#horse trial driving

[hrhzaratindall]

A few photos of Zara competing at Thoresby horse trials this weekend

[hag-o-hags]

It's worth noting that Disney is arguing that the plaintiff agreed to settle disputes via arbitration -- i.e. settlement -- instead of via a jury trial, NOT that Disney is protected unilaterally from the wrongful death claim. That's what "can't sue" means in this case.

A jury trial is incredibly expensive and time consuming, and I don't know where the plaintiff is located, but the trial jurisdiction is in Florida. It's not unreasonable for a TOS to include an arbitration clause in the US, especially for an entity as large as Disney. The BBC article implies that somehow agreement to the Disney+ TOS also applied to the TOS under which he bought parks tickets? And that's where the judge has to make the decision on Disney's motion. And I'm curious why the plaintiff wants to have a jury trial, since he's not asking for *that* much in damages.

I saw someone in the comments on another article say "It's horrible that someone who makes as much as Disney won't just settle this quietly out of court" -- that's LICHERULLY what they want to do, that's what the motion they've filed is for! The PLAINTIFF is the one who wants to drag it out to a jury trial.

(i am not a lawyer i just have a friend who does Law and Horses [she's basically an old west sheriff who occasionally comes out of retirement to scream about the supreme court] and also i spent the entire post correcting myself from saying "didney" please don't take anything i say as fact however also i don't think any of the lawyers quoted in that article are involved in the case either.)

What

[shady-swan-jones]

Alternative timeline

Elf-lover by mildthemes

Remember Me Like This by shady-swan-jones

Another Tale of Darkness Indeed by Hopeful_Foolx

This Fate Bound Throne by callitagift

Salt of the Sea and Iron Smoke by @poopsiekitten

Reforged in the Making by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks)

Bound to His Being by ChapterEight

A Deal with the Devil by Iblametumblrformyproblems

Poison & Wine by @coraleethroughthelookingglass

Human Halband

what makes night within us may leave stars by essaupe

These Hands are Rated E for Everyone by NumquamCedam

The Best Laid Plans by @ichabodjane

The Heat & The Pulsing Rush by AnMorrighan

The Adventures of the Low Man by @ichabodjane and @somebirdortheother

But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness, like a heartbeat, drives you mad by coraleethroughthelookingglass

Impulse Control by NumquamCedam

Young and Beautiful by @pinkorchestra

I Met the King of the Southlands Once (AND ALMOST DIED) by NumquamCedam

Back Into the Furnace by BetoWrites

I Could Get Used to This by orphan_account

Keeping Watch by @name1name1

Post season 1

Know My Name As It's Called Again by @deceivedcomet

A Lord and his Builder by @90shaladriel

Lavage by kimsey

Binding by CartaEscarlate

Beautiful Lies by Ottertale

Queen of Night and Stars by @90shaladriel

Know My Name As It's Called Again by Comet19

King of The Southlands

The White Queen by LadyRosalune

Queen of the Southlands by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks)

Unsired by @shady-swan-jones

Shake Like the Bough of a Willow Tree and First Impressions by @myfavouritelunatic

Numenor

consolations of the flesh by framboise

All It Takes To Bind You by @shady-swan-jones

cry of the mourning petrel, tooth of the sea by @rain-sleet-snow

kalopsia by properhaunt

to call dark deeds good by prettybrilliantfunny

banquets have burned for you by @conundrumoftime

Adrift by bartagnans

The Souvenir by @somebirdortheother

A Curious Case of the Cart Trying to Push the Horse by orphan_account

What Happens in Numenor by @youwearfinethingswellwriter

Hands on You by @lisenberry

A Beacon Of Stars by @jhalya

Lady of the Seas by @conundrumoftime

i cannot heave my heart into my mouth by fallofrain

Slice of Paradise by @scriberated

Perfection by @nenyabusiness

All We Are, Flood Damage In The Dark by @klynnvakarian

Season 2

Splashes of colour on shades of grey by @mirroringdust

mitosis by @orcas86

the too plentiful light by @thefudge

More Painful Sacrifices by myfavouritelunatic

Until the Dawn Comes by @scribblecat27

light of the Two Trees by dxrklina

Primal Play by thenagil

destitute of the light he once craved by @mirroringdust

That all encompassing feeling by @naldoreth

and laid her soiled gloves by by @mortaltempless

A Goodbye by @youwearfinethingswellwriter

the labyrinth that binds us by eastwynds

Teeth by @pinkorchestra

A door, once opened by @maeday1551

I put a spell on you by @sixofwaffles

Darkness Bound by no_more_doubt

Stars & Shadows by @nowforruin

if that is to be the way of things by @hazelmaines

Epic Adventures (50k+)

A tragic age by @stitchingatthecircuitboard

The Trials of Mairon by bynightmylove

That Which Lies Across the Sea by @theriverwild

I could be your king by @cliffdivingsblog

Echoes of Mairon by @hopeforchanges

Shadow-Bride by @conundrumoftime

In Case of Defeat, Break Glass by eastwynds

The Venus of Valinor by @thecoziestbean

Instruments of Salvation by @scriberated

The Lesser of Two Evils by @thrillofhope

Across That Fine Line by @myrsinemezzo

Beautiful Creature of Darkness by @pursuitseternal

Rainbow of Chaos by yletylyf

Litost and Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den by @demonscantgothere

Special fics

the nameless by bimmyou

Half Moon by vuas

The Mirror and the Palantír by @oroniel

Dubcon/dead dove

Hérincë by  @mzladybird

those who eat, those who are eaten by thehoneydoll

Until the Dawn Comes by Scriberated 

Trespassers Beware and Lord of the Werewolves by @pursuitseternal

Part 2 - Modern AU, Explicit & ABO

[lifeonmarz-blog]

The 12 houses explained: short word format

1st: Aries, Mars, Yang, Dragon, Bee, Face, Eyes, Eyebrows, Voice, Accent, First Glance, Passion, Drive, Self Esteem, 3rd Eye, Intuition, Hard on yourself, Mutable, Patience, Leader, Stoic, Muscles, Neck/Head tension, Animals, Intensity, Head scarf, Tender headed, Attracting energy vampires, Hard headed, Red, Purple, Sexual energy, Humor, Introvert/extrovert, Fear of child baring because loss of freedom, Judgement, Lymph nodes, Guitar, Fast talker, Sharp talker, Forward thinking, Warrior, Personality, Spine...

2nd: Taurus, Venus, Yin, Panda, Neck/Throat, Throat chakra, Mouth, Thyroid, Heart, Pink, Blue, Fluid, Security, Resources, Musician, Silent, Introvert, Nose, Scent, Taste, Parent, Singing, Arms, Dancing, Food, Breeze, Partnership, Sharing, Values, Luxury, Pleasure, Easy going, Soft spoken, Naivety, Split decisions, Indecisive, Moon, Father, Sturdy, Poker face, Children, Trustworthy, Grit, Victory, Horses, Trials...

3rd: Gemini, Mercury, Yin/Yang, Jack Rabbit, Hands, Feet, Speech, Tongue, Lungs, Fast pace, Exercise, excitement, Bounce back, Joy, Vigor, Youth, Fidget, Anxiety, Habits, Expressive, Musician, Storyteller, School, Journalist, Moral system, Networking, Group, Siblings, Questioning, Stocks/trading, Choices, Dedication, Picky, Options, Dare Devil, Flirt, Long lasting, Hopes, Trees/Forest, Art, Comedian, Chances, Materials, Time, Loyal, Boundaries, ...

4th: Cancer, Moon, Yin, Owl, Family, Mother, Compassion, Creation, Birth, Life, Regret, Sleep, Nipple, Breast, Anus, Stomach, Womb, Bellybutton, Heart, Sacral, Blue, White, Yellow, Ocean, Cold, Night, Cycle, Fly on the wall, Unspoken secrets, Pores, Suicide, Whispers, Distracted, Outsider, Alchemy, Caregiver, Chef, Guidance, Critical, Teeth, Passage/Gateway, Humming, Drums, Weight on your back, Pressures, Gratefulness, Gratitude, Obedience, Horse, Animals, Words that cut...

5th: Leo, Sun, Yang, Lion, Spine, Heart, Pets, Fun, Youthful, Children, Love affairs, Expression, Dance, Gymnastics, Loud, Bright colors, Short trips, Friends, Aunts/Uncles, Get togethers, Cars, Innovative, Actor, Protection, Magician, Gardening, Gossip, Alchemy, Adulthood, Relaxing, Bonding, Self destruction, Slick words, Hard work, Spotlight, Sharing, Rebuilding, Clothing, Renewed vision, Drawing board, Companionship, Grounding...

6th: Virgo, Mercury, Yin, Ant, Crane, Praying Mantis, Work environment, Routine, Structure, Time, Patience, Health issues, Hygiene, Nervous system, digestive system, Pancreas, Gallbladder, Notebooks, Writing, Movies, Home, Relaxing, Forgiving, Generous, Social Life, Bonding, Practice, Foresight, Letting go, Stable, Helpful, Tense, Pressure, Negative thoughts, Reminisce, Addiction, Sorrow, Indecision, Indigestion, Saving Finances, Strong will, Codependency, Maturing, Realizing, Criticism, Self Honoring...

7th: Libra, Venus, Yin, Dragon Fly, Peacock, Marraige, Partnership, Contracts, Joint endeavors, Kidneys, Bladder, Blood, Caring what others think, Voice, Accent, Culture, Rebuilding, Learning new ways to do, Home decor, Learning gratitude, Giving, Reseveing, Welcome home, Comfort, Jot, Warmth, Spring, Flowers, New thought processes, Building Legacy, Defending yourself, Possessions, Slower living, Connecting to nature, Center of attention...

8th: Scorpio, Pluto, Mars, Yin/Yang, Vulture, Jaguar, Phoenix Death/Rebirth, Fears, Dark, Dreams, Escaping, Running, Hoarding, Lack, Homelessness, Strength, Stamina, Restart, Hard work paying off, Legacy, Against all odds, Elimination system, Pelvis, All the holes in the body, Burgundy, Purple, Black, Sex organs, Releasing worries, Manipulation, Smothering, Misunderstood, Coffee, Over giving, Partnership, Friendship, Sensuality, Secretion, Body odor, Roses, Fruit trees, Chapel, Railroad, Balancing, Power, Unseen forces, Intimidation, Relaxation...

9th: Sagittarius,Jupiter, Yang, Donkey, Whale, Shark, Liver, Legs, Posture, Religion, Long distance, Foreign travel, New ideas, Creative thoughts, Energy, Witty, Nomad, Idealistic, Larger than life, Focused on success, Friendship, Gatherings, Social Life, Relaxing, Luxury, Boundaries, Tired, Mental Illness, Restrictions, Insecurities, Grandparents, Quiet time, Relationships, Sharing, Attention, Harmony, Rebirth, Hard work, Getting over, Time, Late night thoughts, Male role model, Weight on your back, Responsibilities, Greedy, Guarded, Proud, Protection, Unique, Lavender...

10th: Capricorn, Saturn, Yang, Sheep, Alligator Honey Badger, Cactus, Sterile, Marble, White, Grey, Cold, Winter, Snow, Reputation, Social status, Farming, Popularity, Bones, Skin, Nails, Hair, Sharp, Leather, Goat, Structure, Skin conditions, Over explaining, Hard on others/yourself, Violin, Holding onto the past, Hard choices, Seeing others happen, Collecting, Finding purpose, Unique interest, Creative ways to make money, Standing up for yourself, Tunnel vision, Sharing, Networking, Group efforts, Working on love...

11th: Aquarius, Uranus, Yin/Yang, Moose, Mongoose, Snake, Friends, Parties, Organizations, Goals, Hopes, School, Science, mutable, unique style, Different friend groups, Water, Lakes, Rivers, Driving, Circulatory System, Pituitary glands, Changing course, Fear of change, Social media, Learning to stand alone, Trusting intuition, Defending loved ones, nonchalant, Increasing expectations, Std, Dead tree, Sticking it out, Elders, Community, Taking a stand, Protest, Elections, Politics, Numbers, Releasing restrictions...

12th: Pisces, Neptune, Yin, Fish, Birds, Friends, More to go around, Letting go, Releasing Past, Decor, Eye for style, Luxury, Opinionated, Energy field, Subconscious, Mountains, Fog, Spa, Skincare, Hygiene, Safety, Frienemies, Luck, Protection, Unprovided jealously, Foreign, Secret, Being watched, Self expression, Confidence, Talents, Anxiety, Depression, Breath, Dreams, Sleeping, Ufc/boxing, Always wanting more, Magician, Plants, Sunshine, Exotic, Target, Maturity, Completion...

[theroyalsandi]

British Royal Family - Lady Louise Windsor finished second in the novice pony event at the Sandringham Horse Driving Trials, as she was supported by her doting father, the Duke of Edinburgh | June 30, 2024

[leonisandmurex]

The Duke of Edinburgh and Lady Louise Windsor in hysterics as The Duchess of Edinburgh takes part in a funny carriage driving section at Sandringham horse trials

Bonus:

[notebookqueenofnarnia]

Okay Demigods

now that Season 2 has been confirmed (!!!!!!!!!!) I am here to make my official appeal that you ALL read the books. and yes...i mean ALL the books. Because here is what you are missing if you don't:

(mostly spoiler free. mostly vibes and chaotic no context)

OG PERCY JACKSON

Percy's INCREDIBLE sarcasm

Lots of chaotic Mr. D moments

Percy's unending absolute obliviousness when it comes to: his own abilities/powers, his own feelings towards a certain daughter of Athena, and EVERYONE'S feelings towards him

the full list of Percy's felonies (it's longer than you think!)

how much Percy thinks about Annabeth, especially in the third book

The Hunters of Artemis (everyone's like 'which godly parent would you have?' but im like ??? who cares??? I'm running off with the girls to immortal to hunt men i mean monsters)

soooooooooo much Sally Jackson is the Best Mom (to everyone who walks through her door) content

BLACKJACK. TRANS ICON BLACKJACK THE PEGASUS.

Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare. (this is how the audiobook says her name every single time)

Paul Blofis

Sally Jackson, author

Poseidon: Blowfish?

HEROES OF OLYMPUS

If you don't read these books you are missing out on some of the coolest female characters Rick has created: PIPER (an iconic), HAZEL (unintentionally hilarious), REYNA (beautiful character arc), and ANNABETH's point of view will have you loving her on a whole other level, trust me

Also: COACH HEDGE

Leo

All The Ladies Love Leo

the audiobooks are INSANE. It felt like a full cast read the book, but no. it was just one insanely talented narrator.

FESTUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS (im a dragon girlie)

Personally, I spent a lot of time reading the OG 5 wondering about how Roman mythology plays into Percy's world. Uncle Rick answered my questions and answered them SO WELL

Hazel the horse girl

Frank the horsebirddolphinman

Frank, gentle himbo, my beloved son

MY FAVORITE SCENE WHICH INVOLVES PERCY NOT KNOWING HOW TO DRIVE, A HARPY, FRANK, AND HAZEL AND THEYRE ALL SCREAMING AND IM PRETTY SURE STUFF IS ON FIRE

Forced Proximity for 7 teenagers and one chaotically violent satyr (that's Coach Hedge)

Eros/Cupid being one the most genius things Rick's ever written

Percy's hate of Ares transcending god magic

(also his love of Annabeth, but that's like obvious)

PercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabethPercabe

weird barely gnome things

this one giant whose name is definitely not pronounced like female anatomy

everyone thinking Percy and Annabeth are constantly getting up to the hanky panky

a statue made me cry

Gay Grumpy/Sunshine (or should that be Death/Sunshine) origins!!

TRIALS OF APOLLO

Apollo, vain himbo of godly proportions is forced to live as Lester Papadopoulos

Percy: why

a very chaotic twelve year old daughter of Demeter

she commands Apollo around

plant magic

terrible great haikus at the start of every chapter

Sally Jackson being the best mom to everyone who comes to her door

magic shoes

a sassy magic prophetic arrow that talks in Shakespearean English

so much gay grumpydeath/sunshine content

also yes sunshine's dad is Apollo

Apollo sings

Grover! Piper! Reyna! Hazel! All the friends! Everyone

Jason! (also im sorry)

what if there were some trees who were an elite squad of warriors who also answer to the chaotic twelve year old

gay moms of the midwest

unicorns

in the last book, chiron takes the campers on a 'field trip' to help take down the big baddie and he shows up dressed as a warrior soccer mom with granola bars, water bottles, and extra swords attached to his fanny pack

a different chaotic twelve year old while fighting to the death in a building that's on fire: "CAN WE GO ON FIELD TRIPS EVERY WEEK?"

chiron: "ROSE DEAR RAISE YOUR SWORD A LITTLE HIGHER!"

okay im not going to spoil it but in the last book there is also this extremely horrifyingly violent moment that Uncle Rick somehow turns into one of the most hilarious things i've ever read

Piper in the epilogue

CHALICE OF THE GODS

more insanely funny percy first person narration

Grover, Percy, Annabeth reunite ("the gang is back together!" "The three musketeers!" "Shrek, Fiona, and Donkey!" "Excuse me?")

have you met the god of himbos? (Percy has)

SO

MANY

EASTER

EGGS

for Season one. you can totally see how Uncle Rick worked on the script and chalice together

if you liked Annabeth shoving Percy into the water....this one is for you

Percy, supreme god of snakes

the cutest cutest cutest cutest Percabeth content you will ever read

hippie gods (yes more than one)

Percy is literally obsessed with Annabeth

Annabeth already being the Jackson daughter in law

Sally Jackson and Paul and

For the record: You CAN read Chalice of the Gods without reading the other series, but please please please read all these books. The audiobooks are phenomenal.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander

Taran wanted to be a hero, and looking after a pig wasn't exactly heroic, even though Hen Wen was an oracular pig. But the day that Hen Wen vanished, Taran was led into an enchanting and perilous world. With his band of followers, he confronted the Horned King and his terrible Cauldron-Born. These were the forces of evil, and only Hen Wen knew the secret of keeping the kingdom of Prydain safe from them. But who would find her first?

The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White

Louie is very popular. Who wouldn't love a swan who can read, write, and play the trumpet? When Louie goes to camp, he meets a boy named A.G. who doesn't like birds, and since Louie is a bird, that means he doesn't like Louie. When A.G. pulls a dangerous stunt out on the lake, he realizes that Louie is a hero, after all.

My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George

Every kid thinks about running away at one point or another; few get farther than the end of the block. Young Sam Gribley gets to the end of the block and keeps going--all the way to the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. There he sets up house in a huge hollowed-out tree, with a falcon and a weasel for companions and his wits as his tool for survival. In a spellbinding, touching, funny account, Sam learns to live off the land, and grows up a little in the process. Blizzards, hunters, loneliness, and fear all battle to drive Sam back to city life. But his desire for freedom, independence, and adventure is stronger. No reader will be immune to the compulsion to go right out and start whittling fishhooks and befriending raccoons.

The Black Stallion by Walter Farley

Alec Ramsay is the sole human survivor of a devastating shipwreck. Trapped on a deserted island, Alec finds his only companion is a horse, beautiful, unbroken, and savage . . . a horse whose beauty matches his wild spirit.

The Magisterium by Holly Black and Cassandra Clare

All his life, Call has been warned by his father to stay away from magic. To succeed at the Iron Trial and be admitted into the vaunted Magisterium school would bring bad things. But he fails at failing. Only hard work, loyal friends, danger, and a puppy await.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

Twelve-year-old Addie admires her older sister Meryl, who aspires to rid the kingdom of Bamarre of gryphons, specters, and ogres. Addie, on the other hand, is fearful even of spiders and depends on Meryl for courage and protection. Waving her sword Bloodbiter, the older girl declaims in the garden from the heroic epic of Drualt to a thrilled audience of Addie, their governess, and the young sorcerer Rhys.

But when Meryl falls ill with the dreaded Gray Death, Addie must gather her courage and set off alone on a quest to find the cure and save her beloved sister. Addie takes the seven-league boots and magic spyglass left to her by her mother and the enchanted tablecloth and cloak given to her by Rhys - along with a shy declaration of his love. She prevails in encounters with tricky specters (spiders too) and outwits a wickedly personable dragon in adventures touched with romance and a bittersweet ending.

Bunnicula by Deborah and James Howe

Before it's too late, Harold the dog and Chester the cat must find out the truth about the newest pet in the Monroe household -- a suspicious-looking bunny with unusual habits... and fangs!

Beka Cooper by Tamora Pierce

Beka Cooper is a rookie with the law-enforcing Provost's Guard, commonly known as "the Provost's Dogs," in Corus, the capital city of Tortall. To the surprise of both the veteran "Dogs" and her fellow "puppies," Beka requests duty in the Lower City. The Lower City is a tough beat. But it's also where Beka was born, and she's comfortable there.

Beka gets her wish. She's assigned to work with Mattes and Clary, famed veterans among the Provost's Dogs. They're tough, they're capable, and they're none too happy about the indignity of being saddled with a puppy for the first time in years. What they don't know is that Beka has something unique to offer. Never much of a talker, Beka is a good listener. So good, in fact, that she hears things that Mattes and Clary never could - information that is passed in murmurs when flocks of pigeons gather ... murmurs that are the words of the dead.

In this way, Beka learns of someone in the Lower City who has overturned the power structure of the underworld and is terrorizing its citizens into submission and silence. Beka's magical listening talent is the only way for the Provost's Dogs to find out the identity of this brutal new underlord, for the dead are beyond fear. And the ranks of the dead will be growing if the Dogs can't stop a crime wave the likes of which has never been seen. Luckily for the people of the Lower City, the new puppy is a true terrier!

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

In the kingdom of Ayortha, who is the fairest of them all? Certainly not Aza. She is thoroughly convinced that she is ugly. What she may lack in looks, though, she makes up for with a kind heart, and with something no one else has-a magical voice. Her vocal talents captivate all who hear them, and in Ontio Castle they attract the attention of a handsome prince - and a dangerous new queen.

Trickster's Duology by Tamora Pierce

Alianne is the teenage daughter of the famed Alanna, the first lady knight in Tortall. Young Aly follows in the quieter footsteps of her father, however, delighting in the art of spying. When she is captured and sold as a slave to an exiled royal family in the faraway Copper Islands, it is this skill that makes a difference in a world filled with political intrigue, murderous conspiracy, and warring gods.

[thewhitewitch-bitch]

In Astris Supra (Chapter 5: Circulus Insutus Fato, Portas Abditas Resera)

Agatha Harkness x F!OC

Read it on AO3

October 1710

There is no amount or combination of words sufficient enough to capture the true horror of war. Even those who avoid the front face of conflict are subject to the cruelty and tragedy that befalls men at arms. There is heartbreak, sorrow, and a pain so immense that it blankets the battlefield and all that surrounds it like a straitjacket, constricting everything until it chokes both sides of the conflict and creates suffering. 

I had not truly known suffering like that. Not even when I left Salem behind in pursuit of a nobler calling, one that would hopefully allow me to one day return to Agatha Harkness and offer her a solution. At the time, I could only assume that she had remained in Salem, carving out her own place in the town and wreaking havoc on those who dared to get in her way. From what I could gather, based on the cries of newsboys from Boston to Philadelphia, the Witch Trials had come to an end, the town nearly destroyed by their own paranoia. It made me wonder just how much influence Agatha had gained in just a few short months, made me try to recall if I could have had the opportunity to see the signs of her inevitable descent into power mongering. 

But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to think that she had done so willingly. The love that I had for her remained, despite my best efforts to suppress it. At night, I dreamed of the days we spent together, when there was no barrier between us, no coven driving a wedge between her and her potential for good. Those memories would bring on what ifs that were as blissful as the feeling of her touch on my skin. What if we had left Salem before her mother had found us out? What if I had told her of my love for her before it was too late? What if we could have been happy simply being together, with no magic to get in the way?

"Lots on your mind this morning, eh, Ms. Stuart?" 

My thoughts were abruptly cut off by the voice of the man I was traveling with. Looking over at him from the back of my horse, I smiled wistfully and nodded. Dr. Rupert Kingsley was a rather handsome and kind young man, who came straight off the boat from London proper, with wide, dark eyes and light brown hair the shade of molten bronze. Had my interests been aligned with his, I likely would have married him as soon as the opportunity presented itself, but he was well aware that our paths were parallel to each other, never meant to cross but rather to guide each other to the right destination. So, as a talented young physician, with no ward or servant, he accepted me as an unofficial student and permitted me to travel with him as he moved from Boston northward along the coast of the colonies and into the wilds of French-controlled Acadia. 

"There's always a lot on my mind, Dr. Kingsley. Today though, the thoughts are just a tad bit louder than usual." I replied, tightening the grip on my reins. My gaze fell from the doctor to my hands, buried in the black mane of my mare.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Rupert said solemnly, "But I'm afraid you're going to have to silence them. There's no place for loud thoughts on the battlefield. If you want to be a doctor, and I know you do, you have to calm your mind and senses. Leave no room for distractions, they only lead to mistakes, and mistakes lead to death." 

"Of course."

We did not speak again after that, instead allowing the silence to be filled by the beat of our horses' hooves beneath us as we urged them forward to a lively trot and continued on the path northward. It had been a week since we had crossed into Acadia, and with Lieutenant-General Nelson on the move with nearly 2,000 men intent on laying siege to the French at Port Royal, we had little time for dawdling.

The troops were meant to make landfall at their destination any day now, a cohort of doctors and their associates not far behind. From there, it was simply the task of removing the French, an objective that had proven surprisingly difficult for the British forces as of late. But the British were unwilling to cave, which was why Dr. Kingsley thought it the perfect opportunity to 'break me in' to the world of mortal medicine. I was thankful that he remained blissfully unaware of my magic, the late nights spent practicing healing spells on wounded animals or patients that had come into his Boston office seeking extended treatment.

In combination with his medical prowess, I found that my magic was sufficient enough to reduce treatment time by nearly half, even with the most basic of spells. And while my power continued to fluctuate with the phases of the moon, I came to the discovery that at different phases, my spells reacted differently with the wounds and diseases they came into contact with. During a dark moon, I might be able to stop a person's vomiting with a simple digestive potion, but the same potion would have no effect on a patient with the same symptom if the moon was waning or it might make matters worse if administered during the full moon. Trial and error, as crude as it may sound, was the only way I was able to make any headway. The results of said experiments were all jotted down in a small black leather book that was tucked in the belt around my waist, a protective rune hidden just under the cover, making it impossible for anyone but myself to read its contents. 

Kingsley thought nothing of it, mostly because he didn't know that I had anything to do with sudden improvement or worsening of conditions amongst his patients. I intended to keep it that way for as long as I could, or at the very least until the end of this war that Queen Anne was so insistent upon waging. 

We trotted onward, surrounded on either side by pine trees and fog, dense and chilling in the early autumn air. The sun was hidden behind a heavy layer of gray clouds, the smell of petrichor hung over us warning of the impending autumnal rains that were sure to hit the shore at any time. The encampment for doctors and their associates was just past the bend in the road ahead, supposedly nestled amongst the pines beside the sheer cliffs of the Acadian shoreline. The not-so-distant sound of crashing waves roared and receded in its powerful, natural rhythm as we trotted on.

As we moved to the right of the road to take the bend, I felt a sudden presence, ancient and dark, reaching out to me from within the darkness beneath the trees. I tugged on the reins, bringing my mount to a halt as I scanned my surroundings. Under my breath, I muttered, "Mater divina me defendat hodie." 

A seductive chuckle echoed in my ear, though I couldn't tell what direction it came from. My head began to swivel back and forth, trying to find the source, only stopping when I came face-to-face with a woman dressed in hues of black and green. The cloak she wore seemed to fade into wisps of smoke as she stood not but five feet from me, a crown that appeared to crafted from fossilized thorns and obsidian resting atop the hood she wore. She had an entertained half-smirk upon her darkly painted lips, her eyes deep brown as the earth as they met my hazel gaze. 

"Prayers aren't going to get you anywhere, princess. Not here, at least." she said with a bit of a laugh. My horse snorted and began to spook, shuffling away from the woman with a frightened snort. Not wanting to agitate her further, I slid from her back and let my boots land softly on the grass, keeping the reins in one hand as I tilted my head at the woman before me. 

"You seem... familiar to me, and yet I know I've never seen you before in my life." 

"I get that a lot." 

There was a change of the light for only a moment, but in that brief time, I saw that the attractive face of the woman in front of me had changed. The lower half of her skull was exposed, no sinew or flesh to cover it, no blood or muscle to keep it living and the exposure spread down to her throat, where her esophagus sat nestled between two walls of cartilage. Just as quickly as the change appeared, it reverted back, and recognition hit me like a wall of stone. 

"Lady Death." I whispered. 

She smirked again, "In the flesh." 

I should have been terrified, scared to... well, death. But there was something about her that told me there was no need for fear. She wasn't here for me. So why was she standing in front me now?

"Why reveal yourself to me?"

She shrugged and began to circle me and my horse slowly, "There's something about you... you're important. And as much as I hate having Lunar witches walking around, you need to stick around for a while."

"That’s not an answer."

"Are you sure?"

I glared at her. She continued to smile back. When I wouldn’t relent, her grin dropped and she rolled her eyes. 

"You do know that most Lunar witches don’t live longer than a century, right?"

"I’m aware I’m on a doomed path.” I replied, trying to mask the slight tremble of my voice with a sharp edge, “A Lunar witch comes around maybe once every three hundred years. They never live long enough to teach the next one. Though I know you’re well aware of that."

"And yet, here I am, telling you that you’re the odd woman out."

"Why? What do you have to gain from my survival?"

Death scoffed at me, as if the whole concept of existence was amusing to her, "Nothing, actually. I'll lose more than I gain with you in the picture. But greater forces in this universe seem insistent on keeping you alive, so alive you’ll stay for now. But I must say, I'm looking forward to checking in on you over the next few centuries." 

I paled, there was no way to hide it, "What do mean?" 

"You're going into war, Aislin!" she exclaimed, as if it weren't obvious, "My favorite stomping grounds! We'll be seeing a lot of each other, I wager. Though I'm sure you'll be sick of me soon enough." 

She stopped her circling and looked to me full on, the intensity of her earthy eyes feeling as though they could bury me beneath the soil with just a hard enough glance. The around me seemed to shift, the petrichor smell growing steadily stronger. With a final smile, she offered me a sultry wave and said, "Te veo." 

And suddenly, I was alone in the clearing.

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

The doctors that had been summoned to serve did not take kindly to women in their presence. Of course, they had to tolerate the caretakers who sacrificed their white linens to the spatters of blood and fragments of flesh, but to have a woman stand among them as a student of the art, was far less palatable. After all, women had no place amongst the respectable ranks of surgeons and physicians, nor did the Iroquois healers who offered their services as their own warriors joined the British forces gathering on the coast, though given the choice, I'd have taken care from the Cayuga over Charles Cromwell any day. 

Kingsley found me as I led my horse on foot through camp aimlessly with my saddle pack and bedroll tucked under my free arm. He had taken no notice of my sudden absence, nor had he been subject to a surprise meeting with Death herself, but simply kept on riding to camp, claiming his large-framed tent and a much smaller one beside it. 

"Ah, did you get lost, Miss Stuart?" he asked me with a charming grin, "Or were you simply taking in the scenery?" 

"A bit of both I suppose." I answered honestly. I took my horse to the hitching post and tied her there, allowing her access to the trough and a bale of fresh hay before turning back to the young doctor. "Have I missed anything?" 

He shook his head, "Nothing at all. Lieutenant-General Nelson won't make landfall 'til midday on the 'morrow, at which time we'll board a smaller vessel and cross the channel to wait for incoming wounded and dead. I should warn you though, this siege may take weeks, months even. You still have time to return to Boston-"

I held up a hand to silence him, sending a sharp glare his way, "As much as I respect your offer, Rupert, I simply must decline. Despite the maliciously loud whispers I've heard about this camp already, I am most certainly needed here, so here I will stay. I do not shy away from the sword when it is flashed in my face." 

Kingsley's grin softened in understanding, a small nod rocked his head back and forth, "Spoken like a true fellow of medical academia, Miss Stuart. I suggest you take the evening to study, and if you're so inclined, I'd write to your family. Simply because we bear the caduceus, it does not mean we are immune from cannon and gun fire. You'll find all you need for the night in your tent."

Overhead, the skies finally broke, the satisfying drip of rainfall pattering against the trees and the waxed canvas tents. A few of the horses snorted in discontent but continued to eat away at the hay in front of them. As the heavy drops landed on our shoulders and heads, chilling us to the bone, we gave each other a silent farewell and retreated beneath the cover of our tents for the night. While I had no doubt that Kingsley's tent boasted all the necessary equipment he would need for operations and examinations, not to mention cigars and cheap liquor to numb his mind to the horrors incoming, mine was much reserved, containing only a camp bed with several woolen blankets, a pair of white cover aprons, and a small bedside table with a pair of lit candles.

Rupert must have placed the small stack of parchment on the table, along with an inkwell and quill. There was no way the other doctors would have extended such kindness to me, not when they didn't even want me there. Heaving a loud sigh, I dropped my bedroll and saddle pack onto the ground at my feet. I slumped onto the camp bed and let my head fall into my hands, my interaction with Death replaying over and over again in my mind.

She had told me that I was important, though at the moment, I couldn't possibly see how. And the way she had looked at me, as though I were a fresh piece of bloodied meat and she was a ravenous wolf... it was unsettling, though I suppose she always intended to be. 

"Oh, Divine Mother, what have you gotten me into?" I whispered, so softly that even I could barely hear myself. I dropped my hands and let my eyes wander back to the parchment on the small wooden table. I don't know how long I sat there staring at it, but by the time I had come to the conclusion to write, the gentle shower outside had increased to a torrential downpour, the weight of the water pounding against the roof of the tent as I dipped the quill into the murky black ink. As I took hold of the topmost sheet, I paused, wondering if sending a letter would make any difference. But then I thought of her, and the doubt melted away. I put the quill to the parchment and began to write in my most elegant script. 

Darling Agatha,

I hope that this letter finds you in suitable spirits after we departed on such egregious terms. Not that I fear for your well-being; I know you are certainly capable of taking care of yourself. I write to inform you that I have undertaken a task most unbecoming for women of our talents and station, serving as the student and assistant of one Doctor Rupert Kingsley of Boston. We, in response to the request made by the British Crown, have joined a cohort of other physicians and surgeons at a posting in Acadia, not thirty miles from the French stronghold of Port Royal, and are awaiting the order to cross the channel to provide medical assistance during the attempted siege of the fort. 

Having not heard from you in well over a decade, I am certain that you did not intend to seek me out again, and in truth, I was hesitant to write. But I am told that we, like the soldiers who will march onto the shore, will be subject to the shock and awe of war, and at the risk of walking into the next world without having settled the grievances between us, I found the courage to pen this letter. 

You may no long care for me, you may no longer wish to think of me, but I think of you often. And I shall be thinking of you on the 'morrow, when cannons roar overhead and the blood of dying men coats my hands. I shall be thinking of the days we spent in the peaceful solitude of the forest, relishing in the quiet hours that we spent together. I shall be thinking of you not as someone I once knew, but as someone I know and care for. For a witch should never abandon her coven and I, in my own anger and fear, have abandoned you.

It is my hope that upon my, with any luck inevitable, survival, that we may cross paths again, and I will once again be able to relish in peace with you as we once did. Until then, I shall think of you, darling, and hope that you think of me. 

With all my love, 

Aislin Stuart

I set the quill down and folded the parchment carefully once the ink had dried. Muttering a simple sending incantation, I lifted the letter to the candle on the left and let one corner light, before repeating the gesture with the candle on the right. I gripped the parchment tight between my fingers as the flames inched closer to my hand until I could no longer hold it. As I released my grip, I whispered, "Agatha Harkness." 

The ashes scattered in an invisible wind, drifting beneath the canvas walls of the tent and carrying my message to wherever she was. I lay back on my bed, and started at the roof in the eerie quiet, only drifting off to sleep when thunder finally began to roll in.  

[hms-lurking-latinist]

a thing I am constantly thinking about is Hobbs’ version of Mutiny/Retribution. (Specifically the show; like all characters that aren’t Horatio, Hobbs is about one-third as interesting in the book.)

It would also be a good story - and quite as plausible a one. The Captain, losing his mind admittedly, but struggling to retain his dignity and complete one last mission - the loyal gunner trying to protect him, to repay many years of good leadership - the lieutenants like four vultures waiting to pounce, the aging and disappointed first, dark horse of a second, young ambitious agitator third, indiscreet fourth who would follow the third in anything. Among the four of them they drive the noble old Captain over the brink (you’ll hear about the mutinous assembly before you hear about the paranoia) - the four of them and the young midshipman they’ve entrapped in their schemes - the poor boy will be the most sympathetic of the wicked conspirators, he’s racked with guilt and at least he dies on the right side. In the end they’re brought to trial, the dithering usurper is a laughingstock, the sidekick with the heart full of misplaced loyalty finds that his leader has taken him into disgrace and death and can’t get him out; but the moving spirit of the conspiracy, the man that everyone knows really killed the Captain as surely as if he’d died when he fell, gets off scot-free and promoted.

It’s a sad story, the way Hobbs tells it. I’m not saying it’s an accurate report of the events on screen. I’m just saying, I bet if you bought him a drink he’d tell it to you.

[morbidology]

Born in 1908 in Köpenick in Berlin, Bruno Ludke started his criminal career with petty theft. Due to learning disabilities, Ludke left school at a young age and worked in his parents laundry. When his father died, he took over his role of driving the horse and cart to deliver fresh laundry to the customers. Whilst delivering the laundry, he stole from his customers and was witnessed being harsh to his horse by whipping it, leading to several complaints from onlookers.

Ludke was shortly tested to see if he was physically and mentally fit to be working. He was found to be physically healthy but feeble-minded from birth. In 1939, a court ordered that he be sterilised. In January of 1943, Frieda Rossner was discovered murdered in the woods of Köpenick. She had been raped and strangled. Police zoned in on Ludke, who police believed “should know more” about the murder. How they came to this assessment is still unknown.

When Ludke was brought in for questioning, he confessed to the murder. He claimed he had raped fifty women over the past couple of years. Despite the fact he was mentally impaired and nobody had ever accused him of sexual assault, he was arrested. He soon confessed to 51 murders yet knew no facts surrounding the murder cases. No evidence could tie him to any of the crime scenes and no motivation was ever put forward. Ludke later said he was afraid “they would kill me if I didn’t confess.”

Ludke was never put on trial for the murders. Instead, he was declared insane and sent to an SS-run “Institute of Criminological Medicine” where he was subjected to medical experiments. In 1944, he died after an experiment went wrong.

[mediocrewallflow3r]

To Be Loved and Have Loved - (Nathan Prescott/ AFAB Reader) Pt. 1

Title: To be Loved and Have Loved

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Post-Storm Nathan Prescott/ Female Reader

Rating: Explicit- minors shoo!

Word Count: 1.7k

Content/Warnings: A continuation to @delopsia 's "To Build A Home", takes place directly after, Sloppy makeouts, Light Dom/sub, Good Nathan Prescott, Life is Strange Comic Lore, post-storm, Nathan ruining his Father's dining room out of spite, plus size! reader, Nathan being soft for only the reader, Aftercare, slight subspace, future Metallica References, Nathan Prescott Needs a Hug, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Fluff and Smut.

A/N: Hi there my lovelies! It’s been a long while. I’ve been away improving my art in college, trying to improve at writing, and becoming a part of the Tumblr community. This is a continuation of https://www.tumblr.com/delopsia/672519407059222528/to-build-a-home?source=share and will be posted in parts. Pre-writing and posting I reached out to Del and got permission to continue their lovely fic. I’m honored that I can post my writing in addition to theirs! Feedback is very appreciated and please go check out Del!

"Why do I get the feeling that you're planning something devious?" You chirp as the two of you begin walking to your car.

"How do you feel about joining me for a secret rendezvous in my father's precious dining room?".

"Why most definitely my good sir!" you gallantly respond, curtsying for dramatic effect.

"You're a fucking weirdo, you know that right?" Nathan says, shaking his head incredulously. Though, you can see the blush dusting his pale ears.

The stars above twinkle brightly in the suburban sky while you and Nathan pile into your car, excitement buzzing between the both of you.

After turning the ignition, Nathan's hand gently reaches over and squeezes your thigh. His nimble fingers toy with the tights almost bursting because of your larger thighs.

"What's that for, cowboy?".

You watch as his bright blue eyes meet yours, amusement painting his features.

Nathan adverts his gaze from the stars and meets your eyes. "Nothing in particular, nerd," Nathan smirks under your intense gaze.

Huffing, you pull out of the old church parking lot. You see in the corner of your eye Nathan waves to a few people. A smile graces your lips at the thought he considers some survivors worthy of a wave now.

Driving through the back roads of Arcadia Bay proves interesting, many broken limbs and scrap are still littering the road- hindering the ability of drivers. You try not to think about the families that may have not survived while you drive past crushed homes.

From what you've heard, Max and Chloe have found a place closer to the remnants of downtown Arcadia. According to Victoria, Max is even collaborating with her art gallery in New York. She mentioned something about Chloe working up to being a small-town mechanic. You try not to think about Mark Jefferson's ongoing trial.

"What're you thinkin' so hard about, little doe?" Nathan questions, gently. His thumb tugs and twists at your tights fervently.

"Our friends." You sigh.

"Pfftt- we have friends? Since when?".

"Since you got off your high horse and we started leaving our home more,".

Nathan tugs your tights in retaliation, snapping them back loudly for effect.

"Don't get bratty with me, Y/N, you know better,".

"That's ironic coming from you, Mr. 'The Prescott’s rule this town!'".

Nathan laughs, a real goofy laugh, his canine teeth shining bright in the moonlight.

He rolls down the windows, whooping and hollering, suddenly. Your eyes can't stray away from his strawberry-blonde hair swirling around in the breeze.

"Yeah, I'd fucking suppose so!" He shouts back over the loud wind.

Giggling quietly, your eyes catch a glance of the Prescott Manor gate between the dark trees causing you to pull into the long-winded driveway subsequently. The lights are off, as per usual. You allow yourself to enjoy the cold night air like the person beside you in the vehicle.

Hesitantly, you pull into the garage. The lights automatically turn on brightly, allowing you to see the drywall- that you know must cost more than your entire tuition. The old Nathan would have pretended not to see your shaking hands gripping the steering wheel tight, but this one can't and won't miss that shit.

Surprisingly, Nathan begins to lean over the center console, his hand moving from your thigh to gently squeeze your hand. In the corner of your eye, you see his normally death-worthy stare turn soft.

"You can relax baby, I don't care if you hit the drywall. I've done it before for fucks sake!".

"You noticed?".

"How could I have not? You're shaking like a goddamn leaf.".

You purse your lips, nodding. You know Nathan is right, but the one interaction you experienced with his father sits heavy in your mind. The anxious silence stretches whilst Nathan begins to gather your coats and other belongings from the back seat.

You hear the click of the passenger door opening and then Nathan speaking gently to you, "Let's go, weirdo.". On autopilot, you open the car door and begin walking towards the Manor doorsteps. Nathan, much further ahead of you, shifts through his keys looking for the correct one. After a few moments, you hear a quiet "a ha!" When he finds the right key.

Nathan pushes the door open with you wandering close behind him. He hits the main hallway light switch. Both of you take off your shoes in comfortable silence. You were taking much longer, the converse adorning your feet proving difficult to take off quickly.

Then, Nathan's sharp cupid bow is kissing your ear, and his rough hands gently squeeze your shoulders. "We don't have to do this tonight," he whispers into the dusted pink shell of your ear.

Oh God, but I want to.

Pushing your back firmer onto his chest, you respond bashfully, "I want this, I do, I'm just nervous.".

Nathan's hands wander, slipping under your sweater- caressing your stomach and happy trail. "Why're you nervous? It's just me,".

"I want things to be good for you,", I don't want you to leave me, remains heavy in your mind as you nervously chuckle out into the dusty Manor hallway.

Nathan's hands stop in their tracks. "Are you fucking serious?".

Unspoken words sour inside Nathans's mouth; "Do you know who I am? I've killed people. My hands shouldn't be touching your kind body. I've been with so many people, you shouldn't have second best as your first. I have to take medicine to be sane. I scream and shout at you regularly. You shouldn't trust me.".

Caressing his right-hand causes Nathan's eyes to droop warmly as he lets out a quiet, "humph".

"Ever since I've met you, I haven't wanted anybody else...", you continue, laying everything out on the table- literally.

"Then I s'pose we're on the same fuckin' page, baby. ", Nathan’s voice has got that deep, gravelly tone to it again, the tone that you remember with vivid detail, the tone he used that one Thursday morning before the storm.

Your shoulders fold inwards, warmth blooming inside your chest. Nathan's chest presses into your shoulder blades while freezing hands play with your belly button piercing, and his breath fans out across the baby hairs growing on your neck. He's everywhere but nowhere.

"To the dining room...?".

"Fuck yeah, doe-eyes.".

Efficiently, Nathan hauls you up into his lanky arms and quickly walks down the winding corridor. Abruptly, he turns to the left entering his family's large dining room. He pauses at the door briefly, allowing you to hit the light switch.

Almost immediately, the ridiculously large chandelier gracing the ceiling of the room lit up brightly. Nathan moved less than gracefully, sitting you down in a dining chair. He made quick work of the dusty table settings, quite obviously for decoration, by grasping the end of the tablecloth and yanking it off the table.

Before you could even register the loud noises of shattered glass, Nathan's soft lips were on yours. Nathan gently cradled your head, his other arm lifting you onto the wooden dining table. Soft groans settled in the back of his throat after hearing a small whimper from you.

Taking a breath, Nathan leaned forward on yours, his nose brushing gently on yours. “Easy, easy, baby,” he whispered, “It’s just me,”. Please don’t be scared of me , remains on the tip of his tongue. “I know,” you whispered back, understanding. A pause settled in the dining room, heavy gasps coming in and out of both of your lungs.

Nathan settles onto his forearms, lips brushing against yours but not entirely closing the gap, bony hips circling gently into yours. “I think I’m getting major Deja-vu right now, Nate,” you chuckled, brushing your fingers through his fiery hair.

“I don’t think this time’ll be the same,” Nathan chuckled, chin resting on the top of your sternum.

"Can I touch you?", you ask gently, hands itching to reach out and touch.

Nathan's eyes flick away from your face, his teeth beginning to chew on his lip anxiously. You feel a tremor run through his spine.

"Uh- yeah, you can touch me, just- um- tell me where before you do," Nathan stutters out, his eyes not meeting your hopeful ones.

"Okay," you whisper, smiling up at him.

Nathan's lips tug into a soft smile and his dimples show slightly despite his avoidance of eye contact.

"Can I touch uh- down there? " You nervously ask, peering up at Nathan's sharp features.

Way to fucking go Shakespeare.

Airy chuckles erupt from Nathan's lungs, his laughter shaking the both of you.

"Yes, babe, you can touch my dick, that's why we're fuckin’ here, to begin with,", he says in amusement, a smirk gracing his rose pout.

Your smile quickly shifts into a pathetic pout, and Nathan's face softens upon seeing the change in emotion. "Don't be upset baby, you're doing just what I asked," he coos at you, his fingers slightly pinching your cheek. That once faint, woodsy musk cologne invades your senses, his praise settling deep into your lower abdomen. Nathan's lips brush against yours and his tongue cheekily licks over your lips to the tip of your nose. An amused breath releases from Nathan’s lungs as you continue attempting to lock lips with him. Silently, your hand clenches up and hits Nathan’s shoulder in respite.

“Stop teasing me, you motherfucker,” you whimper out in frustration, your legs flailing underneath the weight of Nathan’s lithe body.

If he doesn’t fuck you six ways to Sunday soon, you’re going to be so pissed at him.

Nathan’s slick tongue trails over your collarbone up to the ridges of your neck slowly. His hands glide over the plush skin adorning your hips, and deep short breaths release from his nose loudly.

“I’ll tease you when I wanna’ tease you,” Nathan teases, his voice being muffled by the spot of your skin he’s worrying to death with his teeth.

In retaliation of some sort, your right hand begins drifting down towards the stiff bulge prominent in Nathan’s designer jeans. Your fingers sneak under the waistline quietly and begin brushing your hand over the curls adorning his happy trail. Nathan ever distracted with the large hickies that he’s painting your chest with, groans in surprise.

Your fingers brush over the tip of his cock gently, the girth taking you by surprise.

“When were you gonna’ tell me you were packing?”, you tease Nathan, loosely gripping his cock.

A soft, “Fuck,” comes out in a deep breath from Nathan while his fingers travel from your hips up to your plump tits.

“I didn’t plan on telling you, I planned on showing you,” he chuckles.

“Then fucking show me you tease!” you shout at him, almost playfully. Deep down you want him to snap, to let go.

Quickly Nathan’s hand gently slaps your thigh, re-establishing his commanding demeanor. He leans his face right in front of yours as his intense gaze bears down on you; “You’ll get what you want, you know that, so behave,” he hisses out.

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 6: You Gave Me the Strength to Keep Going

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader “Sugar”

Summary: It's only perfect.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: T, more yearning for Jack and his ranch, a kiss!, will be E in later chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: It's time to see what Jack's ranch is all about, and to find out exactly what he's keeping in that barn. Hint: my horsey girls will be very excited about it! There's been a dearth of horse content in this sequel but we're about to change that.

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist   ||   Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

The conversation on the drive back to Jack’s ranch is peppered with questions about Lacey’s wedding, your life in the “real world” as you both have taken to calling it, and observations of the landscape as the town thins out. Jack listens to you describe your job, tedious as it may be, and the hobbies that fill your free time. They pale in comparison to the cozy warmth of this town and Jack’s life commingled with it. The cool grays and blues of your apartment, the shimmering glass and steel of skyscrapers, the distinct coldness of how easy it is to live your life without ever interacting with another human being. None of it entices you home. 

“It must all sound boring after what you’ve been through,” you muse, Jack chuckling softly. 

“I don’t know, Sugar, I think you had some trials of your own,” he says as he parks the truck. You look at him curiously, making a smile quirk on his lips. He shrugs, shifting in his seat to face you better. 

“When we were…there…you told Mary and Jeb about a husband.” 

Mouth drying out, you recall the story with the thrum of anticipation that moment brought. Jack’s body so close, a lie because the truth was too hard to weave. The twin emotions of relief and disgust at how easy it was to imagine Eric removed from your life. 

“Now, I realized it may not have been true, but on the off chance it was I took my time making sure.”

“Sure of what?”

Jack chews his mustache, hand smoothing around the steering wheel.

“That you weren’t happily married. That I wouldn’t ruin your life by barging in if you found someone in the time it took me to find you.” 

Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment and curiosity warring.

“How?”

Now Jack’s cheeks are pinking, eyes darting to the barn outside and back to you.

“The private investigator I hired. I asked if you had a marriage certificate, and he didn’t find one. Then, I went to see for myself. Had a list of places you might be, and a few times I found you.” The hazy mist of half-formed memories drifts in - broad shoulders passing you by, a cowboy hat in the corner of your eye. You must look shocked because his eyes plead with you. “I’m sorry Sugar, I know how bad it sounds, I just…I told myself I’d walk away if I had proof.” He nods down at your hands worrying in your lap. “That tricked me for a while.” 

You look down, the muted teal of the ring on your left hand pouring realization over your head.

“It’s not a…” you stammer, but Jack interrupts with a placating wave.

“I heard. You and Lacey were talking about it. She got it for you?” 

It dawns on you that most of what you’d discussed in the past two days was Jack’s year of awakening. He knew nothing of yours. Spinning the ring on your finger, you find words that hurt less every time you speak them.

“I was engaged when I met you. Really unhappily, but I couldn’t admit it. You…you changed something for me. I went back and left him. Lacey helped me through it, and it was this ring she got me on her own Westworld adventure that made giving his back more bearable.” 

Jack’s eyes harden and soften in record time, hand flexing in his lap. You wish he would reach for yours. 

“I’m sorry you went through that, darlin’,” he says, shifting in his seat and putting one hand on the door handle.

“I’ve been a lot happier since then,” you say, a wider smile blooming on Jack’s face.

“Good,” he says, warm and thick like honey. Yanking on the handle, you find a little bravery that’s less foreign in your mouth.

“There hasn’t been anyone since,” you add. Since you sits on your tongue, but you swallow it back. His quick glance, edged with a heat that sends a frisson down your back, responds as loud as you need it.

Good.

Traipsing out, Jack saunters around the truck. A lightning bolt of white and brown streaks out from between the buildings, Russell bouncing in a tight orbit around Jack’s feet.

“Yeah, yeah, missed us Russ?” he says, the casual roll of us off his lips making your heart pound. He scratches Russell between his floppy ears as his tongue lolls out wildly. Straightening up, Jack shifts nervously with his hands on his hips.

“I thought before you head back, you might want to see the rest of the place?” he offers, your heart clenching at the way his jaw ticks side to side as he waits for your answer. It’s barely past noon, sun high and hot in the sky, the deep earthen scent of dust and clay in your nose. You wait for an objection to surface, some hard and fast desire to run from how messy and strange this all has been. 

For once, your mind is silent. 

“Yeah, show me around cowboy,” you say, and the bashful smile that one agreement elicits makes you want to kiss him.

Holy shit, you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly. 

But he’s turning and ushering you towards the barn, a steady stream of tour guide-worthy tidbits matching his stride.

“...barn wasn’t in good shape, so I fixed it up with a few other guys in town. I mostly keep the machines I work on in here, some hay and feed, you know.” Pulling open one of the large doors Jack leads you in, your eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. What looks like a delivery drone rests on the floor, a toolbox and tablet on a table nearby.

“That’s a new generation seeding and fertilizing tool, though they don’t make ‘em to last. Blades always get damaged or the motor burns out. Parts are cheap, but not many people know how to fix complex machines.” Your body continues to warm at this blatant display of knowledge and competence, being careful not to step too close to the drone. Catching Jack’s eye, you quirk an eyebrow at complex machines and he shrugs. “Lots of older folks just trying to make a living. I help them, they help me. It’s…familiar.”

Looking up, you startle as a handful of glossy glowing orbs point at you from the hayloft. Jack follows your line of sight and tsks.

“How are there even more of you now?” he exclaims, and from above a chorus of mewls tickle a laugh out of your throat. “I swear they’re making my loft a den of ill repute, but damn if they aren’t cute.” 

“Soft spot for animals?” you tease as blurry shapes move away from the edge. Jack shrugs but it’s even shyer now, Russell settling at his heel and staring adoringly at his master.

“They’re easier than people sometimes,” he says, colored with subtle melancholy. You kneel and hold a hand out for Russell, which he sniffs before allowing you to scritch his princely head. 

“I always wanted a bunch of animals when I was a kid. My parents never let me have any, didn’t want to end up taking care of them.” Russell’s tail wags furiously as he lets you roughhouse him a little, wiggling his little lean body under your hands. When you look up at Jack there’s a thick layer of fondness on his face that he hurriedly tries to wipe off.

“Well then you’ll love the rest of the zoo I’ve got here,” he says, clearing his throat as inconspicuous as he can. You bounce to your feet, excitement thrumming in your veins.

“I can’t wait,” you say, giddiness washing away the lingering anxiety in your shoulders. Jack motions you out of the barn with a flourish.

Once back outside he leads you between the house and the barn to a domestic vista that swells around you. There’s a delicate wire fence corralling about fifteen chickens, a perfect row of henhouses lined up in the sunshine. A caramel colored is strutting outside the fence, head snapping quickly to you and Jack. He tips his hat and rumbles a “Ma’am” at her, little head cocking with a cluck before returning to her strut.

“She’s the boss,” he says, brightening at your giggles as the hen patrols…well, like a mother hen. 

It’s easy to see Jack is in his element here, amongst the animals and a small town that doesn’t ask for much beyond what he can give. His eyes are bright and mirthful, hands moving quickly, and he’s lighter than you’ve ever seen him. He’s clearly home. 

“Now, for the piéce de résistance,” he jokes, opening the wooden gate around the second barn and ushering you in. 

Sunlight filters in through an opening in the roof, the rays speckled with hazy dust motes. Your nose fills with the scent of sweet hay and horse musk, and you can’t stop a smile from beaming on your face. The short walkway is lined with stables, many without doors and stacked with hay or saddle racks. A few saddle cloths drape over the partitions, sable browns and rust reds you observe as you step quietly behind Jack. 

Then, a sound that makes your body spark to life - the plosive snuffle of a horse’s snout.

“I didn’t mean to hide them from you so long, didn’t get a chance to show you before,” Jack chuckles at your open expression as a long black nose pokes over the top of the stable door. “This here’s Jet. He’s my work horse, always carrying my ass around.” He pats the onyx horse on the neck, earning another whuffle as you smooth your palm between his eyes. Jet moves with the calm self-assurance of an experienced creature, sure-footed and even tempered. 

Another, almost indignant snort comes from behind, and you turn to investigate. Just across the walkway is another stable, another occupant, and one that takes your breath away.

An Appaloosa. A long, delicate snout speckled with chestnut brown and buttery white, nostrils flaring as it tosses its silvery mane. Unbidden you walk over to it, barely aware of Jack by your side. It stomps and shifts in the stable, shaking its head again as you come within reach. 

“She’s new,” Jack says quietly, your eyes still locked on the mare as she watches you with one unblinking glossy eye. “Folks selling her said she was too ornery, but she warmed up just fine to me.” Jack reaches out to pat her neck and she settles down, still shifting on her feet. You reach out a hand to stroke between her eyes, just as you did with Jet, but she jerks her head up to smack her nose into your palm. Snickering, you redirect to stroke her soft muzzle. That touch settles her, content to let you coo at her quietly. When you finally look at Jack he’s just shy of beaming, trying to hide it beneath his dark mustache.

“Seems she warmed up to you just as nicely,” he muses, shifting a fraction closer. The heat of his body calls for yours, magnetism and comfort pulling you towards him. A sudden push from the Appaloosa’s snout knocks you off balance, stumbling a step back as you bleat out a laugh. Before you can trip any further Jack’s arm is around your waist, hands closed around your elbows to steady you. His face is just by your temple and if you turned you could be kissing him in a breath’s time. 

“Can we ride?” is what you say instead, two facets of your mind screaming at each other, but Jack’s smile only grows. 

“I thought you’d never ask, Sugar.”

Tacking up is quick and mostly silent except for the natural noises of the horses. Jack pulls out equipment for you, sweat staining the center of his shirt and curling the hair at the nape of his neck. You prepare the Appaloosa, watching for her shifting feet. She’s definitely been ridden before but there’s a bratty energy in the way she tosses and wiggles while you work. Soothing her a few times, you get her squared away before leading her out of the stables. Jack waits for you outside the barn door, Jet’s reins loose in his hands as he sits atop. 

With the afternoon sun starting to lengthen your shadows, Jack is every bit the cowboy you remember. Faded leather riding boots fit snug into the stirrups, threadbare jeans hugging his thick thighs. The sun-bleached gray of his button-up is dark with sweat, but that only intensifies how much you’d like to bury your nose in his chest and inhale him deep. He’s rolled the sleeves, exposing corded forearms dusted with hair. Wide palms and blunt fingers rest on his pommel, and the shade his black hat affords his face can’t hide the simmering pride in his eyes.

“She’s never let me tack her up that quick,” he comments as you walk up beside him. 

“She have a name?” you ask, patting her shoulder to earn an affectionate huff.

“Not yet, nothing’s come to me,” he muses. 

“I’m sure we can find something that fits you,” you placate, putting a foot in the stirrup to lift yourself up. In one forceful push you mount, swinging your leg and settling on the Appaloosa’s back. She shifts under you but stays still as you adjust your position. Satisfied, you flash Jack a scandalous look.

“What, no offer to help me up?” you tease. Jack’s eyes crinkle as a sideways smile twists his lips.

“I would never presume to be so bold with an experienced rider,” he drawls. 

“You could,” you shoot back, your own confidence surprising. “You could be bold, Jack.”

Jack’s smile softens, eyes turning contemplative.

“I guess I could, Sugar.”

You hold your gaze, electricity sparking between you on the precipice of the unknown.

Jack leads you off the main property and into the sprawling plains. He mumbles that he doesn’t own all of it, but no one else does either so he’s chosen to watch over it. The gentle sway of the horses’ gait undulates you back and forth, closer and further apart, as he points out ridges that lead to other homes, fences he’s helped build. When silence creeps in it’s comfortable, the clop of hooves a constant. 

Cresting a hill, a rust-colored valley opens up at your feet. Miles of land uninterrupted, only patches of dry desert grass and spindly trees to dot the landscape. Side by side with Jack something shifts in you, matched by the Appaloosa’s stamping feet. You lean down to stroke her neck, head tossing with a whinny.

“What do you want, girl?” you ask, the barely restrained thrum of her muscles twitching under your hand. She takes a step forward, then stops and shakes her head. You look at Jack over your shoulder, and he jerks his chin at you with a smirk.

“You wanna run?” you ask, loosening the lead on the reins. She swings her head back like she can’t believe you have to ask. “Okay, girl, let’s fucking run.”

A nudge of your heels is all she needs to take off like a shot, your body lifting and tensing as she sprints, then canters, then breaks into a full-on gallop across the dusty plains. You lean forward, outstretching your arms to move with her neck and taking your weight off her back. Thighs burning, wind whipping across your face, you let the elation of hooves slamming into the ground rip a wild laugh from your throat. Your form, your control, the magnificent beast below you and the world whipping by are all that matter. If you wouldn’t lose all balance you’d throw your arms out and try to fly. 

A blur of black comes up beside you, Jack urging Jet to keep pace. You can only glance at him, but what you can see of his handling and posture lets you know he’s giving Jet the lead to chase you. Your eyes water against the wind (or maybe something else) as the Appaloosa begins to flag, slowing as a grassier hill grows before you. With a final push, you ride her momentum to the top, gasping along with her explosive pants. Without the wind your skin is hot and sticky, legs tight from the effort of riding. Shaking your hands out, you dismount as Jack comes to a stop. 

“You sure let her out!” Jack shouts as you spin in a circle, the high of speed and freedom making every nerve sing out.

“Sure fucking did! That was…shit, yes, that was…” you try to articulate, but all you can make come from your lungs is one exuberant, primal scream that echoes through the valley. In that noise is all of the tightly-gripped pain, the fear, the disbelief that you could ever be happy thrown into the air, never to sink into your flesh again. This is joy. You are capable of joy again, and it’s thanks to a man now standing behind you, smiling like you’re a miracle he never thought he’d experience twice.

“Jack…”

His name is soft in your mouth, and when you say it his smile only deepens. Nothing could come between the pull of your bodies now, so you let yours go to him. In two steps your head is tucked under his chin, arms around his waist. He’s surrounding you, warmth and musk pressed into your cheek. Dipping his chin down, he buries his nose in the top of your head and inhales, large hand cupping the back of your neck. 

“I missed you, darlin’,” he says in a whisper, like he’s afraid you’ll spook. Your throat is so tight you can barely croak out, “I missed you too Jack.” His hand cups your cheek as he guides your foreheads together, hat tilting back on his head. Your noses glide against one another, lips barely brushing but the featherlight caress awakens a need in you that begs to be quenched. Jack’s proud nose drags along your cheek as he presses a kiss at the hinge of your jaw, worshipful in his offering. You grip his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists as he noses up to your temple, another kiss tattooed on your skin. Tilting your chin up, your eyes open to his searching your face, and he must have seen the plea in your eyes because he cradles your head in both hands and presses his lips to yours.

It’s everything and nothing like the first time you kissed Jack Daniels. There’s no tension, no anxiety, no worries coloring how you taste him. Instead there is a clawing need to be swallowed whole, to suffocate on his affections and let him devour you. The first kiss is full, promising, pulling away only enough to slip in a breath. The second is overwhelming, hard and demanding as he swipes over your lower lip and crowds your body. Opening for him, his tongue finds yours and strokes lazily against it, a choked groan pooling heat in your cunt. You press back and suck on his lower lip, the harsh pant of his breath on your cheek spurring you on. His next kiss has teeth, a forceful press into your mouth, and hands wandering to grip your waist. You accept it all greedily, stumbling into him and burying your fingers in his hair. He rips his mouth away with a gasp, chin tilting up to offer his long neck. You accept with wild abandon, licking a stripe before placing a wet kiss at the base.

“Fuck, fuck, Sugar, you sure can drive me to distraction, slow down for a second,” he pleads.

“Can’t, Jack, fuck, I can’t…” you pant, crashing you lips back against his when he tips his chin down. The groan in his chest is half frustration, half elation. Hands slide up your spine in soothing paths, tugging you flush while his lips ghost over yours.

“Not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he rumbles, rocking you on your heels while his hands sweep up and down in a gentle pattern. “Slow down, we got plenty of time. I’m right here.” 

Finally the choking need to crawl inside him dissipates, traded for the marshmallowy softness of his lips on your neck, grazing the swell of your cheek. You’re lost in the limbo of kissing Jack until a sharp nudge knocks you in the center of your back. He chuckles.

“Seems like our company is growing tiresome for these two,” he says while you turn in his arms. The Appaloosa is standing behind you with the horsey equivalent of rolled eyes and “can we go now?” energy. You ruffle her forelock affectionately as Jack’s arms wind around your waist, chest solid against your back.

“She was my sign,” Jack says quietly as she flicks her tail at a troublesome fly. “Was at an auction, not looking for anything in particular, and I saw her. She was pulling at the reins, giving them a run for their money, and I thought you’d like her.”

Your fingers rest lightly on her muzzle, breath hitching in your chest.

“See, I was debating on whether I was going to go about my plan at all. I got myself established, safe, functioning in this new world. I told myself I was going to find you once I was ready. But then I thought, what if she’s happy? What if she doesn’t want anything more than what we shared that night? I would be ruining your life by trying to find a way back in it.” Your hands fall to clasp around his, a skyline stretching with miles and miles of potential before you. 

“But then I saw her, and…well, I guess I don’t have quite the same belief in a higher power as some. But this was too great a coincidence for me to ignore. If the world was giving me a sign, I had to at least try.” 

She turns one eye to you, amber and gold in the afternoon light. 

“Daybreak,” you say, smiling as she nickers quietly. Jack’s hum urges you to add, “You should call her Daybreak.”

The beginning of a new day, and all its possibilities still laid before you. 

“Daybreak it is,” Jack agrees.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

[maimingaffairs]

can you do something that’s like aftermath of the darkling’s death and how it affects the reader and like what would happen to her?? does not have to be happy thx

it’s not happy (no surprise, surely. i’m sorely against happy needing) but also hehe i love u for this. thank you for feeding my addiction to misery and wallowing.

warnings: mentions of death, thoughts of unaliving yourself IF YOU SQUINT

word count: 888

Right Where You Left Me (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

-

Sometimes, you could still hear him breathe at your side. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest underneath your cheek. You could still smell him. 

The moments between fully waking and fully sleeping were the most blissfully painful for you. Those were the moments where you could fully immerse yourself in the memory of your husband. He was still alive there, in that sliver of time. 

Waking was a cold, lonely endeavor. Waking meant you realized you were not laying upon his chest, you were laying on a cold bed in a cell underneath the palace. Waking meant you smelled nothing but dust and decay. Waking meant you didn’t hear his soft breaths, instead you hear nothing but your own mixed with the ear-splitting silence of your new home. 

Grief didn’t even begin to cover a fraction of what you felt. Sadness wasn’t strong enough to describe your melancholia. The all-consuming, soul-crushing weight of Aleksander Morozova’s loss sat heavy upon your chest and sucked the air right of your lungs. Over, and over again, never ending, never able to be soothed. 

A part of you wished that you could’ve been there in his dying moments, but the other part of you was glad you didn’t have to see life escape his eyes. Instead you’d been tucked away safely at the sanctuary, far away from the violence. You didn’t want that, not initially, at least. But he insisted, the wise bastard insisted that you stay far away from harm’s reach. Oh, and he promised, he swore upon his life that he’d return to you. 

It was the only promise he didn’t keep for you. 

Only a day short of a week had passed since he left. You were left alone at the sanctuary, and he told you it would be better than you getting hurt. On the evening of the sixth day of his absence, heavy footsteps clamored down the hallway. Doors were slammed open and rooms were rummaged through. Though you knew what was coming, you wanted so desperately to believe that all was well. 

When the door to your bedroom flew open, the first face you saw was Alina Starkov’s. Next to her were two soldiers and a boy with blonde hair. Nikolai Lantsov, you guessed. You straightened yourself up in the chair that you were perched in and you set aside the book you weren’t ever really ever reading. 

“Aleksander Morozova is dead.” 

You were sure Alina had said it, but you couldn’t recall as clearly as you would have liked. 

The feeling that shrouded your stomach was comparable to that of being deathly ill and you felt bile rise in the back of your throat. Your breathing had picked up rapidly and the world around you began to distort and twist as if you were peering up from underwater. 

“Then kill me as well.” You remember whispering, your hands curling into your palms, nails digging violently into your soft palms. 

You were not Grisha, there was not a fight that you could put up that wouldn’t be easily ended by Alina alone. 

She did not kill you. Instead you were shackled and brought to Os Alta on a horse accompanied by a stocky soldier who had been a bit too rough. You weren’t sure if you wished to be dead or not, only that you wished to be by Aleksander’s side. Whatever that entailed. 

Once you had arrived at Os Alta, you were told you’d stand trial for treason, for siding with the Darkling. But as the days dragged on in the cells underneath the beautiful palace above you, you began to question whether or not anyone still remembered you were there. 

The silence had begun to drive you mad, and you started hearing your husband call for you. Speak to you. You started to feel him holding you, touching you. They were bittersweet delusions of a mind so shattered by loss. 

All you ever wanted to do was sleep. 

Your sleep was dreamless usually, and it was the only time that you could escape that bottomless pit that resided in your chest, consuming everything that might come close to it. But those brief moments when you lingered in your sleep yet tiptoed towards your awakening were the sweetest and kindest ones. Aleksander was alive in that state of half consciousness and he was always there. Always at your side. Always within reach. And oh, did you reach for him. Every time you thought you’d grasped him for good, you found yourself pushed into consciousness once more, and the sweetness melted into despair once again. 

You loved him. He was your husband, how could you not? You mourned him, you grieved him, you cried his name every single day. You cursed him for breaking his promise to you, you condemned him for leaving you behind to live in a world without him. You’d berate him in your head for letting you become lonely, for allowing himself to falter just enough to let Alina win. 

With toe curling cries and teeth chattering wails, you’d beg the silent void around you each night to let you sleep for good. To let you see him again, really see him again. 

Not just glimpses made of dreams and wishes. 

But you were granted no such relief. 

[bellshazes]

companion to my bdubs best-of, here's a cheat sheet of my personal favorite etho mindcrack episodes. going to organize this by topic, then miscellaneous stuff by season under the cut. because there is so much.

king of the ladder is one of the best, although you might want to watch the sky shrooms prank episodes leading up to it too. best hour you'll ever spend watching people climb a ladder over and over. sick aerial maneuvers.

boat prank with doc - boat boy! boat boys.

team canada - the first big prank on zisteau, and the painting one - payback will be a bitch. also, ???.

obsidian coffin prank - bdubs falsely claims etho pranked him, so etho builds bdubs a numbers puzzle. of death.

onion pranked - team boobee gifts etho one of his favorite foods.

fun house prank and von sway - a new architectural design style is born.

death games - in order to avenge pause, etho hunts his friends for sport but says if they kill each other, they can increase the amount of times etho will kill the other person. sometimes fails, but also this absolutely spectacular kill on nebris using respawn mechanics to surprise is so good. see also hostility rises.

death games 2.0 - now server-wide opt-in event in the following season. bdubs (and guude) try to kill etho. civil war and an arkas kill.

mass pvp - arena fight night, LENS BATTLE. spawn UHCs, arkasdam pvp,

horsegirl activities - the horse drive-thru, beyonc? and taylor swift, a horse timer, doing wheelies,

season 1

nether project - taking one for the team, etho begins his first nether hub construction in classic nether brick and sandstone. later expanded with help from the b-team.

nice prank - please enjoy this kevin mcleod speed cleaning montage. if you can.

bdoubleo - just before the trial, etho and bdubs discuss their upcoming court case while making trees, 3D cubes, and a big hole at spawn. tune in next to the etho vs the b-team trial to find out why he's got chocolate on his knees.

the underside - etho finds out he's got a roommate and continues his quest for an anvil kill.

the pet shop - etho prepares to open his extremely legitimate, fully-licensed, no illegal activity pet shop and feels just so bad for the poor b-team. also, this is the first episode hoppers existed, which has nothing to do with his new quartz generator.

king of the boat - a bunch of people come together to fix bdubs' flammable arena. shenanigans ensue.

seinfeld fans - etho shows beef his new trivia game.

pvp lesson with generikb - etho teaches pvp skills and learns a new word.

season 2

nether hub again - the nether hub falls on etho again but bdubs pitches in this time. ghost zombies, quartz tragedies, etho's little buddy (betrayal)

i feel fine - etho is NOT sick, tells firework stories while helping with doc's perimeter and helps bdubs fishing rod kill a piglin.

canadian killers - etho's escort service, live, from pauseunpause's gaping hole.

this one just for the wither kill at the end.

workers shack - i literally just love this build fr. he steals bdub's color scheme. for more arena work, see capture points, the layout, bed respawn, death counter, arena chit chat,

[thatgordongirl]

Ghosts Season 1 References to the ghosts’ lives

Finally got through the first season on all the references and inferences to the ghosts’ lives, hope everyone likes the results?

Episode 1 - Who Do You Think You Are? 

Fanny is Heather’s Great-Grandmother

Mary could make baskets and died in a witch trial

Kitty ate and dislikes eggs

Julian mentions his by-election victory speech from 1991- very inspiring, very long, and a few smutty jokes. This particular by-election occurred after the death of a conservative member on 20th September 1991 in which a labour member took their place. Whether it is altering that by-election to insert Julian or if it is completely unrelated all together is unknown (Take with a grain of salt, I am an Aussie who doesn’t know the intricacies of British politics) 

Robin lived on the land first, but Fanny owned the house 

Both Alison and Captain love gardens/garden views 

When Thomas was alive, he heard a rumour that a plague girl could be heard singing in the pantry

Julian is wearing two rings: his wedding ring and presumably his Cambridge ring 

Fanny was pushed out of the window by her husband George

George was having an affair with two other men 

Mary could milk a cow

Episode 2 - Gorilla War

I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Major-General was written in 1879, so Captain most likely heard it when he was alive 

Kitty sings The Lark in the Morning, dating back to 1778

Julian is a first from Cambridge

Once, a bear was able to see Robin

Julian references compact discs, but also seems to have some knowledge of technology

Robin references a cousin 

Julian claims to have, as a lead envoy, solved the Arabian crisis in 1991 by starting a war 

The plague ghosts know how to fix the old boiler, they were most likely there when it was fixed previously

Not a living thing, but Pat calls Thomas Tom in this episode and it’s adorable write that down

Julian refers to the Watney MP having sexual relations with horses (That’s right, plural) 

Julian references a liberal in a sailor sauna (And he was not there to learn about boats) 

Thomas most likely read Romeo and Juliet when alive

Episode 3 - Happy Death Day

Pat was killed when teaching his scouts archery, in which Keith accidentally shot him. He died calling out for someone to call his wife and driving the bus into a tree. (Self-explanatory, still horrified me)

Captain references a speech made by Winston Churchill

Robin talks about fighting with rocks and sticks and bears (recurring theme apparently)

Kitty thinks her father is dead, which may imply he didn’t die on the grounds 

Kitty’s sister Eleanor told her that people made babies by pressing their ears together 

Captain references The Blitz, a German bombing campaign that occurred during WW2, and the Luftwaffe, the German airforce 

The east wing’s drainage was put into the house in 1894

Pat’s death day was October 27th 1984

Julian mentions extending the Bramptons in 1986, he ran it through the MP expenses 

Robin has a flea in his ear and worms 

Julian shot fish in a barrel once at a Party Conference in Bournemouth

Pat’s family come every year on his death day to the tree that he crashed into, which came down after the storm of 1987

Pat has a son, Daley, and a wife, Carol

His best friend Morris had his own set of keys to their house

Pat came home one Sunday from camp and found all Morris’ clothes on the floor, he and Carol had an affair

Captain mentions the Western Desert campaign and Bernard Montgomery

Thomas had probably eaten figs and drank wine

Julian has taken part in a ‘Norwegian picnic’ and ‘Himalayan Campsite’ 

Mary says that when you saw a swan in her town it was the devil at play 

Julian is wearing a watch on his left wrist

Daley had (what I think to be) beige pants, he’s an accountant, he’s happy 

Carol is busy with the bowls club, Morris is sweet but very small

Pat’s grandson is named after him, and has Pat’s legs 

Episode 4 - Free Pass

Julian remarks that he was never fond of cornflakes 

Thomas liked eating an egg atop a cutlet, a thin slice of meat from the leg or ribs of mutton, veal, pork or chicken

Button House is from the 15th century, 1469 to be precise 

The facade is mid-16th century 

Captain assumes the actors will be dressed in loincloths, oiled up, and kissing each other. I don’t know if that’s a Tim period thing or if Captain’s just seen freaky stuff 

Henry VIII dined in the banqueting hall, he had swan, hog, dumplings and figs and stank out the privy (I’m dying rn)

Mary is from the Stuart era, Humphrey from Tudor, and Thomas from the Regency

Pat dislikes veggie sausages 

Julian likes to bet on horses 

Julian’s free pass was Samantha Fox

Both Julian and Margot had lists, Margot’s included Wolf, Cobra and John Fashanu from the 1992 show Gladiators 

Thomas’ rivalry with Lord Byron is mentioned 

Pat references video cassettes 

Thomas believes that Lord Byron stole one of his verses 

Robin asks why Toby is doing a rain dance 

Julian remarks that the free pass wasn’t a joke in his marriage 

Episode 5 - Moonah Ston

Fanny falls from the east wing window, and is notably dressed in grey

She’s Edwardian. This era is placed between 1901-1910, but some say it ended with the beginning of WWI in 1914. As Fanny mentioned having a ticket for the titanic, this would place her between 1910-1914

Julian met Barclay at a party fundraiser at Button House

Julian heard a funny story on a golf course involving Bruce Forsyth-Johnson, a British entertainer

Pat loves dogs so much he’s willing to get sick, bless him

Julian references The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde

Fanny possibly ate turtle soup, oyster rissoles and pheasant 

Captain is unsurprisingly able to shoot a gun

“Gleaming bundook op from the civvy” and “boshing jerry” is Captain just saying that the civilian is good at shooting and he’ll be out fighting Germans in no time 

Mary knows how to properly prepare a pheasant

Robin had his own site on the grounds that Stonehenge apparently copied, and he remembers the ritual reading 

Fanny is disgruntled by the cutlery and says they should be on the outside, which was how she was taught 

Fanny also seems to have knowledge on Barclay’s family 

Kitty says she’s wearing what she died in, pretty self-explanatory there

Thomas is well aware of techniques for public speaking such as dramatic pauses, but clearly wasn’t good at using them

Thomas references Saint Cuthbert

Pat references Betemax 

Julian is aware of Barclay’s poker ability and his bank account in Fiji 

Robin’s connection with the moon is rooted in it being the only thing that’s been around as long as he has 

Captain mentions light pollution, which only began getting addressed in the 1950s, though he could’ve learnt about it earlier or later

Episode 6 - Getting Out 

Robin liked eating cooked meat

Julian likes fondue 

The house was worth a thousand pounds in Fanny’s era 

Julian has committed fraud to get money 

The plague ghosts have had falling outs before, but they’ve never lasted longer than 20-25 years

Pat describes having music on the go, unaware that it already exists 

Fanny hid an Arabic jewel in a box under a floorboard, it was given to her husband by Queen Empress Alexandra. He pawned it. 

Captain has ear hair 

Captain’s limbs creak, it is a joke of course, but canonical so my hands are tied

Kitty likes to talk about balls and eligible men

Robin has seen many people come and go from the house

The plague ghost skeletal remains are under the house 

Captain was aware of the bodies in the basement