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therappundit · 3 years ago

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***Top 225 Rap Albums of 2021***

The Rap Pundit’s picks for the ”BEST” (a.k.a. My Favorite) Rap Albums of 2021

What more can I say about the year that’s been 2021 that hasn’t already been said? I have plenty of good things to say about the past 12 months, and I have plenty of bad things to say about 2021...but when it comes to the soundtrack, I have nothing but joy and appreciation for rap music in 2021. The talent pool continues to expand at a global scale, and it’s harder than ever to stay on top of all the quality rap releases each week, but at the end of the day, what a lovely problem to have to manage.

I wanted to drop my own list of the best rap albums of 2021 last week- let’s call that Version 1 - but simply too much great music dropped this year, it would be a crime to miss out on acknowledging all of my favorite releases in some capacity. SO BEHOLD, VERSION 2: 225 OF THE YEAR’S BEST DAMN RAP ALBUMS/EPs/MIXTAPES/WHATEVER (I don’t even know how most folks differentiate “a collection of songs” nowadays, my only criteria for inclusion on this list is that the project had to consist of at least 6 songs).

R.I.P. Drakeo the Ruler, Young Dolph, and so many other talented people that we lost this year. You, your families, your fans, your communities and society in general all deserved better...but so many will be forever grateful for the art that you shared during your all-too-brief time with us. 🙏

Now let’s get to it, because we have A LOT to cover..starting with the Top 10:

10. Disco! by MIKE

Very few artists could claim to be as impactful to the modern music landscape as MIKE. The gifted New York MC and producer has been every bit as influential to the suddenly packed lane of experimental underground rap artists as Earl Sweatshirt, and what was once called “lo-fi” or a “sub-genre” by many is now a driving creative force in rap music today, with peers such as Navy Blue, AKAI SOLO, Maassai, Mavi, Maxo and others now seated at the forefront of avant garde rap music.

Every MIKE release sounds like a dreamy, flowing exploration of whatever thoughts were going through his head at the moment his head hit the pillow. Dating back to his last album (2020′s Weight of the World), he has been very open about processing the loss of his mother, and while he continues down that path with Disco!, here we find him on the emotional rebound, heading down an increasingly bright tunnel where the dawn is almost within reach. Disco! is arguably the best sounding album of MIKE’s career, as he seems to be hitting new strides both as a song writer and a producer (a big s/o to MIKE’s equally gifted alter-ego behind the boards, DJ BlackPower).

9. Razor’s Edge by Rome Streetz & Futurewave

Picking the best Rome Streetz moment of 2021 feels a little like picking your favorite day of 2021, since he was feasting on the rap game since the ball dropped back in January. Releasing multiple strong-to-great projects and who-the-hell-knows how many fantastic feature verses (dude is an absolutely workhorse), I’m sure fans all have varying opinions on what his best release was this year, likely listing out project titles in a 1a, 1b, 1c etc. fashion. For me, Razor’s Edge has it all, and as 2021 draws to a close it remains one of my top ten favorite albums of the year.

A lot of fans mention Headcrack as the moment they became a Rome Streetz fan, a 2019 release also fully produced by Toronto’s Futurewave (a force in his own right, well on the way to elite status). That now feels like a stepping stone to Razor’s Edge. Both artists have continued to steadily sharpen their tools since then, which has made Razor a tightly woven, dark collection of cautionary tales and assessments of the booby-trap laced city of New York that Rome Streetz calls home. This album manages to recapture the throwback sentiments of old boom-bap NYC, while also sounding fresh and forward-thinking in every way possible.

8. Call Me If You Get Lost by Tyler, the Creator

Surely a popular choice for rap AOTY, and with good reason. On Call Me If You Get Lost, Tyler, the Creator spotlights his skills as a MC and rap artist, but it’s mostly Tyler’s charisma and swagger that makes this album so special. It’s so clear that Tyler has his fanboy hat on as snug as possible over the course of the whole project, because from the DJ Drama inclusion to the sample choices to the loose, free spirit he has throughout Call Me, it seems that the primary creative force behind this album was a renewed love for rapping. It put an extra bounce in his step, and it’s contagious. It’s what makes him such a great figurehead for the mainstream-underground tug of war that’s happening in rap music at the moment. Tyler is a fantastic ambassador of quality music, either as a staunch representative of the underworld sewers where rappers “just spit bars”, or catchier, more radio ready fodder that sounds sunny enough to earn Pharrell’s blessing.

The time when I would not have been surprised to hear Tyler sample a Gravediggaz song has long since passed, so a single like “LUMBERJACK” was a curve ball that manages to dodge feeling like a reach for the underground rap accolades that former Odd Future teammate Earl Sweatshirt has lamped under for some time, but a culmination of Tyler’s journey from The Odd Future Tape up through Flower Boy and Igor, up to the present day. Tyler has always been a studio rat so it shouldn’t be a surprise that he is able to see where rap is trending, or that he is one of the most important voices within it. What does still need some time to get used to is Tyler consistently crushing rap verses the way he has been these past two years. Sure he’s important to the whole music biz, but when it comes to the future of mainstream rap music, right now he may just be the most important piece of the puzzle.

7. Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Sides A & B by Westside Gunn

To honor the man himself, I will be viewing Hitler Wears Hermes 8 as a double-album (exactly as the artist intended, in spite of the separation of release dates between Side A and Side B). Viewed separately, HWH8 Side A and HWH8 Side B are strong contributions in their own right, but together they serve as yet another blunt instrument wielded by the Griselda army to pound their competition into submission.

As both the front man and loudest member of the growing Griselda empire, Westside Gunn hyped the release of the eighth (and final??) installment of his controversially titled mixtape series for over a year, and during that time the star power behind Westside Gunn, Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher has risen sharply...almost as sharply as the industry around them has taken notice. With rap music trending towards more traditionally underground rap aesthetics, and with peers taking notice and wanting to rub elbows with the Buffalo collective more and more often (imagine how absurd a 2 Chainz or Lil Wayne feature on a Griselda project would have seemed back in 2016), it would have been fairly straightforward to allow HWH8 to pass through on cruise control. Fortunately for fans, Westside Gunn has the spirit of a Finn Balor living inside of him: one part earnest worker, one part raging demon.

It’s fair to give a great deal of credit to Gunn for not only crafting and curating the final product, but for being the spark that keeps Griselda sounding as hungry as ever in spite of their underground-turned-sort-of-above-ground celebrity status. It’s fun to discuss preference between Side A and Side B, especially amongst longer standing Griselda stans, but here is how I would break down the differences: Side A feels more like Wu-Tang Forever if it was edited down into a single album, while Side B feels like Wu-Tanger Forever in it’s final two-disc form. To put it another way, I feel that Side A does a stronger job of showcasing the strengths and hunger of the Griselda family, while Side B shows that the hunger still exists within increasing exposure to mainstream shine.

HWH8: Side A & Side B feature Westside Gunn, Conway, and Benny delivering the hard-knuckled bars and hustler tales that they and their old co-signs do best, only now joined by fellow rising stars like Stove God Cook$, Larry June, Jay Worthy, Sauce Walka and recent Griselda signee Rome Streetz. Toss in previously outside-of-reach fully established artists like Lil Wayne, 2 Chainz, Jay Electronica and Tyler, the Creator, and you have a full project that placates any core listeners that are still uncomfortable with the idea of Griselda revamping their sound, with a healthy overdose of replay value. HWH8 proves that one key trait of all Griselda albums remains intact: featured guests from outside the crew need to meet Griselda on their own turf, it’s not the other way round. So JAY-Z, Kendrick Lamar or Drake rapping alongside Westside Gunn over a Daringer beat? It hasn’t happened yet, but if it did, we wouldn’t be that surprised anymore.

6. Trapdoor by Defcee & Messiah Musik

A fourth quarter dark horse that seemed to come out of nowhere (except for those that have a history of working with both artists and already knew what they’re capable of), Chicago veteran MC Defcee and Baltimore’s Messiah Musik already shared many of the same peers, so it was probably only a matter of time before they dropped a project together....but I wonder if either party expected this?

The result of their union was Trapdoor, an album exploding with talent from top to bottom. From the writing to the rapping to the production (and I cannot express this enough - the writing and the production are both absolutely gripping throughout), Trapdoor has been steadily climbing my list of favorite music for weeks. A thoughtful album filled with life lessons without sounding the least bit preachy (please believe- this is a rare feat!), what Defcee & Messiah have achieved here is a powerful work of audio art that addresses so many of the hopes, fears, struggles, and successes of entering middle age at a time when the world feels like it is up in flames. Trapdoor walks right up to the line of bleak without losing hope, and looking back at these past two years, what can be easier to identify with than the struggles of trying to work, laugh and love our way through an increasingly claustrophobic way of life?

5. Half God by Wiki & Navy Blue

No artist on this list releases work as casually as Wiki, but the former Ratking standout will be hard pressed to keep a low profile after the reception to Half God. Joining forces with fellow underground workhorse Navy Blue (whose name will appear multiple times across many year-end lists, and rightfully so), Half God feels like the pinnacle of Wik’s (shockingly young!?) career thus far. Wiki has always leaned more towards the more experimental side, with a seemingly intentional desire to avoid doing what everyone else is doing, which serves both to strengthen his��discography and distance his clout within social media circles; however, here on Half God we find a slightly more mature Wiki, better at drawing together his creative rhyme schemes into more straight forward songs than ever before.

Surely aided by some of the smoothest production he has ever had access to for a full length project, Half God feels like the moment when Wiki officially staked his claim as an official ambassador of New York City hip-hop...which he always has been, but with friends and sparring partners like MIKE, Earl Sweatshirt, and Navy Blue, maybe now his artistic achievements will be headlining galleries rather than simply being mentioned amongst them.

4. A Martyr’s Reward by Ka

Like clockwork, any time Ka releases new work it is bound to skyrocket into the conversation of the year’s best. A Martyr’s Reward offers nothing new to longstanding Ka fans except for a more stripped down version of Ka than we have heard in some time. While much of his recent albums have successfully worked around a pinned metaphor (not as a crutch, simply as a touchstone to help keep the momentum going), A Martyr’s Reward feels like Ka speaking as Ka, rather than a vessel used to filter and distribute the memories and life lessons preached by the mighty Brownsville MC.

Here we find Ka speaking some of the most candid thoughts of his career. Alongside ‘Ka: the survivor of Brooklyn streets’, we have ‘Ka: the under-appreciated fire fighter’, or ‘Ka: the abused black man in America’, all angles of he man’s perspective feel painstakingly thought out - with an emphasis on the pain, and the subsequent ability to rise above it. As always, Ka’s pen remains unparalleled, every rhyme wound tight as a ticking clock and every instrumental seemingly crafted to only brace themselves for his chosen words from song to song. So while A Martyr’s Reward certainly doesn’t reinvent the wheel for Ka, with selections like the one below from “We Living/Martyr” (featuring the rising legend that is fellow MC/Producer Navy Blue), it is clear that Ka’s poetry on black history does so much more to inform the future, rather than dwell on it’s past.

“This proof I'm not duping, only solutions I ignite in my lab / Dumb nights, some nights won fights for my rights with a jab. If you ain’t got the brass to lock ass, go light smack / Appears somebody polluting my salute, nice to the flag. Till then they just dreaded heathens, can't pledge allegiance / Slave wealth built they grave wealth, there's no better grievance. Now the order's to abort us, instead of feed us / But if they bomb shit watch, in conflict, how quick they need us...”

3. Haram by Armand Hammer & The Alchemist

Not even a full year removed from the release of Haram, the incredible album that resulted from the union of billy woods, E L U C I D, and The Alchemist, it’s hard to imagine that there was a world that existed before all of their orbits became intertwined. While The Alchemist was no stranger to the work of Armand Hammer (he had even been a part of Moor Mother and billy’s impressive BRASS project that dropped in late 2020), many thought that the combination would prove to be solid, but not necessarily yield a final product that elevated the talent involved to new levels. Welp, they were wrong.

Hardcore Armand Hammer fans are devout when it comes to discussing their catalogue, so while I am not qualified to rank the collective or solo works of bill woods and E L U C I D, I can say with confidence that the musical chemistry showcased on Haram made it hard to believe that these three talents had never released a full length project together. The two fierce poets that comprise Armand Hammer sounded well at home sinking their teeth into Alchemist’s woozy loops and sample collages, leading to standout moments that revel in the juxtaposition of styles rather than the seamlessness. Lush backdrops draping cuts like “Falling out the Sky”, “Black Sunlight”, or “Stonefruit” prove not only that Armand Hammer’s machine-gunning streams of dark thoughts and social commentary sound well at home over Alchemist’s wavier production, but also that Al has so much more in his bag than he has shown us.

2. TV62 by Bruiser Brigade

A straight up FLEX tape. No, not the obnoxious out-of-touch DJ, I’m talkin’ a straight up show of power, a flex of talent. Not since Odd Future has there been a collective of under-the-radar, raw talent to put on a showcase like what Bruiser Brigade did in 2021. The truth is if you put any one of their releases from the past 12 months into this slot, I would not argue. But for my money’s worth, if you had only one hour to be convinced that the Brigade is not to be f’d with, I would tell you to listen to TV62.

At opening bell of 2021 you may have considered Bruiser Brigade to be only a vaguely established force consisting of Danny Brown and a line-up of lesser known, local co-signs....but heading into 2022, you better know the names of MCs J.U.S., Fat Ray, Bruiser Wolf, ZelooperZ, and Quentin Ahmad DaGod. Although it doesn’t stop there, because the crew has a huge arsenal of gloriously dusty (sometimes even bouncy - I mean the Detroit influence is pulsing within every Bruiser Brigade project thus far) production, courtesy of sharp talent like Black Noi$e, Skywlkr, Raphy, Playa Haze, HOLLY, Gulley and more. There simply isn’t a better “no skips” project that dropped this year, you really need to let this one play out, and then argue over which tracks are the best (spoiler alert: there is no wrong answer). The raw demo feel seems intentional, especially when you consider the Wu-Tang Clan homages that are present on a good portion of TV62. Danny and the rest of the Brigade would likely call this a collection of loosies rather than an official group album, but nevertheless, TV62 is the official arrival of a fully realized group of must-watch artists. Is it possible that Detroit has become the 37th Chamber?

1. Pray For Haiti by Mach-Hommy

Imagine you never heard of Mach-Hommy before hearing this album. Imagine being completely caught off guard by the flow, the confidence, the unpredictable paths taken mid-verse, the sudden bursting into song or Haitian Creole, while listening to Pray For Haiti for the first time. I imagine you would be blown away. Even being familiar with his catalogue, many were blown away by what was probably the most “accessible” project in Mach’s discography.

The album that officially elevated Mach from mysterious underground shadow figure to slightly more mainstream mysterious underground shadow figure, here on Pray For Haiti we find Mach-Hommy at his most controlled and confident, at times sliding over tracks with a swagger that could only be described as Hov-esque. While comparing Mach to Shawn Carter may sound absurd (or maybe worse yet, double-stanning for both artists!), they each have a knack for saying so much with brevity. Mach doesn’t need to weave a complicated verse about the advice that JAY-Z gave him...his station in life right now is best summed up by simply referencing that he spoke to Hov, but he’s not going to tell us any more about the conversation. Pray For Haiti works so well thanks to Mach-Hommy’s expertise at deciding what cards he shows us, and what additional cards he may have handy...but is probably going to hold onto until we meet again.

The album also works thanks to a number of other factors, such as the star making turns of next generation Griselda allies like Nicholas Craven and Conductor Williams, and of course the reliable guiding hand of Westside Gunn. Mach and Westside reconnecting at the start of 2021 was almost as big of a story as the success of Pray For Haiti, so much so that the threat of future work between Mach-Hommy and the Griselda camp feels as potent as the strongest moments on Haiti. Many fans of the artists involved didn’t actually believe that the album was dropping, right up until the moment that it actually dropped. Once it did, many were surprised at how seamless the pieces fit together...but not Westside and Mach. Both men value art and their contributions to the genre, they take the responsibility of putting music into the world very seriously, and when the type of musical chemistry they have exists, it shouldn’t be such a surprise that they can crank out a great rap album after relatively brief time spent in the studio once again.

To them, not much has changed. But to us? Mach-Hommy was just interviewed in GQ magazine....so yeah, a helluva lot has changed. Lucky us.

Yeah, you made it - 10 down, only 115 more to go! 🙌

***Here Are The Rest of My Top 225***....

11. Don and Von by Tanya Morgan

12. Balens Cho (Hot Candles) by Mach-Hommy

13. WEIGHT OF THE WORLD by MAXO KREAM

14. Affable with Pointed Teeth by YUNGMORPHEUS & Eyedress

15. With The Shifts by Maassai

16. Death and the Magician by DJ Muggs & Rome Streetz

17. Van Goghs Left Ear by ZeLooperZ

18. Free Dem Boyz by 42 Dugg

19. True Sky by AKAI SOLO & Navy Blue

20. Double Down by Nappy Nina & J Words

21. Bo Jackson by Boldy James & The Alchemist

22. All The Brilliant Things by Skyzoo

23. TIME by Your Old Droog

24. Street Dream Team by Good Gas x Fki 1st x BandGang Lonnie Bands

25. Joyland by STIK FIGA & Conductor Williams

26. Splash Bandicoot by Rahiem Supreme x Al.divino

27. Navy’s Reprise by Navy Blue

28. Bigger Than Life Or Death by EST Gee

29. Spacebar by Your Old Droog

30. End of the Earth by Mavi

31. King’s Disease 2 by Nas & Hit-Boy

32. SZNZ by Mother Nature & BoatHouse

33. Unlearning Vol. 1 by Evidence

34. Wicked Man's Reprise by Sideshow

35. HAMMERABI by al.divino x Mr. Rose

36. Voice of the Heroes by Lil Durk & Lil Baby

37. I GOT BANDZ FOR THE MOONLANDIN' by Semiratruth

38. The House Is Burning by Isaiah Rashad

39. Dope Game Stupid by Bruiser Wolf

40. Hindsgiht by Breeze Brewin & Juggaknots

41. UNKind. by Jay NiCE, DooF & Sadhu Gold

42. Imaginary Everything by L’Orange & Namir Blade

43. DONDA by Kanye West

44. GUMBO’! by Pink Siifu

45. DIVINENATION by Sleeper Sinatra

46. Super Tecmo Bo by Boldy James & The Alchemist

47. Real Late by Peter Rosenberg (and Various Artists)

48. Stray From The Pack by J Scienide & Kev Brown

49. Smoke Sessions 3 by Lord Apex

50. the phantom of paradise. by Remy Banks

51. SERENITY by Tokyo Cigar (and Various Artists)

52. Charlie Pope by Dark Lo & V Don

53. GOD GOKU JAY-Z by J.U.S.

54. Little Robert Hutton by Curly Castro

55. telephone booth by NAH & Wiki

56. EGO by Guilty Simpson & Gensu Dean

57. The Part & Parcel by Teller Bank$ & Ed Glorious

58. Michigan Boy Boat by Lil Yachty

59. C O T I (The Course of the Inevitable) by Lloyd Banks

60. KiltValee by Valee & KiltKarter

61. Sometimes I Might Be Introvert by Little Simz

62. ENOUGH TO PLAGUE A SAINT by Body Bag Ben & J Scienide

63. WINNERTIME by Papo2oo4

64. Fiend Lives Matter by Rio Da Yung Og

65. The Fraud Department by Jim Jones & Harry Fraud

66. The Off-Season by J. Cole

67. Bigger Than Life Or Death Part 2 by EST Gee

68. A Stream of Consciousness by Jay NiCE & Machacha

69. Why Look Up, God’s In The Mirror by Lukah

70. Call Me When You're Outside by Steel Tipped Dove

71. The Truth Hurts by Drakeo the Ruler [R.I.P.!]

72. 1997 by Chester Watson

73. Unfuckwitable (Deluxe) by Babyface Ray

74. P.S. by Nolan The Ninja

75. The Prophecy Is My Present by Asun Eastwood & THETWINNING

76. Magneto Was Right: Issue #8 by Raz Fresco

77. For My Mama And Anyone Who Looks Like Her by McKinley Dixon

78. Blood Stained Pages by Pro Zay

79. The Lightwork EP by AKAI SOLO, YL & Roper Williams

80. En Route (Deluxe) by Mfn Melo & squeakPIVOT & Pivot Gang

81. The Pen for Whom The Words Moves by Teller Bank$

82. Motion by G.T.

83. BL2 by Aakeem Eshú

84. Phresh Waves by Rim

85. Like It Or Love It by Papo2oo4

86. Latrinalia by Rob Sonic

87. Genesis 1:27 by Rome Streetz & ANKHLEJOHN

88. East of MacVicar Ave by STIK FIGA & DJ Sean P

89. Can U Get Your Supervisor? by Lil Kydd

90. WINTER 2 by DJ Muggs & Various Artists

91. Do the Math by Medhane

92. Vince Staples by Vince Staples

93. Faygo Baby by Kipp Stone

94. Rule of Thirds by Planet Asia & Evidence

95. A CONSTANT CONDENSATION by amani

96. Fat N*ggas Need Love Too by Bfb Da Packman

97. The Crashing Sound of How It Goes by Cities Aviv

98. Grace Park Legend (Deluxe) by Huey Briss & Nikobeats

99. Infinite Lawn by Mimz the Magnificent & Dunn

100. Stop Calling Art Content by Grafh

101. Built For Whatever by Tee Grizzley

102. Doe or Die 2 by AZ

103. Gooch is God & God is Everything by DrxQuinnx

104. Giovanni’s Way by Payroll Giovanni

105. Black Encyclopedia of the Air by Moor Mother

106. Fell Asleep Praying by Archibald Slim

107. BYAKUGAN! by Estee Nack

108. VIP by Pros Ap & V.I.

109. Vegas Vic by ZILLA ROCCA

110. If It Bleeds It Can Be Killed by Big Ghost Ltd. & Conway

111. $mokebreak EP by Pink Siifu & Fly Anakin

112. Don’t Go Tellin’ Your Momma by Topaz Jones

113. Forever 21 by EBK Young Joc

114. The Hour of Khrysis by Khrysis

116. No Cosign Just Cocaine 4 by Ty Farris

117. Super What? by CZARFACE & MF DOOM

118. The Color Blu(e) by Blu

119. N.O.A.H. by Quentin Ahmad DaGod

120. PortisHus by Hus Kingpin

121. 100 Miles & Walk-in by Rx Papi

122. Rx by Rasheed Chappell & Xp the Marxman

123. Panagnl4e, Vol. 3 by Los & Nutty

124. Angelic Hoodrat: Supercut by Kenny Mason

125. Elephant In The Room by Mick Jenkins

126. Free Rio by Peezy

127. Slaps & Hugs by Ayun Bassa & Jacob Rochester

128. Fire In Little Africa by Fire In Little Africa

129. Santa Barbara by Fat Ray

130. Hall Of Fame 2.0 by Polo G

131. Blacklight by Apollo Brown & Stalley

132. The Novelty of Standards by Jamal Gasol & Bass Reevez

133. Viktor by Jameel Na'imx & Mephux

134. GoFundMe Corvette by J.U.S

135. Borrowed Time by Dark Lo & Harry Fraud

136. 8WRLD by Sure Shot, of Dunbar

137. Load Bearing Crow’s Feet by Premrock

138. Narcotics Anonymous by WB Nutty

139. Punk by Young Thug

140. Keep Watching the Fly by Willie The Kid

141. The TrAppiEst Disco Music Ever! by Valee & AYOCHILLMANNN

142. Gangster Doodles: Gangster Music Vol. 2 by Various Artists

143. Lake Effect by Sango & Waldo

144. Beautifully Black by Lord Jah-Monte & Navy Blue

145. the Light Emitting Diamond Cutter Scriptures by R.A.P. Ferreira

146. The Tape Nobody Made by Ambassador Rick of The Opioid Era

147. Christina Shauntay’ by Backwood Sweetie

148. Ree Louis by Henny L.O.

149. Trapped Out, Vol. 1 by Guttafats

150. Book of Changes by Noveliss & Dixon Hill

151. A Train Grows In Brooklyn by Big Ghost Ltd. & Eddie Kaine

152. Krazy Man by Drego

153. DR. EV4L by Young Nudy

154. La Maquina by Conway the Machine

155. Richer Than I Ever Been by Rick Ross

156. Amongst Wolves by Smoovth & Giallo Point

157. Culture over Corporate,Volume 3 by Uptown XO

158. Certified Lover Boy by Drake

159. IT’S REMBLE by Remble

160. Same Energy by Bizzy Banks

161. War Zone by Fmb Dz

162. Untreated Trauma by Mozzy

163. B=MC2 by David Bars & Mono En Stereo

164. WORLD TOUR MAFIA OR DIE by World Tour Mafia

165. All Hail the King by Fashawn & Sir Veterano

166. Tha YOD Fahim by Your Old Droog & Tha God Fahim

167. WORD? by Atmosphere

168. War On Drugs by Los

169. Thumbing Thru Foliage by YUNGMORPHEUS & ewonee

170. Purple Dawn 2 by Deziner Drugz

171. Budget Cuts 3: Still Broke by SeKwence & KillerKane

172. I Died For This!? by Grip

173. Ice Daddy by Gucci Mane

174. Slime Language 2 by Young Stoner Life [Various Artists]

175. Hidden Treasure by Knowledge The Pirate

176. Still Gangin by DaBoii & Slimmy B [SOB]

177. Wake Ups by Rigz

178. Legend Laws of Power by Vic Spencer & Supa Sounds

179. Coup De Grace by Rome Streetz & Ransom

180. American Cheese by DJ Muggs & Hologram

181. SODA CLUB by YL

182. No Days Off by Lando Bando & The Hip Hop Lab

183. When The Black Hand Touches You by Lukah

184. In The Beginning The Was Kaos by Kaos the Baker & Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon

185. Call Me G.T. by G.T.

186. Starshooter by Shooter Gang KONY

187. Bad For Press by Van Buren Records

188. Why So Slick 4 by Four50

189. Rockstar Lifestyle by WTM DaeMoney

190. Wikipedia (Deluxe) by Shawny Binladen

191. Bin Reaper 2 by Babytron

192. Still Stoned On Ocean by Curren$y

193. ROGUE RAPS by O Dawg & Wavy Da Ghawd

194. Bushido by Mello Music Group [Various Artists]

195. New Man by Saga Asad & August Fanon

196. The Cook Up by Kmoneybeats

197. Se7en by Ransom

198. 4NEM by Chief Keef

199. Hey Tony by Tony Seltzer

200. Standing On Business by Skilla Baby

201. I Can’t Make This Shit Up by Shaudy Kash

202. Rookie Of The Year by Lil Eazzyy

203. Secret Wars by Raz Fresco & Dibia$e

204. Famili 2 by RU$H & JayNiCE

205. The Quiet Life 2 by Fresh Daily

206. Dum and Dummer 2 by Young Dolph [R.I.P.!] & Key Glock

207. Gold Mouf by Lute

208. Soul Trap by Tree

209. Not Dead yet! by Lou From Paradise

210. Play 2 Win by G Perico

211. Just Because 2 by Damjonboi

212. Good Product by Koncept Jack$on & Bane Capital

214. Wreckage Manner by Styles P & Havoc

215. Welcome To Beecher by YSR Gramz

216. Dirty Designer by dj lucas, subjxct & Papo2oo4

217. Heavy Is The Head by Ransom & Big Ghost Ltd

218. Xenophon by Theravada

219. HOFFA by Dave East & Harry Fraud

220. Heatin’ Up by Li Heat

221. Gzus Haze by Gzus Piece & Jae Haze

222. Pressure by Big Jade

222. My Name is 2 by 2

223. Clan Virus 2 by BlueBucksClan

224. Block Work by Milano Constantine & Dj Swet

225. Like Yay by Big Yavo

***Honorable Mentions (all of these artists released great work in 2021 that deserves more recognition...but I felt that a list of 225 albums was already a bit much) - in no particular order***:

Best rap albums: harvey_dug, Key Glock, Starker & Al.Divino, CRIMEAPPLE, Dt Blanco, Sauce Walka, FLEE, Skunkz, Kareem Idris & Ohbliv, Ralfy The Plug, Baby Keem, UFO Fev, Cise Greeny, YOUNG SLO-BE, DijahSB, Dave, Quadry, tony tone, Elcamino, Papoose, RU$H, Lucki, LPB Poody, Jae Skeese, Cee Gee, Rxk Nephew, Bobby Fishscale, Pharoahe Monch & Th1rt3en, VRN Hayes, Tony Shhnow, LordMobb, Pooh Sheisty, Recognize Ali, Flee Lord, Curren$y (he’s already on the above list but the 40 other dope tapes that he dropped this year also warrant another shout-out), Plex Diamonds, Monday Night & Russo Beats, Big Scarr, Cash Kidd, All-star Jr., Agallah, Larry June, Young Dolph, Sidestreet Capo & Shooterz Musik, Wrecking Crew, EkillaOffDaBlock, Surf Gang, Wavy Da Gawd, Blaq Kush / URBVN ARCHITECTS, Kai Fortyfive, Flee Lord, Planet Asia (he had several dope releases), Big Twins, Styles P, Ponae, Duke Deuce, Solemn Brigham, NA$TY, CRUZIN, Lewis Parker, Marv Won, CEO Trayle, aasir, Zaytoven, Tedy Andreas, Roadrunner Glockboyz, T.F, Xanman, Udababy, Trapland Pat, god’s kitchen 1984, Saga, Don Perrion, Nuk, Marcellus, Young Crazy, Neek The Exotic & Large Professor, NAPPYNAPPA, G Herbo, CHASETHEMONEY, Dat Boi Vic, Teejayx6 & Lex Luger, Lil CJ KASINO, Rollin Ajay, Tafia, Beneficience, K.J., Toney Boi, Baby Money, Bronze Nazareth, 22gz, Migos, Bobby Sessions, D Smoke, BVNGS, YN Jay, Mickey Factz, KrispyLife Kidd, Bub Rock, Daboii, Mirtaw, Moneybagg Yo, doof & NCL-TM, MoneyMonk, D Flowers & Deebaby, Fatboi Sharif, Fatboyshaun & Trox, and many, many more...

If you made it this far you’re a hero and a hip-hop head of fine taste. Thanks & peace to all. 🙏

See also:

https://therappundit.tumblr.com/post/669580372652310528/the-top-5-rap-verses-of-2021-the-pundits

https://therappundit.tumblr.com/post/656020494530854912/best-of-the-1st-half-of-2021-song-edition

https://therappundit.tumblr.com/post/649527317251670016/best-of-the-1st-quarter

https://therappundit.tumblr.com/post/638904640503726080/the-best-rap-songs-of-2020-great-songs-that

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heartofsnark · 5 years ago

Text

This Is Love (Chapter Two: Lukewarm Welcomes

Notes: Well...I was planning on posting this three days ago....but instead i vanished from the internet for a bit, a nice quarantine mental health crisis as i went into the weekend, we love that.

Word Count: 11,557

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, anti-cop dialogue, harassment, implications of domestic/family violence

For chapter one and the warnings about this fics overarching themes, please click here!

A little bell chimes over head as Dahlia steps into the registration building for the Moonflower Trailer Park, there’s little racks of magazines, pamphlets, and maps of tourist attractions. A young girl is at the desk, talking on the phone with someone as Dahlia tries to preoccupy herself with looking through things.

A plain white pamphlet draws her eye, the simplicity of it standing out among the vividly colored ones. It’s stark white with that strange cross symbol, from the signs and book, like sunbeams coming from the center of it, black text above the symbol says, ‘Eden’s Gate’ and text below it says, ‘We Love You’.

Before she can flip it open, the woman at the registration desk hangs up, calling her over with a “Miss?”

“I’m Hale, we talked on the phone, I’m here to rent a trailer.”

The woman’s eyes flicker down to the pamphlet in her hand and her nose wrinkles like she’s smelled something awful.

“You ain’t no peggie, are you?”

“A peggie?”

“Oh, shit, you really are new here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, this was in one of your racks.”

“Damn it, I told them to stop unloading their shit here. Look, I don’t wanna scare you away from Hope County, but the peggies are fucknuts, steer clear of them.”

“They dangerous?”

“No more than most of us, but they’re major prudes and buzzkills. Like, think Jesus is gonna firebomb my ass for cumming, type buzzkills.”

“Oh, that…sucks.” She has no idea where this woman is coming to that a religious group would think she deserves hell for it, but if the woman says they’re not dangerous, it’s not really any of her business, she really just wants her trailer.

“C’mon, I’ll show you the trailer and we’ll get everything set up.”

The trailer park isn’t huge, RVs and regular trailers all over it, a little playground in the middle for the resident’s kids with a slide, swings, and a little pool. A trailer with a diner inside of it, advertising bingo, and a little station filled with washing machines and dryers. None of the trailers outfitted with them. It’s a single wide with a little porch, nothing fancy; a living room, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. All she needs, nothing seems damaged or out of place.

“Looks, good to me.”

“Alrighty, we’ll get your down payment and registration settled, then you can have the keys and move in whenever you feel.”

“It’ll be a bit before I move in officially,” Dahlia tells her as they step outside the trailer, a few people bustling around

“Why’s that?”

“I’m coming all the way from Louisiana, still gotta get my shit moved in.”

The woman whistles, eyes wide.

“Hell of a move, but I tell you, you won’t find anywhere as beautiful as Hope County.”

“I’m excited.”

“Hey, Darcy, we got someone new coming in?” A woman asks, holding a kid on her hip, looking Dahlia up and down.

“Yeah, we’re just getting her squared away.”

“I’m Ruth, it’s always nice to see a new face.”

“Thanks,” Dahlia awkwardly scratches the back of her head, “I, uh, really appreciate the warm welcome.”

People aren’t her strong suit, she just never feels like she knows what to say, so she’d rather not say anything.

“Shy girl, don’t worry we’ll knock that out of you, real quick. We’re like a big ole family here at the Moonflower.”

“I’ll do my best not to get in the way.”

“Pfft, fuck that, you better be out here getting piss faced with everyone else when the Boshaw’s throw their next barbecue.”

“They’ll really find any excuse to get drunk, won’t they?” Darcy laughs, running a hand through her dark pixie cut.

“I don’t even know why they still let Sharky in here, dude got banned from renting, but can still show up, do his laundry and get drunk, makes no damn sense.”

“Y’know damn well, my mom and dad don’t have the heart to ban him completely.”

“Yeah, yeah, but if he sets my trailer on fire again, we’re gonna be having another chat,” the toddler squirms, trying to break away for something, “someone is getting fussy, I’ll see ya around, stranger.”

Dahlia waves goodbye to Ruth, a smile playing at her lips. The trailer park definitely seems to be a bit on the chaotic side from the sounds of it, but the warm welcome eases her nerves. She really can see herself settling in and finding some happiness.

She goes with Darcy and takes care of the last of the details, a new key in her hand. Pride swells in her chest, it’s just a trailer, but she has her own place. She’s an adult who’s adulting.

Once everything at the Moonflower is settled, Dahlia’s back at her hotel, haphazardly tossing her things in her luggage before check out time. Always late. Everything settled, she dashes down to the reception desk, the woman has been thankfully kind about the whole sleepwalking fiasco last night. Not only did she bring Dahlia back in with a blanket, she even had the kitchen make her some hot chocolate before she went to sleep.

“You checking out?”

“Yeah, gotta rush back home.”

“Ah, we gonna see more of you in Hope County.” There’s a hopeful lilt to the woman’s voice and it makes Dahlia smile, the people in this county are really friendly.

“I’m moving here, actually.”

“That’s wonderful! Ah, I’m sure you’ll fit right in, I have some friend who I know would just adore you. Let me know once you’ve settled in.”

“Uh, will do, thanks.”

A quick wave bye and Dahlia’s headed out the door, climbing back on her back to ride the long way back to Reinette.

It’s a long way, a pit stop in Denver along the way to keep her from losing her mind from exhaustion. She finds herself at the same roach motel she stayed at along the way to Hope County, no reason to go digging for something else. It’s past midnight when she’s checked into her room and is throwing her stuff on a creaking bed, staring at a stained ceiling. She already misses the hotel in Hope County.

Her joints pop and crack as she heads to the shower; she washes and hums along to her music and she half expects the odd hallucinations to return. It’s later in the day and she’s no doubt more exhausted now than she was last night. But, nothing happens. Her eyes are the same familiar brown when she looks in the mirror, no sirens try to lure her away, and she doesn’t find herself stumbling through a labyrinth.

She wakes up the next morning in the dingy little bed and she’s back on the road as soon as she can get there. By nightfall she’s made her way back to Reinette, pulling up in front of Lloyd and Caroline’s farmhouse.

The large wooden home with warm amber light seeping out from the windows. It looks and feels like a home. Sometimes, it feels like it could be Dahlia’s.

“Stray!” Lloyd yells out as soon as she’s stepped foot inside, pulling her into a warm bone crushing hug before she can say a word. She melts into it, hugging him right back, letting the heat of him chase away the chill outside.

“C’mon, we’ve been waiting on ya,” he tells her after he reluctantly pulls away from the hug, tugging her towards the dinner table. The smell of homemade stew hitting her nose and making her stomach growl, she can’t remember a time before Lloyd and Caroline where she could come home to an actual cooked meal. She doesn’t think it ever existed.

“So, what exactly happened, something about a bar?” Caroline asks, as Dahlia begins to gobble up her food.

“Well,” she slurs out her words around her mouthful of food, unwilling to stop eating just for a conversation, “there’s some bar in Fall’s End, some jackass tried to rob it and next thing I know Whitehorse is calling me his Junior Deputy.”

“Junior Deputy?” Caroline refills Dahlia’s bowl as soon as she hears the spoon scratching against the china, her eyebrow is raised, and Lloyd looks like he’s holding back a laugh.

“Thanks, uh, I guess it’s a term they use for their rookie deputies up there.” She shrugs, the term was strange, but she didn’t give it much more thought.

Lloyd’s unable to hold back his laughter anymore, face going beet red as he bursts into chuckles. Dahlia narrows her eyes at him, unsure what exactly could be so funny.

“That’s what they call the program for the little kids, Stray, when you give ‘em cardboard badges and stickers, they’re Junior Deputies. Earl was giving you shit, you were just too dumb to notice.”

Heat crawls up Dahlia’s face, she’s not sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment. Either way, she’s not happy and finds herself throwing a dinner roll at Lloyd’s head.

“Hey. I’m not dealing with any mess,” Caroline threatens, but Dahlia is busy glaring at Lloyd.

“He knows damn well I’m not a kid.”

“No one would know just by looking at ya.”

“You waste one more roll, you’ll be doing the dishes by yourself.”

Dahlia lowers her arm and instead shoves it in her mouth, looking at Caroline as she chews it, trying to ask if she��s happy now without the words, but the older woman simply rolls her eyes.

“Look, you know damn well that hazing is part of a new job, you aren’t gonna manage to avoid it.”

“Yeah, yeah, one of the other deputies was busting my balls before I even got the job.”

“Just means they knew you’d get the job,” Lloyd says with a grin.

“I’m pretty sure he’s just an asshole.”

“You thought that about Chase, too.” Chase is one of the officers for the Reinette department, a little shit.

“Yeah and I was right, Chase is an asshole.”

“But you don’t mind it anymore.”

“Sure...we’ll go with that.”

“Was everyone there giving you a hard time?”

“Uh,” her heart seems to beat a little faster when she thinks of Hudson, what is wrong with her, “no, the other deputy was…nice…”

Caroline and Lloyd shoot each other some look, a meaning behind it that Dahlia can’t catch.

“Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no, just for some reason when I met that deputy, I just got all weird, I guess.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, like my heart was racing, I felt like I was burning up. It was super weird.”

“Oh my god.” Caroline places a hand to her smiling mouth, looking over at Lloyd like she just struck gold.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what?” Dahlia asks, what the fuck kind of conversation are they having with their eyes, what are they freaking out about.

“I was starting to think it wasn’t gonna happen, which I mean, is fine some people just don’t feel that sort of way. But, here we are.”

“She really is growing up,” Caroline remarks, still smiling.

“I don’t know what you’re freaking out about, I’m probably just allergic to her perfume or something, I don’t know.” That makes sense, right? Why are they freaking out?

“Her?” Caroline raises an eyebrow, why does it matter? Why does any of this matter?

“Eh, lets be honest, Care Bear, are you really surprised?”

“No, but it’s nice to know, would have been nicer to know when I was trying to set her up with Susan’s boy.”

“Ugh, Susan’s boy, guy or girl Stray needs someone with more than two braincells.”

“She barely has any braincells.”

“Rude.”

“That’s exactly why she needs someone with a brain! You can’t have two idiots, that’s how someone ends up dead. You can have a smart person and another smart person, you can have an idiot and a smart person. But you can’t have two idiots, it’s a disaster in the making.”

“Hey, I’m not an idiot!”

“Look, it’s not meant to be an insult.”

“That’s literally the only way it can be meant.”

“I don’t mean that you’re stupid, you’re just…what’s the word I’m looking for Caroline?”

“Stupid.”

“I will start throwing food again.”

“Okay, okay, lets change the subject for now,” Lloyd holds his hands up in mock surrender, “that bar you were talking about in Falls End, wasn’t the Spread Eagle was it?”

Lloyd was actually born and raised in Hope County, but he left when he was around twenty-eight. He always tells the story of him moving to Reinette like it was magic, taking over an inherited farm from an estranged relative after their death, meeting Caroline, falling instantly and love, raising more foster children than Dahlia could imagine. They had just stopped taking in foster children, having adopted and raised the last one into adulthood, when Dahlia ended up in their barn. Lloyd, ever the dramatic, likened it to adopting cats and then once you’re done adopting, a stray just wanders in and adopts you.

“Yeah, you know the place?”

“Gary and Irene always use to give me and Earl discounts, it was always the first place we went after a shift.”

She can see that, so easily in her mind, the two men when they were younger leaving a long drawn out shift to let off steam in the local bar. It’s hard to imagine just how good of friends they must have been, spending time together after every workday and staying in contact even when Lloyd moved so far away. She can’t imagine having a friend like that.

“I think the woman running it was called Mary May, something like that?”

“Seriously, holy shit, Mary May was their little girl, my god she’s all grown up.”

“You’re old.”

“Thanks, Stray.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know, we should take a trip back to Montana sometime Care Bear, it’s been a while, plus we got a new reason to visit.”

“By the way, do you know what Eden’s Gate is?” The weird religious group is still on her mind, it seems to be all over Hope County. If they’ve been there for a long while, then surely Lloyd would know what it is and who they are. He raises an eyebrow and she can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Can’t say that I do, why you ask Stray?”

“Some religious group or something, they’re all over the county, even built a damn statue. Figured you might know what they are.”

“You mean, like the big deer statue near the Whitetail mountains?”

“No, like a statue of a dude, like their founder or some shit, dude with a manbun.” She uses her hands to pull her hair back in a little bun-esque shape, as if the visual aid is necessary.

“Yeah…that, I’ve never seen any of that, you sure, you ain’t losing it, Stray?”

“Yes, I’m very sure I’m not losing it. They don’t seem like bad folks, the one I met, but they’re definitely strange.”

“You’re not gonna go and try to find religion in Hope County, are you?” Caroline asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh fuck no.”

“I was about to say, I haven’t gotten to set foot in a church in two years.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d burst into flames.”

Lloyd and Caroline share a smile, cracking up at Dahlia’s expense as she sticks a tongue out at them.

“Hope they’re not the Jehovah Witness types, who go door to door,” Dahlia grumbles, the very thought making her stomach churn the stew inside of it. She’d rather blow her brains out then listen to someone preaching at her when she’s trying to relax.

“If they are, they’re about to meet their worst nightmare.”

She can’t help but grin, the chatting continues for a while, just enjoying a cozy night in with the couple. Before, she knows it the food is gone and the night has gone on longer than usual. Lloyd and Caroline typically sleep early, rise early, while Dahlia is more of a night owl.

But there’s an unspoken reluctance for the couple to turn in. Even as the moon hangs high in the sky, as Caroline and Lloyd yawn at the table. He even mentions playing a board game, cards, something. When she tells them to go to bed, Caroline nearly drifting off on his shoulder. She’s pulled into another hug, caring touches lingering as they finally drag themselves off to bed; tired voices slurring out goodnights.

Maybe it’s egotistical, but the hesitance seems to hint at more. An understanding that this is likely among one of the last nights she’ll spend here with them and the desire to make it drag on as long as possible. To soak in every last moment of her being here.

She knows she isn’t the greatest person to live with or even be around, that anyone should be happy to be rid of a leech like her. But, they’re far too kind for that.

Dahlia takes a slow walk to the room she’s called her own for the past two years. She hasn’t changed anything in the time she’s been here, despite how much the couple has told her she could. Piles of clothes on the floor are the only thing that could be considered her personal touch. The small bed frame creaks as she sits down on the side, a second later the door is pushed open by Lucy, Lloyd and Caroline’s border collie.

She lays a fluffy head on Dahlia’s knee and she buries her fingers into the fur, memories of the first time she held the dog. It was the first day she found herself here, hunkered down in their barn for shelter for the night, rain pouring down. She was scared that Lucy would bite her, aggressive towards a stranger. But just as kind as her owners, Lucy just shuffled herself closer to the drenched teenager, helping keep her warm through the stormy night.

She’s changed so much in these past two years.

Muscle tone and squish where was once a sack of bones, her fingers no longer able to slot in the spots between her ribs. Skin a healthier tan instead of the sickly pale it was that first night, ink now covering sections of that skin. Her first paychecks ending up in tattoos and clothes, taking control of her body and wardrobe in a way she’s never had before. For years her thick dark hair hung in a curtain down past her chest, that night and many nights before, it was tangled in thick dirty knots, matted to her skull in places.

The very first day she was allowed to shower here, she grabbed a pair of scissors and hacked it off to the best of her abilities. Caroline later cleaned up the choppy job and now she’s found herself with a short bob of dark brown, nearly black hair. She’s really started to come into her own, feeling like her own person and becoming who she wants to be.

She just wishes that was a person who could stay in Reinette. This is what has to happen, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t going to miss everything here. Lloyd and Caroline being the biggest thing, but Lucy, living on the farm, so much. It’s not like she’s never going to see them again.

They’ll likely invite her back for visits, already making plans to visit her in Montana, but things are going to change. That’s unavoidable and undeniable. It’s scary, but most things worth doing are.

Dahlia sees the sunrise before she finally manages to sleep in that bed for the last time.

The next day, or more accurately after she’s gotten a few hours of sleep, everything is a frantic blur of activity as she tries to prepare for the move. It’s mostly clothes, a laptop, a portable game, and a few books. Nothing major or impressive, a tight pang in her chest as

“Come on in.”

The door creaks open and she looks over her shoulder to see Lloyd, something in his hand. His fingers clench and unclench, there's something in his hand, he shuffles a bit in the doorway.

"Something up?" She asks, throwing a few more shirts in her bag.

"Uh, I, well, what's this?" His eyes are drawn towards her open duffle bag, the same one she brought with her to Hope County, she's just been throwing her stuff in without much thought.

She raises an eyebrow as he starts to shift some stuff around in her bag, pulling out a heavy white book with that familiar cross like symbol. How did that get in there? Chills reverberate up her spine, goosebumps raising on her skin, it's starting to feel like this Eden's Gate shit is following her everywhere.

"That was at the hotel, I uh, must have thrown it in my bag by accident?" It's the only thing that makes sense.

"First day there and you're robbing the hotel?"

"Shut up, I'll return it when I get back, but, uh, that's that religion I was talking about. Their book."

He drops what he was holding, it looks like a little booklet, homemade. She grabs it as he starts flipping through the weird religious tome, she opens up the booklet. A photobook, the first one is of her, Lloyd, and Caroline at the fair, big puffy bags of cotton candy in her hand. Second one her holding an alligator and grinning, they drug her out to an alligator ranch one day, knowing how much she loves animals. Pictures from the beach trip they took her on, photos of her and Lucy. A photo from her first day at the station with everyone crowded around her.

"Book of Joseph...god that's already creepy."

"Huh," nostalgia interrupted she peers over at the book, seeing a portrait of a guy, “that's him!" "What?"

"That's the guy who had the fuckin' statue of him, their founder or whatever."

"Who the hell wants his face hanging over 'em? Seems like a total creep."

“I don't know, he looks like Norman Bates there." She grimaces, the way he's glowering is entirely too reminiscent of the famous mother loving killer's signature look.

“Don't get it, I uh, hey, why are you looking at that?" He asks, peering down at the booklet in her hand.

"It's mine, I'm allowed to look at it."

"Who the hell said it's yours?"

"So, you weren't giving this to me as a gift, you just made it for fun?"

"Caroline made it and ya know, something to remember us by and..." His blue eyes blurring with tears.

"I'm moving states, not going to war, Jesus Christ."

"You're leaving, I'm gonna miss you."

“No one is dying, stop, oh my god, stop crying you baby." She knocks her fist into his shoulder, no force or animosity behind it.

“I haven't cried this much since Maya left for college," he tells her, talking about his youngest adopted daughter, who had left the home just a year or so before Dahlia showed up in their barn. The couple barely got a year of an empty nest before she barged in.

“Are you done?” She asks him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for the new fresh onslaught of tears to poor out.

“Yeah, yeah, by the way everyone down at the station wants to see you before you head out.”

“Why?”

“I don’t fucking know, maybe it’s ‘cause you’re leaving and they like you, some a little too much, as far as I’m concerned. “

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, my sweet naïve child,” Lloyd dramatically cups a hand on the back of her head and pulls in for a hug, “whoever was supposed to teach ya about the birds and the bees, really fucked up, didn’t they?”

“Shut up!” She groans, pushing him away, she’s not naïve. He just talks like a weirdo, she’s finally got her stuff all packed up, so she follows Lloyd out of the room.

Caroline is in the kitchen and has been all day, according to Lloyd she’s been cooking up a storm for the past couple days, ever since Dahlia first left for her interview.

“You coming down to the station with us?”

“Uh, I’ll meet you down there later.”

“Alrighty then.”

Dahlia’s heart sinks, a pang there as she sets up her luggage and bags to be tried down to her motorcycle, she plans on getting on the road right after this little meeting. She knows it’s silly, but she was hoping Caroline would go with them. It will be the last they see of each other for a long while, she doesn’t want Lloyd’s sobbing, but she’d like at least a little more…fanfare. But, Caroline seems fairly nonchalant.

“You ready to get going?”

“Yeah.”

Lloyd hops in his pickup truck, firing it up and driving into town with Dahlia riding her bike after him.

There’s an extra weight to her sigh as she parks in front of the little police station, the one she’s been reporting to every day for the past two year and this the last time she’ll visit. Lloyd doesn’t even bother to wait around for her as she stares at the building, soaking it in for the last time before she finally trails in behind him.

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices cheer out as she steps into the modest station, Micah and Chance two officers blowing on little party kazoos afterwards.

“What the fuck?”

“You didn’t think we could let you go without throwing you a party, did you?” Alexis tells her, squeezing Dahlia’s shoulder.

Alexis has the most experience here after Lloyd and if he’d bother to retire before the station goes out, she’d be next in line. Micah and Chance are the resident dumbass officers, but they’re entertaining if nothing else.

There’s a banner across the station office, Goodbye Stray. A sheet cake saying Good Luck on a table and Chance is throwing around confetti like a weird shredded paper fairy.

“You guys are so dumb.”

“We’re trying to be nice, brat,” Chance tells her, sprinkling confetti directly in her hair.

“Come on, I’ll cut you a piece of cake before he covers it in paper,” Micah offers.

Once the initial yell and Chance has run out of confetti, the party winds down into something more casual. Dahlia cramming cake in her mouth, with her feet propped up in Micah’s lap as they talk about everything. There’s a few other cops in the station, but most are on patrol and couldn’t make it. But Alexis, Micah, and Chance are by far the ones apart from Lloyd that she’s grown the closest too.

Which makes it all the more depressing that the station is slowly dying out. Each of them has already started building their list of places to apply to once the inevitable happens.

“I’m gonna miss you assholes,” Dahlia brings herself to say, after a moment.

“Finally, she admits it,” Lloyd yells out excitedly.

“Shut up.”

“You’re gonna make some great friends over in Hope County.”

“No one’s gonna be better than us, though.”

“Shut up, Chance.”

Dahlia can’t help but laugh at Alexis and Chance’s interaction, she really is going to miss these dumbasses. She doesn’t make friends easy, so parting with them and getting new ones is just that much more aggravating. Pratt was a dick and Hudson does weird things to her, how could she become friends with them? She doesn’t want to go to work everyday and either hate or be nauseous around her coworkers.

“My friend Earl will keep an eye on her.”

“Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid you mean,” Alexis teases and heat flushes up Dahlia’s cheeks. Why does everyone think she’s stupid, why does Alexis have to think she’s stupid?

“You like it up in Montana?” Micah asks after a beat of silence.

“I do, it’s colder up there which sucks, but it’s beautiful. Whitehorse is nice, I’ve met some friendly people,” she thinks of the couple with Boomer and the people of the trailer park.

“I’m glad then.”

“Watch out or Micah’s gonna be throwin’ in an application there just to follow you,” Lloyd says, grinning.

“Would you stop?! I just wanted to make sure, she was going to be happy.”

“Sure, you were.”

They talk about anything and everything, Dahlia is the first one to leave, but all of them have looked into where they want to be post-Reinette. Alexis is looking into big cities, lots of work, showing just how talented she is. Chance isn’t going far, a county or two over at most. Micah still isn’t sure, but he’s thinking of leaving the state.

The night drifts on, until the cake is gone, easily two-thirds of it ending up in the void Dahlia calls a stomach. Outside the sky has become a wash of oranges, pinks, and purple as the sun sets. It’s time to get going.

“I gotta get on the road, if I have any chance of getting there with enough time to settle in.”

Dahlia reluctantly stands from her chair, the time’s come. The last goodbye, for now at least, she hopes that they’ll stay in some form of contact after this. Alexis is the first to pull her into a hug and Dahlia freezes a bit, taken aback.

“You’re gonna do great things out there.”

Dahlia’s heart pangs and she squeezes Alexis back, hoping the strength of her hold can communicate how much those words mean to her. After a moment, they separate. Chance and Micah looking at her now.

“Don’t think this gets you out of your promise, twenty-first birthday, you’re letting me take you out and get you piss faced drunk,” Chance tells her, grinning at his own stupid ideas.

“If you wanna drive out to Montana just to see me drunk, that’s on you.”

“Don’t underestimate my stubbornness.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Just so you know, if you need anything, all you have to do is call and ask,” Micah tells her, squeezing her shoulder, but she can tell he’s holding back.

“You can hug me, if you want.”

And then his arms are around her, hugging her tight to his body. She squeezes him right back. A few moments pass, before they finally pull apart.

“Well now I want a hug,” Chance says, upon the realization he’s the only who hasn’t gotten one.

“Come here then, dumbass.”

And then they’re hugging, Chance going the extra mile to pull her up off the ground. Another beat of just enjoying the warmth of someone who for some reason cares about her. She’ll never understand why. Why any of these people opened their hearts to her, but they did, and she’ll always be thankful for it.

Lloyd walks her out once Chance has finally freed her, the sun sinking lower in the sky, she buries her hands in her pockets. Her throat is tight, it’s getting closer and closer to the time to leave.

“You sure, you can’t just stay one more night here?”

“It takes over a day just to get there.”

“But uhhh,” Lloyd is nervously looking around as he stutters, like he’s trying to stall.

“You alright?”

“Well….um, it’s just…finally!” Lloyd yells as they hear the rumble of an engine coming in, Caroline’s car pulling into the parking lot.

“Caroline?”

“Thank god, I managed to catch you.” The older woman gets out of her car, tucking a short strand of blonde hair back behind her ear, she opens the passenger side and is rummaging for something.

“What’s going on?”

“Here, we go.” Caroline emerges from her passenger seat with a towering pile of Tupperware, all filled with various meals.

“What the hell is this?”

“You can’t cook, how the hell else are you supposed to eat up in Montana,” Caroline says, shoving the containers into Dahlia’s arms.

“There’s restaurants, microwave meals, I have options.”

“I’m not letting you eat garbage the whole time you’re there, this should at least get you through the first couple months.”

“I, I don’t have room for six-hundred plastic containers, I drive a motorcycle.”

“Eh, I’m sure you can fit ‘em into the under-seat compartment,” Lloyd says, already lifting the seat on Dahlia’s motorcycle and taking containers from her arms to force inside.

Dahlia’s laughing by the time he’s forced the last of them inside, looks like she was proven wrong.

“So, I’m just gonna be sitting on three months’ worth of meals all the way to Montana.”

“Pretty sure that’s more like a week’s worth for you, but it’s better than nothing.”

Dahlia smiles and chews her lip, not sure what to say. Emotion and sentimentality rising up in her. She feels like she has so much to say, every word cobbling together to catch in her throat. But she can’t just let it go, even if she has to force herself to dislodge a single of those words, she has to do it.

“I…,” that’s a start, technically, “I, really, really, really, really don’t deserve you guys. Th-there’s not enough reallys in the world, but I’m serious, I-”

“Stray, you deserve all the good that’s comes your way, hell you deserve a lot more of it.”

“I really don’t, I, I owe you guys so much and I know I can’t ever repay you for everything. But, I, I at least want you to know just how much it all means to me. If it wasn’t for you guys, I’d, be rotting in a gutter somewhere, I mean.”

“Hey, hey,” she’s being pulled into Lloyd’s chest before she knows it, hugged tight against his chest, when did she start crying?

Her face feels like it’s on fire and her head is throbbing. After a moment, Lloyd pulls away. He places a hand on her shoulder and the other cups her jaw, forcing her to look at him through her tear-filled eyes. All her yelling at him to keep it together, don’t be a crybaby. And she’s the one falling apart.

“You don’t owe us anything. We did our best to do right by you, because that’s what you deserve. Okay, you deserve a home and a family and people who love you.”

“Uhhh, agree to disagree…?” What the hell is her voice doing? It’s so broken and cracked, everything she says dragging out of her throat.

“No disagreeing,” Caroline chimes in, her eyes soft and motherly.

“We just want you to be happy, you deserve it.”

“You think you can do that for us? Just be happy and you’ll more than pay back anything you think you owe us.”

“I’ll try, I guess,” she murmurs, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Good girl,” Caroline says, reaching out to ruffle Dahlia’s hair. The young girl laughs through her tears, pull Lloyd in for another hug before forcing one on Caroline.

Dahlia wipes away the last of her tears.

“Uh, sorry about that.”

“No apologies, call as soon as you get there. We’ll try to come out and visit just as soon as we can.”

“This ain’t goodbye forever, Stray, we’ll see you again before you know it.”

A bright silver moon hangs in the sky by the time she brings herself to part with them for the last time, climbing onto her motorcycle.

Two mornings later and she’s pulling into the Moonflower Trailer Park, the sun rising overhead. A smile stretches across her lips as she pulls in, a few people already milling about in the early morning. She notices Ruth, helping ease her kid down the little slide in the miniature playground that’s at the center of the trailer park. The woman waves at her and Dahlia returns the gesture as she parks near her trailer.

She pulls off her helmet and thanks for a moment, locking up and keeping her motorcycle safe will be difficult with this set up. Moving it into her trailer would be an option, but it’s be a pain the ass with moving it every day. There’s a decent chunk of land behind where her trailer sits, not enough for another to move in there, but enough to mark a pseudo backyard.

Maybe she can build a shed or something? She’ll have to double check on the rules and what’s allowed.

For now, Dahlia busies herself with moving her things into the trailer. She basically tosses her bags and luggage in, not bothering to properly unpack things. The biggest thing is moving Caroline’s meal into the fridge and freezer. Once everything is where it needs to be, she grabs a shower and changes her clothes. She’ll have to do some laundry when she gets a chance.

Dahlia stretches her muscles as she steps back out of her trailer, the activity has picked up somewhat, more people milling about and having conversations about who knows what. She makes a mental list of the things she has to get done; checking about a shed, getting some groceries in, doing her laundry and probably some stuff she hasn’t even thought about yet.

She makes a beeline for the registration building, peering inside and seeing a man talking to Darcy. Taking her chances of a long wait; she steps inside and loiters behind the stranger. Darcy’s bright blues land on Dahlia and the man follows the gaze, it seems like everyone in the county has a set of pretty light eyes. All greens and blues from what she’s seen. The receptionist at the hotel, both deputies and Whitehorse, the dispatcher at the station, Mary May, Darcy, and even Ruth. She’s pretty sure the only other pair of brown eyes she’s seen since she’s been here was the guy who nearly pulled a gun on her.

“You need something, hon?”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

“You’re fine, darlin’, we were just shooting the shit.” Pet names and light eyes seem to both be trends here.

“I was just wondering if I could build a shed behind my trailer, to keep my motorcycle locked up.”

“As long as you aren’t blocking anyone or anything, go for it.”

Dahlia gives a little thumbs up in acknowledgement and starts to make a bee line back out, time to find out where the hell to get supplies for a shed. The man starts to follow her out, quickly catching up to her as she’s making her way back to her trailer.

“If you’re looking to build something, there’s a nice hardware and carpentry store, they give you all the supplies and instructions. You just gotta put it together,” he finishes up as they reach her motorcycle.

“Sounds good, you got a number for them?”

“Yeah, I,” he looks at her motorcycle, “you got a way to haul it?”

“Nah, I’d have to rent a truck.”

“I got a pickup, if you order it, I can pick it up for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m down there most days anyway, I’m Liam by the way.”

“I-”

“Nice bike,” another voice yells out, a guy with scraggly hair looking at Dahlia’s motorcycle, “it yours?”

“Hey, Clyde,” Liam greets him.

“Yeah, 2009 Yamaha FZ1; guy’s kid totaled it and I nearly rebuilt it from scratch.” She tells him, smiling at the memory of finding the wrecked bike in Lloyd’s garage.

The three talk for some time about the specs of her motorcycle and talking about the place Liam recommended. He gives her the number and after some relenting agrees to be paid for at least the gas money. After some time and Clyde rambling about the vintage motorcycle he had as a teenager, she manages to tear herself away from the conversation to make the call. She reserves the materials and Liam is planning on heading that way shortly.

That taken care of for now, she decides to get her laundry taken care of. She grabs her bag of dirty laundry out of her trailer and makes a beeline for the laundry half building. It’s a strange roofed in area with no doors. How they manage to maintain the machine is beyond her. Seems like a nightmare when bad weather hits.

She rattles out her coins and gets what she needs, cooking may evade her but she at the very least knows how to do her own laundry. Dahlia bends over to start shoving her clothes in, she’s struggling to find her other sock when she gets the sense she’s being watched, someone’s eyes trained on her backside. She tucks a lock of hair back behind her ear as she stands back up and turns around.

“Uh, ah…” The guy awkwardly stumbles back, not really forming any words as he avoids her eyes. He’s taller than her; as are most people. Other than children, she hasn’t found a single person in Hope County shorter than her.

He scratches sheepishly at the back of his neck, why was he looking at her?

"There something on my shorts?" She brushes a hand down the denim, searching for something. It wouldn't be the first time she's managed to sit in something gross.

"Uh, shit, sorry I'm just a man, I can't help it."

"Okay…" That didn't really answer her question. Weird guy, she decides and focuses on going back to her laundry.

"No harassing the new girl, Boshaw." Ruth comments as she walks in, laundry basket on her hip.

“I wasn’t doing nothing.” He tries to defend himself and Dahlia is left even more confused.

“Don’t let him bug you, he doesn’t even live here. Boshaws are good for nothing but a party,” Ruth tells her, clapping a hand on Dahlia’s back. She just shakes her head, not worth dealing with.

By the time Dahlia finishes up her laundry the sound of a backfiring truck engine is making its way back into the trailer park. Liam with a truck bed filled with hardwood and all the stuff she needs for her shed.

“Me and Clyde will help you put it together, if you want.” Liam offers, him and Clyde already helping her unload the materials.

“I mean it’d go quicker, if I had more hands,” Dahlia says, she doesn’t need the help necessarily and doesn’t want to be a bother, but she’d appreciate it anyway.

“Where exactly do you want it?”

“Just right back behind my trailer, let’s see.”

The three of them move the supplies to where she needs the shed built, Dahlia’s taking a glance at the building instructions and when she looks back up, Liam and Clyde have managed to grab a radio and a pack of beer. It’s not even noon.

“Want one?” Clyde offers her a can.

“Nah, I’m under 21.”

“Pfff, never stopped anyone.” He shrugs before downing the can himself. Maybe as a cop she should give a shit about that statement, but the drinking age is dumb. Even if she feels obligated to listen to it due to her job, she can admit it’s stupid.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, sweetheart, where are you from?”

“Louisiana.”

“The hell you doing out here?”

“Moved for work, you two Hope County natives?”

“Born and raised, wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“You guy’s got any recommendations of shit to do here?”

She happily listens to them ramble about lady’s night at The Spread Eagle, O’Hara’s Haunted House being the best place for a scare, hiking trails in the Whitetail Mountains, the best fishing spots, the 8-bit Pizza Bar’s games, and raving about the burgers at The Grill Steak. The entire time they’re all working, laughing, and the pair of them throwing back beers.

Sweat is coating Dahlia’s skin by the time they finish, and it feels nice to be able to stand back to look at what’s been accomplished. Put together with hard work and the help of her new neighbors.

“Hell yeah, we got that knocked out in no time,” Clyde boasts, holding his hand out for a high five that she gives right away.

“Here,” Liam tosses her the padlock he picked up for it, all packaged with it’s little key. She pushes her bike inside, already thinking of adding hooks and shelves, for her helmet and other odds and ends. She can really make something with it. She’s more excited to put work into her motorcycle’s home than her own trailer. Go figure.

She locks it up and hooks the key on her keychain. One more thing taken care of.

“I really appreciate it, you guys didn’t have to do this. Uh, I can’t cook for shit, but if you want I can buy you l-”

Engine revving again, better shape than Liam’s backfiring pickup, an old green one comes pulling into the trailer park. Dahlia’s eyes widen in surprise when she realizes who’s at the wheel, Sheriff Whitehorse. The tension of the trailer park draws tight, no more signs of the laughing easy going nature she was getting comfortable in. Liam, Clyde, and every trailer park resident as far as Dahlia can see are now staring daggers at the Sheriff.

No sign of peturbment, Whitehorse parks and hops out of the front seat of his truck, right next to Dahlia and her two new friends. He stops to grab something from the passenger side.

“The hell are you doing here?!” Clyde asks low and threatening.

“Came to see my new Junior Deputy, figured it’d be good for you to get your uniforms,” Whitehorse tells her, green deputy shirts in hand.

“Thanks, Sheriff.” She takes the uniforms from his hand, feeling those glares that were on Whitehorse being turned towards her.

“You...settling in alright, Rook?”

“Uh, yeah, I think…” She thought she was. But, now she has her doubts.

“That’s good, just wanted to check in on you.”

“I appreciate it, I was just about to buy them lunch, if you w-”

“We’re good,” Liam says, definitely with a gruff sound to his voice.

“Are you s-”

Liam and Clyde are already storming away, smiles and laughter drained from their faces and replaced with angry tension. What did she do? Why are they mad? She clenches her jaw and chews her bottom lip as she watches what she thought were her new friends walk off.

“Come on, I’ll buy you lunch, Rook.” Whitehorse claps a large hand on her shoulder, warm and comforting during her confusion. He gently turns her towards the passenger side of his truck, and she climbs in, fiddling with the uniforms in her lap; the Hope County Sheriff’s Department patch rough against her fingers.

The engine revs to life as Whitehorse climbs in, the radio humming out a country song. She hates not at least knowing what she did wrong.

“Not gonna lie, when I heard you moved into The Moonflower, I got worried about ya Rook.”

“Why’s that?”

“Hmm, it’s where a lot of the more...suspicious citizens of Hope County live. They don’t have a lot of respect for cops, none actually. More likely to call you a pig than eat lunch with you. Not bad people, but they don’t have any love for law enforcement.”

“So...I’m a cop who just moved into a trailer park of criminals is what you're telling me.”

“Basically.”

“And thanks to you, they all for sure know I’m a cop now.”

“Would have found out when you had to arrest one of ‘em, this seemed a bit better.”

It’s stupid to be upset, she knows that it’s stupid to be upset about losing people she’s known all of five hours. But it felt nice to be welcomed with such open arms and to know that’s already gone to shit. She focuses on her uniforms in her lap because it’s easier than dealing with the lump in her throat and the churn of her stomach. No name tag or badge on her uniforms.

“Where’s my name tag and badge?”

“We’re a small operation, Rook. We’re not investing in patches and a badge until we know you’re staying in for the long haul.”

“I also found out about your junior deputy crap, I’m not a kid in high school.”

“Not far off from it.”

He’s looking off across the road to make sure it’s safe to turn, so she uses the moment of him looking away to stick her tongue out at him. Does it make her look any more mature? No. Does she care? No.

“Caught that, Rookie.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Sounds fake.”

They pull into the parking lot of Aubrey’s Diner, a big restaurant with a pink roof. Whitehorse brings the truck into park, Dahlia tucks the uniforms into the backseat before hopping out of the truck. The sheriff squeezes her shoulder as they walk into the restaurant, as much as he likes teasing her, he seems keen on trying to comfort her. Maybe he just feels sorry for her and her shitty luck.

“Hey, my name is Cassie, I’ll be your waitress today. Can you take a seat, right over here.” A young girl, probably around Dahlia’s age with long black hair helps show them to a booth. Whitehorse takes his hat off as he sits down.

“Can I get you two anything to drink?” The waitress hands them menus, there’s a mess of bruises across her forearm. Mixes of blues, purples, and some more faded greens. The indents of fingerprints on her skin.

“A black coffee, please.”

“Uh, whatever soda you have is fine, what happened to your arm?”

The girl’s eyes go wide, reminiscent of a deer in the headlights. She gives an awkward tight smile and pushes a lock of hair back behind her ear.

“Oh, I was just horsing around with my four wheeler, nothing major. I’ll go get your drinks, right away.”

“You worry about everyone, don’t you?”

“You don’t get bruises like that from a four-wheeler.”

“You gonna do something about it?”

“Sure as shit gonna try,” she manages to catch the smile on Whitehorse’s face before she looks at the menu, “now, if you’re paying, what’s the limit?”

“Get whatever you want.”

“Do you actually mean that? Or are you trying to be nice, ‘cause I can and will eat you out of house and home if you let me.”

He laughs a little; a dry chuckle, like the idea of her being able to eat that much is ridiculous. She should try to go somewhat easy on him, first impressions or something. She’ll settle on a stack of pancakes and a double burger and fries.

There are a few people in the diner and when Cassie returns, Dahlia decides now isn’t the time. She doesn’t want to embarrass or make her uncomfortable. Even she has a smidge more tact than that. Cassie takes their orders and Dahlia feels Whitehorse staring at her.

“You gonna gorge yourself to make a point?”

“Pfff, this ain’t nothing to me,” Dahlia tells him with a shrug, drinking her soda, an awkward beat of silence following.

“You know, it you may not have picked a great place to settle in, but I think you’re gonna like it here, Rook.”

“I’m hoping.”

“A lot of people aren’t gonna like you. Aren’t gonna like your job, or what you have to do. You can’t let it get you down. The people here are good, most of ‘em will take you in with open arms.”

“They literally turned their backs on me, like physically looked at me in disgust and turned around,” Cassie brings their food back out, “thanks.”

“You know why I took a chance on you?”

“’Cause of the robbery thing?’ She asks as she begins dumping syrup on her peach pancakes before shoving a forkful in her mouth.

“I was gonna give you the probie position before that.”

“What!?” She slurs out around the food in her mouth.

“Well, yeah,” his blue eyes are soft, and he reminds her of Lloyd more than he ever has before, “you’re good people, Rook. And I’m not gonna be the only person who sees that. Anyone’d be damn lucky to have you in their corner.”

She swallows her mouthful of food, chewing the inside of her cheek as she weighs his words in her mind. Her heart is lighter, it’s nice knowing her new boss is rooting for her, sees something in her that’s worth seeing.

“That, uh, it means a lot,” this is too serious, “so, if you already knew you were gonna give me a shot before the interview ended, why the fuck did you wait until after to tell me?”

“Wouldn’t be any fun if I didn’t make you sweat at least a little.”

“I thought I fucked it all up!”

“Can’t be a cop if you don’t have a good poker face.”

“Its too good, I hate it.”

“Well, if you hate that, you’re gonna really hate this.”

“...and what would ‘this’ be?”

“You’ll be with Pratt on patrol.”

“What!?” She groans out, thinking about that smug asshole’s face.

“Pratt wasn’t too excited either, but I’m sure you two will manage.”

“Why can’t I work with Hudson?” Dahlia asks, though her voice catches strangely when she thinks about her. Heat prickling up under her skin. Whitehorse sighs as he leans back in the booth.

“I don’t want this to sound bad. You and Hudson are both perfectly capable officers. But I don’t like having two women officers partnered. I know it’s not right, but around here; perps will think they can push you around ‘cause you’re a woman. They’ll assume you’re soft. It’s not right, but it happens. I don’t want to put you in a bad situation right out of the gate, working with Pratt will make it easier on you.”

“That’s garbage, you may mean well, but it’s garbage.”

“There’s another reason too,” Whitehorse tells her with lopsided grin.

“And what’s that?”

“Rook, you could barely even talk to Hudson. I partner you with her and you’ll be a disaster.”

“What are you talking about? I talked to Hudson just fine.”

“You were bright red and stuttering; blind man could see your little crush.”

“Crush…?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow, like...feelings… That’s what everyone has been trying to say.

“Jesus criminy, that’s a whole new can of worms. You know what a crush is?”

“Yes, I know what a crush is, I just...never had one...I don’t think.”

“You feel like you’re burning up and gonna puke when you see her?”

“Maybe…”

“Like your heart is gonna explode out of your chest.”

“Uhhhh…”

“That’s a crush, Rook.”

She doesn’t even know Hudson, how the hell can she have a crush on her? You can’t have feelings for someone you don’t hardly know. She’s pretty though. Maybe it’s just physical attraction? Has she ever been even physically attracted to someone before?

“My head hurts.”

“I’m starting to think you’re even worse than taking on a high school kid.”

“Look, I don’t mess with that crap okay, I’ve never...ugh, can we move on?”

They’ve finished their food before they know it, Whitehorse just shaking his head at how easily she managed to gobble up all of the food she got. Dahlia grabs a napkin, doing her best to write down her phone number with it being actually legible. Her hand aches from the effort but it’s easy to read.

Cassie gives the bill and Whitehorse leaves a tip for her, once the young waitress starts to walk away, Dahlia excuses herself to go smoke. Though, she suspects the sheriff knows her actual intentions.

“Hey, Cassie,” Dahlia calls out and stops the waitress when she gets to a relatively secluded portion of the restaurant.

“Is there something else you need?”

“How old are you?”

“Uhh, 18, why?”

Not much younger, but she’s an adult, even a year younger this conversation would be a lot different.

“I can’t force or do much, unless you ask for it. But, I’m the new deputy with the station. I’m not saying for sure something is wrong, but if you need help, I want you to give me a call, alright?”

‘Um...thanks…” The girl awkwardly accepts the napkin before darting away and Dahlia clenches her jaw, knowing the chances of that call ever coming are slim. But at least she’s made an effort and if nothing else Cassie knows she has options. More than anyone ever did for her.

Maybe, she’ll go ahead and step outside for a smoke anyway.

She steps out and finds herself at the side of the building, where she lights up her cigarette. Dahlia fiddles with the edge of her thigh high socks as she takes a deep drag. She exhales a heavy cloud of smoke that drifts up through the sky, the afternoon sun rays beating down on her.

Among the trees something moves, a rustling of grass and brush followed by footsteps. Dahlia’s heart sinks when she sees her emerge. The girl from the hotel, the siren is walking down a grassy pathway. Her dress is a little different, no less white or lacy, but the sleeves are shorter and it comes off her shoulders, a white flower adorning her sandy colored hair. There’s a light grace to the way she walks, as if she’s on her own personal cloud floating along. She holds a book close to her chest.

Why is she seeing her again? Are her eyes playing tricks on her again?

Dahlia is moving without another thought, the siren’s call working it’s magic to draw her in again.

She expects the girl to vanish again, to fade into mist the second Dahlia gets too close, just as she had done time and time again that night. The second she grabs the woman’s shoulder, she’ll be gone. If the junior deputy even gets that close without the spectre fading away.

The heat of real flesh under her hand sends her spiraling back to reality. The girl jolting and staring at Dahlia with wide green eyes, scared and surprised at the grasp of a stranger. An expression unlike any seen in Dahlia’s hallucinations. She’s human, flesh and real, an actual person standing before her whom Dahlia just grabbed like a maniac. The panicky yells of others flood her ears. There are other people, a group of five or so people glaring daggers at Dahlia.

“What do you think you’re doing?” One of them yells, obviously ready to fight and Dahlia rips her hand off of the girl like she’s been scalded. What is she doing?

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” Dahlia gushes out a mess of apologies, “I, uh, thought I knew you from somewhere. I’m sorry, I just, sorry.”

“No, no need for sorries,” she’s speaking actual words for the first time, voice soft and melodic as she gently brings Dahlia’s hand into her own to intertwine their fingers, “you’re here for a reason, what’s your name?”

“Oh, uh, I-”

“Rookie, you ready to head out?” Whitehorse yells out from the diner, eyes narrowing a bit when he sees Dahlia with the strange woman.

“I gotta get going, again, I’m sorry, I, bye.” Dahlia’s off like a shot, ripping her hand from the woman’s and running back towards Whitehorse; desperate to escape the awkwardness.

She still feels those green eyes watching her as she jumps up into Whitehorse’s pickup. Dahlia settles into the passenger seat with a residual chill in her spine, she can’t put into words but something about this girl and the whole thing feels strange. The engine revs to life and the radio starts to play.

“You know that girl, Rook?”

“I thought I recognized her but, no.”

“You probably shouldn’t buddy up too close to the Seeds.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re not too dangerous, they run a little religious group around the county, but they keep finding themselves in trouble lately it seems.”

“Reli- are they those Eve, Ed-”

“Project at Eden’s Gate, everyone calls ‘em peggies. They’re usually pretty harmless, but they always seem to be getting into hot water with the locals. Two of ‘em were the ones robbing The Spread Eagle that day you interviewed.”

“That doesn’t sound too harmless to me.”

“Stuff like that is rare, you just managed to land here at the right time.”

“Eh, I just know that I kept seeing random crap of theirs, from pamphlets to a book, and apparently that big freaking statue.” She glares at where she sees it over the horizon, the giant hunk of useless cement.

“Yeah, Joseph Seed is a real piece of work.”

“Wait, like, you’ve met him?”

“He’s had some run ins with us.”

“He’s like a currently living human being?”

“Last time I checked.”

“I, what the fuck, I thought he was like their old founder who died or something. You know from like the 1800’s or something. How far up your own ass do you have to be to have people build a statue of you? Ugh.”

Whitehorse laughs at her discomfort; she was here thinking he must have been some old founder who died a hundred years ago and it’s just some creepy man bun guy probably off somewhere being weird right now.

“You in a hurry to get home?” The sheriff asks her.

“Not particularly.” She needs to get groceries and stuff, but she has Caroline’s made up meals and she has water to her trailer, so she can make do and go shopping tomorrow.

“We’ll take the scenic route then, show you around.”

Whitehorse drives her around the Henbane river area, pointing out different places and structures that seem worth noting. The Dire Wolf Basin, Lydia’s Cave, Mastodon Geothermal Park, Dead Man’s Mill, and every place that has a name it seems. He prattles on something about each place, where they get their names, history. And she can feel her eyelids getting heavier with every syllable. They pass by the Drubman Marina, a dock and buildings, a pink helicopter landed there and boats on the sparkling clear water. The sun is starting to sink down and turn the sky into a mess of oranges and purples. His low accented voice rambles on about someone who owns it, divorce, real estate; it’s all a blur as she’s leaning against the door and her eyes finally shut completely.

“Rook, wake up,” Whitehorse is calling out and gently shaking her awake. She blinks a few times, clearing the sleep from her eyes. A glance at the radio clock tells her about two hours has passed. They’re parked back in front of the trailer park. He was talking and she fell asleep; not the greatest first impression to have on her boss the day before she starts working.

He doesn’t seem upset though, just smiling and laughing at her.

“You know, I was trying to help get your mind off shit, didn’t mean to do by boring you, but whatever works, I guess.”

“Sorry, I, uh guess, I was still tired from traveling, that’s a lie, I don’t know why I’m trying to lie. I just got bored and passed out.”

Whitehorse chuckles; at least he seems to find her amusing, that might help keep her around for a while.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Rookie, try to take it easy tonight,” she starts to unbuckle her seat belt, “and don’t forget your uniforms.”

“Thanks.” She grabs her uniform shirts out of the backseat and clambers out of the rusted green pickup.

Dahlia hears the trailer park before she steps past the sign. Whoops and hollers, the sound of a radio blasting. Behind her she hears Whitehorse’s truck pulling away and she feels alone again. No matter what it seems like she can’t seem to ever escape that.

In the center of the trailer park, near the playground area is a bonfire. Faces of people she’s seen in her short time here and ones she hasn’t met yet mingle around, laughing, hollering, and downing beers. The smell of food cooking over grills hits her nose, her never filled stomach growling despite herself. No one has noticed her yet. Caught up in the festivities. She adjusts the grip on her uniforms and kicks the toe of her boot into the dirt, she wants to be included. It’s childish, wanting so badly to just be invited. But she can’t help it. She doesn’t want to believe that people she seemed to fit in well with would throw her away because she’s a cop.

“You got a problem?” Clyde suddenly speaks up, noticing her through the party. His voice is low and his eyes narrowed, like he’s ready for a fight.

“Not particularly.” She shrugs.

“Then why don’t you go ahead and get out of here, Johnny Law.”

“I mean, I’ll go to my trailer…”

“Be better off if you just get out altogether,” Liam tells her.

“I paid to move in here like everyone else, you can’t kick me out.” Dahlia looks to Darcy, the only one here she sees that actually works for the trailer park and decided to rent to her. The girl chews her lip and avoids eye contact, running a hand through her short hair.

“I mean, yeah, as long as you pay you can stay, but I doubt you’ll be too happy here...You should, uh, try to find something else.”

“And the sooner the better, we don’t need fuckin’ narcs moving in on us.”

“I don’t work in narcotics.”

“Do I look like I give a damn what division you work for, a pig’s a pig!”

Dahlia clenches her jaw at Clyde’s yells, the way everyone around him is grinning, supporting him. This was one of the only options, besides an expensive apartment in Falls End or just waiting for the Silver Lake Trailer Park to have something available. She just rolls her eyes, trying not to betray the ache in her heart.

“This conversation is pointless.” She shakes her head and heads towards her trailer.

“Can’t believe we helped out a fuckin’ cop,” Liam grumbles as she turns her back on the party.

Then something pelts the back of her head, the stench of beer coating her hair as it splashes out of the nearly empty can that’s bounced off her skull.

She bites her lip, she could be an asshole, technically this can be classified as battery. And a little angry gremlin in the back of her brain wants her to teach them a lesson as they laugh at her, cackling like hyenas.

But it was just a can of beer, basically empty. She’s an adult. She doesn’t need to waste time or energy on this. At least that’s what she tells herself when she keeps her head down and makes her way to the trailer.

Her door does little to filter out the sound of the party. The music and excitement reverberates through the thin walls of her trailer.

Young blood, come to start a riot.

Don’t care what your old man say.

She tosses her uniforms on the couch, not really caring where they fall. The stench of beer is still sticking to her skin. She peels off her jacket and digs out her phone, syncing it to her speaker, might as well blast her own music in return.

Young blood, heaven hate a sinner.

I felt a break in a sacred place where your hands don’t heal.

But we gonna raise hell anyway.

These are the reasons you’re ruled by the things you feel.

The music mingles and mashes in awkward ways. The upbeat country rock and slow drag of indie music meshing into a cacophony of noise. Somewhere between a yell and a sing, she belts lyrics out, sometimes her music, sometimes theirs.

Raise hell, yeah

Out of the deep waters and all their intricacies.

Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell

This is the real face of all your enemies.

This isn’t unfamiliar. The ache of loneliness and feeling like she doesn’t belong. There are lots of reasons for it. No matter where she goes, there never seems to be a place for her. She can’t even blame them. Even if they’re open and welcoming, she knows that feeling will creep up again.

Baby, drop them bones.

I felt you escape into empty space where my heart can’t feel

Baby, sell that soul

Down in that darkness, you met all the things you feared

Lloyd and Caroline were the most welcoming people she’s ever encountered, yet that feeling still reared its ugly head. Those doubts of being a burden, a bother, that she’s intruding on their space. A leech of their time and energy.

The party rages on outside, everyone far happier without her around, as she lights a cigarette up in her trailer.

And I knew, I knew..

Baby, fare thee well

There was nothing I could do...

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #jacob seed #john seed #faith seed #deputy oc #this is love #dahlia hale

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scotianostra · 5 years ago

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On February 20th 1437 King James I was murdered in Perth.

As Kings go, James I and his immediate family had arguably the worst of bad luck, he was never meant to be King, his brother, David was first born but their uncle, Robert Stewart, Duke of Albany kidnapped him and he died in suspicious circumstances, apparently of starvation,Albany was cleared of all blame by a general council, which found that 'by divine providence and not otherwise, it is discerned that he departed from this life.'

James was then about nine years old was dispatched to France by his father Robert III, en-route the young Prince was seasick and the ship was forced to land on the English coast where pirates captured it and delivered James to Henry IV of England. His father, who was of ill-health throughout his rein, died shortly afterwards.

And so James began his rein as King in captivity, albeit treated very well and afforded all the trappings a royal guest would expect, except he was guarded and unable to return to Scotland. He spent 18 years with the English Court seeing three Kings of England, by his release in 1424 Henry VI was ruler. With that his return to Scotland did not go down well the ransom of £40,000 was raised through higher taxes and hostages from noble families were exchanged as part of the ransom added to that James was know to have accompanied Henry V to France and fought against Scots who were there as part of The Auld Alliance, despite this he was admired by some and was said to have excelled at sport and was appreciative of literature and music. Unlike his father and grandfather, he did not take mistresses but had many children by his wife, Queen Joan. The King had a strong desire to impose law and order on his subjects, but applied it selectively at times.

James exerted his authority with preemptive attacks on some of his nobles beginning in 1425 with his close kinsmen the Albany Stewarts resulting in the execution of Duke Murdoch and his sons. In 1428 James detained Alexander, Lord of the Isles, while attending a parliament in Inverness. Archibald, 5th Earl of Douglas, was arrested in 1431, followed by George, Earl of March, in 1434. The plight of the ransom hostages held in England was ignored and the repayment money was diverted into the construction of Linlithgow Palace and other grandiose schemes.

With all this the vultures were circling during the Royal Families extended Christmas holidays at Perth's Blackfriars Friary and on the evening of February 20th James I was resting in his nightgown and furry slippers, playing chess with his wife, Queen Joan, and their friends, when the assassins arrived around midnight.

It is known that at least one of his inner circle, the chamberlain Sir Robert Stewart, was in on the plot and excused the guardsman and loosened the bolts on the abbey doors, as he got word of the mob’s approach. An account of the day, given by Queen Joan following the raid and transcribed from Latin by historian John Shirley, described the “great noise...and great clattering of harness and men armed, with great sight of torches.” Leading the pack was the “false and traitorous knight” Sir Robert Graham, who supported the Albany Stewarts over the King. James I fled for cover with his wife and friends running for the chamber doorway, where the King urged them to stay.

The King, according to the account, tried to smash windows to enable their escape but they were too strongly soldered with lead for them the break. James I was “ugly astonished” and grabbed iron tongs from the fire side before “mightily” bursting up a plank of the chamber floor and dipping down to conceal himself, James thought he could escape under tennis courts but found the way blocked, this was his own doing as he was annoyed at losing tennis balls and had the way barred. The assassins - armed with "swords, axes, glaves, bills" burst in as he was climbing from under the floorboards back into the room. Unarmed and still in his nightgown, the King fought back, holding two men by their throats and cutting his hands as he tried to grab their knives. He was eventually overpowered.

The King died in a pool of his own blood with 16 wounds in his chest and many more on other parts of his body, the account added. Sir Robert Graham, is said to have screamed after his death:

"I have thus slayne and delivered yow of so crewel a tyrant, the grettest enemye that Scottes or Scotland might have."

Some have cast doubt on the version of events as told by Queen Joan with claims she hyped the heroism of the King.

James I was buried within the grounds of Perth Charterhouse, but the priory was destroyed, like many other Scottish treasures, in the reformation a century after his death and now no-one is exactly sure where his grave is.

A stone monument at the corner of Perth's King Street and Hospital Street marks the fact he is buried somewhere in the area..

#Scotland #scottish #The Stewarts #royalty #History

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stunudo · 7 years ago

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BAU Prep School AU

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Competition

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country.

Feb. 11, 2017 8:49pm Winter Formal

The entire room had frozen around her, the music a distant throbbing as her eyes fell on the pair. Lizzie didn’t know what to do, she wanted to scream at him, call him out in front of everyone. She needed to run. The traitorous tears had started falling before time returned to her. Her corsage scratched against her cheek as she tried to brush away the downpour. She wrenched it from her wrist and dropped it as if it had grown arms and legs that had somehow offended her.

“Typical, Lizzie, of course no one is your friend for you,” She berated herself. “He just wanted to get into the fancy school dance, wanted to flirt with all the rich girls.” She didn’t know where she was going, but she was marching out of the gymnasium with a zeal that would have impressed the Speed Walking team, if the school had such a thing. She was muttering under her breath when Nurse Callahan stopped her.

“Whoa there, where’s the fire?” She asked jokingly, until she saw the state of the young woman. “Lizzie, is everything alright?”

“Yep, fine, Nurse Callahan,” Lizzie sniffed back the tears and postured her bare shoulders. Kate couldn’t remember the last time Lizzie had worn makeup, this was a special night for her and something had wrecked that.

“Do you need an escape plan?” She asked knowingly, tossing her arm over the girl’s shoulder, conspiratorially. “Because, I will have you know, that my office is a perfect place to hide from life or, bad dates?” She guessed.

“It wasn’t even supposed to be a date, the only way I got him to come was in a group.” Lizzie admitted. “Why are boys so shallow, Ka- Mrs. Callahan?”

“They’re not all that way,” Kate squeezed her arm, despite the height difference Lizzie felt protected. “I know it’s hard, but everyone is so confused on what they want at your age. Find a guy who likes your fire more than he likes your body.”

“But what if I want him to like my body too?” Lizzie mumbled.

“In order for that to work, there’s gotta be trust. Don’t waste your time on people who can’t see all of you.” She grabbed the lanyard from her neck and unlocked the door. She held the door open for the burdened teenager and flipped the light switch.

“Take your time, I’ll check on you when the dance is wrapping up.” Kate made sure Lizzie was situated before turning to leave. “I’m serious, just yesterday Coach Jareau needed a break. That couch does wonders.”

“Thanks, Nurse Callahan.” Lizzie fell sideways and stared at the wall of quotes and baby animals.

Kate returned to chaperoning, letting Penelope know that Lizzie was in her office. Women understood the devastation of dance drama best. After a good, solid cry, Lizzie sat herself back up. She headed into the private bathroom to straighten out her face.

February 24, 2017 4:02pm Charlottesville, VA

The caravan of SUVs and minivans pulled into the assigned parking lot on the college campus. Zachary had fallen asleep, but one of his earbuds had fallen out allowing the rest of the car to listen to James Earl Jones’ voice reading from the Bible. Ms. Blake was appreciating the cadence and gusto as she clicked open her seat belt.

“We’re here,” Alex rolled her shoulders and started opening doors before ending at the rear hatch where the coolers were stored.

The teen-aged participants grumbled in their seats as they woke from their short naps. Six students had progressed to reach the State competition, blowing everyone away was little Zachary Henkle. Kimi Dalton, Sacha Kane, Trevor Malcolm, Amelia Turner and Jake Hernandez rounded out the little troupe.

Ms. Garcia bubbled over to their coordinator, leaving Dr. Reid in the passenger seat of her massive car. “Are we settling in or just taking a knee?” The be-dangled counselor asked, clearly picking up some sports lingo from her boyfriend.

“Well, er,” Alex started, scratching the back of her neck. “I think we have allotted tables inside the Center. They will be our base of operations for the weekend.”

“I brought signs and name tags,” Penelope explained. “This way we can keep track of everyone.” She opened her canvas bag showing off her eye-numbing neon signs.

“If you can get anyone to wear those, sure, Penelope.” Alex placated. “Didn’t Reid ride with you?”

“He’s finishing up the rule book, only had like fifty pages to go,” Penelope waved towards her car.

“Well, at least someone read it,” Alex muttered, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “Un-subs! We will drop off our bags at the hotel later, for now let’s get situated outside the auditorium.”

The students tossed their luggage back in the trunks as they listened. The few parents that came along also respected the teacher’s authority and listened intently. The winter chill nipped at the poorly dressed students, hoodies and letter jackets hiding bunched fists.

“Dr. Reid and I are required to attend a supervisory orientation this evening. I trust you all, will listen to Ms. Garcia and the parents who came down early, while we are away. After that, you will have free time at the hotel until lights out at ten o’clock.”

“Ms. Blake?” Zachary’s hand caught her eye first. “If our parents aren’t here, do we have a shared room?”

“Yes, Zach,” Alex answered in her same booming voice. “Students may stay with their family members. Dr. Reid will supervise the boys’ room and Ms. Garcia will stay with the girls.”

“Good thing, Michel didn’t come.” Jake muttered to Kimi as the group started making their way across the parking lot.

“I’m pretty sure Ms. Garcia would have made sure they had their own room, Jake.”

“That’d be nice.” The boy admitted.

“Creating safe spaces isn’t easy, loves.” Ms. Garcia whispered to the pondering competitors. “Are you excited for tomorrow? I love a good debate, well, not really. I like winning debates. Does that count?”

The teens laughed, their guidance counselor loved to keep them entertained.

March 7, 2017 3:45pm

The pitch was still damp with the late winter rains, naked of chalk, gleaming in the fading light. JJ held her clipboard in front of her as she paced, waiting for the girls to change and meet her outside. A new season of soccer was underway, tryouts lasted two weeks, starting this afternoon. With her mind on the pool of players, JJ lined up the school’s balls in a daunting row. Thirty seven names were on the sign up sheet from outside her office, three were boys and four were mildly comedic and terribly immature imposters. She put out thirty three navy and white balls, to be safe.

She didn’t start the tryouts with a heated inspirational speech. She just explained her expectations for the day and kept the students moving. Twelve of the team from last spring had returned and another seven that had been cut had put themselves back out there for another round of scrutiny. The rest were new faces, freshman and sophomores that hadn’t tried out last year. JJ was impressed and slightly apprehensive about the large numbers. Cuts were hard, but necessary.

After an hour of warm ups, drills and sprints, JJ was ready to get down to business. She evenly divided the returning players with the new recruits, preparing them to scrimmage.

“Hannah, I want you to lead the Blue Squad and Camille I want you to lead the White Squad.” Coach JJ explained. “You have five minutes to set your line ups and I will whistle when we are set to start.”

The girls broke off into excited huddles as JJ sauntered over to her bag and camping chair. Seltzer water had become her best friend over the past month and she downed half a bottle while the players organized. Her features were pink in the late afternoon chill, she seemed to have lost what little meat there was on her face. She checked her watch, time to release the hounds.

“Un-subs!” Her voice sliced across the field. “To your positions. We will have a quick scrimmage. All players must be subbed in if they are not starting. Fifteen minute quarters, to ensure your captains are able to make those substitutions.”

She hiked to the center of the field, lined with orange cones as Anderson wouldn’t lay down the paint for a few more weeks. The whistle hovered over her lips, she eyed the forewords, nodding to the White Squad that they could call the coin in the air.

“Heads!” A chirping voice called out.

“Its tails, Blue Squad, choice?”

“Blue Squad will receive, Coach.” Little Cissy Howard parroted Hannah’s instructions.

“Very well, line up.” The whistle finally peeled into the gloaming.

March 8, 2017 7:22am

Coach Morgan was running behind, having left Penelope’s house later than normal. She was quite distracting in the morning and as she didn’t have a class full of students waiting on her first period; a terrible influence. He by-passed his usual stop in the main office and jogged down the corridor towards the gym and eventually, the weight room. Lifting in the morning was his favorite class, the students were too tired to be chatty and it got the bulk of the supervising out of the way. It didn’t hurt that he practically dictated his own schedule each year.

He slipped inside the locker room to change for class, always ready with a “go-bag”. As he rounded the corner he caught the hulking form of Andrew Heathridge bending over the bench. But he wasn’t tying up his trainers, his foot was bare and he had a syringe in his hand. Derek did a double take as the door finally closed, signalling his arrival.

The muscular boy stood up quickly tossing the needle into a corner of the lockers.

“Heathridge?” Coach reprimanded.

“Coach?” His voice startled, shame clouding his features for a moment before he reset his eyebrows.

“Do you want to tell me what I just saw?”

“No, sir.”

“You and I are going to have a talk after school, man.” The other weightlifters had started filing in behind the awestruck Coach. Andrew remained silent, but he rolled his eyes and went back to his sock and shoes. Derek Morgan was heartbroken.

March 10, 2017 9:37pm

“Alright, but remember that one time you tried to serve him store bought gelato and he nearly threw it back at you?” Alex was laughing so hard that the tears were collecting in her crow’s feet.

David Rossi nodded solemnly then shook his head, “I mean, I probably spent more on the stuff in the package than I do on ingredients, but Jason knew!”

Haley was laughing just as hard as Alex and Stan, Jordan’s husband. Aaron smirked as he sipped his bourbon. Chef Rossi had some of the old timers and the headmaster over for a dinner, letting the memories of Jason soothe over the rough way he was sent off.

“I remember him telling us, once, that his great uncle was an executive for some movie production company in Chicago?” Hotch asked Rossi for verification.

“Believe it or not, that wasn’t a lie. He has some old reels of Chaplin that he puts on sometimes.” Dave admitted. “God, what is he going to do with himself now?” Instinctively, his eyes wandered to Allie for an answer.

“Don’t look at me,” Alex teased. “I lost Jason and the house, remember.”

“You hated this house,” Dave shrugged.

Haley sensed some wine-fulled nostalgia changing the topic. “So what was Jason like, before, when he was married?”

“Night and day,” Jordan piped in. “He smiled, he was courteous. Still impulsive and perhaps even more reckless.”

“Before his wife left him, Jason was a decent guy, thriving on knowledge and sharing those discoveries.” Stan explained in a broad baritone.

“Has anyone heard from Stephen?” Hotch asked, cautiously.

“I get semi-regular updates. But nothing since,” Dave finished his glass. He stood making his way to the beverage cart he had in the sitting room. “Can I get anyone anything? I’m up.”

“Actually,” Aaron eyed his beautiful wife. “We should probably get going. The babysitter is waiting.”

Dave and Jordan shared a knowing smirk. “Uh-huh, sure.”

“Thank you so much for having us!” Haley stood enthusiastically hugging the old chef. “You really do have a nice house.”

“Mansion, but thank you, my dear.” Rossi teased. He shook Hotch’s hand at the door.

Jordan and Stan helped Alex clear the glasses before heading home. Alex sighed as she looked back at the circular drive illuminated like a beacon, a lonely castle in the night sky. She never really hated the house, it just held too many memories to live in it any longer. It was better to visit, rarely.

March 13, 2017 7:18am

Dr. Reid found Coach Morgan in the Main Office before school, his shoulders hunched in his FBI windbreaker. The inquisitive man didn’t know how he was going to explain his impulse to offer to help with an athlete, but something had put his feet in motion. Perhaps it was everything that had happened to students this school year, perhaps it was a distraction. Whatever it was, it wasn’t leaving Spencer Reid to sit by the wayside.

“Coach?” Spencer said, despite his croaking voice.

“Hey, Reid. What’s up?” Morgan’s full attention was now on Spencer.

“Listen, I heard, about young Mr. Heathridge,” Spencer began as Derek nodded. “I was wondering, maybe, if I could talk to him?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. But Reid, what exactly do you know about the situation that I don’t?”

“Though I am sure you are versed in the lasting effects of such doses, I may be able to appeal to him on a different level.”

“And what level is that?” Derek straightened his posture, eyeing the science teacher now.

“As an addict.” Spencer let it sink in. “Now, obviously I wasn’t taking steroids or performance enhancers, if, we are being generous. I have a problem with Dilaudid, which is like heroin. I know what its like to take something to make life easier.”

“Wow, man. How long have you been clean?”

“Three years, seven months and eighteen days.” Spencer said instantly.

“So right before you started teaching?” Derek said after a few moments of heavy silence.

“Pretty much.” Spencer waited.

“Does anybody know about this?” Derek asked gently.

“Hotch does, President Strauss, uh, found out, and I am sure some of the students do, or have guessed.”

“Let me think about it?” Derek answered finally. “I want to help Andrew, but I don’t want to leave you vulnerable, if it backfires.”

“Derek,” Spencer said, was this the first time he had used the coach’s first name? “I need to help. I can’t let another student falter, not when I could have done something.”

“Okay, man.” Derek smirked in admiration, patting Spencer robustly on the back.

Very Special Thanks to Cassie @mentallydatingspencerreid,

Meg @imagicana , and Loki @ay-nako!!!

@ddreammcatcher @ultrarebelheart @lightbluelester @criminal-anatomy @captainreid @thebadyears @amarislestrange @shaelyn102 @badasprentiss @fl0werb0nes18 @inestava @sam-carter-in-training @wonderboygenius @fortheloveofpearlet @valentina-pendragon-blog @imarockstar45 @chocok22 @cynbx @fairymega @madamredwrites @doctorspencerreidrp @mindsunleashed @dontshootmespence @bookofreid @marvelfanlife @welp-there-it-is @ilikeitwhenyousleepforyouareso @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @original-criminal-fanfics @derpyprentiss @olicia-leeshy @lookwhatyoumademequeue @veroinnumera @sarahkay-19 @sammles27 @lesbian-asajj @teatimewithtiya @braziliangirlonasharkcity @alienlynz @janam03 @nobravery @clockworkballerina

@whymesswperfection @hagridsmumhasgotitgoingon @brooke0297 @xxmaddhatter39xx @gurliest @handpaintedgalaxy @kxlley

@krazykendraisnotinsane @bat-crazydoll8 @hownottobeaheartbreaker @captainreid @beereadsthings @prettyboysjello @megsi98 @criminal-prentiss @eternaldarknessiscool

@loadingdelete

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orjamjam369 · 4 years ago

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먹튀검증사이트목록 Comps - How The System Works #3380

The game is also known in casinos in the United States. http://query.nytimes.com/search/sitesearch/?action=click&contentCollection®ion=TopBar&WT.nav=searchWidget&module=SearchSubmit&pgtype=Homepage#/샌즈카지노 The Company still exists today, having expanded its member ranks to include "card makers... card collectors, dealers, bridge players, [and] magicians". To play the progressive jackpot, drop a chip in the slot, which turns on the light for that seat for the duration of the current hand. In US casinos, the rules of Caribbean Stud Poker vary somewhat depending on where you are playing. Buy bets are placed with the shooter betting at a specific number will come out before a player sevens out.

Any four cards of the same rank. If two players share the same Four of a Kind (on the board), the bigger fifth card (the "kicker") decides who wins the pot. Out of print is the Sextet Bridge Deck (copyright Ralph E. Peterson 1964, 1966), produced for Secobra Cards by the United States Playing Card Company. Jacob Riis, in his famous book about the underbelly of New York, How the Other Half Lives (1890), wrote of entering a Chinatown fan-tan parlor: "At the first foot-fall of leather soles on the steps the hum of talk ceases, and the group of celestials, crouching over their game of fan tan, stop playing and watch the comer with ugly looks. In the early 1990s, Gonzalo Garcia-Pelayo believed that casino roulette wheels were not perfectly random, and that by recording the results and analysing them with a computer, he could gain an edge on the house by predicting that certain numbers were more likely to occur next than the 1-in-36 odds offered by the house suggested.

The bet to qualify for the jackpot for any particular hand is usually just $1, and it’s not connected to the stakes you’re playing in the game. Around 70% of every dollar goes into the progressive jackpot pool while the casino keeps the rest. At 5x odds table, the maximum amount the combined bet can win will always be 6x the amount of the Don't Pass bet. Keno payouts are based on how many numbers the player chooses and how many of those numbers are "hit", multiplied by the proportion of the player's original wager to the "base rate" of the paytable. We wish for the info to be clear and easily accessible so we have created this table that we can only hope will come in handy. Caribbean Stud Poker is a spin-off of a poker game and it comes – for diversity reasons – in a few variations that are very well suited for online play.

Today, Blackjack is the one card game that can be found in every American gambling casino. Card games are thought to have originated in China around the year 1000 CE. Often block-printed, early Chinese cards may have been used in addition to other game pieces such as dice. 2 or 12 (hi-lo): Wins if shooter rolls a 2 or 12. The stickman places this bet on the line dividing the 2 and 12 bets.Betting point numbers (which pays off on easy or hard rolls of that number) or single-roll ("hop") bets (e.g., "hop the 2–4" is a bet for the next roll to be an easy six rolled as a two and four) are methods of betting easy ways.

There are many variations of street craps. The simplest way is to either agree on or roll a number as the point, then roll the point again before you roll a seven. Players can bet any point number (4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10) by placing their wager in the come area and telling the dealer how much and on what number(s), "30 on the 6", "5 on the 5" or "25 on the 10". After taking influence from Edward O. Thorp and Lawrence Revere, Francesco invented the idea of Blackjack teams.The game is played with keeping the stream of balls to the left of the screen, but many models will have their optimized ball stream.

Casino is of Italian origin; the root casa means a house. The term casino may mean a small country villa, summerhouse, or social club.[1] During the 19th century, casino came to include other public buildings where pleasurable activities took place; such edifices were usually built on the grounds of a larger Italian villa or palazzo, and were used to host civic town functions, including dancing, gambling, music listening, and sports. Examples in Italy include Villa Farnese and Villa Giulia, and in the US the Newport Casino in Newport, Rhode Island. In modern-day Italian, a casino is a brothel (also called casa chiusa, literally "closed house"), a mess (confusing situation), or a noisy environment; a gaming house is spelt casinò, with an accent. It took forty-seven years before a second state, New Jersey, decided to allow casino gambling within its borders. It sounds like a sick joke straight out of Fallout: New Vegas, but it's true: starting in 1951, the U.S. Department of Energy began detonating more than one thousand test nukes just 65 miles northwest of Las Vegas, a scary spectacle that "turned night into day" and left mushroom clouds visible from casinos in the burgeoning tourist hotspot. 우리카지노계열 The 32 tiles in a Chinese dominoes set can be arranged into 16 pairs, as shown in the picture at the top of this article.

A complete bet places all of the inside bets on a certain number. Full complete bets are most often bet by high rollers as maximum bets. In addition, double-action cards have two numbers in each square. Eight rolled the hard way, as opposed to an "easy eight", is sometimes called an "eighter from Decatur".It is suggested that the differences arise due to the greater exposure of Macau residents to the influences of casino development.

The French card game trente et quarante (or rouge et noir) is played at Monte-Carlo and a few other continental casinos. Nearly 40 percent of the total tax revenue in the state of Nevada comes from gambling. When the player moved the handle on the machine, the reels spun randomly until they were slowed by stoppers within the machine.The legend goes something like this: in 1765, John Montagu, the fourth Earl of Sandwich, was such a huge gambler that he didn't want to leave the gaming table to eat.

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krishmanvith · 1 year ago

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princessknifefingers · 7 years ago

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Strawberry Rose

An Allydia fic (also on ao3)

Countess Lydia Martin stood beside a wide marble pillar in the ballroom, her face half-obstructed by her delicate, white lace fan as she surveyed the people gathered with her shrewd gaze. There was a heavy tension in the air, but the guests in attendance wore carefully crafted masks of coquettish smiles and demure glances, as though unaware of the political strife that hung like a thick fog around the hosts they gossiped about.

This was a Hale Ball. And while that was not unusual in itself, it was a particularly alluring party because the Argents, whom everyone knew to be the long time enemies of the Hales, but whom nobody had actually met yet, had been invited to this ball from their distant kingdom as a gesture of good intent while they had been shunned from all others. It was also rumored that young Prince Derek Hale was seeking to be wed soon, and was using this ball to sort his prospects.

Everyone who was anyone was at the Hale Ball tonight.

Prince Hale had yet to make his appearance, but Lydia was not concerned about him. While he was handsome, surely, and had a pleasant surliness she knew a lucky somebody would certainly appreciate, she was looking for someone of quite a different type for herself.

She allowed the pleasant trills of the string quartet playing in the corner of the room to flow over her as she lazily waved the fan at herself, watching as more guests filtered in. She recognized some instantly, and others, she knew not at all.

Baron Jackson Whittemore arrived, looking haughty and too self-important, dressed fittingly in a peacock green coat as he strutted in. Lydia frowned slightly, knowing that her own dress was a pale seafoam, and wondered, not for the first time, how Baron Whittemore, who seemed quite enamoured with Lydia, always managed to coordinate his attire to match the young Countess’s.

Lydia did not return his affections.

Earl Vernon Boyd and his Earless Erica followed shortly after, which was unsurprising as they were often early to Hale Balls, being close companions to Prince Hale as they were. They wore matching hues of indigo, Erica’s gown a fine silk, and the pair of them strolled briskly toward the large staircase at the end of the room where the three Hale siblings would no doubt soon be descending, fashionably late to their own party, as they often were.

Viscount Isaac Lahey made his appearance next, in cerulean, which complimented his eyes well. He spotted the Earl and Earless Boyd and made his way over to them quickly. Lydia gave the three of them little attention.

The next to enter was announced as Marquis Mieczyslaw Stilinski, whom the Countess had never heard of, and who appeared to be the first of the Argent party to arrive. He was dressed in a deep crimson ensemble of fine velvet that complimented his pale complexion. He had an upturned nose and a splattering of moles across his visage and a somewhat charming restless energy about him, but Lydia found her gaze passing to the next guest quite immediately, eager now to see what other new faces the tentative alliance with the Argents would bring.

It was announced that Comte Scott McCall was the next to arrive, shortly behind the Marquis Stilinski, and it was quite obvious that they were very close friends. Comte McCall had hair that was a bit longer than was fashionable and he wore a coffee colored outfit.

Lydia let out a small sigh of slight irritation. So far, only men and one woman who was already wed had arrived. She was growing tired of watching dull person after dull person enter the ballroom, taking notes on their attire so that she might gossip about who was fashionable and who was not at the next garden party or tea gathering she attended. Indeed, her life had been feeling dull for some time lately, her sharp mind agitated by the idle conversation of her peers, and she longed for a striking companion. Someone strong, impressive, but with a softness as well, and beautiful, of course. Like a rose, blossoming with delicate petals amongst powerful thorns.

Losing herself in her thoughts, the Countess was pulled from her contemplations by the announcement of the final arrivals of the Argent group. A pair of ladies entered the ballroom.

The first was announced as Duchesse Kathryn Argent, who seemed rather older than most in attendance for such a party, but was striking all the same. She had straight blonde hair that framed her face and she wore a dress of deepest violet, and she would have seemed quite beautiful had she not been standing beside the young lady that she entered with.

This beauty was announced as Princesse Allison Argent, and Lydia felt her breath catch and her heart palpitate as her eyes met the dark chocolate gaze that pierced her own from across the room. She was startled to find that she could not meet those eyes for long and swept her vision away, taking in the sight of long brunette curls. Her face had a pretty innocence about it, but a strength as well, and she held herself with a certain confidence and grace that might seem befitting of a deer, perhaps, if a deer could take the breath from the room with a single glance. The young woman was dressed in a pale lavender gown of silk that complimented the ensemble of her companion, and they made a stunning pair.

Lydia knew that it was Allison whom she would be conversing with for much of that night, though she knew many others would seek her attention. The game of the party had begun.

She scanned across the room from behind her fan, watching as other eyes flicked to the four members of the Argent party, as other guests picked their prey for the game of conversation. Lydia was not intimidated. Her gaze drifted back to the Argents, spotting Marquis Stilinski and Comte McCall laughing with each other, ignorant to the eyes that focused on them from all sides, Duchesse Argent peering around the room, obviously an experienced player of the game herself, and the Princesse still with her gaze set on Lydia.

Lydia slid her fan to the side and let a smile that was almost genuine cross her face, and watched with satisfaction as a pair of dimples and a small grin appeared upon the pretty visage of the young Argent maiden, before Princesse Argent cast her doe eyes downward. Lydia wondered if she was truly shy or if she was playing the game of glances.

The Countess folded her lace fan and gracefully held it at her side as she took a step forward, intending to mingle among the masses toward the Princesse and engage her in pleasant conversation. Her heart was beating quickly with anticipation in a way it never did at these balls, her mind racing with excitement at the thoughts of making a new acquaintance of such a lovely person. Information on the Argents was scarce. It was rumored that they had been allies with the Hales once long ago, but that some generations before they had had a falling out of sorts, and had been engaged in conflict ever since—never had a true battle broken out, but there had been several rumors of suspected espionage on both sides. It was tense.

It was no great leap of thought, then, to wonder if the Hales had invited the Argents to the ball in hopes that Prince Hale might select one of the young guests of their party as a prospect for his marriage, if this was indeed a pool for his selection as it was rumored to be. A true alliance between the kingdoms would finally put the tension at ease and could prevent the taking up of arms, which otherwise could be imminent.

He would have to choose someone other than the Princesse though, for Lydia had already decided to pursue her.

Lydia had only taken a few steps away from the pillar when the quartet paused in the song, then struck up the fanfare that signalled the entrance of the Hale siblings. Everyone stopped their conversation and turned toward the large staircase on one end of the room.

The staircase was grand, made of fine marble like the rest of the room, with golden railings. It was wider near the bottom where the railings flared forward and spiraled off, and it lead to a landing where there were two smaller staircases on either side, leading up to the higher levels of the castle where the Hales resided. It was from these smaller staircases that the Hales began their descent, the Prince from the one on the right by himself, and his two sisters, Princesses Laura and Cora, from the one on the left. They were attired in elegant black clothing, which was typical of the Hales, and matched their dark colored hair. Prince Hale wore his usual expression of disdain, while Princess Laura’s pale eyes twinkled in amusement. Princess Cora simply looked bored.

When their fine shoes graced the floor of the ballroom, stepping finally off the staircase, the fanfare ended and the quartet started up the revelry of the dance music once more. The guests turned back to one another, commenting on the handsomeness of the royal siblings, while Earl and Earless Boyd approached Prince Hale, and the Princesses began to politely mingle.

Lydia slid her gaze to the Argents once again, and saw that Baron Whittemore was in conversation with Marquis Stilinski and Comte McCall, and must have been making an ass of himself, for the laughter that they had been wearing so easily earlier was stricken off their faces. Instead, they looked to be slightly angry. Duchesse Argent had a hungry, calculating gaze set on Prince Hale, which was not surprising to Lydia in the slightest.

The Princesse Argent was smiling her pretty dimpled smile, currently in conversation with Viscount Lahey, which was somewhat of a surprise. Viscount Lahey always greeted Prince Hale first and foremost at these parties, for it was known that he was a good companion to the Prince, and that the Prince sought the company of his friends more than the company of the masses.

Lydia made her way through the crowd to the other side of the ballroom, reaching the Argent party with swift confidence.

“Viscount Lahey,” she greeted with a sharp smile, “Princesse Argent,” she continued, her smile softening slightly as she looked up into those deep, beautiful eyes again, watching with delight as a soft pink blush graced the other woman’s cheeks. The Princesse was quite a height taller than the Countess, which she did not mind at all, as she found that most people were taller than her. “I trust your travel has treated you well?”

“Countess Martin,” Viscount Lahey responded before Princesse Argent could reply, his voice carrying an edge of displeasure to it, although usually he was more or less indifferent to Lydia, “I see you have grown weary of your astute observing and have decided to join the party.”

Lydia raised her eyebrows, but otherwise showed no offense to Viscount Lahey’s boldness. “I was simply admiring the views of the estate,” she explained with an air of casualness, keeping her eyes locked on Princesse Argent’s gaze, “It is quite pleasurable tonight.”

Princesse Argent gave a small laugh and brought her hand up to her mouth, finally looking away quickly toward the ground. “It is a nice castle,” she said, “Many beautiful sights indeed.” Her eyes slowly drifted back to look into Lydia’s. Lydia took a deep breath. She extended her free hand.

“Would you care to dance, Princesse Argent?” she asked boldly, her voice soft but sure. She knew what she wanted, and she could sense the desire already blooming between them. It was pointless to wait, especially when so many others would be seeking a conversation. Viscount Lahey looked aghast, but was silent.

The Princesse parted her lips in an expression of slight surprise, but quickly her expression changed to one of quiet amusement and intense intrigue. She glanced for a moment at Duchesse Argent, but the other woman was already gone, making her way across the room toward the Hales. Princesse Argent placed her hand in Lydia’s hand and gave a sure nod. “Yes, I would love to, Countess,” she spoke.

Lydia’s smile widened. Before they turned to the dance floor, she turned toward Baron Whittemore and the two men from the Argent party.

“Baron Whittemore,” she greeted, not giving him a chance to reply when he turned to her, “Hold this for me.” She placed her lace fan in his hand, knowing he would do anything she asked. As she suspected, he furrowed his brow and took the fan, grimacing as he noticed the Princesse’s hand in Lydia’s own. “And stop making a fool of yourself.” With that, she turned briskly toward the dance floor, Princesse Argent trailing behind her.

The quartet just started up a new song when they stepped onto the dance space, taking position for the waltz. Lydia kept up a confident air, although she felt much less like herself beneath her façade of sureness. She took Princesse Argent’s hands into her own, feeling the soft warmth of them against her skin, and stepped in time with her, their breath mingling as they came close together as the dance continued. Lydia could almost see the sparks flying between them as her heart continued to pound in her chest, her stomach swooping each time the dance steps required them to move their bodies close together, nearly touching in their closeness. She could tell Princesse Argent could feel it too, for she was no longer smiling, but instead looking at Lydia with an intensity in her dark eyes.

When the song ended, both of them slightly out of breath, Princesse Argent lead Lydia off the dance floor to the edge of the room, beside another pillar. They still held hands.

For several moments, the pair continued to stand in silence. They did not look at each other any longer, but their hands gripped each other, and Lydia could feel Princesse Argent’s pulse through her fingers, delicate but quick, excited as her own. She glanced about the room to distract herself from the intensity of the moment, noticing that Duchesse Argent had cornered Prince Hale and that he looked quite disinterested about it. Instead, his gaze flickered to Marquis Stilinski, who was gesticulating largely while explaining something to Earl and Earless Boyd, both of whom looked quite amused by his antics.

Lydia was pulled from her thoughts and observations by a featherlight touch on her arm. She turned to Princesse Argent, who gave her a small, shy smile. The other girl seemed to take a deep breath to embolden herself. “Would you care for a stroll in the garden, Countess?” she asked.

Lydia returned her smile with complete sincerity.

“Yes,” she replied.

They were silent once more when they first exited the castle. The summer air was warm and pleasant around them, the crescent moon reflected in the fountained pond in the center of the gardens, around which the flowery plants were carefully landscaped. It was not a particularly large garden, but it was not very small, either. A few other guests walked along the paths as well, enjoying the fresh night atmosphere.

Lydia glanced up at Princesse Argent to find her looking down at her, and she grinned and looked away again, then linked their arms together. She lead the other lady down one of the farther paths, toward the back of the pond, where the roses grew. Lanterns had been lit to guide the way, and Lydia could make out the different colors of the flowers in the dim light. Red, white, pink, and orange, and mixes of them all.

She leaned toward an orange and pink rose and picked it from the bush, holding it out to the Princesse.

“This is my favorite kind of rose,” Lydia explained, “and roses are my favorite kind of flower. They are so strong and resilient, yet beautiful and soft. I would like you to have this,” she felt an uncharacteristic blush rising to her face and began to feel a little foolish, “for I feel it is almost as pretty as you, Princesse Argent.”

Princesse Argent blushed deeply and brought the rose to her face, inhaling deeply. “Please, Countess. Call me Allison. I would like for us to become...friends,” she said gently.

“Alright, Allison. You may call me Lydia.”

“Lydia…” Allison unlinked their arms and turned toward Lydia so they were facing each other, and her expression turned more serious. “I know we have just met, but I feel something so deep when I look at you. You are a very striking person.”

“You are just as striking,” Lydia replied, reaching out to hold both of Allison’s hands in her own. “Allison,” she continued, her voice a little louder as she built herself up for what she was about to say next, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?” She knew she was being incredibly bold, but she could not stop herself, feeling emboldened by the energy between them, the heat of the dance still sparking in her veins.

Allison’s gorgeous eyes widened before a smile graced her lips. “You continue to surprise me.” Her smile turned slightly sly. She pretended to contemplate the question for a few moments, which seemed to stretch on eternally to Lydia, before she finally replied, “You may kiss me.”

Before Lydia could react, Allison leaned forward and pressed her pink lips against Lydia’s painted red ones. Lydia widened her eyes before sweeping them closed, letting out a soft sound of pleasure and sliding her hands forward from where they gripped Allison’s hands to run along her arms, then up into her brown curls while Allison slipped her own hands around the other girl’s waist, still holding the rose in one hand. Her lips were soft but sure, warm and pleasant, and Lydia moved her own lips against them, and was pleased when Allison enthusiastically parted her own lips in response.

Lydia took the opportunity to slip her tongue inside, licking into the other girl’s mouth and smiling against her lips when she drew out a soft moan from the brunette. They continued to kiss with intense passion, Allison’s free hand gripping tightly onto her dress, until they both had to pull away to breathe, their breaths coming in and out in quick puffs.

“That was amazing,” Allison commented, a little breathlessly.

Lydia could only nod in agreement. She roamed her gaze over the other woman, taking in the sight of her, noting the wildness of her hair from the way Lydia’s hands had been tangling in the curls, and the redness of her lips. Lydia was sure she looked just as debauched. She ran a useless hand through the other girl’s hair, trying to give her a look of propriety once more. If they returned to the party like this, everyone would know what they had done.

Lydia was not sure she even cared. Let the masses gossip.

Still catching her breath, Lydia slowly slid her hands out from Allison’s hair and smoothed them down her dress instead, while Allison pulled her hands away from Lydia’s waist, clutching the rose, smiling brightly and letting out a small, beautiful laugh. The pair met eyes again, then suddenly looked away, the glance too heated after what they had just done.

“Allison,” Lydia began after a few moments of silence, “I must know, when are you planning to return to your kingdom?”

The brunette gave a knowing smile. “I am hoping to remain in Beacon Hills for at least this season, although I may not return for even some time after that,” she replied.

Lydia returned the other lady’s expression. “Then, dear Princesse, I would like to formally invite you to join me for tea tomorrow afternoon at my estate.”

“That would be lovely,” Allison responded.

Lydia took one of Allison’s hands in her own, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of it and guided her back to the castle. Lydia felt no shame for what she had done, walking with her back straight as Allison held the rose between her fingers, placing the petals to her lips, displaying the romantic gift to the guests of the party as she walked back inside. The pair felt the gazes upon them, some surprised, some jealous, some happy, some indifferent, but they ignored them all.

Duchesse Argent was seething beside one of the pillars, but her anger seemed directed towards something other than Lydia and Allison. Indeed, she was ignoring the pair. Marquis Stilinski was nowhere to be found, and neither was Prince Hale, while Comte McCall was in a dance with Viscount Lahey, the both of them looking very content.

Lydia brought Allison to the Duchesse’s side and kissed the brunette’s hand, smiling when the action brought a blush to her dimpled cheeks.

“I await you tomorrow,” she said in a near-whisper. Allison nodded, and their hands lingered in each other’s clutches for a time until Lydia finally slipped away, maneuvering through the dwindling crowd of bodies toward the front entrance of the castle, for the night was getting later and while the dances were still well in motion, some guests were beginning to tire and felt it was time to depart.

Lydia felt, for the first time in quite a long awhile, true anticipation. She entered her gilded carriage and could not stop herself from smiling at the thought of the coming day and what it might bring.

#femslashfebruary2018 #allydia #fanfiction #3k #historical au #royalty au #idk if my followers will like this #but i do not care #i cant post this to my sterek blog because it is not sterek lol #enjoy

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