#i doubt they will be successful in fa

[crystalbeetle888]

Second Chances Pt.2

Dog-hybrid 141 x Autistic-coded reader

Your world is turned upside down, when a stalker forces you to adopt a support-hybrid, leading you to meeting his friends and possibly biting off more than you can chew.

Word Count- 2600

Warnings- minor stalker/stalking, threats of violence, course language, descriptions of managed anxiety and depression, consumption of alcohol,

Master List

The next few weeks feel like a blur. You and John find your rhythm in the mundane things. He wakes up before you, making a pot of tea to share when you get up. You cook the both of you a well balanced breakfast, before doing the daily chores. Feeding your rabbit Pluto, doing a load of laundry, washing the morning dishes. You then take a short walk with him to your city center, dropping him off at the gym while you sit at a cafe across the road. You usually use this time to read, work on illustration commissions, or work on writing your books.

You sip on your iced-chocolate as you type away at your newest novel, a forbidden romance between a man cursed to be a werewolf and a woman disgusted with the world. You had your noise reducing earplugs in, so you didn't notice when an unwelcomed figure approached you from behind.

The tap on your shoulder frightens you, causing you to yelp and take out you ear plugs before turning around. There stands Derek, a guy you had only been on two dates with before he insisted on you 'spending the night' with him. As fucking if. Two measly pub meals, where you could barely even hear him over all the noise, and he thinks that's grounds for sex. What a fucking joke.

"Hay, I've been thinking about you lately. What a coincidence meeting you here," he smiles down at you. You try to stifle a grimace with little success, "Yeah.. I highly doubt that" you say bluntly before turning back to your laptop. He chuckles at you "You know, that dry humor of yours is gonna hurt someone's feelings one day".

You roll your eyes "Oh no" you say flatly. Derek chuckle again, before moving around you, sitting down across from you at your table. You look at him with annoyance, eyes wide and face twisted, like you just smelt something awful and slightly concerning.

"I don't remember inviting you to sit", "I just wanted to talk about how we left things..", "I don't want to talk to you. I'm no longer interested in you at all" you insist.

He nods his head slowly, pursing his lips in thought.

"I'm going to put my earplugs in now. I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to contact me anymore".

After he had tried to persuade you into spending the night with him, you turned your phone off and went device-free for a few days, just to clear your head. It disturbed you at how easily this man thought luring you to his house would be. And how casually he had lied about his true intentions with you. All that bullshit about 'building real connections', and being 'avidly against hookup culture'. He didn't give a shit about hookup culture, he liked hookup culture, he just wanted to trick you into participating. Which is super fucking wrong!

And once you turned your phone back on, you were bombarded with a bunch of freaky ass texts. 'Please I didn't mean it, I'm just having a rough time', 'You led me on, the least you could do is pay me back', 'Sorry about that last one I was drunk'.

What a fucking loser.

In the end you just decided to just block him with no explanation. But now he’s here, bothering you again.

You go to reach for your earplugs case, but he grasps your hand to stop you, “Just hear me out” he insists. Your body tenses at the unwanted contact, like you just touched something mushy in the bottom of the sink. “Let go of my fucking hand!” You raise your voice at him, not aware of the onlookers around you. His grip tightens, coiling like a snake, “You need to calm down, this isn’t a big deal..” “Let go!” You stand abruptly. Your chest heaves with adrenaline, your heart pounding in your ears as you give him an fiery stare.

Derek’s face goes pale as he stares back at you, or really, as he stares over your shoulder. “Everything alright?” John steps up beside you. Unsurprisingly, Derek let’s go of your hand at the sight of your hulking hybrid friend. Fucking coward.

“Everything’s cool man, no need to go all beast mode on me” Derek laughs nervously, throwing his hands up in defeat.

John doesn’t laugh, or really move at all, asides from hovering his hand over the small of your back. His pointed ears twitch as his sharp blue eyes remain focused on the man across from him.

Derek looks at you one last time before slowly backing away.

You let out a shuddered breath, you didn’t know you were holding in, “Thank you” you whisper. John’s hand gently ghosts your back “You alright?”, you nod in response “Yeah just a bit shaken up”.

“Let’s get you home then” he suggests quietly.

John hovers next to you as you pack away your belongings. Taking your bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he offers you his arm. Hesitantly, you place your hand on his thick forearm before beginning the walk back home.

From this position, you are made keenly aware of his altered physique. His form seemed larger, stretching his shirt tightly across his chest and bulging biceps. He also somehow seemed taller? You weren't sure, everything about him just seemed to be enhanced now, his features seemed sharper. John turns to look at you, snapping you out of your stare “Everything alright?" he asks.

You turn your head forwards, face flushing with embarrassment "Mhmm" you hum. Your heart beats uncomfortably fast and your stomach tingles with nerves. You weren't familiar with this bodily sensation. It felt somewhere between being happy and being anxious. You didn't like it. It was new, and new things frustrates you.

Finally arriving home, you let yourself in before making a B-line to your room. Stripping from your clothes, you quickly hop into the boiling hot shower, washing away any remaining feelings or smells of Derek. Despite that he only touched your hand, the fact that you didn't explicitly invite him to, makes you feel icky. Like, a full body disgusted, bugs crawling on the skin, slimy feeling, kind of icky.

The hot pelting water soothes your tense muscles, finally allowing you to relax.

Once you’ve been sufficiently decompressed, you toddle out of the bathroom, putting on some fresh trackie pants and an oversized shirt, before making your way back downstairs to continue with the rest of your day. “Are you alright?” John stands from the couch when you enter the room. “Yeah I just needed to clean myself, he had sticky hands” your body physically shivers at the thought of Derek’s touch.

“Anyways, I was thinking maybe I should try to get in touch with your pack members, organise a meet up or something” you swiftly change the subject, trying to put him out of your mind “So you can socialise and all” you say nonchalantly as you prepare lunch.

John stares for an uncomfortably long moment before nodding “I think that’s a great idea. I know who you can email to make that happen”

And after much back and forth emailing between you and Kate Laswell, she finally just offers to give you Simon’s number. Probably sick of being the middle man.

-Hi, this is (Y/N), I’m Johns guardian. Just wanted to reach out and see if we could organise a catchup sometime. Let me know when suits you. Hope this message finds you well.

-This is Simon. We’re free Saturday. Does the Duke Hotel at 1800 work?

-Yes! That works for us. Can’t wait to meet you guys, we’ll see you there!❤️

You weren’t sure if it was appropriate to send the heart, but all well, you’re sure he gets the point.

Your body is practically buzzing when Saturday finally rolls around, with excitement or anxiety, you weren’t sure. You pick out some casual and comfortable jeans, an oversized shirt that you tied at the front, your special ‘going out’ boots, and a large plaid shirt to throw over the top. Before making your way downstairs where John was waiting.

“Ready to go?” He asks, dressed nicely in some casual jeans, a fresh tee, and a dark grey coat. “Well don’t you look handsome, aye? I’m ready to go when you are” you say casually to him as you grab your purse off the hook. “Come on” you march out the and into the cool night, heading towards your car. Having failed to make the appropriate level of eye contact for the conversation, you completely missed John’s flushed expression. He wasn’t expecting you to compliment him so boldly and suddenly.

His tail stands stiffly in attention, his ears and eyes honed in to your movements as you walk past him to your car. Your earthy smelling body oil wafting through the air as you do. He watches you, like a predator stalking its prey. “Hello? Are you coming?” You call out to him.

Shaking his body he lets the feeling dissipate. ‘Not the right time’ he thinks to himself. Given your current situation and obvious sensitivities, John thought it’d be best to let any possible feelings have time to grow first. He wasn’t blind though, he could see you were an attractive person, and just knew the boys would make a move on you tonight. The thought irritated him.

The drive to the hotel was short, parking just up the road the two of you hop out before making your way up the street.

John stopping you just outside the door “Before we go in, I just wanted to say thank you, for putting in the effort” he gazes down at you, hand pressed gently to your upper arm. As not to scare you off.

Your heart swells “Oh that’s alright. You need to socialise too ya know?” you laugh, slightly flustered and not entirely sure what to say. John smiles down at you before opening his arms slightly “Can I..” he trails off hesitantly. You nod your head enthusiastically before pulling him into a hug. His thick arms enveloped you tightly, pulling a squeak out of you as he gives you a squeeze. The pressure, along with his naturally high body temperature is comforting. Pair that with his general earthy-musky smell and you’re in sensory heaven.

Pulling away, you are left feeling more grounded than before. “Let’s not keep them waiting them, aye love” placing his hand on the small of your back, he leads you inside to a table where three dog-hybrids sit.

A Doberman-hybrid, with blond hair and brown eyes, wearing a dark hoodie and medical mask.

A German shepherd-hybrid, with dark curly hair, deep brown eyes and a trimmed moustache.

And a Cane Corso-hybrid with a brown mowhawk, and fresh cut facial hair.

“Evening lads” John pulls out your chair, before sitting down beside you. “It’s good to see you cap” the German shepherd-hybrid pats him on the shoulder. “I knew they couldn’t break you” the Cane Corso-hybrid smiles wildly at him, his thick Scottish accent echoes in your mind. The Doberman-hybrid doesn’t say anything, but raises his beer to his friend.

“So.. this is the lass taking care of you” the Corso looks at you eagerly. “Easy there Soap” John warns him.

“This is (Y/N), she’s my guardian now”, you smile at them shyly, suddenly forgetting your nerves “Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys”.

The three men size you up, the Scott sniffing the air intently. “This is Kyle or Gaz, Simon also known as Ghost, and..” “And I’m Johnny, or Soap if you’d prefer” he winks at you, offering his hand. Kyle scoffs at him “Control yourself mate”.

You laugh nervously, shaking his much larger and rougher hand “You guys have such interesting nicknames”

Johnny chuckles “Aye, you wanna know how I got mine”. Kyle groans. “She doesn’t give a shit mate” Simon grumbles, shaking his head, “It’s cause I can clean up the enemy” he boasts, flexing his pecs at the table. Mostly at you though. You and John laugh at their drunken antics.

The atmosphere was light tonight, with good drinks and easy conversation, you get along with John’s pack easily. However all those drinks have to catch up with your bladder at some point. “Excuse me for a moment” you whisper to John, who nods in acknowledgment. Getting up, you make a B-line for the bathroom.

John turns to his pack once you’re out of hearing range, “I need you lads to do me a favour” he says, his voice suddenly becoming serious. The three hybrids shift at their friend’s sudden change in attitude. “Whatever you need cap, we’ve got you” Johnny responds.

“I need you to deal with someone who’s bothering her. He’s becoming a problem” John explains. “Human?” Simon asks, John nodding in response. “Sounds easy enough then” Simon chuckles.

“She can’t ever know though, got it?” John stares at each of them with a hard glare. They all nod in agreement.

“So.. have you two mated yet?” Johnny grins cheekily at his pack mate. “Piss off” John barks, causing the table to erupt with laughter. “I fuckin bet that you two won’t last more than two weeks without doin it” Johnny teases.

“Leave him alone Johnny, you’re fuckin drunk” Kyle points at him from across the table.

“You’re wrong..” Simon says, capturing their attention, “They won’t last more than one week”.

The men laugh loudly as you approach the table, letting out a long yawn as you sit back in your seat, the day finally catching up to you. "Seems like it's time for us to go lads" John says, rising from his chair he lends you a hand to stand. "Oh I'm fine if you want to stay out longer" you respond. "Nah It's getting late, we should head in too lass" Johnny insists. Shrugging, you take Johns' hand and stand up.

The groups shares some quick goodbyes before parting ways. The journey back home was a blur, stumbling through the door you kick off your boots before trudging tiredly upstairs. John following close behind. Entering your room, you quickly change into your nighties, ready to jump straight into bed.

However, a knock at your bedroom door interrupts you. Opening it up, John stands there awkwardly “I just wanted to say that I’m grateful for tonight love. Thank you”.

You pout at him, feeling tired, drunk, and sentimental. “Oh John, it’s alright” you mumble, as you cuddle up to him for another hug. Hugging status unlocked. His strong arms embrace you again, rubbing comforting circles on your back. The sensation causing your eyes to droop and body to relax into him “You’re not falling asleep are you?” His hot whisky breath fans across your face.

You grunt in response, causing him to chuckle.

He leads you back to your bed, opening up the covers for you to crawl under. You, letting out little giggles, as he tucks you in and kisses your forehead. “Good night love” he whispers to you, before sneaking out of the room.

John wanders off to his own room, settling in his bed for the night. His thoughts drift back to his friends and what they said earlier. They were wrong. John intended on waiting for you. He was a patient man, and knows that the best things in life take time to grow. And he was more than willing to wait for someone as good as you.

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 1 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which you have a fat crush on your brother’s best friend, without getting much success. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is my first work here but anyways i hope you guys like it ! maybe I'll do a part 2...

You watch proudly in his shirt as you clap in the game's first minutes, chanting while taking pictures of him.

The first half was pretty equal, with some shots from both teams but neither could score. You could see that Mason was getting nervous. He stopped his movements abruptly when the referee called for a corner and looked at the crowd, his eyes sparkling with tenseness.

He gazed down at where his family (and therefore also yours) was and licked his lips. You couldn't help but wonder what would your brother think of your little —huge— crush on his childhood best friend.

In the 34th minute, he passed the defenders and tried to score with a pass from Ben Chilwell, making the goalkeeper lose his balance and thus scoring.

You celebrated the goal screaming it to your brother's face and he couldn’t help but smile at you, happy that you were having a good time. Your cheeks were red after Mason approached the stands and celebrated the goal, dedicating a kiss to where you were.

And that was the effect that Mason Mount had on people, especially you.

Mason was your brother's best friend, you had known him for years. It was a stupid crush that all your friends grew out of but not you. You had to keep drooling every time he was near you, that being almost every day because your brother had him over to dinner nearly every night.

You remember the day the Mount family moved next to your house, a loud and proud British family— Debbie and Tony, Stacey, Lewis and Mason. The day after they had moved in, Debbie and Tony turned up outside your door, asking if your older brother was interested in playing football with Mason.

It didn’t take long for your brother to become close to Mason, both at the cusp of boyhood. Their friendship only bloomed from there.

After spending almost every weekend watching your brother and Mason training, to spending most afternoons around the Mount house playing, you felt like family.

You always found yourself drawn to the boy next door although he was away a lot of the time, playing different matches and training. Mason’s natural affinity and talent for the game, ensured the quality of his skills.

He was slightly older so no doubt he found you childish and would always moan when his parents made him spend time with you.

—Mom, not again! I don't want to play with her, she's boring! —Mason exclaimed with an expression of obvious annoyance on his face.

Mason's mother was the first to figure out your crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the Mounts at a family dinner when you were around thirteen.

Both families were playing football, as usual, while the adults were preparing supper. When you had the ball you felt your body lean way too far back and Mason tried to act on impulse, stretching his body to catch you in time.

—Hold on to me! —Mason exclaimed, extending his arms towards you. However, the weight of the fall was too much, and in an instant, they were both on the grass, in some sort of mess.

—Mase, God, I'm so sorry! I dragged you with me! —you apologized, feeling the blood rise to your cheeks, turning them crimson red.

He brushed the grass off his jacket with an angry expression. —Well done. First minutes into the game and you're already annoying.

—Thanks for trying! —you laughed, shyly. When there was a long silence, you realized that Mason was not joking and was serious. —Sorry, I…

Debbie looked from afar at the little girl carefully while she kept her eyes glued to her son's. She watched her cute little cheeks tinted red as Mason scoffed and begged you to stay away from him.

Debbie would soon get used to it as she watched you fall in love with her son over the next few years.

Until your first boyfriend. An age difference of three years was not a big deal since it was a common factor among your friend's partners. You had recently turned sixteen years old and you thought that you had met the boy who could take you out of the charm that had her wrapped around Mase.

Lyon was older, he was eighteen years old, like Mason. You had met him at school on a spring afternoon. You walked through the school hallways, books clutched to your chest. A gust of wind caused some of the books to fly out of your hands, scattering them across the hallway floor.

Lyon was passing by and noticed the scene. He approached you with a smile and that is how the story started.

Your brother didn't approve of your new boyfriend. He knew that her sister just wanted to show his best friend that the age difference wasn't that important.

Being with Lyon was great at first. You knew that he was not the love of your life, but for the moment he seemed to play the role quite well, so that was fine with you. It was a Friday night and you and your brother were at a party at the house of one of your brother's friends.

You were downstairs in the kitchen while your friends watched you drink alcohol like there was no tomorrow. They realized something was bothering you, but decided not to mention it.

—Where is the lover boy anyway? —Spoke one of your friends.

Your lack of response was when they realized that Lyon was the reason for the sadness that was painted on their best friend's face. He abandoned you, once again. This seems routine, they thought.

You slammed your empty red glass against the kitchen counter, wiping the drip from your chin as you decided that was enough.

—I'll go look for him.

From the corner of the room, your brother wished you good luck and with courage, you stumbled through the party. The house was huge. Enormous windows covered the entire house. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights going down to the beach.

And there he sat, on the stairs leading to the illuminated outdoor pool, Lyon. A thin blonde girl was sitting on his lap, probably older than you. She took the cigarette from Lyon's lips and placed it on top of her painted red lips.

Tears welled in your eyes as you returned to the house with your heels in hand. With all the bad luck in the world, as you returned, you heard in the background:

—Baby, relax. —You ignored your boyfriend's call as you made your way through the crowd to return to the kitchen, hoping that your brother was still there.

You made it to the kitchen before your boyfriend grabbed you by the back of your arm and pushed you against the kitchen island.

—Come on, I didn't even do anything—

—She was on your lap.

—It's not that serious, okay?—

—It's a big problem! I'm humiliated! —You shouted back, creating a scene you desperately wanted to avoid. Lyon's grip tightened around your arm as he tried to wriggle out of your grasp.

—Let go of me, you're hurting me. —That only made his grip tighten around your arms.

—Let her go, mate. —Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt Lyon back away.

—Oh yeah?… and what are you going to do about it, Mount? —That's when the punches were thrown and Lyon was left hunched over holding his split lip. Your now ex-boyfriend was grabbed by someone else before he could lunge at who you assumed was your brother, but when you turned your head you saw Mason shaking your hand out of pain.

His knuckles were red and his eyes were darker than what you were used to.

—Let's go to the car. —Said Mason, you nodding your head. —Get in the car. —He said. His tone was strong, not what she was used to.

Still, the ride to your house was silent, you sitting in the front with Mase, while your brother passed out in the back seat. Faint English music played on the radio as Mason's eyes were firmly fixed on the road.

Mason finally spoke. —You really don't know how to choose them, don’t you? — You could only sob again, unable to answer him mainly because he was right and you were ashamed. When the car stopped, he unbuckled his seat belt and murmured that he would walk you to your door.

Mase rocked on his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight the tear-stained cheeks of his best friend's sister. He thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half hour, your hair hadn't been brushed, and you were digging through your purse like crazy.

Although he would never admit it.

—I got them! —You laughed, waving your keys in the air before bumping your nose with the keychain. You paused as you pushed the key into the door, turning to look Mason in the eye for the first time since the party.

—Thank you. —Mason didn't want to hear it. You were just her best friend’s sister.

—It's no big deal. —

—No… really thank you, Mason. —you smiled and Mason listened too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Mason and not Mase.

After a moment, you dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head resting on his chest as he quickly moved his hand and rubbed your back.

—Just... make sure the next one isn't a complete idiot, yeah? —he whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.

That sentence broke your poor little heart.

[creepswrites]

TIRED OF RUNNING (CH 2) | Sinclairs x Reader

THIS IS THE COOLEST OMG thank you so much for 1000 followers!!! :D i know this may be silly but this is a big thing for me and i'm super happy about this!! to celebrate, i finally finished ch 2!! i hope you guys enjoy and that it was worth the wait!

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: Before Bo could answer, they were interrupted by a soft groan of pain as your ex lifted his head to try and take in his surroundings. Lester wondered what it looked like to him - the walls covered in wax, the unbearable heat, the churning of the big machine that'd soon encase him in his own wax prison. He hoped the man was terrified. He deserved to be, after all he put you and the boys through.

WARNING: graphic violence, child abuse, suicide

PREV || NEXT

Vincent slammed the door of the car as he stormed up to the front of the house, ignoring Bo's weak protests as he followed hot on his twin's heels. "Vince, it ain't my fault Mama's sick! What, you want her to jus' waste away and die?!"

The other man spun hard on his heel, managing to glare daggers even behind the wax mask. His hands moved harshly as he signed and ignored the way Bo sighed with annoyance. "You KNOW how important college is to me! Or, more accurately, was. Mama wanted me to be successful, I shouldn't have let you pull me back to this hellhole."

Bo scoffed. "I didn't want ya back either, believe me. But I'm the only one providin' for this fuckin' family and her medical bills're pilin' up, Vince! The money Pa gave ya for school could be used to help her! Y'know, the only woman who ever gave a damn about you-!"

He was cut off harshly as Vincent's fist smashed into his jaw with a hard cracking sound. He grunted as he took a knee to the stomach and collapsed to the pavement. Vincent climbed atop him and wailed on his face in anger, trying to ignore the tears that stung his eyes as he unleashed years and years of pent up anger onto his twin. Besides, even if Mama was cognisant enough to ask him about the bloody nose or black eye, she'd never believe it was Vincent who put them there. Her sweet angel Vinny hitting Bo? Surely not. 

Bo had always been the "evil" twin, after all.

By the time his anger ran dry, so had the blood caking Bo's face and Vincent's knuckles. They both panted heavily as Vincent stood on shaking legs, offering a hand to the other to pull him up. Angry or not, they were still brothers. And unlike Bo, he had some amount of compassion for others. Even if he'd just broken their nose.

He got a glare in response but Bo took the hand anyway. "You were always a fuckin' bitch," he grumbled as they both made their way back into the house. "You hit fuckin' hard too, the hell'd you learn to fight like that?"

Vincent made his way to the kitchen to wash off the blood. He pointedly kept his eyes off his twin as he scrubbed his hands, wincing slightly when they began to bleed again with newfound vigor. He searched the drawers for gauze and began to wrap his knuckles, fresh red staining the white wraps quickly. "I learnt from you." He signed once his hands were bandaged.

Bo just glared at him, pulling up a chair to sit in the center of the kitchen. "Gonna be hard to explain to Mama what happened, y'know."

Vincent let out a snort of laughter before setting up shop to bandage his brother's face. "She doesn't even talk anymore," he signed aggressively. "Doubt she'll waste her dying breath to ask who broke your face. Maybe she'll think you're handsome this way." He dropped his hands to grab peroxide and wet a cotton ball with it.

"Guess you'd be an expert in broken faces, huh?" Bo hissed out as Vincent dabbled at his face.

He just clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to smash all of Bo's teeth in as he cleaned up the cuts and blood from the other's face. They were silent after that, the only sounds in the kitchen coming from the leaky faucet and Bo's pained sounds. He didn't feel bad for breaking his face and relished in the fact cleaning him up hurt just as bad if not more.

They'd just finished bandaging his face when they heard their mother start screaming upstairs. Morphine must've run out, Vincent sighed internally. The twins locked in a heated staring match, a silent argument about who was going upstairs. With an exasperated sigh, Vincent finally relented and stomped upstairs to give Bo time to lick his wounds.

Pushing open the door to their mother's room was just as horrible as he remembered. Trudy Sinclair had once been a phenomenal artist, a great creator, and an average mother. Now here she was, reduced to a husk of a person hooked up to tubes and wires that kept her from immediately keeling over. The room smelt like a hospital all compressed down into one, tiny, suffocating room. Vincent was momentarily glad the mask hid his face so he could screw his face up in disgust without his mother seeing. She could only watch with wide eyes as her son's bloody bandaged hands changed her bags to get a fresh dose of morphine coursing through her veins as soon as possible.

He wondered if she'd ask him to put her out of her misery if she could still speak. Damn their father for dying before he could fix her vocal cords. Though maybe it's better she can't speak, he thought as he noticed how her eyes fixed on his hands. Who knows what she'd say if she could.

A large part of him didn't really care.

…

"Vince?" Bo's voice snapped Vincent from his stupor and he glanced over his shoulder, knives in hand. He gave a curt nod and Bo just sighed. The three met back up in the kitchen after arming themselves, listening to your ex wail on the door and heard his friends trying to sneak around to the back of the house. "Alright, I'll take the front, Vinny'll sneak 'round the side through the House of Wax. Lester, you got the back. We kill each and every one'a those fuckin' bastards but leave him alive. I got somethin' special in mind."

Lester cheered in excitement, checking the shotgun was loaded before tilting his hat. "See ya when the smoke clears."

"Don't have too much fun," Vincent signed with one hand as he retreated down into the basement to kill the lights. The dark would give Lester good cover and let Bo get the chance to surprise the ones at the door. He slid the knives into their holsters at his sides and fiddled with the breakers, shutting down everything in the town.

Time to go hunting. He hurried down the tunnel towards the House of Wax.

...

Their mothers funeral had been beautiful. Her open casket funeral had the whole town of Ambrose visiting, lamenting the loss of their talented artist. Vincent spent the day squeezing Lester's hand while he cried, fresh out of high school and still their baby brother. Bo greeted people and was a sociable host. Vincent had only been back in town for two months before their mother passed and a part of him was relieved to be here for Lester. Neither he or Bo were bad brothers to Lester but he knew Bo wouldn't be there for their little brother's emotional needs. Losing both their father and now mother over the span of three years hit them all pretty hard.

Bo played the role of the sociable host, greeting people and accepting sympathetic words with a hollow, tired smile. He'd occasionally shoot glances at his brothers who stood off to the side against the wall and silently admired Vincent's ability to pretend to grieve. He knew Lester's sorrows were real but he and Vince had long since made peace with their mother's death long before she even died.

He also knew Vincent still resented him for dragging him home.

When the guests began to clear out, the twins took a moment to stand over their mother's casket. Bo still looked nice in his fitted suit. So did Vincent, although he'd discarded the jacket ages ago. For a while, neither of them said anything. They didn't have to. Call it twin intuition or whatever, they were able to have a silent conversation in a language only they knew. Quietly, Vincent slouched over to bump their shoulders together in a gentle display of affection before quickly righting himself, like he was worried they'd get in trouble if they were caught getting along.

"Yknow, Mama said she wanted to make a whole damn museum outta this town," Bo broke the silence with a wistful sigh. "Said Ambrose was becomin' a dead town and she wanted to make a Town 'a Wax. Then she got sick, because of course she did."

"Your point?" Vincent signed.

Bo turned to look at him properly. "Let's give her what she wanted, yeah? Least we can do for her. She taught you all her tricks 'n you'll be able to do art again." He grinned at Vincent like he'd come up with something great. "Think about it, Vinny. The Town of Wax, just like Mama wanted! We could finally make her proud."

Vincent shook his head quickly, fidgeting nervously with the ends of his hair. It was beginning to grow out more. He liked it long, despite their Pa insisting he keep it short. "She never taught me how to make full statues like she could. I'd need a base of some sort to make people. Otherwise it'll just be too much wasted wax, since they'd have to be filled figures. I just can't do hollow structures." His hands moved slowly so Bo could keep up. While, yes, their mother did hope for Vincent to take over for her one day, their lessons had been cut short when she got sick. Besides, Vincent had always preferred painting over sculpting.

But Bo had a point. Fulfilling her wishes would be nice.

"Shit, yeah," Bo said as he crossed his arms in thought. And then an idea came to him. Dark, twisted, and certainly coming from years of resentment towards the woman who lay dead before them. "You jus' need somethin' human-like, yeah?"

Vincent nodded once.

"I bet we got ourselves a perfectly good base sittin' right here."

Lester slipped out the back, shushing Jonesy to be quiet. Her growls were loud in the dark, silent space as he listened to the sounds of footsteps. He prided himself on being a damn good hunter so he guessed, based on the amount of steps, there were about four people sneaking around either side in hopes of scaling the fence. Excellent.

The fences were old wood that were certainly in need of replacement at this point. The only reason Jonesy didn't get out every day was because she simply wasn't aware of their weakness. Lester was momentarily grateful for the bushes that surrounded the fences because it let him know that the two on the left were hopping over.

He stood up from behind the wrought iron backyard table and fired.

... 

The day their dad disappeared had been a lot of frantic energy and screaming. Lester had only been sixteen at the time and Bo and Vince had just turned twenty-one. Mama's condition was getting worse and worse every day, her pain so terrible she couldn't even move from bed anymore. Her vocal cords had been shredded from her screaming and their Pa kept dodging the boy's attempts to get him to fix it. Some doctor he was. 

But Lester didn't mind it so much anymore. Going upstairs to visit Mama in bed had just become part of the routine now. Bo had gotten a job at the autoshop while Vincent was off in college. It was summer break so he'd come back home to help with household stuff that their father insisted was a woman's job. He never bothered to help. All he did was drink and disappear into his office to do nothing.

He wasn't stupid. Vincent and Bo weren't exactly quiet when they argued with their father about medical bills when they thought Lester couldn't hear them. He'd gotten a part time job cleaning roadkill to help pitch in but he knew it wasn't enough.

Their dad was already missing when they'd all woken up. They got the whole town to search the nearby forests, Bo took his truck around the back roads, and Lester searched with Vincent on foot. About an hour in, Bo showed back up at the house, ordering his brothers to get in the car. They'd just pulled out of the driveway when Vincent began questioning him with a flurry of hand movements. "Where is he? What did you find?"

"Vince, I can't look at you and drive."

"He asked where is he an' what ya found." Lester chimed in from the backseat, leaning forward to hover anxiously over the center console. He wanted a better view than the backseat windows.

Bo didn't answer and Lester felt his stomach sink.

Only a few miles from Ambrose, Lester spotted their fathers truck parked in a ditch and let out a quiet gasp. "Is that-?"

"Stay in the car, Les." Bo grunted as he and Vince got out of the truck.

"Fuck that!" He shot back, clambering out before Bo could lock the doors. "He's my dad too!"

Bo shared a look with Vincent and gave a resigned sigh. "Fine, whatever, keep up," he motioned for his brothers to follow. He led the way into the treeline, not even wincing when the stray twigs and branches sliced at his arms and legs..

After what felt like an eternity, they finally broke into the large, open field just past all the brush, Lester nearly took off running. Luckily, Vincent sensed that and grabbed him around the middle before he could get far.

Their father stood in the center of the field, one of his ornate pistols clenched tight in his fist and his head tilted up to stare at the sky. No one had thought to check the little glass case back home.

Everything happened in a rapid blur of chaos and terror from that point. Lester remembered Bo and their Pa getting into yet another screaming match while Vincent did his best to keep Lester from getting near the two. He'd clutched him to his chest and kept his back to Bo and their Pa, forcing Lester's face into the front of his sweater with a stern hold. He remembered protesting, wanting to go see their Pa and ask if he was okay. Vincent shook his head and held his head tighter.

Vincent's voice cracked and wheezed from disuse. "Don't look." He choked out with a cough.

The words sent a chill up Lester's spine and he clutched onto his older brother with as he tried to argue.

A deafening gunshot rang out in the open field and Lester shrieked in horror, fighting harder against Vincent's hold to try and see what happened. The heavy thud of a body ripped a sob from him and his brother's gentle shushing was doing nothing to soothe him. His ears were ringing and Bo was screaming but he didn't sound like he was hurt.

When he finally tore away from Vincent, his heart dropped to his stomach.

Their father lay in the grass, the green stained with bright red blood and brain matter. Bo was running a hand through his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and blood splattering his face. How close had he been? Lester ran to him, narrowly dodging Vincent's attempts to hold him back.

Bo caught him this time, dragging him off and screaming at Lester to get back. 

…

The intruder's screaming was quickly silenced as Jonesy began to tear at their necks. Lester whistled her to step back, not wanting to ruin Vincent's models too much. The other man always got so pissy whenever he had to play makeshift doctor to get them to a presentable state. A shot through the head was usually easy for him but all their running and screaming had him distracted. He cocked the gun with a heavy clunk and aimed at the other two on the right who were trying to run.

The gun fired again.

…

Lester stood in front of his father's grave clutching the antler of a deer. Blinking back tears, he let out a shaky breath. "Hey Pa," his voice a wet whisper when he finally managed to choke out words. "I, uh, talked with Bo 'n Vinny today. They, um, told me 'bout what life was like growin' up with you. How you used to stap Bo to a chair to get him to eat." He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeves. "I used to look up to ya, y'know? Vincent always had Mama an' I know ya didn't like Bo much, so I," he swallowed back a whimper, "I tried to be your lil' guy, but…"

Tears began to fall as a sob wracked his body. "Damnit, why'd ya have to do Bo like that?! Thought he got the scars from fightin', not from you hurtin' him! Ain't no wonder he hated ya so much…"

Lester threw the antler at the gravestone, glaring through his tears as it cracked into pieces and fell to the dirt below. The sight only made Lester angrier, wishing he could've thrown something at his father before he became rot beneath wet soil. Maybe that would've taught him regret. Maybe. He didn't want to place bets on a losing horse.

"He wanted to save ya, y'know? Even in the end, he was beggin' ya not to do it." He grimaced at the memory, like the mere idea of saving their father now disgusted him. "Been a year now and I still… I still wish you loved us enough to stay. But we weren't good enough for ya, huh? Ain't never been, yeah?"

He fell to his knees in front of the grave, grabbing a piece of the antler and scratching at the stone, relishing in the way some pieces of the letters chipped off. Served him right. He didn't deserve to be remembered.

Pa said nothing in response and paid Lester no mind. Just like always.

…

Catching and killing the others had been painfully easy. In a matter of minutes, the three brothers had the bodies piled like wood in the basement, bullet holes in their heads steadily bleeding out. Whatever, Bo brushed it off, Vince'll clean it up later if it bothers him so much.

But one man stood apart from the rest. Very alive and tied to the chair with only a minor bump to the head. Just like he'd wanted.

"We got a lotta new faces for the museum," Lester called to Bo with a wide grin on his face. "'m still a damn good shot too."

"What will we do with him?" Vincent signed, ignoring Lester and gesturing to your ex.

Bo gave his brothers a dark smile. "Well, obviously, we can't keep 'im alive. But killin' 'im quickly is too kind."

Lester leant against the nearby work table like a child listening to something fascinating, his face resting on his hands that were propped up on his elbows. "Whaddya thinki' then?"

Before Bo could answer, they were interrupted by a soft groan of pain as your ex lifted his head to try and take in his surroundings. Lester wondered what it looked like to him - the walls covered in wax, the unbearable heat, the churning of the big machine that'd soon encase him in his own wax prison. He hoped the man was terrified. He deserved to be, after all he put you and the boys through.

"Where am I?" Your ex slurred out, trying to lift his head.

"Yer own personal hell." Bo said with an unkind smile. "Punishment for yer sins, I'd reckon."

"W-wha?" He mumbled, trying to think. The head injury was clearly making it difficult though.

Vincent grabbed his hair to tilt his head up for a better look. "Don't remember?" Bo spoke up again. "Pretty thing with two lil' tykes? Ain't ringin' a bell?"

His eyes widened and he swallowed. "You know 'em?" He stammered, glancing around the room. "They put you up to this? Listen, you don't know the whole story, they-"

"They're upstairs sleepin' without a care in the world. We're gonna make sure they get good dreams goin' forward, once you're dead." Lester loudly interrupted. "Vinny, feel like strappin' this guy up?"

Vincent pulled a knife out from his sheath and began to trace the underside of your ex's jaw with the point, like he was daydreaming about stabbing the knife through his tongue and up into his brain.

"Easy, Vinny," Bo said as though soothing an animal. "All in due time. Still got stuff to do, remember?"

"Stuff to- Stuff to do?" You ex stammered as fear finally made itself clear in his hazy mind.

Lester tilted his head with a sigh, sliding out of his seat to stand. "Y'know, he ain't very bright."

Bo shrugged. "Ain't our place to judge our guest's type. 'sides, ain't exactly like we're catches."

"Says you, 'm pretty as hell." Lester laughed, only increasing in volume when Bo smacked the hat off his head. 

Vincent watched them with an exasperated eye roll before turning back to his new victim.

"Now, under normal circumstances, we'd let Vinny here do his thing," Bo said slowly as he began to search Vincent's assortment of tools, "But this here's a special occasion. We ain't take kindly to child abusers 'round here. So we're gonna give ya what's coming for ya 'fore you burn in hell."

Their prisoner began to fight against his bonds, shaking his head. "No, no, you don't get it, they tried to baby trap me! I never wanted kids, they forced me to-!"

Vincent didn't hold back the backhand he gave him, hissing under his breath at the stinging left behind.

"I'm gonna pretend I ain't just hear you lying to me," Bo said. The calm evenness of his voice never failed to unsettle his personal victims and he could tell your ex was squirming as his cheek began to blossom into a bruise. "If you're goin' to hell, you better go an honest man, yeah?"

Bo turned around, brandishing a pair of pliers and a wild, terrifying smile.

"Let's begin."

You jolted awake with a sharp gasp, covered in a thin layer of sweat that left you feeling sticky. Nightmares have become commonplace to you at this point. Your ex haunted your dreams, stealing away your boys or, god forbid, hurting them again… It never fails to leave you shaking and gasping for breath every time. Tonight, though, you'd dreamt of your ex and his friends showing up and your hosts throwing you out to the wolves, believing the sly, honey-sweet words of your abuser over your pleas.

The mere idea of that left you feeling sick and scared.

Despite that, a yawn escaped you as you shook your head as though to shake off the lingering fear of the nightmare. You gave a glance at the window and frowned at how dark it still was outside. The digital clock on your bedside revealed it was barely past 3am. God, it felt so much later than that.

You turned to look over at your boys, fast asleep in the little blanket and pillow cocoon you'd made them to sleep in so they could be on the bed. The blue night light cast dark shadows on their face and you stared at them until your eyes burned from lack of blinking. They were so soft and fragile, your heart divided in two just for these two boys. You'd burn the world down to keep them safe.

You pressed soft kisses to both their foreheads and slid carefully out of bed. The room was exactly as you left it, dark and only illuminated by a little star night light that must've once been Lester's. It was cute, you smiled to yourself. The blue walls were covered in posters for bands you didn't recognize and a few well-known horror films. He also had a small, ornate frame of pinned butterflies over the door. It suited him, the longer you thought about it.

Quietly, you opened the door and crept out into the hallway. The twins' bedroom doors were closed and you sighed internally that they were asleep. That meant you likely hadn't cried out when you awoke.

The stairs creaked and groaned as you slunk downstairs, wincing at every noise you made. In such a quiet space, the sounds were deafening.

"Y'alright?" A tired, low voice spoke up.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Lester talk. You'd forgotten he was set up downstairs and all the noise must've woken him up. You couldn't see him in the dark but you shot a smile in the direction of the couch anyways. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Nah," Lester sighed as though stretching, "Can't sleep, 'sall." And, with a soft click, he turned on the nearby lamp. Warm yellow light bathed the downstairs, dark shadows reminiscent of the ones on your boy's faces, you thought to yourself as you looked at Lester.

"I could make us tea." You hugged yourself to try and fight off that usual nighttime chill. "Might help us both sleep."

Lester gave you a nod and smiled shyly. "Yeah, yeah, sounds great Sweetpea."

When you disappeared into the kitchen, he let out the breath he'd been holding. Quietly, he grabbed his sheathed knife that he'd left on the table and hid it under the couch as he stood up to follow you. The kitchen was still dim, even with the light of the lamp stretching out into the quiet space.

"What's got you awake?" He whispered while creeping up behind you. "Kids causin' a fuss?"

You let out a sigh while rooting around for a couple of mugs. "No, no, just… Nightmares."

Lester frowned even though you couldn't see it. "What kind?"

"Bad ones," you said while pouring some water into the two mugs and glancing around for the microwave. "Ones where he comes and hurts me or the kids. Or ones where people throw me back to him despite my pleas not to."

"I'd kick his ass for ya, y'know that right?" Lester said, his voice much closer now.

You finally looked over your shoulder and you couldn't help the butterflies his words gave you. "Yeah," your voice was quiet and you loved the way he seemed to soften. "Yeah, I know you would."

"'m serious. My brothers would too. We ain't gonna let him getcha here, promise." He seemed insistent, which raised a concern for you. You got the feeling something had happened that you weren't aware of yet.

But anxiety suffocated you. "Did, um," you swallowed anxiously as you turned back around to drum your fingers anxiously on the edge of the kitchen sink, "Did he… come by?"

A beat of silence. It felt like it went on for hours when it was only a short minute, yet you felt suffocated all the same. "No." Lester said slowly, as though trying to choose his words carefully. "No, he ain't been here."

You didn't believe him.

Then you were presented with a choice. Play it cool or freak out. Neither of which were great options but you liked your odds better if you just played nice and pretended to believe him. All you had to do was play along until the fan belt Bo ordered for you arrived and then you could leave.

If your ex wasn't here in the house then that meant he was somewhere nearby. But, based on Lester's tone, he knew where he was and wasn't telling you. That didn't sit well in your stomach but you swallowed it down and nodded. "Okay. Good."

So the two of you sat against the counters drinking tea in the dark. He happily made small talk while you nodded and listened to the trials and tributes that came with being a roadkill cleaner.

He'd been in the middle of telling you a story about a fawn with a broken leg when the basement door swung open with a heavy thud. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you shrieked, staring at the shape moving in the beacon that was the yellow basement lights.

Vincent froze in place, staring at you through the eye holes of his mask. One of his hands was wrapped crudely in a bandage and the other held a pointed carving knife. On instinct, you ducked behind Lester while peering over his shoulder at the other man, watching Vince tilt his head almost comically.

"He says he's sorry for scarin' ya." Lester said with a chuckle. "Y'alright?"

"Sorry," you sighed, bumping your forehead in the space between his shoulder blades. "Just… high strung, I guess."

Lester hummed. "Can't imagine what you've been through. I promise, things'll be easier for ya from now on."

You couldn't help but feel that as an omen of some kind. Though you weren't sure if it was good or bad.

The next time you woke up, it was morning. Sunlight peered through the blinds and hit you in the eyes, making you wince as you yawned. It felt later than you usually slept in and it struck you that no one had woken you up wanting breakfast or attention.

Realizing the boys weren't with you, you shot up from the bed and took off downstairs. All you could focus on was your pounding heart and desperate need to find your boys.

You came to a halt when you heard laughter and voices. When you stepped off the stairs, you went straight for the kitchen and sighed with relief.

Peter and Mikey were playing at the table while Lester was making breakfast in the kitchen. Vincent had Peter in his lap who was coloring with crayons at the kitchen table while Bo sat with Mikey and helped him in lining up his dinosaur toys in front of the couch.

For the past few years since the boys came into your lives, your ex had outright refused on multiple occasions to bond with them. Peter and Mikey had learnt quickly that, when their father was around, they had to be silent and obedient.

So seeing them openly playing and laughing made you feel dizzy. While he was nowhere near, you still worried that your ex was going to round the corner and slap Mikey for getting his toys everywhere or yell at Peter for being too loud.

It felt like a weight had been lifted at the sight of them being happy.

Peter saw you and practically leapt off Vincent's lap and ran over to show you his drawings. "Dinosaurs!" He beamed up at you with pride and you could definitely tell where Vincent had done rough outlines to let him color in. The gesture was sweet and you couldn't help but smile.

"They're very nice!" You cooed as you gave Peter a kiss on the cheek.

"Breakfast'll be ready soon!" Lester called out over the sound of sizzling bacon. "Wash your hands, I ain't lettin' y'all get sick. Lord knows where Bo's been." He teased and grinned over his shoulder at his brothers. He softened when he saw you but quickly resumed cooking.

You let the twins pair off to wash up and joined Lester in the kitchen instead. "Didn't take ya for the cooking type."

Lester gave a little chuckle. "What, ya think 'cuz I clean streets, I can't cook? Mama taught me how, said it'd be good for me to learn so I ain't dependin' on her forever. Said I ain't allowed to get married to some girl 'n rely on her for everythin'."

"She sounds like a great mom." You said wistfully, approaching Lester slowly to watch him work. Eggs, bacon, pancakes beginning to stack up…

"Nah," Bo's voice from behind surprised you. Peter was in his arms, head slumped against Bo's shoulder as he stared ahead at nothing. "She wasn't all that great."

Lester didn't say anything to that.

You decided not to bring it up at breakfast.

"Store's jus' down the corner, can't miss it." Bo said, not even looking up from the television. He and Lester were watching a game when you'd offered to go get groceries as a thanks for them housing you and making you food.

They'd protested but, eventually, Vincent had suggested he go with. You hadn't liked the look they all shared but you didn't have time to dwell on it, too focused on trying to get Peter to stand still long enough to put his shoes on.

When you, Vincent, and the boys ventured outside, you were struck at how empty the town felt.

Even for a small town, you expected to see at least a few people walking around, right?

But everything felt deserted as you followed Vincent down the sidewalk towards the little general store. The boys stayed close, alternating between holding yours and each other's hands as you walked. Things got stranger and stranger the more you walked - street lights didn't work, there was no sound coming from any of the houses, and you swear that a woman across the street has peeked over at you twice in the past few seconds…

"Hey, Vincent?" You asked slowly, coming to a stop a good few feet away. Something was very, very wrong about this place and it was becoming more difficult to ignore. "What's… what's going on?"

He looked over his shoulder at you before tilting his head. You wished you had a way to communicate better but your sign language was rusty at best and his hands moved too quick for you to follow clearly.

You felt multiple pairs of eyes on you and you couldn't help but whip your head around before your eyes caught on the display case beside you. A few figures stood displaying different outfits outside what seemed to be a clothes store. You grimaced, never really being a fan of mannequins, and were about to turn away when you realized one of them looked distinctly like your ex, down to the terrible haircut and all.

Fear clogged your throat and you forced yourself to swallow yet again that day. It was a coincidence, surely, but it still deeply unsettled you. The boys were trying to hurry after Vincent but your grip was a vice around their little hands. "Vincent, I think I want to go ba-"

The figure's eyes darted down to meet yours.

You felt a scream in the back of your throat but all you could let out was a gasp. Stumbling backwards, you scooped up both kids in your arms as you tried to put distance between yourself and the figure. It didn't move - he didn't move - and that only made you feel sicker and sicker. "Vincent!" You shrieked, training your eyes on him where he stood unmoving. "What is this?!"

He stepped towards you, hands held up to placate you, and you felt all sense of fear begin to melt into relief as Vincent got closer. The tears of horror mixed with relief when he hugged you.

Your ex was dead. But you felt like this was just a new type of prison…

[wannaeatramyeon]

Jake Kim x Reader: Cinema

G/N. Soft and fluffy feat Big Deal a lil.

 "You on a date, boss?"

Jake says yes without missing a beat, flashing you a grin and snaking his arm around your waist.

He sees the smirk on Jason's face, the light nudge Lineman gives Brad, and the pride and approval on Jerry's face.

The grin soon melts away though, when Brad follows up with "You going to see Rocky XX too?" and Jake only just manages to hide his grimace.

The answer to that is also yes. But he would prefer to not have a date crashed by the rest of the crew.

Heavens above, you're patient enough with Big Deal and so sweet to everyone. Gotten to know the street and the occupants like the back of your hand, spending more evenings and weekends there than not. 

However. Even with how much Jake lives and breathes Big Deal, he misses some one on one time with you.

Away from everyone, he thinks as he takes in the sight of his boys in front of him. He can't exactly tell them to go away though, can he? A rare weekend off work where they get to just be.

He succumbs to his fate. 

Imagines everyone huddled on the one row together. Seated next to each other. Cosy. A family affair instead of a romantic date. Probably won't be able to sneak you some kisses here and there-

"We're not seeing Rocky!" comes the unmistakable sound of Lua's voice. "We're going to watch The Boy and The Pigeon! Enjoy your film!"

She disappears as quickly as she arrives. A whirlwind of hair and a force of nature. Giving you both a small wave, mind laser focused on reading the goddamn room and shoving the boys towards a different screen.

"B-but we already got the tickets!"

"I wanted to see Rocky XX!"

"Why does Jake think seeing Rocky is romantic anyway?!"

Why?

To be honest, the Rocky franchise died off somewhere along V. Who knows how the hell these films are still being greenlit. Nevertheless, the newest one is a low stakes film where Jake doesn't care what happens apart from you cuddling up to him and some kisses if he's lucky.

It's calculated and planned and Jake mentally pats himself on the back for how things have turned out.

Except-

What he didn't expect was the score to be good, the script to be great, the choreography to be amazing, and the acting to be even better. Neither of you could take your eyes off the screen. You laughed and cried and gasped together. 

Thoughts of cuddling and kissing and even making out completely out the window as you're both on the edge of your seat for the entire two hours.

It was fantastic. Perhaps the best movie he has ever seen (and he could practice some of those moves too).

You're both still talking about it as he walks you home-

"When he came back as a zombie to fight that vampire?"

"And the lizard joins the fight to win the title?" Jake chuckles, at your enthusiasm more than anything else, "Yeah. I liked that."

But as your apartment appears on the horizon, he can't help but think that maybe this was a bit of a waste. That the day is over and as good as the film was, maybe he should have arranged something else, after all it’s been a while since both your schedules have aligned.  A date where you can actually talk and be in each other's company. Instead of being captivated by the screen, your attention could have been held by him.

Jake tries to shake off the doubts and recapture the lighter mood from seconds ago.

He's not entirely successful.

You realise something is amiss.

You peer over at your boyfriend. His sudden subduedness. The small line forming between his eyebrows that you hate so much, because it means he's unhappy about something. You pause mid step and he stops alongside you.

"Don’t overthink it. I had fun," you tell him. You always have fun with him. "Thank you."

Jake's smile returns when he sees the expectant look in your eyes. The way you stretch up towards him. press yourself into his space, and he leans down; meeting you halfway.

Your lips lightly press to his, eyes closing, eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks and his own falling shut. Strong arms encircle you, pulling you ever closer, deepening the contact.

There'll be a next time, your kiss reassures him.

You tastes like popcorn. Sugar and butter and salt. Sweet and savoury and perfect.

[starie-leo]

𝐄𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

I did one for Wonbin’s birthday so I had to do one for Eunseok too.

Small Note: He was on a Japanese fortune teller show where his chart was revealed and I calculated his rising sign using that but could only estimate his birth time. This reading will use that estimate instead and be in whole sign system.

Eunseok's chart for some reason felt hard to read for me. But anyways Eunseok felt nice to read. He has such calm and attractive energy even his chart reflects that. He's someone with a lot of depth underneath his warm persona. Overall he's a very private individual, I think, to the point where even the closest person to him may never get to know him fully either.

Leo Rising:

There’s no doubt that Eunseok loves to give a good performance after all that is how he leads his life. He may not always enjoy the spotlight but he needs to be appreciated, loved, recognized and adored for everything he does no matter how small it is. Indicator of big beautiful eyes & a bright smile. He’s creative, playful & exudes a warmth and comforting aura (confirmed by his members). This placement also gives one a royal, prince-like beauty. He’s got Aquarius on his 7H meaning that he can be detached in his relationships.

Chart Ruler in 8H:

His chart ruler being in 8H could indicate that he can be mysterious and intense. He's also pretty intuitive, introverted & secretive and values his alone time a lot. His life probably went through a lot of transformations & he had to make life-changing decisions while young, but he most likely dealt with everything the same way without changing much (based on rest of his chart). This is a good placement for producers.

Pisces Sun in 8H:

He’s a pisces sun like Wonbin so Eunseok also is very creative and has a very empathetic and sensitive nature. He has sun trine saturn, meaning he’s responsible, mature & very good at using his talents to achieve success. It also indicates that his personality doesn’t change very easily (combined with leo rising) since saturn shows slowness. He also has sun sextile moon, making him charming, considerate, and able to get along & connect to others well. This aspect adds to his creativity. Eunseok can be difficult to get to know since his sun is in the 8H making his personality a bit more hidden from the rest of the world. I think Wonbin also confirmed this once that we may think we know him but really we don't. He has strong charisma and can come off as mysterious & intense. This combination also creates an extremely generous and affectionate person. He's someone who has no issues giving their all to others and can have a hard time saying no to others.

Pisces Mercury in 8H:

Introverted & introspective placement. He’s very intelligent and thoughtful but has trouble expressing that clearly with words. Empathic & a very good listener. He’s able to understand others quickly & is good at using his intellect & skills to help others. His mercury square jupiter implies that he has a broad outlook on life and can quickly understand different topics and abstract concepts but he zones out and procrastinates a lot. Excellent intuition too. He's more observant & pays great attention to detail. He could also be curious about or interested in deeper philosophical stuff and also topics related to death.

Capricorn Moon in 6H:

He's emotionally resilient, mature & very good at analyzing emotions in a logical way. Level-headed & very in control of his emotions so not as expressive & reactive as people would expect, causing him to come off as insensitive & be easily misunderstood. He also has moon trine saturn meaning that he's very reliable, patient & responsible. He may also feel like he needs to be productive & useful to others. Capricorn moons have the habit of treating everything professionally & like a task even things that seem unserious (he mentioned in an interview once that he keeps a professional mindset even when he acts cute for his fans 😭). Another indicator of his personality being the same for many years. Similar to Wonbin he also has moon in 6H so his health is also sensitive & he can feel tired easily. But unlike Wonbin, his way of dealing with daily problems is to just be calm, patient and wait it out.

Aries Venus (Rx) in 9H:

Very alluring & sexy placement actually. Usually aries venus are bold & daring when it comes to love but as Eunseok has his venus in retrograde, it adds an attractive layer of shyness to him. That doesn’t mean he can’t be affectionate, fun or direct, he's just reserved. This is an indicator of marrying earlier than peers (that Japanese astrologer had also said something similar) or that he gets into relationships very quickly. He has venus trine mars & pluto, which are really just creative aspects. Also implies he can be passionate & impulsive in love. He's probably attracted to foreign cultures & people since he has it in his 9H & has the natural ability to attract a lot of foreigners. He'd also look really good & be able to attract a lot of attention if he tries out foreign fashion or does music/collabs with foreign artists.

Sagittarius Mars in 5H:

Eunseok's quite enthusiastic & optimistic about his goals. He might enjoy playful fighting, debates & maybe even light-hearted arguing too. Indicator of having a warm, funny & easy-going nature. Reckless too. The type to fight passionately for what he believes in. He has quick thinking skills and can come up with good strategies & ideas in a second. He's very independent in his relationships but also gets competitive & impulsive when he does like someone (combined with his aries venus too). This is also a great placement for performers. He has pluto conjunct mars, so he's very persistent and a bit obsessive when he wants to achieve something but it also means he's able to consistently put in the effort for his goals. This is also an aspect that implies he can attract a lot of possessive & controlling people. Overall he has tremendous focus, willpower and drive.

Gemini Jupiter in 11H:

Another fame and attraction indicator. He's naturally very likeable & relatable and is able to become popular very quickly. He's also able to make important connections and become friends with influential people naturally. Another generous and giving placement. Eunseok is a greatly skilled and talented performer. He's also someone difficult to lie to. A cute detail is that while he may struggle to have faith in things, he finds his luck and hope through his group and friends.

Taurus Saturn in 10H:

Obviously Eunseok works in a really tough and high pressure environment as he is an idol; this is just an indicator of that. He may feel as if he must be taken seriously and be well-respected for his work and achievements at all times. This is also an indicator of having to work a lot harder and facing more delays than others to achieve success, however, combined with his mars placement and his capricorn moon, Eunseok is a hard-worker, and a very persistent and ambitious person so he's able to put in the work consistently to get what he wants. For this, having taurus saturn is also really good since it signifies that he also has good endurance level.

Uranus in 7H:

The most likely to date someone unusual (😭) or have partners that feel completely different (almost alien-like?) from him. He may be the type to suddenly get into relationships and then have sudden breakups too (especially combined with venus and mars placement). He also values his space and independence a lot (based on his chart overall), so once the relationship is over he's the least likely to get back with his ex. I think others may also view him as someone whose actions can be unpredictable.

Neptune in 7H:

This placement usually indicates a person who can have very addicting relationships. He definitely has high expectations in relationships which quickly disappoint him when he does get into a relationship. He may also have an issue of giving 'too much' to his partners but not getting enough in return. Others may have an unrealistic view of him and fantasize about him a lot. The combination of uranus & neptune here can also indicate that sometimes his relationships hold him back from being independent or become turbulent but he's unable to see that (like he has a rose-colored view on them). There are placements in his chart that indicate that he's a realist so his neptune placement may not affect him as much.

Pluto in 5H:

He has a strong desire to be creative and is very attracted to artistic stuff. Can become obsessed with expressing himself and being admired. Very powerful in terms of creativity, almost overwhelming. The art/music he'll make will be very transformative and deep.

These are just my insights on his chart so try not to take them too seriously. I was also supposed to upload this much earlier but I fell sick so I forgot. I'll update the reading if I notice any more aspects or interesting placements.

[friedthoughts]

(full article + translation under the cut. i don't agree with some of the things vasseur has expressed here but i do think some of the things floating around in f1twt were taken out of context. two things can be true at the same time. also it's difficult to judge what was said here because a lot of tone has been lost since this was a video interview + tbh vasseur has never been great in interviews)

Lewis Hamilton past-prime? «That's harsh. And it's not true!» replies Ferrari boss Frédéric Vasseur

Ferrari team boss Frédéric Vasseur takes stock of the first two Grands Prix of the season, which have been eventful for Formula 1, the Scuderia and Lewis Hamilton.

Fréderic Ferret

published on March 27, 2025 at 05:36 am

updated on March 27, 2025 at 2:44 pm

A tradition seems to be developing between L'Équipe and the man who, for the past two years, has been the boss of Ferrari. Last year, as he got off the plane from Shanghai, he came to our offices to share his rich experience with a few of our subscribers.

This year, Frédéric Vasseur (56) gave up his planned lunch with his deputy Jérôme d'Ambrosio on Wednesday to give us his analysis of a strange start to the season, whether for F1, the Scuderia or its new driver Lewis Hamilton, via video link from his Maranello office. The discussion lasted over half an hour, during which the former engineer demonstrated his didactic and pedagogical skills, as he often does, in an attempt to explain what many people, even in the paddock, fail to grasp.

«When the Ferrari boss returns from China after such a weekend, how does he feel? Is he satisfied with Lewis Hamilton's victory in the sprint race, or annoyed by the double disqualification at the end of the Grand Prix?

My job is to be able to analyze the positives and negatives of every situation in order to progress. In every weekend there are positives and negatives, and in this one there were both extremes. Unfortunately, what we often keep in mind is the last race or the last event.

So we went home a little frustrated, because we felt we'd taken a step forward compared with Australia (Leclerc 8th, Hamilton 10th). It didn't materialize in points with the disqualifications, but I think we were on the right track with plenty of positives: Lewis's pole and sprint win and Charles's race on Sunday. But then again, even the good stuff, you have to know how to analyze it and understand it in order to progress.

Was this sprint success important in validating the Hamilton project?

We don't need it to validate the project, as you say. Or maybe the project is much broader than the China sprint. On the other hand, we have fulfilled part of the contract. We won't have to answer the question of the first pole or the first victory. Out of the three races we've done, this was one of the biggest dominations we've had. To finish seven seconds clear of second place at the end of a race that's a third of a GP, that kind of answers the questions and doubts.

«When you're at Ferrari, you're never in the normal, everyday routine. There's always that passion.»

How is Ferrari dealing with Hamilton's arrival on a day-to-day basis? After the enormous excitement of the first three days when he arrived in Maranello in mid-January, is there still the same passion, the same pressure, or has everything returned to normal?

When you're at Ferrari, you're never in the normal, everyday routine. There's always that passion. Certainly even more so with Lewis. We saw it in China this weekend, we saw it in Australia. Now we're trying to stay away from it. Some people said to us, “Ah, you've made a lot of noise with Lewis this winter.” No. It was the press that made a lot of noise. We didn't ask for anything.

We took a photo. We didn't do a single interview. We haven't even done a launch in Maranello. So this craze exists, it's inherent to the team, to the drivers, but it's not something we're looking for. We just have to live with it. I take it as a positive, because it's good to have fans waiting outside who are enthusiastic. I like that energy.

Isn't the media hype sometimes too much to bear?

When you're in such an exposed sport, you know you're going to have to deal with it. We received a lot of criticism after the weekend in China, but that's part of the game. Formula 1 is a hyper-mediatized sport. You have to accept being applauded - that's nice - but you also have to accept being criticized - that's the law. My only concern is that the hype shouldn't get in the way of our work or our performance.

«Lewis can get the most out of everyone around him because he's demanding with himself, and that goes down very well when he's demanding with others.»

You meet again twenty years after working together in GP2, in 2006. Has Lewis Hamilton changed?

We all change in twenty years, but the common characteristic between the Lewis of today and the Lewis of 20 years ago is that he's ultra-demanding. The first to go for a run in the morning, the first to do sport. It's his trademark and he's kept it. And by being demanding with himself, he's also ultra-demanding with everyone else. He has this ability to push everyone a little. When it comes to driver performance, it's not just about braking late at turn eight.

Lewis can get the most out of everyone around him because he's demanding with himself, and that goes down very well when he's demanding with others. It also allows us to change our vision. We don't do things like Mercedes, like Red Bull, like McLaren; we all do things differently, but despite everything we all manage to finish in the same tenth. Lewis, because of his past, has other requirements, he thinks about things differently. And I'm not saying it's better or worse. But it helps us.

Since his arrival at Maranello, Hamilton has seemed transformed, more human or more open about his feelings, as when on Saturday he confessed that he had been affected by some of the criticism he had received…

(He interrupts) I don't know. But you have to admit that some of the reviews have been… (he hesitates) very harsh. To think that Hamilton is worn out, out of date, is harsh. And what's more, it's not true. Look at his last race last year: he started sixteenth and finished fourth, overtaking his teammate.

And what about Leclerc, isn't it too hard for him?

He's less in the spotlight, it's true. But it gives him more time to himself, to do other things, to be with his engineers. There's good in that. There could be a little frustration, a little jealousy, but I think Charles is intelligent, he understands the situation better and sees the positive side of it all. He can focus 100% on the sporting objective.

On Sunday, you weren't happy with the FOM's production, which had forgotten to broadcast part of Hamilton's message concerning internal instructions. Did you explain this to them?

I didn't have to. I told the press what I thought and that was that. I'm not saying that the FOM (Formula One Group, in charge of promoting, broadcasting and managing F1 events since 1987) did it on purpose. I don't know, I wasn't there.

Forgetting that it was Lewis who suggested that Charles pass was surely better for the show, but it was a little less sexy, a little less celebrity press, to discover that the champion decided on his own to let his teammate pass. Still, it was mega-classy and sporty on Lewis's part. A true demonstration of professionalism and respect for the team. And it's not often that a guy who's a seven-time world champion says, “I'm going to let my teammate through because he's going faster than me.”

Charles Leclerc's disqualification on Sunday is similar to what happened to Russell last year in Belgium (the Mercedes driver won and was disqualified for the same reason). Is there any way of trying, when you're on a single tire change, not to go under the weight limit because of rubber that's too worn?

(He interrupts) It's not just that. The tires are only part of the explanation… We also lost a liter of water when Charles' drink supply leaked. Disqualification for weight is always the sum of many small factors.

As for Hamilton's disqualification, it's a problem you've already encountered in 2023 in Austin with Leclerc…

Exactly. We had to be too aggressive. That's the way it is. This setback shows that we're striving for perfection and that sometimes we look too far.

«The aim of the game in F1 is to get to the limit of all the parameters, everywhere. To get to the last gram of weight, to get to the last tenth of a millimeter of skid, to get to the last millimeter of rear wing deflection.»

Does this mean there will be many more disqualifications?

Yes, that's for sure. You have to distinguish between disqualification for taking risks and disqualification for cheating. The aim of the game in F1 is to get to the limit of all parameters, everywhere. To get to the last gram of weight, to get to the last tenth of a millimeter of skid (floor wear indicator), to get to the last millimeter of rear wing deflection. So it's clear that the more pressure you're under, the more intense the battle, the more you need to get closer to those limits, and the more risks you take.

On Sunday, at the end of the race, you told us that you were perplexed by all these results, that you found it hard to analyze them. The other team bosses are saying similar things. How do you explain the fact that, in a sport that is so technical and so precise, you are all faced with a kind of incomprehension?

Formula 1 isn't that simple. When you build a car, you get a single-seater capable of a certain potential. Let's say your potential is 1'28” per lap, in the best of situations. If your team or your driver doesn't put everything in order, if a mistake is made somewhere, your lap time will drop to 1'28''4.

Before, there were five tenths between each team, so when Verstappen made the biggest mistake, which rarely happens to him, even if he lost four tenths, he was still ahead of us. Only by a tenth, but ahead of us. Today, some people think that McLaren is crushing everything, but we're very close in terms of lap times. We've got four teams within a tenth of each other.

Last year, in the last four races, when no one was making any changes, there were four different winners. And each time, the winner took half a lap off the others. This means that, depending on track, tarmac and weather conditions, the whole hierarchy can be changed. We're not talking about the potential of the car, or the potential of the driver - although they count for a great deal - but about extracting the potential we can from them over a weekend, depending on their characteristics.

Does pole position and sprint victory comfort you after Sunday's disqualification?

I don't need cheering up. I can see that the car isn't bad; we've got the figures to prove it. To win, you need to get close to your full potential, that 1'28''00 base I was telling you about, but that exposes you to mistakes. That's the rule. Verstappen, a year and a half ago, his car was worth 1'28''0 but the runner-up was worth 1'28''7. He didn't have to put himself at the limit, at the last millimeter of ride height, or scrape off the last hundred grams of weight or push harder on the brakes than the limit. He was doing 1'28''1 and had pole by five tenths. Today, it's not the same life. So he also makes mistakes, he makes set-up errors like the others, because we're all now in this dynamic of searching for the limit.

As someone who's been managing drivers for thirty years, would you change one of your drivers after two starts, as Red Bull seems about to do?

These are Red Bull stories. You don't know how difficult it is to judge what's going on in a team. You don't know what goes on there, what leads them to this decision. There are twelve billion reasons behind it, which only the team and the driver know. And sometimes, the driver doesn't know them. So I prefer not to comment. We may find it brutal because it's been two races, but we don't have 10% of the elements to judge. I hate it when people judge what we do, so I'm not going to do it for others.

Last year, you scored your first success at the third Grand Prix, in Australia. Will Ferrari be able to repeat that success next week at Suzuka, the third meeting of the season?

We already won the second race! (He bursts out laughing).»

[say-hwaet]

That's the Way it Is

Chapter 39: Learn to Heal, Part I Next Chapter: Forty Summary: You and Arthur follow the breadcrumbs that Mary Beth left you. What will you encounter along the way? Warnings: Mature themes, violence, language Word Count: ~10,000

Roanoke is as though Lemoyne and the Heartlands had converged to make a new landscape. With the woods and hills and rivers from the Heartlands and the grim, gray, and dangers of Lemoyne, this territory is beautiful while also uncertain. 

The whole ride up north, you’ve heard talk about a band of monsters called the Murfrees, an inbred group of people who feast on the innocent and consider torture as their means for fun. 

You haven’t wanted to travel this way, but Arthur promised he’ll keep you safe, not that you ever doubted. 

The leaves are already beginning to change color, the oranges and yellows nearly mesmerizing. The cool air is also welcomed, given the heated days you spent in Guarma. You rebutton the holes in your new jacket that Arthur bought for you in Rhodes and readjust your hat. 

You look down and watch Arthur as he leads Montana. Even though Arthur has been taking good care of Montana: feeding him extra apples and beets, and keeping him groomed and well-rested, he still insists on walking every few miles. 

So far, he’s walked ten miles today. 

“Arthur,” you say softly. “I’d feel better if you were on the horse around this area.”

He doesn’t stop walking, but looks up at you over his shoulder. “Maybe in a little bit.”

“Arthur—”

In the middle of your argument, you hear a loud scream. You instantly clutch at the reins, the young leather creaking under your grasp. 

Without saying a word, Arthur hurries to hoist himself on Montana’s back, pressing close against your spine. With a quick kick of his boot heels, Montana gallops onward toward the sound of the scream. 

“You think it is the Murfrees?” you ask worriedly. 

Arthur doesn’t answer, which is all you need to know. 

But the good thing is that Arthur’s now fully armed, having spent some of the money you’ve both recovered on a rifle and repeater. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach past you to pull the repeater out of the saddle’s holster. 

Even with the afternoon sun, the dense underbrush and trees don’t let hardly any light in, making it difficult to see more than a few yards ahead. It lends a haunting quality to the forest, amplifying every sound around you. the scream echoes once more, closer this time, desperate and filled with terror.

Then, there is the sound of gunshots. And laughter.

Murfrees. Even you know it is them. Their victim’s screams tell you enough.

“Hah!” Arthur urges Montana to go faster and the stallion breathes deep as he pushes forward up the hill.

The ground beneath Montana's hooves turns uneven, and the trees claw at your view with their skeletal branches. You lean into Arthur, feeling his heartbeat against your back, fast and firm like the pounding hooves. The sense of urgency grows with every breath you take, the cold air biting at your cheeks as you and Arthur race to intervene.

As Montana crests the hill, the scene below unfolds with chaotic clarity. A small group of travelers, their stagecoach overturned, are fending off a band of Murfrees. The attackers whoop and holler, swinging machetes and brandishing rusted shotguns with wild abandon. A woman clutches a crying baby to her chest, two others are already dead and lying in the dirt.

You gasp at the sight and Arthur pulls the reins until Montana skids to a halt. He immediately enters the fray, swinging off the horse and running towards the Murfrees.

“Come fight an armed man, you bastards!” he roars, instantly firing his repeater in rapid succession, taking out three of the Murfrees instantly.

You have to do something. You need to help those alive to get to safety. You dismount Montana and run towards the overturned coach, where others are trying to hide.

The woman with her crying baby spots you coming, confusion riddled across her face. 

In your rush, you slide through the muddy underbrush, reaching out to her. "Get behind the coach," you call out, your voice strong despite the clamor. She hesitates for a moment before nodding, scrambling towards the relative safety as you cover her retreat.

Your heart pounds like it's trying to escape from rings of fire. Excitement. Danger. The thrill is good for you, but for these strangers, who have not grown accustomed to such things, need immediate protection. It’s only a good thing that this does not phase you one bit, allowing yourself to help while Arthur singlehandedly takes out these monsters.

You urge the mother forward and when you escort her to the back of the coach, you regard the remaining strangers: two men and a young girl, about eighteen.

“Any of you hurt?” you ask.

They all shake their heads. That’s good.

“You’re going to be okay,” you say as you regard each one. Eye contact is one of the first steps of establishing trust. Each of them seem reassured and while the young girl's eyes are wide with fear, there's determination there too. You nod to her, a silent promise of protection. You glance back over your shoulder to where Arthur is now grappling with another Murfree, his movements fluid and unforgiving. The sharp report of gunfire punctuates the air, a grim symphony that harmonizes with the pounding of your own heart. The earth underfoot trembles slightly with each discharge, a tangible reminder of the chaos erupting around you.

You turn back to the people behind the coach, your voice cutting through the noise. "Stay down and keep quiet. I'll come back for you." Your promise is firm, an anchor in the storm of violence around them. You move swiftly, heading back toward the front lines where Arthur is still engaged.

Your body moves with the memory of countless such skirmishes, each movement calculated and precise. You retrieve a small sack from your pouch, and you squeeze it to shape the ingredients inside. Moving closer, you retrieve a match and strike it quickly as you step assuredly towards Arthur and the Murfree.

“Hej, ty blázne přírody!” you shout and that gets the assailant’s attention. Just as he looks up at you, you throw the bundle his way.

And it immediately bursts in a plume of colored smoke.

A smoke bomb.

The Murfree's confusion is palpable as he coughs and waves away the thick, disorienting cloud that envelops him. Taking advantage of his bewilderment, Arthur lunges forward with a swift precision honed by years of survival and combat. His fists connect with a thud, the sound muffled by the smoke that still lingers like a ghostly curtain. The Murfree stumbles back, unprepared for the ferocity of Arthur’s attack, his movements sluggish as he tries to regain his bearings.

Arthur doesn't let up, his every strike a testament to the pent-up rage and protectiveness that fuels him. You watch for only a second more, just as two others come charging down the hill.

“Here, kitty kitty!” they gargle at you. But you’re ready.

Pulling out another crafted item, you take out used shotgun shells stuffed with a mixture of gunpowder, fat, and moonshine, lighting each one before throwing it in their direction. They burst just as they reach them, emitting a loud crackle loud enough to burst their eardrums.

They immediately reach for their ears, falling to the ground in agony.

Now is your chance.

You sprint forward, your bare feet digging into the dusty earth as you close the distance between you and your fallen foes. With a swift motion of your firm hands, you disarm them, your palms jabbing into their jugulars to ensure they remain subdued. Your heart races, the thrill of the fight feeding the fire within you, but you don't let it distract you from your purpose. You're here to protect, to survive, and to find a way out for you and Arthur.

Glancing back, you see Arthur finishing off the last Murfree brood, with a quick slash of his knife into the creature’s neck. Aside from your heavy breaths, the forest falls silent. The battle over.

You watch Arthur as he rises from his bended knee, immediately scanning the area. “Kitka?!”

“I’m here!” you call out as you run over to him. His eyes meet yours just as you enter his embrace. He holds you tightly and you can feel the pounding of his heart.

“You alright?”

“Yes…” you sigh and after a moment longer, you gently push him away. “We need to check on the survivors.”

He nods, his expression hardening as he turns towards the smoldering trees where the skirmish had erupted. It seems that is how the Murfrees operate. Wait for an unsuspecting traveler to come by, then use fire to scare their horses and block their path.

It makes you furious inside.

Together, you and Arthur tread cautiously, your senses alert for any more Murfrees hiding in the shadows. The ground crunches beneath your feet, a stark reminder of every hazardous step you take in this lawless land.

As you approach the stagecoach, you take the lead, knowing that the strangers are learning to trust you. “You all still okay?”

One of the men peeks out from behind the coach. When he meets your eyes he nods his head. “Yes…We’re alright.”

You smile. “Good. It looks like the worst is over. My husband took care of them.”

After a brief hesitation, they slowly rise from their hiding place and cautiously step away from the coach. Their eyes scan their surroundings, taking in every detail with a mix of curiosity and caution. The woman's baby, who had been crying inconsolably, has finally settled down but she continues to whisper soothing words to her little one, refusing to take any chances with their safety.

“Thank God you came when you did,” the other man says, quickly approaching you. “We were all on our way to Annesburg, when they had come out of nowhere!”

“They’ve been taking travelers captive,” the young girl whimpers, her cheeks stained with tears. “But none have ever been recovered.”

It seems that these folks are some of the lucky ones.

You turn to Arthur who has his jaw set, his gaze steely with anger. “Crazy bastards…” he growls as he eyes the tree line. “We gotta get you folks goin’ before any more decide to show up.”

You agree. This may postpone your travels, but you can’t leave the job unfinished. As you look about, you notice a wagon cart that the Murfrees had brought, and it is hitched to a worn-out nag with scars and old wounds. The poor creature. While you wouldn’t dare burden the mare with its use, the wagon will be useful.

You touch Arthur’s arm and he looks at you. “Do you think Montana is strong enough to pull a small wagon full of passengers? Just to Annesburg?”

He must see what you’re getting at and he regards Montana who has remained close by. “It ain’t too far from here,” he reasons. “I think we can manage it.”

Arthur then parts from you and walks over to the old nag, running his hand down his face. You watch silently as he slowly approaches the mare, speaking softly to her. “Woah, easy, easy…” Once he is able to touch her, he gently runs his palm across her flank, assessing the condition of her body. He then whistles for Montana, who comes trotting over. Once the stallion meets Arthur, your husband begins patting his neck with a familiar ease. "Alright, Montana, let’s get these folks safe," he murmurs as he begins to unhitch the sad nag from the wagon cart.

You turn to the group of travelers who look at you expectantly. “We will help escort you to Annesburg.”

The woman sighs, bouncing the baby in her arms. “Bless you.” She turns to the young girl. “You will be seeing your mother soon, Meredith.”

Meredith smiles softly, blinking at her tears as they start to fall.

Arthur secures Montana to the wagon, ensuring everything is sturdy and safe. You gather a few supplies from your own pack—some water, dried meat, and blankets. Distributing them among the travelers lightens their palpable stress, even if only slightly.

“Let's move out then,” Arthur commands with a gentle authority and you turn to see that he has Montana hitched to the cart and the nag tied to the back. It looks like you will have a unique caravan to travel with, though temporary it is.

You gesture with a sweep of your arm for the group to follow. “Shall we go?”

And with that, you and Arthur begin the journey of an honorable life.

***

“What do you wanna call her?” Arthur asks you as you sit beside him in the wagon cart. After dropping the survivors off and resting near Annesburg, you’ve set out on your journey once again. The sun has finally risen high enough to peek through the leaves, creating an autumn glow that is nearly breathtaking. It’s a beautiful contrast to yesterday’s events and you’re happy that it is all over and done with. 

When you returned the frightened travelers to Annesburg, the husband to the woman and baby insisted you take twenty dollars, and after refusing adamantly, Arthur finally accepted it as to not offend the man. While you weren’t doing it for the promise of a reward, it doesn’t hurt to be twenty dollars richer. Any bit is going to help as you and your husband search for your lost family. 

You shrug as the gentle jostling of the wagon cart pushes you closer to Arthur. “I’m not sure, yet.”

Arthur chuckles softly. “What? I figured you’d be itchin’ to give her a name. You aimin’ to give her away for free, too?”

You smile at that, remembering your time in the Heartlands and the mule that you rescued. “I just think I need to give it some thought. She might not even respond to the name I’ll give her.”

Arthur flicks the reins gently. “Maybe so.”

You finally leave Roanoke and enter the border of Ambarino, which has more mountain ranges and cooler air. You wonder how much farther you’ll have to travel before you reach the reservation. Arthur seems to know where he is going, which gives you peace of mind. 

The trees start to thin out, which means you’re either approaching a lake, valley, civilization, or a homestead. Really narrows your options, doesn’t it? 

As you both come down the road, a lake comes into view, with a solitary cabin at its edge. You start to look for any sign of a turtle, wishing that this could be the place that Mary Beth, and hopefully, others. 

Arthur doesn’t seem to think this is the place, for his eyes focus ahead, his mind clearly elsewhere. 

As you come around the bend, your eyes remain fixed on the cabin, and the front of it comes into view. As well as a small pen with two horses. One is a cremello gold Dutch Warmblood, his coat shining when the sunlight hits it just so. 

And the other…

A palomino American Saddlebred mare. 

You quickly grip Arthur’s knee, making him jump in his seat. “A-hey! Kit, what—?!”

“Stop the wagon!”

He pulls the reins immediately but before Montana can even come to a halt, you leap out of the wagon and run in the opposite direction of where you were going, back toward the small cabin at the edge of the lake. 

“Kitka!” Arthur calls out to you as you slide down the embankment, ignoring the tear you just made in your skirts. As you near the house, you slow your steps. You aren’t sure of who lives here, and if you want to be sure of what you suspect, you need to not draw attention to yourself. 

You approach the pen where the horses are kept, your steps calm but not the beating of your heart. You eye the mare carefully, watching her as she munches on some grass. 

And you whistle. 

Instantly, the mare sticks her head up, looking around as she nickers softly. As her head turns, she meets your eyes and her ears perk up excitedly. 

It is. It’s Odliv! 

But how? How did she get here? Did this cabin-dweller take her? Rescue her? You scan her body. She looks well-fed, her coat and mane still shiny. She hasn’t been neglected, thank God. 

But you still need answers. You need to confront the thief. 

You reluctantly back away from the fence just as Odliv approaches it. You turn to the cabin and as you walk over to it, you see Arthur pulling up the wagon.

“Kit, what are you—?” he stops mid-sentence, almost gasping. “Is that?”

And you’ve already gone up the steps and are knocking on the solid door to the cabin.

You aren’t sure how this is going to go down. But you’ve already decided to take a more assertive approach. You square your shoulders, relax your face, and prepare to give the stranger a good stare-down.

You hear an odd step approach the door and it finally swings open.

Revealing an old man, with a long grey beard and buckskin hat. He sees the assertive expression on your face and his brow raises with a guarded curiosity. “Can I help you?”

You immediately thrust your arm toward the pen, pointing a finger at your mare. “Where did you get that horse?”

The old man lifts his chin and folds his arms across his chest. “Who’s askin’?”

You lower your brow. “The owner.”

At that, he chortles. “You can’t be the owner. That mare has never been ridden!” He ambles his way out of his cabin, brushing past you. It is clear that he has a crooked gait, perhaps an injury of some kind? You want to take pity on this stranger, but your expression remains firm. He walks to the edge of his porch, pointing at the mare. “She followed me home as I was ridin’ Buell, but I haven’t been able to ride her or even go near her. It’s been enough just to keep her here!”

You hear Arthur’s heavy footfalls behind you. “The mare’s hers, mister.” Arthur's voice is firm, carrying a weight that you've come to rely on. The old man eyes him suspiciously, then looks back at you with an expression softened by, resignation or perhaps genuine curiosity.

"Is that so?" the old man replies gruffly, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "Well now, if she truly belongs to you, ma’am, you’d best prove it.”

You lift your chin. “Gladly.” And with that, you turn and walk towards your husband. “Arthur, open the pen.” You pause, looking at the old man over your shoulder. “That is, if it’s alright with you.”

The stranger shrugs, waving his hand. 

Now given permission, Arthur nods and walks toward the gate. Upon reaching it, he lifts the latch and opens it, stepping aside.

Waiting a moment, you let out a sharp, short whistle.

Odliv perks her head.

That’s when you give the command. “Přijít!”

Odliv tosses her head, snorting excitedly, as she trots past Buell and out of the pen. Arthur makes the swift motion of closing the gate behind her before Buell tries to make his escape. Odliv’s tail swishes wildly and when she reaches the porch, she turns her body to stand parallel to its edge, waiting for you to mount. You look at the old stranger, lifting your chin in a proud gesture, before you seamlessly swing your leg over Odliv's back. 

You settle down with a natural grace, every movement a testament to the years of experience and the bond between you and the mare. Arthur watches with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, his pride in you clear even from a distance.

But of course, you are a performer, so you must finish this with a little bit of flair. “Teď se, Odliv, ukloň.” You watch as her ears tilt toward the sound of your voice, and without any resistance, she lowers her front right leg, bowing her head and lowering herself into a formal bow. You remain stable on her back, squeezing her barrel gently with your legs and you remain astride without sliding or falling off.

You hear Arthur cackle, clapping into his leg. “Haven’t seen you do that in a long time, darlin’…!”

The old man’s mouth goes agape. “I’ll be damned…!” he gasps, astonished by the display. “Well, I ain’t too proud to admit when I’m wrong…!”

You wait for Odliv to rise before dismounting, landing lightly on the soft ground. As you pat her flank affectionately, Odliv nudges you gently with her nose, a sign of her deep trust and affection for you.

Arthur saunters over, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I reckon you just about won that argument single-handedly.”

You shrug. “Used to be able to stand on her back while cantering.” You chuckle to yourself. “I’m not ready to try that yet.” You look back at the stranger, softening your expression. “I do apologize for my forwardness. I should be thanking you for taking good care of her.”

The man waves off your apology, the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent as he grins. “I should be thanking you for the performance! It isn’t every day that I get to see somethin’ quite like that.” He motions to walk down the steps and holds out his hand to you. “Hamish Sinclair.”

You don’t hesitate to take it and shake his hand firmly. “Kitka Morgan.” You point to Arthur. “This is my husband Arthur.”

Hamish looks over at your husband. “Nice to meet ya.”

Arthur tips his hat in a gesture of casual respect, his eyes never leaving the interaction between you and Hamish. "Pleasure's all mine, sir."

Hamish nods appreciatively, sizing Arthur up with a keen but friendly gaze. “You ain’t from around here, are you? Most I ever see are from the reservation, if they even travel this far.”

Your heart leaps at this revelation. “You mean the Waipiti Reservation?”

Hamish blinks and nods his head. “Yes, that’s the one. The chief is a nice feller. We’ve traded animal skins a couple of times.”

Your curiosity piques, and excitement builds as this information brings you one step closer to your family. “We want to speak them. We had a friend help them once. Seemed they really needed it,” you say, warmth lacing your tone as you glance at Arthur, who nods in agreement.

“Indeed they did,” Hamish agrees, resting a hand on his waist. “But they’ve been doin’ pretty well these past couple of weeks. Got rights to their land back.”

Your eyes widen. “They did?”

Hamish grins from ear to ear, seemingly eager to share the good news. “Yeah! Seems they were able to submit some evidence of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar’s illegal involvement in retrieving oil. They had murdered a man who had refused to sell. That and they presented some forged documents that had been recovered.” Your heart leaps with joy at this news. It seems that your photographs and Charles’ involvement did some good after all. “Not sure how they did it, but it seems they had some divine intervention.”

Your smile mirrors Hamish's as your heart swells with pride for Charles and the Waipiti. Knowing that your actions had helped, even in a small way, brings a sense of accomplishment that warms you deeply. "That's incredible news," you say, feeling a surge of hope. "It’s comforting to know that good people are still getting happy endings.”

Hamish nods. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Could you point us in their direction?”

Hamish nods and turning his face to the northwest, he points towards the sun. “They’re up north. Start by following this road southward and it will take you past Moonstone Pond. It will eventually go northward, past Donner Falls. The reservation is just on the other side.”

You’re close. You’ve seen Donner Falls on Arthur’s map before. Though he doesn’t have it, the picture in your mind is clear. You reach out to Hamish and shake his hand again. “Thank you.”

Arthur clears his throat and you look back at him. “Darlin’, we should probably get goin’.”

You nod, feeling a twinge of reluctance at leaving the warmth of this conversation, but knowing the importance of moving forward. "Thank you, Hamish, for sharing that with us. You have no idea how much your news means to us."

"Anytime," Hamish replies with a heartfelt smile. "If you ever find yourself back this way, don’t hesitate to stop by. I know that we just met, but I kinda like you folks.” He chuckles. “Even if you had nearly accused me of stealin’ your horse.”

You look down at the ground almost bashfully. “Well, I…”

Arthur's hand nudges your shoulder gently, a silent reminder of the purpose that still lies ahead. "We appreciate it, Hamish. We’ll definitely make a point to come around again," he says with a tip of his hat, an expression of gratitude etched across his rugged face.

As you both turn to leave, the cool breeze picks up, rustling through the sparse grass and carrying with it the faint scent of rain from the distant hills. You pull your coat a bit tighter around you, feeling the chill seep into the air as the sun dips lower in the sky. You whistle for Odliv to follow, and she eagerly does. Buell, still in his pen, whinnies to her, seemingly longing for his fellow equine companion.

You hear Hamish chuckle behind you. “Guess we can’t always get what we want, eh, boy?”

Arthur leads the way back to the wagon, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. He reaches it first and rests his hand on the seat as he turns to you. “How far do you wanna go before we make camp? We may not make it before nightfall.”

You look at the sun. He’s right. You have only a couple hours of good daylight left. “As far as you think we can go. I want to cook you a good meal so we might want to hunt something.”

He nods. “That, I can do.” He holds a hand out to you, offering to help you onto the wagon cart.

But you take a step back, shaking your head. “If it’s alright with you,” you start, turning to look over your shoulder at Odliv. “I would like to ride Odliv for a little while.”

When you turn back to your husband, you can see a knowing smile on his face as he nods softly. “Shoah, Kitten.”

He watches with those deep blue eyes as you approach Odliv, who tosses her head and stamps a hoof eagerly. Mounting her feels like second nature; for a moment, it's as if the years rewind, back to the days of daring circus acts and the thrill of performance. You can't help but feel a wave of joy and relief sweep over you and you let yourself lay against her as you sit astride. You pause for just a moment, listening to her breathing and the wind in the trees.

“Chyběl jsi mi,” you whisper and you know in her own way she understands you.

You hear Arthur make a soft clicking sound with his mouth and the gentle flick of the reins. You slowly rise and as you watch him drive the wagon cart, you take hold of Odliv’s golden mane and urge her into a gentle trot, keeping pace beside the creaking wheels of the wagon. The rhythm of her movements is comforting, and the wide-open land stretching ahead feels like an invitation to freedom and new beginnings.

For the first time in a good while, things are looking up.

***

The soft earth is cool against your back as you lie down looking at the sky. Its dark hues are illuminated by twinkling stars, framed by pine trees as a beautiful landscape. 

You hear the sounds of the crackling fire and the sound of Arthur’s boots as they scrape against the gravel. He had just thrown another log in by the sounds of it, perhaps as an extra precaution as the nights are now colder and the area uncertain.

Your eyes remain fixed on the celestial canopy when he walks over to you.

“Dinner was good, darlin’,” he says warmly. “Near forgotten how well you cooked pheasant.”

“So did I,” you say with an amusing air and you hear him chuckle softly.

“You should cook more often,” he teases, settling down beside you with a soft grunt, and you turn your head to look at him. His face is partly shadowed, flickering in the firelight, but his eyes are clear and bright.

You smile, remembering the nights you’ve shared under similar starry skies, though they were enshrouded in secrets and hushed whispers. What a thrilling time, to be secretly loved, but it was also painful not to be able to share it out loud.

“I will, now that I can. I have recalled so many recipes my mother had taught me. Things that I helped Pearson cook in camp.” You look back to the sky and let the smile remain on your face. “I didn’t realize how much I knew until it all came back to me.”

Arthur lays down, supporting his head by tucking his arm behind his neck. “How did all that feel?”

Your brow pinches as you try to sort all of that out. “It happened so suddenly. I had fallen into the ocean when Micah threw me overboard. I was drowning and when everything went dark, it all just started to come back. Flashes of who I was, who I had met, conversations I had. Then I remembered Blackwater.” You pause a moment and you feel Arthur place a comforting hand on your torso, curving it to your side and pulling you close. “When I woke up, it was as though I had never forgotten a thing. If I had a question, the memory would come right to me. I didn’t have to think twice.”

“Did it hurt?”

You turn to look into the eyes of your husband, his face golden from the amber firelight. “I think being away from you had hurt me more.”

Arthur's grip tightens slightly, a mixture of pain and affection etched across his features. "That time without you," he starts, his voice rough like the sand underfoot, "felt like I was draggin' my soul through miles of hell." His fingers trace a line along your arm, tentative as if rediscovering a forgotten map. "But now, lookin' at you, I think maybe we got a chance to make things right."

You nod slowly, feeling the weight of his words sink deeply into your heart. The night air is crisp, and the distant howls of coyotes blend with the crackling of the fire, but you aren’t frightened or worried. “We do, Arthur.” And you find yourself leaning into him, tucking your head underneath his chin. “And come morning, we will be with our family again.”

He nods. “And we can finally search with those treasure maps.”

“And hunt bounties.”

“And go west.”

You feel it welling up inside you. The hope that has been softly dancing in your mind these past few days. Since you stepped onto that pier in Van Horn. “Yes,” you sigh.

“You wanna buy a home or build?” he asks you.

You think to answer with a question. “What makes the most sense to you?” You nuzzle him, taking in a deep inhale of the tobacco and pine that you love so much, and feel your body sinking into restfulness. “What has been a theme of this life?”

“Or what it should have been?”

You smile. He understands.

And you say it at the same time. “To build a home.”

Pulling you closer, he wraps his coat around you, keeping you in the warmth of his embrace. 

Then he adds, “Together.” 

And you fall asleep to those words.

*** It was just as Hamish said. Past Donner Falls and on the other side is the Waipiti Reservation. The sky is open with an assortment of birds that fly overhead, and the water that flows under the bridge is riddled with life. A doe and buck graze on some dry grass nearby, completely unbothered by the wagon cart and horses. 

You sit beside Arthur this time, hands gently clutching his right arm, and you take in the fresh air and scenery. Leaves fall and a breeze carries them over, an autumn rain of color landing in your short hair. 

Arthur looks at you and smiles softly just as your eyes cast downward. Your heart beats faster now that his attention is on you, but also for the anticipated reunion that soon awaits you. 

You wonder if they will be there. The tribe is definitely a clue, so you are curious to see how they are connected. Perhaps they know something about the turtle home? Whatever that is. You still haven’t figured that part out yet. 

Arthur continues to drive the wagon down the dirt road, turning right towards a slope that is fenced by several pine trees. By the snake-like lines of smoke rising into the blue sky, you deduce that it is the reservation, not someone’s camp. 

As the wagon rumbles closer, a group of children playing near the edge of the forest pause, their curious eyes fixed on your approach. You can't help but return their gazes, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement bubble within you. It's a reminder of how different your lives might soon be—away from the past that you’ve tried to leave time and time again.

You smile at the children, wanting to appear friendly and they immediately run into the trees towards the smoke. “Do you think they won’t welcome us? Given how they’ve been treated…” you trail off, the weight of Cornwall and the oil feud pressing down upon your thoughts. Arthur squeezes your hand, a silent gesture of reassurance.

“If our people have met with them,” he begins to say, his voice soft and honest. “There’s a chance they might see us as allies, not enemies.”

Following the road, it leads up the slope, right into the trees as they open up to reveal the tribe’s domain. Arthur drives slow and careful, pulling off to the side before making a complete stop. You take in the reservation. Several men and women are out and about and they pause their daily tasks to look at you with calm, but curious eyes. The children, who you had spotted earlier, have run up to their parents, pointing and whispering.

Arthur gets out of the wagon cart first, walking over to your side as he regards the curious tribe. When he reaches you, he offers a hand and once you take it, he helps you hop down. 

He turns around and as you both look out, the tribal members step aside as an older man, with dark long hair and a deep blue coat, walks toward you both. He carries a calm, omniscient expression and if you look close enough, you can almost see a smile on his face. 

He raises a palm in greeting. “Mr. Morgan,” he says, his voice rumbling like a distant thunder. 

Your heart skips a beat at the acknowledgment. 

Arthur takes a step forward, taking your hand as he walks. “You know who we are.”

The man nods. “I am Chief Rains Fall.” He pauses as he looks back to his people. “We’ve been expecting you.”

And once again, the tribe parts, and you hear a strange set of footfalls. 

And there, hobbling on a crutch, is Hosea. 

With Charles aiding him. 

You let out a sob simultaneously with any remaining decorum and you let go of Arthur’s hand to run towards them. Your vision is blurred, but you can still make out their forms as you open your arms. Blinking at the tears in your eyes, you reach Hosea and wrap your arms around him, still being careful with his injured arm and leg. 

You can feel the weakened embrace of his working arm as Charles remains at his side to stabilize him.

“My girl,” Hosea says softly, his voice fatigued and trembling. “We’d begun to run out of hope…”

“So did we,” you cry, and you back away as you wipe your tears away with the back of your hand. “But we found the note.”

Hosea nods knowingly. “Mary Beth’s a clever girl.”

You nod, sniffing softly. “I have so many questions.”

“So do we,” Charles states as his eyes are cast upward as Arthur approaches. “Where did you and the others…?” His voice trails off and his brow pinches. Then he looks at Arthur. “Where are the others?” His voice is tinged with sobriety and curiosity, preparing himself for the worst. 

“Others? You mean you haven’t seen anyone since the robbery?” You feel your heart sinking just as it had risen up again.

Charles shakes his head, readjusting his support for Hosea, who listens patiently. “No, I mean Micah, Bill, Javier, and Dutch.”

You turn your head to meet Arthur’s gaze. There is so much to tell and it feels like it would take years. With everything that happened in Blackwater, to your marriage, Dutch’s hidden motivation, Micah’s murderous attempts, and Javier’s choice to stay. 

But Arthur, straightforward, unwavering Arthur, gets to the meat of the matter with a simple answer. “Javier was the only one left.”

“And where’s he?” Hosea asks. 

“Happy,” you answer and an image of Javier’s face appears in your mind. You can see him on a large ship, looking out onto the open sea. You blink away unshed tears. “He’s found purpose again.”

Hosea nods thoughtfully and looks at Charles. “Let’s find a place to sit and talk. It’s been so long since I’ve talked to my son and daughter-in-law.”

You have to look at Charles to see his reaction to Hosea’s slip, but his expression remains the same. He must know already, or doesn’t seem to find it shocking. You don’t think Hosea would have revealed your long-kept secret without just cause. 

Charles smiles at Hosea. “Of course, let’s get you back in the cabin.”

And just as though nothing surprising had happened, the life of the tribal members has resumed. They go about their business and you and Arthur follow Charles and Hosea as the invalid hobbles on his cane towards one of the few cabins on the reservation. 

Everyone seems friendly with Charles and Hosea, as they either nod or smile as you all pass by. How long have they been here? You didn’t realize how thankful you’d be for Charles’ direct involvement with the tribe, and how it would return a reward for all of you. 

It is a beautiful spot. Even if it wasn’t for the excuse of oil, though falsified it was, you can see the prospect of such an area. It seems that Dutch wasn’t the only one sinking in avarice. 

As you reach the cabin, the smell of pine and earth fills your senses, a welcome distraction from the turmoil swirling in your mind. Once inside, Hosea settles into a worn but sturdy chair by a small potbelly stove, his face etching lines of relief as he leans back. Charles opens the hatch and stokes the fire, sending sparks dancing within. He blows on it gently and once the flame grows, he closes the hatch.

He backs away slowly. “I’m going to get some more firewood.”

But you want him to stay. You haven’t seen him in what feels like forever. “Can that wait?”

Charles looks at you, eyes softening. “We will have plenty of time to talk.” He looks at Hosea. “But we can’t all take up your time all at once.” And with that, he nods to Arthur before stepping outside.

Your eyes focus on the door still but you hear Hosea softly chuckle behind you. You quickly turn around.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asks, chortling curiously.

Hosea sighs. “Our wood box is full.”

You raise a brow and find a chair to sit in. “So what is it that made him leave?”

Hosea tucks his chin, pulling his coat collar up to his ears. “Dancing Wind.”

He says it like it is not just describing the weather. Like it carries weight. “What?”

A hand goes on your shoulder. You look up to see Arthur standing there, a smirk on his lips. “I think Hosea means a lady, Kit.”

Hosea nods. “Charles has found himself a lady friend. Though he isn’t the first to admit it…yet.”

Arthur's smirk widens into a full grin, the lines around his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, no doubt that explains the extra firewood trips,” he muses, his voice thick with jest.

“And other things for the past week or so. Though that doesn’t mean he’s neglected in helping me.” He stretches his good leg, letting out a contented sigh. “I’ve stayed in the reservation while the rest have camped close by. Didn’t want to crowd the tribe too much.”

You can't help but smile, feeling a warmth that isn't just from the blazing fire. It's rare these days to find moments like this, fleeting and sweet amidst the tumult of your lives. It's a reminder that even in the shadows of the outlaw life, there are slivers of ordinary joy and human connection.

Arthur takes a seat next to you, his presence grounding. "What’s on your mind, darlin’?" he asks quietly, his gaze locked onto yours, searching for answers in the flicker of the firelight reflecting in your hazel eyes. “I can tell you’re thinkin’ about somethin’.”

"Ano, I am," you reply, leaning into the warmth of his side. "Just thinking how it's nice... to see some happiness around here." Your fingers brush against his hand, a silent message of comfort between two souls bound by hardships as well as joys. 

“I take it you’ve seen not much of that, lately,” Hosea says, his voice sobering. “Tell me, what happened…when we parted ways.”

You feel yourself tensing as the memories are available to you, like looking in an index. Your memories are organized, structured, vivid, unlike they ever were before you lost them. You feel Arthur squeeze your hand and you turn your head slowly to meet his eyes.

“I can tell him, Kit.”

You shake your head. “We both can.” You look down at your lap. “But where do we start?”

Hosea tilts his head. “Well, start with the explosion.”

You shake your head. “No, Hosea.” And you lift your eyes to meet his gaze. “I need to go way back.” You pause a moment before explaining. “To Blackwater.”

It is then that his eyes widen, now understanding. “You remember it, do you?”

You nod. “Ano, I do.”

Nobody here knows. They are all still in the dark as to what had happened to you. The deceit and betrayal. Hosea leans forward in his seat, grimacing at the movements that he wants to make but his injured body protests. “Who did it?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with a palpable tension.

Arthur's hand tightens around yours, his other fist clenching in anticipation. You take a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill your lungs, steadying your nerves. "It was Dutch," you say quietly, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. "Micah was there, too, but it was Dutch who shot me in the back.”

“He wanted Kit,” Arthur explains with a tight jaw, his eyes narrowing as he recalls that fateful day. “He was angry that she was spoken for and he’d rather her be dead than be with me.”

Hosea’s expression saddens, lines of betrayal etching deep into his weathered face. “Dutch,” he whispers, his voice aching as though in mourning. “You said only Javier survived…” He lifts his eyes again, searching for some sign of solace in your expression. “How did Dutch die?”

Arthur is only quiet for a moment before answering. “I killed him.”

You’re quick to explain. “He was sick and dying. He was going to kill Javier.”

The silence that stretches between you is thick, each breath shared seems laden with the weight of the past. You look to your husband and you see the ache in his expression, undoubtedly the memory of that day fresh in his mind.

“And I suppose you killed Micah?” Hosea asks. “I guess it would be too lucky if he died in the robbery.”

And Arthur gives a straight answer. “Yes. He admitted to killing Kitka. Well, he thought he had thrown her overboard.”

Hosea blinks, his brow pinched. “Overboard?”

That’s right. He doesn’t know you all had been on a ship and ended up in Guarma.

“A lot happened before people died, Hosea,” you say gently. “We can tell you the long version or the short version.”

Hosea looks out the window, watching the remaining light as the sun sets behind the trees in the distance. “I may be old and weak and tired,” he says as he settles back in his chair, his sentence punctuated by a cough. “But I always like a good yarn.”

And so, together, you and Arthur start from the beginning.

***

“So, Javier has made himself a pirate…” Hosea sighs, a small smile growing on his face. “Never would have imagined that, but it suits him.” You and Arthur didn’t spare any details. From finding Arthur on the rooftops in Saint Denis, to sneaking on the boat, then the storm and all that transpired in Guarma, Hosea is now able to see the big picture. “And this Hamish fella you met sounds like an interesting individual.”

You nod, smiling. “Yes. I am glad that he had good intentions when he kept my horse. It makes sense that he would be an honorable man, given his relationship with Rains Fall and his people.”

Hosea glances around the cabin. “Yes, they’ve been kind to us. Cornwall and folks like him could learn from these people.”

Arthur leans forward, resting his head in his hand as his elbow buries into his knee. “Folks like Cornwall ain’t the learnin’ sort.”

You can't help but agree with Arthur's blunt assessment, your mind wandering briefly to the cruel faces of men driven by greed and power, men who wouldn't hesitate to put an entire town to torch just to write down a few extra numbers in their ledgers.

Hosea shifts in his chair, the creaking sound of the wood under his weight mirroring the weariness in his bones. “So, what’s the plan now?” he asks, his voice low and raspy from years of talking over campfires and the whisper of schemes.

Arthur looks at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before speaking. “We been thinkin’ of collectin’ some treasure. Got some maps.”

“We want to go out west still,” you explain. “To Oregon.”

Hosea nods knowingly. “Good thing John likes surprises.”

You tilt your head. “Where is he?”

There is a small pause and you wonder if it is because Hosea has become more tired as the hours have passed, but you remember that Hosea is more methodical than that. “The Marstons have gone to Oregon.”

Your eyes widen. “Alone?!”

Hosea holds out a palm. “No, not alone. Sadie had gone with them. Seems that she was keen on being a bodyguard. Come to find that protecting people was something that she had taken quite a liking to after everything that’s transpired. It seems like the right path for her, and she’s made peace with it.”

Arthur exhales heavily, the tension fading slightly from his rugged features as he leans back against the wall of the cabin. “Well, that’s good,” he says slowly. “But I don’t like that he just left you here.”

“Now, don’t start making assumptions, son,” Hosea chuckles. “I insisted I stay here and recover.” He gestures to his broken arm. “I am not in the position to travel thousands of miles just yet.”

Hosea has a point, and to be honest, you are impressed with John’s initiative to make such a trip. You’re also glad that Sadie had gone with them. You figure it is good for her to do something else other than wish for the death of O’Driscolls. It has a bit of purpose more productive to escort John and his family to unfamiliar territory.

“So you do plan on going, though?” Arthur asks, interrupting your thoughts.

You watch Hosea as you wait eagerly for his reply. You had tried to convince him to go with you and Arthur. To live out his days in peace. And now that everything with Dutch is over, the Pinkertons off their trail, it seems like the ideal time to start anew.

Hosea nods, his gaze thoughtful and distant. “Yes, I reckon I’ll join you once this heals up nice and proper. Always wanted to be able to see the Pacific again.”

A smile tugs at your lips at the thought of all of you, finally free from the endless cycle of robbery and pursuit, settling down to a life where the horizon was vast and untouched, instead of closing in like a noose. The dream seems almost tangible, a soft whisper of hope amidst the harsh realities you all had faced.

Arthur stands up, his chair scraping back on the rough wooden floor. He stretches out his arms, his movements exaggerated and languid, a sign that he's trying to shake off the tension that always seems to linger like an uninvited guest. “Well, if that’s the plan, then we oughta start doing what we can to make it all work. You’ll be healing soon enough.”

Hosea chuckles. “If you think months is soon…” Then his smile falls. “You can’t afford to wait that long. Winter’s coming. If you stay, you’ll be stuck here for the cold months.”

You look up at your husband. You both wanted to get going as soon as possible. But you can’t leave without Hosea.

What do you do?

Arthur must see the concern in your eyes. “We can sleep on it. We don’t wanna rush into somethin’ without thinkin’ it through. Dealt with that enough times to know better.”

You relax. You and Arthur will talk about it tonight. You nod, signaling your understanding.

“Well, that sounds like a good plan, son.” Hosea motions to rise from his chair and you immediately go to his aide. He smiles gratefully to you and nods towards his cot in the corner. With steady arms, you support him as he hobbles his way over, each step slow and measured. The old injuries and the long years on the run had taken their toll on him, but his spirit remained unbroken. Once Hosea is comfortably seated on the cot, he pats your hand gently. "Thank you, Kit," he says with a warmth that fills the cool air as the door swings open. Looking up, Charles comes back in, acting nonchalant.

“Where’s the wood you was after?” Arthur teases, raising an eyebrow at Charles as he brushes the snow from his coat.

“Got waylaid,” Charles replies with a half-grin, taking off his coat and hanging it. “Seems some kids needed help settling a dispute in their game. Couldn’t just leave them to it.”

You chuckle, knowing that couldn’t be the only thing that kept him occupied. “Be that as it may, it looks like Hosea is ready to turn in.”

Charles nods. “It is about that time. Chief Rains Fall says you two are welcome to set up camp here, and I can take you to the others.”

You can’t help but feel excited. You had hoped to see them today, but you can’t rush this. You’ve been away for a month, you can wait one more day.

Arthur nods, his gaze lingering on the flickering light escaping the stove as he opens the hatch, contemplating your next steps. "We'll make camp here then. Get a fresh start at dawn."

You sense the unspoken worry in his voice, the weight of decisions yet to be made pressing down on him just as heavily as it does on you. It's a familiar burden, shared silently between the two of you as you navigate this fraught path you've both chosen. The resolve to leave the gang and start anew, though liberating in thought, is daunting in practice. But this is a different kind of parting. Just as you are about to be reunited, you will soon have to say goodbye.

As Arthur stokes the fire, casting long shadows on the walls, your mind wanders back to all of the conversations that you had started with each of the members, hoping to stir them to find their own paths. You wonder who might have made that choice, and what their lives are like now. You wonder who all made it out, and if any others have been long gone.

By the tired look in Hosea’s eyes and the expression on Charles’ face, you know that will have to wait for tomorrow.

Arthur closes the door to the stove and stands erect, wiping his hands on his pant legs. “We will be goin’.” He turns to you and you step away from Hosea’s cot to take his offered hand. “You rest well, Hosea,” he says with a gentleness that only a son would give to his father.

Hosea leans into his pillow, closing his eyes. “That won’t be difficult, I promise.”

You all chuckle softly and Charles walks you and Arthur to the door. “Goodnight, you two.”

You and Arthur speak in unison. “Goodnight, Charles.”

And he closes the door behind you.

Outside, the air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and the distant howl of a wolf. Stars twinkle overhead, unobstructed by the smoke of cities or the glare of electric lights. You find comfort in the darkness, in its vastness and mystery. It reminds you of nights spent under the celestial canopy over the many years of traveling across various terrain.

Arthur hasn’t let go of your hand as he leads the way back to the wagon, where your supplies and camping gear is stored in the back of the wagon. There aren’t many tribal members out now, most have gone in their teepees and tents to retire for the night. It is so calm and serene, a true picture of unity.

After gathering up the tent and bedrolls, you and Arthur set up camp at the edge of the reservation.

And just as you finish unrolling the bedroll within the tent, you feel the rush of cool air from Arthur entering the tent. “The horses are all okay?”

Arthur closes the tent flap behind him, going to his knees, and taking off his coat. “Yeah. That poor Murfree horse is going to need some extra care before we travel.”

You nod. That poor thing had been through a great deal before you came across it. The Murfree Brood didn’t even have one scrap of humanity to treat their horses well. “Come to bed, Arthur.”

Arthur hesitates for a moment, his face shadowed in the dim light of the lantern. You see the lines of worry that often crease his brow soften as he looks at you, a hint of that old affection flickering in his eyes. "All right," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly from the cool night air. He moves closer, discarding his boots with a thud against the tent floor, and you scoot over to make room for him on the bedroll.

As he settles down beside you, the fabric rustles under his weight, a comforting sound in the enveloping silence of the wild. The space between you lessens as you wrap your arms around him and pull him close to you, letting him fall back into your chest. “What’s on your mind?” you ask him. “You don’t seem ready to sleep just yet.”

“I’m not,” he quickly answers. “We still ain’t done.”

“I know.”

“Hosea is gonna need a lot of time to heal. We can’t just leave him.”

“He’s been taken care of. Charles is keeping him out of trouble,” you say with a hint of jest. “Maybe…” you start, and let your voice trail off. You aren’t sure how well he may take what you’re about to say.

“What?” he presses.

You sigh. Might as well just come out and say it. “Maybe we can get a place ready for him first. Let him rest here in the wilderness. Maybe even meet Hamish and they can keep each other company.” You feel Arthur move away from you and watch him roll on his other side to look at you face to face. You try to read his eyes, but are unsure of what he’s thinking. “When our home is built, we can send for him. He will be with us.”

Arthur's eyes study yours in the lantern light, flickering with conflicting emotions. He seems torn, his rugged face etched with both hope and skepticism. "You think Hosea would go for that?" he asks finally, his voice carrying a hint of hopefulness that surprises you. "He might, if it means he don’t like to stay here instead.”

Your brow pinches. “Arthur Morgan, you must have a little faith. I think he doesn’t want to be separated from us anymore.”

“Faith…” he repeats as he averts your eyes. “Dutch used to speak of that.”

“Yes, but I think he misused that word. When I learned English, I took it for something different than he had made it out to be.”

“And what’s that?”

“Faith,” you say, pausing to gather the right words, your gaze fixed on his earnest face, “to me, it's about trusting what you can't see. Believing in something better ahead, even if the path isn’t clear.” You reach a hand to touch Arthur’s chest, feeling his beating heart beneath. “Dutch just wanted us to blindly follow him. That is not the same thing.”

Arthur turns away slightly, looking out into the darkness of the tent that isn’t illuminated by the lantern. “Can’t see him now.”

“Still isn’t the same. And you’re just being difficult at this point.”

You watch as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “I guess I am.”

He shifts closer, the warmth of his body mingling with yours in the cool night air. "So, we build a place," Arthur murmurs, still wrestling with the idea as it hangs between you like a delicate promise. "And we send for him..."

"Yes," you affirm softly, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt. “If that’s what you want to do.”

He shrugs. “I can’t decide right now. We just got here.”

You don’t want to rush a decision, but you most definitely want to make a decision soon. “I can picture it now, Arthur. We’re so much closer than we’ve ever been before. Can you believe it?”

He shakes his head softly. “No, don’t seem real.”

You pull him close for a kiss, long and delicious, making it as tangible as you ever could. You part with a deep sigh, leaning back to look at him. “I think it’s pretty real.”

You see the warmth in his gaze as he looks into your eyes, and then they cast down to your lips. “Yeah…”

“And we will see the others tomorrow.”

His whole body begins to relax and you see his gaze still focused on your body, his voice soft and lowly. “Yeah.” His mind is clearly drifting off. 

“And I will shave my head.”

“Yeah…”

You chortle, your brow pinched and your lips pulled back in a smile. “You aren’t listening anymore are you…?”

His eyes flicker upwards, blinking. “What?”

You try not to laugh, but instead kiss his nose. “Arthur, turn out the light.”

He chuckles, the sound rich and deep, resonating in the quiet of the tent. “Yes, ma’am.” Obediently, he rolls away and reaches up to dim the lantern, plunging the space into a soft darkness, save for the faint glow of moonlight that trickles in through a small canvas gap. And without a moment to spare, he returns to you, snuggling up into your chest and you feel his arms wrap around your waist. 

And you’ve never felt happier.

Thank you for reading! :)

Tag Requests: @photo1030, @eternalsams

[cyten0]

A Symphony in Crimson

Act 2: A Movement in White

Chapter 2-B

𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢

You look over the holding tank. Vital signs are good. Your brother’s craft monitor says their body's balance has leaned more physical, but within expected and necessary parameters. Given the Starchild has woken up more then a few times, it seems the procedure is successful, so far…

They're little more then a baby at this point. It’s no wonder they didn’t survive re-entry into the atmosphere, even with whatever they are. But You’ll give them a second chance. They're alive, and you’ll keep them that way.

𝄆 “Hey, Song! Are things going well?”

Oh! Your dad decided to come to the lab! He ruffles your hair a little.

𝄢 “Yep! They're still unconscious right now, but they have woken up a few times!”

𝄆 “We should probably give them a name.”

𝄢 “Been a bit busy keeping them alive to come up with one.”

𝄆 “You probably should. You’re technically their parent at this point! Even having as many sleepless nights as Suki did with your brother.”

𝄢 “I’m 13, I don’t think I can count as a parent.”

𝄆 “As if being young ever stopped you before?… Well if you won’t, I will! Besides, There’s still a few notes missing in everyone’s nicknames!”

Oh STARS really?!? You have got to be kidding. A literal revived falling star should not be named by one of the cheesiest naming conventions your music nerd of a dad could come up with! You feel your face shift into anger hearing that.

And blinding PERFECT, your brother rounds the corner. And he’s got that stupid smug grin for a pun!!

�� “I wonder what name we could have for our local… FA-llen star?”

Pftttt…. BLIND IT!!!! You hate that you laughed at that!!! Even dad got a chuckle out of that!

𝄆 “Okay, now we HAVE to call them Fa!

✦ “...F̴͈̽ă̸̭?̶͍͗”

Huh?! Oh, their awake!

𝄞 “Hello! Do you like that name, Fa?”

✦ “F̵̪͐a̷̧͐!̵͔͒”

𝄆 “I think that’s a yes!”

… Your face shifts back… If they like it, that’s what matters...

𝄢 “...It appears I’m outvoted.”

You put your hand against the glass. You’d let them out, but that virus you used is still rather active for now. They press their tiny hands where yours are, reaching for you. They're so small and fragile. And even now, they're still adjusting to the forces you’ve put into play, to salvage their once dead body and mind into something that can live. You just hope it’s worth it in the end...

… You’ll do anything for them. Blind the Astravian faith, you don’t care how sacred a fallen star is! They deserve to live! Even if your methods are considered heresy by the entire nation. Even if it’ll take effort. Even if you have to change what they are on a fundamental level. You don’t care who comes for you both.

As long as they live, you don’t care. You will make sure they don’t have to suffer what you went through, before mom and dad saved you. Don’t have to hide away and pretend to be someone they aren’t, just because they're different. To be discarded like trash, left for dead, because people don’t blinding care. Because people are scared of what they don’t understand.

The world called them a corpse. Will call them a monster. But It’s up to them.

You will be there for them, as others were for you. And you will make sure. That they get to live, and find out who they are, without the world telling them.

𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢𝄢

As Fa hangs up the phone, you can’t help but think back on that memory. When they were still so innocent. When they had their own face and name. When the world hadn’t hurt them.

And now. Now they looked like they could barely hold themselves together. Wearing a face of someone else. You doubt they even know what Siffrin did to them...

… At least they have people near them who can help. Who seem to care for them. Who they can be themselves at least a bit around, given they had their eyes and horn out. And clearly people who love them.

❁ “Well, if the crabbing saviors of Vaugarde are with them, Think both Bonnie and your Fa should be safe enough.”

♫ “Actually, I was kind of wondering about that. Could you tell us more about what happened? If that’s okay of course! I know it must be rough!”

Nille looks at you all, scanning you all for information. As is fair, you are strangers.

❁ “...If you tell me what happened to YOUR country.”

...Reasonable. But very unpleasant. Nobody want’s to talk about it. You literally see them cringe at the idea. You all were at fault, in some way or another. Still hurting by all that occurred. Still seeing the faces of those lost… Still wishing you had done things differently...

But someone has to say it. Even though it’s horrible, and you’re scared Nille will take this tale poorly, It has to be done, and it’s better it’s done early. You can do it… But…

𝄢 “Very well, I’ll tell, but not here. Like I said before, I don’t want to stir up a panic from eavesdroppers or rumors.”

Given some people here are holding their heads, you presume SOME were listening in. But you're not trusting that wish's abilities with information like this, if you can help it.

𝄡 “...Let’s head out. Early start.”

❁ “Fine. Faster we reach Carrefour, the better.”

You all get up. You go and pay for the meal. Glad the royal treasury kept Vaugardian currency to deal with your neighbors. You then join the others on the way out.

>>>

You’ve walked for almost two hours, and are frankly exhausted. As is Mi clearly. Neither of you are used to outdoor traveling like this! Much less long treks like this!! Nille seems somewhat more adjusted, but even they aren’t fully used to it. You’d blame the vigor of youth if it wasn’t for Mi. And of course, the three blinding Bladeheart knights are completely unfazed!!!

Ugh, that's it, enough is enough.

𝄢 “Right, I’m making an executive decision. Even if it draws more attention, I don’t think I can walk any longer. Ti, PLEASE just summon the car?”

Ti smiles and nods, as the party stops walking. Ti pulls out their staff, and begins tracing their summoning sigil on the ground. You and Mi plop down, taking the moment to breathe and rest. Nille walks up to you, confused.

♪ “Called it. Re, pay up.”

♯ “Aw… Fine! Knew I shouldn’t have taken that bet.”

♪ “As if her Highness was going to make it till sunset.”

Re hands La some silver. Really? Well now you’re in irritate mode.

♫ “Thank you So.”

𝄢 “Ugh. There goes the LAST little trace of that ‘blend in’ plan. BLIND it all.”

Nille just looks at you all, very confused.

❁ “… Why are we stopping, and what’s a car?”

𝄢 “We are stopping, because I am a scientist, and as such, far more used to sitting in a lab then walking SEVERAL miles. So we are not doing this BLINDING trip on foot.”

♫ “And a car is-”

In a flash of craft power, the car slowly materializes into place on the road. Right on cue.

♫ “… That. That’s a car.”

It’s a pretty decent model. Sleek, retractable roof, and adorned with brass accents against it’s otherwise lightless body. Plenty of seating, should fit you all no issue. Not the most intense off-roader, but should be able to handle Vaugarde’s roads well enough. Does have a decent AC unit and music player, as your dad REFUSED to get one without that. Should let you all go a decent pace too, which means reaching Fa earlier, as you very DESPERATELY want to do.

And most importantly of all, it’s not more BLINDING walking.

Your face shifts back to normal just looking at it. Now, important next point.

𝄢 “Good. Alright, who’s driving, myself or Ti?”

You are never letting La or Re drive again, so that’s the only options left.

𝄡 “Best you go first. That was a big summon.”

𝄢 “Alright. Hop in everyone.”

You slowly pick yourself up from the ground, walk around to the drivers seat, and hop in. The others get in as well, though Nille seems a bit hesitant and confused. Ti puts your camping supplies in the trunk, and then hops in himself. This car is somewhat Limo-like in seating, so they can all sit in a nice circle while you stay up here on your own, until someone wants to hop into the passenger seat.

❁ “Okay, this looks really fancy, but I’m still confused. It looks like a weird carriage or something.”

♯ “That’s right on the mark! Works just like a carriage! And it’s comfy!”

❁ “Okay, but we don’t have a horse?”

Better just demonstrate. You start the car up, and it thrums to life. Nille jumps a bit at that, and you start it moving. You keep it slow and steady, as you hear them talk behind you.

❁ “Oh. Okay. So just. Magic.”

𝄢 “Just craft and some decent Astravian tech. Though I’ll admit this model is a bit more advanced then most.”

♫ “Oh, we should get some music going!”

You hear Mi pull out their guitar and plug it in. And then her ever-great music fills the car. Heh, she even has a track to play some of Fa’s vocals… You know this song, Fa sang it on their first day out. You’re so glad Mi helped them sing more often. Tracks like these remind you of better times…

As everyone relaxes, and Re shows Nille some more of the little features, you simply take in the road. Have a few more hours to go till it gets dark and you set up camp.

This is a far nicer way to travel. You keep the car going fairly slow, since these roads are built for foot traffic and carts. Slow pace means it’ll take longer, but it also means no accidentally running someone over or anything. You want to see Fa soon, but your reason wins out in the end.

After little more then a few minutes, Nille climbs over into the passenger seat.

❁ “Alright, I’ve waited long enough. You said you’d tell me about what happened to your home.”

Ah, right. Guess this is a good time as any.

𝄢 “Right, and you’d tell about what happened here. So then, you want to go first or should I? Personally I’d rather do mine after, given it’s a very sore subject.”

❁ "A sore subject after seven years?"

𝄢 "Yes. It was VERY bad. And we were... very close to it's center."

Nille thinks for a bit. They seem hesitant.

❁ “...Promise you’ll tell if I do?”

𝄢 “Of course, Promise. You deserve to know, if you're traveling with us... For many reasons.”

You see in the front mirror that Nille is looking directly at you. You wonder if they can see the guilt on your face…

❁ “Fine.”

Nille recounts to you the story of the King’s curse. How someone used what you presume to be wishcraft to slowly freeze the entire country in time. How they were powerful enough to fight off anyone sent against them. How they commanded the very sadnesses created from the trauma their actions inflicted.

How everyone was living in fear, trying to cope in their own way with the fact there was no way to stop it… How no one told her it was coming before it was on their doorstep.

❁ “… When it came by.. I didn’t know if we’d ever wake up. I… When I pushed Bonnie out of the way of the curse, called out to them to run… I thought that would be the last thing I did. When I felt that curse creeping up my legs and into my body… It was so cold, and I couldn’t move, or breathe or… or...”

You notice her shaking. You get it. Watching everything fall apart, unsure of what to do. Not sure if you’ll make it… And this curse.. It must have been horrible. They remind you of Fa, back in the day...

𝄢 “You did well. And now both of you are okay. That’s the best anyone could have asked for.”

❁ “...Yeah.”

♪ “So that’s what that timecraft was when we first arrived. Most likely wishcraft.”

❁ “Wishcraft?”

♪ “Astravian art. Turns one’s desires into the tools to make it happen. One of the few known ways to actually alter something like time. But freezing a whole country…”

𝄡 “Best ask Fa and the others how that happened. That’s a lot of power for one person.”

♯ “Yeah, even us Bladeheart knights don’t get THAT strong!”

Nille looks confused by that comment, but doesn’t seem interested enough right now to press it.

❁ “Well, it’s now your turn. What happened to your home?”

Right. This isn’t going to be easy…

You do as your brother once did. Like Ti taught you both. Breath in. And breathe out. In. And out….

Alright. Where to start…

𝄢 “… Let me start this off with the roughest part… There are no other survivors. Everyone on that island is dead or worse.”

Nille goes stiff. Trying to process that.

𝄢 “I did warn you. It’s not good… But that’s not the only reason we’re hesitant to talk about it…”

Nille waits, then nods, curious for more… Very well. If their not deterred.

𝄢 “… I’ll work our way backwards. The basics of what occurred is that a highly infectious, mind and body altering plague swept the entire country. Those infected would mutate rapidly, then hunt down any living creature and consume them, converting the remains into more infected. The only reason we had any survivors is because there was a mind in charge of the plague that was trying to stop it. Had someone not sabotaged our bunker, we would have had a couple hundred survivors.”

❁ “Hold, on, step back, a plague that can think? And you said it was Holding back?!? What and how in the crab?!? Are any of you infected?!”

♪ “I assure you, none of us are infected. Even if the infection method wasn’t highly obvious and visible, none of the infected would even touch us, due to said mind in charge, though there were some close calls.”

It was horrible. Watching those creatures try and attack you, only for you to hear them rip themselves apart, begging and screaming to stop in Fa’s voice… They tried so hard...

𝄡 “We did double check everything on the ship, and ourselves, before we came ashore though. Just in case.”

❁ “...Fine. As long as you're sure.”

𝄢 “Yes. As for the thinking plague thing, It… It was… The source was someone I had saved... a long time ago. They had full conscious control of that plague originally, which kept them alive. But then someone ruined that. Lied to them, told them they could clear the plague entirely. We didn’t stop them in time…”

He knew the risks. Knew Fa couldn’t just wish away their symptoms but… He still had them try it, and now...

❁ “Wait, are you implying-”

𝄢 “That I made the plague in the first place? Yes. It was my responsibility to them not to let this happen, and I failed them.”

You feel your hands clench the wheel. If you had just been there, if you had persuaded your stupid brother to stop, if you had warned Fa of the dangers…

❁ “I guess you probs regret that now huh?”

The car jolts to a stop as you slam the brakes. Your face shifts into it’s most vicious expression as you turn to them. You will NOT take that.

𝄢 “No. I would do it a thousand more times. They deserved to live.”

❁ “I, look, I wasn’t- I mean...”

𝄢 “...Bonnie is your siblings name, yes? If it had been poor innocent Bonnie, would YOU have left them to die?”

Nille freezes, looking at you. Horrified.

𝄢 “If people told you to kill Bonnie with your own two hands, because it MIGHT save others, could you blinding do it?”

Nille can’t meet your gaze.

𝄡 "Song-"

𝄢 “I thought not. But let me tell YOU, Petronille. They were an INFANT. But because of what they were, All of Astravia was willing to leave them for DEAD. I was the ONLY one who even CARED to save them. I do NOT regret my choice. No matter what changes, I will ALWAYS stand by that decision.”

You look away from them. Trying to get back to normal.

𝄢 “... If anything, I regret not doing enough."

… Ugh. You start the car moving again. You don’t look at Nille. You get they weren’t there but you refuse to even humor that idea. And you will put it in the ground now. You would never be the kind of person who willingly let’s people die.

NONE of this changes how you feel for them. NONE of this makes you regret having saved them. Even though everything has changed, in the end, You will NOT let that change.

>>>

… The trip continues, in relative silence. Nobody has anything to say. To any of this. When you all make camp at nightfall, you do it in silence.

As you lie down in your tent… You just… Blind it all!

You start to cry. You failed them. You failed them! You failed Fa, You failed your Brother, You failed your parents, You failed the survivors!

You even failed the Empress Arcana! She told you to keep them safe! That was the price of that gift! That it would save Fa! And now! And now!!!

Now, everything is GONE. Fa doesn’t remember you, your home is gone, your brother is gone, and Fa. Fa’s been hurt. Hurt so badly just seeing you nearly brought them to tears. Stars, you just wish you could charge over there and comfort them now!

...You just hope Fa doesn’t remember that day. That the memories of that day are as lost as those of you all. Then at least it’ll be a mercy. One burden you can carry for them. Blind it, you really hope! But something in the back of your mind says otherwise…

Hah. You’re a terrible mother, aren’t you?

[darklinaforever]

Criston Cole defeated Daemon by attacking him from behind. I don't call that a success. Daemon is a real soldier who went into the field, literally fought a war for real, and won. Criston Cole has never been on the battlefield. Also, the post only concerned Aemond and only makes him think he is a match for Daemon.

Also, what does Daemyra have in there ? Is not the subject.

And aren't the antis tired of bringing out the same incoherent strangulation scene as a sort of magic joker ? And then sorry, but where the hell is Rhaenyra afraid of verbally challenging Daemon ? She does the complete opposite, even after that stupid scene that makes no sense...

For this post :

For this post :

For this post :

Ableist meaning : Discrimination or prejudice against individuals with disabilities. 

So again ; Wtf ?

And then the last one that I know about one of my most recent post :

Once again, what does that mean ? I'm not talking about Aemond and his internal debates. I'm talking about the drastic difference in treatment between him and Daemon on the fact that the writers constantly question his loyalty to the monarch through the other characters, while there is no real proof that his loyalty can be questioned but who nevertheless never ceases to be so, but Aemond on the other hand, the one who directly says a sentence that could call his loyalty into doubt, strangely the screenwriters will never talk about a possible doubt about his loyalty to the characters, even by Criston, the one who witnessed Aemond's jealousy. That's what I'm talking about. Not Aemond's internal emotions.

Honestly, the antis Daemon, Rhaenyra and Daemyra, have nothing better to do than go to posts that don't concern them to piss off ? What kind of mentality do they have ?

[purplehrts7]

Losing Control ( A Carlisle Cullen x BOC Story (Chapter 2: The Struggle Begins (Part 2 of 2)

[Carlisle's POV]

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the university campus in shadow. Carlisle's lecture had ended hours ago, but he lingered in the empty classroom, his thoughts a tangled web of memories and emotions. He should have felt satisfaction after a successful first day, but instead, a strange disquiet gnawed at him.

Zuri.

Her name whispered through his mind, as persistent as the hunger that simmered just beneath the surface. He had tried to ignore it, to push it aside, but she had taken root in his thoughts, a constant presence that he couldn't shake. And it wasn't just her blood that called to him—it was something more, something deeper.

*This isn't right.*

He exhaled slowly, gathered his things and left the classroom. The campus was quiet now, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. As Carlisle walked, he pulled out his phone, his fingers moving instinctively to call home. It had become a ritual of sorts—these nightly calls to check in with his family, to remind himself of who he was and what mattered.

The phone rang only once before Alice's bright voice answered, "Carlisle! I was just thinking about you."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Is that so? Or did you see me calling in one of your visions?"

"Both," she replied, her tone playful. "How's Georgia treating you?"

"Well enough," he answered, though his voice was laced with a tinge of doubt that didn't go unnoticed by Alice. "The seminar is going smoothly, and the students are eager to learn. It's... different, being away from home, but I'm managing."

Alice was silent for a moment, and he could almost picture her brow furrowing in concern. "You don't sound like yourself, Carlisle. Is something wrong?"

He hesitated, unsure how to answer. How could he explain what he was feeling when he himself barely understood it? The pull toward Zuri, the way her presence lingered in hid mind even now—it was all so unprecedented, so unsettling.

Before he could respond, Alice spoke again, her voice softer now. "Whatever it is, you know we're here for you. Esme misses you terribly, you know."

A pang of guilt shot through him at the mention of Esme. She had always been his anchor, his unwavering support through centuries of turmoil. But since meeting Zuri, he wasn't sure about telling her about Zuri or the strange and powerful connection he felt, even though the omission weighed heavily on him.

"I miss her too," Carlisle said quietly, though the words felt hollow. He did miss Esme—more than he could express—but there was an undeniable rift forming between them, one that would grow bigger as time passed, especially now with Zuri in the mix.

"You should call her," Alice suggested gently. "It might help."

"Yes, I will," he promised, though a part of him dreaded the conversation. "How is everyone else? How are things in Forks?"

"Oh, the usual," Alice said with a lightness that made him smile. "Edward and Bella have been homeschooling Renesmee, Jasper's been reading a lot lately, and Emmett's causing mischief wherever he can. And Rosalie... well, she's Rosalie."

Carlisle chuckled softly, the familiar banter easing some of the tension in his chest. "And you? How are you, Alice? Is there anything on the horizon I should be on the lookout for?"

"I'm fine. Everything is.. fine," she said, though there was a hint of something in her voice that made him wonder if she was holding something back. But before he could ask, she added, "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, Carlisle. We all need you."

The sincerity in her voice struck a chord within him, and he nodded, though she couldn't see it. "I will. Thank you, Alice."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before hanging up, and as he slipped the phone back into his pocket, he found himself standing outside his apartment building. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. He stood there for a moment, staring up at the darkened windows, trying to gather the courage to make the next call. Finally, he dialed Esme's number, the familiar sound of her voice greeting him after a few rings.

"Carlisle," she breathed, and the warmth in her voice was like a balm to his soul. "I'm so glad you called."

"I'm sorry I took so long. It's been a whirlwind of a day." He began, but she cut him off gently.

"It's okay," she said. "I know you're busy, and I understand. How are you holding up?"

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. How could he tell her about the turmoil inside of him, about the inexplicable connection he felt to another woman? He couldn't—*wouldn't*—hurt her like that. But the silence stretched on, and he knew she could sense his unease.

"Carlisle," she said softly, her voice tinged with worry. "Is everything all right?"

"I... I'm fine, Esme," he lied, forcing a smile that she couldn't see. "It's just... different here. Being away from you, from the family, it's harder than I expected."

There was a pause, and when she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I miss you too, Carlisle. More than you know."

The guilt gnawed at him, a heavyweight in his chest. "I'll be home soon," I promised, though the words felt uncertain. "This seminar won't last forever."

"I know," she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

He loved Esme with all his heart, and he would do anything to protect what they had. But the doubts lingered, shadowing his thoughts, and he knew that things between them were not as simple as they once were. At least he could pretend until he could no longer. They talked a little longer, exchanging stories and updates, but the conversation felt strained, the unspoken tension hanging between them.

When they finally said their goodbyes, Carlisle felt more alone than ever, the quiet of the night pressing in around him. As he made his way up to his apartment, the weight of the day settled heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't deny that things were changing, that his feelings for Zuri—however inexplicable—were complicating everything. But he didn't know how to stop it, how to return to the life he had known before. And so, he was left with nothing but questions, doubts, and the faintest hint of hope that somehow, he would find his way through the darkness.

[destinyc1020]

can we even put tom and timothee in the same category though, I feel like there very different and I feel timothee has now found the perfect balance which I feel tom really hasnt

Tom can bring people to theatres and insanely popular like r+j sold out within two hours and of course spiderman but outside of spiderman the quality of the projects are more miss than they are hit and really struggles with finding good scripts or working with directors. Timothee while a vastly different journey and its not until recently he found blockbuster success hes no doubt a draw while simulataneoulsy still working on quality projects and working with the best directors and also having found a ton of success in independent film world even something like bones and all while finacially poor I would say the genre is more to blame at least it was a good movie, with great performances and critically successful whereas cherry and chaos walking were bombs but horrendously awful films.

I feel timmy has found the perfect balance and knows how to pick roles that suit him whereas tom is financially successful but a little iffy if his name attracts the best directors or stars tbh.

Though I do think his move to theatre is great perfect for him especially a well known play like r+j and jamie llyod and a opportunity tp hone your craft.

Ohhhh....here we go yet again....

*Checks date on Calendar*

Yup.... Every 10 days, I swear....we get SOME variation of the usual "Worried about Tom's Career" ask.

🤦🏾‍♀️

Anon, I think you and other fans who constantly worry about Tom's career need to realize that actors all have different journeys in the industry. Every actor doesn't have to do EXACTLY what their acting peer is doing, nor do they have to have the same exact path?? 🥴

whereas cherry and chaos walking were bombs but horrendously awful films.

HOLD UP..... Now, I'll give you "Chaos Walking" (which...in Tom's defense, was supposed to be released YEARS before it actually came out, and he signed on to that project early in his career), BUT "Cherry"?? 🥴 I don't care what anyone says, "Cherry" was NOT an "horrendously awful" film. Was it maybe not your cup of tea? Okay... sure. Was the narration throughout the film unnecessary? Okay....yes. But let's get REAL here. Both Tom and Ciara acted their butts off in that film. I feel like Tom really transformed himself in that film, and played a drug addict extremely WELL. That was the first film where I was like: "Geez man...you're an AWESOME actor!" That car scene!?? Like, come on. That was peak acting right there.

I feel timmy has found the perfect balance and knows how to pick roles that suit him whereas tom is financially successful but a little iffy if his name attracts the best directors or stars tbh.

Tom has worked with awesome directors. He's about to work with Paul King on the FA biopic, JUST like Timmy worked with him on "Wonka". Tom has also worked with Akiva Goldsman on TCR who's also famously known for films such as "A Beautiful Mind", "The Da Vinci Code", "A Time to Kill".....all AWESOME films.

How come it is, when Timmy does something, it's amazing, but when Tom does the very same thing, it's: "Idk...kinda iffy!" 🤔

Some of you all are letting Film Twitter run your minds instead of thinking for yourselves.

Have I liked EVERY single project that Tom has chosen to do? No... Not necessarily.... But I would put Tom's diverse filmography over Timothee's at the current moment, because Tom has at least shown me that he can play a wide range of characters and roles. He's gone from Arvin in TDATT, to Ian Lightfoot in "Onward".

Timmy is a decent actor (don't get me wrong!), and he's done great work over the years... But Tom has done more DIVERSE work imo. Timmy is just now starting to branch out and do blockbusters, children's films, etc (things that Tom has already been doing for years).... Just saying! 🤷🏾‍♀️

Actors don't have to follow one set path. They can go in and out from whatever filming roles they wish. Tom doesn't have to follow the same path as Timmy or any other actor out here. Most actors just focus on their OWN work, and admire the work of others that they personally appreciate. But it's not some competition.

I definitely think Timmy getting nominated for an Oscar at such a young age definitely put his name on the map for a lot of directors and such. Just being nominated for massive awards helps a LOT. You don't even have to win.

One day, Tom will be accepting an award for "Best Actor", and he will have all of Film Twitter eating their words.

I personally can't wait for that day lol 😊

[greymarvelskaikru]

LIGHT AND DARKNESS- a Narnia story

hey guys im thinking of writing a narnia fic and this is the prologue: As the tenth century of the Helios dynasty came to a close, the health of the old king, Sol, was failing. In those days, House Helios stood at the height of its strength, with seven heirs of the sun and moon, commanders of the deep magic under its yoke. No power in the universe could stand against it.

King Sol had reigned over nearly 173 years of peace and prosperity, as did the rulers before him. Under his rule, the king had sires two daughters, twins. Jadis was considered to be his heir, as had been the ruler since the creation of Solaria. But rumours and premonitions about Jadis’ character left his succession in doubt. So, in the year 976, the old king called a great council to choose an heir. Over a hundred lords made their journey to the castle of Dawn. Five succession claims were heard, but only two were truly considered. Princess Jadis Helios, the eldest of the kings twin daughters, who called to claim her rightful place, And her younger sister, princess Stella Helios, considered by many to be the purest of heart.

From the moment they took their first breaths, Stella and Jadis had mirrored the dualities of the universe. Jadis, held within her the void between the stars, the shadows the sun cast, the hunger of the abyss. Her magic was woven with the silent power of the eclipse, her heart was carved from the obsidian of the cosmos. She was the child of winter. Stella, in contrast, was infused with golden sunlight, she radiated warmth and joy, a beacon of light and harmony. She was the dawn after a long night, the daughter of summer.

The decision of the council was read as followed: “It is declared by all lords paramount and lords vassal of the kingdom of Solaria that her royal highness Stella Helios be made Princess of Dawn!”

Jadis, the rightful heir, would not inherit her father’s throne. The lords instead chose Princess Stella.

Over the past years, Jadis had become obsessed with her throne, her heirship, and as the sisters aged, that hunger within her became insatiable. She had turned to a power capable of more destruction than the deep magic: blood magic.

And what the lords paramount and lords vassal did not account for in their decision, was Jadis’ temperament and new grown power.

“This is outrageous. It is not fair. I am the rightful heir!” The chatter in the room silenced, all eyes glued to the child of winter, the witch. “I will not endure this injustice!” The king and queen tried to intervene, as they had tried to do before. Their interruption came too late- Jadis’ hands already held an obsidian shadow in them, siphoning all magic near her.

The crowd dispersed, screams and curses flying around the room, as no one wished to be the princess’ next target. But instead of turning to the mass, Jadis spun to her own family, ready to take her shot. Her eyes held a darkness that had not been seen by the public before.

For Princess Stella, it all happened to fast. The ground had started shaking, and when she blinked, her parents were suddenly forced to kneel by black magic. Their once radiant forms had started to flicker, dimming with every breath. “You did this to yourself.” Their daughter whispered, ready to take their lives. “Jadis, stop!” Stella’s voice cracked with horror at the sight in front of her. “What have you done?” Jadis turned slowly to her sister, the darkness around her growing. Her lips only curled into a smile. “What had to be done.”

“A curse! A curse on Sol and Luna, the monstrous.” In their final moments, her parents clung to each other. “I will banish you to the sky you so wished to join. Unfortunately, the sun and moon will never touch again.” With a final whisper of dark incantations, her parents collapsed, their bodies fading into mere shadows as their celestial essence was torn from their bodies, swirling into the starless void that Jadis had summoned. Their cries echoed through the heavens, fading into silence. And as if the light had gone off, the night sky appeared through the windows, only this time, the sun and moon were not together.

Stella fell to her knees, overwhelmed with emotions she’d never felt before. She could not breathe. “You killed them… You killed them!” Jadis walked to her sister, placing her ice cold hand beneath her sister’s chin, tilting her face, forcing her sister to look at the monster she’d made her. “They stood in my way. One day you will understand why. Do not fight me, and you will be left with a different fate, by my side. You do not have to fear me, dear sister.”

Stella’s body trembled as rage, grief and heartbreak warred within her. “I would rather die than stand beside you. You are no sister of mine, you are a demon.” For the first time since the ordeal, Jadis’ expression flickered, as if sadness passed through her icy glaze. It disappeared before it could be noticed. “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?” She whispered coldly “So be it.”

With all the strength the young princess had ever gathered, she transformed, and unleashed her magic, summoning her powers from the lights of Solaria. A brightness burst from her core, and formed in her hands, flickering sparks left and right. Jadis was forced one step back. The power of light and darkness clashed violently, filling the palace with a blinding explosion. Both sisters were thrown into a corner, Jadis recovering one second faster than Stella made the difference.

The ground began shaking, and the ceiling came crashing down. The princesses continued their fight, dodging and attacking one another. But it was written in the stars that this battle was not Stella’s to win. Jadis was stronger, fuelled by the souls she had just taken.

And while Solaria destructed under the hands of the sisters, a loud roar was heard. That night was the last sighting of the crown princess, for she would not appear for a long time.

Had it not been for Aslan’s intervention, Stella would have been destructed along Solaria that night. The lion had cast Stella from her realm as a desperate act of salvation. Instead, he sent her to the human world, where he knew paths would cross, and he’d see her again to keep her safe. In doing so, he severed her connection to light to keep her safe. And so, Stella fell, crashing through time and space, her essence and soul shattering like glass.

She awoke in a train, lost and afraid. She had nothing left, no family, no home. Though she could not recall what she had lost; she missed Jadis, as much as the sun would now miss the moon.  

King Sol had called the great council that dawn to prevent a war being fought over his succession. For he knew the cold truth: the only thing that could tear down the heavens and the house of the rising sun, was itself.

[unitedbydevils]

A dressing room leakier than Old Trafford's roof: why fans must ignore the nonsense

Another day of drama for Manchester United. Another day of ridiculous media coverage because guess which club has the biggest news pull.. that's right, it's the (temporarily not so) mighty reds.

Unity is needed to fix our poor form, but I think an inquisition is needed to root out the leakers because it's boring. Years of shit being passed out from Carrington like it's a paper note in a classroom. Grow up.

Does Erik Ten Hag have favourites? Perhaps. Does this mean you should down tools? Absolutely not. The attitude here forgets several things:

You are an asset in of yourself. If you give up, other teams notice. This will lessen your value for a sale.

It also reduces your personal growth as a player. 6 months of not trying might have been the period where you level up your skill set and playstyle.

Football is a game of small margins. Anything less than your best could be the difference between a salvaged point and a painful defeat.

The rumoured leakers are obvious: Sancho, Maguire, McTominay, and maybe Donny Van de Beek (I doubt this last one). Henderson was also rumoured to be leaking before, as was Eric Bailly. Disgruntled players are the obvious suspects, and normally it's correct.

Roy Keane, seen here on Sky Sports, has the right take: players are failing to take responsibility for their poor performances, and are giving up too easily. Could ETH make better subs or quicker tactical changes? Sure. But it's his second season, having finished 3rd, won the League Cup, and reached the FA Cup final, all with Weghorst up front for crying out loud. Give the man a chance, believe in his plans. We can't keep cycling through managers. United will just be a graveyard for talent and a money pit.

The latest 'leak' or drama is about David De Gea's departure. People have short memories. He was a good goalkeeper, and kept United alive for many shitty seasons, but his last few years saw his shot stopping - the star attribute - fall off in terms of stats and success. This is an issue. Onana is a solid replacement for the keeping metrics, but with great feet to help play out from the back.

Our current form isn't derived from Onana playing badly. It's derived from an injured Varane showing the gulf of skill between him and Lindelof, and how important Varane is to getting the best out of Lissandro Martinez. Hence the need for Kim Min Jae in the summer.

Beyond that, Eriksen starting games at 31 with a heart condition. What the fuck. Casemiro looks overweight and slow and needs to be eased in to the season. Last year he played more games in the season than he EVER did at Madrid. Ever. They're playing though because Mount, Amrabat, Mainoo are all injured. All three would be playing if they were fit. They might all feature tomorrow versus Burnley, and they'll make a huge difference going forward.

The media is to blame as much as the players though. The Daily Mail published an article about Onana dropping his car keys. How is that journalism? The same goes for Samuel Luckhurst, seen above. There's a lot of stirring the pot to cause drama, to generate clicks.

The reality is that people shouldn't be taking the Manchester Evening News (M.E.N) seriously because they're clickbait these days. The death of local/regional news; clamouring for clicks and views rather than offering actual substance and building loyalty and respect.

United are in a rough spot, and perhaps this poor start means we fail to make the top 4 this season, but if - in the grand scheme of things - Ten Hag gets United playing the way he wants to then so be it. I want us fixed, and I'm willing to back this manager to get it done. If everyone was pulling the same way, trying, and it just wasn't working then fair dos, Erik might not be the man, but no. He hasn't had his preferred first XI. He hasn't had players properly trying. He's had issues with leaks, player insubordination, scandals off the field, and the takeover farse.

There are better managers, but I guarantee they cannot be arsed with United and the Glazers. Lets get behind Ten Hag, back his authority, lose the dregs and crybabies, and see what we can achieve with a committed squad of battlers and ballers. Up the reds.

[findasongblog]

Find A Song confronting the lies we tell ourselves in the pursuit of success

Tom Emlyn - It Doesn't Bother Me

“This song is from the mind of an unreliable narrator, trying to convince himself of his own aloofness as much as he is the listener. It paints a nightmare picture of self-doubt, anxiety, dead-end jobs, bad decisions, time running out. Schizophrenic images of audible lights in the engine yard. Losing your real self in the pursuit of money, recognition, anything. The masks we wear to convince ourselves and others of our resilience.” “Honky-tonk Bob, mentioned in the lyrics, was a real person I met who played around the open mic nights of North Wales. He used to play amateurish piano, with his foot tapping a rudimentary beat on a hi hat with some kind of stuffed animal attached to it. The last I heard of him, he'd joined the army. A lost and misguided soul. This song tries to use sarcasm and absurdity to overcome uncertainty and dread, even if that involves a certain amount of self-deception. The keyboards and bass synth on the track were all done in the moment and improvised in one take.”

Added to FAS Spotify playlist indie folk/country/americana.

via Musosoup

[fan-of-mulligan]

FOM BLOG: GILLINGHAM SUPPORTERS BLOG SEASON 2023 / 2024 SEASON - FINAL PART

At The Start Of The Season, For The First Supporters Blog, I Asked Gillingham Supporters for there thoughts and opinions on Gillingham’s Summer Signings, Performances and results in pre-season friendlies, Gillingham keeping the core of the squad together from The 2022 / 2023 Season heading into The 2023 / 2024 Season, and the score prediction for Stockport County V Gillingham on the opening day of the season, And the link to that blog is here - LINK - https://fan-of-mulligan.tumblr.com/post/724767191346642945/fom-blog-gillingham-supporters-blog-season and in the second Gillingham Supporters Blog LINK IS HERE - https://fan-of-mulligan.tumblr.com/post/734461185061224448/fom-blog-gillingham-supporters-blog-season-2023 - I asked supporters for there thoughts and opinions on Gillingham appointing Stephen Clemence As Head Coach, FA Cup Replays and the score prediction for Gillingham V Salford City, and in the most recent supporters blog - LINK IS HERE - https://fan-of-mulligan.tumblr.com/post/745696927011700736/fom-blog-gillingham-supporters-blog-season-2023 - I asked supporters for there thoughts and opinions on Gillingham’s Player Recruitment In The January Transfer Window, Gillingham Singing - The Last Waltz - before home matches, And Can Gillingham Qualify For The Playoff Position’s In League Two ???

This Blog Is A Follow Up Blog and the final supporters blog of The 2023 / 2024 season, as we look back on a season which promised so much, but unfortunately, Gillingham missed out on reaching the playoffs, but it is good to look at all four supporters blogs and make the comparison’s between different supporters different answers to questions at various points throughout the season, and see how supporters opinions have changed on various topics from the start of the season to the end of the season.

Answering these questions are the following Gillingham Supporters,,,,, Paul, Mark, Colin, Rob, Ben, Cian, Gillingham Legends - I want to thank everyone who has participated in the latest Gillingham Supporters Blog, as well as thank those who participated in The Gillingham Supporters Blogs throughout this season and in the previous seasons, It is because of the involvement of everyone who has participated in the previous blogs which have made these blogs so successful, so once again, thank you, Now on to the questions and answers……..

1. ON MONDAY THE 29TH OF APRIL 2024, GILLINGHAM MADE THE DECISION TO SACK HEAD COACH STEPHEN CLEMENCE AS GILLINGHAM FINISHED 12TH IN LEAGUE TWO, SIX POINTS OFF THE PLAYOFFS WITH CRAWLEY TOWN SECURING THE FINAL PLAYOFF POSITION ON SEVENTY POINTS, DO YOU THINK THE DECISION TO SACK STEPHEN CLEMENCE WAS THE CORRECT DECISION, OR, DO YOU THINK STEPHEN CLEMENCE SHOULD HAVE BEEN GIVEN MORE TIME AND AN OPPORTUNITY TO ASSEMBLE HIS OWN SQUAD OF PLAYERS DURING THE SUMMER TRANSFER WINDOW ???

Paul -  I was amazed to see SC sacked as I thought he would be given the chance to bring in better strikers and search had already started on a targeted list to which I assume he agreed, I preferred the better possession under him and to me the reason we didn’t make the play offs were the defeats at Harrogate and Bradford over Easter, Had we got the play offs I think we could have gone up, I am glad he and Robbie have a new job at a competitors now.

Mark - The only thing that was 100% right was to make a decision and make it quickly, If there was doubt that he was the right man for next season then make a change, if not back him 100%. We've made the decision now time will tell if it was the right one. Personally I'm glad we made the change. Too many draws under Clemence and I think we needed someone with league 2 experience. 

Colin - I think Clemence was a bit unlucky having had to make the best of Neil Harris’s squad and then losing Nichols and Bonne in the January window without getting usable replacements. The stats showed that he managed to get the squad playing in a different style, further down the pitch and with more possession. It’s a results business and we still weren’t scoring goals. The collapse at Harrogate was the tipping point. 

Rob - I still think it was a harsh decision but the stats did tell a story. Plenty of times last season it wasn't clear what identity or style of play we were trying, and just before summer is an ideal time to get a replacement.

Ben - I think if he was given the chance to assemble his own team capable of playing the way he wants, Clemence would’ve excelled, you could see what he was trying to do in his first few games but the players we had were just not up to playing that way, so he reverted back to playing the way which suited the players more, which I think was his biggest mistake, he should’ve stuck to his beliefs and philosophy.

Cian - I think that the decision to sack Clemence was a safe decision – we proved last season that getting rid of a manager mid-season is not a viable option for teams chasing promotion. Bonner was recruited quickly, and I think that plays a role in ensuring the decision has been accepted. In all honesty I was not completely sold on Clemence and am interested to see how he fairs at Barrow. I hope he does a decent job and wish him well.

Gillingham Legends - I was very surprised with the decision given that Brad had said not long before that Clemence would be in charge for the new season. I felt it was a little harsh as he hadn't been there long. However, performances and results saw little improvement (if any) from NH. 

2. WHAT DO YOU THINK WERE GILLINGHAM’S BEST PERFORMANCES / BEST RESULTS UNDER STEPHEN CLEMENCE’S SHORT TENURE AS GILLINGHAM HEAD COACH, AND ALSO, WHICH MATCHES DO YOU THINK WERE THE WORST PERFORMANCES / WORST RESULTS ???

Paul - The worse for me was against Harrogate over Easter and the best was against Doncaster end of the season. 

Mark - I didn't see either but would assume notts county away was the best and Harrogate away the worse. Of the games I saw the second half against Swindon was the best we played. 

Colin - The 3-1 win at Meadow Lane made for a good overnighter. The defeat at Harrogate was abysmal. 

Rob - I can't think to any specifics, but the home performances were not up to scratch at all.

Ben - In terms of best results, Charlton in the FA Cup, Notts County away and Wrexham at home spring to mind, the worst probably has to be Harrogate away.

Cian - Living in Wales for university I didn’t manage to see us as a Clemence side in the flesh – I managed 6 away games, including Hereford at the start of his tenure as well as 3 home games in the Christmas period and in all honesty can only think of Notts County as an enjoyable experience watching his side. For the games I saw live both Tranmere and Newport stand out as exceptionally dreadful.  

Gillingham Legends - The Wrexham win was probably our best result. We had great performances away to Salford and Notts County. At home the wins against Charlton and Barrow also stand out. But there wasn't enough consistency between these matches. The 5-1 defeat to Harrogate was just woeful. 

3. ON THE 7TH MAY 2024, GILLINGHAM APPOINTED MARK BONNER AS FIRST TEAM MANAGER, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON MARK BONNER BEING APPOINTED AS GILLINGHAM MANAGER, AND YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE SHORT TIME FRAME BETWEEN THE SACKING OF STEPHEN CLEMENCE, AND THE HIRING OF MARK BONNER DURING THE MANAGERIAL PROCESS ???

Paul - The appointment of Mark was probably based in his success with Cambridge, but although he talks well, I am not convinced he will do any better than Steve or Neil ( both of whom were top professional footballers ) We moaned about Steve being a coach and not a manager then we employ a guy who has never played professionally but been a coach for many years, albeit briefly as a manager at Cambridge.

Mark - Short time frame shows it was planned, which is exactly how it should be. Bonner has experience at this level and I think that will be important. 

Colin - Bonner seems to be from a similar mould to Clemence but is a bit more experienced having managed Cambridge United  to promotion. He seems to have been popular with the Cambridge fans. Whether he is the right man for the job time will tell but he is getting the backing that Clemence didn’t get.

Rob - I think it's good. We needed to make a quick, but sensible, decision and we did. Bonner has experience of getting promoted from this level and I look forward to seeing his team play

Ben - I like the profile of managers we are currently going for, younger managers with a point to prove, I think it also helps with being able to relate to players especially the younger ones. He comes across well so far, with him being given the chance to have a full pre season and assemble his own squad, I think he’ll do well for us, automatic promotion could be a possibility.

Cian - Bonner is a manager who has tasted success at this level before as well as being a young manager – his time at Cambridge was exceptional and he performed well on the budget he had available. It was clear that the club weren’t messing around with the turnaround and can only applaud the appointment – he seems charismatic and from the interviews i’ve seen of him highly enthusiastic about us as a club and a project.

Gillingham Legends - I was quite pleased, he had a decent record at Cambridge and knows the lower leagues probably a lot better than both Harris and Clemence. It was good to get someone else in asap and not waste any time.

4. AND HOW DOES MARK BONNER MAKE GILLINGHAM A MUCH BETTER SIDE FOR THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON ???

Paul - He just use tactics to impress the fans and help the team score more goals to cheer, How he does it I have no idea.

Mark - Pace and Goals. Our early transfer business shows we are focussed on the goals part, still think we need more pace but time for that. 

Colin - Bonner is going to have the benefit of a lot of new players who look to be upgrades on what we had before particularly in terms of attacking capability. It would be disappointing if he couldn’t improve on last season. How much better depends on the rest of the window and Bonner’s own capabilities.

Rob - I think he's more experienced, while still being a younger coach that's learning the game.

Ben - Pace, mobility and width in the forward areas was the main thing we lacked last year, he’s already addressed that with the signings of Nevitt, Rowe and Nolan, selling Hawkins should be a priority in terms of outgoings too, I’ve seen Sunday league strikers move more and quicker than him.

Cian - Quite simply we need to score goals! Which has clearly been a priority in the recruitment we’ve already achieved.

Gillingham Legends - Obviously we need to score more goals, which has been a huge problem for 3 seasons now. We need to be more consistent and dominate matches more, particularly at home.

5. ON MAY 15TH, GILLINGHAM ANNOUNCED THE RELEASE / RETAIN LIST WITH SHAUN WILLIAMS, MACAULEY BONNE, IKE ORJI, MATTY MACARTHUR, RONALD SITHOLE, JOSH CHAMBERS, KIERON AGBEBI AND NATHAN HARVEY ALL GETTING RELEASED, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE EIGHT PLAYERS LEAVING GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB ??? ANY PLAYERS ON THIS LIST WHO YOU WOULD HAVE KEPT ON FOR NEXT SEASON, OR, WERE YOU NOT SURPRISED WITH ALL EIGHT PLAYERS MENTIONED BEING RELEASED ???

Paul - I was surprised that so many released but I suspect we no longer have a B team and just going to have reserves now, So basically no space for the youngsters and I hope they quickly get professional status elsewhere

Mark - No great surprises really. It was a shame that some of the youngsters never get a chance but if they aren't closer to first XV then no point in retaining them. Hopefully they will go on and build their careers somewhere else. No surprises the more senior players. 

Colin - I was surprised that Orji and MacArthur didn’t get more time to develop. I suppose once the B Team got cut out there wasn’t an obvious pathway for them. The other departures were expected.

Rob - I'm not surprised about any of them leaving, if I'm honest. I guess I would have expected Chambers or Orji to stay on given we resigned Josh a few summers ago and signed Ike from Chatham. Clearly a different approach to our development squad next year.

Ben - Not really surprised about any of them except Ike Orji, who looked like he had a bit about him.

Cian - The retained list wasn’t very surprising in all honesty – maybe there could be arguments made regarding some younger players and potentially keeping them but I certainly haven’t lost any sleep worrying about them.

Gillingham Legends - Not surprised by any of them. A couple of the youngsters I thought may have stayed but don't know enough about them to pass judgement. I still feel Bonne is a good player and could come good at this level but due to his probable high wages and under achievement, not surprised to see him go.

6. GLENN MORRIS AND DOM JEFFERIES WERE BOTH OFFERED NEW CONTRACTS BY GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB, AND GLENN MORRIS HAS SIGNED A ONE YEAR CONTRACT EXTENSION WITH GILLINGHAM, HOWEVER, WE ARE UNCLEAR ON DOM JEFFERIES FUTURE AT GILLINGHAM, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON GLENN MORRIS SIGNING A ONE YEAR CONTRACT EXTENSION ??? - AND DO YOU THINK DOM JEFFERIES WILL SIGN A NEW CONTRACT AT GILLINGHAM, OR, SIGN FOR ANOTHER FOOTBALL CLUB ???

Paul - I think it’s a good decision keeping Glenn as a back up keeper and potential goal-keeper coach

Mark - Glenn Morris is a decent backup keeper, we need to focus on transfers up front so no surprise we took the option to extend his stay. I'd like to see DJ stay but suspect he'll move on. Just hope he doesn't drag it out like others have. Stay or leave but be quick about it. 

Colin - Glenn is getting on a bit but did OK last season. Bringing in a new keeper isn’t a priority. Lack of goals was the problem. Jefferies may get a better offer and if so probably from a League One club in which case he will be gone.

Rob - Jefferies was always going to get a deal so that we could claim a fee if he left. I hope he does stay, but I can imagine him joining a League 1 side. Morris I thought might be going, but again, he's a solid keeper and we can focus on that area next year.

Ben - Glenn Morris being offered a new deal surprised me given his age, I would’ve preferred for us to go for a new keeper as number one, I’m not a huge fan of Turner either. I think we need to keep hold of Jefferies as he brings energy to the team that most don’t, he’ll also look way better in a possession oriented team.

Cian - Glenn is a model professional and a great goalkeeper who will only help us this season – he is a reliable figure to have in the camp and will only help in Jake Turner’s development. I don’t think DJ will end up staying sadly – however he’s a quality player and we would be a better side with him in it and therefore i’m hanging onto hopes of him staying.

Gillingham Legends - Was actually surprised that we offered Morris a deal as thought we may have gone for a younger understudy and thought Morris would either want to play or revenge retire. I'll be very surprised if Jefferies signs, think they'll be interest at a higher level. 

7. SCOTT MALONE, GEORGE LAPSLIE, ASHLEY NADESAN AND OLI HAWKINS HAVE ALL BEEN MADE AVAILABLE FOR TRANSFER AND DEEMED SURPLUS TO REQUIREMENTS, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON SCOTT MALONE, GEORGE LAPSLIE, ASHLEY NADESAN AND OLI HAWKINS BEING MADE AVAILABLE FOR TRANSFER ??? - AND DO YOU THINK ANY OF THE FOUR PLAYERS LISTED SHOULD STILL REMAIN AT GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB FOR THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON ???

Paul - I liked all the players but clearly they are not in the future plans either through cost or other reasons, We were very excited when Scott Malone signed and under Neil he was very good, but seemed to slip under Steve for some reason. 

Mark - Not that surprised. Hawkins is to immobile and Andrews will have that role next season. Lapslie really under performed, he should be class at this level. Maybe Bonner could make him click but I'm sure he'll get offers elsewhere. Nads looked poor and disinterested so time from him to go. Malone had his moments but I think Clark is decent at LB. 

Colin - Nadesan has lost confidence and gone completely off the boil. Lapslie has been a big disappointment. Hawkins looked like a Centre Back being asked to play up top. Malone was an old mate of Harris and is past his sell by date. Whether they move in will depend on whether someone else will match their salaries or whether we will pay off all or part of their contracts.

Rob - Malone hasn't been the same since Harris left. Lapslie is a quality player but it really hasn't clicked for him at all at Gills. Nadesan isn't good enough and Hawkins is too immobile.

Ben - I agree with all of them being listed, Malone is probably on a decent wage, Lapslie hasn’t done enough to convince me he’s worth keeping, Nadesan probably doesn’t have enough confidence to be prolific for an entire season and Hawkins is probably the worst of the lot of them.

Cian - I feel that Malone and Nadders were always going to be available and hope they are able to find respective moves for their own careers. It’s a shame with Malone as during the Harris period of the season he was a fan favourite and an asset – he certainly can play at the level but feel like he would benefit from a move away – it’s a shame its ended how it has.

Nadders failed to impress many and won’t be missed – I’m sure he’s a sound bloke but just not a footballer I particularly want to watch in a Gillingham Shirt. Lapslie and Hawkins are two players that I feel deserve the respect and well wishes of Gills fans – Hawkins has been upgraded on with the addition of Andrews in January – they won't work as a duo as funny as it might have been to play the two as a partnership. Lapslie is someone who has not lived up to the expectations many had of him – if he doesn’t get a move, I’m sure he will be able to provide depth and fight for a place in Bonner’s team.

Gillingham Legends - As good as he is, Malone is probably our highest earner and good business to try and get rid of him if he's unlikely to play that much. Lapslie has been very underwhelming since arriving with a big reputation. Too many times he's not involved in games and agree to move him on. Nadesan has also been largely ineffectual and felt we should've got rid of him ahead of Bonne and Nichols in January. Another who has very little impact on games. I like Hawkins and think he has generally done a good job for us. But I think Andrews is a younger, more mobile version so can see why it would be time to sell Hawkins.

8. JOSH WALKER, CONNOR MAHONEY AND JORGE HURTADO HAVE ALL LEFT GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB AT THE END OF THERE LOAN SPELLS, CAN YOU SEE ANY OF THESE THREE PLAYERS COMING BACK TO GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB FOR THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON EITHER ON LOAN, OR, ON A PERMANENT BASIS ???

Paul - Only Jorge Hurtado as a loan

Mark - Walker did nothing to suggest he should return. Mahoney was decent but not consistent enough and I think the young family in the North will keep him up there. As we've signed two wide players already I can't see spending out on him as well. I would love Hurtado back - he gets people off their seats with his pace and running at players. Thats a possibility I think. 

Colin - Josh Walker looked totally lost during his few appearances and will probably go back to the National League. Mahoney will probably stay up North. I think Hurtado might return as he was seen around Priestfield after being injured.

Rob - We might sign Mahoney, although his wage demands will need to drop and we clearly haven't made it a priority. Hurtado could come back on loan, but again, it's difficult to judge him on his limited appearances. Sure he was exciting, but end product may be in question for him. Walker wasn't good enough.

Ben - Personally don’t see any of them coming back, Walker was anonymous, Mahoney will probably be asking for decent wages and can’t see Watford risking sending Hurtado back to L2 to get smashed up again.

Cian - Walker was a failure of a loan, and I don’t think anybody will be wanting him to rejoin.  Mahoney is undoubtedly a good player at the level but can't see a return after our recruitment but would provide good quality to our team. I am desperate to see Jorge in a Gill's shirt again. The boy captured the imagination of the whole fanbase and is a cult hero. He’s the type of player that excites and I would love to see him again.

Gillingham Legends - Would've loved to have gotten Mahoney permanently but he's just signed for Barrow. I thought he was a class player, technically our best player last season and the most dangerous. Thought he'd play at higher level than league two to be honest. Hurtado was a breath of fresh air, very exciting and just what we needed until his unfortunate injury after just 3 subs appearances. He frightened the life out of defences and got the crowd off their seats so would love to get him back on loan if we can. Walker was a huge disappointment and inferior to Bonne or Nichols. One that didn't work out.

9. THREE YOUNG PLAYERS IN TAITE HOLTAM, STAN SKIPPER AND JOSH BAYLISS HAVE ALL SIGNED THERE FIRST PROFESSIONAL CONTRACTS AT GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS ANNOUNCEMENT ???

Paul - I think those three will do well

Mark - I know nothing about them. Will they get a chance, I doubt it and suspect they will be released at the end of their contracts. 

Colin - I wish them the best of luck. We don’t have a great record in bringing through players from the youth ranks.

Rob - Fine. Never seen any of them play so can't comment either way.

Ben - Hopefully they can all make an impact in the first team, I wonder if Bayliss’ family being one of our main sponsors had anything to do with him getting a contract though

Cian - I can't pretend to be incredibly knowledgeable regarding these three lads. I'm sure all three will undoubtedly benefit from the experience of being around the first team and hope all can get good loan moves to help their progression.

Gillingham Legends - Always good to see young players come through. Whether they'll get near to the first team is another question. It's been a while since anyone did with any sort of impact. Good luck to them though.

10. SKY SPORTS HAVE ANNOUNCED A NEW TV DEAL FOR THE FOOTBALL LEAGUE FOR THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON, AND WHILST GILLINGHAM AND OTHER FOOTBALL LEAGUE CLUBS GAIN FINANCIALLY FROM THIS NEW TV DEAL, THE DRAWBACK TO THIS DEAL WILL BE FEWER SATURDAY 3PM KICK OFF TIMES, BECAUSE MORE MATCHES WILL BE TELEVISED AND THE 3PM BLACKOUT WILL REMAIN INTACT, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON THE LIKELIHOOD OF FEWER 3PM KICK OFF TIMES FOR GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB THROUGHOUT THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON ???

Paul - The kick off times won’t affect me as I am retired and free but it’s a pain for others and for away matches

Mark - I live local so not to fussed about a few early / late KOs if I am honest. A pain for those who have to travel though. 

Colin - As someone who goes to most games home and away it’s not great. For me an away-day consists of a few beers pre match in some decent pubs and the off to the match for 3pm. That won’t be possible with Noon kick offs and Friday nights. I am sure it will suit the TV fans and hopefully the clubs but for many of us who go to away games it’s a bit of a kick in the teeth from the EFL.

Rob - As someone who travels a distance to get to the games, having home games moved about will be very annoying indeed. That said, if I can watch some away games, then that's a bonus

Ben - I think every game on a Saturday should be a 3PM kickoff, the TV blackout rule is such an outdated and unnecessary rule.

Cian - My understanding of the deal is that it won't drastically affect the number of games played at times other than the Blackout – with Tuesday night games and EFL trophy counting? I hope that games that are moved are the more local ones we have, and we don’t have trips to sides like Barrow and Carlisle at midday.

Gillingham Legends - It's the way football is going unfortunately. You can't beat a 3pm kick off, I'm very nostalgic and that is what is should be in my mind, so not happy about that. But TV and money dictates and if the lower league clubs can finally benefit then that's a good thing.

11. ON THE FINAL DAY OF THE 2023 / 2024 SEASON, GILLINGHAM DREW 2-2 AGAINST DONCASTER ROVERS, BUT THIS MATCH WAS ALSO MAX EHMER’S 400TH APPEARANCE IN A GILLINGHAM SHIRT, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON MAX EHMER MAKING 400 APPEARANCES FOR GILLINGHAM FOOTBALL CLUB ???

Paul - Max is a strong defender and pleased he is still with us, We should have won that game as well and showed our talent against the then in form Doncaster

Mark - 400 is a great effort and well done Max. He's not my favourite player and 100% should not be captain. A decent enough CB at this level but not captain, he's not vocal enough. 

Colin - Max has obviously been good enough to earn those 400 starts. I was a bit surprised we took him back after he left us for the Gas and didn’t exactly impress over there. 

Rob - Max has been a great servant to the club and comes in for some unfair criticism at times. He's been captain under 4 or 5 managers now and clearly is a very competent League 2, lower League 1 centre back. Here's to another 100!

Ben - Max has been a pretty loyal servant to the club, he’s always been pretty reliable, doesn’t miss many games through injury or suspension, and at this level there aren’t too many better than him. He’s always been at his best with a solid and consistent partner. I think he’s getting to a stage where we might have to think about him no longer being a starter though, Ogie and Masterson are the future and should start together in a back 4.

Cian - Max has been and will continue to be a great servant to the club. He has been an ever-present throughout a majority of my time following the Gills and albeit not being the flashiest player he is one that consistently does a solid job – and brings the best out of younger partners.

Gillingham Legends - He's taken a lot of flak over the years, when we've struggled he's usually been made the scapegoat but he's still there. He wouldn’t be classed as one of the greatest defenders we've ever had but to play 400 matches for one club is incredibly rare in the modern game, especially at our level. You don’t play that many games if you're a bad player. I've always liked Max, he's a reliable, solid defender and now is using his experience to help the younger defenders too. 

12. FA CUP REPLAYS HAVE BEEN SCRAPPED FROM THE FIRST ROUND AT THE START OF THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON, THE REASONING FOR FA CUP REPLAYS BEING SCRAPPED IS THE EXPANSION OF THE UEFA CHAMPIONS LEAGUE, AND THE CLUB WORLD CUP ALSO BEING EXPANDED, AND  WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS ON FA CUP REPLAYS BEING SCRAPPED ???

Paul - Not impressed to be honest as the FA cup brings valuable income to lower leagues, I think replays should only have been scrapped after the fourth round 

Mark - It’s a shocking decision. A lucrative replay can keep lower league / NL clubs afloat. Shocking decision.

Colin - Replays against top sides are an exciting part of the football landscape for the fans of smaller clubs. At the end of the day the big boys don’t want to be playing smaller clubs. Money talks. Another kick in the teeth this time from the FA.

Rob - There's absolutely no reason why FA Cup replays should have been scrapped before the 3rd round. I can see the financial argument for why PL clubs want them scrapped although I don't agree with it.

Ben - Horrendous decision, just more evidence that the top clubs get a bigger say in how the game is run, smaller clubs rely heavily on revenue generated from FA Cup replays. 

Cian - I think that FA cup replays being scrapped is scandalous – not because I’m thrilled about potential replays against the lower league sides but because of the magic appeal of potential trips to bigger clubs. The fact is Gillingham FC play more games than a majority of the bigger clubs in the country its because of the mentality of the bigger sides and their lack of respect for the competition.

Gillingham Legends - Think it's disgusting! Another change to benefit the big clubs without any thought of the small clubs. The chance to get a replay back at big club is what the FA Cup has always been about. A pay day for the clubs and a day out for the fans. These Premier League teams have squads of 50 international players on £100k+ a week, so you can't tell me they can't fit in a few extra games. Gillingham have had some fantastic games and memories that have happened because of replays over the years. It makes me sick that the small clubs are again overlooked and everything revolves around the big boys. The magic of the FA Cup will really go now. Football in general was so much better 20 - 30 years ago.

13. THE LEAGUE CUP WILL ALSO EXPERIENCE SOME CHANGES FROM THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON, WITH A SEEDING SYSTEM IMPLEMENTED TO ENSURE THAT THE BIG CLUBS AVOID PLAYING AGAINST EACH OTHER, AND WHILST THE SPECIFICS HAVE NOT BEEN MENTIONED CLEARLY ON WHAT HAPPENS TO THE LEAGUE CUP FROM NEXT SEASON, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE LEAGUE CUP MAKING CHANGES TO SUIT THE BIGGER PREMIER LEAGUE SIDES ???

Paul - Again not impressed but we just have to cope with playing our seeded opponents

Mark - Not really sure I understand it. If it means the little clubs are more likely to draw a big club then I'm probably OK with it. 

Colin - It’s always good to draw a big club in a cup competition. Whether the changes will make this more or less likely I don’t know. Generally I am against fiddling around with pulling names out of a hat and playing whoever fate throws up.

Rob - I'm not fussed about the League Cup and think it's probably a competition we could do without. We're one of the few countries that still do it - France scrapped theirs in 2020.

Ben - Pretty much the same answer as the above, everything is being changed to suit the top clubs and not one single thought on how it affects the smaller clubs.

Cian - Although I'm not sure on the specifics I think it's very dangerous to design the whole countries system to suit the elite few. This hierarchy of influence is not something that football should entertain – the interests of Gillingham should be equally respected to that of the Rich 6.

Gillingham Legends - Another change because we have to make changes. The League Cup lost its magic a long time ago as it has been demeaned by so many clubs. I suppose it will be good as there's more chance of a Gills playing an Arsenal or someone. But will the Premier teams taking it even less seriously? I'm not sure. 

14. BROMLEY BEAT SOLIHULL MOORS IN THE NATIONAL LEAGUE PLAYOFF FINAL AT WEMBLEY STADIUM TO SECURE PROMOTION INTO THE FOOTBALL LEAGUE, AND BROMLEY WILL PLAY AGAINST GILLINGHAM IN LEAGUE TWO, NOW MY QUESTION IS THIS, DO YOU CONSIDER GILLINGHAM V BROMLEY TO BE A KENT DERBY ???

Paul - Yes it’s two teams from Kent but Bromley are hardly a league team yet so I hope we get enough away places at their non league ground

Mark - If we win it Yes and if we lose it then no - seriously I'm not sure either way and actually don't think its that important either. That will be our Boxing day, New Years day or Easter fixture so lets just enjoy having a local game. 

Colin - My take has always been that a derby is played against a team from the same city. Playing someone from the same county or area is more of a rivalry. That said we have no history with Bromley. We will certainly want to beat them. I just hope I can get a ticket for the away game as the allocation won’t be great.

Rob - No. Bromley is part of Greater London and has been since the 1960s.

Ben - Bromley is basically London and I think they consider themselves to be an outer suburb of London, it will be nice to have a local game though and League Two looks very northern this year.

Cian - I’m not sure in all honesty – even disregarding questions regarding Bromley's county status at this moment in time there is no bad blood between the two of us. Maybe a mutual competitive rivalry will be formed as traditionally we’ve lacked a local rivalry where we consistently are in the same divisions RE; Maidstone, Millwall, Charlton.

Gillingham Legends - It's not a Kent Derby as Bromley isn't in Kent. It is a local Derby though due to the distance and very much looking forward to it.

15. WITH WREXHAM, STOCKPORT COUNTY AND MANSFIELD TOWN ALL GETTING PROMOTED FROM LEAGUE TWO INTO LEAGUE ONE, AND CHELTENHAM TOWN, FLEETWOOD TOWN, PORT VALE AND CARLISLE UNITED GETTING RELEGATED FROM LEAGUE ONE INTO LEAGUE TWO, DO YOU THINK THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON MIGHT BE EASIER FOR GILLINGHAM TO CHALLENGE FOR PROMOTION, OR, DO YOU THINK LEAGUE TWO WILL BE JUST AS CHALLENGING AND JUST AS DIFFICULT, BECAUSE OTHER SIDES IN THE DIVISION MIGHT BE THINKING THE SAME-THING ???

Paul - Still be a tough physical league, As no doubt any newcomers will find out

Mark - It SHOULD be easier but nothing is certain. WE SHOULD be strong enough to be right up there this season no matter what others do..............but only if we score more, a lot more. 

Colin - It is surprising how many teams are able to splash the cash. I don’t think it will be easier to get results unless you have decent goal-scorers. We seem to be in a better position in that regard than we were last season. 

Rob - I think it's going to be an easier league in that there's a few big spenders gone, but more competitive in that many clubs will be challenging. I expect teams to be 5th and 6th yet only 4 or 5 points off top.

Ben - I think automatic promotion is more of a possibility this year as the promoted sides were spending a lot of money and creating a bit of a disparity between themselves and the rest of L2. I think Fleetwood and Port Vale might challenge, along with the likes of MK Dons and Notts County again.

Cian - I think that this is a league that is always difficult to get out of and we need to be prepared for a long slog. In regard to teams coming down, us amongst others proved that getting relegated does not make you a favourite for this league – with many teams struggling for at least the first season. Chesterfield coming up will prove to be difficult and if sides such as Notts County and Bradford recruit well it will be a tough division.

Gillingham Legends - Possibly easier as there's less teams with money. However, it's really down to us and we should be competing with whoever is up there regardless, if we want to challenge. We should've done this last season too.

16. GILLINGHAM WENT ELEVEN HOME GAMES UNBEATEN IN THE LEAGUE FOR THE SECOND HALF OF THE 2023 / 2024 SEASON, AND THE LAST TIME GILLINGHAM LOST A HOME LEAGUE GAME WAS A 2-0 HOME DEFEAT AGAINST CRAWLEY TOWN ON BOXING DAY, HOWEVER, GILLINGHAM WON THREE AND DREW EIGHT HOME GAMES IN THAT ELEVEN HOME GAME UNBEATEN RUN, HOW DO GILLINGHAM TURN SOME OF THOSE DRAWS INTO WINS FOR THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON ???

Paul - By scoring more goals which was our weakness last two seasons

Mark - Pace and goal scorers. Hawkins slowed us right down and we were on a one trick pony - out to Hutton and cross to Hawkins - very predictable. We need crosses and pace from both flanks and pace up front.  

Colin - That’s an easy one. We score some goals.

Rob - We need to be more attacking, simple as that. I think our new signings will do that.

Ben - A big reason we didn’t get more wins last season is because we set ourselves up to try and not lose, rather than setting up to go and win games, the pace and width in the team now will be a game changer and we should start getting more positive results because of that.

Cian - We need to score goals! It's that simple in all honesty – I'm sure Bonner will have us attacking teams and playing more on the front foot rather than sitting back and defending games.  

Gillingham Legends - Score more goals! Defensively we weren't too bad but if you don't score enough goals, it puts pressure on the defence not to concede and makes it hard to win.

17. WHO DID YOU VOTE FOR, FOR GILLINGHAM’S PLAYER OF THE SEASON, AND GILLINGHAM’S GOAL OF THE SEASON ???

Paul - Player Of The Season - Conor Masterson - Goal Of The Season - Scott Malone

Mark - Masterson and Mahoney (against Morecambe I think) 

Colin - I voted for Glenn Morris and Mahoney’s goal away to Swindon.

Rob - Conor Masterson

Ben - My player of the season was Ethan Coleman and goal of the season was Malone’s rocket.

Cian - I personally voted for Ethan Coleman as my player of the season – he was a consistent good performer for us and stepped up impressively. My goal of the season personally was Scott Malone’s screamer against Sutton. It was one of the only home games I managed to make last season and it was a quality volley.

Gillingham Legends - I voted for Ethan Coleman as I felt he was generally excellent throughout. He maybe dropped off a bit towards the end but he made that position his own and has become a very important player. I voted for Malone's goal against Sutton which was a technically excellent finish.

18. WHICH PLAYER WHO PLAYED FOR GILLINGHAM DURING THE 2023 / 2024 SEASON CAN YOU SEE PERFORMING BETTER FOR GILLINGHAM FOR THE 2024 / 2025 SEASON ???

Paul - Youngsters tend to improve but I want to see Jonny score goals

Mark - Jonny Williams. He should be class at this level and I hope with more movement around him that he will show that for us last season. We should build a team around his ability but last season he was very ineffective most of the time. I think a new style and new manager might bring out the best in him. 

Colin - I think Ogie will press on. He had a good season last time round but made a few mistakes. I think he can be a big player for us.

Rob - Andrews. With quality wingers either side of him and Williams playing centrally, he should get a bucket load of chances to score.

Ben - I think Ogie has a really bright future and if he can take out the bit of rashness and add just a bit more composure to his game we will have a serious player on our hands, I think and I hope Jonny Williams will also thrive more in a more possession oriented team, as his output in terms of goals and assists was nowhere near good enough last year.

Cian - I hope that we see a lot more from Jonny Williams personally – I think with the upgrades we have made in the attacking third he will be able to fulfil his abilities – hopefully we see more of him from No10 with the quality around him. I also think that Hutton will see a massive improvement in his assists tally!

Gillingham Legends - Hopefully Jonny Williams. He's a very good, experienced player who's played at much higher levels and I think he only showed in patches what he was capable of and was a bit disappointing. I'd like to see much more from him on a consistent basis, which I believe he can do. 

19. THERE HAVE BEEN A FEW CHANGES IN FOOTBALL IN RECENT YEARS LIKE EXPANDING THE CHAMPIONS LEAGUE, SCRAPPING FA CUP REPLAYS AND INCREASING THE NUMBER OF SUBSTITUTIONS FROM THREE TO FIVE, BUT WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL BE THE NEXT CHANGE TO HAPPEN IN FOOTBALL ???

Paul - It’s tough to know what’s next in rule changes

Mark - Great question. At the top then I think a multinational league is inevitable, don't like it but TV money talks. At our end I think we will see more clubs go bust and maybe regional leagues in league 2 may return. 

Colin - Hopefully getting rid of the Prem B teams in the EFL Trophy. 

Rob - I do wonder if we'll see sin bins, or even the clock stopping when the ball goes out of play. I'd be in favour of the latter, especially at the top level.

Ben - I would hate it, but at the top level I think there are bound to be league games that are played overseas soon enough, how that will work I don’t know, but you can see with the amount of teams that play overseas friendlies now that it’s a matter of time. Newcastle and Spurs played each other in Australia just 3 days after the last premier league game as an example.

Cian - Thats a very interesting question – I'll remain hopeful and wish for an adaptation to the EFL Trophy. I hope that the tournament will return to a no B-Team format, or even integrate National League teams into the competition.

Gillingham Legends - God knows but I do fear it. I think very few of these changes have been for the benefit of the game and fear that our beautiful game is started to be ruined. 

20. AND FINALLY, IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WISH TO ADD (EXAMPLE: IS THERE SOMETHING I HAVE NOT COVERED IN THE NINETEEN QUESTIONS ASKED ABOVE YOU WANT TO EXPAND UPON) ???

Paul - A very comprehensive list Lee, Well done

Mark - Could have done a poll on where will finish - top 3 for me

Colin - That’s all from me.

Rob - No, thanks for doing this Lee. Up the Gills!

Ben - I think the club is in a really good place going into this season, we finally have owners that care, they won’t get everything right but they will try and that’s what counts, I also think Joe Comper has done an excellent job. Here’s to a great season, up the Gills!

Cian - I’d like to say thank you for asking me to contribute as always Lee. Up the Gills!

Gillingham Legends - Nothing to add, well done. UTG!

Once again, thank you to everyone for participating in this blog, and if anyone who is reading this wishes to participate in The Next Gillingham Supporters Blog, then feel free to send me a message, and your more than welcome to participate in The Next Gillingham Supporters Blog, The Strength Of The Gillingham Supporters Blog comes from everyone who has contributed, so once again, thank you to everyone who has participated in every single Gillingham Supporters Blog.

[kanisema-blog]

Re-yal or Fa-ke?

Eli was a talented web designer who had always dreamed of starting her own web development company. She was ambitious, driven, and determined to succeed in the fast-paced world of technology. Parson, on the other hand, was a successful CEO of a booming tech company. He was charming, charismatic, and known for his sharp business acumen.

The two of them met at a networking event for tech professionals, and sparks instantly flew between them. They had an instant connection and soon found themselves spending more and more time together. It wasn't long before they started dating, and their relationship quickly became the talk of the town.

However, as their relationship progressed, Eli began to have doubts about Parson's true feelings for her. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was only interested in her for her connections and not for who she truly was. Parson, on the other hand, was struggling with his own feelings of guilt. He knew that he was keeping a big secret from Eli, and it was starting to weigh on him.

One day, as they sat down for dinner at a fancy restaurant, Eli finally mustered up the courage to confront Parson about her suspicions. "Parson, I need to know the truth. Are your feelings for me real, or am I just a pawn in your game?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Parson was taken aback by her question, but he knew he couldn't keep lying to her. "Eli, I have to be honest with you. Our relationship started off as a business arrangement, but I've come to care for you deeply. I never expected to fall for you, but I have," he confessed, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Eli was shocked by his confession, but also relieved to finally have some clarity. "So, what you're saying is that our whole relationship has been based on lies and manipulation?" she asked, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt.

Parson reached out to hold her hand, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I know I've made mistakes, but please believe me when I say that my feelings for you are real now. I want to make things right and show you that I truly care for you," he said, his voice full of sincerity.

Eli stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. But all she saw was honesty and vulnerability. She knew that she had a decision to make – whether to walk away from the man she had grown to care for, or to give him a chance to prove his love.

As days passed, Eli found herself unable to shake her feelings for Parson. Despite everything, she couldn't deny the connection they shared. And so, she decided to give him another chance, albeit with caution.

Their relationship continued to evolve, this time with a newfound sense of honesty and openness. They became each other's support system, leaning on one another during both the good times and the bad. And through it all, their love only grew stronger.

One day, as they sat on the rooftop of Eli's apartment, watching the sunset, Parson took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. "Eli, I know I messed up in the beginning, but I hope you can see how much I truly love you now. You mean everything to me, and I never want to lose you," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

Eli smiled, her heart full of love for the man who had once been a stranger. "Parson, I believe you. I've seen the changes you've made, and I know that your feelings for me are real. I love you too, and I'm willing to give us a real chance at happiness," she said, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

And as they embraced each other, watching the stars twinkle in the night sky, they knew that their love was no longer fake – it was as real as it could be. And so, Eli and Parson embarked on a new chapter of their love story, one filled with honesty, trust, and the promise of a bright future together.