#if you have any suggestions for tilly please share them

[crushsblogstories]

Camping Trip - Part 2

WARNING(S)!

None of these are my characters!

I came up with the plot.

Suggestive themes?!

Potential small inaccuracy! Though the exact date s'mores were invented is unknown, the first formal recipe is recorded in the 1927 book. Anne with an E takes place in the early 19th century so they might’ve had or might not have had s’mores, but there is still a chance they did. Actuall Inaccuracy! I mentioned a flashlight very breafly during a 'scary story'.

Pronouns! Not specified

||Wordbank:|| Knickers - Shorts || Trousers - Pants||

PART 1 [] Current: PART 2 [] PART 3

-After Arriving-

My POV

We arrived at the forest and walked a short way to a nearby river. Anne, Diana, Josie, and I had shared a carriage, whilst Tillie, Ms. Stacy, Charlie, Ruby, and Moody shared another. The rest of the boys had stuffed in the third carriage (Poor Gilbert). When we departed I remembered the misfortune of Jane, not having been able to come because of a slight cough her parents were worried about.

Finally taking in the river, I almost gasp a–“Wow” breathes Anne, seemingly having read my thoughts. “It’s so- so-” “Romantical?” Diana butts in seeing Anne at a loss for words, “Breathtaking?” Ruby chimes, “Pretty” Tillie finishes in a dazed manner causing us to laugh. “Not exactly.. I believe I am finally at a loss for words” Anne says, looking back at the stream. “Peaceful.” I say, smiling at the sight, “Huh?” says Anne, turning to look at me along with the rest of the girls. “Peaceful,” I repeat, turning to face them as well, “You don’t always need fancy or large words to describe something. I find this scene peaceful” I repeat once more, looking back towards the river, “It’s soft like the dazed state of having just woken up, and calming like reading by a warm fireplace in the dark of night. Peaceful.” I finish. “Y/N…” I turn my head to the sound of Ruby saying my name, “That was.. Beautiful” finishes Diana, Tillie and Anne nodding in agreement. “Oh!- I-” I am cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Alright everyone. Time set up camp. Pitch your tents and afterwards I’ll need two volunteers to help me with gathering wood and stones for the fire. Understood?” Ms. Stacy explains, receiving nods and yes’s as a reply.

I set up my tent rather quickly, finishing even before Ms. Stacy. As a result, I decided to help the other girls with their tents as they seem to be struggling. I help Tillie first as she is a quick learner and could help someone else soon after. As I thought, she understood quickly and went to help Ruby. Finished with Tillie, I go over to Anne who was struggling the most. “Hey Anne. Need any help?” I offer, “Hm? Oh! Yes please.. I don’t quite understand how these ropes tie into things. No pun intended.” There is a pause before we both burst out laughing. It may not have been that funny but we enjoyed the joke nonetheless. I crouch down to assist Anne and explain where everything goes.

Just having finished, Gilbert approaches. “Um… Y/N?” Gilbert utters, “Yes?” I turn to be met by his gorgeous eyes. “Do.. Do you um.. Need any help with your tent?” He asks, rubbing his neck. I can tell he just wants to spend time together as we didn’t get much time to talk this morning, none at all actually, but there’s one problem… This isn’t my tent. “Oh! Um. I’d love that but…” I trail off not wanting to upset him. “But…?” He repeats, staring intently, “This is not my tent. It’s Anne’s. I finished pitching mine a while ago, it was the first one up.” I say pointing towards my tent. “Oh..” He says disappointedly, “Yeah.. Sorry for bothering.” He turns to walk away but my voice stops him, “But! Anne and I just finished and we’ll need food right? I heard Billy bragging about how he’ll catch a big enough fish for everyone to eat. I doubt that will happen, or that there’s a fish big enough for that here, but if we give it a go we might have a chance at survival.” I laugh, so does Gilbert. 

 -A Short Minute Later-

We reach the not-so-far river in less than a minute as it’s only a few meters from where we set up camp. Just as I go to say something, we hear an all too familiar voice. “AHEM. Your attention please.” ‘Wow.. The first time I’ve heard Billy say please..’ I think, rolling my eyes in the process “I will help all, and any people who might need help catching fish,” He continues, gathering everyone's attention while some stand closer to hear better. Whilst Billy rambles about how he’s ‘super good at fishing’ I realize he keeps glancing over to me. I think Gilbert seemed to notice as well because he randomly grabbed my hand and kissed it softly. I look over at him and he flashes me a quick, seemingly genuine smile, though I can tell he’s annoyed.

Not seeming to be aware of, though simultaneously breaking the tension, Josie walks between Billy, Gilbert, and I, standing herself in front of the river. “I think I get it… Do we just.. grab them?” Josie says, playing dumb as she reaches in to ‘grab a fish’. SPLASH! Josie falls into the shallow river with a screech. Instead of helping Josie, Billy attempts to stifle a laugh.

Knowing full well of Josie's plan, of which is not working, I go to help her. Walking up, and reaching out a hand. “What. Are. You. Doing?!?” Josie, whisper-shouts, “Helping you.” I whisper back “He’s obviously not going too…” I add. “Ugh” Josie silently groans, she grabs my hand and.. SPLASH! She pulled me in too! ‘UGH! Why do girls like Josie feel the need to act like a damsel in distress all the time and push aside the people who actually try to help!?’ I internally complain.

All of a sudden, Billy doesn’t find the fact Josie fell in so funny. He straightens himself up, clears his throat, standing tall and begins to walk over, Gilbert having started walking a couple seconds beforehand, “You were saying?” Josie whispers, as impertinent as possible. I roll my eyes, ready to help myself up when two hands reach out, preventing me from getting up, but offering assistance instead. I look up, sun shining bright in my eyes, to barely see Gilbert and… Billy?? I look over to Josie and she looks furious. At both me, and Billy.

Turning my attention back to getting up, I grab Gilbert's hand, him pulling me up with little to no effort. “Thank you.” I say with a slight nod, directly to Gilbert, making direct eye contact as I don’t feel like dealing with an angry Josie Pye. Gilbert smiles in response as I turn to Billy. I may not like him as a person, but I will still be polite and have matters with him. “Thank you.” I say, “You’re wel-” He starts with a visible smile, of which I’ve never seen unless with mal-intent, but I cut him off. “Thank you for offering your hand, though Josie fell in first and is still sitting in the water. You were the closest to her though only came to help me after I fell in.” Billy’s almost-smile faltered.

There was a pause. A very short but awkward one. To cut the tension you’d need a very thick saw. Finally, the pause was over when Billy nodded with a slight hum, and went over to help Josie out. “Oh! Why thank you Billy!” Josie said, now out of the water as if the whole ordeal hadn’t happened right before her eyes and her plan hadn’t gone to pieces. Everyone went back to their respective tasks and fun though I could tell Josie was fuming, along with Gilbert. Though he hid it much better.

Me and Gilbert reached where Ms. Stacy had set up the fishing materials, it consisted of nets, wooden spears, and a large tub, assumingly for the fish. I understand why there were no fishing rods as the water is shallow.

“What tactic do you think we should use?” I ask, turning to Gilbert who I now find behind me, looking off across the river in thought. “Gil?” I called, “Hm?” He hums, turning to face me, “Oh! Sorry, could you repeat that?” He asks, playing it off. “Do you want to use the nets or the spears?” I repeat. “Net seems more efficient but spears would be more fun.” He pauses and smiles, “Spears” He finishes still smiling, though I can tell something is wrong. “Gil..” I step closer, only a few inches away. Before continuing, I reach my hand up to cup his cheek, “You ok? You know you can tell me if somethings up. Especially if you’re upset in any way.” I say, starting soft but firming my tone at the end a bit so he knows I’m being genuine. “I know.” He says lightly, tilting his head into my hand and reaching his own up to grasp it. I stare into his eyes worriedly for a moment. Hoping he’ll tell me what is bothering him, what I can do to help. I sigh, choosing to pretend as if I’m not worrying, and to wait until he’s ready to tell me. 

 -Campfire time-

The sun has set and the stars start creeping out. Everyone is gathered around the fire on logs or on the ground, Moody is sat beside Ruby, both of whom are blushing, avoiding eye-contact, Ms. Stacy is sat on the left end of said log opening a bag of marshmallows to pass around.

On the log to the right of them, Tilly, Diana, and Anne share a log. Continuing to the right, Gilbert and I sit on a log, my head resting on his shoulder as I sit in the very middle of the chopped tree. And the final log has a still angry Josie on the left end and a seemingly nervous Charlie on the right staring directly at Tillie.

Everyone is engaging in conversation, Charlie asked Tillie to go on a stroll with him to which she agreed, and Josie began mumbling to herself of what I believe to be angered statements a while ago. The only silence of the night being mine and Gilbert’s. It was comfortable yet I was still waiting for him to tell me why he was so bothered. I obviously knew it was jealousy, which I must admit was kinda hot, but he usually isn’t as bothered about it and just teases me with ‘I’m glad I got to you first’ or ‘See? You’re so beautiful even ______ wants you!’. This time it was different though, it made me nervous.

“Gilbert?” My voice was soft and quiet though I still saw him jump slightly. “Yes darling?” He replied, “Come with me.” I whisper, grabbing his hand and leading him into the forest. We walk about 7 minutes away from camp in silence. “Is everything alright?” Gilbert asks once we stop by one of the many tall trees. “No, because you aren’t telling me what’s bothering you. I understand if you’re not ready to tell me right this momment, or you never will, but I worry.” I reply, he pulls me closer and kisses my forehead before resting his hands on my waist, “Sorry, it’s just. Billy.” He said. I guide Gilbert to sit under a tree with me, “You never let him get to you. What’s different now?” I ask, confused.

“The whole ride here all he could do was ramble about how lucky I am to be with you and how pretty you are. At some point he even started talking about your figure. I had to change the subject to be about him because he wasn’t interested in any other topic.” Gilbert goes quiet and I turn his head to face me, “Gil..” He cuts me off, “And I won’t say you’re mine because that is objectifying and I would never do that to any woman but I just love you so much and I couldn’t stand him rambling on and on about you and he’s such a—!” I cut him off with a kiss. “I’m yours and you are mine” I reassure with a smile, earning a smile back.

“Want me to prove it?” I ask, my smile forming into a smirk. Gilbert nods eagerly as I begin kissing him, I climb onto his lap to close the gap between us as he pulls me closer by my waist. “I love you Gilbert.” I reassure, he simply smiles back though I know he isn’t upset anymore. We stay like that for a couple of minutes before Gilbert pipes up, “Love, as much as I adore this, we have to head back.” I pause for a moment. “But I don’t want toooo.” I cuddle closer to him as I complain, “Alright, I guess we’ll miss out on s’mores then.” Gilbert says with a smirk, I immediately jump up. “Well?! What are you doing sitting there?! Let’s go!” I begin walking off back to the camp as Gilbert jogs up to walk by my side laughing. “I love you, you know that?” He asks, “Mhm. I love you too. But I adore s’mores.” I say cheerfully, earning a laugh.

 -Back at Camp-

Me and Gilbert walk back to camp hand in hand, giggling and laughing. “Oh! Just in time! We were about to make s’mores!” Anne says, being the first to notice me and Gilbert and causing everyone else to look over. Aside from Tilly and Charlie, who are smiling at each other holding hands (very adorably I might add). Me and Gilbert move to sit down in our previous spots on one of the logs. As we do, I feel eyes lingering on me, it’s Billy. I pretend not to notice and pay no mind to it.

Marshmallows and twigs are passed around, and people begin to make s’mores. “Oooh! Oooh! Why don’t we tell scary stories?!” Diana pipes up, “Oh! Yes that’s a great idea Diana!” Anne adds. “I’ve got one, but you girls might be too scared to hear it.” Billy says, causing Ruby to shriek and hug Moody tight to which I smiled at. Billy then goes on to tell the worst, least scary, dumbest, story I’ve ever heard,

“Once upon a dark night, there was a boy named Billy. He went out hunting for some dumb fox but ended up getting lost in the forest. Then, suddenly he heard a sound! He screamed, and yelled, and ran! And he found his way back home. But he never found out what that sound was…” As Billy spoke, he tried his best to sound ominous and creepy, throwing in hand movements here and there, but the story was just so bland and stupid that no one was scared, not even Ruby. “AHHHH!” Josie screams, clinging onto Billy helplessly. This act caused me to roll my eyes and rest my head on Gilbert’s shoulder, just observing everyone’s reaction to the situation.

Billy looks to me and sees my unbothered face, he looks a bit disappointed but switches to facing Josie and smiling. The smile is so obviously fake but as they say ‘love makes you blind’ so Josie’s face lights up when Billy says, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” 'What a fake' I think to myself. “I’ve got a better story.” Gilbert states, attracting the attention of everyone, and a glare from Billy. I lift my head off Gilbert’s shoulder and shift to face him, knees touching. “Well? Go on.” I smile. 

......

“...As she opens the old rusty door, hearing it creak, a shiver runs up her back and her flashlight shuts off. The room is pitch black, even the dim light of the hallway she once stood in not being enough to illuminate her surroundings. She steps in the room, hearing water dripping. 'It's an old house.' She thinks, paying no mind. That’s when her flashlight flickers for a moment. She swears she had just seen a pair of eyes. The flashlight flickers once more, were the eyes getting closer? No. It had to have just been her imagination. The flashlight turns on completely and she’s met with the sight of her best friend, he’s hanging by a rope, tied to his neck. Suddenly, the realization hit her, it wasn’t water dripping she heard, it was…‘AHHHHHHH’ She tried to scream but her mouth was covered by old, dirty hands. The last thing she saw was a figure running past her now fallen, and flickering, flashlight, and hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at her…”

Gilbert finishes his story, an ominous and spooky atmosphere lingers. Diana and Anne are clutching onto one another, Josie is practically on the verge of sobbing into Billy’s arm, Ruby's holding onto Moody, of whom is trying to act heroic and brave though seems almost just as scared, Tillie was surprisingly into the plot whilst Charlie looks completely traumatized, Ms.Stacy looks concerned Gilbert knew such a story or came up with it himself due to all the gore, and I was doing my best not to laugh at everyones reactions.

"Well. Um. Let's head to bed, shall we?" Ms.Stacy says, beginning to pack everything up. "Goodnight my love." Gilbert says, softly pecking my lips. "Goodnight Gil." I smile.

To be continued? (Let me know!)

Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated though you are not obligated!

Requests are open here!

[a-libra-writes]

Bathing With the RDR2 Gang

This is 150% self indulgent please forgive me. Im only in like chap 3 of the game haha but i cant resist. rockstar please cant i just give everyone a bath and nicer clothes??? let me give tilly lots of dresses i beg you

In this imagine, you’ll be warshin: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones

ARTHUR MORGAN

He’s bashful about it at first, even if you’ve been together before, but it doesn’t take long at all for him to relax. He really enjoys the closeness of it, and how intimate and calming something as simple as sitting in water can be. It’s a little cold, which just makes him want to hold you closer. If he’s had an exhausting day, he’ll lean on your shoulder and close his eyes, slowly dozing off as you run your fingers through his hair. You figure you should let him rest, and you wash the rest of him while he sighs contentedly against your wet skin. After a bath, regardless if it’s in a river or tub, he’s always worried you’ll catch cold. He packs an extra jacket or shirt of his for you to wear. If you had a warm bath at the saloon, he’ll be in such a snuggly, intimate mood that he’ll grin as he carries you to the room.

JOHN MARSTON

You’ve never met a man who gets as mangy as he does, and so quickly! You have to drag him to a river to properly wash, since he seems to just splash water on his face and arms and call it a day. John fusses with embarrassment at first and can’t believe you actually brought fancy soaps (any soap is fancy to him), but he quiets down once you strip. Once you’re in the water and lathering him up, he’s bashful from the attention but actually really likes it. He can’t help himself from getting handsy, almost clingy, but he stays obedient and rinses off when you tell him. He’s not so fond of the saloon tubs, even with the hot water, because it just feels too cramped. The openness of a lake or river, along with the bright sun and noise of nature, is just objectively better.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

While he loves sharing a bath with you, it’s definitely an indulgence and one you both don’t always have time for. So when there’s time, he makes sure it’s a cozy tub with plenty of hot water. He thinks it’s adorable if you want to wash him and care for him, because he’d rather do that to you. Sometimes he’s chatty and playful, other times he’s tired and thoughtful, but Dutch always likes to just hold you and soak for a bit. He’ll make sure you’re dried off and warm first, and he’ll want to keep touching you, so he’ll want to dress you and escort you to the room. Dutch really can’t get enough of your skin when it’s wet and smelling so nice, so you aren’t going to sleep anytime soon. 

HOSEA MATTHEWS

He enjoys bathing out in nature, even if there isn’t always time for a proper wash, so your suggestion to take a dip in the lake amuses him. He’d rather wash you first, enjoying the simplicity of doing something like that for someone he loves. You two often end up chatting and joking about this or that while you just take your time and enjoy the sunny day. Hosea doesn’t mind if the water is a little cold, it invigorates him better than a cup of coffee. He always urges you to dry off and dress quickly so you don’t catch cold, and he’s the one who double checks to make sure you both brought a spare change of clothes. Hosea doesn’t mind a hot  bath in the saloon, even if it is cramped. It makes him terribly sleepy, though, he’ll rest his head in the crook of your neck… but he’d rather not fall asleep in a giant porcelain bowl, so he’d urge you to head to bed with him. 

SADIE ADLER

Honestly, she’s a little too embarrassed to squeeze in a tub with you, so a quick wash in a river is preferable. Her first thought is to strip down and get it done quick, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you want to sit in the water and help wash her for a bit. Only a bit, she says, but she ends up enjoying the smalltalk and admiring you. She’d rather wash herself, but she wants to help you reach any spots you can’t get. If she’s feeling more relaxed and sentimental, she’ll want to take care of your hair, too. Sadie prefers bathing with you at night, half because it feels more private, half because it feels like you have all the time in the world and you both can just enjoy each other’s company and the stars. It always makes her feel less tense and helps her sleep a little better.

MICAH BELL

Good lord, it’s like wrangling a cat. Your chance of success is significantly higher if he’s drunk and you promise sex afterward. You all but push him into the river, he grumbles and swears the entire time, he can’t believe you have “soap and shit”, also he can’t keep his hands to himself and wants to drag you into his lap. You could’ve washed his hair in just a few minutes, but it takes longer because you keep swatting his hands away and scolding him for nipping at your neck and shoulders. He’d never admit how nice your fingers feel on his scalp, even if it relaxes him to the point where he’s quieter and less handsy. You don’t bother taking him to the saloon for a dip in the tub because there’s no way he’ll give a shit about bathing when you’re squeezed in such a tight spot with him.

CHARLES SMITH

He loves bathing in rivers and lakes with you; he’s the one to casually suggest it first. It’s just such a simple yet private and loving thing for him, he can’t keep the grin off his face as you strip down and join him in the water. He wants to spoil you first, really touch and enjoy every inch of you, but he melts in your hands when you start washing his hair and rubbing his broad back. His favorite time to do it is at night, since you look so beautiful under the glow of the moon and the stars. If you both are feeling more playful, he’ll definitely splash at you or drag you to the deep end to swim around. Once you both are thoroughly clean and tired, he’ll want to fetch your dry clothes for you, and he always packs a blanket in case you want to sit out and enjoy the night. 

BILL WILLIAMSON

Well, your offer embarrassed him at first, but then you teased him and playfully dared him and well, now you’re here at the riverbank and he’s stripping down in a huff. You were surprised how shy he was at first, since it wasn’t the first time you’d been naked together. Bill wasn’t sure where he should put his hands (or his eyes) and how deep in the water you wanted to go, but once you cuddled close and started washing him, that all melted away. It’s exciting and fun to him, and he likes the soaps you use on him. Even if they smell girly and flowery, it’s what you use, and it’s nice to have your hands on him. Maybe this is why they’re so soft? Afterward he’d really want you to wear one of his shirts back to camp, and he’s disappointed when the smell of your soap eventually fades off the flannel.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

He jumps at the suggestion when you first make it, and he’s the sort to prefer the saloons and their hot water. First of all, hot steaming water, often with bubbles because of the soaps you bring, and he gets to keep you as close as he pleases and “accidentally” brush against your body at all angles. No downsides here. He dislikes the cold water of lakes and rivers; the sun is rarely strong enough to warm them. He’s very weak to you washing his hair. He’ll lean into your touch and give you all sorts of kisses and praises as you run your fingers through it. He’s in such a giddy, warm mood afterward that he wants to dry you off himself and carry you to the room, grinning like you two are newlyweds. There’s no way he’s letting the night end with just a bath. 

SEAN MACGUIRE

Alright, he talks big game when you suggest it, grinning that of course he couldn’t turn down such an offer, and you two won’t be doing much bathing, if you get his point. You just roll your eyes and tell him to follow you. The thing is, once you start stripping down without a care, he starts getting a little red in the ears. By the time you’re both nude and you’re relaxing in the water, he’s flushed to his neck but still trying to make jokes. He’s startled that you actually want to help him wash, and when he does the same, he’s seriously conflicted on where to put his hands. Once he’s relaxed, the “accidental” touches are gonna happen all the time and a splash fight will break out. Once you’re all dried off and heading back to camp, he totally talks big game and wants to kiss on you and brag about your little dip, as if it’s something scandalous.

LENNY SUMMERS

He’s totally flustered at your suggestion but there’s no way he’s not doing it. He’d rather go to the river, especially at night, since it feels more private and something about a stuffy, heated saloon bathing room is a bit … much. Besides, this way you can see the stars and moon, and be as loud as you want. Lenny’s nerves all but melt away once you both start talking and washing, and he gets in a very content, cuddly mood. He makes a point to remember the soaps you like so he can get more if he comes across any, and he wants to help you dry off so he’s sure you won’t get too cold. He’ll probably suggest sitting by the campfire for a bit, just to be sure (and just because he wants to keep cuddling).

KIERAN DUFFY

This poor man, why are you teasing him like this? He’s so sure there’s some kind of punchline, but you walked with him all the way to the river, and now you’re stripping down … He’s so flushed with embarrassment, but there’s no way he’s not following you into the water. Once you joke around with him and talk to settle his nerves, the tension finally leaves his shoulders. He’ll be a little unsure about you touching and washing him, but he’s glad to do the same for you, trying very hard not to get distracted by the softness of your skin. Once you’re ready to get out, Kieran suddenly worries about you being cold, and he really insists on you wearing his jacket on top of your’s, and that you ought to sit by a fire to warm up. It’s cute how much he frets about this. 

TILLY JACKSON

Tilly will pick warm water and a cramped tub any day of the week, and really, it’s not so bad since you’re both ladies and she’s fairly short. She finds the cramped space comical if anything, and you both will be wiggling and giggling while you wash off and just leisurely enjoy the bath. She’s the type who doesn’t like to prune, but she won’t get out until you do. She has a nice collection of soaps and often finds ones you like, and helps you wash after you help her. Afterward she definitely wants to cuddle and probably apply some lotions; you think it’s cute how much she likes feeling so clean and pretty. All that plus the saloon’s mostly cozy bed makes you two feel like fancy ladies living in luxury, and you both grin and recall it for a least a week afterward. A dip in the river is so … unexciting by comparison, you both just sigh and wash quickly before you shiver to death. 

MARY-BETH GASKILL

Your offer made the color rise to her cheeks, even if you’d been intimate before. Why hadn’t this occurred to her? It seemed like a private thing, but she was too interested. She always thought a hot bath was the height of comfort, but when you took her to the river, she was in awe over how quiet and cozy it was as the sun set. The colors of the sky and stillness of the water was so romantic! She likes being the one to undo your hair and clothes, although she’s shy about you doing the same and wanting to wash her. Mary-Beth loves having nice soap to wash with and will admire you for having several on hand. She can’t help but be full of giggles and give you lots of kisses while you both sit and chat.

KAREN JONES

She’ll laugh at such a “saucy” suggestion, but she’s game for either a quick dip in the river or a trip to the saloon. When it comes to a warm tub, her usual jokes and fun will peter out as she gets sleepy and cuddles up to you. No matter where you two are, washing her hair and massaging her back makes her tired, and she’ll curl up in your arms and tease you about carrying a nice lady back to her bed. Once you two are dried off, she’ll wake up enough to help tie your hair up and dress for bed or for the day, depending on when you bathed. If it’s the morning, she’ll need just a few kisses and hugs to be energetic again. If she’s still chilly afterward, she’ll borrow one of your jackets and wear it well after she’s dried off.

[starrywatermelon]

Jealousy

Gilbert Blythe x Fem! Reader, Ruby Gillies x Fem! Reader (platonic)

Requests: here and here 

Authors note: These two requests are similar, so I decided to merge them together. This also steered a lot more to Ruby and Y/N’s friendship, so I kinda have a love hate feeling towards this fic. 

Warnings: Kinda obsessed Ruby? Jealousy (as the title suggests),slight bullying, not 100% true to plot

Word count: 1,471 

Y/N has always been close friends with the girls of Avonlea. All of them had practically grown up together, sharing secrets and talking about crushes. She had also always known that Ruby was in love with Gilbert Blythe. Ruby would be livid if anyone else had a crush on him, and everyone swore to not like him, no matter how handsome and kind he was. Y/N herself even promised Ruby that she would try to get the two together, only if she could be a bridesmaid. But what Ruby didn’t know, was that Y/N also liked Gilbert, but she had never mentioned it to anyone.

Years and years went by, but nothing had changed. A new girl named Anne even joined the school, and she too got the “Gilbert is off-limits” talk. Anne did seem a bit scared at first, but she also eventually got used to it.

“Did you all see Gilbert today?” Ruby exclaims as the girls take out their lunches.

“Yes, he goes to school with us and you're always talking about him!” Josie replies in frustration.

“No, I wasn’t going to speak about just him today. I was going to ask if you saw him this morning! He was talking to a girl.”

Y/N started to feel slightly nervous, but she kept listening to the conversation.

“A girl?”

“Yes, Tillie. A girl, about our age. I couldn’t see her face, but I wonder why he was talking to her.”

“I don’t think it's any of our business on why he was talking to her.” Diana retaliates.

“But what if he’s in love with her? What if she’s in love with him?” Ruby has tears in her eyes when she says this.

“Ruby, I don’t think that’s the case, if it was, we all would know. Right?”

“I hope that’s the case, Anne.I really do.”

She didn’t say anything else, none of the girls did. They all ate their lunch, everyone but Y/N tried to figure out who the mystery girl is.

The sky was orange and pink, clouds scattered everywhere. It was still fall, which made it convenient for Gilbert and Y/N to meet up. Today, she decided to go to his house and tell him about what happened. Not caring about her appearance to much, she ran to Gilbert’s house.

“Gil! Open up!”

A yawning Gilbert opened the door, and smiled.

“Hey! I didn’t expect you to come over today.”

“I didn’t expect to come over either, but something happened today that I wanted to tell you about.”

Gilbert’s smile drops, quickly letting her in. What the two didn’t know, was that a boy was watching, one that shouldn’t be trusted with secrets. That boy? Billy Andrews.

He was standing close by, and when Y/N entered the house, he went closer.

“What happened today Y/N/N?” he hears Gilbert, who sounds worried

“Today, Ruby was talking about how she saw you with a girl. She saw us, Gilbert. Thankfully she didn’t see who the ‘girl’ was but I just can’t stop thinking about if she finds out. Our friendship will be ruined forever and-“

She was quickly cut off by his arms around her, pulling her into a hug, and then giving her a small kiss on the forehead.

“It’s ok. Ruby won’t find out... And if she did, I’m sure she wouldn’t be too mad.”

“I hope that’s the case, I really do.”

Sure, Ruby hadn’t found out, but Billy certainly did.

Days went on, and nothing too interesting happened. Ruby continued to gush about Gilbert, the other girls continued to pretend that they were interested, Mr. Phillips continued to give the students a very hard time, and Y/N and Gilbert kept meeting up.

What was different, was the fact that Billy had kept spying on Y/N and Gilbert. He kept collecting small bits of information from their conversations, just waiting to use them against the two. After all, he never liked them anyway.

However, on this particular day, the class had decided to stay behind to play a game. The class sat in a circle after Mr. Phillips had left, waiting for Josie to explain.

“Whomever the bottle points to, you are permitted to kiss.” she made sure to look at everyone as she said this. “It needs to be boy-girl, boy-girl.”

“Where does that leave Cole?” Billy sneered

The class laughed, but Y/N wished she could punch him.

“Jane, go sit next to your dumb brother. Tilly, you're over there... and Anne, switch places with Charlie.”

Gilbert sat quietly in the circle, the one day he had decided to stay behind, they were playing spin the bottle. With Y/N and Ruby there. But, if Y/N and him kissed, Ruby couldn’t get mad.. right?

The first round, Diana and Moody kissed, and then Anne and Cole, and before he knew it, it was Gilbert’s turn.

Gilbert took a deep breath and slowly spun the bottle, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the h/c girl he so very loved... However, the odds weren’t on his side today. As he slowly looked up to see who the bottle landed on, he met Y/N’s eyes. Both of them immediately froze in place, Gilbert seeming more nervous than the other.

“What’s wrong, Blythe? Are you too scared to kiss your girlfriend in front of us? You embarrassed for having to date her? C’mon, don’t be too scared, she's not as bad as carrots.”

The whole class gasped, and Ruby looked over at Y/N.

“What he’s saying.. Isn’t true, right?”

“No, of course, it’s not true Ruby, you know I’d never hurt you-”

“She's lying,” Billy replies. “I saw them, meeting up, for weeks. They so desperately tried to hide from you.”

The short blonde girl’s eyes filled with tears. Never in a million years would she think that her best friend would betray her. Without thinking twice, Ruby ran out of the room.

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N runs after her, quickly catching up to Ruby, whos standing outside of the small school.

“Ruby...”

“Shut it Y/N! I can’t believe you were seeing Gilbert behind my back. All this time, I trusted you. I trusted that you wouldn’t talk to Gilbert, but you did. You knew that I liked him, yet you still went and stabbed me! Right in the back.”

She couldn’t even deny what Ruby was saying, because it was all true, and she felt terrible. Ruby and Y/N have been best friends since day 1, and when Ruby told the girls about her crush, Y/N wasn’t sure on what to say, because she knew she like Gilbert too. Seeing her best friend standing there, tear-stained cheeks, it killed her.

“Ruby. Please, let me explain.”

Ruby didn’t reply, as she tended to do when she was upset, but slightly looked over at the other girl, which was all she needed to start.

“I’ve always liked Gilbert, ever since I saw him. And I’ve always liked you. You were my first friend, and we’re the closest two friends in the group. So, when you told us that you liked Gilbert, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to be a good friend, so I tried convincing myself that I hated him. I tried not to think of him, or talk to him, or even look at him! But it turns out he liked me too, he had liked me for a while. So, I tried to meet up with him secretly, so I wouldn’t hurt you. I know I probably should have told you, and I know you probably don’t forgive me, which is perfectly fine, but I hope we can still be friends.” Y/N finished, almost breathless.

“Your right. I don’t know if I can forgive you this very moment. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to stop being your friend, but I really, really wish you told me sooner.” A small smile forms from Ruby’s lips after this statement, like she's about to say something else.

“What? what is it?”

“Is Gilbert a good kisser? I mean, I’m still mad but-”

The two burst out laughing.

“Honestly Y/N, I don’t think I could ever hate you, but it’ll take me time to stop being mad at you... I should go back inside though, everyone’s probably stopped the game.”

“Yeah.. we should.”

They head back into the back room, where everyone is staring at the door, waiting for them to come back in.

“Is your argument over already? Well, good. We’re still playing, and Gilbert still needs to kiss Y/N before we move on.”

“Well, what do you say Y/N?”

“I say we get it over with before Josie bursts into flames.”

Gilbert smiles and then puts his lips against hers, and to answer Ruby’s question, Gilbert Blythe is a good kisser.

[aomine-ryo]

Ahhhh I accidentally deleted your first ask @tilli-chan bc I’m a big dummy. I remembered the request though and I wrote it. I hope you like it!!

Scenario: Akashi’s s/o talking to his maids about him and his childhood

You were over at Akashi’s house one afternoon because you wanted him to help you prepare for an upcoming test. It was your first time visiting his house, even though you’ve been dating him for a few months. That was mainly because his father was usually home and Akashi didn’t want him to know about you. He knew that his father would only see you as a distraction and it would only make it harder for Akashi to be with you. However, his father was abroad on a business trip for a few days so you were finally able to visit the place Akashi grew up in.

You knew Akashi’s house would be big, but you were still taken aback when you actually saw it. As you walked past the well kept front lawn, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a small Akashi Seijuro running around on it without a care in the world. After ringing the doorbell, you patiently waited at the front door, looking around and admiring how lush your surroundings were. The door was soon opened by a kind eyed woman that wore a maid uniform, “You must be Mr Akashi’s guest,” she said with a smile as she opened the door wider to allow you some space, “please come in.”

You thanked her and you began to take your shoes off. As you set them aside, you noticed someone approaching you out of the corner of your eye. Looking up, you saw Akashi standing a few feet away from you with a gentle smile on his face. “Oh hey Seijuro,” you greeted.

“Hello my love,” he replied, placing a small kiss on your cheek as he walked with you into the lavish living room, equipped with high ceilings and a gorgeous fireplace.

“This is such a nice place,” you said, as Akashi led you into a separate room, which seemed to be a study. The room had two large bookshelves, filled with books from top to bottom. If you stared at it long enough, you’d think you were in a library.

Akashi pulled out one of the two chairs that were tucked into the large desk that stood in front of the window and looked at you, “Here take a seat, let’s get to work,” he said.

“But Seijuro, this is the first time I’ve ever come over. I thought I’d get to see your bedroom and maybe some baby photos,” you pouted, though you still sat down.

“I was planning on showing you that stuff after we were done.”

“You were planning on showing me your baby photos?” you questioned. You were expecting him to put up more of a fight about the photos, rather than suggest it himself.

“Well, no. But you seem to be interested in it, so so I don’t see why not,” he shrugged before taking his seat on the chair next to you.

You began to study with Akashi, though all you could think about was what his bedroom would look like and you couldn’t help but get excited. A few minutes into studying, Akashi excused himself to use the washroom, and you were left alone in the study. You heard a knock on the door, and when you turned around you saw a lady that wore the same uniform as the one who answered the door earlier. However, she seemed to look a bit older. “Hi, I have some tea for you. Where’s Mr Akashi?” she said, approaching the desk with a tray in hand.

“Oh he went to the washroom,” you informed.

She set the tray down on the desk and poured the tea into one of the cups before handing it to you. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you’re a very pretty girl,” she smiled at you. “Mr Akashi sometimes talks to us about you, you know? He really likes you.”

Hearing that made you get flustered as colour began to rise to your cheeks at the compliment, “Thank you! What’s Seijuro like at home?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“He isn’t home that much because he usually has basketball practice and he sometimes goes to ride his horse on his days off,” she told you, “but when he is home, he’s usually cooped up in his bedroom, practicing the violin or studying.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you giggled, “how long have you been working here?”

“I’ve been here since little Seijuro was born.”

“That must mean you have some good stories about him!” you said, unable to contain your excitement.

“Of course I do,” she said, her mind seemingly beginning to reminisce about the past. “But you’re busy, I shouldn’t distract you.”

“No, it’s fine. Tell me the funniest story you have,” you requested, looking at her with the widest eyes ever.

She took a minute to pick a story to tell you before finally deciding on one that brought a smile to her face. “Mr Akashi used to cling onto his mother a lot as a child and he always used to cry whenever she’d head off to work. So one day, he managed to sneak himself into her car and his mother didn’t even realise he was there until she took a wrong turn and he suddenly said, ‘mummy, isn’t your office the other way?’ His mother was so startled that she screamed and she had to pull over. He was still about 5 years old back then, so it was hilarious to his mother and I,” she explained, letting out a few small chuckles when you began to laugh.

“What was his mother like?” you asked her, wondering if she was any different from Akashi’s father.

“She was such a lovely woman,” the maid said to you, her expressions softening into something more sentimental, “I’m sure you know that his father is a strict man. However, his mother was quite the opposite; she brought warmth into every room she was in. She was such a kind spirit.”

Your heart began to ache for Akashi. It must have been so difficult to lose someone that was so uplifting and kind-hearted. “I wish I could’ve met her,” you said, your smile faltering as you took a sip of the tea.

“Well, I should get going,” she said softly.

“Actually, do you mind telling me a few more stories about Seijuro?” you said quickly.

“I don’t know—”

“What’s going on here?” Akashi’s voice suddenly cut her off, startling both of you as you looked over and saw him standing by the door frame.

“I was just asking her about what you were like as a child. I can’t believe you snuck into your mother’s car when you were five,” you said to him, noticing how he began to get a bit embarrassed.

“I was a child, you can’t blame me,” he said as he got back to his seat. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Oh, I’m done with these questions,” you said looking down at your completed work before enthusiastically turning back to the maid, “I want to hear more stories about Seijuro.”

The maid continued to tell you stories about his childhood. Like how once, he had to do a worksheet in kindergarten that involved getting a cat to a bowl of milk by solving the maze in between. However, he simply just drew a line around the maze, connecting the picture of the cat to the bowl. The teacher still ended up giving him a gold star for it. He also tried to teach basketball to his horse once, which you thought was the funniest thing you’ve heard in a while.

Despite the slight embarrassment from his end, Akashi didn’t stop her from telling you about his childhood. He thought it was sweet that you were so intrigued about him. Furthermore, he absolutely adored watching how your face lit up and listening to your giggles as the conversation continued.

Eventually, he had to intervene and stop the sharing because he wanted to get back to studying. At that point, you were well informed of dozens of stories that you didn’t object to getting back to your studies. You thanked the maid and turned back to your books.

“You were a very interesting child,” you chuckled as you began to write down some notes.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Of course!” You said almost immediately before looking at him with a cheeky grin on your face. “I bet those baby photos are adorable. I can’t wait to see them.”

“What’s adorable is how happy you are over these things,” he said, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he looked at your beaming expression.

“I just want to know more about the person I love, that’s all,” you said simply, getting slightly surprised when Akashi suddenly pressed his soft lips against yours. “What was that for?” you asked when he pulled away.

“Just for being so cute,” he said smoothly.

[ladyideal]

Valentine’s Day Drabbles

We all know what this day is all about. Lmao. While it shouldn't only be one day you should be appreciating your partner, let's do this anyways.

Star Trek:

AOS Crew: Jim, Scotty, Bones, scones x reader, mckirk x reader

Disco Crew (s2 only): Pike, Tilly

Almost Human: John Kennex

LOTR: Aragorn, Eomer, Legolas, Boromir, Haldir

The Boys: Billy Butcher, Hughie 

Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Dr. Strange, Steve Rogers (if you don’t mind me trying to write him), Stucky x reader

Rules:

Please reblog. 🙂 Share the love around.

It’s open to anyone and everyone, but it would be nice if you were following me.

I will allow anons this time. But please. One ask per person. If I get too many anon requests, I will reserve the right to write first come first serve.

Send in an ask with your prompt(s) and character/ships. If you want to suggest other characters on the list, just ask. 

If you would like a pet within the story, lemme know. I'll be forever grateful. Or if you want something specific, also put that in.

Last date to request for a drabble will be February 12th, 2021.

Mix and match, choose more than one prompt if you wish.

If you've got any questions, feel free to message me. 🙂 They’ll be all be posted on the 14th!

Prompts Below:

1. “Be mine until the end of time.”

2. “I’ve been hit with Cupid’s arrow.”

3. “Happy Valentine’s Day, from now until forever.”

4. “Only if you promise to be my valentine.”

5. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” “Um….. is that today?”

6. Preparing a special Valentine’s Day dinner together.

7. Trying to find the right words to write in a Valentine’s Day card

8. Making homemade chocolates for their beloved

9. Planning and proposing to their significant other on Valentine’s Day

10. Wearing brand new lingerie for a sexy evening together

11. Attending a Valentine’s Day party and finding an impromptu date

12. Your crush giving you advice for the night of Valentine’s Day when they think you already have another date

13. Being surprised by flowers and chocolate sent to your work from a secret admirer

14. Forgetting tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and frantically rushing out to find a last-minute gift.

15. Writing a secret love letter and leaving it on your crush’s desk

16. “Roses are red, violets are blue, all I want for this V-Day is to do you!”

17. Candy hearts

18. Roses

19. Blind date/set up by friends

20. Chocolates

21. Movie night

22. Late for a date

23. Wrong restaurant

24. Strangers alone on Valentine's day

25. Friend(s) date

26. Rained out picnic

27. Low on money/homemade date

28. Surprise date while working late

29. Forgot to get anything

30. Babysitter canceled/Family date night

31. Secret admirer/admitting a crush 

Situations:

32. Person A and Person B are friends and neither of them have a date for Valentine’s Day, so they decide to order takeout of some kind and watch a movie together. At some point, hidden feelings are revealed. 

33. “ Happy unimaginative, consumerist oriented and completely arbitrary, manipulative, and shallow interpretation of romance day.”

34. Person A has been in love with person B for years and is trying to work up the courage to ask them out on Valentine’s Day. 

35. Person A is friends with Person B and Person C and believes they belong together, so when Person A and Person B agree to set each other up on blind dates, Person A sets person B up with Person C.

36. “I know a Valentine’s Day proposal is cliche, but won’t it be romantic?”�� This Valentine’s Day is officially Pal-entine’s Day.” “ Isn’t that the emperor from Star Wars?”  

37. “I’m not good with feelings, but here goes nothing. My life sucks less with you in it.”

38. Person A plans the most romantic day ever, not realizing Person B hates Valentine’s Day. 

39. Valentine’s Day break up.

40. “ I don’t even want to hear about Valentine’s Day, okay? The love of my life is dead.” 

41. “This holiday is so pointless.”

42. “Do you maybe want to go to the Valentine’s dance with me??

43. Person A and Person B were going to have the most amazing date ever, but there was a snowstorm and now they’re stuck at home. 

44. “You still have your Christmas lights up? It’s February! Get your life together!”

45. Person A and Person B have to spend Valentine’s Day apart. 

46. “What? I do not like him/her/them! We’re just friends.”

47. “Wow, you suck at flirting.”

48. Person A is stood up for a date. Person B, who is secretly in love with them, does everything in their power to cheer them up. 

49. Quarantine Valentine’s Day. 

50. Person A and Person B debate which fictional couple they would be. And there was only one bed! 

51. Person A doesn’t know Person B and Person C are together, until Person C walks into Person B’s room on Valentine’s Day without knocking. 

52. Person A sets up a romantic scavenger hunt for Person B. 

53. Person A is late for a date with Person B. 

54. Person A accidentally buys Person B a gift they are allergic to. 

55. A carriage ride at sunset. 

56. “Hey, we should play spin the bottle!”

57. A date gone horribly wrong. 

58. “I need help picking an outfit for a date tonight.”

59. Person A and Person B make a bet. If Person B loses, they have to go on a date with Person A. 

60. Stargazing.

61. “I got a new dress. Do you like it?” “I’ll like it better when it’s on my floor.”

62. Medieval royalty romance AU

63. Person B is in love with Person A, who agreed to go out with Person C for Valentine’s Day. 

64. Romantic getaway.

65. Personalized candy hearts. 

66. Person A and Person B are on a date when they run into Person A’s ex.

67. Person A confesses their love to Person B, who does not return their feelings.

68. Person A and Person B decide to platonically go on a date. 

69. Everyone spends the whole day trying to get Person A and Person B together. 

70. Person A and Person B get into a situation in which they think they are going to die, so they pour their hearts out only to be rescued at the last minute. 

71. First Valentine’s Day as a married couple. 

72. Person A tries to prove they aren’t in love with Person B by setting Person B up on a date. 

73. A picnic in the park, but it’s snowing. 

74. Person A gives Person B a romantic gift and Person A vows to keep it forever. 

75. Caught cheating on Valentine’s Day. 

76. First kiss. 

77. “This has been terrible, but at least I’m with you.”

78. Person A has a surprise planned and Person B is dying to know what it is.

79. Person A and Person B are on a date and discover Person C and Person D have secretly been together for months. 

80.  Cupid’s arrow

81. Getting stood up on Valentine’s Day

82.  Watching the one you love on a date with another

83.  Pinky promise me forever

84.  Massages

85.  Open prompt

Credit prompts to @vv-writing-prompts​, @writing-prompts-list​, & @im-the-letter-t​

[vegetalass]

RDR2 Boys at an Amusement Park

For @viperfizz... Thank you for the suggestion, I loved writing this one!! 

Arthur 

An amusement park just means a county fair to him. Ain’t no way he’s going to Six Flags or Great America

Okay, that’s a lie, he’d probably go if you begged him to but he wouldn’t be much fun 

Total “buy a soda, sit down, and watch everyone else have all the fun” type of guy (but is that really fun?) 

You try to take a picture with one of those people in costume and he looks miserable 

That being said, he would have fun at a county fair! 

He likes that they have animal shows, local business booths, and simpler rides and games

He does his best to try everything but probably gets tired after a couple hours 

Spends most of his time after that in the petting zoo or trying all the free samples from food booths

The gang makes him hold all of their stuff… He didn’t win most of it, but he’s carrying around all of Sadie’s prizes, Tilly’s cotton candy bucket and Dutch’s jacket, as well as everything else 

Poor guy

S u n s e t  F e r r i s  W h e e l  P i c t u r e s 

John 

Gets stopped by security on the way in for something stupid like trying to hide a water bottle in his pants

Doesn’t care much for rides but will go on them just because he doesn’t want to waste his ticket 

He doesn’t mind the haunted house rides, though, despite usually having to go by himself or with Arthur

If he’s not on a ride, he’s walking around and nobody can ever find him 

Abigail makes him take Jack on all the kiddy rides and lowkey he’s not that mad about it because they’re actually pretty fun and it means he doesn’t have to bother with doing anything else

Jack is happy because John gets them a bunch of popcorn and fried food to share after, too 

Literally awful at all of the mini games 

Challenges Arthur to one of those High Striker strength tests and loses 

He’s problematic because he 100% would go to Seaworld

Any souvenir he buys is probably just candy

Definitely falls asleep on the way home

Charles 

Funnel cake and candy apple enthusiast 

If the park is crowded, he’s the only one who’s ever able to find a place to sit

Probably doesn’t go on many of the scary rides

He’s down for water rides and the pirate swing, though 

And laser tag if they have it

Can beat anyone’s ass at bumper cars 

If it’s Charles and Arthur against anyone, they better hope that they go easy 

Also probably pretty good at most of the mini games, too

He’s the one walking home with a giant plushie he got from playing Skee-Ball (Sadie and Karen have one, too) 

The only souvenir he buys is a keychain with his name on it 

The gang probably clowns him for it smh  

Everyone is too tired at the end of the day so he has to drive home

Honestly, just take him to a boardwalk where he can sit on the beach

Micah

A n n o y i n g 

Goes on the scariest ride just so he can brag about being fearless

Also probably buys one of those shirts that’s like “I Survived The Ass Crusher Roller Coaster” 

Will try to force you to go with him even if you cry 

His favorite type of ride are those old, wooden coasters just because they’re rickety and scary (like him) 

Big fan of the gross amusement park food because he’s nasty 

Likes all that stuff like fried Oreos, spiral potatoes, and Texas donuts. 

Scares kids… probably has to tell at least three different families he wasn’t trying to creep on them and that he’s at the park with his friends 

He’s being honest, but the whole gang is like “Uh, we don’t claim him”

Spends like an hour in the gift shop only to buy nothing

Almost gets left behind for it

Hosea 

Spends too much time looking at a map of the park and trying to plan out what everyone should do 

The gang’s all left by the time he’s finished thinking about it

His favorite amusement park snack is a chocolate-dipped, vanilla ice cream cone

Probably ends up eating like five of them over the course of one day 

His reasoning is that he’s “on vacation” 

Most likely to throw up if he goes on a ride that goes upside down

His amusement park outfit consists of a straw hat, Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and sandals

Lowkey everyone is embarrassed to be around him dressed like that 

Forgets his sunscreen and comes home burnt to a crisp 

And when it heals, he has a sandal tan 

Has to do a headcount both before and after they go to the park just to make sure he hasn’t lost anyone

“I’m Hosea” 

Dutch 

Did someone say carnival? No? Yes you did

Likes the merry-go-round and swing rides because he’s a child 

The only one to go on the wooden roller coasters with Micah

Honestly, actually the only one to go on rides with Micah 

Buys shitty cocktails from the one beach-theme stand at the park and thinks he’s classy for it (even though they’re just margaritas with crazy straws) 

Will buy a sweatshirt with the amusement park’s logo on it and wear it the entire time he’s there

It’s either that or a Hawaiian shirt with pineapples on it 

He also buys any and all photos of the gang on rides even if they’re $15 each

Probably the guy who wears his hat and sunglasses on Splash Mountain just to pose while Hosea, Arthur, and John are all screaming behind him

Makes a stranger take a photo of the group at the end of the day that doesn’t even fit everyone in the screen and ends up being blurry 

“If lost, return to Hosea” 

Kieran 

Amusement park TRASH 

He can and will have fun on anything

One second he’s on a ride with upside down turns and loops, and the next he’s on teacups, and then straight back to drop tower after that 

If the amusement park is large, he probably has a game plan of how to do the most in one single day

100% buys dippin’ dots, popcorn and an extra large, souvenir slushee cup with a bendy straw that he uses for the rest of the year

Goes nuts if there’s an arcade section and wins just about a million tickets

Probably doesn’t even cash them in for prizes either and gives them all away

If at Disney, he makes everyone stay for the parade

And yes, he’s wearing Mickey Mouse ears and a lanyard with pins on it 

Probably buys a snow globe as a souvenir 

Please go with him

Javier 

He’s the one who brings lunch from home just so he doesn’t have to buy expensive carnival food 

He ends up having to share most of it with the gang

Is the only one who can successfully sneak things past security

Catch him walking in with a sandwich, ten bottles of water, and an entire pack of granola bars

His favorite ride is always the gondola ride that takes you across the park in the air

He likes the drop tower, too

Like Dutch, he also poses for pictures on rides

The only one who isn’t embarrassed to take photos with the mascots

Arthur has about a thousand photos of him with a bunch of random characters

Also the only one who doesn’t forget sunscreen 

The gang has to beg him to share his 

He isn’t horrible at mini games, but he’s better at some of them than others

For example, terrible at the water gun squirting, but good at ring toss

He always gets at least one prize, even if it’s small

[marvelsdc22]

Into The Wild West Christmas Special

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I figured since I can’t give you guys the constant updates to this series like I should, I would bring you guys a christmas special!! This is one of the two big ones I have planned, this will be connected to the series in the future, so I hope you guys enjoy!! :)

Note: It’s Christmas time with the gang and while they don’t celebrate a lot of things, they make sure to go all out for Christmas time! What gifts does Y/N and Kara have planned to give to their crushes? Read to find out!

Word Count: 2335

Heading into Valentine with Arthur, you tugged your heavy coat on you just a little tighter “Why did Dutch send us here again?” You asked, looking at him and letting him lead the way “He couldn’t get away, wanted us to come and pick up some things for Christmas dinner” he said, glancing at you as you guys headed for the butcher “Wait Christmas?” You asked, you having lost track of the days as you dug in your pack for your journal where you had made a little calendar of sorts “Yes Christmas, Y/N” Arthur laughed, giving you a small shove before he stepped up to the butcher stand and started ordering what Dutch wanted him to get.

You furrowed your brow and looked around, you had been meaning to get something for Sadie but the days had gotten away from you, raising a brow when you spotted the gunsmith “Hey Arthur, I’ll be back” You promised him, touching his arm to make sure he was paying attention before you headed over to the gunsmith, barely stepping foot into the store when the owner greeted you “Hello there, little lady, what can I get for ya?” He asked, leaning on his hands on the counter and watching as you approached “What kind of pistols do you have?” You asked, looking at him and watching as he gave you a small smile before pushing the catalog in front of you “Take a look”.

After about ten minutes and about 300 dollars later, you carefully put the new LeMat Revolver in your pack, looking around and see Arthur struggling to carry all the items in his hands back to the wagon you guys arrived in, you taking off to catch up to him “Give me some of those, dummy” you scolded, taking some of the items from him to help lessen the load “So, what’d you get?” Arthur asked after the two of you split the items “None of your business” you said simply, giving him a smirk before you both headed for the wagon “We have one more stop to make” he said, knowing you were hiding something, but he wasn’t going to push the matter “Alright, lets get to it then” you said, hopping into the front of the wagon and taking the reins “I’m driving!” You said, barely giving him the chance to get settled in the front with you before you took off.

“Do we have everything?” You asked, loading the last bit of gifts into the wagon “We do, lets head back to the camp” Arthur said, dusting his hands off after tying down the items “I’m driving this time” Arthur said, causing you to pout as you got in the front of the wagon with him “Come on, I’m not that bad of a driver” you said, looking at him and sighing and rolling your eyes when he gave you a look “It was one tree!” You pouted, crossing your arms and ignoring his laugh as he had the horses move forward.

Once you guys got back to camp and got everything unloaded, you looked around and saw Kara and Lena talking with Alex and Maggie, digging in your pack, you pulled out the four gifts that you had gotten them, walking over to their small group “Hey guys… I got you guys something” you said, handing them their gifts and watching as they raised an eyebrow at you “What is it?” Kara finally asked, giving you a confused look and you smiled “Pull them” you said, watching as they all did and a decent sized dagger appeared from the sleeves “Those can be the difference between life or death in sticky situations” you said, watching as they looked at them, each of them having different designs and colors depending on each of them “Thank you… We don’t have anything for you though-“ Alex said, getting caught off by you waving a hand “Don’t worry about it, you guys are one of us now” you said, looking at them and shoving your hands in your pockets “I’ll see you guys for dinner tonight, Merry Christmas” you said, heading off towards your spot and hearing them say it back.

xxxxxx

Kara watched as you headed off and grabbed Sid before you rode off into the woods, knowing you were going to your spot then she looked at the others “We should get her something… She’s done so much for us here” she said, looking over when Maggie spoke up “But what could we get her? We don’t know this world very well” she pointed out, which was a good point since they all had only dropped in a month ago and there was still so much more to see “Lets head into town and split up there” Kara suggested, standing up and dusting herself off, all of them heading for their horses before they took off for Valentine.

After a bit, they arrived at Valentine and hopped off their horses before tying them up “Alright, split up and come back here once you’re done” Lena said, looking at the other three before everyone split up, Kara heading for the clothing store and looking around “Can I help ya?” The owner asked, watching as Kara looked at him and gave him a smile “I was just looking, can I see that?” She asked, pointing at the catalogue and thanking him when he pushed it in front of her, looking through it and stopping when she saw this silver necklace with an emerald pendant in the middle of it “How much for this?” She asked, pointing to the necklace and watching as the owner smiled.

Heading out of the store, Kara secured the necklace in the front pocket of her pack before returning to the horses “Did you find anything?” She asked, looking at Lena, who was petting her horse and watching as she turned to face her “I found some boots that could work, hers are a little rundown” Lena said, looking at Kara “You?” She asked, brushing her hair behind her ear and Kara, unable to help herself as she stared at the movement “No, nothing… Boots work” she stuttered out when she realized she had been staring for too long, Lena was going to be the death of her one of these days.

xxxxx

Sitting down by the river and leaning back against a large rock while you let Sid graze behind you, you pulled out the revolver and ran your thumb along the solid black handle before you reached into your pack for your stuff, pulling out a needle that you had stolen from Tilly, she wouldn’t miss it in the time that you needed it for, setting the revolver on your leg before you set to work, sketching out an intricate design on the handle and being sure to add in Sadie’s initials to it, your tongue sticking out slightly as you worked on the design.

xxxxx

After they bought the boots, they headed back to the camp, seeing everyone running around trying to get everything together for the dinner “Need any help?” Kara asked, looking at Mary-Beth, who gave her a smile “Yes please, help me put these up” she said, handing Kara some tinsel to put around the camp “You got it” Kara said, giving her a smile before she headed off to hang some of it on trees and tents around the camp.

“How’s the decorating going?” Lena asked, causing Kara to jump and nearly fall from the tree she had climbed “Well besides the heart attack you just gave me, it’s going fine” she said, looking to make sure no one was looking before she flew down and landed in front of Lena “So sorry” Lena said teasingly, reaching over and pushing the snow that had landed on Kara’s coat off of her “Sure you are… Everything going well with making the dinner?” She asked, looking at Lena and shoving her hands in her pockets, hoping that Lena wouldn’t notice the blush on her face “Oh, I’m in charge of the drinks, we have a fine selection of beer, whiskey, and rum” Lena said, looking at her and about to say something else when Dutch hollered for everyone to meet at his tent.

xxxxx

Getting back to camp, you heard Dutch calling for everyone to meet at his tent, you staring in awe at the camp since you guys never really celebrated anything, but Christmas was one of the ones that Dutch went all out for, hopping off Sid and tying him up before you headed up to the small crowd, standing behind Sadie and Tilly as you listened to what Dutch had to say.

“Now, I know that things have been a little difficult for us this year… But, we’re going to get through all of this together, I don’t want to hear anything about work or any heists or anything like that today… Today is for us to celebrate our family, the old ones-” he said, gesturing to Hosea “The new ones-” gesturing to Kara and them “The young ones-“ gesturing to Jack “And the forever loyal ones-“ gesturing to you, Arthur, and John “Without all of us, we wouldn’t be the family we are… Now, lets dig in and have a good time tonight” he said, causing everyone to cheer before everyone went to grab food and drinks.

After a few hours, you steeled yourself and approached Sadie “Hey, can we take a walk?” You asked, looking at her and watching as her and Mary-Beth shared a look you’d never seen before Sadie set her beer down and nodded, following you a little ways until you found yourselves over by the cliff on the edge of camp “I got you something” you said, digging in your pack and pulling out the revolver you had gotten her “Merry Christmas” you said, handing it to her and watching as she looked the weapon over, running her fingers over the pattern on the handle “How’d you get this pattern?” She asked, able to see it in the moonlight.

“I did it myself” you said, biting your lip and watching as she looked at you in shock “You did this?” She asked, looking at the weapon once more “Yeah, I thought that you’d appreciate the revolver and that you would like your own design on it-“ you rambled, getting interrupted by her engulfing you in a hug “Thank you, this is an amazing gift” she said softly, pulling back and kissing your cheek before she dug in the pocket of the apron she had on, placing something in your hand before she escaped back to the party, you looking at what she had given you and seeing it was a very crudely made bracelet, but you loved it since you knew she made it, knowing it wouldn’t fit your wrist, so you instead went over to Sid and tied it to his saddle, you would forever treasure this.

xxxxx

Kara watched as everyone split up into partners for dancing, watching as Alex and Maggie slow danced together with Dutch and Molly and Arthur and Mary-Beth “Can I have this dance?” She heard someone ask, looking up and seeing Lena standing there in her large black coat and her long black hair pulled back in a braid, her black cowboy hat off “Sure” Kara said, smiling some and taking her hand, letting Lena lead her to the ‘dance floor’ before resting her hands on her waist while Lena’s were wrapped around her neck.

“Are you doing okay?” Kara asked softly after a few silent moments, having not checked up on her in a few days so she wanted to make sure she was doing okay “Yeah, still trying to find out how to get out of here, are you doing okay?” Lena asked, looking up at Kara since she had slight height advantage on her “Yeah, I’m okay” she assured, giving her a small smile before biting her lip “I have something for you” she said, pulling back slightly and taking her hand, pulling her away from the crowd.

“I saw this earlier and… I wanted you to have it” Kara said, digging through the front pocket of her pack and pulling the necklace out, holding it in front of her and watching as Lena stared at it in shock “Kara… It’s beautiful” she said, running her finger along the emerald gem before turning away from her “Put it on me?” She asked, placing her hand on the pendant when Kara put the necklace on her “Thank you, I love it” she said, turning to look at Kara before she dug in her coat pocket and held a small box out to Kara “I got you something too”.

Kara smiled and took the small box, going and sitting down on a log nearby, Lena following suit and sitting down next to her “You didn’t have to get me anything” Kara said, looking at Lena and laughing when she nudged her “Just open the damn box” she chuckled, watching as Kara opened the box and smiled, pulling out the small brooch that was in the box, it being a jeweled butterfly, blue and red “I love it, thank you” she said, smiling at Lena and pinning it to her pack before the two of them looked up at the stars “If there’s one thing that I love here, it’s that you can see the stars” she said, smiling some and tensing up when she felt Lena rest her head on her shoulder “Me too, makes me wish we didn’t live in a big city” she said, snuggling into Kara’s side and smiling when Kara finally wrapped an arm around her “Merry Christmas, Kara” she said softly, smiling as she looked at her “Merry Christmas, Lena” Kara said, giving her a smile before they went back to looking at the stars which seemed to be even brighter that night.

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[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x OC} Chapter 12

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Mentions on injury and assault  ..... Chapter 12

I woke to blinding light. Disorientated and panic building as my mind is slow to catch up with where I could be right now. I’m still in the cabin. I can hear the men outside talking amongst themselves, unaware that I’m awake again. I push myself up noticing my hands and legs are free, ignoring the overall ache and searing pain running down my chest. I need to get out. This is my chance. If I could -

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” A feminine voice calls out beside me, gently placing their hand on my shoulder. I look over, glad that my eyes are starting to focus to see Tilly, in her beloved yellow dress. Please don’t be a dream.

“Tilly?” I squeak, my voice sounding harsher than it ever has.

“You’re safe. Here,” She passes over a flask of water. The liquid soothing my throat and easing the pounding in my head. Drinking the whole thing before passing it back, murmuring my thanks.

“I’ll go tell Arthur and Miss Grimshaw that you’re awake.” She says before leaving the tent, the covers over the entrance letting in more daylight, causing the back of my eyes to sting slightly before they closed behind her. I’m not even in my tent, not in my bedroll. I’m in Arthurs tent. Once again waking up here after passing out. I really need to make sure that doesn’t become a habit of mine. Trying to think, all I can remember was being carried out of that cabin, but I can’t even remember reaching the door. I didn't even get to see the aftermath of Johns and Arthurs handiwork. Those mens bodies spewed across the grass. Shame.

I can’t help but scoff at that thought. If my mother could hear my thoughts on how I wished to see the corpses of the men that harmed me she would turn in her grave for sure. But my brothers would be proud.

The tent flaps opened again, the sting more bearable, as Miss Grimshaw and Arthur made their way in, the former holding a small medicine bottle and some whiskey.

“How are you feeling dear?” Miss Grimshaw asks in a soothing tone I'd only heard before when I first arrived here. A serious case of Déjà vu happening.

“Like shit. I’m guessing I look it too.” I hum out a quiet laugh.

“Got you a tonic to fight any infection. And some whiskey for the pain,” She said as she placed the two bottles on the crate next to the cot. “I’ll get Pearson to whip something up for you. Then I’ll be back later to change your dressings.” I called out my thanks to her as she left, leaving just the two of us. Arthur pulled up a chair to sit beside me, picking up the whiskey as he did.

“Than-”

“I’m s-”

We both spoke at the same time, causing us to huff out a laugh. He gestured for me to go first.

“Thank you for coming for me,” I said, he looked down to the floor, his hat covering most of his face from view.

“Belle, m’ sorry we didn’t get there earlier. Me, John and Charles tried to-”

“You got there just in time. Before they…” I couldn’t even finish. But I didn't have to, the look on his face told me he knew. He saw the state I was in, the other guys’ intentions were very obvious with his pants halfway down. Thankful now that I wasn’t that far exposed but in the process of stabbing the bastard it was the last thing on my mind. My hand went down my chest as I slowly tried to sit up, feeling the layers of cloth that wrapped around my shoulder and waist then across my back through the clothing, which I also just realised are not mine. Arthur stood to help me sit, leaning me against the crates behind me. Sitting back down and handing me the now opened bottle of whiskey, drinking as he continued.

“Miss Grimshaw stitched ya up. Said it would probably scar.” I nodded and took a drink, feeling it burn as it passed down my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the tent opening being pulled back, Dutch now making his way in, his eyes on me.

“Did you talk?” No hello, no how are you feeling...just did I talk? Talk about what exactly?

“Dutch, she's just come round-” Dutch held his hand up to halt Arthur, his eyes still trained on me.

“I need to know. Did. You. Talk?”

“Talk about what?”

“Did you tell them where we are?”

“They didn’t ask anything about you.” I looked between the two men, completely confused as to what he as asking.

“Really?”

“Dutch-”

“I told you. They never mentioned you or camp or anyone here. I don’t even know who those men were.”

“The safety of this gang depends on if you gave away any information to those men. I surely hope you are not lying to me, Mrs Hawthorne.” He spoke slowly and low as if I were a disobedient child that needed to understand every word he said. A quiet threat heard loud and clear.

“I didn’t say a word. They only cared about me. If they are a threat to you all, they never made it known.” I replied back in the same slow tone he gave to me, making sure he understood every word I said. I’ve been here for weeks, over 2 months, making myself at home and seeing the others here as a family, my new family. And he thinks I would sabotage the one thing that makes me feel safe? Sure, torture is a good way of getting people to speak, but Dutch doesn’t seem to realise id rather die than be alone, or back with him.

With that another person emerges from the outside, Hosea, he must have heard the raised voices. I was on the verge of tears knowing Dutch probably doesn’t believe me, in a way I understand the concern, but I was in pain and the constant dull ache in my head was now throbbing. Hosea took one look at us all and motioned Dutch out of the tent, telling him to let me heal and to ask questions later. Dutch left without another word, practically stormed out. Hosea was about to speak but I cut in. “I promise I never said anything, I don’t even think they knew I’m with you all.” Hosea put his hand up to me to stop. Before Hosea could speak a word, Arthur sat forwards, taking my hand in his, stilling my clenching fist in the hopes I would relax.

“I believe you, Bella. Charles and me saw a missing poster of you in Rhodes station. $500 reward. Those guys that took you, they were some of the O’Driscolls. We have a history with them, all bad business.”

“Did the poster mention being able to do whatever they wanted with me but to leave my face untouched?”

“No…”

“Then...I don’t think it was the poster that led them to me. Frank asked them himself.” Arthur and Hosea shared a look of disbelief as I cried. Knocking back more whiskey to numb as much of the pain as possible. The realisation of what happened hitting me like a damn train. Hosea promised he would talk to Dutch, try and calm him down, and that if I needed anything to not hesitate to ask.

Arthur stayed with me till nightfall. Answering whatever questions I had about this rival gang and the very colourful history they have with them, especially the leader, Colm. We talked about anything else that didn't involve the O’Driscolls or what had happened the day before after that. I asked about the photographs he had pinned to the side of the wagon and the two in frames propped up. He spoke fondly about his mother, Beatrice, who passed when he was only a boy. And his dog, Cooper. He even admitted he would bathe with him sometimes. I couldn’t stop laughing, causing him to flush with embarrassment. I assured him it was sweet. He didn’t seem to have many kind words when it came to his father, Lyle. Saying he was a no-good man that didn’t die soon enough. When speaking about Mary, a beautiful woman from what I could see from the photograph, I couldn’t help but notice him hesitate when speaking about her. But I could sense the fondness he still felt for her, a young love like that always holds a special place in your heart. I felt a tang of jealousy. Not because of her, but because I didn't get the chance to feel love like they once did. To have someone you love, love you back just the same despite any differences. It was a shame it didn’t work out for them, some of those differences becoming the wedge that drove them apart. He only left me when Miss Grimshaw came along to change my dressings, to get us both some supper and another bottle of whiskey after we polished off the last one together.

The alcohol did help with the ache, replacing it with a slight buzz but not without slight weariness, but I knew drinking anymore would be asking my headache not to leave. The sun was far beyond the horizon now, the moon firmly replacing it. Now slouched on the cot and Arthur splayed out on the chair with one foot perched on the cot beside my hip. A yawn made my tiredness become more apparent, soon I'll be fighting to keep my eyes open. After a few moments of silence, listening to the nocturnal birds fly overhead, realising everyone else must have gone to sleep, Arthur stood, motioning to the tonic that I had neglected in favour of the whiskey, telling me to drink up before I fell asleep.

“I can go to my tent. Don’t want to hog your bed again.” I said, another yawn making its way out of me.

“Nah it’s alright. Not gunna kick an injured lady out've a more comfy bed.” he looked down at me, his mouth turning up into a small smile.

“Where will you sleep?”

“I got my bedroll out there, I’ll sleep where I drop.”

“I'll feel bad if you have to sleep out there when I’m in here,” He just looked at me, expecting a fight to stop me from sleeping somewhere a little less comfortable no doubt. “Might as well sleep here.” His eyebrows raised at that and it took me a moment to realise what he must have thought I was suggesting. “Oh, no, I mean you might as well bring your bedroll in here. At least then you will have a cover over your head.”

His face relaxed at my explanation, giving off a half-smirk and looking back down at the ground, stroking the back of this neck that I noticed he does when nervous or uncomfortable. Lord, it is cute when he does that. Finally, he nodded, giving in with a quiet, sure.

He returned within seconds with his bedroll, which must have been nearby, and laid it out on the floor. Kicking off his boots and draping a worn blanket over him. I did the same, both of us now staring up at the canvas with our hands resting behind our heads. Sleep slowly taking over me.

“Goodnight, Arthur. Thank you again.” I spoke softly.

“Goodnight, Bella” he replied, just as soft as i.

-

It was barely daybreak when I woke up. The birds singing their morning song all around, a call to breakfast and a new day with new possibilities. My head still had a lingering pulse, not sure if it was from last night whiskey or finally getting over the multiple blows I received. Either way, coffee could fix it.

I took my time getting on my feet, my body still aching lightly and to not wake Arthur, who was curled up on the floor facing me, his arm propping up his head as a pillow. I made my way out of the tent to be greeted by stunning orange hues illuminating the camp and Flat Iron Lake. I made my way to the campfire to brew a fresh batch, adding wood to the dying fire as I waited. I grabbed two tin cups, waiting for the coffee to emit its awakening aroma before pouring. Even just the smell was helping my head ease off a bit. I sat with my coffee, blowing on it absentmindedly, my eyes lost in the fire as my mind flashed, replaying what happened not two days ago. It wasn't the first time to be taken against my will in that way, although I'm thankful it didn't get that far. But just knowing that Frank gave his permission for my captors to do whatever they wanted with me and to be paid handsomely for it along with my return made a feeling burn within me that I have never felt before. Pure rage. Staying in camp would be the safest thing I can do now, Frank won’t give up. No doubt I would go insane. Maybe I could change my appearance somehow so I could venture out from time to time.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as Arthur sat down beside me on the log. I never even heard him approach me I was so lost within my mind.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as I handed him his cup of coffee, still piping hot.

“I'm gonna kill Frank,” I said matter-of-factly, turning to face him. The look of bewilderment on his face made me huff out a laugh.

[imaginesforallkindoflove]

Not me writing this in one hour and it is past one am now.

Anyway enjoy a mythical fix it fic with Arthur Morgan and my self insert. It is only platonic feelings yall, and Arthur lives :) sorry for any mistakes i wrote this without glasses on my phone and very late at night. Maybe I should sleep??

Arthur didn't know how he escaped death.

He was doomed. He had known since he started to cough, and the doctor he saw in Saint Denis confirmed that. He was sure he was done for. When Micah left him to die on that mountain, when he started to make his way with intense difficultly toward the edge, feeling the warm sun welcoming him, as if God or any higher being was there with open arms, forgetting him. He remembered how he closed his eyes, clutching at his hat and snatchel. He had forgotten to give someone something to remember him by. But... somehow he was happy with that: he will be faded into history. No one will remember him. Maybe that photographer, Albert Mason... or that widow, Miss Balfour... Or that strange and French painter...

French... Like the little maid they picked up from the burning Braithwaite mansion. Hosea took her out with him, arguing with Dutch and some others -mainly John who told him she deserved to die for being with the people who kidnapped his son- as she was just some girl servant trying to survive. The old man cared for that little maid, he really seemed to be fond of her. She was so shy and quiet, so frightened by that new life and by them. Sometimes he watched her, making sure no one was bullying the poor girl. She made fiends with Kieran and Sean... Molly even liked the girl more, doing her hair and being like... a mother figure of some sorts. All her friends were dead when he thought about it.

Arthur entered her life pretty late, but he defended her from Micah, that rat. The way the man was staring at her was disgusting and he knew he had to step in. After that event, she stayed with him when he was around the camp. Calling him words in her language he didn't understand... She was a breath of something new, of love, of... renaissance and redemption, a gift perhaps for him. Arthur had lost his son a long time ago but he found in that girl a little figure of a daughter. He took her fishing and hunting and riding... He took her to Saint Denis and bought her a fancy dress for the hell of it. He taught her how to ride a horse. He had taught her a lot of things...

He hoped she had made it out.

She never had commit a crime. If Milton or one of his agents laid a hand on her, he swore to whatever was hearing him that he would haunt them.

She didn't deserve to die, unlike him.

However, to his surprise, he opened his eyes and breathed deeply.

His lungs...they felt free of anything blocking them. They didn't feel like a burning fire ravaging a forest. He could breathe normally, without coughing himself to blood. He was still very thin and pale but... he was alive. A voice was speaking a few meters away from him. He knew that strange voice full of slangs he didn't know of... Who was it?

He eventually found the strength to stand up, walking with wobbly legs toward the voice. The person seemed to tell jokes or funny stories, because a second voice laughed and chuckled. Oh god, he knew that voice too. He reached a door and opened it, stumbling on the ground.

"Arthur!"

It was her. She was alive. She was alive. That little maid had run off to him and hugged the poor man hard, he moaned in pain and she released him with a pained look on her face. His hands travelled to her face and he caressed her cheeks lovingly, just like a father would do.

Her brown hair was neatly tied up like Molly had taught her, she was wearing the dress he had bought that day in Saint Denis and she... she looked so joyful and so relieved to watch him breathe.

"Na... Naomie..." He finally said, a smile creeping on his face.

"I thought you would die!" She exclaimed, tears streaming down her face quietly.

"I am not... I don't know... What happened?"

"Well... it was the least I could do to thank you mister Morgan."

Behind her was again a strange and unknown man he had helped a few months ago. He didn’t remember his name clearly, but the man had tasked him to find rock carvings and the ending was like a dark fairytale. He didn’t question it, because he felt like an idiot. The man with the birthmark smiled warmly at him.

"Glad that young and elegant miss found me on time. Actually... I had a bad feeling about you mister. I decided to... visit when I encountered poor little Naomie crying and riding while clutching your body for dear life. Luckily for you, I had medicine to treat your illness and we cared for you while you were delirious." He explained proudly.

"He is fantastic!" The girl exclaimed.

"Yeah yeah... I am sorry but I forgot your name-"

"Francis Sinclair."

"Right. Thank you mister Sinclair..."

"I will leave you two to your found happiness. Don't forget to leave in a week or two or else the law will catch you both and I am afraid I won’t be here to save you this time if it happened." Francis Sinclair stated before bowing and taking his leave. "Mister Morgan, this is a thank you for helping me." He declared before disappearing again.

Arthur sat down to write in his journal, then would sleep for hours and ate a lot over the days. He felt much better but the words of Sinclair was still fresh in his head: they had to leave soon. He looked in his snatchel and found all of his money. A few dollars were missing tho but he didn't care.

Naomie entered the little home they shared and unlike any other day, Arthur decided to ask her about what happened after he left the camp for the last robbery with the gang. The young woman sighed deeply, seeming embarrassed.

"I would rather not speak about it."

"I want you to tell me what happened. I need to know. I have the right to. I was dying then I came back to life. Naomie, please." He begged.

"Dutch had two keys for the money box. I... stole his, that one poor miss Grimshaw was keeping. I took the box and hide it somewhere. Then, Pinkertons came and they took Abigail. Tilly and Jack escaped and Miss Grimshaw was nowhere in sight." She started. "So... I felt like it was time for me to leave. I took the box and ran as fast as I could. I came across a barn and I remembered that you had a horse stored there... I lied that you were my father and the man believed me."

"You took Alexander out? That big horse?" Arthur asked, impressed.

"Yes." She nodded. "I found mister Sinclair next. He led me here and I hide the money again. Then he suggested I go looking for you and I did! Something... Animals were on the road, waiting for me. I think it was a coyote and a stag... they led me to you. You were still breathing and no soldier was present so I took your body and ride as fast as Alexander could." She stopped to take a breathe. "Then, I brought you back here. Mister Sinclair gave you some medicine and you felt much better immediately!"

"You saved me." The man breathed out. "You saved me."

"I would have been so lost without you... you are like... like a father to me." She looked at him. "And I have lost so much people in my life. I couldn't afford to lose someone else."

"You... You did good. So good. Come here." He took her in his arms and she looked so small compared to him. Then he released her and started to become serious. "Francis Sinclair is right. We should pack it up, and go somewhere else. Somewhere where no one will find us. And not an island. I was thinking... California?" He suggested, suddenly reminding of the doctor's words. "With this money, we will be able to have a good life. I will find a job... maybe as a deputy or some shit and you... you will have a good education. I will make sure of it."

"Really?" She sounded so excited.

"Or maybe Canada? Maybe we will find Charles and the natives... I hope so." He mumbled.

As he started packing Alexander outside, Arthur saw something strange. He stopped what he was doing. It felt so... dream like.

A stag and a coyote were present, watching intensely. The coyote was siting, its black fur not matching with the golden ray of the sun but its piercing eyes were staring inside the former gunslinger's soul deeply. Meanwhile, the stag was magnificent, dominating the forest with its giant antlers and stood tall, looking at the man too, and he seemed to approve his new life.

Slowly, Arthur tipped his hat off to them, and he didn’t have any peculiar reasons to do that. But... he wanted to thank them. For some reasons.

Arthur Morgan was redeemed. He had acquired his redemption and was reborn through his ashes.

*Many years later...*

They didn't feel like they aged a lot. But here they were, settled in California for many years. It was the end of the first wold war, and Arthur Morgan didn't participate in it, as he didn't fill any of the requirements for the US army. He was glad he didn't go to war, or else Naomie would have been left alone and he would have hated that.

However, he cared for the young and old soldiers. Some came back disfigured, scared by endless fights and traumatic experiences. He tried everything he could to help them, and even invited other rich people to do the same. He worked in the police now, and was a respectable deputy chief. Soemtimes, he laughed at his condition. When they arrived, he still was doing some bounty hunts then a deputy offered him to take a place and here he was.

He entered the home he shared with his now legally adopted daughter, with a smile on his face. He hung his coat himself, as maids and other servants were hurrying to prepare dinner and doing all kind of chores. He paid them well and was kind to them. Hosea would have done the same, he thought.

Some years after they settled in, Arthur Morgan was able to contact most of the people he helped, even Mickey the fake war veteran who died three years ago. He helped him, finding him a simple job and home. Charlotte was well too, a little old by now but she had nephews and nieces as well as grand nephews and grand nieces to take care of. Albert Mason reached to him first, inviting him to his new exposition whereas Charles Châtenay came back one day, knocking on Arthur's door.

He didn’t had contact with any of the old gang members, except maybe Mary Beth. He would buy her books and read them avidly, feeling proud on how far she had come. One time, he even had tears when she wrote a serie about them. The characters looked and thought as them, and he felt proud again. He grinned when he thought about that brave captain Monroe who would sometimes visit them. He had found a wife and had children on his own. Also, they would often tour in those states to visit the graves of their fallen members as well as the native son of that chief. Arthur felt the need to see them every two years. He didn’t want to forget about them and would write any new memory in his diaries.

They didn't age, he quickly noted. They both stayed in the state Francis Sinclair found them. Perhaps that mad man gave them something, but he was glad it was not toxic or anything.

Naomie was a good student, scoring high in female universities but couldn't access to more as she looked too young for anything and was a woman. That was the only downside, he believed. She was mad of course, but with time, she seemed to be more interested in so many things and began to write numerous essays and books under a male name.

They were comfortable. They were safe. No one was asking about their shady past. He hoped John and his family were still alive as well as Karen, Tilly and Charles. He missed Charles a lot. However... He hoped Dutch was feeling miserable, as miserable as himself was when he thought he was dying that evening.

One day, a man working for him came finding Arthur in his office, saying a young black haired man was searching for him.

"What is his name again?" Despite being high in society, Arthur stayed the same.

"He said: "Lancelot Milton". A rubbish name if you ask me sir. Do you want me to do anything about it?"

"I swear if this is another man asking for my daughter's hand, I will put a bullet through his skull." The man spoke as he went to see who send for him.

He opened the door and saw a man tending to a beautiful horse. He was wearing a familiar hat, Arthur thought, and from the back, the strange man reminded him of someone he knew but the memories were blurry. He cleared his throat and the stranger turned. Then the older man knew and it took his breath away. The eyes, the face, the hair...

"Hello, my name is Jack Marston. I believe you knew my father?"

[emily-strange]

Second Chances

Sooo I’ve already had some sh*t from people about how I’m portraying Abigail. I won’t be sharing those responses because as I’ve said before, this won’t be a ‘lets bag on Abigail story’ all the way through but at the end of the day, it is a John x Reader fic so….

Sadly I lost a family member recently in a tragic accident and along with lockdown, I’ve been pretty down in the dumps and avoiding tumblr. I’ve started to write again so I hope you enjoy this short chapter to get me going.

Always open to constructive criticism :)

Tagging @porkchop-ao3​ @redeadepression and @lucacangettathisasss who asked but if you’d like me to stop let me know :)

For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!

Summary: You’re Sadie Adler’s 18 year old daughter who was visiting when the O’Driscoll’s attack. How will you cope with gang life and your increasing feelings for someone who, on the surface, isn’t up for grabs?

Pairing: John Marston x female reader

Warnings: None.

Chapter 3

You’re trying. You’re really trying.

But so far, other than her obvious love for her son, there just isn’t anything you like about Abigail.

For example, you overheard a conversation between her and Dutch earlier where she complained that Jack was never left enough food after everyone took their share. That alone wasn’t the issue. The problem you had was that when Dutch suggested the solution of John taking less, she made no argument.

From what you’ve seen, John takes the tiniest amount of food as it is.

You’d noticed it when you’d gone to get some from you and your mother the other night. He made it to the pot just before you and in his usual John awkwardness, asked if you wanted to go first. You smiled and shook your head and he took one spoon full.

The sad look on his face was enough to break your heart. He was so gaunt.

“Surely you’re hungrier than that John” you’d laughed while filling your bowls.

He’d given a small little shrug with a humourless huff before walking to join some of the men around the campfire.

You’d watched as he’d tried to make the food stretch. Taking tiny bits at a time and making sure to collect everything left in the bowl with his finger.

So yes, that along with her constant coddling of your mother was enough to make you bristle every time she was near.

It’d been a week since your chat with John at the cliffs edge and you’d decided to stay in camp to try and help your mother a bit more. And to get Abigail off your ass. You’re glad your mother has a friend but it is starting to grate on you.

Thankfully your mother has seemed to notice your annoyance and had thanked you for making the money you had out of camp. She’s always been intuitive your mother.

So currently you’re sat washing clothes with Tilly and Mary-Beth watching Jack poke and play with the campfire.

“Can I ask you girls something?” you say quietly, drawing the others attention.

“Go right ahead” Tilly answers.

You stop for a moment wipe the sweat from your brow, still looking at Jack.

“Do you….I mean….is….” you fumble for the right words, not wanting to cause any offence or potential dislike. Dislike for you that is.

“Just ask,” Mary-Beth says following your line of sight, “we won’t tell anyone.”

You look to both women and see how they’re smirking.

“Does Jack look like John to you?” you say bluntly.

Both women look to each other and Tilly gestures with her hand for Mary-Beth to continue.

“Well, frankly, no. He don’t.” she then lent in and whispered, “I’ve always thought he looked like Dutch to be honest.”

Tilly started laughing, “Oh he does not. I don’t see no one but Abigail in that boy.”

“But he has to have a father.” You say seriously and catch sight of John talking with Arthur at the edge of camp. Tilly brings your attention back.

“Look,” she starts, taking a deep breath, “I love Abigail. We all do. She’s a good mother and a hard worker. We all had to do things once upon a time to keep ourselves goin’ and I fer one think no less of her for that.”

You nod along because you don’t either. You really don’t. You know you were lucky to grow up how you did. A loving mother and father with a roof over your head. Never an empty belly or a mean word said.

You’d never judge anyone for doing what they do to survive.

“But to answer the question you ain’t actually asked. No. John ain’t that boys father.” Tilly states before Mary-Beth gasps her name, “Oh Mary-Beth please. We all know it just no one wants to say it. You think Jack looks like Dutch of all people!”

“Then why say it’s John?” you ask feeling a little silly as Tilly rolls her eyes teasingly.

“What was she supposed to do? Tell Dutch she’s pregnant but she don’t know who the father is?” Tilly asks knowing you wouldn’t have an answer, “She was still workin’ when she found out. But was also kinda seein’ John. He didn’t mind….”

“They was always kinda……explosive” Mary-Beth jumps in emphasising her words with hand gestures.

“Exactly.” Tilly continues, “But, that’s who I think Jack’s real pa is. One of them clients.”

You nod then shake your head, remembering your previous point, “But that doesn’t explain John…”

“She was workin’ and sometimes seein’ John. So…..he was the only real option” Tilly finishes and starts washing again when she spots Mrs Grimshaw across from camp. She tips her head in the same direction to silently tell you both to start working again.

You work in silence for a few minutes when Mary-Beth says quietly, “She does love John though….in her own way.”

You nod and carry on scrubbing when you spot Abigail storm up to John after Arthur leaves. You can tell she’s quietly shouting at him and he just looks so defeated. Suddenly she pulls her arm back and swings, colliding with his face in an echoing slap.

“Yeah” you say lowly, “In her own way."

[dontworrysunflower]

I’ll Be Home for Christmas | v. (final)

welp...this is the end. i know it’s like way way WAY too late to post anything christmas themed but i wanted to get this done so i could work on some other things (which is a lot). anyways, thanks for sticking around and hope this is okay, it was kind of rushed and i would think of something and then completely forget about it the next second so i might be suffering for short term memory loss?? but anyways enjoy! OH ALSO i accidentally deleted one of my old fics so imma have to rewrite it so look out for an updated ‘First Date’ fic!

Warnings: horrible rushed writing, angst, tears

Word Count: almost 2.2k

Enjoy! previous parts in my shawn masterlist

•••

“You’re gonna be fine, Mariah.” Tilly said calmly over facetime, hoping her soothing voice would calm down the girl that was rapidly pacing her room hours before the party.

“I don’t know, Tilly. What if,” she snatched her phone off her desk and shoved her face into it, the only thing on Tilly’s screen were Mariah’s eyes. “what if he hates me for what I said to him? Now he realized I’m really not the one for him and he goes off to see some other girl again. This is all because I was too fucking scared.”

Tilly sighs. “It is because you were so scared.”

Mariah gives her a pointed look. “You’re not helping here Til.”

“Look M. At the end of the day you guys both obviously love each other and need to talk things out. So just listen to him. And he’ll listen to you. Because I know he’s suffered just as much as you have. But both of you need to give each other a chance to be happy with each other.”

Mariah sighs and sits on her bed. “But what if it doesn’t work out?”

Tilly chuckles. “But what if it does?”

Mariah rubs her face and looks at Tilly on her screen. “Why did you have to leave me when I need you most?” She joked, a sly smile on her face.

Tilly feigned shock. “I have family too ya know.”

They both laugh. Then a silence washes over the two girls.

“Just,” Tilly starts, her face soft with concern. “I want you to be happy. And if that’s with him then never let it go because there is no one like him.”

Mariah gave her a smile. “Thanks Til.”

There’s a yell on Tilly’s side. “Well I gotta go. Good luck and call me tomorrow!”

Mariah nods before the call ends. She stared at herself on her phone screen, the look of fear, and some hope.

“Mariah! Thirty minutes!”

Mariah walked over to her closet. She didn’t want to dress up, didn’t want to make it seem like she was desperate, because she’s not.

I don’t think anyone is more right for my brother than you are

Aaliyah’s words have not left her mind. The feeling of regret has eaten her up. She feels bad for getting mad at him, but could you blame her? He left her after an amazing night for someone else for publicity. She wanted to run back in his arms and forgive him, give him all of the affection they both have been craving from the other. But she can’t. It’s not like her to just give up easily, to just fall on her knees for a guy when he finally notices her. She grew up with only her mom, and she learned the hard way not to just give men what they want.

And even though she does want the certain guy, she needed to see him fight harder for it, for them.

But she has to work harder too.

She was mad at first, but now, she has to fight.

What a christmas this was going to be.

•••

There was soft muffled music playing just outside the Mendes household. Cars were parked on the side of the street, people visiting on this christmas eve.

“I think you can just-” her mom said as she opened the door, holding a dish of food with the other against her hip.

The warmth rushes past Mariah's shoulders, soft holiday music filling her ears, kids yelling and adults laughing and drinking come into view.

“Mariah? C’mon sweetie.” Her mom said, beckoning her further into the home.

She looked down at the carpeted group as she took off her coat, hoping no one noticed her and brought attention to her.

“Mariah!” She hears Karen’s chirpy voice shouted. She had a tray of food in her hand, a christmas themed apron around her waist.

Mariah flashed her a tight lipped smile and walked the small distance to her, giving her a side hug. “Merry Christmas, Karen.”

“And to you, love. Would you like anything to drink?” She put the tray down and wiped her hands off on the apron.

“Oh don’t worry about me, I’ll find my way around.” Mariah insisted, waving off the older woman.

Karen gave her a pointed look, but picked up the tray again and smiled at her sweetly. “Well, this is your home, so make yourself comfortable.”

She smiled back and walked into the kitchen, watching as other people put food on plates and opened drinks. Parents serving their kids food, the kids faces scrunching up as they watch their parents put food on their plate they don’t like.

“Hey Mari.” Mariah turned to see Aaliyah, smiles at her and holding a soda in her hand.

“No boyfriend today?” Mariah teased, picking at the end of the table.

Aaliyah laughs and sips at her soda. “Unfortunately no, he went to visit his family in Edmonton.”

Mariah nods and looks down at her fingers, not knowing what else to say. Where is Shawn?

“He’s on his way.” Aaliyah said out of nowhere, as if she was reading her mind.

“Oh, I-uh I wasn’t going to ask.”

“No I know,” Aaliyah started, her eyebrows raised. “just, thought I’d let you know.”

“Okay.” She breathed out nervously, turning around to pour herself a drink.

•••

After a while, and Mariah has a couple of drinks in her system, her ears perk up when everyone lets out a loud cheer and the front door slamming.

Wait, I’m not ready. She thought.

Mariah hurriedly gulps down her drink, eyes wide in panic. She runs to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her as the yelps calmed down.

“Honey, are you okay?” Her mother knocked on the wooden door, her voice laced in worry.

Mariah scratches her neck in nervousness. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

She waits to hear the footsteps fade before letting out a loud, exasperated breath. She digs her fingers in her hair, eyes bulging, lips chapped from her heavy breathing.

She’s not ready. He hates her for how she reacted. He tried explaining but she kept interrupting him. She waited for this moment for so long and she doesn’t know if she’s ready. He could have completely changed his mind in a day and went back to her, he could have forgotten all about her.

But she won’t know unless she talks to him.

So she straightens out her shirt and unlocks the door, bravely swinging it open to the dark hallway. She sighs heavily, “You can do this.” Mariah softly repeated to herself as she walked into the light of the living room.

And there he was, his tall lanky self walking around greeting everyone. He gets to her mom and as he hugged her he must have whispered something in her ear, because she gives him a knowing smile and points to Mariah.

Shawn stands up straight and flashes her a smile before giving her a little wave before he disappears into the kitchen.

Maria walks further into the living room and thrusts herself into a conversation with one of his aunts, distracting herself.

•••

After a while, a little past midnight, everyone gathers in the living room to share gifts. Aaliyah sat on Mariah’s right while her mom sat on her left. Mariah’s eyes never left Shawn’s figure as he walked into the living room, his tattooed hand holding the neck of a beer bottle, his cheeks rosy from all of the alcohol, his smile wide as he laughed along one of his cousins.

Mariah and Shawn lock eyes for a split second before she looks away and he clears his throat, sitting on the edge of the ottoman across from her.

“Before we get to passing out the gifts,” Karen started as she sat on the floor by Manny’s feet, her arm locked around his leg. “Shawn has to sing his annual christmas song of choice.”

Everyone cheers and claps and Shawn gives his mom a pointed look as someone came behind him and handed him a guitar.

He situated the instrument on his lap and strummed a couple of chords, tuning the guitar. “Any suggestions?”

No one spoke up, people looking around and raising eyebrows at each other. “You choose!” Someone shouted.

Shawn’s brows furrowed as he continued to play with the guitar. Mariah could see his eyes widen in realization as he fixed the guitar on his lap and cleared his throat.

“I’ll be home for christmas, you can count on me. Please have snow and mistletoe,” His eyes flickered up to meet Mariah’s, his fingers plucking each string. “and presents underneath the tree.”

Mariah sucked in a breath, her clammy hands rubbing against her jeans.

“Christmas eve will find me, where the love light gleams. I’ll be home for christmas, and you’ll be in my dreams.”

His eyes were still trained on her as he absentmindedly played every guitar string. Her mind was racing and her heart was beating rapidly as he gazed at her and continued to sing.

“I’ll be home this christmas, darling, I’ll be coming home to you. And there’s nothing in the world, gonna get in my way.”

And suddenly it’s too much for Mariah to take. His stare on her boring holes into her. The words he’s singing hitting her aching heart are too hard for you to handle. She heaves, her hand clutching her shirt to keep the tears in as she runs off.

She hears the gasps and whispered questions as she runs off the back porch, her breath visible in the cold winter air.

She looks out onto the grass, trying to calm her breathing and to stop the tears before they fall down her face when she hears the door slide behind her, heavy feet crunching the snow beneath them.

“Mariah-” His voice was rigid and hoarse from the alcohol and the singing, but she can hear the disparo in his voice, the sadness, the guilt and all she wants to do is turn around and hug the life out of him, but she can’t. She needs to know how he feels before she can do anything.

“I’m sorry.” She interrupted, her voice shaking as she sobbed, the hot tears blurring her vision of the white landscape.

“No honey,” He starts, his hand coming around her to hold her close. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You-you acted exactly how I thought you would and I’m sorry I took you for granted. I was a complete dick for how I treated you and you have every right to be mad at me.” He stroked her arm as she sobbed into his chest, his lips grazing her hair in a sweet kiss.

She calms her breathing before she can think of what to say, his warm embrace bringing her back to reality. “Why didn't you just tell me the truth in the first place?” She sniffed, her arms moving to wipe at her cheeks.

He sighed against her hair. “I guess, I always thought you’d be there for me and I took that for granted. I never meant to hurt you.”

It was silent between them for a while, their minds racing with every little thought they had that could be put into words.

“I want to be with you, more than anything.” He broke the silence, his hand coming up to stroke her hair. “And I will spend the rest of my days showing you just how much you mean to me and how much I cherish you and need you.” He pulls away to cup her face, his fingers warm against the cold tears on her cheeks. “I need you in my life. More than anything and I understand if you want to be friends but I cannot live in a world without you, I refuse to. I’m sorry for all of the shit I’ve caused, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to explain sooner, but I’m here now, and so ready to have you,” He paused, his eyes trailing over her face. “if you’ll have me?”

Mariah stares at him for what feels like hours but it was only a couple of seconds before she lunges further into his arms and kisses him like it’s been a thousand years (it has).

She lets the tears fall against she feels his own start to fall in mix with her as they kiss, teary smiles and laughs between the two as they pull away.

“I want you more than anything.” Mariah sobbed. “I want you through the bad and the good and the ugly, just all of you.”

He nods vigorously in agreement, his smile taking over his face. He cups her face again and pulls her back in a chilly kiss.

After a while of just kissing, they resorted to hugging when their lips were too swollen to continue their attack on the others.

Mariah sighed contently into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

“I’m so glad you came home for christmas.”

Permanent Taglist: @shawnssongs @shawn-youth @alles- - oder- nichts (do on computer)@zabdisamor @iammechick @it’s-not-a-peter-tingle @iloveshawnieboi @turtoix @wildflower-cth @heyits-claire @mutuallynotmutual @emilyxkate @silverreading @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy @blairscott @nervousyouths @rbforsmileycal @shawnsvanity @skarsgard-bill-sstuff @lostandfallenstar @sixwyrxstuff @quacksonhq @shawnwyr @a-dorky-book-keeper @sohani02 @sleepybesson @unsolvedhearts @reallysparklychaos @honeyrosemuffins @shawniebunny22 @katiaw2 @lover2448 @justanotherwriter-fangirl @hollandraul @shawns-sunflower @imaginashawnns @vinylmendes @havethetimeeofyourlifee @ilsolee @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson @harrysfruits @marissje @imbjapan @ihopeweneverseeoctober @masintahin @meatte @dancing-oceans @chonmnds @fallmoreinlove @cosmicmndes @lanallaa @fallinallincurls @wholeheartedlymendes @yslsaint @cevansh @omgdani17

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Best Medicine

Rated: E

The Best Medicine

“Ugh. Anton, give me a gin and tonic, please. Actually, just the bottle of gin. It’s been one of those days.”

The man at the bar beside Belle chuckled as Anton put down her glass of gin and tonic, swirling the whisky in his tumbler around before downing it and ordering another.

“Drowning your sorrows as well?” Belle asked. The man nodded.

“Yep. Just got done being yelled at by my ex-wife in our attorney’s office for two hours. You?”

“My boss is a jerk. Well, she’s not technically my boss, but she likes to think that because she’s a doctor and I’m a nurse, the sun shines out of her ass and she can boss me around like I’m nothing.”

The stranger considered this for a moment and nodded. “I can understand your frustration. Sounds a lot like my ex, actually.”

Belle laughed, and she held out a hand. “I’m Belle.”

“Cameron. Cam to my friends.”

“Am I a friend?” Belle teased.

“Well, I think that might depend on whether or not I get to know you better.” Cameron indicated her half-empty glass. “Can I get you another?”

Belle looked at the very tempting bottle of gin behind the bar. One the one hand, she had an early shift the next morning and she didn’t want to be giving a batch of flu shots with a pounding headache. On the other hand, Milah Cassidy, the bane of Belle and all her colleagues’ existences, had made her day so miserable that when Dr Cassidy had finished her shift and finally left them alone, a collective cheer had gone up around the clinic.

On yet another hand, Ruby had been on at her to get back into the dating game for months now, and whilst Belle was in no way looking for anything remotely committed or long term, she had an itch to scratch just like any other woman with sexual desires, and if Cameron was willing to spend a little time with her scratching that itch, then why shouldn’t she indulge.

“All right,” she said.

Fresh drinks procured, Belle scooted along the bar to Cameron and leaned in a little closer.

“So, tell me about this terrible ex of yours.”

Cameron grimaced. “Ugh. I’d rather not, any more than you’d want to talk about your terrible boss.”

“True enough. Shall we leave aside the reasons why we’re drinking and talk about other things instead?”

Cameron chinked his glass against hers. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

They talked for what felt like hours, although Belle was keeping an eye on the time and knew that it could not have been so long. She found out all sorts of things about Cam – his tastes in books and music and movies, his favourite food, the name of his childhood goldfish.

But not, she recalled after the fact, his last name.

It was getting towards the end of the evening and Belle was going to get up and leave. That was when the kiss happened. She wasn’t quite sure which of them had initiated it or if it had been a mutual reaction to a heavy and suggestive pause in the conversation. All she knew was that Cam was an excellent kisser and she was getting this man back to her place tonight by hook or by crook.

Cam, thankfully, was all too eager to go along with her suggestion to go back to hers, his voice low and husky, Scottish accent twice as strong now as he whispered all kinds of filthy promises in her ear and Belle’s knees nearly turned to jelly at the thought of it all.

Once inside her flat, they didn’t make it as far as the bed. Belle tackled Cameron down onto the sofa, wrestling with his tie and waistcoat buttons as he pulled her shirt open and yanked her bra cups down to free her breasts, tugging at her nipples and pinching them gently. Belle groaned above him, rocking her hips up against his and feeling his cock twitch and harden against her thigh. She finally succeeded in getting his shirt open and she raked her fingers over his chest, flicking at his own nipples and receiving a growl of lust in return for her efforts.

Belle grinned, sitting up to hitch her skirt up around her waist and pull her panties down, and letting Cameron undo his belt and fly, taking out his cock and stroking himself quickly to full hardness. There was an easy confidence in the way he moved, showing himself off for her evaluation almost, but as her fingers closed over his and increased the pressure on his shaft, pumping harder, she could tell that he was only holding on to his self-control by a thread. She grabbed her purse and rifled in it for a condom.

“Now I think it’s my turn.” Belle sat back on her knees, parting her folds with two fingers and unhooding her clit, already swollen and aching to be touched. She could feel the wetness gathering at her entrance, and she groaned as Cam took her up on her hint and pressed his thumb firmly against her pearl, rubbing in circles and making her hips jerk up against his touch, pushing her sex into his hand and welcoming one finger, then two, pressing up inside her, inner walls clutching desperately around them and pulling them in deeper towards her sweet spot. Cam’s other hand reached up for her breast, tugging at her nipple again, and Belle moaned unashamedly, digging her fingers into his chest. Oh yes, this was definitely enough to scratch that itch.

“Oh yes, yes, like that. Oh yes, Cam!”

Belle wondered if she’d scared her neighbours with her scream, before deciding that she really didn’t care, not when the orgasm had been so good. She took a few moments to get her breath aback and then shifted her weight, sinking down onto Cam’s cock and rolling her hips. His own thrust up to meet her, urging her on harder and faster until she was panting again, almost but not quite reaching the edge.

Then Cam found her clit again and squeezed roughly, making her see stars, her inner walls fluttering around his cock and pulling him over with her, a hoarse shout of her name echoing through the small apartment.

On shaking knees, Belle pushed herself up and let Cam pull out and get rid of the condom.

“Well, I think that satisfied an urge,” she murmured.

“Most definitely.” Cam pulled her down for long kiss, much softer and more sensual than the heated frenzy that they’d shared on the way back from the bar.

“Maybe we can actually make it to the bed for round two?” Belle suggested.

“As wonderful as that sounds, and as absolutely delicious as this evening has been, unfortunately I have a babysitter on the clock and she’s only paid up till midnight.” It was with obvious reluctance that Cam rolled off the sofa and began to set his clothes to rights. “But if you’re ever in the mood to share another evening like this, then I can usually be found at Anton’s if I’ve had a bad day. Which, let’s face it, is most days.”

Belle laughed, lying back on the sofa and getting one final appreciative glimpse of Cam’s ass before he pulled his trousers back up. “Me too.”

He kissed her again before he left, and Belle continued to lie on the sofa for a while, smiling at what had transpired.

She was still smiling all the way through her morning clinic shift, and Ruby immediately guessed that she’d finally had decent sex with another human being. In fact, Belle was smiling right up until the moment that Dr Cassidy spoke to her.

“Nurse French, I’ve just seen that your next patient is my son; my ex-husband’s bringing him in. He’s terrified of needles and he’ll probably scream the place down, but just stick the little drama queen. He’ll be fine.”

With this, Dr Cassidy moved away, and Belle was left completely stunned that someone with so little compassion, especially for scared children and especially for her own scared child, had become a doctor in the first place. Still, she was on a tight appointment schedule and she couldn’t just stand there in astonishment all day. She went out into the waiting room to call her next patient.

“Bae Gold?”

Bae did indeed look terrified at the prospect of getting his flu shot, but for a few seconds, Belle couldn’t heed him as she was too busy staring in amazement at his father.

“Hello, Cameron,” she said eventually.

“Hello, Belle.” He gave a slightly shy smile, which Belle returned. Bae looked up at his father.

“Do you know Nurse Belle, Daddy?”

“Erm, yes. We met yesterday. Nurse Belle is a… very special friend.”

“Oh.” Bae looked far too sage for his six years. “Did you go on a date?”

“Erm, sort of.”

“Are you going to go on another one? Tilly from next door can look after me again like she did yesterday.”

Cam looked at Belle, his eyes questioning, and she nodded.

“I would love to go on another date with your daddy, Bae. Come on, let’s get your flu shot done. It’ll only take a second.”

With the fascinating new knowledge that his daddy knew Nurse Belle, and completely absorbed in planning their date for them, Bae received his shot with no fuss at all, and after he and Cam had left, Cam giving her his number, Belle had to laugh out loud. Not only had she had great sex last night, she now had a date, and she could think of better revenge on Dr Cassidy than by sleeping with her ex-husband.

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 3b

He froze. Shit. Did she just kiss him?

She pulled back nervously. "I... Erm... I thought..." She babbled.

In order to silence her, Jake kissed her.

They spent several minutes making out, their arms around each other.

Jake pulled away reluctantly.

"What's wrong? You do like me don't you?"

He nodded shyly, “I really like you.” He confessed, “I’ve never kissed a girl before...”

"Really? I wouldn't have known." She smiled.

He nodded and kissed her again.

Louis was laid on the grass outside giggling along with a couple of the lads he knew from the year above. He felt really chilled. A pleasant feeling.

One of the lads passed him a beer.

“Cheers.” He opened the can, “Not bad this party.”

"Yeh, Krystal's family know how to throw a party. Well, her mum and dad are at some kind of retreat - they just leave her big brother in charge."

“Ah right.” Louis nodded.

"Talking of brothers..." One of the other lads remarked. "I wonder if yours has managed to bang Krystal yet..!" He laughed.

Louis laughed, “Probably not.”

"She's not his first is she?"

“I dunno.” Louis shrugged, “We don’t really discuss banging girls!”

"But you have right? You're not a loser virgin."

“Course I’ve fucked a few girls.”

"Cool. Fancy another joint?"

“Nah. I’ll pass. Still enjoying the effects of this one.”

"Fair play mate."

10pm

"No, you said we could watch this film next!" Lottie complained. "I let you pick the last film!"

“But I want to watch this one!” Tilly complained.

"Then you should have picked it when you had the chance." Emily reasoned.

“Urgh! This is lame!”

“Girls, enough.” Charlie said quietly, “Can we please just watch a film?”

Duffy quietly slipped out the room whilst the girls continued to argue.

“Girls!” Charlie warned before he followed his wife.

Duffy yelped when she turned and realised that Charlie was behind her in the hall.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

"I'm fine!" She snapped slightly in reply.

“No you’re not.” He sighed.

"Its nothing, just drop it." Catching sight of herself in the hallway mirror she sighed softly and turned to move away from it.

“Of course it’s something. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

"Noticed what?" She demanded.

“That you’re hiding something from me.” He paused, “I’ve noticed your eating habits have... changed.”

"No they haven't!" She replied defensively.

“You didn’t eat the crisps. You threw them away. I know how anxious you get at meal times.” He stepped closer towards her. “What’s it telling you? Your brain, what’s it taunting you with this time?”

"I just wasn't hungry. Why must you always make such a big deal of these things?"

“Are you anorexic again? Or is it a combination of anorexia and bulimia this time?” He asked, closing the door as they went into the kitchen.

"That was just a bug, I didn't make myself sick!" She was getting angry now.

“I’m not accusing you, sweetheart.”

"Yes you are! You think that I'm so fat again that I need to starve myself and make myself sick!" Her words rushed out as her eyes filled with tears.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re fat.” He replied. “You’re beautiful.”

"If you really thought that then you wouldn't accuse me of being ill again."

“I’m worried about you!”

"You don't need to worry."

“I’ll always worry.”

"And that alone stresses me out." She sighed.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, “You’re so gorgeous.”

She tried to pull away, suddenly edgy at the contact.

He sighed and moved his arms from her.

She walked out of the kitchen and back into the lounge.

He sat on the bottom step of the stairs and sighed.

"Daddy the film is starting." Emily told him as she wandered into the hallway.

He smiled sadly as he caught his daughter’s gaze. “I’ll be in, in a minute princess.”

"You ok dad?" She asked softly, sitting on the step next to him.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine sweetheart. I just need a minute.”

"Are you sad coz mama is sad?" Emily whispered.

“Yeah.” He answered quietly.

"Why is she sad?"

“I don’t know why.”

"I could try and talk to her?" Emily suggested with a shrug.

“It’s ok Em.” He kissed her forehead.

"I don't like it when you're sad."

“I don’t like being sad princess. I don’t like it when you’re sad either.”

"Maybe if you give mum a cuddle she'll cheer up?"

“Tried that. It didn’t work.” He sighed.

"Oh..." Emily pondered the situation.

“When did you get so big, Em?” He asked sadly.

"I'm not! I'm still smaller than all the other kids in my class." Emily giggled, nudging her dad's arm.

“I remember the day your mum told me she was pregnant with you.”

"I caused a lot of drama for you both didn't I?"

“No. If it wasn’t for you, your mother and I wouldn’t be here.”

"You love mum lots and lots don't you?"

“Yes honey.”

"She loves you lots too."

Charlie nodded, “I know.” He paused, “Go and watch the film princess. I’ll be in shortly.” He kissed the top of her head.

She shot him a look that indicated that she didn't entirely believe him, her green eyes sparkling in the light.

He bit his lip hard trying to stop the tears in his eyes.

Emily leant over and gave her dad a cuddle.

He cuddled her tightly. As soon as she was gone into the living room, Charlie broke down crying in tears in the kitchen.

Duffy couldn't help but notice that Emily kept looking over at her as they were watching the film.

Charlie decided to go and sit in the garden. He needed some time to think.

“Dad’s sad.” She said to her mum with a shrug, “Coz you’re sad.”

"I'm not sad." Duffy replied reflexively. "Did he tell you that?"

Duffy gestured for her eldest daughter to join her in the hallway so as not to disturb the twins watching the film.

Emily got up off the sofa and followed her mum into the hall.

"What's going on princess?"

Emily shrugged, “Dad's sad.”

"Did he say why?"

Emily shook her head with a sigh.

"OK." Duffy sighed. "You go rejoin your sisters and I'm going to go speak to your dad."

“He was on the stairs before. I don’t know where he’s gone.” Emily nodded and kissed her mum’s cheek, rejoining Lottie and Tilly in the lounge.

"I think I know where..." Duffy mumbled to herself as she headed to the back garden. She lent against the doorframe of the back door. "You planning to share that?" She teased, indicating the cigarette in his hand.

“Maybe.” Charlie replied back and took another drag of the cigarette.

"You know that's a filthy habit..?" She chastised him but there was a glimmer of a smile on her lips.

“Uh huh. I know.” He patted his knee, “Come and sit here?”

She did as he asked, perching on his knee and stealing the cigarette from his mouth.

“I don’t like it when you’re sad.” He said quietly.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

“You didn’t.” He kissed her neck.

She took a drag on the cigarette, coughing slightly as she blew the smoke out.

“How long have you been struggling with your eating again?” He asked quietly.

She sighed. "I've noticed these last few months that I don't seem to be as toned as I was, no matter how hard I try. I thought if I cut back a little it would help but..." She sighed again.

“It hasn’t?” He asked.

"Paul asked me earlier if I was going to have another baby. I tried to brush it off but, well, I'm clearly fatter than I thought." She sighed, taking another drag on the cigarette.

“You’re not fat! Duffy, there’s hardly anything on you.” He sighed, “Paul asked you about another baby? Him and Oli have been asking me for days if we’re going to have another baby.”

"Really?"

He nodded.

"The other kids would have a fit!"

He laughed, “Yeah they would.”

"We're far too old for that kind of nonsense again." She giggled.

He rested his head on her shoulder lightly. “You’re beautiful. As for your figure, I haven’t noticed any changes.”

Taking hold of her husband's hands she moved them around her waist. "See?" She pressed his hands into her stomach which was a little softer to touch but barely noticeable to look at.

“What?” He really had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling.

"I worked damn hard to get my stomach muscles back after I had Paul but now they're just all flabby."

“Are they? I can’t tell...” He moved his hands to her hips.

"It doesn't seem to matter what I eat or how much exercise I do." She sighed.

“You’re gorgeous! And you look bloody amazing for someone who's had seven children!”

"Hmm..."

“You really do.”

[whisker-biscuit]

Starry-Eyed

*Based on the beautiful artwork by @crysptrsh, please go check it out!*

Summary: Skout accidentally encounters the Nomad when everyone else is too far off to be of assistance. They share a bit of an unwilling soul search, and the spittoon girl learns that the world is a lot more complicated than she wanted to believe. 

And some things shine brighter than the stars.

Skout had done it. She still couldn’t believe it, that she’d managed to accomplish what so many others had failed to do for over a century, but here she was, standing in front of a simple animal snare that had caught prey unlike any she’d ever expected.

Skout had captured the Nomad.

It was a bit of a lucky thing though, if the girl was honest with herself. She and the crew had been traveling into near-sunset when they had found a rare patch of cactus and desert shrubs, spanning a good several miles at least and very difficult to navigate. Toth, spirited and impatient, had ordered the majority of her group to start working through the undergrowth despite its treachery. The Y’dala woman herself took a smaller team to split up and ride around the perimeter – a task that would take the rest of the evening.

Of course Skout had begged to join, but ever since the encounter with the beast in the Nowhere storm, Toth had been bouncing between avoiding her spittoon girl in harsh silence and hovering over her like a mother hen. It was confusing, and frustrating, and Skout was just about ready to tear her hair out.

Jethro had been the one to suggest that someone stay behind with the larger wagon and set up camp, since it was obvious they’d be here for possibly a few days. Toth was against the idea until she realized it’d be a good way to both keep Skout out of harm’s way and ignore her at the same time, so she had assigned the poor girl the job with no room for further argument. One other Dandy-Lion was voted to keep her company, “just in case”, and then the group had departed.

After the tents were set up and a fire was built, Skout was left to her own devices as her companion decided he was taking an afternoon nap. He told her, settling himself onto the dusty desert ground, that the likelihood of the Nomad being here – or anyone really – was pretty slim. Skout was usually optimistic but she felt a little inclined to agree with him.

So now, two hours after arriving, she could maybe forgive herself for being a little slack-jawed at the sight.

The Nomad was stuck in a bit of a squat, his right arm inside the low-hanging, hollowed-out cactus arm Scout had set up to snare an animal for dinner. He was very still and very wide-eyed, left hand still gripping at the crook of his elbow in an interrupted attempt to pull out of the trap.

“You, yer arm’s stuck,” Skout said quietly, dumbly. She shook her head to snap out of her shock. “What’re you doin’ here, Nomad?”

That was enough to pull her catch out of his own freeze up, because he started tugging more frantically at his trapped appendage. The girl scampered up quickly in order to stop his struggling and the Nomad flinched back so violently he fell on his behind. His arm was bent at an awkward angle, uncomfortable but probably not painful.

“Hey, hey now, don’t be doin’ that! You’ll pull a muscle or somethin’!” She lightly scolded. “What am I s’pposed to tell everyone if you go gettin’ yerself hurt?”

But the Nomad wasn’t listening. He looked terrified, keeping as much distance between them as he could while still tugging desperately at the cactus snare. When Skout inched closer his shoulders jolted up to his neck and he tried to clap his hands through the plant. It didn’t work and the poor thing got a gloveful of prickly needles for his efforts.

Skout wasn’t really sure what to do at this point. She could go back to the camp to grab her fellow sleeping Dandy-Lion, but it was a fifteen minute push through the brush one way and leaving the Nomad alone was just asking for him to escape.

She could shout for help, maybe, but the search party had set out hours ago and would have good distance, careful searching or not. It was also starting to get dark, and she didn’t have a flare or anything to signal where she was.

The best option would have been to bring the Nomad back herself, but she faced two problems with this. First, she was recovering from her injuries. The moment the girl had gotten off her crutches she had demanded to jump back into the fray, and it was the only debate she’d managed to win against Toth since the incident. The exertion of walking alone for this long was difficult, much less hauling along an unwilling companion.

Secondly, the Nomad was acting…much more skittish than the last time she’d interacted with him. Sure, they’d been pursuing and evading each other for weeks now, and there wasn’t any doubts about which members of the group were willing to bring him back in less than one piece, but something about this was…different.

Wrong.

So, with a quiet resigned huff and a painful sigh, Skout sat against a brittle shrub to consider her dilemma. She brought up her legs halfway to her chest and draped her arms tiredly across her knees, eyes distant while the Nomad heaved and panted in front of her.

“What’m I supposed to do?” The girl near-whispered. “If I go messin’ this up again, Toth could get in a whole lotta trouble again.”

The two made brief unexpected eye-contact before the Nomad’s face turned abruptly to the side, still clearly terrified. Skout huffed again and picked absentmindedly at a scab on her thumb.

“And you ain’t been helpin’ things much, Friend. Actin’ all afraid a’ me like that. I ain’t that scary…am I?”

The Nomad blinked up at the girl and gave a tiny, timid shake of his head, and Skout frowned.

“Ya say that, but I’m not much reassured, Mister Nomad.” She looked at him again, studied him a little more closely. “Why’s everyone so upset at you, anyhow? I know you’ve been doin’ magic and all that rule-breakin’ stuff, but…what makes ya so special to get everyone up in a tilly?”

The words made her captive tense as a rattlesnake. He stopped struggling to stare at her, an expression on his face that was half pleading, half disbelief, and mixed together to form 100% distress. Skout would have been unnerved, but everything about the last few weeks had been unnerving and she was sick of the feeling.

“And, why ya gotta be bundled up so much too? The desert is plenty cold enough at night for that, but it ain’t so kind durin’ the day.” She scooted up to him on her butt, green eyes starting to fill with the inquisitiveness she used to be more famous for.

Whatever the Nomad was seeing, however, he wasn’t liking at all. He tried to kick backwards, and when his trapped arm stopped the movement he instead tried to hide fetal-position behind the hollowed cactus. Skout was having none of it.

“Come on, Friend, I ain’t gonna hurtcha! I just wanna,” the girl paused. “Actually, I don’t really much know what I want. I guess. Maybe…” She chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe I could just see yer face? Is that alright?”

Her captive uncurled just a bit to watch warily. His gaze drifted down her body, and Skout realized with a start that he was looking for weapons. She almost snorted in irritated amusement.

“Nah, I ain’t got nothin’ dangerous on me, Toth has been real weird lately, not lettin’ me do nothin’ useful. I dunno why she still wants me here, if I’m bein’ honest.”

The Nomad leaned around the snare, closer than he’d been willing to get before, and Skout’s breath almost caught at the brightness of his eyes in the growing dusk. She tentatively reached a hand out, not quite closed into a fist.

“Can I? Please? Just one look?”

Her fingers brushed against the rim of his hat, but he didn’t wince away. The Nomad remained completely rigid, with a slight twitch to his body like a reluctant marionette with no other way out. Skout took the hat off and turned it this way and that, respectful but curious. She didn’t notice nervous tears forming in her captive’s face.

Next came the bandana, wrapped so tightly around the Nomad’s face and neck it was a miracle he wasn’t suffocating, in her opinion. She gently pulled it down and made a startled noise when she couldn’t see an obvious mouth.

“Uh, well.” Skout stammered as the Nomad made himself a little smaller. “I uh, I’m sure lots a folks don’t have mouths! It ain’t that uncommon, promise!”

But she was even more eager to see the rest of his face now, and the head scarf was grabbed a little faster, with a little less consideration of his comfort level. The Nomad jerked back at her action and ended up coming right out of the headwear. It remained stuck in Skout’s hand, but she didn’t notice.

Because the sight before her was nothing short of incredible.

Pitch, fluffy hair swept up in a current of soft innocence, highlighting a slim, childlike face. Eyes, once tempered by so much faded orange, now glowed in beautiful brilliance against the deepest of dark skin, and the tears still prickling at their corners added the illusion of liquid light circling two dazzling moons. The lack of mouth and nose were no longer disconcerting, but ethereal. As if to complete the celestial picture was the sky, finally reaching that point of showing stars but not so opaque as to obscure everything else.

It was unlike anything Skout had ever seen before.

It was magical.

“Flippin’ flapjacks,” she breathed, drawing the scarf close to her collarbone. “That’s, this – you’re beautiful.”

The Nomad remained still, tears threatening to spill and shimmer down unmarred cheeks. He – they – made a move as if to take the scarf back, then stopped and recoiled. Skout blinked dazedly and slowly came out of her trance.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she passed the piece of clothing back and the Nomad accepted it gratefully, managing to wrap it back on properly even with only one hand available. The bandana came back up to cover the bottom half of their face, and with a hesitant tap they took back their hat, pressing it snugly on top of their head like a security blanket.

The girl tried to get the amazing image out of her mind, but no amount of blinking or headshaking could do it. She picked at her scab without looking at it.

“So uh, I don’t s’ppose yer gonna come back with me if I ask nicely, huh.” Skout grimaced when she received an incessant ‘no’ in all forms of body language. “That’s what I thought. Dang it, How’m I gonna explain this to everyone?”

Her captive seemed just a little less fearful for their life, because a half shrug was her answer. The spittoon girl sighed and looked up at the evening sky.

“You know, there’s so many stories ‘bout before magic disappeared. Sometimes Toth tells ‘em to me, when she’s in a good enough mood. It always sounds so amazin’, and I’ve always wanted to see it with my own eyes.”

Skout went quiet for a few seconds and just watched the stars twinkle. “And then I gotta chance to meet you, and – now don’t get me wrong, those little critters you make are right plum outta the fantasy books, but this…I ain’t never realized how special it really is, I guess. You’re really special. Honestly. And I wanna help Toth and help her people, that’s why I’m still goin’ with her even though…even though she ain’t been too happy with me lately. But I don’t…what happens after all that? Where do you go? Why does El Ray want you so bad?”

Something anxious and troubled leaked into the Nomad’s eyes then, and if Skout didn’t know better she’d say they knew exactly what would happen to them. But that was impossible. It was probably just the fear talking.

“When we came here today, nobody really thought we’d see you. I think Toth’s the only one who wanted to search this place. Maybe…just this once,” she hesitated, and stared into the subdued radiance of the Nomad’s eyes. “Maybe I could just…not find nothin’ in this trap. Maybe it just sprung by itself somehow, cause that, that happens sometimes, right?”

The Nomad’s expression was bordering towards disbelief and the first inkling of hope, even as tears still glimmered along their skin. Skout wanted to cry too, at the unfairness of it all. She took ahold of her captive’s free hand and clasped it in her own, willing them to look at her.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Twenty minutes later, the sleeping Dandy-Lion woke to find Skout stumbling into the camp, dirty and tired and rather listless. He propped himself up on one arm and watched her.

“Did the traps catch anything?”

And Skout looked at the night sky again, at stars that were once so inviting when she had been younger, and more naïve to the complicated nature of things. They weren’t like that anymore.

“Nah, nothin’. I think you’re right, ain’t nothing worthwhile here at all.”

They weren’t like that, because she had started to lose that naivety, that stupid belief in a black and white world and her ability to know the difference.

But in return, she had received a glimpse of something even more magnificent. Something worth protecting even if she didn’t know how to do it yet. And it wasn’t just a visible sight, either.

Because after she’d freed them, before the two parted ways again and she’d started the trek back –

The Nomad had hugged her.

I love this series and I love crysptrsh’s amazing talent and I love the fluffy-haired Nomad theory. I just love everything tbh - thanks for reading!

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.98

“A Fate Worse Than Death”

A/N: Should... should I have titled the previous chapter "Defacing the Music" or would that have been too much? Ahaha... ha...

Three chapters left after this one.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 97 - Facing the Music 99 - Sigh No More >>

They could not put Lorca in the brig for obvious reasons. They could not, for even more obvious reasons, put Groves there, either. "If we disabled all computer access in the lab, we can keep them there," concluded Saru.

Kumar took one look at the things Mischkelovitz had done in the walls and vetoed this idea. "I don't even know what half these mods are, but that's clearly mushroom stuff," he said when he pulled open the access panel nearest the door and saw the mess of mycelial tubing. "We need a full engineering team of experts, ideally the people who built this ship."

"Can you disable access in crew quarters?" asked Cornwell, remembering a complaint from Dr. Samaritan Li that had come across her desk many years back.

"Sure," said Kumar.

"Completely disabled. Not even emergency safeties."

"You got it, admiral."

The suggestion gave Saru pause. It seemed unethical. "Lorca has been recently injured," Saru said after Kumar was gone. "If there are complications..."

Lorca was not the only one who could communicate an entire symphony of disdain with a single glance. The look Cornwell gave Saru said in no uncertain terms that Lorca's survival was not only so far down the list of priorities it came somewhere after organizing a crew movie night, it was also just as optional.

Twenty minutes later, Kumar was done. "I even disconnected the toilet and shower controls just in case. They can only be triggered from the outside now." So far as he knew, these modifications were being made purely for the benefit of Groves and this was his little way of getting back at Groves for everything in null time. Had he known the same fate awaited Lorca, he would have been even more pleased.

"Perfect," said Cornwell. "Bring them out."

Lorca and Groves both objected to the move. "I'd rather be in the brig," said Lorca.

"Good for you," said Cornwell blandly.

"I'd rather he was in the brig, too," said Groves.

Cornwell did not dignify that with a response. "Transporter room—"

"Wait!" Groves shouted, throwing up his hands in desperation. "What are we supposed to do in there with no computer? Can I—can I at least get a violin? Saru!"

Saru looked at Groves with pity. "I will arrange one for you."

"Fan—"

"Energize," said Cornwell. Groves and Lorca vanished in a shimmer of light. Their disappearance did nothing to lighten her mood. "See to it that this place is taken care of and let me know the minute Lalana is awake."

"Yes, admiral."

Cadet Tilly was more than happy to make her own assessment of Mischkelovitz's modifications; she understood what they were better than anyone else. She also remembered how stridently Mischkelovitz had cautioned against anyone finding out the true nature of the system, so she kept her conversation informal as she poked around the walls. "Is it true she's not going to wake up?"

That was the greatest tragedy where Saru was concerned. If only he had convinced Lorca to send Mischkelovitz away all those months ago, the quirky scientist would still be with them today. "Unfortunately, it seems unlikely."

"Poor Mac—I mean, Colonel O'Malley. He lost his brother and now his sister, too."

Tilly was preoccupied enough with her assigned task that she did not see the dawning realization in Saru's posture. Saru himself did not have time to finish fully processing the implications.

"Pollard to Commander Saru. Sir, Dr. Mischkelovitz is awake!"

It was a miracle Pollard could not explain. "There was zero brain activity on my scans. A doctor from the Khorana came over and applied some sort of experimental protocol and now..." Pollard had gone to check on Mischkelovitz in the temporary surgical suite and saw the activity change on the monitor. According to the notations left by the other doctor on the chart, the patient was expected to make a full recovery as a result of this mysterious "protocol."

Mischkelovitz looked at Pollard and Saru, strangely sedate. "Can I go now?"

"I don't think that's wise," said Pollard. "I don't know if the protocol has any side effects, or even how it works. I'd like to monitor Dr. Mischkelovitz until further notice."

Mischkelovitz slid off the medical slab, opened one of the drawers set into the base, and pulled out a remote monitor. She slapped it onto her neck. "You're monitoring me. Now can I go?"

"Where is it you wish to go?" asked Saru.

"My quarters," was the answer. "I'm tired."

Pollard shook her head at Saru. Culber might have developed a rapport with Mischkelovitz but no one else on staff had and Mischkelovitz was a notoriously difficult patient. Pollard was more than happy to shift both the blame and responsibility for any decisions onto Saru.

"I believe Colonel O'Malley would prefer you to remain here," suggested Saru.

Mischkelovitz glanced over at O'Malley's still-sleeping form. "I don't want to and I'm going to go."

"Very well, you may go and sleep, but I will expect a full report on the modifications you have made to your lab and the admiral may have questions for you. I know I do. Report to me once you are rested."

"Yes," said Mischkelovitz, glancing at Saru's collar. "Commander."

As Mischkelovitz walked out of sickbay, Saru thought it felt like things had gone back to the way they were when he first met her.

They materialized in the quarters Groves had formerly shared with Larsson. "—tastic, thank... damn it." Groves flopped down on the bed to the right with a sigh. "You can have Larsson's bed," he said, as if this were some form of hospitality and not the most obvious thing in the world.

The quarters were abysmally small. Two beds, a bit of storage space for each, a shared desk, and a meager bathroom. Lorca had assigned this exact ensign double to all the Lab 26 personnel as a preemptively punitive measure and now he was bearing the brunt of the indignity. Curiously, there was already a guitar on Groves' side of the room, rendering the violin a questionable necessity.

"They could've at least sent my clothes," grumbled Lorca, rummaging for a shirt among Larsson's things. Disappointingly, most of what Larsson had was white and all of it was entirely too big.

Groves rolled his eyes at Lorca's intrusion into Larsson's belongings and grabbed something from his own closet. "That would have tipped more people off. Here."

The shirt on offer was red. "Got anything black?" Groves handed Lorca a black t-shirt that had a strange white bug creature printed on it made out of little cubes. "What the hell is this?"

Groves stared impassively. "You don't know Space Invaders? And here I thought my childhood was deprived. How about I..." Groves remembered he was cut off from the computer and began swearing profusely—in English for once.

"Jesus, Groves," said Lorca in a mix of disparagement and mild admiration when the colorful tirade finally ended a full minute later. "Pants?"

Groves pulled all his clothing drawers open in an angry frenzy. "Whatever! Just take it all! I don't care!" Then he got back onto his bed and sulked.

They were barely five minutes in and this was already unbearable.

Lorca noted a certain bareness to Larsson's side of the room. The Swede had little in the way of personal effects, but most of what he did have on display were pictures of himself on various worlds, often with a freshly-caught fish or similar bit of sea fauna dangling on a line. In one image, he was eating dinner with Yoon and Morita. In another, he was laughing and Lalana was clinging to his back with the expression of a deer in headlights because that was essentially the only facial expression she had. Looking closely, though, it was possible to make out the mid-click position of her tongue.

By some miracle there was a single printed book in the room. Unfortunately it turned out to be a vanity copy of the one Larsson had written, Gates of Hell: An In-Depth History of the Uanar-Barosic Wars [2066-2079]. Lorca opened it up and read the dedication. To the best Captain I ever had I dedicate this book. Somehow, Larsson had managed to construct an eleven-word run-on sentence. The rest of the book's prose matched the dedication entirely save for the major difference that most of the other sentences were very, very long indeed. Lorca put the tome back down. He was not yet desperate enough to slog through it.

Out of nowhere, Groves asked, "Do you ever get the urge to just smash something into your face?"

Lorca stared. "No."

"Huh. Guess it's just me."

Grimacing, Lorca laid down and closed his eyes. When he opened them again it was to the sound of a violin being tuned and the cloying smell of sweet potatoes. He sat up, lip twitching in annoyance.

"They beamed in some dinner," Groves informed him. One of the trays was already eaten and the other was missing something from one of the compartments. "I took your dessert. I'd say sorry, but..."

Lorca decided not to take the bait and scooped up a spoonful of cold, orange mush. He lifted it a few inches into the air and turned the spoon sideways, watching the watery goop drip back down into the pile on the tray. It fell a little short of the meal quality he was accustomed to. "This isn't food. Isn't even a meal. There's no meat."

"Don't complain," said Groves, plucking the violin strings with his fingernail and adjusting the tuning. "You're getting off scot-free thanks to me. Cornwell bought the whole 'keep this quiet or we're all screwed' angle."

"You say that like it isn't true," noted Lorca, feeling this finally confirmed his suspicions.

"Oh, it's true. You'd better start accepting it, too, 'cause you're just smart enough to be a danger to yourself if you start getting any more grandiose ideas, and you're definitely a danger to all of us. Every single person who helps you ends up worse off. Lalana, Melly, Mac. Now me. You're human cancer. I liked the other Lorca better."

Lorca shot Groves a wry frown. "You never met the man."

"Yeah, but he killed himself. That I can understand." Groves tucked the violin against his cheek and began to play.

To Lorca's surprise, Groves was good. Very good. Unfortunately, the tune he was playing was little more than a fluttering arrangement of tiny, tinny notes that repeated over and over endlessly. It clearly required technical precision, and there was something momentarily beautiful about it, but the beauty faded into repetitive annoyance. "What the hell is that?"

"Fratres, sort of," said Groves, not missing a single note. If anything, he started playing it even faster. "It was my brother's favorite. I used to play it for him for hours."

"Well I hate it, so I'm telling you to stop."

"In a minute."

"No, now."

Groves turned his back to Lorca and went even faster. The notes became pinpricks, almost too fast to follow. Groves' arms shook violently at the intense effort.

Lorca flicked a spoonful of orange mush at Groves' back. He heard the tiniest squeak of a missed note, nothing more. He debated throwing the whole tray but, as bad as the food was, he needed to eat, so he reached down for one of his boots instead. That stopped the music in its tracks.

"Just for that," said Groves as he turned back, "I'm doing this the easy way." He went over by the door and resumed playing with his fingers so high up on the fingerboard they were almost to the bridge. This time, the sound was not a rapid succession of notes forming any sort of tune but a long, sustained series of high-pitched scraping noises.

It was excruciating. Lorca covered his ears. "Knock it off, Groves! You call that music!?"

"No, you idiot. I'm trying to hack the computer."

"With a violin?"

"Yeah. I can't whistle loud enough at the right pitch to pierce the door, but if I can get the strings just right, I can generate a sound wave that the computer will interpret as a command and then it's off to the races."

Lorca stared. "You're kidding."

"Nah, I'm just that good."

Lorca suspected Groves was lying and just making the noise to annoy him, but it was hardly the craziest thing someone had proposed in the past seventy-two hours and Groves was a bastion of sanity compared to Mischkelovitz. Lorca decided to bear it for a few minutes.

The initial attempt seemed to dissatisfy Groves. He retuned his strings and tried again. There was a pinging snap as one broke. Another adjustment, another attempt.

Groves struck a particularly egregious, painful high note that felt like the audio equivalent of bright lights and Lorca exclaimed in pain. "Sorry," said Groves, almost sounding sincere. He played the note again, even more sharply this time.

The door opened.

"Holy," began Lorca, amazed, but his amazement and Groves' elation faded quickly when they saw Mischkelovitz standing in the doorway.

Or at least, for a moment they thought they did.

"Ne'he kratis-kolht!" gasped Groves, violin and bow falling slackly to his side.

There was no flicker of understanding in Mischkelovitz's eyes. There was no flicker of anything, because while they may have been her eyes, the mind behind them was not. Instead there was a darkness, intense and enduring. She ignored Groves and addressed Lorca. "I'll have that tooth now."

"Petra," said Lorca.

Groves took a step back. He had seen Petrellovitz over the bridge feed when she first arrived on Discovery and been shocked by all her scars. He had also heard the news of her demise at the hands of L'Rell in the cargo bay. The woman in the doorway was impossible on two counts.

She also seemed not to recognize her own brother, which meant it was true. Emellia Petrellovitz had never seen what John Groves looked like when he was grown because she had killed her version of him almost twenty years ago. She failed to even register the resemblance between the man standing to her right and the boy whose last independent act had been to lunge at her with a kitchen knife as she sliced his arms off with an industrial fabrication laser.

Groves stepped away from her, backing straight into the wall. The violin and bow fell from his hands and clattered onto the floor. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how Petrellovitz had come to be here. None of the possibilities he came up with were remotely good.

The tooth was in the pocket of the blood-caked Terran uniform pants draped neatly across the back of the desk chair. Lorca retrieved it and held it out to Petrellovitz. "Here."

She darted forward, greedily snatching the tooth, but her focus on her prize was so all-encompassing she missed the look of determination on Lorca's face and realized too late that he had used the tooth to lure her in.

Lorca grabbed Petrellovitz's wrist, pulling her towards him and wrapping her in an embrace that pinned her arms to her sides. He had used the same move on Georgiou during the fight in the throne room, but this time, it felt like he had taken an ice pick to the chest as she slammed against him because he essentially had. He gasped painfully as his vision swam with spots. "Help me!" he wheezed at Groves.

Groves took one look at the squirming form of his not-sister and shook his head. "I'm not getting kicked again!" Apparently one physical altercation with his sister was enough to make him gun-shy forever.

Petrellovitz did kick, but only into the air, unbalancing Lorca and sending them both crashing back against the floor. A line appeared on Petrellovitz's neck as the seam of her new flesh tore.

"I'm gonna—I'll get Saru!" decided Groves, dashing out the open door. A second later he reappeared, hitting the external controls to seal Lorca and Petrellovitz in.

Petrellovitz struggled furiously and began to twist with the intent of kicking against the bed—a move that would seriously threaten the makeshift repairs in Lorca's chest. The anguished hiss of his breathing became a desperate whisper into her ear. "Petra! Petra, calm down!"

He released her and she bounced away. He rolled over onto his side in pain, inhaling shakily through clenched teeth and holding the breath until he felt in control again. When he exhaled, it was calmly. Then he sat up, resting his arms on his knees.

There was a smear of red across the white space invader on Lorca's borrowed shirt and a matching stain of red down the white of Petrellovitz's stolen Starfleet uniform. Petrellovitz herself would not have called it stolen because it fit as perfectly as if it had been tailor-made for her, just like Mischkelovitz's skin. How could you steal what was clearly meant to belong to you?

"You idiot," she scowled at him, pressing a hand to the gash on her neck. "Now they know it's me!"

"Believe me, Groves was halfway to that conclusion when you didn't answer him at the door."

The scowl twisted with annoyance. "Groves?" She recognized Corinne Narvic's maiden name and put the pieces together. Groves entirely had his mother's coloration: the same dusky brown skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. "You're telling me that's Johnny?"

Lorca shrugged and smirked. "Listen up. We don't have much time. How soon can you get your little mushroom transporter going again?"

"I'm done with mushrooms," said Petrellovitz, scanning the floor and spotting the tooth. It had landed under the bed in the scuffle. She crawled under to retrieve it.

"Unless you know of a better way for us to get back..."

"Back?" repeated Petrellovitz as she reemerged with the tooth. "Why the hell would I want to go back. For that matter, why do you?"

"Our people are counting on us."

Petrellovitz stared. "You lost, Gabriel. I'm not interested in watching you pick up the pieces or getting captured again because of you."

"Petra, you know me. I'll find a way. We can do it together, like Michael would've wanted. You can rule as an empress if you want. I'll back you."

"My god, you are pathetic. Good luck with that. I'm not helping you. I have research to do." She slipped the tooth into her pocket and stood up.

The door opened. Groves had returned with Saru.

"Commander!" exclaimed Petrellovitz in a voice an octave and a half higher than Lorca had ever heard her use. "Thank goodness you're here! I came to see my brother and he pushed me and said I was from the other universe! I'm not from the other universe. Here, you can scan me!" She pulled her sleeve partway up her right arm, offering it to Saru for inspection.

"Your brother is in sickbay," said Saru, confused.

"Other brother," offered Lorca, momentarily glad to see someone else on the other side of the reveal for once. He could see now why Groves enjoyed the mislead so much. It was so stupid and obvious in retrospect.

Saru was audibly bitter. "Mr. Groves."

"I..." Groves looked at the stranger masquerading as his sister and realized he was facing a dilemma. They both knew she was lying. They also both knew Mischkelovitz was gone and never coming back and there was nothing Groves could do to change this, except maybe lie like both their lives depended on it. "I'm sorry, Mischka. I thought... I guess I was wrong."

With a deep breath, Saru informed "Mischkelovitz" that, as innocent as her intentions were, she was not to be in this room. "Then can I speak to my brother for a moment?" she asked. "I promise I'll leave after and I won't come back."

"You may have five minutes," granted Saru.

The semisweet façade faded the moment Saru was gone. "You didn't have to do that," said Petra darkly.

"Yeah, well," said Groves, turning away from her. "You didn't trigger Saru's ganglia so I guess you're not a threat."

"Stay out of my way and that will remain true."

Lorca grunted as he used the table to heave himself back up. "So that's it? You're just gonna stay here and play pretend?"

"It's a clean slate," said Petrellovitz. "It's not pretend."

"These people are on the verge of losing a war against the Klingons."

"Whether they do or not doesn't matter. Humans, Klingons, money, power, love. All of these things are fleeting. Only science is eternal. You got in the way of my science, Gabriel, you and Michael both, with your piddling little power struggles and politics. All I ever wanted to do was pursue my research and everyone's always getting in the way. Not here. Here, I'm free to create a legacy that will stand the test of time. And they'll let me do it, too. Either side, whoever wins, will have a place for me. I'm only sorry I stuck with you as long as I did." She realized now, had she gone through the transporter herself instead of sending him, she could have had this universe months ago. She banged her fist twice on the door and Saru let her out. Out of the five minutes she had been given, she had barely used one.

Lorca could have called after her, tried to convince her with new promises and platitudes, but he knew it was pointless. Petrellovitz was gone and she was never coming back to him. The only reason she had stuck with Lorca to begin with was his promise of unfettered access to whatever research projects she wanted. For years that arrangement had worked for her, but now he could not provide any such access and she had no use for him.

Lorca sat down on Larsson's bed and pressed his face into his hands. Groves watched with wary concern. It was impossible to read the intent of Lorca's face when his expression was covered. Then Lorca shuddered as he inhaled and Groves realized he did not need Lorca's face to know what the former captain was presently feeling.

"I'm sorry," said Groves, and for the first time, he meant it.

"Don't you pity me!" spat Lorca.

Groves sat down opposite Lorca. "Never," he said. He reached under his pillow and pulled out something wrapped in a hand towel. "I think this is yours."

It was a cookie. Not the fortune kind, the regular sort with chocolate chips, purloined from Lorca's dinner tray. Groves had not eaten it, merely tucked it away to save for later.

Sighing, Lorca took the cookie and broke off a morsel. "You know, Saru's ganglia aren't infallible. I never tripped 'em."

"Why would you? You weren't actually a threat to us. I mean, you've done a lot of crap, but in your own way, you were trying to help."

The cookie did not offer the same comfort as its fortune-filled cousin. "I thought I was human cancer."

"Cancer is just cell growth gone awry," said Groves with a shrug. "Perfectly natural and necessary part of life. Anyway, I had to play along. Think about it. If we don't match history closely enough, we'll disappear just like the holo-recording did. History says you died. History also says Emellia lived long enough to record something that no longer exists. Which means..."

Which meant nothing Lorca did for the rest of his life would make a mark in history. It was his destiny to die a forgotten echo of another man, doing nothing, being nothing.

John Allan stepped out from the wall and was confronted by his own disappointment. Lab 26 was empty, exactly as it should have been at this point in history, but some part of him had hoped it would be otherwise.

After twelve years on this assignment, it was hard to let go. He had learned the hard way that history had a way of surprising you and he would have liked one last surprise. A chance to say a real goodbye.

He was still dressed in the Terran uniform he had been wearing at the moment of his exposure as a temporal agent. On some level, the black suited him. Temporal agents were supposed to be like shadows, watching and safeguarding history without being entangled in it, and the uniform made him look the part even if he had failed miserably at being a shadow in the end.

Literally at the end. Twelve years and no one had suspected a thing. At least now he knew why "John Allan" disappeared from the historical record during Discovery's time in the mirror universe. That had always been a question mark with this assignment. Now he knew it was because he had been exposed.

Allan had failed to be a perfect shadow, but he had completed both his mission objectives: first, to guard the scientists Mischkelovitz, progenitors of the research and development of temporal stasis field technology (a crucial advantage in the temporal war and subsequently a banned technology), and second, to bring back the data from Discovery's jaunt in the mirror universe, because on that count, the historical record was severely lacking. Now the future would have a full record of events from someone who had lived them. History had helpfully even preselected the man for the job centuries before his own birth.

With a full copy of Discovery security archives prior to the wipe in his pocket, Allan finally had everything he needed to report in and no further reason to stay here.

So why was this so hard? He touched a finger to Mischkelovitz's desk.

As he wondered this, the transceiver in his dental implant vibrated in alert, signaling the arrival of another agent. A shimmer of black materialized in front of him.

No, not another agent. He stared at his own face in surprise.

They were both wearing the black uniforms of the Terran Empire. For a moment Allan worried he had brought back his mirror counterpart, but something in the other Allan's eyes told him he was looking at himself.

"Hey," they both said at the same time, which was all the confirmation either of them needed to know where they stood.

The second Allan was holding a portable jumper in his hands. These were highly controlled devices typically issued only to transit agents, not active assets, because the danger of such devices falling into the wrong hands was tremendous. "I remember standing where you are," said the second Allan. "Which is why I know it's time for me to give you this." He held out the jumper.

Allan took it, confused. "Why?"

Allan II held up a silver holodisc. "Because of this."

The message was as confusing to Allan as it was miraculous. "Mischka in the winter, okay, but bells and pots...?"

"Null time," supplied Allan II.

"Ah!" It made perfect sense in context. Add a chronitic contaminant to the spore canisters. Allan smiled.

"The destinations are already preset. Here's the Crestian flu for Chaudhuri and the T-nox agent for the spores. Careful not to confuse them. I know you won't, I just had to say it because I remember hearing it. Safe trip."

The first Allan vanished. A second later he walked out from the wall. "You lied," he said, holding up the holodisc. "Where did this come from?"

The other Allan smiled. "The original timeline." He shook his head, overtly pleased for having succeeded in tricking himself so thoroughly. "It was brilliant, really. Do you see how she did it? How we did it?"

"You're not me," said Allan. He had figured it out when he was standing in front of the spore canisters and realized the only way he could have pinpointed the exact date and time she referred to as "the time the lights went out" was if he had lived something that matched what she described, and he hadn't.

There was also no way the recording could exist if they were in a closed loop which had never required the message's creation; like energy, temporal information had to come from somewhere. That meant the loop was not closed.

"No," confirmed the other Allan. "I'm not. I'm an echo from another timeline. A timeline where it took Melly thirty more years to finish Milosz's work and develop the temporal stasis field. That was her great contribution to history. She did it here, too, but thirty years sooner. Passing her own research notes back to herself. End result: no discernible change to the outcome of history."

Allan's eyes teared up because even if Mischkelovitz had not changed her role in history, her fate had been drastically altered and that mattered a great deal to him.

Allan II continued, "I actually tried to do the changes myself, but when I went to make the first one, I saw you doing it instead. Turns out I didn't need to do anything, I just needed to tell you to. The question was, when? Then I realized I just had to scan for the point where the jumper was active twice. This point here. So now, can I have my jumper back?"

Allan considered that.

"Come on," said the other Allan, beckoning with his hand. "It is mine. And they'll retrieve you when you activate your transponder."

Allan wasn't sure if he trusted himself. To him, this felt like his mirror counterpart. "What are you going to use it for?"

"I'm going to give that bastard a piece of my mind."

There was no need to ask what bastard the other Allan was referring to. Allan desperately wanted to give Lorca a piece of his mind, too. This way, it would be like he was, even if he wasn't the one delivering the message personally. He handed the jumper back to the other Allan. "Do me a favor, will you?"

"For you?" smirked the other Allan, because of course he was willing to do a favor for himself. "Anything!"

"Tell him I'll never forgive him for what he did to Melly."

"You got it. Do me a favor and don't tell anyone I exist?" Allan II activated his jumper and was gone.

The Allan who had been born into and participated in this version of the timeline lingered in the lab, wondering how the other version of him could be satisfied with causing this version of events. Lorca alive, Mischkelovitz dead and skinned, three monsters from the mirror universe roaming free in their universe. How could this possibly be an improvement on the original events? He took a moment to compose himself before activating his transponder for remote retrieval.

But then, the other Allan had only intersected with the timeline in this universe briefly. Once to see himself performing the necessary changes, once to deliver the instructions. He had not been hiding on Discovery and watching events unfold in real-time and seen the truth. So far as he knew from his scan of the historical record, Lorca was dead, Mischkelovitz had recovered from an injury caused by her implants, and everything had turned out the same in the end.

That was the information the temporal remnant known as John Allan had happily taken as justification to jump back and accompany Discovery to the mirror universe again. After all, he had a jumper and no one in this timeline knew he existed. Why not take the opportunity to torment the tyrannical Terran captain in the hours before his death? After that, he could go anywhere he wanted in time and, so long as he kept his head down, witness firsthand all of his favorite historical events. It was a time traveler's dream come true.

In the end, neither John Allan truly understood the nuances of time travel. All they could do was act according to the information they had, as they had always been fated to do.

Part 99

[brokehorrorfan]

Best New Horror Movies on Netflix: Winter 2018

There's an overwhelming amount of horror movies to sift through on Netflix, so I've decided to take out some of the legwork by compiling a list of the season’s best new genre titles available on Netflix’s instant streaming service.

Please feel free to leave a comment with any I may have missed and share your thoughts on any of the films you watch. You can also peruse past installments of Best New Horror Moves on Netflix for more suggestions.

1. Gerald's Game

IT was undoubtedly the most entertaining Stephen King adaptation in recent memory, but Gerald's Game may be the most tense. The novel - which revolves around a middle-aged married couple's attempt to spice up their love life - was seemingly un-filmable, but director Mike Flanagan (Oculus, Ouija: Origin of Evil) takes a creative yet logical approach to successfully translate the story from the page to the screen. The direction is stylish, despite largely involving only two actors in a single bedroom. Carla Gugino (Watchmen) and Bruce Greenwood (Star Trek) star, both delivering brilliant performances, with Henry Thomas (E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial) and Carel Struycken (The Addams Family) in chilling supporting roles. Its left-field epilogue won't work for some, but the film remains a suspenseful, dead-filled experience that includes perhaps the most cringe-inducing sequence of the year.

2. 1922

1922 is an adaptation of a little-known Stephen King novella, published in his 2010 collection, Full Dark, No Stars. Like much of King's work, it doesn't shy away from the supernatural, yet it's firmly grounded in reality. The always-reliable Thomas Jane delivers a transformative performance in his third King film (following Dreamcatcher and The Mist). He stars as Wilfred James, a conflicted man who confesses to murdering his wife (Molly Parker. Deadwood) with the aid of his son (Dylan Schmid, Once Upon a Time) in 1922. Akin to Edgar Allan Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart," Wilfred's unbearable guilt manifests itself. Cinematographer Ben Richardson (The Fault in Our Stars) utilizes a lot of natural light, while Faith No More's Mike Patton composes an atonal score. Writer-director Zak Hilditch (whose previous film, These Final Hours, is also worth seeking out) delivers a brooding, character-driven slow burner.

3. Raw

Raw made waves on the festival circuit when it caused multiple viewers to faint. It is indeed a uniquely repulsive film in more ways than one might expect - depicting everything from animal dissecting to bikini waxing to eye licking in graphic detail - but it's much more than a mindless gorefest. The French film is a compelling, darkly humorous coming-of-age story... with cannibalism. The plot revolves around Justine (Garance Marillier), a young vegetarian, as she enters her first semester at veterinary school. She receives the full college experience: hazing, coed living, experimentation, partying, flesh eating. Marillier's fearless performance is matched by a strong vision from writer-director Julia Ducournau.

4. Super Dark Times

From the first act of Super Dark Times, you might expect it to be a coming-of-age genre tale in the vein of Stranger Things and IT, but by the end you will find a film that shares more in common with River's Edge and Stand By Me. It's set in the '90s, complete with scrambled "adult" channels, but it doesn't beat the viewer over the head with nostalgia. Owen Campbell (The Americans) and Charlie Tahan (Ozark) star as best friends with a secret that drives a wedge between them. Co-writers Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski (Siren) capture the adolescent banter better than most films, while director Kevin Phillips makes an impressive feature debut. Living up to its title, Super Dark Times is a dark, tense experience.

5. Cult of Chucky

Child’s Play is a rare horror franchise that has maintained its original continuity, thanks to having Don Mancini - who has written every installment and directed the latter three - as the driving creative force. Cult of Chucky, the seventh entry in the series, brings together the franchise’s three distinct story lines - Nica (Fiona Dourif) from Curse of Chucky, Andy Barclay (Alex Vincent) from Child’s Play 1-3, and Tiffany (Jennifer Tilly) from Bride/Seed of Chucky. Taking cues from A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warrior, the film takes place in a mental institution, where Nica bonds with the members of her therapy group. When they start dying one by one, Nica struggles to convince anyone that a possessed doll named Chucky (voiced, as always, by Brad Dourif) is responsible. Mancini’s well-paced script is fearless in its exploration of delightfully weird ideas, in addition to balancing the more serious tone with lighthearted fun. The result is as close as you can get to pleasing fans of all eras of Chucky. Read my full review of the film here.

6. The Bar

The Bar is the latest effort from reliable Spanish filmmaker Álex de la Iglesia (The Oxford Murders). It finds a group of strangers trapped in a seedy bar in downtown Madrid. Anyone that tries to leave is killed by an unseen assailant, with their bodies disappearing - blood and all - when no one is looking. Reminiscent of an episode of The Twilight Zone, suspicion grows and intrigue builds as the group must come together to solve the mystery. Iglesia does a fine job establishing an ensemble of quirky characters in a short time and then maintaining that momentum throughout the duration. He also injects his signature dark humor into the plot, helping to further set it apart from other contained thrillers.

7. Creep 2

2014's Creep (which is also streaming on Netflix and should be viewed first) was perhaps the last good, original found footage movie, made on a shoestring budget with copious improvisation. Star/co-writer Mark Duplass (Safety Not Guaranteed), whose eerie performance as an idiosyncratic murderer anchored Creep, and director/co-writer Patrick Brice return for Creep 2, which slightly expands the mythology without sacrificing the intimacy that made the first film so effective. Duplass' character now goes by Aaron, assuming not only the name of Brice's character from the first Creep but also his interest in filmmaking. Sara (Desiree Akhavan) responds to Aaron's Craigslist ad looking for a videographer, and it’s not long after their meeting that he admits to being a serial killer. But Aaron is going through a bit of a midlife crisis, so he employs Sara to film a documentary about him. Much like the first Creep, not a whole lot happens before the climax, but Duplass' eccentric character and vulnerable performance keep you watching with bated breath.

8. Killing Ground

Killing Ground is an unapologetic Australian thriller in the vein of Eden Lake, Wolf Creek, Deliverance, and The Hills Have Eyes. In other words, it's an intense punch in the gut. In the film, a couple's romantic camping trip is interrupted by unhinged locals against whom they must fight for survival. The familiar set-up is elevated by intriguing flashbacks to events a few days prior to the main story, the context of which adds even more weight to the harrowing situation. Although not the most original story ever told, Killing Ground is an effective, realistic debut for writer-director Damien Power.

9. Veronica

Verónica is a Spanish-language psychological thriller from Mexico. Co-directors Carlos Algara and Alejandro Martinez-Beltran opted to shoot the film in black and white with gorgeous, precise cinematography, bringing to mind the recent The Eyes of My Mother. A psychologist (Arcelia Ramírez) is offered a substantial sum of money to take on the evasive yet intelligent Veronica de la Serna (Olga Segura) as a patient. It's a simple set-up, consisting of little more than dialogue between the two characters, but the intriguing therapy sessions slowly reveal Veronica's deep-seated issues. The plot takes an unexpected, exciting turn for the final act, but it ultimately leads to a twist that is trite and, frankly, unnecessary. But don't let that deter you; the rest of the film is positively riveting.

10. Red Christmas

Red Christmas is a holiday horror film that - despite hailing from Australia - captures the typical Christmas season quite well, complete with the family drama it often entails. It also addresses the topical subject of reproductive rights, employs both a genre legend (E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial's Dee Wallace, in one of her strongest performances in years) and an actor with Down syndrome (Gerard O'dwyer), and tells a decent horror story in the process. Similar to You're Next, the film features a killer interrupting a strained family gathering, blending home invasion and slasher influences. It won’t replace any of the classics, but Red Christmas is a fine addition to the Christmas horror pantheon. Read my full review of the film here.

11. Don't Kill It

Don't Kill It is a fun amalgam of horror, action, comedy, and western from director Mike Mendez (Big Ass Spider). A rash of homicides - in which each killer murders the previous killer - lead FBI agent Evelyn Pierce (Kristina Klebe, Halloween) back to the podunk Mississippi town she once called home in order to investigate the case. She reluctantly teams with Jebediah Woodley (Dolph Lundgren, Rocky IV), a self-described demon hunter, to stop the body-hopping demon on the loose. There are a couple of big, bloody set pieces that make the abundance of exposition worthwhile. Clocking in at a lean 83 minutes, the film plays like a more charming and entertaining version of a Syfy original movie.

Bonus: Dark

Comparisons between Dark and Stranger Things are inevitable - both Netflix original series concern a mystery of a missing child in a small town in which supernatural elements are at play - but Dark approaches the material in am much more subtle, subversive manner. In addition to Stranger Things' coming-of-age through a genre lens, the German show has the mind-bending rhetoric of Donnie Darko and the mystique of Twin Peaks, with a touch of Back to the Future for good measure. There may be a few too many characters for its own good, but the story - in which a disappearance in the present is somehow tied to similar events that occurred in 1986 - is undeniably well told and well shot. I'm already eager to binge a second season.

Bonus: Mindhunter

Mindhunter is an original series from executive producer David Fincher (Gone Girl, Seven), who also directs several episodes, with Joe Penhall (The Road) serving as showrunner. Based on the true crime book Mind Hunter: Inside the FBI’s Elite Serial Crime Unit, it follows FBI agents Holden Ford (Jonathan Groff. Glee) and Bill Tench (Holt McCallany, Alien 3) as they conduct interviews with convicted murderers in the late '70s for their groundbreaking work in behavioral science. After an attention-grabbing opening scene, the show takes a couple of episodes to gain momentum, but it's virtually impossible to look away after that. There's an abundance of heady dialogue, in typical Fincher fashion, though it's never short of enthralling.