help him shoot up and rob a bank.

“Well, we wouldn’t just be robbing from this bank,” Billy retaliated, pointing at the bank as Laurie watched the scene unfold. “We’d be robbing from all of these people and their savings. Including that mother and her son. I won’t do that. It’s not right nor is it fair. And if that’s not reason enough, I am not going to drag Laurie into a life of crime.”

Melquiades glared at him before his sharp gaze snapped to Laurie, looking at her like she had just murdered his dog. The young girl felt herself flinch upon his gaze before he stormed off. Laurie walked over to Billy and sat next to him on the wall. She hadn’t even noticed how much she was shaking until she sat down and felt her entire body basically vibrating.

She really was fucked up if she was shaking like a hyperthermic bunny over simply witnessing an argument.

Billy noticed the young girl shaking and he sighed, putting his arm over her shoulder and pulling her in for a side-hug, rubbing her arm like a loving brother would. Laurie’s shaking body relaxed a little bit, she was still trembling but she visibly relaxed a whole lot after this gesture. The red-head rested her head on Billy’s arm, taking a deep breath as she held Goosey close to her chest.

A/N:

Laurie needs a hug, and lots and lots of therapy

Tag:

@slutforsnow

#billy the kid gif #billy the kid hc #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #billy mccarty #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x oc #older brother core #the runt #runt of the litter #tom blyth #angst

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cappymightwrite · 4 years ago

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Honestly him knowing the broad strokes since 1991 about who might get married does give me Jonsa feels but then what he had planned for her character in the outline doesn't sound promising , though Sansa does marry the king in that letter.

I think we have to take that “original” outline with a grain of salt, because obviously the characterisations in it have changed quite a bit. Sansa, definitely, evolved into a different kind of character, so I don’t think we can look at the Sansa in that outline as being a true indication of her current character and where she’s headed. What I find interesting, and reassuring in terms of Jonsa, however, is the inclusion of a pseudo-incest romance. Also, it shouldn’t be forgotten that there are apparently several outlines — this is just the only one we have access to, and even then, some details in it are blacked out.

So, what I personally infer from that outline is that GRRM always planned to have a forbidden romance between a Stark girl and Jon Snow, which then becomes possible thanks to the parentage reveal. Arya and Sansa are not the same characters they were in the leaked outline, lots of things didn’t survive GRRM’s revisions...but I think the romance described in it did.

I think that there was always meant to be a Stark girl romantic heroine, and more than that, I think she may well have always been intended to be a redhead, because this tracks with GRRM’s past writing of romantic heroines, his artisitc influences, as well as his personal life:

In a New York Times profile, GRRM was asked the question, “what’s up with you and redheads?”, to which he answered: “I like redheads! I’m married to a redhead!”, before qualifying that he liked all hair colours;

George has expressed being a fan of the Pre-Raphaelite movement and painters, who quite notably have an unavoidable amount of redheads featured in their works. For more on that, see my post: GRRM, Sansa Stark & The Pre-Raphaelites;

He has written about more than one romantically coded red-haired (or auburn-haired) heroine prior to Sansa Stark, for example:

Laurie in A Song for Lya (1974)

Gourlay wasn’t the sociable type, but Valcarenghi had a woman with him, a stunning auburn-haired vision named Laurie Blackburn.

[...]

She smiled. A radiant smile in a radiant face, but there was no humor in it. Her hair fell in sweeping auburn waves past her shoulders, and she was dressed in something long and gauzy. I could see her gentle curves through its folds, and she made no effort to hide herself.

As discussed by a number of Jonsa theorists, this novella is particularly noteworthy because you have an auburn haired heroine (Sansa is specifically described as having auburn hair), who is also described as “radiant” (like Sansa is by Jon), and it is also a story that made his redheaded wife, Parris, cry upon reading. Interestingly, A Song for Lya is also a story that he brings up quite a lot as one that he is particularly proud of, outside of the ASOIAF series.

Sharra in The Lonely Lands of Laren Dorr (1976)

Not quite a full red-head, but notably reddish nonetheless:

She is grey-eyed and pale of skin, or so the story goes, and her hair is a coal-black waterfall with half-seen hints of red.

[...]

Sharra was frowning. She shook her long black hair, and in the dim light of the candles the soft red highlights glowed.

[...]

Her hair, jet black with light-born glints of red and purple, blew as freely as his cape, but the dark crown was in place.

I mean...that second description is eerily close to how both Ygritte and Sansa’s hair are described, though perhaps especially Sansa’s:

She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft...the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper. – ACOK, Catelyn VII

There were spearwives with them, long hair streaming. Jon could not look at them without remembering Ygritte: the gleam of fire in her hair [...]. – ADWD, Jon XII

Crystal in The Tower of Ashes (1976)

Again, not fully auburn or red-headed, but this recurring motif of red tones shining in either firelight or sunlight:

Gerry set his aircar down in the weeds near the base of the tower, just a few feet from my own. Crystal was with him, slim and grave, her long gold hair full of red glints from the afternoon sun.

Alaina in The Stone City (1977)

Perhaps less romantic, more apocalytic Sci-Fi, but once again, there is possibly a hint towards GRRM’s admiration of red hair:

He forced a smile for bloated, pale-faced Takker, then quickly turned to Alaina. She had worked the jump-gun with him once, a year ago and more. And they had been lovers, briefly. But that was over. Alaina had put on weight and her long auburn hair was dirty and matted. Her green eyes used to spark; now amberlethe made them dull and cloudy.

Jennifer in Nor the Many-Coloured Fires of a Star Ring (1980)

Another not quite auburn, but still noteworthy:

Jennifer looked up at him, all business. She was a beautiful woman, tall and slim, with bright green eyes and long straight red-blond hair. She wore a severe white lab coat and a gold ring.

Kathy in Unsound Variations (1982)

She stood up, and shook loose her hair. It was long and auburn and it fell around her shoulders gorgeously, and Peter remembered the sweet lady he had married eight years ago, when he was a bright young author working hard on his first novel. He smiled. “You look nice,” he said.

Maggie in The Armageddon Rag (1983)

Like Sharra, Crystal + Maggie, not exactly auburn, but still “reddish”:

Maggie had never been a classical beauty. Her mouth was a bit oversized and somehow a little lopsided, especially when she smiled, and her nose was large and still crooked where it had been broken by a cop’s nightstick during the ’68 Democratic convention. But she had nice green eyes, and a generous mass of reddish-blond hair that always seemed windblown, even inside, and more animation to her than any woman Sandy had ever known. Maggie had been the first great love of his life, as well as the first lay, and sitting there in her living room looking down at her, he realized suddenly that he had missed her enormously.

I just found these by doing a word search on some books via the Internet Archive (which I’ve used previously for academic work, a useful site!), so this isn’t a complete list by any stretch, but it is uhhh...striking what it’s turned up, just by looking at a few of GRRM’s previous works. You do have the odd male character in these other works described as having red hair, but specifically auburn hair seems (from what I could gather) to be soley attributed to female characters and is always described positively.

Furthermore, the characters described with auburn hair also seem to have long hair, quite often falling past their shoulders. Those with hints of red, or reddish hair, are also described with lengthy and/or thick locks. It is probably unsurprising that GRRM links long hair with attractiveness, since long hair has for a long time been associated with western feminine beauty, which makes it interesting when you have fashion movements, like in the 1920s, which attempt to subvert/deconstruct those associations. But lets have a look at some of Sansa’s hair descriptions and see how they compare to Laurie, Alaina, and Kathy’s, and to a slightly lesser extent, Sharra, Crystal, Jennifer, and Maggie’s:

She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone, and picked her nicest blue silks. – AGOT, Sansa I

And there in their midst was Sansa, dressed in sky-blue silk, with her long auburn hair washed and curled and silver bracelets on her wrists. – AGOT, Arya V

She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft...the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper. – ACOK, Catelyn VII

When she pulled it free, her long auburn hair cascaded down her back and across her shoulders. – ASOS, Sansa V

When Gretchel fetched her Lysa's silvered looking glass, the color seemed just perfect with Alayne's mass of dark brown hair. – AFFC, Alayne I

[...] and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back [...] – AFFC, Alayne II

The specific trait of long, thick, auburn hair in ASOIAF is also shared by both Tully sisters, Catelyn and Lysa. However, on asearchforiceandfire, the person who is most frequently associated with these traits is still Sansa. For me, this just hammers home the fact that Sansa is the romantic heroine of ASOIAF, and I suspect that the leaked outline Arya would have also had red hair, specifically long, thick, auburn hair, which looks particularly beautiful when illuminated by firelight or sunlight. It just...it tracks, it tracks with what we’ve seen GRRM do before, what some of his artistic influences are, as well as his real life romantic history. So that leaked outline doesn’t make me worry about the likelihood of Jonsa, if anything it just confirms for me what I think one of his intentions for writing was all along...

I think he really wanted to explore the incest motif, as uncomfortable as that may be (certainly a...choice, George)! This becomes more obvious when you start digging into some of his literary influences, most notably William Faulkner and Tolkein (Quenta Silmarillion), who he’s spoken openly about as influential writers, but also most likely Lord Byron as well, since he had this to say about Jon Snow:

Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. [source]

For the record, I don’t think he’s just interested in the incest motif and I don’t think that’s the sole thing he takes away from those authors — e.g. I do think he’s heavily inspired by the Romantic movement in terms of aesthetics — but it’s definitely a factor. I think it’s been a factor from the beginning, as illustrated by that leaked outline, however, the story and characters have shifted around and changed quite a bit since then, yet the incest motif remains.

I really put no stock in the original love interest being called Arya, because she isn’t the Arya we see in ASOIAF. There might be a few points of similarity, but taking into consideration everything GRRM has said on the possibility of Jon and Arya becoming romantic...it seems quite clear that aspect isn’t going to happen. Because really, it seems very counterintuitive to me, to have the romantic interest Stark girl for Jon Snow look very similar to him, and for them to have a very close sibling bond, if you are planning to go down the route where the romance is forbidden, but then allowed through a parentage reveal. Really, you want them to be, at the very least, visually quite different so that your audience can accept it a bit more easily. It also just seems nonsensical considering that GRRM has this similar looking (BAD) actual sibling incest in the form of the Targaryens and Lannister twins, which surely are there, in part, to act as foils. Of course, the fact that we have barely any information of an established dynamic between Jon and Sansa, which suggests a certain distance, also helps this eventual transition into romance. It is almost certainly a very intentional choice.

With that in mind, it makes far more sense to me that Jon’s love interest was always meant look different to him, was actually always meant to have beautiful, long, auburn hair, and as it stands in the canon iteration of the series...that person is Sansa Stark. It just is. It has been her since the moment Jon described her as “radiant” in Jon I, A Game of Thrones, and then made even clearer still in Arya I, where she’s described with, essentially GRRM’s personal feminine beauty ideal, “thick auburn hair”.

So, my faith in this quote hinting at a Jonsa marriage still remains:

Yes, I mean, I did partly joke when I said I don’t know where I was going. I know the broad strokes, and I’ve known the broad strokes since 1991. I know who’s going to be on the Iron Throne. I know who’s gonna win some of the battles, I know the mayor characters, who’s gonna die and how they’re gonna die, and who’s gonna get married and all that. The major characters.

[question if he knows Arya’s and Jon’s fates] Tyrion, Arya, Jon, Sansa, you know, all of the Stark kids, and the major Lannisters, yeah. [source]

To my mind, GRRM has known since 1991 that Jon Snow will marry an auburn haired Stark girl, who he thought was his half-sister, who actually turns out to be his cousin. That is what I take away from that. Just from her physical description alone, when compared to GRRM’s previous writing, I feel like it is actually astoundingly clear that Sansa Stark is the romantic heroine of the series, and that’s discounting all the other romantic and Romantic (as in the literary movement) characteristics and parallels she has. It’s just...it’s just so obvious to me at this point. Literally all signs point to her.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #cappy's thoughts #book speculation #all the signs point to her i swear to GOD #the supremacy #this man is obvious in his love for redheads/auburn hair #it was always meant to be an auburn haired beauty for Jon #before i did this ask i knew about Laurie's hair #but the others?#illuminating to say the least #the man has a method #and it is romantic auburns or bust

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