#good morning camp mary bell

[chnt-podcast-daily]

Hello Campers!

This is a daily blog posting one paragraph (or however much I think is appropriate for one post) of Camp Here & There a day.

Posts are made 12 PM EST

This blog is inspired by @the-magnus-archives-daily, and @night-vale-daily

My main is @pixlelixr, and I have two other daily blogs @hawaii-part-ii-daily, and @dinosaurchestra-daily-lyric. You can call me Esper ooc & I use they/them pronouns.

Most of this blog will be in character as someone named Elliot Orion-Asterion. He is genderfluid and uses all pronouns including neos and xenos.

I will answer asks in character unless specificity asked not to be. I also can offer mediation sessions between you and another person. Just tag yourself and the other person and explain your issue, as Elliot will try to resolve it. Good Morning Camp Mary Bell will go on until school starts up again.

I will main tag but only using the #chnt tag

daily posts will use the tag #chnt podacst daily

not daily posts/Elliot lore will use the tag #elliot is making an announcement

mediation posts will be tagged #chnt mediation posts

Good Morning posts will be tagged #good morning camp mary bell

thank you for reading :)

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 17

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to save the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Word count: 3.9k

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well), she/her pronouns

Note: An important part of this chapter is inspired by the wonderful and talented @pyersiki and their post <3

The next morning you feel lighter than ever and there is a certain spring to your step. A wide grin is glued to your face and it only gets bigger everytime you recall the events from last night. Sitting by the campfire with Arthur and having his arm wrapped around you is about the only thing you can think of at the moment.

"Someone's happy.", you hear Mary-Beth say with a smile. She's sitting comfortably on her bedroll, an opened novel in her lap. Her brown locks fall elegantly around her face, framing her soft features.

Karen isn't too far away either and she places her hands on her hips as she eyes you with a knowing smirk. "'Course she is! Shoulda seen her gettin' all cozy with Arthur last night durin' the party."

"Oh, I saw that, alright.", Mary-Beth confirms and clasps her hand over her mouth to mask the giggle escaping her. "I knew it from the start that they was sweet on one another."

The two women's teasing makes the heat rise up to your face and you shake your head in disbelief. You know better than to indulge their banter and you wave your hand at them. "As lovely as it is chatting with you, I gotta go now."

"Aw, don't be like that! Tell us all the juicy details at least!", Karen yells after you, but you ignore her completely. Yes, last night's actions confirmed that there is more going on between you and the outlaw, other than pure platonic feelings.

It also kind of feels like that his public show of affection kind of established something, but you don't want to jump to any conclusions. As official as it feels right now, you don't want to set any rumors free into the world as long as you haven't talked to him about what exactly you are.

Leaving camp was also not an excuse to get out of that uncomfortable conversation. Yesterday you didn't have the opportunity to get engravings for your new weapon and so you thought it would be good to get it done now. After Jack's return and the party, everyone is kind of slow and lazy today, so you won't be missed too much.

Mounting Penthesilea, you leave the camp and ride through the heavy morning fog. With this weather, it will take longer to reach the city, but that also means that there might not be too many people on the road.

So far it does look very empty and everything seems peaceful until you spot two men on the side of the road who are headed into the trees. Usually you wouldn't pay them any mind, but the green bandana around their necks makes your inner alarm bells ring.

Sure, any and every fool can wear that ugly shade, but you've never seen it on common folk. The wet dirt road dampens the sound of your horse's hooves and thanks to the fog, they haven't noticed you passing by. There is a slim chance that these men are just two ordinary people, but you want to make sure. Just in case.

You hitch Penthesilea at one of the trees and follow them on foot. The crouched position you're in makes your thigh muscles burn and your back cramp up slightly, but you fight through the pain.

"I just don't understand why we couldn't have ambushed them last night.", one of them says in a thick Irish accent. So they are O'Driscolls, but what are they doing here in Lemoyne? This isn't their territory at all.

"You heard the boss. We was to only get that two-faced traitor.", the other responds and you watch him disappear between the shrubs, leaving his partner behind. "I'll just take a piss."

"For Christ's sake.", the first one mutters aggravated and walks a few steps away from your hiding spot. Their words spin around in your head. Obviously they are talking about ambushing Dutch and the gang, but you have no idea who the traitor could be.

That's when you remember that you in fact do have a former O'Driscoll with you and now that you think about it, you don't remember seeing him after the party. Usually he's one of the first people to be up and about in the morning. We'll, there is only one way to find out.

Quietly you take your gun out of your holster and sneak up behind the first man. You ram the handle of your pistol into the back of his head and he falls into the mud with a wet sound.

One down, another to go.

"What the hell?!" You whip your body around, facing the man who re-apeared from the bushes without you noticing. While he fumbles to get the gun out of his holster, you lift the Volcanic and pull the trigger.

It's a clean shot through his chest and he comes down to his knees with a gurgling sound emanating from his throat. You really hope that no one has heard the gun shot, but there's no one living close by and the roads are quite empty today anyways.

Quickly you jog back to Penthesilea to get a rope and return to tie the unconscious O'Driscoll to one of the trees. You have to take care of the body as well, but that will have to wait. With a slap with the back of your hand, you wake the O'Driscoll up and he gasps.

"Fuckin' hell-" His words die down in his throat as you point the barrel of your pistol right between his eyes.

"What did you assholes do in our camp last night?", you ask, your voice cold and controlled. His gaze is fixed on your gun and he bares his teeth like a dog.

"None of your damn business.", he snarls and you strike him with your weapon. The man grunts in pain and blood runs down his face from the now open wound on his eyebrow. Your patience is wearing thin and you're not sure if you have the stomach to full on torture him.

Hopefully he will spill the answers willingly before it has to come to that. "I won't ask again."

The man's chest rises and falls heavily as he pants and he glares hateful daggers at you. A sigh escapes your lips as you step aside so he can have a clear view on his dead partner. A dark red puddle is beginning to form under him.

"Your friend over here also refused to give me answers.", you lie. Maybe intimidating him by threatening with death will do the trick. Anything is welcome as long as you don't have to take more violent and drastic measures. His eyes go wide once they fall on the other man and he shakes his head hastily.

"We was only to kidnap one man! That's all!", he cries out in panic and you push the barrel of your gun harshly against his temple.

"Kidnap who?"

"K-Kieran! Kieran Duffy!"

So you remember correctly! He indeed wasn't anywhere at the camp this morning. A sting of guilt pierces your chest at the fact that you didn't notice it sooner, but then again, the others didn't catch wind of it either. It's no use to beat yourself up over this right now though. What you need to focus on is getting him back.

"Where are you keeping him?", you ask, your gaze fixed on the man under you.

"I don't know!", he exclaims, rather desperate. Too desperate to be convincing and your expression turns sour. "And even if, he's probably dead by now or at least wishes that he is!"

"Don't play stupid with me now, boy. Do you wanna end up with a bullet in your head?" It's as if the words that are coming out of your mouth aren't yours, as if someone else is speaking through you. You're spending way too much time with outlaws.

To give your threat more weight, you disable the safety of your pistol and a high pitched click can be heard from it. The sound makes the O'Driscoll flinch and all resistance crumbles away like ashes being carried away by the wind. "Okay, okay, okay!"

He drops the location of their camp, including the exact spot Kieran is being held at and how many men are guarding him. This moron proves himself pretty cooperative with the right motivation.

Just as you're sliding your gun back into the holster and turn to walk away, he yells for you. "You can't just leave me here! Untie me!"

Letting him go would be a mistake. He'd either ambush you or run straight back to the others to warn them and then all your hard work was for nothing. But you don't want to kill him. It's your personal rule to only do that in self defense and well, he's tied up.

If you just leave him at the tree, then he will scream and curse until someone finds him which probably won't take too long. This spot is quite close to the road after all. After contemplating it for a few seconds, you grab a handkerchief from your pocket and shove it deep into his throat. He throws his head from side to side in a futile attempt to stop you.

The man let's out muffled grunts as you walk back to Penthesilea and you hoist yourself up onto the saddle. If anything he said is true, then you don't think you have the time to ride back to camp and get a group together to join you on your rescue mission. Knowing the O'Driscolls, they don't tend to show mercy, so you have to act fast.

You signal your horse to ride towards the location the man told you about and truly, there is a fire burning. It seems to be a camp and you hitch Penthesilea at one of the trees nearby. Finding yourself in a crouched position once again, you sneak closer, keeping watch for anyone coming your way.

Soon enough, you spot Kieran tied to a tree with his hands on his back and his head hanging down. It doesn't look like he's awake or maybe he's simply too weak to keep his head up. That's when you notice the alarming amount of dried up blood on his white shirt and your heart picks up in pace.

Thankfully, the fog provides more than enough cover, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to do this during daytime and you really didn't like the prospect of having to wait until nightfall. With a hunting knife in your hand, you begin to cut through the thick rope and Kieran finally lifts his head.

"What...?", he mutters and looks around until he sees you. A shiver runs down your spine the moment you catch a glimpse of his face and your mouth stands open in shock. One eye of his is completely missing and you fight down the urge to let out a startled yelp.

"Oh, what have these animals done to you?", you whisper horrified and you force your attention back to cutting him free. It only takes a couple seconds, but to you it feels more like several minutes.

Every muscle in your body is tensed up and your heart is practically beating in your throat. If you get caught now...quickly, you shake off these thoughts and grab Kieran's wrist to wrap his arm around your shoulders. While he leans on you as support, you stumble back to Penthesilea, undetected.

"You really came for me?", Kieran asks breathlessly in disbelief and you bite down on the inside of your cheek. You leave the fact that you didn't even notice his absence at first, unspoken.

"Of course.", is all you manage to bring out instead and you both climb ontop of your horse's back.

He clings to your coat like a lifeline and sways around so much that you have to be careful with speeding up. If you go too fast, he might just fall off. After a while, the silence becomes too unbearing for you and you ask the question that's been bugging you this entire ride. "How did they even get to you?"

Kieran doesn't respond at first and for a moment there you worry that he actually did fall off somewhere along the road. "I ain't so sure. I was piss drunk durin' the party last night."

You nod to yourself when hearing his words. You recall how later that night he came up to Arthur, telling him how happy he is to be a part of the gang. It makes you feel all the more guilty for not noticing that he was missing this morning.

People throw you puzzled looks as you get close to Shady Belle and enter the camp. Kieran almost slides off Penthesilea and you have to offer both your hands to him to help him down. Steps can be heard approaching you from behind and once the man is down, you turn around.

"My goodness, what happened?", Mary-Beth gasps in worry, but her expression quickly turns into one of horror the moment she gets a proper look at Kieran's face.

"Get bandages from Strauss' wagon and bring us some water.", you order without answering her question and bring Kieran to his tent.

As Mary-Beth returns with the things, more people join around you in curiosity and concern. Bill is the first to speak up. "What the hell happened to him?"

"The O'Driscolls got him last night. Overheard two of them talking on my way to Saint Denis.", you tell him over your shoulder as you focus on treating the man's eye or rather the lack of it.

"The O'Driscolls were here?", Javier exclaims, almost in disgust and hisses some insults and cursewords under his breath.

After your work is done, you get up from your position and go wash your hands in a barrel filled with water. Soon Dutch takes notice of the commotion outside and steps out of the house, demanding to know what's going on. You fill him in on what happened from when you left camp to now and he nods with a grim look on his face.

"That poor bastard.", he comments with his gaze set on Kieran's tent. Most of the people have left to give him some space, but others like Mary-Beth are staying behind, watching over him. "You did good bringin' him back to us. Well done."

"Thanks." Your answer comes out short and you place your hands on the edge of the barrel, observing your reflexion. The woman staring back at you has dark rings around her eyes and a few blood splatters across her face. It's like looking at a stranger.

A new presence shows up beside you, less welcoming than Dutch's and you don't even want to turn your head in their direction. Micah leans with his back against the wall of the large house and spits on the ground. "Ain't you the hero of the day again?"

"What do you want, Micah?", you ask, wanting to sound irritated or at least mildly annoyed, but there is nothing besides exhaustion in your voice. The man snorts.

"Ain't it funny how you somehow always manage to arrive right on time? Somethin' goes to shit and you're right there to save the day. Ain't that convenient?" His words are oozing with both venom and suspicion and you close your heavy eyes.

"Are you trying to say something or are you just talking nonsense?" A voice inside your head is telling you to back off, that this isn't a battle you should be fighting, but you're tired.

The energy from this morning has left you entirely by now and this conversation is only making things worse for you. Micah raises his hands and pushes himself off the wall. "Nah, just statin' what I'm seein', is all."

With these words he finally leaves you alone and you make your way to your tent. Perhaps your accomplishment of bringing back a gang member from the clutches of the O'Driscoll will get people off your back. That way you could rest for an hour or so without anyone complaining.

Before you even make it to your bedroll, you hear the quick sound of hooves approaching and you look up to see Arthur, Miss Grimshaw and Tilly. The first two look quite angry and so does Tilly, but she seems to be a bit shaken up as well.

Curiosity gets the better of you and your legs carry you to the small group. "What happened?"

"Anthony Foreman, that bastard.", Tilly snarls, spitting her words out like venom. You remember her mentioning him and his gang a while ago, telling you that she used to ride with them. She didn't say how they fell out, only that it happened.

"They took her.", Miss Grimshaw adds and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. This is the second abduction for today and you shake your head at the realization. Seems like getting kidnapped is more common in this line of work than ending up with a bullet in your chest.

It also seems like the security around here should be improved. No way should this many gangs be able to just waltz in here and snatch people away without anyone catching wind of it. Your worried gaze is set on Tilly and you pull her into a hug. "I'm happy that you got out of there."

"Me too...me too.", she mutters in a low voice and slowly pulls away from the embrace.

As the two women make their way towards the tents, you feel Arthur's warm hand on your back. "You don't look too well."

A dry laugh escapes you and you give him a smirk that doesn't reach your eyes. "Well, aren't you a charmer?"

Your response earns a low chuckle from him and he starts rubbing circles on your back. "You know that wasn't what I meant." Of course you know, but you have no idea where to begin.

You repeat to him what you've been telling everyone else, but intentionally leave out the last bit with Micah. There is no reason to pit Arthur against the man at the moment and you'd appreciate a little break.

Being as exhausted as you are makes you feel bad. Kieran is the one who got kidnapped and not you. He went through a shit ton of pain and you don't feel like you deserve to feel this tired. A sigh escapes your lips as you rub your eyes with the palm of your hand.

"You should lay down." Arthur's words get another dry chuckle out of you and you shake your head. Yes, it was your plan to lay down on your bedroll, but you don't know how much rest that will bring you with everyone being out and about. "I don't know if I can."

"How about a bed? A real one.", the outlaw suggests and you raise your eyebrow in disbelief as if he just told you a dumb joke.

"I don't really feel like booking a hotel room just for a nap is a good idea.", you answer and cross your arms infront of your chest.

He takes off his hat, revealing his hazel colored hair and runs a hand through it. "I was thinkin' that you could use mine."

Now that comes as a surprise to you and your arms fall down to your sides, but you catch yourself quickly. A teasing smirk begins to take form on your lips. "Mr. Morgan! Are you trying to get under my skirt?"

Barking laughter erupts from his throat and he raises his hands in defence. "That weren't what I meant. I thought maybe you'd wanna rest in it, away from all the noise."

His offer is sweet and you're about to take it as well until Karen walks up to you from the side with some paper in her hand. "I got a letter from Mary Linton here."

"Mary?", Arthur asks in disbelief and goes to grab the letter, but Karen snatches it away. Both you and the outlaw look at her with puzzled expressions which only intensifies after she holds it out to you instead.

"It's for me?", you confirm with furrowed brows and slowly take the letter from her, afraid she might snatch it away again. When she doesn't, you read the name on the envelope and yes. It is in fact addressed to you.

As Karen leaves, Arthur steps closer to you, searching for your gaze. His eyes keep flickering from you to the letter and then back to you. "What does Mary want from you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I saw her the other day in Saint Denis."

"She's in Saint Denis?", he exclaims, almost interrupting you and runs his hand over his beard. "When?"

You study him thoroughly, trying to read the meaning behind his tone and expression, but you can't decipher it. Clearly he's quite floored, but you can't tell if it's in a good or bad way. "Right after you left the gunsmith. Her and I went for a drink."

"So y'all are friends now? Since when?"

His question makes you take a step back and the corners of your mouth curl up. "Are you worried or something?"

Arthur's answer comes shooting out like a bullet and it's as clear as daylight that he did not intend to do that. "No!" He takes a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and putting on a casual mask. "'Course not. I don't care 'bout the company you keep."

"Sure." You drag out the word as long as you can, you're voice oozing with sarcasm. Then your gaze falls on the letter in your hand again. "Do you want to know what's in there?"

It's obvious that he's beyond curious about the contents of her letter. It's written all over him, but much to your surprise, he shakes his head. "No, 's alright. This is your business and I won't stick my nose into it. Not more than I already do."

"I'm serious, Arthur. I really wouldn't mind."

"I'm serious too." His features are relaxed, not betraying a single thought or emotion. His eyes on the other hand tell a different story. You can see that there's a conflict within him, but can you blame him? You too would be quite stunned if an ex of yours would suddenly write to him.

Mainly because they exist several years in the future from now and it would be quite the astonishing news, finding out that they can travel through time as well. Arthur places his hat back on his head and tips it in your direction. "I'll leave ya to it then."

Before you can even think of protesting, he walks away and with a sigh you go to find a quiet spot to read. The handwriting inside is just as delicate as the one on the envelope and your eyes trail over the words.

My dear friend,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to thank you again for helping me with Jamie and for the nice chat we had at the saloon. It was very kind of you to walk me back to the hotel. I just wish that the reason for this letter was a happier one.

You might have noticed during our conversation that something was troubling  me and seeing how you handled the drunk man made me want to confide in you. I am certain that you're very capable and can handle yourself.

I am afraid that we have got ourselves into another mess. It's not my fault, but I need your help. Could you meet me at Hotel Grand when you have the time?

Sincerely,

Mary

Taglist: @shackspossum @abducted-cowz @heloixe

[delilaahh9]

Fitting In!

September 13th, 2023

September, Early Morning – U.S. National Team Camp, Plymouth, Michigan

Gemma Smith took a deep breath as she stepped off the bus. The crisp Michigan air hit her face, and the familiar scent of fresh ice and locker rooms swirled around her. It was her first day with the U.S. National Team, and she had to admit, she was a little overwhelmed. She had dreamt of this moment for so long, but now that it was finally happening, it felt surreal.

She adjusted the strap on her bag, trying to look calm and composed, but her heart was racing in her chest. Her eyes scanned the area, taking in the large rink where the team would practice and the other players scattered around, warming up or chatting in small groups.

As she walked towards the entrance of the arena, she noticed the team was a mixture of familiar faces and new ones—some guys she had watched play, others she had only heard of. And then there was the quiet knowledge in the back of her mind: she was still the only girl on the team.

Gemma was used to it—after all, she’d always been one of the few girls in hockey��but this felt different. This wasn’t just another club or junior team; this was the national stage.

Before she could step into the locker room, a familiar voice called out.

“Gemma?”

She froze, the sound of her name ringing a bell. She turned and saw Cole, one of her old teammates from Shattuck-St. Mary’s, standing just outside the rink, wearing his Team USA tracksuit. His expression lit up with recognition as he waved at her.

“No way! Cole?” she exclaimed, walking over with a smile. It had been a couple of years since they’d played together, but it felt like no time had passed. They had spent their high school years at Shattuck together, pushing each other during practices and bonding over their shared experience.

“Gemma!” He grinned, pulling her into a quick hug. “I had no idea you were joining the team! This is awesome!”

“I know, right?” she said, her grin wide. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot to take in, but you’re gonna do great. The team’s been solid so far,” Cole said with a reassuring smile. “You’re gonna fit right in.”

“I hope so,” she said, trying to push down the nerves. “You know how it is. Being the only girl can be… a little overwhelming sometimes.”

Cole’s eyes softened, understanding the weight of her words. “Trust me, I get it. But don’t worry. These guys are all cool. They’ve got your back.”

Before she could respond, someone else called out to Cole from across the rink. A tall guy with shaggy blonde hair waved him over.

“Hey, Cole, let’s get it going!” he shouted, motioning toward the rest of the team.

Cole nodded, turning back to Gemma. “Alright, I gotta go, but let’s catch up later. You good?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling a little more genuinely now. “Thanks, Cole.”

“Anytime. You know where to find me,” Cole said, winking as he jogged off to join the team.

Gemma stood there for a second, letting the conversation sink in. It felt good to see a familiar face—especially someone who had been through the same type of challenges she had. It reminded her she wasn’t totally alone in this.

She took a breath, adjusted the strap on her bag, and made her way into the locker room.

Later that Day – U.S. National Team Practice

After the initial meeting with the coaches, everyone was geared up and ready to go. Gemma was trying to stay calm, but her mind was racing. She had been part of competitive teams before, but this—this was the big leagues. Team USA.

As she entered the ice rink with the rest of the players, she could already feel the tension, the desire to prove herself. Despite the familiarity of skating, something about being here, skating with the best, made her feel like an outsider.

But then, she noticed Cole again, already skating by the boards and waiting for the team to start drills. He caught her eye and waved with a grin, silently assuring her that she wasn’t alone in this.

The practice began, and Gemma focused all her energy on keeping up. She couldn’t let her nerves show. As she zipped around the ice, she kept her head low, taking in the rhythm of the drills and the energy of her teammates.

And then, she heard a voice behind her.

“Hey, Smith!”

Gemma glanced over her shoulder to see James Hagens skating up beside her. His relaxed expression was a stark contrast to the intensity around them, but his voice was warm and friendly.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his tone casual as if they’d known each other for years instead of minutes.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, trying to sound confident. “Just trying to stay out of the way.”

“Pfft, don’t worry about that. The guys are good about making sure no one gets left behind,” James said, giving her an encouraging wink. “Trust me, we’ll all help each other out.”

She smiled, feeling the tension in her shoulders relax just a little.

It wasn’t going to be easy—there was still that weight of being the only girl on the team—but between Cole and now James, she was starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, she belonged here after all.

[soggytapeworm]

blah blah blah summary

First Place (it gets a gold star):

Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally my beloved🫶🫶

Second Place (I might give it a participation trophy idk):

Against The Kitchen Floor

Everything Is A Lot:

0 songs left

13 songs eliminated (6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro / Con), ¡Aikido! (Neurotic / Erotic), White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?), Cover This Song (A Little Bit Mine), Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D., Red Moon, Lysergide Daydream, The First Step, Jimmy Mushrooms’ Last Drink: Bedtime in Wayne, NJ, Everything is a Lot, Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones), Front Street, Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture)

SELF-iSH:

0 songs left

8 songs eliminated (Self-, 2012, Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to the Fusiform Gyrus), -Ish, Cotard’s Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca), Dr. Sunshine Is Dead, Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In!, The Song with Five Names, a.k.a. Soapbox Tao, a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government, a.k.a. You Can Never Know)

The Normal Album:

1 song left (Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally (winner))

9 songs eliminated (2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.), I / Me / Myself, Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples, Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave, Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world, Love, Me Normally, …well, better than the alternative, BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA)

In Case I Make It:

0 songs left

16 songs eliminated (Tomcat Disposables, Becoming the Lastnames, Euthanasia, Falling Up, Um, it’s Kind of a Lot, Half-Decade Hangover, You Liked This (Okay, Computer!), The Main Character, Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll, Big Fat Bitchie’s Blueberry Pie, Christmas Tree, and Recreational Jell-o Emporium a.k.a. “Mr. Boy is on the Roof Again” (Feat. Pasta by Sneakers McSqueakers) [From “B.F.B.’s B-Sides: Bagel Batches, Marsh-Mallows, & Barsh-Mallows”], Willard!, White Noise, Vampire Reference in a Minor Key, Cicada Days, Against The Kitchen Floor (more like uhh LOSER!!))

Camp Here & There:

0 songs left

13 songs eliminated (Welcome to Camp Here & There, Morning Announcements, Venetian Blind Man (Song), Good Morning, Campers!, The Rhumba of Death, Yes, to Err is Human, So Don’t Be One. (Song), Under A Technicolor Sky, Afternoon Announcements, Under A Monochromatic Sky, Evening Announcements, When Somebody Needs You, Your Body, My Temple)

Others:

0 songs left

6 songs eliminated (Misanthrapologist, …And If I Did, You Deserved It., Ferryman, Wealth & Hellness, Alma Mater, Mr. Fregoli and the Diathesis-Stress Supermodel, Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Con (An Untitled Track))

[allzelemonz]

Found Alive: Kieran Duffy X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/Violence, death Warnings: Reader commits murder three times, implied future murder, implied torture, kidnapping, beating, reference to the Night Folk, non-cannon compliant, Kieran lives, trauma and coping, the gang cares about Kieran Summary: Kieran disappears from Shady Bell. You’re not about to let him stay away, neither are a few others in the gang.

One member of the gang found, another missing. Jack returned with a party and everyone was too drunk or busy celebrating to notice the disappearance of the former O’Drsicoll. Usually he comes to your tent in the morning, still too shy to share a bedroll with you, but this morning he didn’t. Mary-Beth noticed something similar. She’s been helping Kieran read and they usually get through a page before breakfast. He never showed. You and her approached Dutch and asked if he’d finally allowed him to go on a job. He didn’t. Mary-Beth asked around camp and turned up nothing while you looked over his usual sleeping place and found equal amounts of nothing.

He wouldn’t just leave like this. He was finally starting to fit in and make friends. He started his relationship with you just a few days ago. It’s not just that either. Even if he was pretending, even if he was just waiting to run, he wouldn’t leave Branwen. He loves horses, that horse especially, and he’s just standing with the others in the morning sun.

“Maybe somebody took him.” Mary-Beth says.

You hold out an oatcake for Branwen. He’s been getting nervous without Kieran around, like he knows something is wrong.

“Who could take him?” You sigh. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Mister Morgan told me about some folks out here.” She shakes her head. “Scary folks.”

You shake your head. “I’ve seen them. They wouldn’t come all the way over here. Not with all of us and our guns.”

Mary-Beth gasps. “You don’t think the O’Driscolls found us?”

You tense up, freezing in the middle of patting Branwen. “I’m gonna talk to Dutch.”

Dutch allows you to go looking for Kieran, letting you prompt the others but not forcing anyone to help. In the end, it’s you, Mary-Beth, Bill, Javier, Arthur, and Hosea. Javier and Mary-Beth go West, Bill and Hosea go North, and you and Arthur scour the surrounding swamps. You all agree to tackle Saint Denis together, meeting at the saloon with whatever you find.

The swamps don’t show anything promising. The occasional reptile, but that’s it. Arthur has no desire to be here past the afternoon. You don’t blame him. The swaps are creepy, full of things that shouldn’t exist. Once you’ve combed through everything you ride to the saloon to meet the others. They’re already there, standing among the horses and going over the immense nothing that they found. As you and Arthur hitch your horses you hear a loud crash from the alleyway.

“Goodness.” Mary-Beth jumps at the noise.

Javier puts his hand on his gun and peers down the alley. You follow, Arthur behind you. There’s three men with a familiar green wrapped around their faces, all trying to get another man to his feet. It’s Kieran.

Arthur steps forward and raises his gun. “You boys really are stupid.”

Javier and you join him, guns raised at the O’Driscolls. The others rush to see what’s happening and raise their guns as well. With six guns aimed at them, the O’Driscolls put their hands up and back away.

You rush for Kieran, kneeling beside him and checking for injuries.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya bastards.” Bill calls, stepping forward with Javier.

They pass you, Arthur joining them as they each take an O’Driscoll. Mary-Beth and Hosea join you in helping Kieran up. He’s barely conscious, but alive. He has a few bruises, a black eye, and busted lip, but he’s alive. You can hear the cries from the O’Driscolls as they’re beaten by your fellow Van Der Lindes. You get Kieran to sit against the wall in front of the horses. Hosea looks him over and Mary-Beth gets him water that he can hardly drink.

The sight infuriates you. You go back to the alley and find the O’Driscolls writhing in pain beneath your friends. Arthur steps away, giving you room. Bill and Javier follow, knowing exactly what you intend to do. The first one cries as if he hadn’t helped kidnap and beat Kieran, but he gets a bullet the same as the other two that give quiet stares. The blood pools on the ground under each of them and it fills you with a slight relief. Arthur has to put his hand over yours to make you lower your gun.

“We gotta get him home.” He says softly. “Come on, boy.”

You holster your gun and walk back to the horses. Kieran has his eyes open a little more and he’s drinking the water much better. Bill and Javier each give him a nod as they pass to mount their horses.

Hosea stands and looks between you and Arthur. “I take it we won’t have to worry about our friends anymore?”

“Taken care of.” Arthur says. “Let get goin’ before the law shows up.”

You kneel in front of Kieran and he smiles at you, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. You turn your head so you can press a kiss to his hand before you hold it in yours for a moment. Arthur helps you get him up on your horse and you ride back to camp. When you ride in you stall by the horses and let Branwen see that Kieran is back.

“Miss me, buddy?” Kieran asks as he presses his hand to Branwen’s nose.

The horse seems much happier.

Strauss gives you a few tonics and instructs you when to give them to Kieran. You pay as close attention as you can. Mary-Beth and Hosea brought him to your tent and sit with him while you get the supplies. Hosea excuses himself when you return, giving you a warm look with a pat on the shoulder. Mary-Beth tells you she left a book for Kieran, but he might need help reading some of it. You nod and she gives you a smile before she leaves.

“They’re fussin’ over me.” Kieran says, wincing as he sits up.

“They should be.”

You set the tonics down next to Mary-Beth’s book and hand him the one he’s supposed to drink now. He downs it, breaking once and a while when the wound on his lip stings.

“You’re sleeping here from now on.” You say, sitting next to him. “O’Driscolls can’t get you here.”

Kieran smiles softly. “Guess I shoulda done it before.”

“You’re here now, alive. That’s what matters.”

“Did ya shoot those fellas?” He asks, setting the tonic bottle down.

You nod.

“They wasn’t the only ones.” Kieran says. “I told Mister Matthews ‘bout a camp.”

“Dutch will probably have us hit it tomorrow.”

“Do ya have ta go?” Kieran asks. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

You carefully wrap your arms around him, trying not to hit any bruises. Kieran grips you much tighter. His face is buried in your shoulder and you hold him a little more solidly as he starts to sob. He tries to hide it at first but once you press a light kiss to his head, he lets go and the tears fall onto your shirt. You hold him for a while, just letting him get it out. You don’t know what happened beyond the cuts and bruises, but you will be joining Sadie on her next O’Driscoll hunting spree.

[quiet-compassion]

OFMD Fluffvember Day 9: Nose Boop

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51607360

It’s certainly been a mixed bag of a day in Stede’s estimation. From the highs of finding a truly remarkable suit—one that really looked like it was made to fit him, if he did say so himself—to the lows of being forced to relinquish said suit for the good of the crew, he supposes it’s all a wash. But if the morning and afternoon left something to be desired, the night has been wonderful. Walking hand in hand with Ed, catching up with each other in the light of the moon, it’s perfect.

He’s missed this, the quiet comfortability of just being together. To say nothing of the excitement and the fire of finally being able to kiss Ed, of pulling him into his arms, running his hands through Ed’s hair exactly the way he’d been dreaming of doing for weeks.

But, they’re going to take things slow. Which is…good. Great actually. First and foremost because it’s what Ed wants. But also because he’s right; the two of them could stand to be a little less fly-by-night, especially when it comes to something as important as one another. And Stede can do slow. Lord knows he was slow enough on the uptake the first go round, not picking up on his or Ed’s feelings until Mary had practically spelled it out for him.

For now, it’s enough to be back together, on the same ship, breathing the same air. Yes, Stede thinks to himself as he listens to Ed tell him all about his conversation with…Kevin, apparently, this is more than enough.

“Well, good night I guess,” Ed says, cat bell jingling as he lets go of Stede’s hand and abruptly turns to leave.

Stede feels like he’s been dunked in the ocean. “What? Good night? Where are you going?”

Ed turns back to him looking about as bewildered as Stede feels. “Uh…figured I’d go find a spot to crash for the night,” he says, gesturing behind him with his thumb.

This does little to clarify Stede’s confusion. “Crash? Below deck?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, mate,” Ed replies, throwing up his hands placatingly. “I’ll stay away from the rest of the crew. Not trying to freak anybody out. I’ll just camp out in the ball room or something, assuming no one’s in there. Worst comes to worst, I’ll nip up to the crow’s nest. Then I’ll be out of everyone’s way.”

Stede stands there blinking at him for a moment, brows furrowed and mouth open, before pulling himself together. “I—I think there’s been a mixup.”

Ed raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why would you sleep in the crow’s nest when there’s a perfectly good cabin right here?” He gestures to the door they’re standing in front of.

Ed’s eyes widen before he drops his gaze to the floor. “Well I’m on probation, right? So I just assumed…I figured the cabin was too nice.”

“Edward, the probation is about helping everybody to feel comfortable around you again. It’s not about punishing you.”

He gives an awkward laugh at that. “I think the crew would beg to differ.”

Stede stands up a bit straighter. “I’m the captain.” Ed’s head snaps up to look at him at his tone. “And I say you’ve suffered enough. Everyone has.”

They stand staring at each other in silence, Ed with an unreadable expression and Stede clinging to his commanding persona. After a moment, he deflates a bit, reaching out tentatively to touch Ed’s arm.

“Look, if you don’t want to, that’s perfectly alright. But I want you to get a good night’s rest and be comfortable. So, if you’re up for it, I’d love for you to share my cabin,” he says gently.

A tiny smile blooms on Ed’s face before morphing into something hesitant and considering. “And we’re still…taking it slow?”

Stede smiles reassuringly. “Yes, of course.”

There’s another beat. Then Ed shimmies forward bashfully. “I think I might like that.”

Stede takes his hand again and pushes open the cabin door. Once inside, the reality and logistics of the situation hit him. Gone are the comfy couch and the chaise lounge that once furnished the room. The only things left are a chair that has seen better days, a knife-marked desk, and a bed that might be generously described as “cozy”.

“Uh…hmmm.” 

Ed sighs, letting out another embarrassed laugh. “It’s fine, mate. I can sleep on the floor.”

“That won’t be comfortable at all!” Stede protests.

“Hey, I’m the reason the stuff’s all gone. I think it’s only fair.”

“I thought I told you, I’m not interested in placing blame. You deserve to sleep well. Someplace nice, and soft, and warm.”

“Warm,” Ed repeats to himself under his breath.

Suddenly, Stede has an idea. “How about this! Why don’t we grab a couple of spare bed rolls from up on deck? We can lay them out and move the mattress onto the floor. That way we’ll have a padded spot that’s roomy enough for both of us. There’ll be space, between us, I mean. So, still slow.” He finishes lamely, watching Ed closely for his reaction.

“Yeah, alright then,” he agrees with a nod.

“Great! Be back in a jiff!”

Bed rolls obtained, they get to work cobbling together their little nest. To Stede’s delight (and moderate shock) it works out just as he envisioned, pretty spacious and decently comfortable. They lay down side by side, several inches between them, each looking up at the ceiling.

“Thanks,” Ed whispers after a few minutes.

“Of course. It’s no trouble. Well,” Stede amends with a shrug, “it was a bit. But you’re worth it.”

He can see Ed smile out of the corner of his eye. 

“You know, I was thinking. Just because we’re going slow doesn’t mean we have to avoid touching each other like we’ve got the plague.” Ed turns his head to face Stede.

“Oh? Okay. What did you have in mind?” he asks, eyes still on the shiplap above him.

“Well…I liked what we landed on before. Holding hands.”

“Ah, me too,” Stede says, reaching over to grab Ed’s hand and entwining their fingers. “How’s that?”

“Nice. And you could, you know, look at me.”

Stede chuckles nervously. “Right.”

He turns over onto his side, facing Ed who smiles at him.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Ed reaches out with his free hand to stroke Stede’s shoulder lightly, the bell around his neck jingling with the movement. On instinct, Stede reaches out and boops him on the tip of his nose. There’s a stunned and slightly awkward pause.

“Too much?” Stede asks with a grimace.

But Ed just shrugs. “Kinda liked it.”

They both break out into silly grins, unable to stop staring at each other. 

“Night night,” Stede whispers, eyes still open.

“Yep,” Ed replies without breaking their gaze.

Yes, Stede thinks as he lays there on their pile of blankets, this is more than enough.

[boriwave]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 — An Arthur Morgan X Reader fic

Wip, it's still a draft. The full thing will be posted in a month or two.

The gentle but bright arms of Mother Sun snuck through the cracks of that old tent and shook the outlaw awake. With an annoyed groan, he peered his eyes open, only to stare at the ceiling of that tent.

“God damn it…” He cursed to himself, considering if going back to sleep was a good idea, after all, if he did, it would mean seeing you again.

You, that young thing with the most captivating eyes he’s ever seen; you, who always had your hands covered in dirt from slaving away in your father’s farm; you, who he hasn’t seen in well over ten years.

It was strange, Arthur hadn’t even thought of your name in a long while but the moment the gang moved camps again, to an area surrounded by a forest, you appeared in his mind like a ghost.

At first, it started with little mnemonics showing up in his dreams, followed by your scent carried in the wind, to finally culminate in a repetitive dream he couldn’t escape from. A dream, that’s more of a memory of the day he lost you, that’s been hunting him for over two months now.

Arthur wasn’t sure what to feel about said dream, he didn’t even know what to feel about you— he never did. He knew he felt something but whatever that was was explained away as he was using you as a mere distraction from Mary. However, that didn’t explain the storm of butterflies that was once present in his stomach, or how he could get lost in those gentle but exhausted eyes of yours.

“Get yourself together, Morgan…” With one last rub to his eyes, Arthur forced himself on his feet and got ready for the day. He followed the same routine as always: get dressed, wash his teeth, trim his beard, eat and try to escape Dutch’s usual morning yapping, in which he failed at the latter.

Like usual, the new found memory of you didn’t leave his brain throughout the morning. Maybe that’s why he stuck around to whatever nonsense Dutch spewed that morning instead of finding whatever excuse he could find to walk away— even now, being nowhere to be seen, you had that ability to make life a bit more bearable.

Time blurred as Arthur made his daily chores, even going out of his way this time around to help out with the horses— really, he found himself doing anything and everything to escape those beautiful memories of those feelings, whatever they were, but to no avail.

He wrote about his feeling, or tried, but even your image— or whatever he could remember — plagued those yellow-ish pages. He couldn’t escape you no matter what he tried.

Was this his punishment for leading the life he did? For being so cruel as to use your being as another distraction from the woman he was so deeply in love with? Because that’s all you were, a physical wall to keep his aching heart from thinking about Mary— or, at least, you were at first.

Time went by quickly and before Arthur knew it, he found himself staring up at his tent once more with his mind racing with memories he thought were locked and buried deep inside his conscious.

“This is the best day of my life.” Your voice, as sweet and gentle as the first day he met you, echoed in the chambers of his mind, forcing him to stay awake. “Promise you’ll never leave me, Arthur…”

Those words from a time long ago rang through his mind like church bells during early sunday morning. The irony of it all was sickening— wicked even.

And Arthur could do nothing but resent and love you all the same.

[eial-daily]

Music Dailyverse Blast. (Sorry if you don't like being pinged I don't know the list.)

@insickness-and-inflames @in-case-i-die-daily @incaseimakeit-daily @aid-daily @are-we-there-yet-daily @bury-me-at-makeout-creek-daily @coyote-stories-daily @chnt-campfiresongs-daily @chnt-podcast-daily @cccc-daily @dailyverse-daily @french-exit-daily @foxlore-daily @good-and-evil-daily @hawaii-pt2-daily @hawaii-part-ii-daily @joehawley-joehawley-daily @lincoln-tmbg-daily @lvjy-daily @lfthcs-daily @los-camp-daily @mary-bell-community-radio @mary-bell-radiation-authority @mgmk-daily @normal-album-daily @night-vale-daily @normalrandomalbum @nature-tapes-late-morning-live @nature-tapes-daily @o-my-heart-daily @spirit-phone-daily @self-ish-daily @tthdph-daily @view-monster-daily @wyatt-the-undescript-large-bug

literally its so fun being abnormal about christianity and also being christian because i just said "id kiss judas with tongue" in front of my pastor and she squinted at me and went "do you need to be removed from council or are you going to be normal?"

[cricketfucker]

Will Wood Song Tournament!

Good morning ladies, gentlemen, boys, girls, neithers, boths, and in-betweens. We gather here to vote upon the best Will Wood songs of all time.

Below is our roster of 64 Will Wood / Will Wood and the Tapeworms songs, placed in a randomized order, my only rule being that none of the matches in the first & second round will be from the same album:

ROUND 1 - Voting Date & Time: January 31st, 2pm CST

Match 1: Becoming the Lastnames VS Self-

Match 2: Euthanasia VS Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture

Match 3: Welcome to Camp Here & There VS You Liked This (Okay, Computer!)

Match 4: Falling Up VS Cotard's Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca)

Match 5: Momento Mori: the most important thing in the world VS Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll

Match 6: Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) VS Morning Announcements

Match 7: Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to the Fusiform Gyrus) VS Everything Is a Lot

Match 8: Evening Announcements VS Ferryman

Match 9: Love, Me Normally VS Good Morning, Campers!

Match 10: Afternoon Announcements VS Destroy to Enjoy

Match 11: Misanthrapologist VS Lysergide Daydream

Match 12: Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In! VS That's Enough, Let's Get You Home.

Match 13: Dr. Sunshine Is Dead VS Yes, to Err is Human, so Don't Be One.

Match 14: When Somebody Needs You VS Big Fat Bitchie’s Blueberry Pie, Christmas Tree, and Recreational Jell-o Emporium a.k.a. “Mr. Boy is on the Roof Again” (Feat. Pasta by Sneakers McSqueakers) [From “B.F.B.’s B-Sides: Bagel Batches, Marsh-Mallows, & Barsh-Mallows”]

Match 15: 2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.) VS Your Body, My Temple

Match 16: Cover This Song (A Little Bit Mine) VS The Main Character

ROUND 2 - Voting Date & Time: February 1st, 2pm CST

Match 1: Red Moon VS I / Me / Myself

Match 2: Cicada Days VS Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples

Match 3: BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA VS Half-Decade Hangover

Match 4: Front Street VS Vampire Reference in a Minor Key

Match 5: Tomcat Disposables VS Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D.

Match 6: White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?) VS ...well, better than the alternative

Match 7: Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave VS Alma Mater

Match 8: Um, It's Kind of a Lot VS Under a Monochromatic Sky

Match 9: ...And If I Did, You Deserved It. VS Against the Kitchen Floor

Match 10: -ish VS Venetian Blind Man

Match 11: Under a Technicolor Sky VS 2012

Match 12: 6up 5oh Copout (Pro / Con) VS The Song with Five Names, a.k.a. Soapbox Tao, a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government, a.k.a. You Can Never Know

Match 13: Jimmy Mushroom's Last Drink: Bedtime in Wayne, NJ VS White Noise

Match 14: Willard! VS ¡Aikido! (Neurotic / Erotic)

Match 15: The Rhumba of Death VS The First Step

Match 16: Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones) VS Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

ROUND 3 - Voting Date & Time: February 2nd, 2pm CST

Match 1: Becoming the Lastnames VS Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture

Match 2: Welcome to Camp Here & There VS Cotard's Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca)

Match 3: Momento Mori: the most important thing in the world VS Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!)

Match 4: Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to the Fusiform Gyrus) VS Ferryman

Match 5: Love, Me Normally VS Destroy to Enjoy

Match 6: Misanthrapologist VS Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!

Match 7: Dr. Sunshine is Dead VS When Somebody Needs You

Match 8: 2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.) VS The Main Character

ROUND 4 - Voting Date & Time: February 3rd, 2pm CST

Match 1: I / Me / Myself VS Cicada Days

Match 2: BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA VS Front Street

Match 3: Tomcat Disposables VS Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D. VS ...well, better than the alternative

Match 4: Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave VS Um, It's Kind of a Lot

Match 5: Against the Kitchen Floor VS Venetian Blind Man

Match 6: 2012 VS The Song with Five Names, a.k.a. Soapbox Tao, a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government, a.k.a. You Can Never Know

Match 7: White Noise VS Willard!

Match 8: The First Step VS Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

ROUND 5 - Voting Date & Time: February 5th, 2pm CST

Match 1: Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture VS Cotard's Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca)

Match 2: Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) VS Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to the Fusiform Gyrus)

Match 3: Love, Me Normally VS Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!

Match 4: Dr. Sunshine is Dead VS 2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.)

Match 5: Cicada Days VS BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA

Match 6: ...well, better than the alternative VS Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave

Match 7: Against the Kitchen Floor VS The Song with Five Names, a.k.a. Soapbox Tao, a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government, a.k.a. You Can Never Know

Match 8: Willard! VS Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

ROUND 6 - Voting Date & Time: February 7th, 2pm CST

Match 1: Cotard's Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca) VS Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!)

Match 2: Love, Me Normally VS 2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.)

Match 3: BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA VS Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave

Match 4: Against the Kitchen Floor VS Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

ROUND 7 - Voting Time & Date: February 8th, 4pm CST

Match 1: Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) VS Love, Me Normally

Match 2: Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave VS Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

ROUND 8 - Voting Time & Date: February 9th, 5pm CST

Final Match: Love, Me Normally VS Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

WINNER!

Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

[haepii]

Limerence | PJS (01)

(n.) the state of being infatuated or obsessed with someone

Pairing: Park Jisung + Reader

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Supernatural!AU, series

Series: Main Navi, Neo Culture Pack Series Masterlist, next part

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Mentions/Use of Weapons (I.e., swords, daggers, knives), Mentions of Blood, Murder, Animal Death/Murder, Werewolves (if you don't like it, leave), Mentions of bones cracking/breaking, Mentions of witches/witchcraft, mentions of vampires/fae, mentions of werewolves (duh), Jealous/Controlling Behavious (I do not condone these behaviours in real life, but obviously this work is pure fiction and so are the characters in it even if they are based off real people), Mentions of terminal illness (a brief mention and flashbacks, it can be rather confronting and I have experienced the facing of this situation myself. I know how confronting and triggering it is, so please do not put your own mental health at sake for reading this fanfic).

WC: 4.7K

It was another morning, as any other, riding on your bicycle, your long hair flowing in the wind behind you as the curls framing your face brushed your blushed cheeks. Hearing the ping of a bike bell, your glanced back with a smile, seeing Ryujin, your best friend only a few metres behind you coming from an unpaved side-street. Her voice exclaimed happily. "(Y/N)!"

Slowing for a few moments, allowing for the girl, clad in your small town's school uniform, consisting of a white blouse, with a navy bow knot tie, that had a pin of the school crest in the centre, alongside white and red accents. The pleated skirt, she'd always rolled up was navy blue with two red and white strips near the hem. The usual navy and gold accented blazer had not be worn, given summer vacation had just ended, but the heat remained thick in the air. You gave her a side look, like she was crazy. "You saw me yesterday, you can't possibly have missed me."

"Well, I did, and here we are. Softmore year, huh?" Ryujin tended to be more risqué and feisty when it came to the dress code, overdoing it in makeup with her bold red lips, and bleached or dyed hair, which was now a deep red colour matching her gradient lip tint. Her earrings were massive statement earrings she'd bought on the school trip to Seoul the previous semester, and was reminiscent of the earrings seen on Kpop-idols in their music videos with the 'girl crush' concept. Admittedly, you loved the girl to death, but as the sophomore Head Girl, AKA the world's biggest suck-up, you constantly had to give her detentions. "Chaerin and Taegwang went camping this weekend, you know? I wonder if they'll be back yet."

"They always are." You answered with a smile, entering the main road of the town in sync with Ryujin. The town you lived in was at the bottom of a massive mountain range, known for supernatural happenings and hauntings, alongside being a national park. One of the biggest in the world, owned by the Lee's, the town's richest family that everyone knew but, strangely, never saw. "Do you reckon they'd go camping in the woods?"

"0h hell no! Could you imagine Chaerin, in the woods? I couldn't." Ryujin let out a laugh, as the pair of you reached the school's parking lot, moving to park your bikes in the bike parks. Ryujin took her sweet time in getting out her bike chain, and locking it as you spoke. "Hey, no need to be nasty, I'm sure she can rough it out. I'm also sure that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

Following the girl's lead, you chained your bike to the parking spot, and got your pink backpack from the basket of your off-white, vintage bike. You hadn't noticed that Ryujin and yourself wore the same Mary Jane heels and lace-trim socks, until you heard the voice of Chaerin squealing into your ears, almost rendering you deaf, and throwing her arms around Ryujin and your own shoulders, being in between the pair of you. "Oh my goodness! Look who's back in business, and matching shoes too! You guys never let me in on the fun, don't you?"

"Hey! I bought these in Seoul." Ryujin almost looked offended, as did you, but soon the two of you giggled for a second and the offence of wearing the same shoes was quickly put behind you. "I did too."

"You two know how the saying goes, great minds think alike." Chaerin spoke with a slight smirk, noting how you and Ryujin seemed to always be just that smidge closer than she was to either of you. However, that was not surprising considering you and Ryujin had practically come from the womb best friends. "Anywho! We got lab partners assigned for sciences today on the notice board. I think Ms. Qian learnt from last year not to put you two with each other."

You let out a snort, as Taegwang, Chaerin's boyfriend of two years walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek, now walking beside the three of you. Ryujin spoke up, a tasting smirk on her lips. "I bet Ms. Qian wouldn't have put you with Taegwang for chemistry, given how loved up you two are. Especially after this weekend."

Wagging her tongue side-to-side and wiggling her eyebrows comically, Chaerin hit Ryujin with a playfully angry expression on her face, before smirking herself. "Oh! do that all you want Ryujin, it doesn't stop from the fact that I've got a love life and you bitches don't."

"I so have a love life!" You defended, looking between Chaerin and Ryujin who shared a knowing side-eye glance with one another.

"Yeah... totally, with your maths textbook." Ryujin started bursting out in laughter, alongside Chearin, the two of them thinking they were the most hilarious people on the planet. Chearin gave her partner in crime high-five, wiping the tears from her eyes and chortling out. "Good one."

"Not cool, either of you." You shook your head in mock offence, making a b-line for the notice board, and collecting your schedule from the administrations office, the other three–Chaerin, Taegwang, and Ryujin doing the same.

"No maybe, I'm wrong, it's definitely your French paint set." Ryujin giggled, as the four of you waited in line to get a look-see at the new lab partners for the year. you gave a look of complete seriousness to Ryujin, gesturing with your fingers, only a minuscule amount. "Ryujin, I am this close to ripping those earrings out."

"Taegwang, do you see how she treats us? She threatens violence all the time, it's practically abuse." Ryujin let out a fake sob clutching her earrings and pouting up at the much taller captain of the basketball team, Taegwang. Chaerin gave Ryujin a look. "Paws off my boyfriend."

Silence fell over the rowdy friend group as they went to get a peak at the lab partners for the year, Ryujin looking deflated as she saw who her new lab partner was, she'd gotten Zhong Chenle, the boy in your's and her's biology class. He was super arrogant, and cocky, only really caring for the music and track programs, doing biology as a way to get an easy mark to keep up his grades for track. Ryujin knew she would no longer be able to dump the work onto you, seeing as your lab partner was Chenle's best friend, Park Jisung. On the contrary to Chenle, Jisung was quiet and shy, only really hanging out with Chenle and a group of four other senior boys, all popular, one of who'm was on the basketball team, the other on the restling, one in the music program, and the last being the school's captain. The two boys, now Ryujin and your respective lab partners were friends with Jaemin, Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun. They never spoke to anyone else, and acted as if all the other students were beneath them.

What a great lab partner, you sarcastically thought to yourself rolling your eyes with a scowl. Secretly, you'd hoped to get Ryujin as your lab partner, but that would've been foolish. Ms. Qian made that mistake last year, and she was determined not to make that mistake again.

"The lab partners this year are complete and utter bullshit, and to think we have bio first! Ugh!" Ryujin snapped, complaining on and on, as the bell rang for first period. The all-consuming dread now filling you as well, when you looked down at your schedule for the first time. Making a stop at your neighbouring lockers to put your bags away and to get your books before heading off again you couldn't help but feel like you were on the edge of something massive occurring, and you didn't like this feeling.

Nevertheless, you followed behind Ryujin dazed and your mind wandering as you walked across the courtyard of the campus to the sciences block, straying a few metres behind your dearest friend, taking a moment to look up at the sky and collect your thoughts. Seeing only a pool of grey, you felt slightly relieved, knowing that the afternoon would be filled with rain and loose-leaf teas, alongside huddling under thick blankets and studying for only a short while before putting on a movie until your mother got home. A small smile fell upon your lips. The thought of playing in the rain with your dog, Maggie, or hearing the pattering raindrops on the tin roof of your home as you drifted off for a nap. Maybe you'd sit on the back porch with a steaming cup of tea and look out at the treelike of the mountain range in the distance. Your home, despite not being much, was still your home, and you couldn't ask for any better.

You strolled biology behind Ryujin, your mind absent of any thoughts as you walked over to the lab bench you now shared with Jisung. The lanky boy with slightly pink hair, who's gaze landed on you the moment you walked into the room, leaving the room feeling heavy and as if it was caving in on you, suffocating you, leaving one thought left on your mind; what was happening to me?

Sitting at the lab bench, waiting for the class to begin, knowing full well the dismay of Chenle when he was not put as his lab partner for the year as he waited for you. Having never had first-hand experiences with you, only knowing of you, he hadn't really come to a judgement on whether or not you were good or bad. He knew of your place in the school, and the friends you kept, who'm he was relieved picked chemistry as he detested them with a burning passion. He knew you were known for doing the most prized art pieces around the school, and had a few art trophies, and debating trophies in the trophy case under your name, he also knew you were the vice captain of the school as a sophomore, being known as Head Girl, alongside his pack mate and (technically) adoptive brother, Renjun. Knowing you hardly ever left the school grounds, he wasn't surprised that you were also known for tutoring the football and basketball teams respectively. You were the model student, and this town's closest thing to a golden girl.

His gaze flickered to you, as you entered the biology lab, your biology and art history textbooks clutched absentmindedly to your chest. You were clearly pensive as you strolled over to the lab bench, dumping your books on the bench and putting your book bag on the bag of your raised stool, sitting down next to him. Though you seemed away in your own mind, Jisung stared at you intently, taking in the scent of lavender, vanilla and summer rain as it consumed his senses and blurred him to anyone else in the room. His eyes fell upon you as if he were analysing you in a way that would make any outsider think he'd never see you again. His gaze focused on your pink headband, and he curls that rested free to fame your face, or how the light waves of your hair cascaded down your back, then moving to focus on your lightly blushed pink cheeks, and hot pink lip tint. From the light eyeshadow on your eyes to the bronzer on your cheeks, or the way your lightly mascara-clad eyelashes fluttered when you blinked.

Then he felt it, that fluttering warm sensation bubbling in his chest. The one his brothers had described earnestly when they met them, their mate. The feeling he was instinctively taught to know of without ever being told of, engrained into his senses, on a spot in his heart from the moment he was born. His mate.

Chenle, sitting at the lab bench in front of him, with Ryujin, who was checking her nails absentmindedly had turned around to say something, a playful smile already on his face as he opened his mouth to speak up, before frowning and closing it instantly. He felt it too, the feeling not unlike what her felt for the mates of their pack brothers, or their pups that were not far from entering this world. The pull to protect you at all costs had now consumed him. The unmistakable voice rang in his head, only through the strong bond of a pack link could such be shared. "I think... I just found my mate."

"If I'm going to be honest... I think you did too." He said back in shock, not even bothering to turn back around as the lesson began, and Ms. Qian had done her best to teach the lesson, continuously faltering and pausing to look at you, Jisung and Chenle, almost failing to teach the class the fundamentals of the powerhouse of the cell, too distracted in what was going on.

You on the other hand, tried to intently the focus on Ms. Qian's teaching, desperately trying to ignore the heavy gaze Jisung had held on you for the entirety of the lesson. When the bell finally rang, you made a point to be one of the first out the door and run down the halls and outside the science building to the arts building, which was conveniently in the main building of the school, attached by a covered walkway, unlike the science building. You hadn't even realised that the rain for the day had begun to pelt down relentlessly covering you in head to toe as you walked into the art class, recieving the same faltering look from Renjun.

The same look Chenle had given you, and the same look you had swore Ms. Qian gave you too. Not you as well... what is with everyone looking at me today? You thought as you looked at your fellow Head student, Head Boy to be precise. You sat down your book bag by your easel and perched yourself onto your stool, making quick work of taking out your paints and setting them on your palette. Renjun had to take a moment to process the overwhelming need to protect you, just as he felt for the others. He spoke up in his casual tone that he'd usually used with you, being Head Boy and Girl meant you two interacted a lot and often. "Did you not stop to check that it was raining? You do know we have a semester start address at assembly after lunch, don't you?"

"Oh, was it?" You frowned, all of a sudden feeling cold and shivering as you sat down underneath the cool air conditioning, as water dripped from your blouse, that had gone slightly see-through. At this point, Renjun was just about cursing himself for not knowing sooner about you being the mate of someone in his pack. He held out his wooden navy jumper to you, which he conveniently brought everyday knowing how cold the air conditioning can get, and how much he hated it. "Here, you'll need it."

"I'll look like a mess on assembly, but thank you." You took his jumper and pulled it over your head, it was slightly too big and smelled of his cologne, but you supposed that desperate times called for desperate measures. Renjun just shook his head with a small smile. "You'll look fine, I'm sure you'll dry out by then too."

You turned your attention to the hyper realistic painting of a Koi pond you were working on for your Japanese cultural project, showcasing architecture, culture, and wildlife. You had already completed three other pieces, one of traditional dress, in hyper-realism, and one of architecture in surrealism, the last one you were doing was one of wildlife in hyper-realism, aiming to tell the story of Japanese culture. Picking up your paintbrush, you began to do some touch ups on what had been started rather than start any new portion of the painting, blending and shading being your only goal for this hour-long session.

Renjun on the other hand was working on a series of graphic drawing depicting the trials of adolescence, based on an Australian coming of age movie, the name of which you hadn't cared to remember. Just as you were getting in the zone of painting, the bell had once again rung, and Renjun walked across the room over to you with a small smile. You returned the small smile, gesturing to his jumper. "I suppose you want your jumper back?"

"No, you can keep it until assembly. I was wondering if you had written anything for the address." He shrugs, looking over at your art works propped up half-hazardly against the wall, most of which were paintings or framed sketches from the past semester. You shrugged in return giving a playful smile to the slightly taller boy. "No, no... you know me, always speak from the heart."

"You mean wing it." He chuckled, at which you let out a laugh. You never understood how Renjun could get you to let loose so easily, how he could make you become calm and free-spirited. Perhaps it was just his nature, having that theraputic presence about him, or perhaps it was something more sinister. You suppose you'd never know. "Me, wing it? Never."

"Alright, I'll speak first and hand it to you, considering you did the closing address." He says with a 'business as usual' smile that you knew all too well, knowing that you were not only peers but colleagues that the school loved to show off at any chance given. You smiled with a nod, before picking up your things and heading to lunch. "All good."

Walking into the lunch hall, you found yourself walking over to the table claimed by Chaerin and Taegwang, as they were picking at their lunch trays. Chearin had been cuddling up to Taegwang, and you could see how they loved each other deeply, despite only being an offical item for a couple of months. Young love was fickle, you knew this, so much could go wrong. High school sweethearts don't often stick around.

Before being called over by a group of her more popular friends, she kissed Taegwang on the cheek and ran off to anyone table, just as you sat down with your own tray.

"Your's looks more wholesome than mine." Nodding from his own tray to your's, the stark contrast between the colourful and nutrient feast on your tray, to the deep fried and golden mass on his.

"Eh... well, mother-dearest is on a business trip to Sweden and won't be back for a few weeks, and the only things at home are eggs, milk and ramen." You took large bites of the meat and vegetables on your tray as you spoke, as if never wanting to confront your true emotions on your family life.

Your mother owned a law firm, originally based in the city, but expanded to Europe and since had grown on the other side of the globe. The only twist with this is that your mother and father started the company together, only to divorce once the firm had grown. In a successful attempt to get full custody of you, she split the firm, based it Sweden, and used the cover of moving in with your terminally ill grandmother in this small town. Since her death, you had figured that your mother only stayed in this town as a way to be closer to her. Staying only to cherish her for a few more years until you eventually moved for a career, and the house would become just another relic on her growing property portfolio.

After a beat of long silence and eating, Taegwang spoke up after talking a long sip of his drink. "You can stay at mine for a bit if you want."

"No, no... I'm fine, she'll be back before the whether turns, I'm sure of it." You gave him a small smile, as if reassuring him that you'd be fine in the house that gave you such fond, yet such confronting memories. Having known you since you were both young, Taegwang knew that you were not fine in the slightest, and knew the only he could do was be there. "At least let me drive you home."

"Your girlfriend would crucify me."

"One, she's not that clingy, and two, I don't want you getting sick, three, who's jumper is that?" Taegwang let out a laugh at the smirk that plastered itself on your face as you took a sip of your own drink, before he'd turned more serious. Almost like he was repulsed instead of just being there, like he had to protect you from something.

"It's just Renjun's– I acciedntally walked in the rain." A beat of silence fell over the two of you again, as Ryujin plopped her tray down on the table, immediately feeling the tension rise between you and Taegwang. You looked him in the eye. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"No, nothing at all."

You nuzzled yourself into the jumper further, taking more bites of your lunch, feeling a flock of burning gazes on your back, you glanced back at Ryujin for a moment, seeing that she was contemplating on leaving, awkwardly blurting out. "I think I'll go sit with Chaerin."

"No! I want you to sit with us."

Out of you perhiphial vision–which you had seen a lot out of today–you could see the table of the six most well-known boys in the school's eyes focused on you in bewilderment, some even gaping at you. Jaemin, Jeno, and Haechan all had their eyes on you, while Jisung, the youngest, at his food and was determined not to look at you. On the other hand, Renjun and Chenle paid no mind to you, talking in rapid-fire mandarin, engrossed in their own conversation.

From their table, not far from your own, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin all gaped at you. They all felt that simultaneous need to protect you, knowing full-well who you were, what you meant to them, and what it would mean for the future. Noticing your discomfort at the three boys gaping at you, Renjun broke off from the conversation about the possibility of alien life with Chenle, and looked at the three jocks.

"Maybe if you idiots stop gaping at her like she's a zoo animal, then we might actually be able to befriend her without her running for the hills first."

Haechan was the first to tear his gaze from you, and focused on Renjun with an annoyed scoff. "If you spoke to her about your alien bullshit, then she has been running for the hills, as you put it, well before now."

Rolling his eyes, the only one with any rational sense in the group, so happening to be the youngest and tallest, stood up and went to clear his tray, which was not unlike your own, as it was piled high with colourful foods full of nutrients. Jisung had found no amusement in his brothers' supposed 'caring for his wellbeing', already having an earful from their adoptive-sister-in-law, slash the glue that kept these boys from ripping each other apart on the prospect of you. He had never spoken to you, but he'd seen you before, so why–all of a sudden–did you become his mate and, subsequently, his partner in crime?

He always heard of the prospect of the mate bond, without ever picturing himself having one. He knew what it meant for the pack, another person they were bonded to, and another person who made them happy. Seeing how his adoptive brothers, specifically the older ones interacted with their mates, he knew it wasn't just genetic. There was an aspect of choosing in the process. Yet, here he stood, dumping his leftovers into the large containers for the homeless shelter, a program which you had started, while lost in thought. He was confused. While screaming at himself to run to you, to kiss you and to call you his, he also told himself that you were too good for him, better than any other girl he could've asked the moon goddess herself for. He could only think of one person he could go to for guidance.

Leaving school, and making a b-line for his moped he put on his helmet hopped on and drove off. He hadn't even bothered to tell his pack mates where he was going, they probably already knew, and if they didn't know, they could take a pretty accurate guess.

Within a short while, he'd arrived to the pack's house, a house nestled into the thick forests of the mountain range, in which was their territory, known mostly as a national park. Their private estate being on their privately owned land, they made a commission for use of the national park by the government. By no means were they middle class, they were straight upper class and their home, for the location, views, and land they were on would be worth millions.

Parking his moped in between Lucas' and Johnny's respective motorbikes, he hopped off, taking his helmet off as he did so. He walked up to the house, dragging his feet, feeling mentally drained to the point where he couldn't focus on anything. Without even thinking, he headed to the one room in the house he knew he'd be taken seriously.

"I know you left school, Jaemin contacted me as soon as you did. Come in, won't you?" The voice from inside the office rang through the air, with a tone of gentleness and patience. Contrary to what Jisung had been expecting, from the seething Taeyong he'd envisioned on his ride home.

Plonking himself on one of the seats opposite Taeyong, Jisung spoke cooly. "It's not his job to do that."

"He was worried." Taeyon soothed, knowing full well the confusion Jisung is going through. The alpha of this pack, their leader, felt it in his bones, the worry and concern, the confusion. He didn't like it when his pack was worried, it ebbed at him and put him on edge. "He thought you'd be jumping for joy, and wanting to spend every second with your mate."

"I'm confused for fuck's sake!"

"What is there to be confused about?" Taeyong stood from his office chair, finally looking up from his work, and moving around to sit with Jisung, but rather than sitting in the chair next to the younger, he leant on the armrest on the other, facing him.

"We're too young."

"Look, Jisung... I may not have been as young as you when I met Areum, but I knew the moon goddess herself knew what she was doing the second I had an actual conversation with her." As Jisung had expected, Taeyong had taken him seriously, as he'd always done and as the younger had hoped he'd always do. "Selene never makes mistakes."

"I don't want to scare her off."

"Then don't." The elder shrugged, before asking out of pure curiousity, not to taunt him, but just to know. To coach him through the thick of it. "Do you have any real reasons to befriend her, or is she one of the peers you don't talk to?"

"She's my new lab partner." The younger shrugged, but then again, what interesting conversations could occur over investigating DNA?

"Great! Get to know her, I don't see what's stopping you."

"I don't want everyone to go nuts over her though, you know how us lot get about mates." Despite the elder thinking, for a split second, that the younger was joking, the shock on the elder's face was a dead giveaway that he had not been expecting this reaction from Jisung, but nonetheless listened.

"I won't let them."

"I don't want to mark her until we're older."

"That's valid."

"I don't want to hold her down from her dreams."

"Only she can determine that, Jisung." Sighing, Taeyong gave the younger a small smile, giving the only reassurance to the younger that he could think to give. His own experience. It was the only way to make him understand that this bond is not to tie someone down, and it is definitely not a ball-and-chain. "Areum is going to law school, nothing is stopping her, and I would hate it if she thought I was stopping her."

"That's different."

"No, Jisung... it's not." Taeyong's gaze analysed the younger's confused expression.

Looking up at the elder, Jisung had a broken expression, feeling as if he'd lost you before he'd even had a chance, as if he never even had one to begin with. "Tell me what to do."

"What do you feel is right?"

© @haepii 2022

[bitchinthematrix]

RDR2 HEADCANONS

•Lenny’s secret talent is impressions, if he hears a particular voice enough he can do a pretty convincing copy of it. He rarely gets to use it in any practical ways, so he resorts to poking fun at his fellow camp-mates. He’s got Micah’s dumbfuck hick accent down to a science. “who d’you think you’re mimickin’, son?!” “who do you think you’re mimickin’, son?!”

He fools no one with his Micah impression though, Lenny hasn’t quite mastered the act of lowering his vocabulary to the level of a rodent.

•When Jack was born, almost everyone in the gang pulled their weight, not just in keeping the money flowing, but in supporting Abigail following John’s year-long absence. Miss Grimshaw and Hosea made sure Abigail’s head was right, considering a cocktail of pastpartum and “husband gone to get the milk” royally fucked with her mentally. While the rest helped with caring for baby Jack.

Mary-Beth and Tilly made the best damn aunts, always doting over him and now small his little shoes were. While Seán, Javier and Arthur couldn’t have been better uncles. Even those you wouldn’t consider “kid-friendly” individuals like Karen and Bill made sure to be useful.

The first time Abigail had laughed in months was when a 7-month-old Jack tugged a huge chunk out of Bill’s beard.

•Seán is a gaeilgeoir (fluent Irish speaker)- who has recently found himself in a land where he can speak his mother-tongue freely. Needless to say he goes a little buck wild. The greatest honour this man can bestow is a hushed “mo chara dílis” emphasized with a strong pat on the back.

It’s also not rare to hear “mo stór” or “mo chroí” murmured under an alcohol-riddled breath when he’s cuddled up with his darling by the campfire.

•Despite his (albeit subtle) ‘up and attem’ attitude, Charles Smith is not really a morning person. It takes about 10 minutes for Pearson’s homebrew coffee to kick in. 10 minutes of yawning, stretching, and a resting bitch face that’d but the fear of god into even the hardiest O’Driscoll. Anyone who has something to say to him within those 10 minutes approaches at their own peril.

Unless it’s Arthur, Arthur can talk to him no problem. He has best friend privilege.

•Kieran’s blood absolutely boils at the thought of Micah Bell. As the person who tends to the gangs horses, don’t you dare think he hasn’t noticed the complete disregard Micah, a man who isn’t above killing defenseless animals, has for his poor horse. Kieran makes sure to pamper Baylock a little extra every now and then, but secretly wishes he had a way to get revenge on his accursed rider.

•Hosea always has to laugh to himself when Dutch and Lenny get into silly little arguments over literature, it really puts into perspective how much Lenny reminds him of himself. And the insanely high hopes he has for the boy.

•before Sadie had fully adjusted to life at camp, and could proudly call herself one of them, she spent a lot of time observing the gang as individuals. Especially those she didn’t particularly trust/like. Watching them like a hawk from the sidelines.

It didn’t take her long to have the majority of them figured out. She was especially delighted to make the discovery that Bill is a complete and utter arachnophobe. And during one particular night, where the dumbass drank himself stupid again and mouthed off to Arthur- the man she trusted the most out of all of them, Sadie put her knowledge to good use. She managed to sneak the biggest spider she could find onto his person without him noticing. Before sitting back with a whiskey in hand to watch the show unfold.

Sadie Adler slept very peacefully that night, Bill Williamson’s screams of terror still replaying in her mind like a sadists lullaby.

[chnt-podcast-daily]

Good Morning Camp Mary Bell.

Hello campers.

The time is.. 9:30 AM, and the weather outside is an overcast for the entire day. As you know, Ryan Castiello had the unfortunate experience of being dragged into the depths of the water by a “sea monster” but counselor Jeremy immediately helped get him out. As of now, the lake will be closed until we can figure out a safe boundary.

Breakfast is a variety of cereals

Lunch is chicken tenders and fries

Dinner tonight is hamburgers and fries

Activities will be all the indoor activities because there is a high chance of thunderstorm. As lost of you know, rain here is quite acidic and can damage clothes and even skin with extended contact.

The stars were barely visible last night.. it was unnerving. The ones I was able to witness were still and white though, so everything should be okay.

[its-deputy-caleb]

hellllooooo amigo

so I was wondering if you could write a lil fic about Micah mentioning his birthday is soon but not expecting anyone to care about it but then the reader surprises him with a present and Micah’s like :O

I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for the past week lmao but if it ain’t your thing or if you’ve done something similar before then don’t worry about it my g :)

howdyy amigo <33 so i had all these good ideas and then i was writing and the creative block hit HARD so i high key hate this and its a mess but i hope i pulled through in the end and i kinda went a little off topic but oops enjoy anyway :0

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

You never really gave a thought to Micah’s birthday. Not because you didn’t want to celebrate it but simply because he never mentioned it to you. It wasn’t really a tradition to celebrate a gang members birthday although the group would never pass up a chance for drinking. Mostly those celebrations were reserved for big scores.

For some of the special members of the gang however, there were celebrations. On Dutch’s the whole gang would practically feast and party for the entire week and for Miss Grimshaw Javier would perform while Sean gave a right old toast. Dutch even insisted on a party for Molly and you laughed at Karen and Mary Beth who whined the entire night about “Miss fancy pants needing her own royal party”.

Of course even for the other members you’d notice when it was their birthday. You’d seen when close friends of Arthur leave gifts beside your own at his tent and for Jack’s birthday John and Abigail tolerated each other enough to spoil the boy with gifts surrounded by family.

That’s why you thought it was rather odd when Micah, your sweetheart never told you about his birthday. You thought he may have damn well forgot it when you overheard him one night with Bill.

He was mumbling into a bottle of whiskey, half on his way to passing out when he mentioned he was getting too old with another birthday coming up in a few days. Of course the bastard wouldn’t tell you, for all his boasting he’d never been one for parties or celebrating.

So with that in mind you spent the rest of the night formulating a plan to at least celebrate his birthday between the two of you.

-

You’d learnt from Bill the next morning, who wasn’t nearly half as drunk (or hungover) as Micah that his birthday was in exactly three days.

So that left you with three days to formulate just how you’d surprise the man you’d come to love so dearly for his birthday.

Coming up with a celebration was relatively easy— he wasn’t one for crowds, he enjoyed your company and only yours alone and he loved a good whiskey so naturally you’d take him away from the gang’s camp and head down to the Dakota river for the night.

It was finding a good gift that had you tearing your hair out. It was hard trying to find something that would be personal enough for Micah to appreciate when the man in question held few personal belongings, and naturally a new revolver was completely out of the question.

-

You decided to give up on your mission to find him a gift after nearly chewing Swanson’s ear off for singing while you were trying to think and rethink your gift.

So with a new formed headache you headed into valentine to purchase a nice and rather expensive whiskey for tomorrow night.

On your way out of the general store you noticed a beautiful Dutch Warmblood horse trot into the stable behind his owner. The horse had a large white spot over his leg and it couldn’t’ help but remind you of Baylock.

Bingo.

Smiling to yourself you put the whiskey in your saddle bag and walked into the stables to buy Micah his birthday gift, one you’re sure he’s going to love more over any new jacket or gunbelt.

-

Micah’s day went about relatively normally for the most part, waking up together with a kiss and a coffee but you couldn’t help be slightly more affectionate than usual.

You’d spent most of the day together, Micah talking with you while you did chores and you talking with him while he (reluctantly) sat on guard duty. All the normal things about the day went on and you kept your secret until the sun was just about to dip over the mountain.

Micah was leaning against a tree, sharpening his knife when you came up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You played with the ends of his hair, taking in the sight of him as he holstered the knife and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’ve got something for you.”

You leant forward and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin at the curious sound he made.

“Hmm? You sure that something isn’t right here in front of me sweetheart?”

You giggle softly as Micah tries to pull you in closer for a proper kiss, deciding to indulge in his wishes for once. It was his birthday after all.

Pulling away from the surprisingly tender kiss, you give him a gentle smile as you untangle yourself from his arms.

“Common, let me show you.”

You take Micah by the hand, almost dragging him to the other side of camp by the horses which drew the attention from a few of the gang members but you didn’t have a care in the world as anticipation grew.

Leading him over to Baylock who is newly saddled, you watched as Micah stared blankly at it before tentatively bringing a hand up to feel over the soft premium leather.

The saddle was all black to match Baylock’s coat with white inlay in the seat and silver on the horn. All of it was the finest quality at your request and even the bedroll was a finer cotton than most.

Micah couldn’t help the smile that broke out onto his face and he turned to you looking like a kid on Christmas.

“You get this for little old me?”

Your own smile matched his as you wrapped your arms back around his neck once more.

“Well I thought since you’d never ever want another revolver and there isn’t much more you love than those guns and Baylock that you’d want a new saddle for him.”

Micah brought you in for a tight hug after that, managing to lift you slightly as you clung to him for dear life. He looked up at you from your new position.

“Sweetheart there ain’t nothing I love more than I do you—“

He sets you back on the ground, leaning in for a kiss but letting your noses bump and your foreheads touch.

“—worth more to me than any ol’ revolver, I love you.”

You close the gap between the two of you, melting into each other as you feel just how much Micah is in love with you.

“I love you too Mikey, and happy birthday— do you like it?”

The look you give him is one of hope and he can’t help but nod and wrap his arms tighter around your waist.

“Course I like it, but yer didn’t need to pay for this. Looks real fancy.”

Micah looked over the saddle once more, his eyes beaming as he saw how well it complemented Baylock’s coat. He was impressed, of course by the gift but because you had cared enough to get it for him and it only confirmed the feelings he had for you.

“Who says I paid for it?”

You saw Micah smirk at your comment and give a low evil laugh.

“That’s my sweetheart I know and love.”

Of course this time you had paid for the saddle, one of the few items you were willing to pay for but that didn’t mean the two of you didn’t steal practically everything else.

You pull away from Micah and hoist yourself up onto Baylock’s saddle, holding your hand out to a very confused looking Micah.

“Common you, I’ve got a nice bottle of whiskey and two glasses waiting for us.”

-

Down by the river you and Micah were perched up on a large rock that was floating in some shallow water by the river bank. You’d hidden the glasses and whiskey in a tree and the two of you were now laughing together as you drank through it slowly.

Your head was resting under his chin while his arm that wasn’t holding his glass was draped over your shoulder. The moonlight reflecting off the water was more than enough for the two of you to see as he topped up your glass for you.

“Gosh so how old are you now?”

Your words were light and charismatic, the two of you giggling about all sorts of things that night. Micah looked up in contemplation, humming as if he was trying to remember.

“Ehh must be close to forty now— thirty nine I think.”

You whistled, only to cut yourself off with a small laugh as you raised the glass to your mouth.

“You are getting old Mr.Bell, the next thing you know I’ll be able to outshoot you.”

“Sweetheart you can already outshoot me…”

Despite the lighthearted tone of the conversation, you noticed how Micah got uncharacteristically quiet.

“Micah? Are you alright?”

You sit up to face Micah, noticing the flush on his cheeks which wasn’t the fault of the whiskey and the way his attention was on sloshing the liquid in the glass.

“I am gettin’ old sweetheart, at least in terms o’ outlaws—“

“Micah what are you saying?”

You stare at him confused, completely unprepared for what he says next.

“— ‘m saying that i love you and yer the only one I’d ever wanna grow old with.”

Your eyes widen, in fear? in hope? You weren’t quite sure, maybe it was shock at the fact Micah Bell had said he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“B-but I thought you didn’t want redemption!? I thought you never wanted to leave the gang, this life!”

Micah shakes his head, putting down your glasses and taking his hands in yours as he squeezes them to reassure himself more than anything.

“I didn’t— I don’t. Oh hell I don’t know what I want but I would throw it all away for you, if its what you wanted.”

He seems to regain some of his confidence after a deep breath and he waves his hands in front of you as he tries to formulate what he wants to say.

“Ya’know have a house and all that…”

You smile gently, your heart melting at the thought that Micah would give up everything for you. You lean forward, taking his hands and threading your fingers before kissing him.

The kiss depends as you momentarily forget where you are and you both start to let your hands wander lower over each other until Micah knocks the glass of whiskey over.

Pulling back from where you’d almost crawled on top of him, you smile sheepishly and sit back down on the rock. This time you sit between Micah’s legs so his arms can rest in your lap and his head can rest on your shoulder.

“Well a house and all that can wait since I’m perfectly happy growing old with you robbing and thieving our way across the plains.”

Your head rests against his own as you feel him litter soft kisses over your shoulder and neck.

“Sounds like something I could get used to.”

Micah whispers his words against your skin and the two of you enjoy the peace and each other’s company. Your hand gives his own a reassuring squeeze, letting your eyes close as you relax and listen to the sound of the river flowing.

“As long as I have you and get to celebrate a hundred more birthdays with you, I’ll be the happiest person in the world.”

Micah squeezes your hand back, sitting up so you could get comfortable against his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“Not sure ‘bout a hundred but you have me for as long as this world lets me darlin’”

You hum sleepily, getting closer and closer to sleep as you listen to his gravelly voice.

“Promise?”

“I Promise”

[micahscowgirl]

Bite Me ~ Chapter 6

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (finally), cussing, biting kink (w/blood)

Word Count: 2550

Wow. This just happened.

Chapter 6

“What’s taking you so damn long?” 

“Quit yappin’,” you sternly bite back at Micah through the curtain. “I’m not even done trying everything on”

Micah has brought you to the tailor shop in Valentine to pick out some new clothes. You have a small pile of garments sitting on the bench and floor next to you. You wouldn’t admit to Micah, but you have already tried everything on, but are debating between a few options. 

After trying on a very different combinations of tops and pants, you finally settled on a grey, long-sleeved button up, a leather jacket, and black riding pants. You pull the curtain back and do a quick little model for Micah, fully aware of the flattering fit of the pants. 

“So, what do you think?”

“My, my,” He starts, “who’re you trying to impress, doll?” 

You shoot him a quick glance before returning to collect the clothes you didn’t want. “A lady’s got to make herself presentable, don’t you agree?”

When you turn your head towards him again, you notice him biting his bottom lip while admiring you. His hat was tilted in front of his eyes, so he didn’t realize you caught him. The sight gave you butterflies and you felt yourself throb slightly. You quickly push any thoughts that might have been making their way into your head away.

“So, uh, what do you normally do whenever the camp moves without you?” you try to make conversation.

“Well, it’s definitely not as simple as asking around. Hey Mister!” He begins to mock towards an imaginary man. “Can I bother you with a question? You see, I’ve lost my crew, most of whom have a huge criminal bounty, you wouldn’t happen to know where they headed off to, do ya now?”

This puts a grin on your face, “Well, well, Mister Bell, I never would’ve pegged you for the comedic type.”

He smiles, “Well, doll, I don’t show that side to many people.” When he makes eye contact with you, he turns away and clears his throat, “Ahem, anyway we should, uh, probably be off now.”

He pays the shopkeeper for your clothes, and walks out of the shop, leaving you to finish folding the clothes. You know you should be upset, but you’re not. You can’t help but feel sorry for him. 

I wonder why he conceals himself so much. And what makes me different from everyone else?

~~~~~~

Micah had tracked the wagon trail tp the train tracks before turning towards town that morning, so that’s where you returned to. It was a silent ride, so all you had were your thoughts. No matter how many times you tried not to, you couldn’t stop thinking of the way he looked at you in the shop. What was he thinking about? Was he simply admiring you? Or was he imagining all the things he would do to you, given the chance? 

“You ain’t falling asleep back there, are you?” He startles you out of your thoughts. Without realizing it, you had slowly started to lean onto his back, like you had slept the night before.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I was just, uh, lost in thought.” you stutter, trying to not make anything obvious.

“Oh? What were you thinking about, doll?”

Oh my God, does he know? He couldn’t know, right? Or--

“Micah? Is that you?” someone calls from up ahead. 

“Yeah, me and Y/N.”

Bill steps from behind a tree, “Camp’s right up ahead.” he says to Micah. As y’all pass him, he nods to you. “Glad you made it back safe.” After some distance is made, Micah scoffs.

“Figures.” He says.

“What?”

“They’re only glad you made it back.”

Without knowing what to say, the trot towards the camp is a silent one.

Once you arrive at camp, you begin to notice the same reaction from everyone.

“Y/N, you made it!” Arthur walks up to the horse. Micah hops off, and knowing you’re still sore from the night before turns to help you, but not before Arthur beats him to it. “Dutch was so worried about you after he sent you off to Strawberry.” You accept his help and Micah turns and walks away stubbornly off into the trees.

“I ran into some trouble up that way, thankfully Micah was there to save me,” you say, giving him the credit. Even so, it was brushed away.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” Mary-Beth chimes in, taking you by the arm and pulling you away. “Charles and Hosea said they’d hitch your tent if you made it back today.” You turn your head and get one more glimpse of Micah before he is erased by the trees. I wouldn’t be back if it wasn’t for him.

~~~~~~

The afternoon is full of celebration led by Dutch. You can’t help but feel that this is his way of hiding that he did choose to move without waiting for you or sending anyone to find you. If it wasn’t for Micah, you’d be dead or even worse. “You’re going to be my little whore.” The voice of the O'Driscol echoes in your head. 

Even though your sitting in front of a warm fire and everyone is singing and laughing, you can’t help but feel cold and sad. Micah hasn’t come back since he walked off earlier. He’s the one who saved your life and no one batted an eye for it. 

When no one is paying attention, you stand and sneak your way to behind the tents. You make your way over to the horses and Baylock is still there. For the first time all night, you felt a small smile sneak it’s way onto your face. Micah must still be here somewhere.

“Y/N,” you jump and turn to see Arthur walking towards you. “What are you doing over here? You missing all the fun!” Arthur isn’t a heavy drinker, but you can tell he’s a little more than tipsy. 

“I just needed a moment from the crowd.” You say, trying to hint at him to leave. With no prevail, you continue. “I was just going to take a small walk by myself.”

“Well, I can keep you comp’ny!” he slurs. 

Dammit, Arthur.

You have an idea. “You know, Arthur, I think Mary-Beth has quite the thing for you.” He looks intrigued. “And, coming from a women’s perspective, a nice cool night like this is quite the romantic setting. I think you could make a pretty good move tonight.” You wink. 

“You really think so?” he ponders the idea. “If you think I have a chance, maybe I’ll go for it!”

You gentle grab his arm and turn him to face the camp. “Go get’em, cowboy.” 

You sigh as he makes his way back to the camp, now to find Micah.

~~~~~~

You had made your way into the trees. Thankfully, the moon was bright tonight and you could see under the shade of the trees. Finding him shouldn’t be a problem. Your confidence grew thin the longer you looked, though. You were about to give up when you saw a small wisp of smoke glow from behind a tree. The pine needles beneath your feet made it hard for him to hear you, so you speak softly as to not startle him.

“Micah, is that you?” 

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You approach the tree he is leaning on and turn to face him. He is sitting on the ground and his head is tilted so you can’t see his eyes. You want nothing more than to see them and get lost in their deep blue color.

“What’re you doing way out here?” You know the answer, but you needed something to say.

“Same thing I always do, sweetheart. Avoiding those who despise me, which unfortunately seems to be everyone at the moment.”

After a small pause, you say, “I don’t despise you.”

He takes a long draw from his cigarette before he looks up. “And why is that? What do you see in me? ‘Cause there ain’t nothing here worth giving two shits about.”

You can’t think of anything to say that won’t set him off. You can tell he’s right on the edge of snapping.

He sighs, “That’s what I thought, there ain’t--” He stops when he sees you walking towards him.

You move so your standing over him, one foot on either side of his legs. He flicks away his cigarette and slowly runs his hands softly up your legs. Once he reached your thighs, you lower yourself to straddle him. Your heart is pounding, but you don’t want to let him see how nervous you really are. 

One of his hands stops on your hip, while the other one continues. He runs his fingers up your arm, following them with his eyes. They brush over your shoulder, onto your neck, and down your jaw. He finally makes eye-contact with you making you shiver. 

“Now what do you think you’re up to, doll.” 

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you place your hands on his chest, grab the fabric of his shirt, and lean in to kiss him. You pull away, stopping only a few inches back, just so you can look into his eyes. 

He moves one hand around your waist and the other gets lost in your hair as he pulls you in to a much deeper kiss. As his tongue enters you mouth, you begin to feel yourself throb. You’ve been hoping for this for so long and it’s finally happening. Your heart beats faster as you begin to grind against him slowly but rough.

He pulls himself away from the kiss. “Are you sure you want this? With me?”

You reach down to start undoing the buttons on your shirt. “I want this. I want you, Micah.”

You pull off your shirt and your battered undershirt, revealing your breasts. He glances at you approval before he grabs them. He leans back in to kiss you. As he moves his hands to hold your waist again, he grazes your nipple, causing you to moan into the kiss. That must’ve been what did it for him because he grabs tightly onto your hips. 

“If you want me, your gonna need to loose these,” He runs his fingers down your pants. Before you can respond, his thumb has reached down the the seam right in-between your legs. You didn’t realize how wet you had became until he started to apply pressure. You let out a small moan again. You were so sensitive from anticipation for the moment, you could hardly stand it.

He begins to rub more as he leans in to start sucking on your neck. It’s becoming too much for you; you want him so bad. You reach down, moving your hand past his to grab onto his bulge through his pants. When you do this, he bites down onto the spot he had just made on your neck, causing you to whimper. All at once, he removes his mouth from your neck and his hand from your pants. You let out a sigh, missing the sensation. 

He starts to undo his belt. Taking that as a sign, you stand to remove your pants and panties. Wasting no time, you straddle him again. 

“This is your last chance, doll, you sure you want this. I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Yes, Micah, please. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

He smiles as he moves his hand back down, starting to run small circles or your clit. “Trust me, princess, I’ve been wanting this too.”

You lean in to kiss him again, trying to silence your moans. He slowly begins to move two fingers to enter you. You can’t hold back the whimpers escaping your throat; you crave him so much.

He continues to rub your clit with his thumb as the two fingers curl inside of you.

“P-please, Micah, I can’t take it. I want you.”

As much as he was trying to hold back as long as he could, your begs pushed him over once again. He reaches into his pants and pulls out his dick. 

“Look at me,” He says. You do as you’re told. You bite your lip as he rubs his member over your clit and entrance, wetting himself with your slick. All at once, he shoves himself into you, causing you to let out a loud moan. He reaches up and covers your mouth.

“Shhh. You don’t want the whole camp coming over here and interrupting us, do you, doll?” He hisses. You shake your head, his hand holding back muffled whimpers as you get use to his size. Once you’re quiet, he moves his hand away. “Good girl.” 

He grabs onto your hips tightly, his thumbs digging into them hard. He lifts you and slams you back onto him. Another moan tries to escape you. “I’m not going to continue until I know you can be quiet, babe.” he teases. You pout your lips at him. He smiles and tilts his head, exposing his neck from underneath his hair. You look at his neck then back at him. He grins.

“Bite me.” he says in a deep tone that you can feel in your chest, causing you to shiver and tighten on his cock that’s deep inside you. “Well?” he smirks.

You put your arms on his shoulders and place your lips on his neck. You can’t imagine actually biting him, that would hurt too much, right?

He starts to slowly lift you and thrust into you. You wants to moan so badly, but you know he’ll only stop again. You keep your lips shut tightly, keeping them pressed up against him.

He begins to thrust harder, grinding your clit against him every time. It’s too much and you open your mouth to moan, but instead bite down onto his neck. You hear him snarl and feel a growl in his throat. He speeds up, lifting you high enough each time to take in his whole shaft. He pounds into you, you feel your clit start to throb more and more and your insides tighten. 

You start to taste the metallic flavor of blood right as you tip over the edge. You can’t help it, you pull away from him to arch your back and ride through your climax. The feeling keeps getting better and better. You sense he’s lifting you lower as his arms grow tired. You begin to lift yourself, riding him until he’s finished. You feel his cock grow stiffer and begin to throb as he’s about to come.

He reaches up and grabs your hair, pulling you forward into a sloppy kiss. He reaches down and grabs your hips a final time to slam into you as hard as he can. He let’s out a deep moan through gritted teeth and he finishes, filling you up. This causes you to let out one final moan before you fall onto his chest.

“God-dammit, Y/N.” He pushes you up so he can look at you. “What the hell got into you?” 

You smile, too exhausted for words. You lean forward and lick the small drops of blood from his neck.

“You wouldn’t happen to have enough space in that tent of yours for one more, would you?” he says. He leans forward to leave a small trail of kisses up your neck and across you jaw.

“Hmm, I think I can make some room.”

[soggytapeworm]

Round 2 Result Summary

Songs Remaining:

Vampire Reference in a Minor Key

Dr. Sunshine Is Dead

Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones)

Cotard's Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca)

The Song with Five Names, a.k.a. Soapbox Tao, a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government, a.k.a. You Can Never Know

Front Street

Love, Me Normally

BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA

…well, better than the alternative

Cicada Days

Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!

Against The Kitchen Floor

Your Body, My Temple

Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture

Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!)

Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

When Somebody Needs You [Song]

Songs Eliminated (in Round 2 ONLY):

Becoming The Lastnames

Misanthrapologist

That’s Enough, Let’s Get You Home.

Venetian Blind Man (Song)

The First Step

Welcome to Camp Here & There

Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D.

Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll

Ferryman

White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?)

Yes, to Err is Human, So Don’t Be One. (Song)

Under A Technicolor Sky

Mr. Fregoli and the Diathesis-Stress Supermodel, Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Con (An Untitled Track)

Willard!

Everything is a Lot

2012

Um, it’s Kind of a Lot

Everything Is A Lot:

3 songs left (Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones), Front Street, Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture)

10 songs eliminated (6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro / Con), ¡Aikido! (Neurotic / Erotic), White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?), Cover This Song (A Little Bit Mine), Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D., Red Moom, Lysergide Daydream, The First Step, Jimmy Mushrooms’ Last Drink: Bedtime in Wayne, NJ, Everything is a Lot)

SELF-iSH:

4 songs left (Dr. Sunshine Is Dead, Cotard's Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca), The Song with Five Names, a.k.a. Soapbox Tao, a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government, a.k.a. You Can Never Know, Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In!)

4 songs eliminated (Self-, 2012, Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to the Fusiform Gyrus), -Ish)

The Normal Album:

5 songs left (Love, Me Normally, BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA, …well, better than the alternative, Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!), Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally)

5 songs eliminated (2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.), I / Me / Myself, Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples, Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave, Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world)

In Case I Make It:

3 songs left (Vampire Reference in a Minor Key, Cicada Days, Against The Kitchen Floor)

13 songs eliminated (Tomcat Disposables, Becoming the Lastnames, Euthanasia, Falling Up, Um, it’s Kind of a Lot, Half-Decade Hangover, You Liked This (Okay, Computer!), The Main Character, Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll, Big Fat Bitchie’s Blueberry Pie, Christmas Tree, and Recreational Jell-o Emporium a.k.a. “Mr. Boy is on the Roof Again” (Feat. Pasta by Sneakers McSqueakers) [From “B.F.B.’s B-Sides: Bagel Batches, Marsh-Mallows, & Barsh-Mallows”], Willard!, White Noise)

Camp Here & There:

2 songs left (Your Body, My Temple, When Somebody Needs You [Song])

10 songs eliminated (Welcome to Camp Here & There, Morning Announcements, Venetian Blind Man (Song), Good Morning, Campers!, The Rhumba of Death, Yes, to Err is Human, So Don’t Be One. (Song), Under A Technicolor Sky, Afternoon Announcements, Under A Monochromatic Sky, Evening Announcements)

Others:

0 songs left

6 songs eliminated (Misanthrapologist, …And If I Did, You Deserved It., Ferryman, Wealth & Hellness, Alma Mater, Mr. Fregoli and the Diathesis-Stress Supermodel, Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Con (An Untitled Track))

[ttuesday]

Hey, my 🤏🇮🇪👻,

I am very much not feeling well today. Its almost like flu but less severe though my body feel like its been by an artic 🥺

Canoo do my 🤏🐭🤠 looking after a reader who feels so awful, they're wrapped up in bed, but insisting to the camp chores

🤏🐭🤠 that she fj e.

Word Count: ~1,580

~No smut unfortunately :( just some angst and floof~

You first felt awful in the early morning. Your head felt heavy, you couldn't concentrate on anything and you got that strange shiver up your spine. It was like you had a dark cloud that followed you wherever you went in camp. 

Your energy had dwindled significantly before you even had your morning coffee. As you trudged around to start your daily chores, you couldn't help but feel like you were dragging around some kind of invisible ball and chain. 

Having the day off seemed like a nice idea but you knew that would end up doing more harm than good. If you didn't do your chores then Tilly or Mary-Beth would have to do the extra work which would make their day worse.

You settled on the best option being to continue with your day as normal as possible. You saw the likes of Arthur and Lenny give you slightly concerned looks as you carried some hay over to the horses, using a lot more effort than you usually did. But it was Micah who was the first to comment on your sick demeanour.

"Darlin" he drawled, coming up behind you as you finally dropped the hay. Once Micah got a good look at you, he furrowed his brow. "Ya look like death" he pointed out. "Thanks for the reminder" you scoffed, turning on your heels and walking away.

You and Micah had been friends for a long time. When you first met him, you could barely stand to be around him but slowly (kinda like a fungus) he began to grow on you. There was no doubt in your mind that Micah was always going to be tough to get along with but somehow, ye made it work. 

"You ain't sick, are ya?" Micah asked, jogging a little to catch up with you. "No I'm not sick, I'm fine" you huffed, feeling another chill crawl up the back of your neck.

Micah stayed quiet for a moment. You didn't look at him so you missed how Micah questionably raised his eyebrow when you said that. He waited a few seconds before commenting "Ya don't look fine". 

"Does it really matter if I'm fine or not?" you snapped, your voice harsher than you expected "Just leave me get back to work, go annoy someone else". 

Micah slowed his pace and let you continue on alone, knowing it's best not to push you when you're like this.

Surprisingly, Micah didn't want to argue with you. Micah had yet to figure out why, but for some reason he didn't want you to dislike him. Maybe it was because you were the only gang member that actually put in the effort to befriend him.

Whenever Micah thought too much about it, he got this fluttering feeling in his chest so he quickly dismissed his thoughts.

---

The next time Micah saw you was just after noon. Thankfully, you were no longer hauling hay around but you were helping Pearson prepare the stew.

Micah knew he wasn't the most hygienic person but he wasn't too sure if it was a great idea to have you near food. Sighing to himself, he strolled over to you and leaned against the table. 

You saw him walking over but decided to ignore him. You were in no mood to deal with him. Micah stayed quiet for a few seconds, watching as you chopped up a potato. You tried to ignore him, scrunching up your nose a little as you focused on your work.

"Try not to get any snot on the veg" Micah observed. Your grip on the knife tightened but you were determined to ignore him.

You've seen Micah pick at people and make comments in the hopes of getting a rise out of them. From seeing these previous interactions, you came to the conclusion that ignoring Micah would be the best way to get him to leave.

Micah wouldn't admit how annoying it was that you didn't reply but he had another plan in mind. "Pearson" he called out, waving his hand and practically ordering the man over. Glancing over to Micah, you gave him a confused look as Pearson made his way over.

"Now I ain't no chef," Micah raised his hands slightly "but I don't think having someone that's sick handling the food is a good idea".

Pearson's eyes went wide as he looked from Micah to you. "Y-you're sick?" he asked, his tone frantic "I'm trying to run a real kitchen here and you're sick?". "I'm not sick!" you protested "I'm just tired".

Pearson dragged his hand down his face as he muttered "Oh my god, you're sick".

Huffing, Pearson shooed you away from the food "Go on, get away from here and go relax for a while". You reluctantly moved away from the food, making sure to give Micah a death stare as you did. 

You marched off but before you could get far, you saw Micah near you again. "Oh just go away, Micah" you scowled "have you not ruined enough for me?".

"You're sick, doll" he repeated again, hoping that maybe this time you'd accept it.

"No I'm not," you denied "the only thing I'm sick of is you and you're... you...". That cloudy feeling in your head tightened and you suddenly lost your train of thought. You closed your eyes to try and regain your focus but instead you swayed, your feet stumbling slightly. 

"Woah there" Micah put his hands on your back and by your ribs to steady you.

You wanted to push him away, tell him that you were fine but deep down you knew that you weren’t. A wave of tiredness washed over you and you leaned into Micah. Every part of you was either fragile or aching. "You think you can walk to my tent?" Micah asked "I think you oughta lie down for a while". 

You attempted to answer him but all you could do was groan and nod your head. Micah held on to you as ye both shuffled over to his tent together. You continued to lean against him, your eyes closed as the hot southern sun glared down on you.

"Here," he muttered, taking off his white hat and hastily plonking it on your head "don't want you getting heat stroke too".

When you got to the tent, Micah guided you down to his bed before closing the flaps of the tent. Being out of the sun made you feel a little better, though your body continued to ache whenever you moved. “How the hell did you get a tent?” you mumbled, glancing around with tired eyes.

Micah chuckled, out of all the questions you could’ve asked, he didn’t expect that one. “Cause I’m a hard worker” he replied as if the answer was that obvious. You scoffed but even that seemed to make your head feel worse.

You scrunched up your face, trying your best to tolerate the pain. “You think it’s some kinda virus?” Micah questioned, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Could be the flu,” you groaned “or else I’ve overworked myself lately and this is my body’s way of thanking me”. 

“Relax here for a while, take a nap and don’t get sick in my tent” he ordered “and stop pushing yourself, I got a robbery coming up that I’m already stressed about so I don’t need to be worrying about you too”. That last part wasn’t suppose to come out.

Micah tried to stop himself saying it but he only realised he said it afterwards. That funny feeling in his chest returned as his eyes scanned your face for your reaction. 

“Awh and there I was thinking the infamous Micah Bell didn’t care about anyone but himself” you giggled, easing the sudden dread he felt. He felt strangely thankful that you decided to giggle about it instead of looking at him in disgust. Micah always liked your laugh too so it was nice to hear it... but he’d never tell you that.

“Shut it,” he feigned annoyance, taking his hat from your hat and placing it down lower on your face to cover your eyes “now get some sleep”. 

Micah stood as you joked “Aren’t you going to tuck me in?”. 

“Don’t push your luck” he huffed. Micah glanced behind his shoulder as he walked to the entrance of his tent, watching as you snuggled into his pillow. Usually he gets frustrated with himself whenever he realises you’re making him smile but this time he decided to let it slide.

Just before Micah could step out of the tent, you gently called to him “Micah?”. He stopped, turning back to look at you. “Thank you for taking care of me” you peeked out from his hat, a shy smile on your face. 

Damn you and your kindness. There was that fluttery feeling in his chest yet again. It took Micah a few seconds to reply. He was too busy trying to control the warm sensation in his cheeks to think of a quick witted response. Clearing his throat, Micah looked down at the ground “Sure, you’re welcome”.

As you drifted off to sleep in his bed, Micah sat by the campfire. He made sure to have a clear view of his tent in case you got up or needed any help before he let out a long sigh.

Micah knew it was time he sorted through all of these feelings you gave him. He had ignored them for too long and now it was finally time to confront that fluttery feeling in his chest.