#keeping beth would ALWAYS have dragged her down because she could not have grown from it

[queenlnss-a]

Hey talk about how Quinn giving Beth up was the best decision she could’ve made

- ̗̀   META  TOPICS.      /      @awesomegaydar​​  !

OKAY,  SO,  THE  MOST  IMPORTANT          thing  to  remember  about  Quinn  is  that  one  of  her    primary  goals    from  start  to  finish  has  always  been  to  make  something  of  herself,  and  whether  it  is  for  the  right  or  wrong  reasons,  it  doesn’t  matter    (  after  all,  a  bad  reputation  is  better  than  no  reputation  at  all,  am  I  right  ?  ),    because  she  had  a  goal  in  mind  and  she  was  going  to  get  there  no  matter  what  ‘cause  that  is the  kind  of  person  she  is.  She  is  constantly  seeking  MORE.  One  of  her  main  motivations  has  always  been  the  possibility  of    l e a v i n g    Lima,  which  is  seen  by  most  of  the  younger  generation  anyway  as  a  dead  end  road    (  “  I  really  thought  I  had  a  shot  at  getting  out  of  here.  ”    1.04,  Preggers  ).

                    It’s  not  even  just  Quinn  who  strives  for  more,  her  friends  do,  too.  The  MAJORITY  of  the  New  Directions  seek  out  further  education  outside  of  Ohio,  including  most  of  Quinn’s  classmates  and  several  of  the  underclassmen.  The  only  time  Quinn  has  ever    resigned    herself  to  the  idea  of  living  in  Lima  and  spending  the  rest  of  her  life  there  is  when  she  was  dating  Finn  again  back  in  season  two.  At  that  particular  point  in  time,  her  goal  was  keeping  him  at  her  side  and  getting  back  what  she  had  lost  with  him  the  year  prior.  That  was  how  she  felt  whole  and  how  she  got  closure  to  their  relationship.  Any  time  before  and  after  that,  she  sought  out  a  different  future  for  herself  and  ALWAYS  had  a  high  expectation  for  what  her  life  would  be.  If  she  had  kept  Beth,  if  she  had  become  a  mother  at  such  a  young  age,  it  would  have  meant  staying  behind  and  watching  her  friends  move  on  to  bigger  and  better  things,  and  as  a  person  who  so    actively    worked  to  keep  her  grades  HIGH  and  made  a  genuine  effort  when  it  came  to  her  education  —–  despite  the  many  obstacles  in  her  way  —–  it  just  doesn’t  realistically  add  up.

                    Never  forget  that  at  the  time  of  her  pregnancy,  Quinn  was    sixteen    years  old.  Her  priorities  in  life  at  that  age  were  being  popular,  pleasing  her  parents,  attending  Cheerios  practice,  keeping  her  boyfriend,  and  maintaining  her  REPUTATION.  She  was  not  prepared  for  motherhood  and  was  absolutely    g u t t e d    about  being  pregnant.  She  did  not  want  a  child.  Right  from  the  start,  she  was  absolutely  adamant  that  she  would  not  keep  the  baby,  and  went  through  great  lengths  to  prove  it,  including  making  a  deal  with  Will’s  wife,  Terri  so  that  they  could  have  it  when  it  was  born.  She  did  not  give  the  child  a  name  and    d i s m i s s e d    any  efforts  either  of  the  boys  made  to  name  it.  Even  when  Puck  offers  up  the  name  Beth  during  Theatricality,  you  will  notice  that  she  does  not  say  yes  or  no,  and  it’s  not  Quinn  who  gives  her  that  name,  it  is  Puck.  Quinn  merely    smiles    in  response.  There  is  absolutely  nothing  to  indicate  her  wanting  to  keep  the  baby,  because  she  knows  that  if  she  ever  wants  to  make  something  of  her  life,  she  would  be  better  without  it.  The  ONE  THING  she  makes  an  effort  for,  in  regards  to  that  baby  is  its  health,  which  is  why  she  decides  to  pick  up  a  more  healthy,  balanced  diet  in  order  to  make  sure  it  has  enough  in  order  to  develop  and  grow  inside  her.  She  understood  that  for  it  be  strong,  she  had  to  be  strong,  also.

                    Now  comes  the    what - ifs    and  the  dozen  factors  that  would  have  held  her  back.

                    Quinn  did  not  have  a  job  during  season  one,  and  did  not  think  she  had  any  reason  to  pick  up  one  herself,  which  is  why  she  held  so  tightly  onto  Finn.  He  was  her  source  of  money  and  support  at  the  start  of  her  pregnancy.  She    pushed    for  him  to  get  a  job  so  that  HE  could  pay  the  hospital  bills  and  her  parents  wouldn’t  find  out,  and  when  he  broke  up  with  her,  she  ended  up  with  Puck,  who  was  always  her  second  choice.  His  job  was  a  side - business.  It  was  not  his  primary  focus  at  that  time,  and  he  did  not  get  that  much  money  for  it,  because  let’s  face  it,  pool  cleaning  isn’t  exactly  the  most  popular  service  in  the  middle  of  Lima,  Ohio    (  Puck  said  it,  not  me  ),    and  we  find  out  later  on  down  the  line  that  even  he  doesn’t  want  to  stick  around  town.    If  she’d  have  kept  the  baby,  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  would  have  picked  up  a  job  eventually,  but  there  probably  would  have  been  at  least  two  to  three  months  post - birth  where  she  had  no  money  and  was  looking  after  a  kid  on  her  own  AS  WELL  as  balancing  her  education  on  the  side.  It  would  have  overworked  her,  and  Quinn  knows  her  limits    (  “  I’m  not  Superwoman,  ”    1.06,  Vitamin  D  ).    Her  family  would  never  have  supported  her.  She  was  homeless  and  struggling  to  cope  on  her  own  while  pregnant.  Yes,  Judy  had  offered  to  take  her  back  in,  but  that  was  only  AFTER  she  found  out  that  Russel  was  cheating  on  her.  What  if  she  had  never  come  back  ?  What  would  Quinn  have  done  then  ?  I’m  certain  that  Mercedes’  family  wouldn’t  have  kept  her  on  long - term,  despite  their    i n i t i a l    kindness.  They  wouldn’t  have  turned  on  her,  per  se,  but  I  can’t  imagine  two  complete  strangers  letting  someone  stay  at  their  place  with  a  newborn  for  an  indefinite  period  of  time,  and  even  if  they  did,  what  about  when  Mercedes  finishes  school  and  starts  to  pursue  her  future  ?

                    I  would  just  like  to  clarify  that  this  is  not  to  say  that  no  person  under  the  age  of  eighteen  is  capable  of  bringing  up  and  raising  a  child.  I  know  plenty  of  people  who  had  unexpected  children  in  the  midst  of  their  teenage  years  and  were  just  fine.  Every  person  is    d i f f e r e n t,    and  everyone  has  their  own  experiences  and  copes  in  their  own  way.  Some  people  can  have  a  child  at  the  age  of  sixteen  and  be  able  to  move  on  with  their  life  and  do  great,  wonderful  things,  while  also  dealing  with  teenage  parenthood,  while  others  may  end  up  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  tracks.  In  Quinn’s  case,  I    do  not    believe  that  being  a  teen  mom  would  have  worked  out  in  her  favour,  not  just  for  the  reasons  already  listed,  but  also  because  over  the  series,  she  shows  a  great  deal  of    r e s e n t m e n t    towards  her  pregnancy.  

                    She  lost  EVERYTHING  she’d  ever  cared  about.  She  had  no  family,  very  few  friends,  no  home,  no  one  to  turn  to  and  not  much  to  call  her  own.  It  made  her  incredibly    angry    and  frustrated  at  the  world,  because  it  was  not  what  she  wanted,  nor  what  she  had  expected  of  herself    (  “  Look  at  me,  look  at  my  life  —————  I’m  furious  !  ”    1.21,  Funk  ).    Notice  how  she  only  clings  onto  the  idea  of  getting  Beth  back  in  season  three  because  she  felt  like  she  had  nothing  left  to  motivate  her    (  “  Beth  is  perfect.  She’s  my  perfect  thing,  something  even  I  can’t  screw  up.  Do  you  know  how  hard  it  is  for  someone  to  do  something  perfectly  ?  I’ll  never  get  the  chance  again,  so  even  if  I  never  leave  this  town  or  accomplish  anything,  I’ll  have  her  to  call  mine.  ”    3x04,  Pot  o’  Gold  )  ?  She  saw  Beth  as  her  POSSESSION,  something  that  she  had  to  steal  back  because  she  felt  like  she  had  rights  just  because  she’d  given  birth  to  her.  That  is  not  a  healthy  mindset  for  any  aspiring  parent.  You  should  not  have  a  child  in  order  to  fix  your  bruised  ego  or  your  broken  pride.  It’s  selfish  and     d a m a g i n g,    not  just  for  the  child,  but  also  for  yourself  and  your  OWN  mental  state    (  and  let’s  be  real,  okay,  Quinn’s  mental  state  is  a  whole  other  story  for  another  time  ).

                    But  to  summarise,  Quinn  is  an  ambitious  and  committed  individual  who,  after  giving  birth  and  letting  go  of  that  child,  was  always  on  the  search  for  ways  to  BETTER  herself.  She  preaches  about  women  finding  themselves  in  their  thirties  and  very  vocally  disagrees  with  her  friends  with  they  tell  the  class  that  they  want  to  get  married  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  Quinn  might  have  been  an  amazing  mom,  and  there’s  no  doubting  that  she  would  have  made  Beth  her  whole  world,  but  she  could    never    have  been  able  to  get  to  the  level  of  maturity  she  had  by  the  end  of  season  three  had  she  not  given  her  away.  She  would  never  have  been  able  to  figure  out  her  own  life  because  her  life  would  always  have  belonged  to  someone  else.  Putting  herself  FIRST  and  learning  how  to  be  independent  and  move  on  from  her  childhood  at  her  own  pace  was  the    b e s t    thing  she  could  have  done  for  herself,  and  by  far    h e a l t h i e s t    choice  she’s  ever  made.  She  had  to  learn  about    herself    before  devoting  her  life  to  someone  who  would  have  needed  all  of  her  attention  for  the  first  three  to  four  years  of  their  life,  which  only  would  have  taken  from  her  and  MINIMALISED  her  as  a  person.  That’s  how  she  grew  from  being  a  bully  and  a  menace  to  a  level - headed  and  wise  young  woman.  That’s  how  she    m a t u r e d    and  became  an  adult.

[dixonsmonroe]

Near To You

Summary: Daryl and Rick had everything, until they didn’t. But when Daryl meets Jesus, he learns that there are always second chances when it comes to love.

Pairing: Daryl x Rick, Daryl x Jesus

Word count: 4k

Author’s notes: i actually found this in my google docs other day and apparently i wrote this 2 years ago so enjoy!

Warning: mentions of smut (18+), fluff, pining, canon level violence, i will never stop loving desus

Daryl hadn’t taken kindly to Rick right away. He didn’t like him when they were still at the camp and Rick had a gun to Daryl’s head, and told him in his best ‘good-cop’ voice, “We don’t kill the living.” It was like that for a while; anytime Rick started off on his pep talks, Daryl wanted to knock him in the teeth. The longer Merle was gone, though, the pep talks became less annoying and even kind of comforting.

After they left the CDC and ended up at the farm, Daryl still kept his distance, but did whatever Rick needed him to. He actually enjoyed being around him, and working in a group as a team. He felt useful around the farm; it was work he knew how to do. He also noticed the only time he was ever annoyed at Rick anymore was when Shane was around. Shane would make some dumbass remark, Daryl would antagonize him, and Rick would keep them from fighting. Shane would leave and Rick would just look apologetically at Daryl, who would shrug it off and assure everything was fine.

Nothing had ever happened until the prison. They had been there for a while, and after Lori died, Rick had started to come back to them bit by bit. He was currently in a peaceful farming phase, which was plentiful for the group, but still a little out of character.

Rick met Daryl in the guard tower for first watch shifts after everyone went to bed.

“The place is lookin’ good,” Rick looked out over the whole prison, over the crops they had grown and the reinforcements around the walls. “We really made this place home.”

“Took a lotta work, but it was worth it.” Daryl replied, smoking his cigarette, “You got us all here.”

“Couldn’t have done it without my right hand,” he smiled. Daryl stifled a grin and looked away, trying not to let Rick see him blush.

They had been together like this a thousand times, just the two of them, hanging out. They were best friends, they were family. But sometimes Rick would laugh a certain way or he’d get all focused and solemn or he would push his hair out of his face and Daryl would freeze up. Rick was a strong leader, and a good friend. He had Daryl’s full loyalty.

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked.

“Much better. Rick nodded. “I know I lost it a little bit, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m figuring things out.”

“You need anything, lemme know.”

Rick stared out the window in silence for a few moments. “There might be something.”

Daryl glanced at Rick, who was now looking at him, albeit a bit nervously.

“What’s that?”

Rick looked hesitant now, like he was mentally backing out of whatever he was going to say. He leaned closer to Daryl still, until their hands were touching. Daryl glanced at Rick out of the corner of his eye. He could feel Rick’s body heat so incredibly close, and it made him shiver. Rick finally took his hand and held it as they looked out across the yard. Daryl fought back a grin and gave Rick’s hand a squeeze, leaning against him.

Nothing more had happened until about two weeks later. In those two weeks there had still been plenty of secret hand holding, stolen smiles and glances, the like. But one day after an especially tolling run, Daryl had made his decision. It had been rough out there; it was him, Rick, and Maggie, the car had stalled and they almost got taken out by a hoard. Daryl watched Rick almost get bit and he felt like he was about to lose everything he cared about. He had thrown the walker off of him after stabbing it and helped Rick up. He patted Daryl’s shoulder and nodded towards the car.

The moment they knew they were completely alone back at the prison, Daryl kissed Rick. The best part was Rick kissed him back, as if this was normal, as if it was how it had always been. Rick’s hand went to Daryl’s cheek and they leaned their foreheads together.

“I—“ Daryl started but Rick cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to do it first, but I couldn’t find the right time.”

“Me too.” Daryl replied. “Figured you almost dyin’ was as good a reason as any.”

Rick chuckled, leaning back a bit, thumb running over Daryl’s cheekbone.

That was how it was after that. They didn’t tell anyone, not Glenn, not Carol, not anybody. There were nights where they would sneak off to an abandoned cell or hallway and just take their time, take in every bit of each other.

One night was different. Rick still had Daryl pushed up against the wall, still inside of him as they came down, slowing their breathing.

“I love you,” Rick breathed out so quietly, Daryl wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. He just turned his head around his shoulder and kissed Rick sweet and soft. Rick’s eyes were a little wide, pride and ego slowly melting away.

“I love you,” Daryl said finally. Of course he did. He always had.

It was like that for a while; sneaking off to fuck after everyone went to sleep, spending guard shifts paying attention to their job, but also pausing to make out like teenagers or just talking about everything. It was bliss Daryl had never experienced in his life, and it was with his absolute best friend.

The day the prison got broken into, Daryl left with Beth and there was no sign of Rick anywhere.

He and Beth had been through some shit, Daryl had gotten drunk and acted like a total asshole, and Beth was nothing but understanding, even though he may not have deserved it. That night, they sat on the porch of the house they had found, having a heart to heart. Beth, even with her naive nature that made Daryl have hope but also made him a little bitter. He’d never had the option to be optimistic in his life, always on high alert.

“You wanna know what I was before all this?” Daryl asked softly. “I was no one. Nothin’.”

Beth looked sad for a moment, but nodded for him to keep going.

“Until I found Rick and the group.” He continued. He had never told anyone about him and Rick, never ever. But Beth was understanding, and as much as she talked or sang or whatever, he knew he could trust her. She and Maggie felt like the younger sisters he never had.

“Rick and I—“ he took a breath before he spilled all the things he had never told anyone. “We were together. We’ve always been close, always been his right hand. But at some point it was more than that.”

Beth grinned dreamily. “Do you love him?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face thinking about it. Everything was shit right now, but despite everything he’d said when he yelled at her earlier, he knew they had to find Rick and their family.

“We’ll find them again,” Beth reassured. “We’re going to.”

He had lost Beth. He was alone, until he found the Claimers. He missed Beth, he missed having someone he trusted and who kept him sane. These guys were brutal, they were guys he knew not to cross.

The night they had found the guy Joe was looking for, Daryl heard a voice and immediately knew who he was.

Daryl heard Joe threatening Rick, so he stepped out of the shadows.

“Joe!” he said, causing him to turn towards Daryl. “You gotta let these guys go. They’re good people.”

He made quick eye contact with Rick, careful not to give anything away but screaming on the inside because Rick looked both terrified and relieved to see him. Michonne looked angry, but also so fucking scared at the same time.

He argued with Joe, he really tried.

“Hey, you want blood. I get it.” Daryl put his crossbow down and held his arms out. “Take it from me, man.”

The blows started almost immediately. The other Claimers just started wailing on him as hard as they could. He was praying he didn’t crack a rib or get kicked in the face or fucking die.

Joe’s voice was barely audible to him, Daryl’s heart pounding in his ears. “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we’re gonna have the girl. Then the boy. Then I’m gonna kill you.”

Daryl knew he had to get up, he had to fight back, he had to save them. He had seen a man drag Carl out of the car and throw him on the ground, holding him down and unbuckling his belt. Oh, fuck no.

He listened to Rick plead with Joe, pleaded with him to let his son go, just let him go.

A gunshot rang through the air. The men stopped beating Daryl, and he got up to fight. It was rough, and he saw Rick stagger against the noise, and when Rick seemed almost incapable of fighting any longer, he looked Joe in the eye.

“What are you gonna do now?” Joe taunted, before Rick bit down on his neck and tore out his jugular.

Daryl couldn’t believe what he just saw, Rick unhinged and willing to do anything to protect his own.

They killed the other men, left them in the road and rested until morning.

Rick was sitting on the ground, back against the car, still covered in blood. Daryl poured a little water on a rag and handed it to him.

“We should save that to drink.” Rick said.

“You can’t see yourself, he can.” Daryl nodded toward Carl in the car. Daryl sat down next to him while he cleaned his face. “I didn’t know what they were.” he said sadly.

“How’d you end up with them?”

Daryl looked down at his lap. “I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while.”

There was a pause of silence until Rick asked if she was dead. Daryl shook his head and said she was just gone. He told him how he ended up with the Claimers, how they were looking for some guy, how he’d almost left them, but didn’t.

“That’s when I saw it was you three, right when you saw me.” His voice was sad and low. “I didn’t know what they could do.”

“It’s not on you, Daryl.” Rick took his hand. “You bein’ back here with us now, that’s everything.”

This was the first bit of physical contact they’d had since the prison. Daryl finally felt warm, even with how much he hurt after being beaten half to death, Rick’s hand on his was everything he needed right now.

“I love you,” Rick said quietly. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Daryl nodded, and gave his hand a squeeze. Rick said it, but Daryl could tell he was still shaken up.

“Hey, what you did last night; Anybody would’ve done that.” he said reassuringly.

“No, not that.” Rick replied. Now he looked like he was trying to hold himself together. Rick had gotten violent before, but it was always to protect someone. His family was in danger and he saved them. “It ain’t all of it, but that’s me.”

Daryl knew how sad he looked, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re a good man. You protect your own,” Daryl lowered his voice a bit. “You’re the person I fell in love with, no matter what you do.”

Rick leaned into him until his head was resting on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl kissed the top of his head and squeezed his hand.

They made it through Terminus. They made it through Grady hospital. They had most of the group back.

They lost Beth.

Daryl barely spoke the entire time they walked towards Washington. His family was there for him, and gave him enough space at the same time. Now that they had more people, Rick was busy leading all of them. Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, but they began to drift apart. Things were rough, until they found Alexandria. Rick became constable, and had been making friends --and enemies-- all over. Most people respected him, but Daryl felt so out of place.

Rick had spent two nights at Daryl’s house, making sure to not draw attention to themselves. They had sex that night, but it was different. Rick was there with him, of course, but it almost felt sad. Like it was the last time they would be like this. They fit together so well before, but after all this time apart and everything they went through, they were different people.

The next night, they didn’t even fuck. They physically slept together, but that was it. Daryl had been wanting to have this conversation for a while, but he obviously didn’t want to do it after sex.

“Are you good?” Daryl asked as they lay next to each other.

Rick had his elbow on the pillow and rested his face in his hand as he turned towards Daryl. “I’m good. Are you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Feels like things are different. With us.”

Rick nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a lot goin’ on. I’m sorry I haven’t made time for us.”

Daryl shook his head. “Don’t feel bad. You’re doing so much good for everyone.” Daryl sat up then, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know you’ve been eyeing Jessie. I noticed it almost the moment we got here.”

Rick sat up and put his hand on his shoulder. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Nothing has ever happened with her.”

“I know,” Daryl said sadly. “But I get it. I ain’t the last person on earth.”

“Daryl, I know there’s still people out there, but I made the choice to be with you, you’re not just some guy.” Rick said firmly, but Daryl heard his voice falter. “You’re not just some option.”

“I love you,” Daryl said quietly. “I’ve always loved you and I always will. But I don’t want to hold you back. I’ll always be here for you when you need me, I’ll always do anything for you.”

Rick’s voice cracked. “But?”

Daryl finally looked at him and took in the heartbreak on his face. “But I need to let you go. I want you to be happy, and I’m not what makes you happy anymore.”

Rick looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, but after a moment Daryl could tell he was done denying the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Daryl took Rick into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “At least stay tonight?”

“Of course,” Rick said. “Anything for you.”

It took a few weeks before Daryl’s heart stopped feeling like it was going to fall into his stomach every time he saw Rick. He knew Rick had kissed Jessie, and he knew that it never turned into anything more. He stayed on the edges of Rick’s life, trying to keep a little bit of distance so he didn’t die from pining after his lost love.

When they did end up going on a run together, it felt like old times. Not like nothing romantic had ever happened, but that comfort he felt whenever he was with Rick. He missed his best friend, and he was starting to be okay with that being all they were.

That’s when they met Jesus. Daryl was annoyed with him immediately, but he fought back this nagging feeling of attraction. He didn’t trust the guy, and he certainly didn’t want him around his home. But little by little, Jesus started to grow on him. Before Daryl knew it, they were working together a lot more, and they worked together well. He hadn’t felt this way ever; his feelings for Rick were completely different. Jesus was not only charismatic and caring, but he was out and proud. Daryl had had one sexual relationship with a man who was openly gay, before everything went to shit, but it was still before Daryl had come out. He pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about what another heartbreak would do to him at this point.

The Hilltop was bustling with activity. Everyone was doing some sort of work; laundry or farming or building something. Daryl was making new arrows on the Barrington House porch, and Rick was beside him lacing his boots and waiting for Maggie to come by. She and Rick had some sort of business to discuss between the two communities.

“First nice day we’ve had in a while,” Rick said, pushing his curls out of his face. “You goin’ hunting before the party tonight?”

“Yeah, gonna try and bring back something big.” Daryl nodded. “I don’t know what you mean, though. ‘S fuckin’ hot.”

Rick laughed. “Maybe if you didn’t wear a leather vest everywhere.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to his arrows. He eventually felt Rick nudge him, and when he looked up he saw Jesus and Maggie down the street walking towards them.

“Y’know, I think he likes you.” Rick said.

Daryl looked at him and scoffed. Rick was trying to wingman for him now, great.

Daryl looked back in Jesus’ direction. He did actually have a little bit of a crush on the guy; he was a good goddamn fighter, but still a gentle, caring person. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey,” Jesus greeted them as they walked onto the sidewalk.

“Rick, you ready?” Maggie asked.

Rick stood up and patted Daryl on the shoulder. “Ready. Hey, Jesus, you busy today?”

Jesus shrugged. “No, not really. Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, the smile undeniable in his voice. Daryl knew exactly what was about to happen, fuck. “Daryl’s goin’ huntin’ today. Trying to have enough food for the party tonight and then some, couldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands.”

Jesus smiled. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Rick nodded and walked off the porch and off with Maggie.

“Bye, Daryl!” Maggie threw Daryl a smirk over her shoulder. This was a goddamn conspiracy, Daryl knew it.

“So, when were you planning on heading out?” Jesus asked.

Daryl cleared his throat and pushed his hair out of his face. “Probably twenty minutes? Gotta finish these arrows and then I’m ready.”

“Cool, I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

Jesus walked toward his trailer and Daryl watched after him the whole way. Jesus definitely liked him as a friend at least, they had started staying closer to each other during missions, often opting to work together. They made a good team, and Rick definitely noticed, putting them together on jobs a lot more recently.

It had been a good hunt, Daryl and Jesus hauled back a deer and a few squirrels. When they were done there was about an hour before the party started. They started walking toward Barrington House so Daryl could get changed and Jesus and Maggie could catch up on the day.

“Y’know, I’m kind of excited for tonight.” Jesus said optimistically. “I never used to be the party type, but this feels more...I don’t know, comfortable, I guess.”

Daryl nodded. “Parties are different when they’re with family.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a total party animal.” Jesus nudged him and Daryl smirked back at him.

They walked into the house and said hi to Rick in the foyer.

Jesus started heading up the stairs and turned to Daryl. “I’ll find you at the party later.”

“See you then.” Daryl said back, and watched Jesus disappear into Maggie’s office.

“Hey, you’re gonna get drool on the floor if you don’t stop now,” Rick teased. Daryl snapped out of it and turned toward him.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Daryl huffed.

“Yeah, you do.” Rick smiled. “I know that look on you, Daryl. Remember?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Shut up, Grimes.”

The party was really, really nice. Everyone was gathered around a bonfire and there were tables of food setup all around. It was homey, and full of community. Daryl leaned against a tree and looked out over the crowd.

“Hey,” Jesus walked up to him then. He looked nice with his hair down as opposed to the bun he put it in when they were hunting. Even with the bun he looked good, which annoyed Daryl to no end. You couldn’t look that good all the time, it wasn’t fair.

“Hi,” Daryl replied. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good, it was nice to shower after today. It really is too hot for that trenchcoat.” Jesus shook his head.

Daryl shrugged. “Could just get a vest.”

Jesus smiled. “Maybe. Yours does look pretty nice.”

“I bet it’d look nice on you,” Daryl smirked. “Too bad we’ll never know.”

“Harsh,” Jesus nudged him.

They joined the party once more, until the kids started to go to bed. The adults stuck around for a while, and everyone was still drinking and eating and having fun. After drinking a good amount of whiskey, Daryl and Jesus had a slight buzz going on. They were laughing together, maybe even flirting a bit, which Daryl didn’t normally know how to do, but with Jesus it was just easy.

Jesus turned to him at one point, and it was like everyone else fell away. He saw Jesus look at his lips, then look away quickly.

“Wanna go drink some more at my place?” he asked. Daryl would’ve been nervous, but the liquid courage helped with that. He was pretty sure he knew what this meant, why Jesus wanted to be alone with him.

“Yeah, I do.”

Back at the trailer, Jesus got two cups and poured some more whiskey for them. He handed Daryl a glass and took a sip of his own. They sat on the couch, Jesus sitting against the arm so he could face Daryl.

“That was pretty fun,” Jesus said. “Felt...normal.”

“Whatever that means,” Daryl sipped his drink. “But yeah, it was nice.”

“I’m glad you’re around more,” Jesus said after a few moments. “It’s really nice getting to see you.”

Daryl blushed and drank a good amount of his whiskey and put it on the table.

“I like bein’ around.” Daryl’s voice was low and gravelly, the alcohol relaxing him. “I like bein’ around you.”

Jesus was the one to blush now, but he seemed a little more confident. They were sitting closer together now, one of them could easily lean in to close the space. Jesus did, after a second of contemplating, and his lips were as soft as Daryl had imagined. Daryl pushed back a bit more, deepening the kiss, and one of his hands instinctively went to Jesus’ hip. Jesus put his hand on the back of Daryl’s neck, holding him there. Jesus pulled away first, putting his forehead against Daryl’s as they breathed each other in.

“Thank god,” Jesus laughed under his breath. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to go well.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at Jesus. What was that supposed to mean? Did he expect the kiss to be bad?

“No! I mean—“ he put his hand on Daryl’s cheek and looked sincerely into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you liked me back. I didn’t know if you’d want me to kiss you or if it was going to freak you out.”

Daryl couldn’t fight the small grin on his face. “I’m glad you did. I didn’t know if you wanted it.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page now.” Jesus smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl felt like something was going right.

[rachaelswrites]

New Family

Arron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Word Count: 1,563

Requested By: Anonymous

wait a damn minute, i think you’re onto something with the romanian family, what if you do a oneshot about hotchner!reader getting kidnapped by them?!?!? 👀

A/N: Takes place around season 9 so reader is about 10

Hotch always knew his job put you and Jack at risk but he always made sure you were with someone he trusted. Whether it was Beth or Jessica, someone watched you two. Occasionally, you or Jack would spend the night at a friend’s house and that was the case last night. You were staying over at your friend’s Sam’s house. Hotch was a bit worried about it but let you go anyway. He would be back early the next day anyway.

In the middle of the night, you heard glass shattering and voices. Your instincts kicked in and you sat up and found the closest thing to you that could be used as a weapon. You didn’t get the chance to warn anyone before a hand was over your mouth and you were being dragged out of the house and shoved into the back of a car.

The next morning, Sam was the first to notice something was wrong. She saw the broken glass and saw that you weren’t around. She immediately went to her parents and they called the police and Hotch, Within minutes, the full force of the BAU and law enforcement arrived.

While investigating, Rossi and Spencer saw the familiarity from a previous case. Colorful, broken glass scattered on the ground. They immediately knew who they were dealing with.

“Our unsubs are a Romanian family with a ten year old. They have a ritual where the wife kidnaps the child, while the son and father kill the parents,” Rossi started the briefing, looking out to the police officers as they took notes, “Although they went off ritual this time which makes us believe that Y/n was a specific target.”

“Instead of taking her from her own home, they broke into a friend’s house and took her, leaving the parent’s and the other child alive,” Spencer said, “Most likely, they knew about Y/n’s connection to the last time we investigated their family.”

Hotch wasn’t allowed to be a part of the investigation, for good reasons. Out of all the unsubs that could come back and get revenge on his family, he wasn’t expecting these ones. The team thought they were in the south, sticking to Alabama like the others. Going to DC to kidnap his child was personal. His biggest fear was that instead of keeping to the pattern of keeping the girls alive, they would kill you, for the ultimate payback. He put away two of their family members almost five years before. To them, family was more important than anything.

JJ snapped Hotch out of his thoughts, knocking on the doorway to get his attention, “We’re having Garcia check shopliftings that have been reported in the area. Hopefully we can narrow down a location,” she could tell that he was clearly not paying attention. It wasn’t because he didn’t care. He just wanted his daughter back.

“Alright. I’ll call Jessica and see if she can take Jack. I don’t want him to get worried about her,” Hotch pulled out his phone to dial Jessica’s number.

“I’ll let you know the moment we get something. You should go home and try to get some sleep,” she said.

“I think we both know that’s not going to happen until I get her back.”

JJ nodded and smiled sadly. She left Hotch alone in the room to call Jessica.

~~~~~

When you were pulled out of the car by a grown man, you tried to scream, knowing that’s what your dad told you to do but the man shoved his hand over your mouth, “Shut up or I’ll kill you,” he snarled. He dragged you through the wooded area by your hair. You could hear two other footsteps behind you. One heavier than the other. When you tried to look behind you, the man yanked your hair to keep your head forward. It was too dark for you to make out any facial features.

After several more minutes of walking, you reached a trailer. The man unlocked the door and handed you off to a woman. There was a boy about your age standing next to her. He looked at you, as if making sure you were the right one. The woman was gentler with you, instead of pushing and yanking, she carefully led you into the trailer. She made you sit on the couch and tied your feet to the leg of the table in front of you.

“So you don’t try and leave,” she whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

The boy continued to stare at you. He seemed nervous until the man, who you now assumed was his father, nudged him, “Ask her. Don’t be shy.”

The boy pulled out a small deck of cards and held them in front of the two of you, “Want to play?”

You shook your head, “I want to go home. Let me go.”

The man growled under his breath, “You don’t get to say no,” he grabbed the cards from his son and put them on the table. The boy sat across from you and shuffled the cards nervously. The parents left the room and left you two alone.

Several hours later, the parents had come back into the room.

“We’re going now. Hurry up,” the dad said. He gently grabbed the boy by the shoulder and the mother did the same to you. They walked back to the car and you were shoved into the familiar trunk again.

~~~~~

“There was a witness,” Kate said, entering the roundtable room, “A neighbor saw this car outside the house around the time of the abduction. Garcia is checking everywhere,” she tossed the file onto the table so the rest of the team could look.

“Garcia-” Rossi started but was already interrupted.

“Already on it sir. That car was spotted about a half an hour ago at the capital mall,” she said, “Should we tell Hotch?”

“You guys go. I’ll go get him,” JJ said. The rest of the team agreed and left the room. JJ grabbed her things and drove over to Hotch’s apartment.

Hotch had spent the majority of the day either pacing back and forth near the phone or sitting on your bed. While in your room, he looked at all the photographs you had taped to your wall. You refused to put them in frames, saying your room would look too cluttered. He knew better than to argue with you.

Hotch pulled one of the pictures down. It was of you, the first time you met Jack with him and Haley smiling in the background. He set that photo back on your bedside table and looked at some of the others. There was one of you and him from a year ago at the science fair. Spencer had helped you with your experiment and Garcia had helped you decorate the posters. Another photo showed you and Jack after one of his soccer games.

Hotch heard the knock on the front door and left your room, opening the door and seeing JJ, “Did you find her?” he immediately asked.

“Someone saw a car outside the house around the time of the abduction and it was spotted at the mall. The team is heading there now,” she said.

“I should go. In case she’s there she’ll want me.”

“Hotch you know you can’t. You can go to the BAU and they can bring her there.”

Hotch knew he shouldn’t try and fight. He was lucky enough to be given this information, let alone be able to go back to the BAU. He grabbed his things and followed JJ back to the office.

~~~~~

The ride from the trailer to wherever you were now was long. You could feel your muscles starting cramp when the trunk suddenly opened. The bright light of the sun made you squint, but you could still make out the face of Derek.

“You’re okay Y/n. You’re safe now,” he gently grabbed you from the trunk and pulled you into a tight hug.

You started crying, knowing that you were now safe and you could see your dad and your brother soon. You peaked over the top of Derek’s shoulder and saw the three family members being led away and into cop cars. You looked up at Derek with tears in your eyes, “Can I see my dad now?”

“Yeah. Let’s get you to him.”

He let go of you but picked you back up when you almost fell. Your legs weren’t able to support you, being curled up in that trunk for what you later found out was close to two hours.

Despite Hotch’s protests, he had to wait until the paramedics cleared you before he could see you. He continued his pacing in the bullpen, until he heard the elevator ding and the doors to the office open.

He looked up and saw you running right to him. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly, “I was so worried about you Y/n. I’m so glad you’re okay though.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I missed you dad. And Jack. Can I go home now?”

The rest of the team had gathered to watch you and your dad reunite. Hotch nodded his head, knowing all you probably wanted to do was be with him and sleep, “We can go home now.”

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @prentisswrites @laura-naruto-fan1998 @multifamdomfan12 @aquariuslavenderhoney @rafehogwarts @vxidsti1es

[doesntgetdrunk]

Who do you think is more of a self destructive asshole? Bojack or Rick Sanchez? I feel both characters have a lot of different similarities with each other in terms of dealing with addictions like alcohol or drugs, also self loathing but I think the difference in characters, is that Rick is aware he's asshole and at times doesn't mind being a dick cause he covers it as intelligence or him being like a God in a way were bojack doesn't always owns up to his shitness behavior if that makes sense.

This was pretty hard to answer. They’re both extreme assholes in their own ways. They both go into denial and they both commit sins that have enormous effects, both known and unknown to them. They have both been the cause of death and destruction. 

Bojack is so focused on himself that he doesn’t realize what it is that he is doing to those around him. In season one they make a joke about it, but he is so upset that he takes a homeless man on a bender with him and ends up watching him die. He is completely dependent on those around him. We see him take Todd and ruin his project so that he can stay with him and not move on with his life. He can’t handle Princess Carolyn breaking up with him. He begs Diane for validation that she simply cannot give him. 

However, that is all in season one. The one thing that Bojack has going for him is that he eventually does try to grow. The second interview in Xerox of a Xerox took everything away from him. He had tried turning his life around before, but I think losing everything was both his biggest fear and the one thing that he desperately needed in order to fully start a new life. He needed to face the consequences of Sarah Lynn’s death and what he almost did with Penny. He needed to hear how he took advantage of Princess Carolyn all those years and how he used the other women in his life. He needed to see that he has a pattern. 

Bojack uses people to achieve whatever it is that he needs. He kept Princess Carolyn around because she inflated his ego and took advantage of her at every turn and indirectly held her back from getting the family she dreamed of having. Sarah Lynn was his escape when he needed it and pushed her to the point of death. Todd was his friend when he felt completely alone and he held him back from accomplishing his dream. Diane was his voice of reason that truly understood him and he would bring out the worst in her and push her into binge drink with him. He dragged all of these people down with him but after a while he saw what he was doing. 

That’s the difference though, Rick doesn’t seem to ever truly face consequences and doesn’t completely learn. Rick goes from universe to universe. He has no real concept of consequence. If someone dies, he simply moves on to another universe where they’re alive. That is the most nihilistic view anyone could ever have on the world around them. Rick literally has no idea what’s happening with his real Beth and his real grandchildren. 

Rick and Morty abandoned their universe when Morty’s love potion turned everyone into Cronenberg type creatures like it was nothing. They buried versions of themselves and he was unphased. Rick Sanchez left his daughter and granddaughter in that world without a second thought and kept Morty with him because every Rick needs their Morty to stay hidden. 

Rick made a clone of Beth and made sure that he had no idea which was which so that he didn’t have to live with his decision. He wanted to see both outcomes but didn’t want to completely let her go so he did what he thought best - replace her. Then to ensure that they wouldn’t find out about each other, he planted bombs in each of their necks that would explode if they came into contact so he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences. 

To Rick, no one matters because everyone and everything is infinitely replaceable. The family that we see him with in the pilot isn’t even his original family. They show that he has memories with baby Morty, and yet Beth would talk about how Rick left her and Diane when she was little and just returned. Something happened to his original family and he jumped in wherever he could. He’s abandoned multiple versions of his family. He’s ruined multiple versions of his family and we never once see him try to go back and fix one of them or apologize, he just keeps jumping from one to the other. 

We see these moments of him where he feels lonely and isolated, but just because he feels bad doesn’t mean that he’s a better person. All it means is that he’s aware of what it is that he’s done. 

That’s why I think Rick Sanchez is the bigger self destructive asshole. I’m not saying that Bojack is all that much better or that he wouldn’t do the same thing if capable, but simply that Rick has grown much more jaded and numb to his actions.

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 62)

Plans

Sorry for the delay but better late than never! This is a pretty long chapter so hopefully that makes up for it. Warning for use and mention of alcohol abuse. 

Tagging @emily-strange and @actuallyhansolo ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

The night it all fell to shit was a weird one. It was like we were hanging in some kind of dysfunctional family limbo. Dutch left the tent where Micah was still fighting to stay alive against all the odds, and he glared at our little group of black sheep from across the camp. We'd grown in numbers, though, even if we weren't all sitting together in a posse, people were with us in spirit. Kieran and Mary-Beth had come over to see how Arthur was doing, and to make it very clear that they were firmly with us; they didn't trust Micah, never had and never would. They couldn't comprehend how Dutch was acting the way he was. 

Lenny showed his support not through words, but by silently stopping by and patting Arthur on the shoulder, nodding at him once. Karen was blind drunk but she yelled at Dutch's closed tent, chanting the words 'snake' and 'die' before Bill dragged her away and deposited her on her bed roll. In fact, Bill and Javier looked like they were the only ones who had outright sided with Dutch, and I wasn't sure if they actually believed that Arthur and the rest of us were traitors, or if they were just siding with him out of blind loyalty. Javier kept looking over at us, something like regret and confusion in his eyes but whatever he was feeling obviously wasn't strong enough to have him leave Dutch's side. Bill, though… Bill was just full of contempt and whatever he believed, it certainly wasn't any conclusion he'd drawn himself. 

Everyone else was just tiptoeing around, not seeming to firmly align themselves with anyone. These were the people who openly sympathised with Arthur and made it clear they didn't believe that any of us were the rat, but also joined Dutch at the table outside his tent where he was smoking a cigar – looking dark and pensive, miles away and stewing within a thick black cloud – to offer him similar words of comfort. The likes of Reverend Swanson, Pearson and Tilly. Even Miss Grimshaw, who seemed a little conflicted about the time she poured into nursing Micah, she didn't condemn either side. She just marched around with a perpetual sad frown, reeling at the way the family she'd tried so hard to keep moving crumbled around her. 

I felt terrible. But it could all have been avoided if Dutch hadn't been so twisted by Micah. If he'd just listened to the people that mattered the most, his 'sons'. But it seemed he'd picked his side. Though I did wonder what would happen if… or when Micah succumbed to his injury. 

"I think we should go," Arthur murmured to me quietly, as he pushed his stew around his plate. It was odd eating dinner at such a time, but there was still plenty of stew left in Pearson's pot and nobody wanted to let his hard work go to waste. Limbo. A weird feeling of normality caked in tension. Like when a marriage is breaking down but both parties are still trying to plod along, going through the motions. 

I looked up at him immediately from where I sat on the bed next to him. "Now?"

Arthur met my eyes. "Well, there's nothing left here," he said. I pondered his words. It was funny. For weeks and weeks I'd longed to hear him say that, to get a concrete agreement that we were to leave and get away together. But now that it was served to me on a platter, I felt so odd.

"You don't want to see if Micah pulls through?" I questioned. 

"I… I'm with Charles. I don't think he'll pull through," he breathed, looking back down at the plate.

"No, but," I began, not knowing where I was going. 

"You don't want to leave?" His question wasn't judgemental or annoyed. 

"Yes, I do. This just feels so surreal. So sudden. It almost feels like it'd be wrong to just pack up and leave after this has happened, like we should stay and try and sort it out somehow. Though I don't know how…"

"I know what you mean. But I'm worried about you, Micah pulled a gun on you. And I don't know what's in any of these fools' heads, there's no telling if someone's gonna try and do the same thing. And I don't know if I want to stick around and save anything that almost took you away from me, or condoned it."

I paused for a while, then finally nodded.

"Just eat up," he whispered, nodding back at me with a brooding look in his eye. "We'll start packing–"

His head jerked as something caught his eye. I followed his gaze and spotted Dutch getting up. My heart thumped painfully when for a moment I thought he was going to come over, but instead made a beeline for the horses, not looking anywhere but ahead. Without saying a word to anyone, he climbed up onto his Arabian and left. Just left. Everyone stared off in surprise, not really knowing what to say about it.

"Where's he going?" I breathed.

"I have no idea," he mused. 

"Should… should we go after him, try and talk?" I asked, meeting Arthur's eyes. He looked into mine for a while and I could see him thinking, coming to some sort of silent conclusion that made his expression sour before shaking his head sharply. 

"I don't think I wanna talk," he told me bluntly and I couldn't help but be shocked. 

"You don't even want to try? Not that I think you have an obligation to," I said softly and Arthur shrugged his shoulders with an attitude I'd never seen in him before then.

"I'm done. And I mean it. I had plenty of doubts about him before this, and now I just can't see a way of fixing things. He took Micah's word over mine. He treated you like the root cause of all our problems and he couldn't care less that Micah almost shot you," he ranted, getting progressively more pissed off. 

I looked away and thought very hard about what to say next. I was sorely tempted to say fuck it, and agree to run away with him right then and there. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not leaving the likes of Mary-Beth, Lenny, Abigail and Jack all here to suffer the consequences of whatever Dutch planned. Some people had made their mind up, but others… It was clear to me that they saw security in Dutch that they didn't have elsewhere. They were stuck.

"What if we ask around, and leave as a group with whoever wants to come?" I suggested. It wasn't the first time I'd said something like it, but this time felt different, like it was actually reasonable. That it actually might work. 

"And then what?" He asked me. 

"We'd take our things and go, find somewhere else to camp for a while, and then figure things out when we're not sitting in a camp full of people who might just want us dead," I said bluntly. His lips parted, his eyes bored into mine. The stare he gave was intense, and made me feel as though this was a turning point, a moment with huge gravitas and consequence. 

"I think… I think that'd be our best option," he quietly agreed. "But what will we do about money, Dutch has–" he stopped, remembering something, eyes casting across the camp, settling on the Marstons’ tent. "Hold on a second." 

Arthur got up, depositing his plate on the table by his bed before crossing over towards the tent. He called out for Abigail and John, and was ushered inside. I sat and waited, frowning to myself just slightly, pondering his sudden actions. 

Javier strolled past my eyeline, between Arthur's tent and the Marstons’. Without giving it much thought, I called to him. He paused, casting his gaze to me almost in surprise. He stood there for a few seconds, cigarette hanging from between his fingers, a dusting of ash floating down as the stub burnt away with his inaction. He looked at me expectantly, though he moved no closer. 

"Javier," I sighed sadly, shaking my head, "surely you don't trust a word Micah says. How could you? You know exactly what he's like–-"

"I don't," he told me bluntly. "I think he's full of crap," he shrugged his shoulders.

"So why are you acting like Arthur and John and the rest of us are the villains?"

"I… I don't… think that," he stammered, losing some of his conviction, speaking very hesitantly. "This situation, muñequita… this is messed up. But all I know is that you guys aren't being loyal to Dutch. And that matters to me."

"Why Dutch? Why should we be blind-loyal to Dutch when he doesn't care about us?" I frowned deeply, aggravated by his expectancy. 

"He cares. Dutch always cares."

"He's pouring all our resources into saving a man who was about to shoot me in the face. He doesn't give a rat's ass about me, or Arthur. Because if I was killed in this camp, you know it would destroy him, the guilt he would feel–" I shook my head abruptly. "Dutch has never liked me. And that's fine, I don't care, but Arthur and I– we love each other. We're in this for the long haul. But Dutch doesn't want to see Arthur happy."

"He doesn't wanna lose Arthur to you. And that's exactly what's happened; Arthur wants to leave this gang to be with you, and you think Dutch should be perfectly happy about that?"

"If he saw Arthur as a son rather than a well trained gun, an asset to his criminal gang, then yes. He should be perfectly happy about him wanting to get out of this dangerous world and settle down," I answered bluntly, shrugging my shoulders and looking at him like I couldn't for a moment understand why he didn't see it.

"Criminal gang? That's the way you see us all?" He cocked his brow, finally taking a number of steps towards me. 

"Not at the start. At the start you were all so hopeful and free. Now you're a bunch of penned in animals, lashing out and doing anything and everything to survive with no thought to anyone but yourselves. And this ain't an insult, though you'll surely take it as such. This is what Dutch's decision-making has done," I answered, keeping my eyes on his and not backing down. Javier was good. I knew he was. He was just being led into the fire by a smooth-talking egoist. 

Javier was quiet for some time, twitching a little, his jaw clenched tight. He did not want to listen. 

"Dutch saved me. He gave me hope when I had nothing, put food in my belly, shelter over my head, safety. Without him, I would not be the man I am today. I may not even be alive," he shrugged cluelessly, "and you want me to abandon him?"

"I don't want you to do anything," I sighed, finally breaking eye contact. "This is your decision to make."

"Listen, I–" he began, voice softening. "I always liked you. When Micah told us today about you and the Pinkertons, sure, I had my doubts about you. Now, I… I don't believe you're working against us. You have no motive, especially since you and Arthur…" he trailed off, sighing. 

I looked up at him again, waiting for him to make his point, though he took his time.

"But I cannot betray Dutch. I can't leave him, not now, not when he is the reason we're all still alive."

I almost told him that he was also the reason why we had to run so fast, always pushing his luck, killing Cornwall, Bronte, robbing banks in huge cities, inserting himself into a fight that wasn't ours with Eagle Flies and making things worse for them. Pissing people off left and right and acting as the ringmaster for the world's deadliest circus. 

“Where did Dutch go, anyway?” I asked, instead.

“Said he needed to clear his head. He’s really hurt, you know,” he told me and I was so close to rolling my eyes.

"He had his chance to listen to us but–” I began, then trailed off, “what's the use? I can't change your mind, Javier. I just hope things turn out right for you," I sighed. 

His lips parted, but he didn't know what to say. Eventually, he dropped his wasted cigarette and then carried on walking.

Arthur came out of the Marstons’ tent just a moment later, an edgy, agitated but somehow hopeful look about him. He came to me, immediately beginning to gather his things from around the tent, putting them away in his chest. I watched him with a confused frown, lips hanging open, about to ask him what was happening when he told me anyway. 

"We're going. Us, with those three," he told me very quietly, but in a rushed, urgent tone of voice. 

"Now?" I got up abruptly. 

"Yes. We gotta move while… while Dutch's gone. It'll be easier," he told me, "maybe some folk'll come with us. Would you do me a favour, princess?"

"Of course, anything," I blinked at him, stunned. 

"While I'm packing up, you go out there and you… you talk to anyone who's on our side, okay? You see if they want out. And you tell 'em to pack up."

"Wait, how is this gonna work?" 

"Abigail–" he began, realising he was at full volume before dialling it down, "Abigail knows where all our money is. She's got a key, she stole it while everyone was distracted, when Micah was telling his pack of lies about you. She felt like things was gonna blow up, and she was right. We got a key to all the money, every penny we been putting away for safekeeping," he rose up and closed the space between us. He cupped my face, his eyes were bright and alive, truly, for the first time I'd seen in a while. 

"So, what, are we gonna take it?" I balked in a hiss of a whisper. 

"No, not… not all of it. But we'll take our share," he told me, then pressed his lips to mine briefly, but firmly, "we deserve some of that money, it's ours. It's ours, John's, Charles'..." He trailed off, he sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than me.

"Damn right we deserve it," I encouraged, nodding my head, "hell, I bet you put most of it in there."

"We're just gonna take enough for us, just what's fair. We ain't gonna screw the rest of 'em over. We… we…" he stammered, his eyes dropping to my mouth. I could see the light dim from his eyes and I could feel the guilt he was experiencing like it was seeping from his pores.

"Arthur, it's okay. What we're doing is okay," I whispered to him, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tight, "Dutch ain't left us many options. It's clear his mind's made up and he don't deserve a moment more of your time. Taking a little money from the communal pot… that's the least you deserve. All them years; he's lucky this is all you're doing."

"What if he comes after us?"

"Then I'll kill the bastard myself," I said through clenched teeth. "He ain't ruining another moment. This is a good thing, baby, this is… this is the moment. The right time, what we've been waiting for."

"You're right," he breathed, turning his head towards my hair and inhaling my scent. 

"Come on. Keep packing, I'll go speak to the others," I said. 

"Abigail's gonna sneak in and get the money. She knows where it is, it's in that cave," he told me so quietly that even I struggled to hear. I pulled away from his embrace and nodded. I kissed him once more, then exited the tent. 

I scanned the whole camp, my eyes landing on Charles where he was on guard duty. It seemed so strange, again, that the menial jobs people did day to day were still being carried out. I guessed that people were just trying to cling on to normality. I sped over to him first, catching his attention when I was a few places away, he turned to look at me and grew tense at the urgency in my gait. 

"Charles," I breathed, reaching him and touching his arm, glancing around once before continuing, "Arthur and I; we're getting out of here. The Marston's too. I ain't asking you to pick a side, I will never judge you for your decision, but–"

"Of course I'll come. You needn't ask," he told me in his no nonsense tone, tilting his head up slightly in a small display of pride and loyalty. A smile broke across my face. 

"Well then," I breathed with a laugh, "I suggest you gather your things. We ain't lingering."

"Of course," he nodded.

"And will you tell Sadie? Give her the same option to get out of here? Anyone who you think might wanna come," I requested and he nodded again.

"So this is really happening? We're splitting the gang?" 

"What gang?" I grunted, turning and looking at the tattered ashes of what was left. Charles said nothing, but I knew that he saw it too. He patted my shoulder twice, and then headed off. 

Of the gang members left, there were few I wanted to ask. Some were far too loyal to Dutch; obviously the likes of Javier and Bill, others I just weren't close to. I never spoke to Strauss or Reverend Swanson; even Uncle, I didn't know any of them well enough to entertain the idea of asking. I figured Arthur would ask those sorts of people if he felt it was the right thing to do. It interested me to see that some people were already packing, though I knew they hadn't been asked yet. I assumed it was a case of fleeing the sinking ship. Pearson was one of those people, Trelawny – a man who seemed to come and go like the rain – was another. Mary-Beth was too, though she was doing it kind of slowly and subtly as if she didn't want people to notice that was what she was doing. Kieran helped her. 

I made my way over to the girls' wagon, where Karen slept, Tilly woefully held her head in her hands, and Mary-Beth quietly folded away clothes and trinkets into a case around the side.

"Ladies, may I… could I speak with you?" I asked, watching as Karen groggily lifted her head, and Tilly looked up. Mary-Beth hummed her acknowledgement but didn't stop what she was doing. 

"Arthur and I think it's best we move along, given the circumstances," I began softly, timidly. Tilly gave a humourless laugh. 

"You think?" She queried. It wasn't mean-spirited. It was just tired and sad and disappointed. She was taking it hard. 

"And we figured we'd ask folk if they wanna come too. The Marstons think it's a good idea too. I don't want this to seem like I'm asking y'all to pick a side, but I want to give you an option for if… if you don't wanna stay here no more. You ain't stuck," I continued, meeting Mary-Beth's eyes. Her lips parted and she was stunned, hesitant.

Karen grunted and slumped back down on her bedroll, ignoring the suggestion for the most part. I looked at Tilly. She stared off distantly, her mouth slightly pursed. I waited for her to say something, half expecting some anger or upset similar to that of Javier's, I thought she was just as loyal to Dutch as he was.

"I'm not going with you. But I ain't sticking around here neither," she told me, striking me full of surprise. "Things just went too far today, people pointing guns at each other, accusing everyone of everything, this ain't no place for nobody. Listen, I'm glad you have a way out of here. And I'm glad that that little boy does too," she pushed herself to her feet and pointed in the direction of the Marstons' tent. "But I… I don't think I want any part of this no more."

I nodded slowly. "I understand. Tilly, all I want is for people to do the right thing for themselves. And I want them to be safe. If you think leaving all of this behind is the right thing for you, then I'm fully behind you. You've been kind to me, just like everybody else. I appreciate the time I've known you," I told her carefully. She fidgeted a little on her feet, but nodded. 

"Thank you, I– I wish nothin' but the best for you and Arthur," she told me, then with a final nod she disappeared around the wagon. I presumed she was gathering her things. 

"I knew it," Karen slurred, her cheek pressed into the ground. "I knew she was outta here. Jus' like you, and jus' like Mary-Beth," she added. I couldn't help but frown a little, and Mary-Beth met my eyes, but Karen chuckled drunkenly. "I don't blame a single one of you. Get out before this thing kills you." 

"What'll you do, Karen?" I asked, sitting down beside her. She lifted herself up, propped up on her elbows. 

"Me? Don't worry 'bout me. I got places I can go," she told me, a dizzy smile on her face. She didn't seem to be bogged down by the gravity of the situation. The booze was to thank for that, of course. 

"Like where?"

"I don' know. Places. I'll be fine." 

"I'm worried about you," I admitted, remembering how my mother got when she drank too much. The scene before me looked too familiar for comfort.

"Y'all keep saying that. Stop it. Let me live my life," she muttered. I knew from experience there was no reasoning with a person in this state. No way to make them realise their self destruction. 

"You're welcome to come with us, Karen, if you wanna get out of here," I assured her, patting her shoulder.

"I'm with Tilly," she muttered, "this whole thing's a mess and you can run off as a group but you'll fall apart too. Ain't nothing you can do. Nothin' ever lasts," she cried out bitterly, her face screwed up in a wince that was full of anger and pain and I thought of Sean. I thought of the fact that she was clearly close to him and I thought of how things began to fall apart along with his death. I was choked up. I cleared my throat and brushed a loose ringlet from Karen's face and she peered up at me like she didn't know how to respond. 

"I'm so sorry, Karen," I whispered. 

"For what, what'chu done?" She asked. I simply shook my head. 

"I'm sorry that things have fallen apart," I added.

"Can't be helped," she sighed, reaching up and squeezing my hand. I was never particularly close to Karen, so the act warmed my heart. 

"Um, may I speak with you?" Mary-Beth squeaked like a mouse above us, gingerly edging towards me and looking at me with concerned, arched brows. 

"Of course," I nodded, then rose to my feet after giving Karen's hand a squeeze back. I followed Mary-Beth away from listening ears until she turned around and stood before me, fiddling with her fingers. 

"I'm so sorry, but I can't come with you," she blurted out, and I already began to shake my head, holding my hands out reassuringly, but she continued anyway, "you know Kieran and I? We– I promised him–"

"Mary-Beth, it's okay. I ain't asking anyone in a bid to make 'em feel like they gotta. You have your own plans. I'm glad," I smiled at her. 

"You sure? It's not that I don't trust you and Arthur and the others to keep everyone safe, it's just…" she trailed off and sighed, looking across the camp to where Kieran was. I put my hand on her shoulder.

"I know. You go and be with him. I know how you're feeling; take your chance to get away and build your life together while you still can," I told her, then opened my arms and let her decide if she wanted to hug me. She did. She closed the gap between us and squeezed me tight, rubbing my shoulders. 

I felt like I wanted to cry. Why did this feel like a goodbye? More than just a goodbye for now, but a permanent one? I swallowed back the sudden wave of emotion I felt and patted her back a couple times before we parted. She offered me a small smile and took my hands in hers. 

"I hope you build the prettiest of lives. We all deserve a little happiness, don't you think?" She told me quietly, and I nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, I think we do," I whispered. She squeezed my hands, then headed back towards the wagon to continue her packing. 

I exhaled and turned around to look at the state the camp was left in. It was full of people packing up; a scene that wasn't by any means new or different, it'd happened time and time again already. But the fact that people were packing for themselves this time… there was no sense of community, or togetherness. It felt like an ending. A dissolving of a family that once was so strong; it was heartbreaking, but somehow inevitable. Once there was differing ideas and loyalties pulled in different directions, things would change. And they changed in the most destructive of ways; with Micah laying shivering and sweating and close to death, with Dutch running off alone and abandoning the camp for the first time ever, with the majority of people deciding that it was too late to salvage anything. Deterioration until there was nothing but a scattered collection of parts left to make the best of things. 

All because of Micah Bell.

[jamielea81]

The Three Times You Met Sam Winchester

One Shot - About 4,800 words

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Minor angst, fluff, minor violence, a few curse words, implied smut (but not really)

This is my first Supernatural fic so please be gentle. Feedback, comments, reblogs are always appreciated. This is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my own. 

Thanks to @the--blackdahlia for the wonderful aesthetic!

The first time you met Sam Winchester, you were ten years old. Of course, you didn’t know his last name, you rarely knew any of your friend’s last names. He was just Sam.

It was summertime and you and a couple of friends were hanging outside a gas station a couple of blocks from your house. An older kid had showed a few other kids how to steal quarters out of a soda machine that was outside the gas station. It seemed simple, so you were giving it a shot. After you and two friends each chewed a piece of bubble gum, you all placed your chewed pieces on the end of a stick and stuck the stick in the open slot of the machine. You could visibly see quarters down there and sure enough when you pulled the stick back out, there were 4 quarters stuck to it. Quickly pulling the quarters off and sticking them in your pocket, you handed the stick to your friend Randy and took your turn as lookout.

“What are you guys doing?” A boy about your age asked, scaring the crap out of you in the process.

Throwing your hand over your heart, you took a deep breath calming yourself down. “You scared me, sneak up on people much?”

“Sorry.” He looked down and started to walk away.

“Wait!” He paused and turned back to you. “What’s your name?”

“Sam. What’s yours?”

You smiled and stuck out your hand. That was just the kind of kid you were, grown up before you were actual grown. “Y/N. If you keep quiet, I’ll tell you what we are doing.”

Still keeping an eye on the gas station door as your other friend Beth had her turn, you quietly explained to Sam what you and your friends were up to. Sam was not impressed and a small part of you was heartbroken over his disapproval.

“Listen, you don’t have to do this, but please don’t tell on me.”

Sam thought it over and said he wouldn’t. “I’m just going to go find my brother and go back to our motel.” He started to walk away again, but you grabbed his arm pulling him to you.

“We’re going to go play video games at the pizzeria down the road, do you want to do that?” You asked, voice hesitant. “I’m going to go home and have lunch with my mom, but I’ll probably go over there in an hour.”

Sam smiled. “O-oh, okay. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great! See you later Sam.” He waved and walked away.

As planned, Sam was waiting outside the pizzeria when you and your friends got there. You all shuffled inside and spread out amongst the arcade machines in the back of the restaurant. Your go to was Super Mario Bros. It was a two-player game so you threw in quarters for both you and Sam. You both played and talked for hours. Sam explained he wasn’t from here and that his dad traveled for work. He didn’t know how long him and his older brother Dean would be in town, but he thought for at least a week. 

When you were all out of quarters, Sam walked you home. “Wanna hangout tomorrow?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’ll have to ask my brother, but I’m sure I can.”

“Just come over when you’re done with breakfast and we’ll find something to do.”

“Okay. Bye Y/N.”

“Bye Sam.”

You never did see Sam the next day or the day after that. He ended up just being one of those kids you thought about every once in awhile as you grew up.  

The second time you met Sam Winchester you were 20 years old. 

During your sophomore year of high school, a friend of yours had told you her plan to travel through Europe for six months. You desperately wanted to join her, so you got a job and worked nights and weekends, saving every penny you could. By the time you graduated, you had enough to travel for a year, so you took a year off. To say your mom was upset was an understatement. You promised her you would go to school when you had the traveling out of your system and you did. Unfortunately, the school you chose was far away from home. You enrolled in classes at Mission College in California to get away from the kids you grew up with and to get away from the cold winters of Missouri. You decided on a two-year college to get the generals out of the way and for you to decide what you wanted to be “when you grew up.”

It was the start of your second year at Mission, not being old enough to drink in bars, house parties were pretty much your entertainment on weekends. It was Friday night and your roommate Hannah was dragging you to a party near Stanford. There were parties near your school, but the parties thrown around the Stanford campus were a bit bigger and a bit crazier. Hannah was feeling crazy.

Dressing in jeans and a purple V-neck t-shirt, you slipped on a pair of flats, grabbed your keys and cellphone and waited for your taxi cab with Hannah.It was only after 9 by the time you reached the party but it was in full swing. Several people were on the front lawn, plastic cups and beer bottles in hand. You and Hannah squeezed yourselves through the front entrance of the house. The music was loud and you were struggling to hear your roommate. You were pretty sure she said she was going to find the bathroom. Already. Really Hannah? 

You walked to the kitchen, barley managing to avoid bumping into anyone. A keg was in the middle of the room with a couple of guys standing around it filling cups as people approached.

“Hey.” Offering your best flirty smile. “Could I get one of those?” You said point to the cup in his hand.

“Of course.” He got to work filling a cup and then passing it to you. It was mostly foam, but hey, he tried. “What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

“Y/N. I go to Mission.” You smiled taking a sip from the cup.

“You should come by more often. We usually have a party here most weekends. I’m Ryan by the way.”

“Maybe I will. I’m going to look for my roommate, but I’ll be back over.” He gave you a smile and you returned it. He was a good looking guy, but you just weren’t looking to hook up tonight.

Walking back into the living room you tried looking for Hannah, but frankly there were too many people. If she was standing right in front of you, you probably still wouldn’t spot her.

Finishing your beer, you left the empty cup on the first clear counter you found and headed out the back door grabbing a bottle of beer from a large tub filled with ice on the deck. There were several wooden benches on the deck and a few chairs. You took a seat on one of the empty benches and enjoyed the still warm fall air. There were several groups of people on the deck, all in their own little world. There was a group of three guys closest to you that you couldn’t help ease dropping on. They were talking about classes, but it wasn’t the conversation that caught you, it was the gorgeous, tall brunette with shaggy hair. He looked slightly familiar, but you didn’t know him. You went to a bunch of parties last year, so you were most likely remembering him. It wasn’t until another guy walked up to their group and called Mr. good looking Sam, that your interest was completely piqued. This can’t be the Sam I’ve thought about since I was a kid. You didn’t even know where that Sam was from, only that his family traveled a lot. You could really use Hannah right now. She was definitely not shy and would be more than happy to approach the group of guys with you.

You hung back and tried not to stare. You really hoped he wouldn’t leave before you decided what to do. Finishing your beer, you got up and grabbed another one from the tub. After a few minutes, two of the guys in his group left, leaving him and another guy. They both ended up walking to the far side of the deck taking a seat on a couple of chairs. You took a couple more pulls from your beer and decided to throw caution to the wind and say hello. Even if it wasn’t The Sam, saying someone looked familiar wasn’t a crazy conversation starter.

You stood up and walked quickly to where he was sitting. He’s looking at his friend and doesn’t see you. You touch his arm. “Hey.”

They both look to you and Sam smiles. “Hi.” Eyebrows raised.

“This is going to sound weird, and I swear it’s not a pick up line.” You laugh mostly because you’re embarrassed and maybe a little tipsy. Have you ever been to Richmond Heights Missouri?” He tilts his head to the side, still smiling, but he doesn’t speak right away. “You know what? Never mind. I’m, I’m just going to go back over there.” Your pointing with your beer bottle back to your now abandoned bench. Man, you miss that bench already.

“No, wait!” You stop in your tracks and turn around. “When I was kid. I’m pretty sure I did with my family.”

Your face splits into a huge smile. “When you were like 10?”

He looks at you suspiciously. “Y-yeah.” He says, very drawn out.

“You don’t by chance remember playing Super Mario Bros. in a pizzeria?’

He laughs, deep and long. “What?!” He’s laughing again. “Y/N?”

You start nodding your head fast and furious. Holy shit it’s him!

He stands up and boy is he tall. He pulls you into a hug and you hug him back. His friend gets up from his chair and motions for you to take it. His friend, whose name you can’t seem to remember even though Sam just said it, excuses himself to let you two talk.

You both catch up on why you’re going to school in California. He’s here because he got a full ride and you’re here because after traveling you didn’t want to go back to Missouri. He’s prelaw and you tell him you aren’t sure yet. He’s so good looking it’s becoming hard for you not to get lost in his eyes and zone out on what he’s saying.

“I didn’t think I’d get to see you again. You know, you never came to my house the next day.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. When I got back to the motel my dad was already there and said we were hitting the road. I didn’t have time to come tell you.”

“It’s honestly OK, Sam. We only knew each other that one day. I’m surprised you even remember me!”

“How can I forget the girl who was stealing quarters.”

You laugh. “I was such a rebel back then. I’ll have you know I never stole again. I think your disapproval shamed me.”

“I’m glad I could be such an influence on your life.” Smiling so bright you can’t help but smile back.

You and Sam talked for a couple of hours. He got up at one point and grabbed a few beers. Hannah had found you eventually and gave you a thumbs up when she saw that you were with Sam.

When the party started to die out, you called for another taxi and went searching for Hannah with Sam in tow. When you tracked her down, she said she wouldn’t be coming home tonight and wiggled her eyebrows at you.

Sam walked you to the end of the driveway to wait with you for your ride. Feeling slightly brave, you leaned forwarded and captured Sam’s lips in a kiss. It took him a couple of seconds before he returned it. He pulled you against him and you threw your arms around his neck. Your hands running through his gorgeous head of hair as he kissed you feverously. One hand on your head holding you in place while his other traveled down your back settling on your butt. You let out a small moan and he stopped. He dropped his hands and took a step back.

You opened your eyes searching his to see what was wrong. “Sam?”

“I-I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He said. His eyes were cast downwards. Was that regret?

“Well, why not?” You were nervous now. Playing with your fingers. “Am I that bad of a kisser?” You hoped joking would ease the tension that you were currently feeling.

“No, Y/N, of course not. It’s just that,” he paused to lick his lips. “I have a girlfriend.” There it was. It’s always too good to be true. Your stomach dropped. Of course, he did.

“Oh. Huh. I understand. I’m sorry I kissed you.” It was your turn to drop your head down.

“No, Y/N, don’t do that. I kissed you back. I wanted to kiss you. We just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Sam. Why don’t you go back to the party? I’ll be OK.”

“Don’t say that. I want to stay. I want to make sure you get home OK.”

“I’m a big girl. It’s fine. I, I actually would like to be alone. It was great seeing you Sam. Good luck with school. I’m sure you’ll do great things.” You tried to smile, but it was a weak attempt.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll do great things. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, maybe. Bye Sam.”

He waved and slowly headed up the driveway. Turning around a few times to look at you, but you pretended not to notice.

The third time you met Sam Winchester you were 33 years old.

After you finished your two years at Mission you moved down to San Diego and got a degree in computer science. You were hired by a startup tech company right after graduation. Luckily for you, that company flourished and you did well for yourself. When you were 29, your mom got very sick. Throughout the years you visited home and sometimes your mom would come out to stay with you. But she needed you, so you packed all you could, shipped everything home and  sold all your furniture. Your boss and your boss’ boss loved you since you had been loyal to them since the start. They were allowing you to work from home which was amazing. It gave you the time to care and spend time with your mom and not be out of a job. 

Two years later, your mom passed away. The house was left to you, but you didn’t want to be there. There were too many memories. You didn’t want to go back to San Diego though either. Moving across country was a pain in the ass. The next two years you fixed up the house and tried and failed to make it your own. You figured you’d eventually sell it, so you might as well make it as nice as it could be.

You continued to work from home which was kind of lonely if you were being honest. So, you did what every other 30 something year old in your town did, you hit the bars at night and hung around friends from high school. It was something and it was nice to bound with a few of your classmates again. Most were married with families, but there were a few of you that were single. On weekends you’d put a little extra care into your appearance and head to one of the few bars in town. Tonight, was no different.

Natalie was on the other side of the bar and you had the perfect view. She was dancing with herself, but not on a dance floor. No, Natalie was a wild one and bit of a drunk. She was dancing between tables and up against the bar bumping patrons as she went, long brown curls bouncing as she went.

“Are you going to control her?” Steve, one of the bartenders you had come to know asked.

“I will, I will. At least let me finish my beer, Steve.” You teased and he gave you an unamused smile back. “You love us.”

“You do keep me in business.”

“Funny.” You tipped your beer to him signaling another. Just as you were about to stand up, you saw Natalie sit at a table with a few guys. You hadn’t seen them before, but it wasn’t a small town. You decided to stay put for now, besides, there was a very good looking guy directly across from you. Even from across the bar you could tell that he was gorgeous. Great body, sandy blonde hair, beautiful green eyes. You really hoped he lived in town. You had made eye contact with him a few times. You were playing the long game, hoping small smiles and eye contact would eventually make him come over. Unfortunately for you, every other woman in this bar was doing the same thing. Some were bolder, buying him drinks and sitting next to him. He’d flirt with them but then they’d eventually leave his side.

Movement from Natalie drew your attention away from Mr. green eyes. She was leaving the booth with the three of guys she was sitting with. You jumped from your stool and told Steve you’d be back.

“Hey, Nat! Where are you going?” Catching up to her just outside the door of the bar, she turned around bright small on her face. 

“Y/N!” She hugged you while the three guys checked you out. “These are my new friends. They are having a party and I going to go. Do you want to go?”

“No, Natalie. I think we need to stay here.” You grabbed her hand and started to walk to the door to go back inside.

“Hey, hey. Wait a minute. No need to run off. We’re nice guys.” Douche number one said. You decided to call them Douche one, two and three.

“I don’t know about that, but her and I are staying.”

Douche number two grabbed Natalie’s arm and pulled hard knocking her on her ass. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“Let her go! Someone help!” You yelled as you ran after Douche number two who was hightailing it to the far end of the parking lot. Douche number three grabbed both your arms pulling them harshly behind your back. He dragged you around the corner of the bar and slammed you against the brick wall. You weren’t in the best shape of your life but you felt so weak compared to this guy. He held both of your hands over your head against the wall. His other hand was running down your face. He had his legs pushed against your own so your attempts to knee and kick him failed.

“Such a pretty girl. You should play nice and stop being such a bitch.”

You did the only thing you could think to do; you spit in his face. He removed his hand from your face and wiped his own.

“You bitch!” He yelled. When he removed his hand from his face, you saw nothing but sharp pointy teeth. What the fuck!?

You screamed and wiggled and moved as best you could. He struck you with the back of his hand and you whimpered in pain. He started to lean toward you with that awful mouth. You were crying now, tears streaming down your face. You’ve never felt so helpless.

You heard shuffling but couldn’t see anything other than a pair of boots that stopped directly behind Douche number three. Your captor turned his head and was promptly punched in the face by Mr. green eyes. He temporarily lost his hold on you, so you moved a little to give yourself space. You then kicked him square in the stomach, sending him to the ground. Green eyes looked up at you and blinked twice. A second later, Douche number three’s head was chopped off from his body, laying on the ground with his eyes open. It was so quick; you didn’t have time to scream. Looking at Mr. green eyes, you see that he’s holding a sword. Wait, not a sword. Is that a fucking machete? Then you were screaming.

He covered your mouth with his hand. “Hey, hey sweetheart. You need to calm down. You’re safe. Bad guy is dead, he’s not going to hurt you.”

You nodded your head but the tears kept on rolling down your face. You suddenly remembered Natalie and you started freaking out all over again. “Natalie! Natalie!” You screamed as you started to run to the far end of the parking lot.

“Wait! She’s fine. She’s fine.” Mr. green eyes yelled. You started to slow down but still headed in the direction you last saw her being taken to. “Sammy’s got her. She’s fine.”

“Who the fuck is Sammy?”

“My brother. Now will you calm down? We’re the good guys here. I’ll take you to her.”

You nodded and followed him. You were shaking, but something told you to trust him. What other option did you really have at this point? There was a headless man in the parking lot. You weren’t sure how you would explain this to the cops.

Mr. green eyes lead you to an old black classic Chevy. A guy was leaning against the passenger door as you approached. It was too dark to get a good look at his face, but you hoped it wasn’t one of the other Douches. “Your friend is passed out in the back seat. It’s probably a good thing. Hopefully she won’t remember tonight.”

You let out a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You took a look through the back window and sure enough, she was out. You walked back to the front of the car where Mr. green eyes was standing. His brother pushed off the door and started to walk to join you. “Listen, I’m sorry for all the screaming back there. I don’t know how to thank you enough. But what the hell was that thing?”

“I think we need to get this mess cleaned up first, and then talk later. I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam.” He pointed to the guy standing behind you. You turned your head to say hello and your stomach dropped.

“Sam? Sam Winchester?”

Sam’s face was one of shock, mouth open, wide eyes. “Y/N?”

You nodded yes and dove in for a hug. You were far too emotional that you didn’t know what else to do with yourself. A hug seemed like a good start. He hugged you back, but you pulled away after only a couple of seconds.

“Wait, you guys know each other?”

You both nodded yes. “Yeah, but it’s a long story.”

“Well, why don’t you let Sammy help you get your friend home and I will take care of this mess?”

“Okay. Yeah, we can do that.” 

Sam carried Natalie from their car to your car. You drove while Sam sat in the passenger seat to Natalie’s place. Neither of you spoke. When you reached her house, you explained to her roommate that she drank too much and passed out. After making sure she was safe in her bed, you and Sam left. He called Dean to let him know the two of you were getting coffee and he would meet up with him later. The only place open was a 24-hour Denny’s so you settled on going there. 

“So, what were those things Sam?”

Sam took a breath. “Those were vampires.”

“Vampires.” You repeated and nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay? Just like that?”

“Well, I saw that thing’s teeth. It checks out.”

“Listen, Y/N. A lot of things from scary movies are real, vampires are just the tip of the iceberg.”

“I’ve got time. Why don’t you tell me about them?”

He nodded and began to run down the list of what else was out there. You ended up talking for hours. You talked about where you finished school, what you were doing now. You told him about your mom. He told you about his family and what they did. He told you about his girlfriend Jessica, and about leaving school. It was a lot to take in, but you felt that you had finally met the real Sam Winchester.

You exchanged telephone numbers and dropped him at the motel across town.

You started a texting relationship with him that morphed into phone calls once a week and then calls daily. You were smitten with him. After three months of texting, calling and flirting, he came to visit you. He ended up staying a week. He called it a vacation, you called it a long date. He stayed in your old room the first three nights. The fourth night he took you on a date. You went to dinner and then walked around downtown. He held your hand. When you arrived home, he kissed you good night in front of your bedroom door. It wasn’t like your first kiss together. It was soft and gentle. Barely there touches and smiles between kisses. You changed into your pajamas, crawled into bed only to crawl out of it. You walked across the hall and knocked on Sam’s door.

“Come in.”

You opened the door to see Sam lying on the bed, arms behind his head. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He sat up swinging his legs over the side. “Can’t sleep?”

You were shy all of a sudden, embarrassed even. “It’s not that. I was wondering if you wanted to come sleep in my room. With me.”

A small smile played on his lips. He nodded and stood up. He reached for your hand and you lead him to your room. You kissed and cuddled most of the night. It was nice and sweet.

The next night, you both were tangled between the sheets and each other. It was slow and gentle, and everything you had fantasized about since you started flirting over the phone.

When it came time for Sam to get home, you cried. You didn’t want him to leave. He held you for hours whispering promises and sweet words in your ear. You walked him to his car and said goodbye.

The next two months were hard. He and Dean were busy constantly saving the world. Sam still tried to call you as much as he could, but it mostly resolved into a text every few days and a call once a week.

You put the house up for sale. It was time. You decided a condo would be best, you weren’t much for gardening and shoveling wasn’t much fun either. However, you wanted to wait until the house was sold before you made an offer on a new place.

It was a random Thursday. You had finished work for the day and were outside cutting the grass. The realtor advised to keep it short, so every few days you were cutting it and praying for an offer. You heard the familiar sound of the Impala. You cut the engine of the mower and turned around to see Sam and Dean stopping in front of the house. Your grin filled your face and you started to walk to the curb. The both got out of the car, but Dean stayed put.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Dean.” You called back.

Sam met you in the middle and pulled you into a bear hug. You pulled back and kissed him deeply. “What are you doing here?”

“We were coming out this way and I had to see you.”

You kissed him again. “I’m glad you did. How long are you here for?”

“Well, that depends on you.” You gave him a questioning look. “Since the day you told me you were selling the house, I couldn’t get this idea out of my head.”

You nodded. “Go on.”

“Instead of buying another place, why don’t you move in with me, well us. You work from home anyway, you can work from home there. Move in with me.”

“What? Are you serious?”

He kissed you again. “Yes, I’m serious. I don’t want to lose another 10 years. What do you say?”

“And Dean’s OK with this?”

He turned his head and looked to Dean who was back sitting in the car. “Hey Dean, it’s OK if Y/N moves in, right?” Dean threw out a thumbs up out the window and you laughed.

“OK then.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yes, I’ll move in with you.” He picked you up and spun you around. He set you back on the ground and pulled you in for another kiss. You couldn’t wait to spend every night kissing him.

@the--blackdahlia @flamencodiva

[imaginesmai]

Roger Taylor-To let you inside my heart (1)

This is the first part of some Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor. In this one, there is no kiss or smut yet; they just meet. I hope you like it!

I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH MY PHONE. IF YOU READ THIS WITH EMOJIS INSTEAD OF LETTERS PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Plot: when you have your heart broken, you build walls so high that no one can climb them. Roger Taylor’s purpose is to show you no walls can stop a loving heart.

At nights, London was beautiful. The streets were filled with lights and people going from one side to another. In the big city, people always were in a hurry; to catch the bus, to find a place to eat or to meet some friends. But you had grown to love it. Between your studies and your half-time job, you didn’t have much time to enjoy the city lately. The degree in law you started three years ago was slowly making you a hermit, and that left your wonderful friends to take you out.

They broke (quiet literally) into your apartment that afternoon, and while Alice raided your closet, the girls said that it was time for you to see the sun again; or the moon, whatever it was needed to get you out of your cave. You decided to go to a pub where, according to your friend Mary, was playing a new band. All of you knew that she wanted to go because of a guy, who she couldn’t stop talking about.

-          And you met him when? -you asked her, as you walked towards the pub. -I have heard a lot about this boy yet I know nothing about him!

-          I met him a few weeks ago in the pub. -Mary smiled. -He said he liked my coat, and Beth told him I worked in Biba. He showed up the next day.

-          Isn’t it romantic. -you faked a faint. -Boy meets girl and chases her until he sees her again.

-          It is! -Alice said, appearing right beside you. -Come on, the guy went to the shop just to see her.

-          He probably got lost looking for it. -Beth laughed. -I wish I had a man like that.

-          First of all, that’s creepy Alice. -you said. -And second, what’s the romantic part about saying I like your coat?

-          Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that! -Mary hit you on the side. -Freddie is cute.

-          So now he has a name? Wow, I’m so impressed. -you smiled.

-          You’re, literally, the worst person Y/N. -Beth ran towards you three with her little legs. -One day you’re going to fall in love and you’re never going to hear the end of it.

You scoffed at her words. It was true that you were a little pessimistic, yet you had your reasons. When you started college, you were a studious girl. One day you met a wonderful guy; funny, handsome, kind and selfless. He was everything a girl could dream about, and that was what happened. Not only you were dreaming and dating him for nearly a year, but also two other girls. At that time, you were so in love that you tried to give him another chance; if he left those girls, he could stay with you. But he left next morning without saying anything else. Your friends were there for you, and helped you through the bad times. Again, you focused on your studies, and only on your studies. Two years later, you had nearly finished your degree in law and you were happy again. Your secret? Keeping boys out of your life. Sure, sometimes you had had a quick one night stand with some cute boy of your college or from a party. But no attachment.

-          I’m praying for that day. -Alice looked at the sky. -Oh, God, if you’re there, hear our prays! Give her a good fuck!

-          Alice! -you half screamed-laughed. -People are looking at us!

-          Let them look, Y/N. -Mary said. -This is our night, and there is nothing holding us back.

-          Well there can be a-

-          Shut up. -the three of them said at the same time, pushing you faster towards the pub.

The pub was big, famous you could say. There were a lot of people in there, from mean-looking teenagers to middle-age men, and they were all drinking and having a good time. As soon as you entered there, you enjoyed the environment; it was nice, because the music wasn’t too loud and the people weren’t too nasty. It was nearly comfortable. After feeling like a packed sardine for a few minutes, you finally found a place in the bar for all of you. Alice ordered your drinks as you looked around, trying to find Mary. She disappeared just when you entered the pub, not saying where she was going. You found her in a corner, talking to a security guard until a tall brown-haired guy came out and, after a quick hug, let her in. Did he have more teeth or was it just your imagination?

The night went well. Mary came back shortly and said that she was talking to Freddie; it seemed that they weren’t playing yet, there was another band before them. You drank and talked, having a good time and listening to the music. It wasn’t really good, you thought; something you could listen in the background and not pay attention to it. When the band finished, people started clapping and shouting like crazy; you even had to move a little towards Beth because they were getting wild. You could make out a few names, but the most screamed was this guy Roger, who must had all the girls crazy.

Smile went out and presented themselves; and you understood why so many girls were shouting. The drummer, Roger, was beautiful. Not handsome like the guy you find in a gym or cute like that guy in the coffee shop. He had deep blue eyes, the type of eyes where you could get lost for hours. It reminded you to the innocence of a baby mixed with the mischievous of a horny teenager. His hair, god bless his blond hair. Roger Taylor had his hair cut long, with a little bang that made his face even more perfect. But if there was something that completed your fantasy, it was his smile. Looking at some fans, he smiled and waved a little, showing his pearly white teeth. You got lost in his appearance until you felt a napkin at your chin.

-          Wh-what the doing? -you frowned at Beth.

-          Just making sure you weren’t drooling. -she laughed, as the band started playing. -Who is it? Brian? John? Or are you trying to steal Freddie from Mary?

-          She was looking at Roger. -Alice answered. -Well, harassing him.

-          I wasn’t doing anything!

-          Does anyone else hear the birds singing? -Beth smiled. -Or are they weeding bells?

-          We’ve lost her again, girls. -Mary laughed softly, watching you looking at Roger as he played the drums.

Smile was… amazing. It sounded right, the instruments played at the exact moment and Freddie singed like an angel. The crowd got crazy at their songs, and you understood why there was so much people in there. Mary was smiling at Freddie everytime he looked at her, and mid-way the third song Alice disappeared, probably with a guy.

You were talking to Beth the first time it happened. It was a slower song, as good as the rest, so Roger could be a little less focused on his drums. He used that time to look at the crowd; winked to a few girls, smiled to some mates and then your eyes crossed. You looked down immediately, blushing, but Roger had already saw you. And the only thing he could thought, was wow. You were not an usual in the pub, because he would have noticed you before. Your shy eyes tried stay away from his, but he kept looking at them; it was like looking into heaven, because he was sure you were an angel. Roger almost missed his first hit to the drums, but he regained the focus. And started playing this game with you, where he was trying to catch your eyes.

-          He’s looking again. -your friend whispered in your ear. -Oh God, Y/N, he’s looking this way right now.

-          Beth, he’s going to see you! -you smacked her arm, blushing like crazy.

You tried not to look at him again, but after a few seconds you looked up again. And like the last five times, you found his blue eyes looking at you. Maybe the first two times were coincidences, but then even you knew it wasn’t true. Smile finished their songs and said goodbye to the crowd. Not even a bomb could prevent your friends noticing the wink Roger sent your way.

-          Did he just-

-          I’m going to introduce you to the band. -Mary said, interrupting Alice and dragging you along. -Like, right now.

-          I should go home; I have things to do Mary. -you laughed awkwardly.

-          I can tie you Y/N, don’t tempt me. -Beth said. -He has been looking at you the whole night, you better meet him now.

The backstage wasn’t as big as the pub, just a small corridor with a lot of doors. The first band passed by your side, and when the singer touched Alice’s ass, you knew where had she been during the show. Finally, you arrived to a door. It seemed that the guys were nowhere to be seen, and Mary said that they used to go outside for a smoke. The guard let you pass because of Mary, who he recognised as Freddie’s girl. She was right, the boys of Smile were there; and just like in their show, Roger was looking at you.

-          Mary, darling! -Freddie said when you arrived to their side. -I’m so glad you could come.

-          Well, you asked me to. -she blushed. -I’m glad you did, it was amazing.

-          Thank you, but if someone is amazing tonight it’s you. -he said, and you almost puked at Mary’s loving eyes.

-          Oh, Freddie. -she giggled, and then remembered you were there too. -Oh, this are my friends. Alice, Y/N and Beth

-          It’s so nice of you to bring your friends, Mary. -Brian smiled softly.- The more people the better.

-          You say it as if we had a choice. -Alice scoffed. -She literally dragged us here.

-          Besides, we wanted to meet the Biba’s guy.

Soon, all of you started a conversation where Mary got red as a tomato and Freddie just showed himself off. The guys were funny and nice, and time passed by without really noticing it. Roger was still sneaking glances at you every now and then, and flirted with you a few times when the conversation was between the both of you. But you didn’t have time to really talk to him until you were leaving. It was getting cold and John proposed to get drinks for all of you. He entered with Brian and Alice; then, Beth and Mary and finally Freddie, who was telling you something about his country. You were going to answer when a hand gripped your arm and pushed you back, closing the door after you. There stood Roger, with a smirk on his face and his hand on the door.

-          I was thinking about kidnapping you, but it seemed a little violent. -he said, still with his hand on your arm.

-          It’s not the best impression you can give me, yeah. -you laughed. -That’s why you want to be alone with me? You’re an assassin?

-          And here I thought I was doing well. -he said. -Now I will just have to kill you Y/N, you’ve ruined everything.

-          I promise I won’t say anything about your hobby. -you smiled. -That’s why you wanted to be a dentist? To have better access to anesthesia?

-          If I say it was because of the money it could give me will you run away?

-          I’m doing a degree in law, I don’t have a say in the matter. -you said.

-          And besides studying, do you have any other hobbies? Like staring at drummer boys?

-          Don’t feel so flattered, I was looking at the assistant behind you. -you teased, feeling as his hand moved up and down your arm.

-          I’m sure about that. -he chuckled. -Is the first time I’ve seen you here. I would have remembered such a beautiful face.

-          I don’t really go out that much lately. -you shrugged. -I bet you do see a lot of beautiful girls. There were a lot, mh, interesting, yeah, interesting girls out there.

-          I prefer to call them crazy obsessed girls. -he said, smiling again.

-          Wow, I see you’re ready for fame. -you said, arching a brow.

-          That means you’ve liked our show? -Roger asked.

-          Not bad. I still prefer the first band.

-          Come on, I know you’re lying. -he laughed. -I saw the drums boy literally sleeping on the stool.

You hadn’t had such a nice time since forever. You laughed until your stomach hurt and you had tears in your eyes. Roger was not only handsome, but also funny and kind. And you two connected like no other. It was new for Roger, spending so much time talking to a girl and not taking her clothes off. Everytime some sassy remark came out of your mouth, his smiled spread and his cheeks hurt. Time flew by his side and when you realised, it must had been nearly three a.m.

-          We have been here for three hours. -you laughed. His jacket was over your shoulders, and you were sitting on the sidewalk, shoulder by shoulder while he was trying to “read your future in your hand”. Anything to make you smile. -I should get going, the girls must be worried about me.

-          Maybe they have left you. -he gave you a side smile.

-          Oh, I better hope they haven’t. -you said. -They have their things at my house.

-          Pyjama party? Can I join?

-          Only if I can braid your hair.

-          If it makes you stay. -he said, looking at you with bright eyes. Before anything else could happen, you got up.

-          I should go. -you said.

-          When will I see you again? -he asked, getting up with you. -We could have dinner.

-          Roger, I d-

-          Or you could come to our next show. -he interrupted to again. -Next Friday, same time same place. I would love to see you there, Y/N.

His hopeful eyes made you feel bad. You wanted to say yes, to have dinner with him and let him have you for dessert. But you knew it would only hurt you more. You had been hurt before, you knew what it was to have your dreams and hopes crushed by someone else. That didn’t mean you were going to say no to the handsome and kind guy; so with a soft nod, you agreed to meet him again. Even if you had to fail an exam for him; his baby face and curious sense of humour would make it worthy. You could feel the relief radiating off his body when you nodded, and you said goodbye to him with a soft kiss on the cheek. Giving him his jacket, you turned to leave.

-          Roger? -you asked with your hand in the knob.

-          Yeah? -he looked at you.

-          Roger, you idiot! -you shouted. -You can’t open the door from the outside!

[galadrieljones]

A Funeral: Chapter 19 (Arthur Morgan x Mary Beth Gaskill)

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Existential Angst, Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nature, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Marriage, Epiphanies, Backstory, Banter, Deep Emotions, Sharing a Bed, Swimming, Arthur to the Rescue, Forests, Abduction, Angst, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Content, Sexual Themes, Adult Content, Canon Divergence, Found Families, Brotherhood, Fatherhood

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life is full of uncertainty and complications, and in their desperate search for meaning together, they endure a number of trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to the insidious dangers of the natural world, as well as to one another, and to their future.

Credit to @bearly-tolerable for the banner!! Art is my own.

***For the rest of this story, you can visit the masterpost or AO3, both linked in the replies to this post and also at my blog.***

Chapter 19: Poison Arrow

“What exactly is going on, Hosea?” said Dutch.

Hosea sighed. He ashed his cigarette, smoked, put it out in the ash tray. Somewhere nearby, you could hear the newspaper boy, calling out the headlines for the day. Dogs were barking. There were several other patrons out on the balcony with them that morning, having their coffee and their breakfast in the sun. “Arthur is leaning toward walking away, Dutch,” said Hosea. “With Mary Beth. Leaving the gang.”

Dutch did not look up. His brow became very firm and unyielding, like it got when he was thinking hard. “And.”

“And I have encouraged him to do so,” said Hosea.

“You have encouraged him,” repeated Dutch.

“Yes,” said Hosea. “I’ve been encouraging him for years. You know this. It’s just that finally, he’s listening. And I think it’s about time.”

“I wish—” Dutch looked up at the sky, squinting into the clouds. “Why hasn’t he come to me himself?”

“He would have,” said Hosea. “But I wanted to…feel things out first. Talk to you about it, just us.”

“I see.”

“We need to support him on this Dutch,” said Hosea. “Both of us. He’s been through…hell. With Mary and her degenerate father, and with Eliza before that. You remember Eliza, and Isaac, the brutality of how that ended. How it destroyed him for years.”

“Of course I remember, Hosea. Isaac was Arthur’s son.”

A flock of geese went by over the top of the city, squawking and flapping in a long, elegant V. “How do you feel about it, Dutch?” said Hosea. “How will you react to Arthur when he tells you he’s leaving the gang to make a better life?”

“Better?” said Dutch, confused, looking up at Hosea. “Better how?”

“All of us have lost people we love, Dutch. To this life. All of us. You, me, and Arthur. We thought, both selfishly and erroneously, that we could live the lives we live and keep our women safe. We dragged them down to the underworld. They stuck by us, because they were loyal, good girls, and they paid for it in the end. Eliza, Annabelle…Bessie.” Hosea looked down at his hands, flexed them open and closed. “It isn’t right. Arthur has a chance now, to do better.”

Dutch’s focus was dark, not sinister, but fearsome. The mention of Annabelle had spurned him. Hosea knew that it would. “We can’t…lose him,” he said.

“Why not?” said Hosea. “We’ve got a lot of good guns left, and I’ll stand by your side, Dutch, till the end. You have my word.”

“We need him. I…need him.”

“Is that your love for the boy speaking, Dutch?”

“What else would it be?”

“Your fear of losing his loyalties,” said Hosea. “Your fear of losing.”

“Excuse me?”

“Because that’s what this is,” said Hosea. “He would be choosing her, and in some essence, himself, over his loyalty to you. Do you understand that?”

Dutch began to fuss with his rings.

“You look afraid, Dutch,” said Hosea. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“He’s like a son to me,” said Dutch. “He’s more than that. That’s what’s on my mind.”

“Then you should be happy for him. If he chooses to leave, you should support him.”

Dutch looked up then, desperately curious. “Is he—does she make him happy, Hosea? Mary Beth Gaskill? You’ve seen it?”

“That’s how it seems, yes.”

“How it seems?” said Dutch. “Or how it is?”

Hosea gave him a long, careful look, reading his agenda. “Arthur would not be with her if she didn’t make him happy. He’s not exactly the settling sort. He doesn’t give himself to women with any sort of freedom at all, not in the past five years at least. And we know Mary Beth. She’s been in the gang for several years now. She’s a good girl. Her and Arthur have always been friends, shared interests. It’s not like she’s come out of the blue or anything like that. I think it’s safe to say she makes him happy.”

“What if she hurts him?” said Dutch.

“He’s a grown man,” said Hosea. “He’ll survive.”

“Arthur has a habit of getting hurt. Badly. If he runs off with her, and she leaves him, we’ll be right back where we started.”

“She won’t leave him,” said Hosea.

Dutch sighed, his jaw set firm. He folded his hands together on the table. “I want to talk to him myself,” he said.

“As you should,” said Hosea. “With this all coming from me, certainly you’re not getting the whole story. How will you handle it?”

“I’ll listen. I’ll deliberate.”

“And then what.”

“And then…we shall see.”

Hosea sighed, smoked. “Forgive me, Dutch, for saying what I’m about to say. But I must warn you—don’t attempt to poison him. Against her, against the idea. He’ll see through you. It won’t end well.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve done it before. With Eliza.”

The accusation took a moment to sink in, but once it did, Dutch became venomous. He slapped his palm to the table, very fast, so hard that it made a big noise, alarming a couple of nearby patrons.

“Dutch—”

He pointed his finger, in Hosea’s face, but he did not look at Hosea. “That was not my doing,” he said, angry. “Do not blame me for what happened to Eliza and Isaac.”

“I’m not, Dutch.”

“Eliza and Isaac were murdered,” he said. He ceased pointing. He ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, like looking back—it burst into him, regrowing some old pain he had not confronted in years. “They were murdered, by goddam barbarians in their own goddam home.” He opened his eyes, confronted Hosea with disquieting focus. “I searched for their killers for months, if you’ll so kindly recall, while Arthur, ruined soul that he became, succumbed to the power of his grief and nearly drank himself to death. Had I found them, I would have ripped their hearts out through their goddam throats with my own bare goddam hands, and you know this.”

“I would never blame you for what happened to Eliza and Isaac,” said Hosea. “That’s not what this is. Don’t be a fool.”

“Then what is this?”

“You weren’t crazy about it—the prospect of Arthur going back there to see them, as often as he did, and you let him know.”

“Of course I let him know,” said Dutch. “I also told him to corral her and the boy and to bring them with us. I never once told him to leave her behind.”

“As far as we know, he tried to get her to come with us, on multiple occasions. She just wouldn’t budge.”

“And had she simply acquiesced, perhaps the two of them would still be alive. But she didn’t, and they’re not, and Arthur—my blessed Arthur—suffered,” said Dutch. He lowered his voice now, as if what he was saying next was somehow a secret. “Forgive me for not wanting that to happen again.”

“He could’ve stayed with her. He could’ve made a life with her. That’s part of my point. But you encouraged him against it.”

Dutch lowered his voice then, displeased. He leaned forward on his elbows, looming as far over the table as possible. “He was twenty-five years old when she had that baby, Hosea.”

“I know.”

“He wasn’t gonna choose to settle down. Not with her, a teenage bar girl who he knocked up on a one night stand in a hotel room over the George Washington Tavern in Butte, Montana. What was he gonna do? Marry her? Sell his lungs to the local silver mine to keep her in rags while she raised his child in a tin shack, becoming an impoverished mining widow at the ripe old age of twenty-one?”

“Maybe,” said Hosea. “At least it would’ve been his choice.”

“Sure. His choice. His choice to die miserably, in a hole in the earth, a slave to some foreman with a loaded rifle in his hands. Well, god bless his soul, he didn’t make that choice, did he, Hosea? And it was not me forcing him.”

“You’re right,” said Hosea. “You’re right, Dutch.”

“You’re goddam right I’m right.” He relaxed, slouched back in his chair, crossed one leg over the other and looked out past the clean air of the balcony.

“But this is precisely why now is so important,” said Hosea.

“Whatever do you mean?” said Dutch.

“Because he’s moving on from all that. Talking with him, yesterday, he yielded as much. He's healing. All that business with Mary and her asshole father, and all that grief leftover from Eliza and Isaac. He���s making a choice now, to heal, and it might not be a choice that pleases you.”

“Then so be it,” said Dutch. “He’s not a prisoner. He is free to leave at any time. Why are we even having this conversation?”

“Because he loves you, and he looks up to you, and he’s gonna want your approval. That’s why.”

Dutch looked right at him and blinked.

“He’s not twenty-five anymore,” said Hosea. “That’s a decade past. He’s grown. But he still counts on you, on both of us. And I know you’re worried about him. That much I can ascertain. But Mary Beth is not a bar girl from the sticks in Montana. They didn’t make with a one night stand on the pretense of physical attraction alone. She’s capable, and she’s intelligent, and she’s been around for a long time now, and she loves him.”

“And as I said before,” said Dutch, “I believe you, Hosea. I do. I'd just like to him. Myself.”

Hosea sighed. He nodded once, very stern. “Then I’m trusting you,” he said, “to not attempt to destroy this for him. His loyalty these past twenty years is worth more than that, Dutch. Do not poison his mind, even in subtle ways. Do not force him to leave on uncertain or angry terms.”

“I would never. Do that,” said Dutch.

“Good,” said Hosea, looking out over the edge of the balcony. A sparrow came and landed on the railing, chirped, looked around, flew away. “That’s all I needed you to say. Now I’m gonna head back to Shady Belle,” he went on. “You and young Lenny come on when you’re ready.”

“What?”

“I said I’m gonna head back to Shady Belle.”

“Wait,” said Dutch, though he wouldn’t look him in the eye. He seemed flustered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t need to be…riding alone in these parts. It’s not safe. Just wait.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Hosea.

“Just—” Dutch took a long, deep breath, staring down at his hands, planted hard on the table. He was fucking pissed off, but trying hard to collect his composure. “—wait,” he said. “I don’t want you riding alone.”

Hosea was looking right at him, waiting to see if Dutch would look up, soften, or retract, but he didn’t. Hosea took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go tell the boy we’re leaving then.”

“You do that,” said Dutch.

Meanwhile, back at camp, Mary Beth was in the shade, touching up her blush, looking in a hand mirror. Everywhere was wet from the storm, but it made the swamps feel cleaner somehow, and it was invigorating, and after they’d woken up and gone off to do some chores round the yard that morning, she and Arthur had found each other and wandered into the surrounding tree cover alone. Once they’d left the purview of the camp, he picked her up and put her hard against the back of a tall cypress, and he made good of her with a kind of hidden speed reserved only for sex in the wild. She was still frazzled from it, and now he was over there, fixing a busted wagon wheel, with John and Charles, his sleeves rolled up, sweating and wearing his hat. She was caught looking by Karen, who came by holding a shotgun on her rounds from the perimeter. Karen stood, admiring with her for a moment, then she nudged Mary Beth with her elbow and said, kind of cheeky, “He sure is a snack, Mary Beth, but is he as good as looks?”

Mary Beth blushed and acted surprised by Karen being there. “Excuse me?”

Karen started to laugh. “Oh don’t be so shocked. I know. Everybody knows. It ain’t every day Arthur Morgan gets broken by a woman. That’s big news.”

“I didn’t break him,” said Mary Beth. “He ain't no horse. That’s not what it’s like.”

“Then what is it like? He ain’t been sweet on a girl since that Mary. I’d say good work, but I ain’t surprised by the two of you being together, to be honest. It’s nice.”

“Why’s that?”

“The way you’re always nerding around here, with your big ideas and your journals. Sean told me, too, before he, you know, got his brains blown out, that going robbing with you two, it was like being stuck in the third wheel. Arthur’s been hard on you for a while, it seems. Sweet, sensitive Arthur. You're lucky.”

Mary Beth sighed. The mention of Sean made her sad. “We never really talked about Sean,” said Mary Beth.

“Why would we?” said Karen.

“Because you two…kind of…didn’t you?”

“Didn’t we what?” said Karen. “Have a few go-rounds between the sheets while under the influence of whiskey?”

“A few go-rounds is more than one,” said Mary Beth. “Even on whiskey. If you kept going round, that’s a choice. At some point. Maybe it was more, maybe not. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I mean, it ain’t pretty. What happened. I’m real sorry.”

Karen got kind of quiet then. She was stone cold sober, which was a rare sight in those days, but it wasn’t unheard of. She lowered the gun down a little and looked away. She looked at the muddy ground. Then she looked at the sweaty sight of the boys fixing the wagon wheel. “Nobody ever asked me if I was okay with it,” said Karen. “Well, I mean, except Arthur. He’s always asking me if I’m okay.”

“Arthur is a good man,” said Mary Beth, smiling. “And are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Karen, looking down at her hands, holding that gun. “Thanks, Mary Beth.”

“I’m here for you,” said Mary Beth. “If you ever wanna talk. Or you just want someone to drink with. I ain’t great at holding my liquor, but I’m better than some.”

Karen smiled at this, very knowing. “Well, I’ll take you up on that. That is, if you ain’t too busy sneaking off with Arthur, carving out a slice together in the swamps.”

Mary Beth was scandalized. She nudged Karen with her elbow. “Karen!” she said. “You watched us?”

Karen was laughing now. “No. I didn’t watch. Not exactly. I just…saw. By accident. Don’t worry. It was only me, and I ain’t telling no one.”

Mary Beth’s face felt very warm. She tried to remember what it had been like, tried to remember what it was Karen might have seen…exactly.

“He’s a hair-puller, ain’t he?” said Karen, her voice low.

“Sweet Christmas,” said Mary Beth, exhaling. “Get back on your rounds before Miss Grimshaw comes over here and yells at us both.”

Karen laughed. “Whatever you say.” Then she was on her way back out into the trees.

A little while later, Arthur was leaning in the shade over by the scout fire, drinking some water from a canteen. He was talking to John, who smoked and looked serious. Mary Beth had just mended a busted tent belonging to Charles and given it back to him at the campfire. He sat with her now, and he was showing her how to mix together a kind of poison for weapons in return. He was a very good teacher, and a kind listener. He didn’t ask her about Arthur, though she knew he knew. His stoicism and restraint made her feel comfortable. He said she could use the poison on knives, arrows, or even buckshot if she wanted to get creative. In the background, Javier played his guitar, the music pretty and drifting in the waning hours of the early afternoon. Karen and Tilly sat beside him, over by the wagons, eating apples and swaying side to side. Sadie could be seen not far away, her turn on the perimeter, holding her gun, looking fierce but also somehow bored with the horses.

“It never hurts to be prepared,” said Charles, as he showed her how to tip an arrow in the poison. “Make sure you wash your hands real good after making this stuff.”

“I will,” said Mary Beth.

He smiled. He didn’t say everything that was on his mind. He was a quiet and careful sort of soul, like Arthur. She thought it was no wonder they were friends.

“Charles?” she said after a little while.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you kind of a personal question?”

“Sure,” he said.

She took a deep breath. She was curious. She thought he'd give her an honest answer, no matter what. “Do you ever…think about leaving this place?” she said. "Leaving the gang?"

He sighed, shrugged. “Sometimes,” he said, cleaning his sawed off in his lap. “But I’ve got nowhere else to go. And I still believe in Dutch. Even if he does seem…lost. For the time being at least.”

“You know,” she said, feeling wistful, admiring the poison arrow in her hands, “when I first got into the gang, I never wanted to leave. I’ve always trusted these boys. You boys. I still do.”

“If you and Arthur want to leave,” said Charles, looking up at her, right at her, reading her mind, “you should leave. Don’t look back. Find a better life, Mary Beth. I know I would if I could.”

She felt him gazing into her, so even in his temperament. His control. Then he blinked, and he broke his own focus, looked back down at his gun to continue his polishing. The arrow she held was beautifully fletched with beautiful feathers from a golden finch. She sighed, listening to the clanking sounds of the day—Pearson carving out a hefty deer for their dinner, Micah sharpening his knife at one of the tables nearby, Abigail feeding the chickens, Javier’s guitar.

Dutch, Hosea, and Lenny returned to Shady Belle around five o’clock. They had been in St. Denis, but it turns out they had stopped to fish along the way and came bearing a great bounty for Pearson. Arthur and Mary Beth had canoed out into the river a little ways and were emptying traps full of crawdads out in the surrounding swamps, a favor for Pearson. Arthur had his pants rolled up to his knees, and Mary Beth had her skirt near hiked over her shoulders. They were both barefoot in the mud. At one point, Mary Beth spotted a nasty Copperhead in the weeds, which Arthur flipped over with a stick and shot point blank with his pistol. It floated away, real dead, into the murky river. When they got back to the pier of Shady Belle, the light from the day was waning, and they rinsed off in a bucket of clean water, and Arthur put his boots back on. They were walking back to the house with a huge basket of the crawdads carried between them, and that is when they were greeted by Dutch, who was waiting by the gazebo, a surprise, reading a book and smoking a cigar.

“Arthur and Mary Beth,” he said, smiling in welcome. He closed his book and tossed it to the earth, took one last puff off the cigar and tossed that as well. “It’s good to have you two home.”

“Hey, Dutch,” said Arthur, as they came up with the basket. He and Mary Beth were carrying it together. “How goes it?”

“Just fine,” said Dutch. He then tipped his hat to Mary Beth. “Miss Gaskill.”

“Evening,” she said, graciously. “How long have y’all been back?”

“Oh, not long,” said Dutch. He took a deep breath. “I heard the two of you had quite the trip.”

“That, we did,” said Arthur. He gestured to Mary Beth to put down the basket. Then he dusted off his hands and approached Dutch head-on. She followed. “How was St. Denis.”

“Fine,” said Dutch. “We can talk more about that later.”

“Sounds good,” said Arthur.

There was a pause then, not awkward, but filled with some sort of tension. In the background, you could hear the fish swimming around in the river and also the Reverend somewhere, talking to Herr Strauss about the weather.

“Miss Gaskill,” said Dutch then, out of the blue.

“Yes?”

He removed his hat altogether now, held it in front of him by the brim. A gentleman. “Would it be all right if I…borrowed dear Arthur for just a moment?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling.

“Thank you,” said Dutch. Then he replaced his had atop his head. He looked at Arthur. “Arthur? Will you walk with me?”

Arthur nodded, real certain, chewing a piece of tall grass. “Always,” he said. He looked down at Mary Beth, put a little hair behind her ear, kissed her forehead, smiled.

Then he looked back at Dutch. “Come on.”

[rickstexaschick]

Rick and Harley: Chapter 8

Here is my next installment of my little backstory about Rick and Harley, and their history before they met Rick’s Texas Chick.  The story is posted on AO3 under rickdicted at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16592366/chapters/38884421

”Wh-What the fuck is this?”

“I’m leaving you, Rick.  I’m taking Beth and we’re moving in with my parents.”

There were suitcases stacked by the front door.  Garbage bags filled with Beth’s favorite stuffed animals — which was basically all of them — were sitting on the couch.

“Christ, Diane.  What brought this on?  And where’s Beth now?”

“You think you can just take off with some floozy, Rick?  I saw the two glasses on the coffee table.  You sat here with her in our house, my house, and drank and did who knows what…”

The thought of Harley being ‘some floozy’ made him laugh outright, in spite of himself, in spite of the sudden changes his life was now currently facing.

“Look, Diane.  I-I-I wasn’t with another woman, all right?  I-I-I would never do that to you.  I told you:  I had to go help out a friend.  From th-the army.  He just showed up out if the blue, looking to — for help.  With his business.  I’m gonna go into business with him, help him get it off the ground.”  The lies rolled smoothly off of his tongue.

“And what about us?  You were just going to leave us?  Beth and I?”

“Christ, woman, look at you!  You’ve already got your shit packed, f-f-fuckin’ —-“. His voice had grown to a near-shout as his quick temper flared up.  He caught himself, tried to check his anger and his language.  He looked over into the den.  “Wh-Where’s Bethy?”

“Mom and Dad have her.  I didn’t want her around for this, to hear us.”

They still hadn’t left the front entryway.  Rick ran a shaking hand through his hair.  Tried to focus.  He’d come back, intending to tell Diane that he wanted a divorce and that he was moving out, immediately.  And now that the tables were turned on him, he found himself wanting to fight to keep his family together.  As if to keep Diane from one-upping him.  This was stupid.

Focus, man...

“Look, Diane, our marriage is done.  We both know that.  B-B-But you don’t have to — don’t move out.  This is Bethy’s home.  I’ll move out.  You two stay here.  Th-that’s what I came to tell you, anyway.  We can get a divorce, nice and-and-and easy.  You can have custody, so long as I get to visit… I’ll take care of Beth, make sure she has insurance…”

They stood in the entryway of their home and stared silently at each other.

Just like that, their marriage was over.

*************************************

“Where do want to put this, Rick?”  Harley was standing in the back of his shop, holding a milk crate, heavy with parts and pieces of equipment.

“Over there, I guess…”. Rick turned around in the cramped space.  They were rapidly running out of room.  “I-I-I just… I don’t see how this is going to work, Harley.  Th-Th-There’s just not enough room…. We’re gonna be f-f-fuckin’ on top of each other…”

Rick spied a door with pieces of lumber stacked against it.  “What’s behind that?”

“That goes to some sort of cellar.  I think it was a storm shelter or fallout shelter that her dad built back in the ‘60s.  I haven’t been down there in awhile.  Not since we were married.”

“Well, fuck, man.  Let’s check it out…”  Rick climbed over and around crap to get to the door, then started moving the lumber away, clearing out enough space around it so he could open it.

A steep flight of rickety looking wooden stairs led down into the darkness.  Rick switched on a cobweb-covered light switch at the top of the stairs and a dimly-watted bulb flickered on.  Without hesitation he started down the stairs.  Harley heard the sounds of him stumbling against something heavy followed by a grunt of pain and a muttered curse.

“Hey, man.  You-you got a flashlight?”  His voice drifted up from the darkness.  “I can’t find any other light switches…”

Within a few minutes Harley came down the stairs with a couple of flashlights, and the two explored the cellar.  Thick cobwebs hung from the rafters across the ceiling and everything was coated in an inch-thick layer of dust.  Scurrying sounds told them that the cellar already had inhabitants.  The air had a cellar’s typical damp-musty smell, but there didn’t seem to be any immediate signs of moisture.

Boxes and bags of army-style ready to eat meals and food supplies were stacked against one wall.  Several army cots were folded up and leaned against them. The cellar ran the entire length of the shop, but only the first third by the stairs had painted drywall and linoleum flooring.  The remaining two thirds was plain plywood walls and a cement floor.  A string of lightbulbs ran down the center of the ceiling for the entire length of the cellar.

“Shit!  This is perfect!  I-I-I can just set up my workshop down here…”  Rick turned to Harley,  excited.  “I-I-If that’s ok with you, man.”

“Course it is, what the hell kind of question is that?”

Within a few weeks, Rick and Harley had outfitted the cellar so that it was better suited to Rick’s needs.  They replaced the electrical wiring and added to the existing plumbing, installed a couple of heavy duty aluminum sinks, two long work benches, shelving along one wall, and a chemistry lab hood and exhaust system for venting fumes outside. They replaced some of the steps in the stairs and shored up the entire staircase.  Rick insisted on adding stronger support beams across the entire ceiling.

“So you and your bikes don’t fuckin’ fall down on top of me, man,” he’d told Harley.  

But he confined his workspace to the area which Harley’s father-in-law had already dried in and floored.  The remainder of the cellar was fine as it was for now.  He didn’t need the space just yet.  He was eager to get back to work on his projects.

Two of the cots were shot, the canvas eaten away by mice.  They left the other two down in the cellar, for Rick to sleep on if he needed to stay close by while an experiment was running.  And for Harley to join him, if he wanted to.  The wool blankets had to be burned, along with the two cots, and all the bags and boxes of MRE’s — half of which had been broken into by the mice.

“Th-they say that these never go bad, but….  F-F-fuck, that shit was gross enough to eat when they were somewhat fresh.”

“You were in the army?”  Harley was somewhat surprised.  He’d joined up when he was 18, at Jack’s insistence.

“It’ll help you become a man, son.  If you don’t want to go to college, then do this instead.  Hilly and I and the shop will still be here for you, when you get out.”

And so he’d joined up for four years.  It was tough, having to deal with the regimented lifestyle, always having to follow orders.  He spent his time there learning all he could about mechanics, engines, welding, electrical, even some plumbing and carpentry.  Learned how to repair and build just about anything.  His CO had wanted him to sign on for another four years, make the Army his career.  But after four years, he’d had enough.

Finally, he finished, with “a trade” as they called it, and some maturity, some wisdom.  More level-headed than he was before, less likely to fly off the handle over the little shit, the way his dad had always been.  He’d rejoined Jack at the shop and they built up the business together.  Then he met Diane…

“Y-Y-Yeah.  My college advisor sort of pushed me into it, as a way to get my graduate degree in engineering.  Make the army pay for it, he said.  So I put in my four years, got a Ph.D, then did the ol’ GTFO, as they say.  OTS fucking sucked.  Crawling through muddy ditches, underneath barbed wire fences…”

“Hey, at least you were an officer.  I was never anything more than a fucking grunt.  Sergeant Fucking Sanchez, at your service, sir.”

“Captain Sanchez, to you.”  Rick laughed.

“I guess neither of us got very far with our military careers.  But it paid off, in the long run.  For me, at least.  I know it made Jack happy, that I went.  I think I was gettin’ to be a handful for the old man…”

“My career was better for it, getting my doctorate opened up a lot of doors…”

They sat quietly in the firelight for several minutes.

They were sitting in a couple of old lawn chairs, watching the bonfire and drinking long neck beers out of an ice chest which sat on the ground between them.  They’d tossed a ton of shit from the shop and the cellar out onto the pile, then waited until sundown to douse it with kerosene and light it up.

The flames climbed into the night sky as they passed a joint back and forth, drank beer, and talked.

“Ever notice how similar our lives have been?” Harley asked, after taking a deep drag on the joint before passing it back to Rick.

“What, just because we’ve both been in the Army?”  Rick scoffed.

“Nah, man, not just that.  I mean...we both had fucked up childhoods.  Our dads were assholes…We both ran away from home -- I went to the streets, you went to school, to college.”  He paused, taking a long drag.  “We sort of had foster parents who basically volunteered,  took over raising us…”  He drifted off, staring into the fire.

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”  Rick replied flatly.

“Hell, even our dimensions are similar.”  Harley had ignored him and resumed talking.  “Mine’s 319-D and yours is D-319.”

“So, what’re you sayin’.  That this was all written in the stars?”

“Might’ve been…”

“Ppppffftt.”  Rick took the joint back from Harley, took a big hit off it.  “I don’t believe in coincidences.”  He said it while trying to keep the smoke in his lungs for as long as possible.

They sat there, quietly watching the fire, they’re long legs stretched out in front them, and their beer bottles resting in their crotches.

“My wife...my Diane, she died.”  Harley’s voice was emotionless.

“Yeah, I kind of figured…”. Rick had been curious, but was uncomfortable asking.

“She died in an accident with this asswipe.  Went for a ride with him on his — this fucked up Yamaha crotch rocket that he’d built himself from parts that he got out at scrap yards.  Couldn’t afford to buy a real bike, so he pieced together a bunch of shit…He was so fucking full of himself, ridin’ around on that piece of junk, like he was some kind of goddamn road warrior hero…

“The night she died, we’d been at a bar, about twenty miles away from here, two towns over.  She was gettin’ drunk, being a pain in the ass, flirtin’ with this fucker in front of me just to piss me off.  Finally, I’d had enough of her shit, told her if she wanted to go with him, be my fuckin’ guest.  Told her they weren’t gonna make it five miles down the road on that tricycle before it broke down or they had a blowout, then she’d be sorry.”

“How far’d they get?”  Rick already knew the gist of the ending.

“About seven.  Front wheel came off, bad welding job, front fork snapped completely away from the frame.  Threw him off the bike, went ass over head across the handlebars, landed on the pavement, broke his neck.  Died instantly.  She got caught under the body of the bike, dragged about fifty feet.  Tore the skin off one of her legs, right down to muscle and bone, just like peeling an apple.  They were picking pieces of her flesh up off the road when I came up on the scene — had no idea what had happened, that it was her.  Them.  Until I saw the bike…

“She had a miscarriage in the ambulance on the way to the hospital — I didn’t even know she was pregnant.  Friend of hers told me later, at the funeral, that she was planning to surprise me.  But then a buddy of mine, that chick’s boyfriend, told me that she wasn’t sure who the father was, which one of us.  Me or that asswipe.  That’s why she hadn’t told me about it, yet.  She’d been shittin’ bricks for weeks, not knowin’ what to do.”

“How far along was she?”

Harley took a moment, drained his beer before chunking the bottle into the fire.

“ ‘Bout four months.  It was a little girl.”  Harley reached for the joint, took a long hit.  “She died on the operating table, while they were amputating her leg.”

“Jeez, man.  I’m sorry.”

Harley pulled another beer out of the ice chest, cracked the cap off and flipped it into the fire.

“Ain’t nuthin’ for you to be sorry about.  You didn’t kill her…”

“When was this?”

“Well, let’s see...How old is your Beth?  Three?”

“She just turned three last month.”

“Yeah...So, our Beths would have been the same age.  You do the math.  You’re the engineer…”

The bonfire shifted, sending a huge wave of sparks and embers up into the night sky, swirling up into the air on the currents of the heat and the smoke.  Like a flock of birds, released from a cage.

After some minutes, Rick cleared his throat, spoke again.

“I missed her birthday.  He took them to Disney World.”  Rick hadn’t been “allowed” to see Beth on her birthday.  Diane’s boyfriend had taken them out of town for the entire week, to Florida.

“Yeah, I remember that, that she pulled that on you, with him.  What’s his name?  Greg?”  The name had significance for Harley as well.  It was the name of his Diane’s lover.  The one who drove the crotch rocket and killed them both, along with Harley’s hopes for a family and a future...

“Yeah.  F-F-Fuckin’ Gregory the Great.  St. Fuckin’ Gregory…”  Rick’s voice was bitter with anger and disappointment.

Turned out, Diane had been seeing Greg behind his back for three years.  Fucking bitch.  Her parents had met him long before, thought he hung the moon.  Took care of Beth on all those long weekends that she was supposedly visiting them, but instead had been going off with that fuckwad.  She’d been planning to leave Rick.  She was just working up the courage to do it.  Coming home to an empty house and finding the two used whiskey glasses on the coffee table was all the impetus she needed.

Now, after hearing Harley’s story about his Diane, Rick wondered if his Diane new who Beth’s real father was…   But, no.  Rick reconsidered.  Just spend five minutes with that child and anyone could tell.  She was all him.  All Rick.  In temperament, intelligence… She even had his piercing blue eyes.  Only in her they were still innocent and trusting, full of love and adoration when she looked up at him.

He wondered how long that love and adoration would last.

Last week Diane married Greg, less than a week after their divorce was final, and he immediately moved into their house.  Her house, he reminded himself.  Rick had made good on his promise to give her the house.  It just sucked ass that she’d brought another man in so soon after he’d left.

And just like that, Beth had a new daddy.

It had hurt.  He didn’t want to admit it.  He had been trying his best to keep the marriage going, wondering why she was drifting away from him, emotionally.  Turns out she’d fucking drifted off completely, unmoored herself from their little harbor and headed straight out to sea.  Without a backwards look.

He’d been so concerned about Beth’s welfare and well-being.  Was willing to keep working at that dull, boring firm, just so she’d have health benefits and so he could save for her college.  Then Greg stepped in and took over, took all his hopes for any remaining semblance of a family away from him...

Harley sat in the firelight and silently watched him out of the corner of his eye.  It was going to take Rick awhile to get over it.  Losing his family out of the blue like this.  Harley could relate.  He was patient.

He got up from the lawn chair, started walking towards the house.

“Wh-Where’re you off to?”

“Gotta take a leak.”

“Well, just go, off behind the shop, like I just did…”

“Nah, man.  I’m gonna get something.  Show you something.”

He returned a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar, holding it by its neck.  He sat down, took a healthy swig of beer, then slipped the strap over his head and sat back in the chair.  He strummed experimentally a few times, tuning the guitar.  Then started playing.

He played a classical guitar song, something that sounded Spanish.  The melody was somewhat melancholic, fitting Rick’s mood.  Not too intricate or fast-paced.  Just a gentle song.  The notes seemed to hang over them before drifting up into the night sky to float away with the smoke and embers from the bonfire.

The song ended and the two sat in silence, the crackling of the flames and the calling of the frogs and night insects were the only sounds around them.

Rick cleared his throat, his voice hoarse with emotion.  “Th-Th-That was beautiful, Papi.  Play something else…”

He slid down in the lawn chair, his long legs sprawled out in front him.  He leaned his head back, resting it against the back of the chair, and drank beer and listened while Harley played.  He stared sightlessly at the fire as tears streamed unchecked down his cheeks.

[bobby-singers-library]

A Whirlwind Romance Chapter 4

Read the previous chapters here, Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Jo woke up slowly, she stretched, one hand touching the warm skin of another person. She smiled to herself and rolled over to snuggle against Crowley's back.

“You awake,luv?” his voice was even more scratchy then normal. Jo nodded against his back.

“What are you doing?” she asked sleepily, she could feel his arms moving.

“Just checking my phone, the Boss never gets a day off you know.” he grumbled.

Jo giggled at him and leaned up to peak over his shoulder and kiss his stubbly cheek, he turned enough to kiss her properly. She pulled back to smile at him, “Fuck it.” he said and tossed the phone onto the night stand. He fully turned over to take her back in his arms for a proper wake up.

Jo walked through the door of Singer and Son on Monday with a big smile on her face. She had spend the whole weekend with Crowley. Just an hour ago she had rolled out of his amazingly comfortable bed, shared a shower with him in his stupidly big bathroom, and had a quick breakfast before heading to work.

Jo got herself situated at her desk and checked her email and messages to prioritize what needed to be done first. She had just got off the phone with a client when Bobby knocked on her open office door.

“Hey Bobby, what do you need?” Jo smiled up at him.

“Just thought I'd give you a heads up.” he said with a serious face.

“Oh?” asked Jo with a frown.

“Yeah, your mama is spitting fire about how you left on Saturday. She was ranting and raving, then yesterday she called me and yelled some more because you weren't at your apartment and weren't answering your phone.” Bobby gave her a significant look. “She was also grilling me about Crowley. I didn't say much, but she kept trying.”

“Crap, Bobby, I'm so sorry. I should have known she wouldn't just leave it alone.” Jo said with a frown.

“I've been dealing with your moms crazy a lot longer then you have. But if I were you I would be prepared for her to come in here today. You should have just answered your phone when she called.” He groused.

“I had the phone on silent from when we had dinner, then I left it in Crowley's living room and just forgot about it. I only saw it this morning that mom had called like five million times and left me a bunch of, I'll just say rude, voice mails.” Jo ran a hand down her face, “And now I am trying to charge my phone and get the morning business done before I call her.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows “So I take it your more then friends now?” he gave a significant look towards her neck where several small hickeys could be seen, “Do I need to call him and have a talk about seducing young girls.” he asked jokingly.

“Ha no, it was mutual. And I'm 25 I don't need to be protected, Bobby.” She shot him a playful glare.

“Yeah, it will be fun when your mom and daddy find out you are dating a man who is only a a couple years younger then them.” he reminded her.

Jo sighed, “You didn't tell them how old he is?” she asked.

“Naw, didn't tell them much of anything except his name, your mama got mad at me when I couldn't tell her a last name. Told her how he and I both read history books and classic literature. That's about all I had to tell her.” he shrugged.

“Thanks Bobby.” she muttered.

Bobby nodded and grunted. “Well, I have work to do, try to not let your mama kill you.”

Jo gave a small laugh and waved him off. When he left she got some more work done, about an hour later she she sighed and picked up her cell phone to call her Mom. Before she could dial the number Ellen walked through her door. “Mom, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh? I'm sure,” was the sarcastic reply,” After all you've been ignoring me for almost two days, I figured you would just keep doing it.” Ellen snarked.

“Mom. Come on. I wasn't ignoring you. My phone was on silent and I left it in the other room. I am sorry. But I don't appreciate the nasty voice mails you left me. I am a grown adult, I don't answer to you and you talking to me like that, makes you the childish one.” Jo gave Ellen a serious look.

“I am your mother, Joanna Beth! I have every right...”

Jo cut her off, “NO, you don't. I have let you control my life, and chase off my boyfriends and generally act like a crazy person for far too long. I'm done, mom. I love you, but it's just too much. I just need you to back off. I'm sorry, but that's what I need.” Jo looked at Ellen imploringly.

Ellen glared at Jo for a moment before she turned around and left without a word. Jo sighed and put her head down on her desk.

For the next two weeks Ellen gave Jo the cold shoulder. At family dinners Ellen didn't say more then a few curt words to her. At the end of the last family gathering Jo's dad had given her a one armed hug and said he was sorry about Ellen being so curt. Jo had just smiled at him and told him it wasn't his fault. He has been doing his best to not get in the middle, but with a hard headed daughter and an even harder headed wife, he was stuck. Bill had always been a strong, steady, and mostly silent presence in her life. Always there for her when she needed him, but when it came to raising his daughter he always tended to follow Ellen's lead.

Twenty minutes after the awkward dinner had ended Jo opened the door to Crowley's apartment with the key he had given her. She had only been back to her place in the last two weeks to pick up her mail, water her single house plant, and to grab more of her clothes.

She kicked her shoes off and went to the kitchen to put away the leftovers she brought back from dinner. Crowley wasn't going to be back for another two hours max, he was schmoozing some investors at some fancy bar across town. She wished she had blown off family dinner to go with him.

She sighed and decided to crawl into his huge bed and wait for him there. She grabbed her lap top from the kitchen island where she left it that morning and headed to the bedroom. She pulled off all of her clothes and stole one of Crowley's shirts from the laundry to wear to bed, she wasn't planning on wearing it long after he got home anyway. She crawled into bed and dragged her computer closer.

She checked her email, nothing except a funny cat video from Charlie. She watched it and wrote her back thanking her for the amusement. She checked when the next gun and knife shows were happening. Then she started window shopping on eBay, she watched some cool vintage clothes just to see how much the auctions went up to. It didn't take her long to get bored, she put on Netflix, but was still bored, she knew what she wanted to be doing, but he was off in a bar somewhere.

She glanced over at the closet and caught site of herself in the mirror that hung in the back of it. She knelt up and looked at herself. Her hair was roughed up from how she was laying and Crowley's shirt fell over one shoulder, she angled herself a bit and she could see her tattoo peaking out below the dark cloth of his shirt. She grinned to herself and got out her phone.  She had to take 10 pictures of herself in the mirror before she got one she really liked, she wanted to make sure she was all covered but still sexy. She took a deep breath and texted it to Crowley with the caption, “I hope you don't mind I borrowed your shirt, miss you xoxo.”  She flopped back down on the bed and waited for a reply. She really hopped he had the sound turned up on his phone.

Crowley was sitting at a table with four other gentlemen, all of them older then him by at least five years. They were having drinks and discussing business opportunities in Sioux City and the surrounding area. At least that's what they were suppose to be talking about, somehow they had gotten off topic and were now trying to one up each other on who had the best golf story. He was bored out of his mind but kept a smile on his face. These men could make or break you in this area of the world. Just when he was thinking of getting a refill he heard Uptown Girl by Billy Joel coming from his pocket. All the other men stopped talking and looked at him.

He chuckled, “Must be my girlfriend.” he slipped his phone from his pocket to check it. He opened the text and his eyebrows went up as the picture came up on his screen. “Well...it seems I have a prior engagement gentlemen.” he stood up.

“Oh, you're not running off home because the lady called are you?” ribbed Carlson the oldest of the group.

“If you saw the picture I just got, you would be going home as well. Night boys.” He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the bar.

Jo pouted when Crowley didn't answer, he probably has his phone on silent she thought to herself. She stretched out and let her eyes close while listening to the movie she had playing on her computer. She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew she was being kissed awake. She couldn't have slept long because the movie was still playing. Crowley pulled back and smiled at her, “You send me a picture like that, then I get home and you're sleeping?” he asked with a grin as he stared unbuttoning the shirt she was wearing.

She stretched out again and gave him a sleepy smile, “You didn't answer, I thought you were busy.” she pouted.

He chuckled at her and finished opening the shirt, he ran his hand over her stomach and up to cup her breast and tease her nipple. She arched her back and moaned, “As soon as I got that picture I came home.” he leaned down and kissed her. She smiled into his mouth and wrapped her arms around him to pull him down on top of her.

An hour later they were sitting against the head board, sides pressed together and one of Jo's legs slung over Crowley's. They were eating ice cream out of one bowl and watching the movie Jo had on before Crowley got home.

“So how was family dinner.” asked Crowley in between bites.

Jo rolled her eyes, “Well mom barely said two words to me but she glared a lot. Dad told me he was sorry about it. I feel bad for him actually, he has never know what to do when we fight. Dean kept asking me inappropriate questions, while Charlie winked and giggled. I swear they are both like children. And I caught Sam giving me worried looks. Ash didn't show up because he is in some sort of video game war with his online nemesis. Bobby was the only one who was acting normal, which he also sent along another book, it's on the coffee table.”

Crowley sighed and hugged her closer. He knew this rift between her and her mom was chewing her up inside no matter how much she tried to blow it off as nothing. “Is there anything I can do?” he murmured against her hair. Jo let out a small sigh and rubbed her face into his chest.

“No, I think if we did go over there together she might be more angry. I know we will have to do it, I don't want to hide you or make you into my dirty secret. But I think we should let her cool off before we unleash you on her.” She smiled as she felt him chuckle against her.

“Anytime you're ready I'll be there.” he rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I did have a question for you though.”

Jo leaned back to look at him, “Good question, or bad question?”

He smiled, “I think it's good. Next weekend I am going back to London for three days. I was wondering if you would come with me. I'd like you to meet my family.” he looked at her hopefully.

Jo's mouth was open in shock, “Really?”

Crowley cleared his throat, “I have told them about you, they want to meet you. And honestly I have to to go home, I need to see my boy, but I really don't want to be away from you for three days, as cheesy as that sounds.”

“I don't want to be away from you either.” She leaned into him for a quick kiss. “When do we leave?”

He grinned at her, “Thursday afternoon, then we'll head back Sunday. Hopefully be back in time for work Monday.”

“I'll have to tell Bobby I need Thursday and Friday off, seeing as I've never taken a day off in five years, he should be fine with it.”

“We'll just promise to bring him a book or two, he won't be able to resist.” Crowley grinned.

Jo laughed and leaned in to kiss him again. “I've never actually got to use my passport! I'm excited! Tell me what airline and I'll look up how much my ticket will be.” Jo leaned away from him to grab her lap top.

“Ah, well, you see, I already got you a ticket when I bought mine.”

“That was very presumptuous wasn't it?” she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well if you said no, I just wouldn't have mentioned it.”

“Are you kidding? Plane tickets aren't cheap!”

Crowley shrugged, “I could probably commute to England every weekend for years and not make a dent in the family holdings, Jo.” he said seriously.

“I just...can't even.” Jo said starring at him dumbly.

Crowley shrugged, “The money doesn't mean anything to me compared to you. I can easily afford an extra plane ticket to take you with me if you want to go. So please just, let me do this for you?” he pulled her close to him again.

Jo sighed. “It's hard for me, my family has always been stubborn about what they see as charity. It was drilled into me as a kid that you work hard and support yourself.” she wrapped an arm around his neck and nuzzled his cheek.

“The difference is that this isn't charity. I have every intention of being with you as long as you'll have me, which means what's mine is yours.” he looked at her seriously. “I know it hasn't been very long but I lo...care about you deeply.” he stopped himself before he said love.

“You idiot, were you about to say you love me? We've known each other 3 weeks, and...”

Crowley cut in “I know, I know, I don't want you to think you have to....” Jo pressed her hand over his mouth.

“Don't think for an instant that I don't love you too. It's just so dumb. It's so fast, but it doesn't mean that I haven't loved you from day one.” Jo removed her hand and replaced it with her mouth, kissing him deeply. He made a pleased sound and rolled her under him to kiss her lips in a series of pecks, then he kissed her cheek, and the tip of her nose.

“Best news I've heard in years.” he mumbled as he then started kissing her neck from on side to the other, then down her chest. She laughed and smoothed her hand over his hair, down his neck and over his shoulders. He looked up at her and grinned “Still can't stop touching the tats, huh?”

She shook her head and ran her hand over the colorful dragons again. He smirked back and ran his hand down her body to her hip where her tattoo rested. They smiled at one another.

A/N  This can also be read on my AO3 at http://archiveofourown.org/series/830193

[twdmusicboxmystery]

2017 Re-Watch: 3a

Good morning! So here are some observations about 3a.

First, I gotta mention the premier (3x01). Beth, of course, sings Parting Glass for the group the first night they clear out the prison yard. It’s one of my favorite scenes because Daryl stares at her as she sings, which is nice. ;D. 

Actually, this is kind of a theme in s3. You don’t get a full picture of it until 3b when Merle comes to the prison. Beth sings again one night (I believe it’s in 3x11, just before Clear) and Merle does the same thing. Merle also comes out of the darker part of the prison where he was hanging out by himself, away from the rest of the group, to watch her sing:

I’ve always just found it interesting and sweet. The Dixon boys wouldn’t have grown up with music in their house. It’s like they’re transfixed by her singing. I’ve always loved that.

But I digress.

When they get inside the prison, and everyone starts finding cells to sleep in, Daryl says, “I ain’t sleeping in no cage.” Just struck me as an early sign of Daryl’s aversion to imprisonment, which obviously we saw a lot of this season. I do believe he moves into a cell eventually, but only after they’ve been there awhile and it’s started to feel more like a home.

Beth is very hopeful after Hershel loses his leg. Maggie decides he’s going to die and mourns him even before he’s dead. (Sound like what happened with Beth in S5?) Beth, on the other hand, is hopeful and practical. She has faith he’ll pull through and even goes so far as to cut and mend his pants to compensate for the missing leg. So he’s not dragging a pant leg around. Just kind of interesting. Obviously she’s always been this way. Always been the one to “do something.” And obviously this could have been built on for S4.

3x03 - The helicopter crash. Okay, the crash itself isn’t very significant. They used it to introduce the Governor and his anarchy. Something occurred to me that never had before. We see a helicopter crash, and two minutes later, in the same scene, Merle–who’s been missing for almost 2 seasons–returns. Now, the only other time we’ve seen a helicopter crash was in 4x01, which included the Bethyl hug and Beth coming front and center. Granted, 4x01 was the beginning of her arc rather than the end, but I wonder if the helicopter crash was included partly to foreshadow her parallels with Merle. Disappearing and then later reappearing. Just an idea. (P.S. They also focused on a helicopter in 1x01 after Rick awoke from his coma. Just saying.)

3x04 - Something Merle said to Andrea in this episode stuck out to me. She gave him a map of Hershel’s farm and where they’d searched for Sophia. Merle wanted to go look for Daryl. Of course Andrea didn’t know where the group ended up. Remember on Monday I said the theme of Andrea being left behind by the group continues heavily into S3? Well, here it is.

Merle pressures her to come with him. He wonders why she’s not more curious about the wellbeing of the group. She gets this self-conscious look on her face, and he puts the pieces together. She’s either angry or sad about being left behind. She knows it wasn’t on purpose, but now she’s in Woodbury and likes it, so she has little interest in rejoining the group, even if Merle finds them. Then Merle says, “We got something in common. We were both left behind by the same group.” Like I said, it stuck out to me because it’s a being-left-behind theme shared by Andrea (many of whose arcs went to Beth) and Merle (who disappeared and reappeared several seasons later). About the only other things these two characters have in common is knowing Daryl (and TF) and having massive parallels to Beth. Just saying.

So to add to this, I don’t read the CBs. So I asked my FB group to fill me in about Andrea’s story lines in the CBs. Those who read them know none of what happened with Andrea in S3 happened in the books. She wasn’t separated from the group or left behind. No romance between her and the Governor. It’s interesting to me because it shows this being-left-behind-by-the-group arc was written for Andrea specifically for the show. I couldn’t point to it as a possible TD thing the writers followed the comics here. They didn’t.

Beth got Andrea’s scars and Gimple gave her Andrea’s costuming in 3x16 (which I’ll get to next week). It only makes sense they would have given her a “left behind” arc just like Andrea’s as well. While we did see her be separated from the group in S4/S5, we really haven’t seen the left behind bit yet. It’s yet to come.

3x06 - So this is probably the biggest thing I saw in 3a. This is the episode where Daryl finds Carol alive after presuming her dead. We all know about those parallels and I don’t need to go over them, other than this pic, yeah?

One thing occurred to me that hadn’t before. It’s kind of obvious, but I never thought of it before. While walking through the cells, talking to Carl about his mom, Daryl sees a door being pushed open over and over again. We later learn it’s Carol, trying to get his attention. When he walks by it, he pushes the door back, thinks it’s a walker, and they’ll kill it when they circle back around. Then he passes by and keeps talking to Carl.

Is that jumping out at anyone else in a big way? Given what we think happened with Beth after Grady? TF and Daryl weren’t paying attention to what was really going on. They’d already presumed her dead, and it didn’t enter their minds anything else could be the case. (Same here with Carol’s condition. She’d already been buried.) Maybe at Grady they didn’t check certain things very well (like her vitals). They leave, meaning to come back around a second time later. For Carol, this is sort of an inadvertent leaving-her-behind thing. Obviously if Daryl had realized this was Carol the first time, he’d have dived right in to get her right then, but he didn’t.

It just feels like YET ANOTHER parallel between Carol’s faux death and Beth’s.

Then we move on to Daryl’s story about his mom. We’ve seen parallels here before, specifically because he uses the line, “She’s just gone,” when talking about his mom’s death. SO many more things jumped out at me this time. Pretty much everything he says to Carl about his mom could be applied to Beth in some way. I’ll illustrate. I think the writers used this as loose template for Beth’s story line where Daryl was concerned because this already happened to him as a child, and it would affect him profoundly for it to happen to another woman he cared so much about. So go with me here:

“My mom, she liked her wine.

She liked to smoke in bed. Virginia slims.

I was playing out with the kids in the neighborhood. I could do that with Merle gone. They had bikes. I didn’t.

We heard sirens getting louder. Everyone jumped on their bikes, ran after it, you know, hoping to see something worth seeing. I ran after them, but I couldn’t keep up.

I ran around the corner and saw my friends looking at me. I saw everyone looking at me. Firetrucks everywhere. 

People from the neighborhood. It was my house they were there for. That was my mom in bed, burnt down to nothing. That was the hard part. You know, she’s just gone. Erased. Nothing left of her.

People said it was better that way. *laughs* I don’t know. It just made it seem like it wasn’t real, you know?”

I’m especially eyeballing the “erased” part. Kinda like they seem to have erased Beth from the show, won’t even say her name.

You know, we like to focus on this episode as the one in which Maggie and Glenn are taken hostage, and show that as a Beth parallel. This is also the episode where Michonne had to survive by herself in the woods. After that, she stumbles upon TF. Just saying.

3x07: Just wanted to point out Carol’s reunion with the rest of TF, especially where she hugs Rick, is very similar to Terminus. Lots of similarities there. Here she meets Judith and finds out about Lori, saying how sorry she is. In 5x01, she leads Rick back to Judith. Just kind of interesting.

(Notice even the similar arm positioning, and where Daryl stands. Also kind of interesting that you can see Beth smiling in the background of the top (S3 pic, on the right side. And once again, in S3, someone who was presumed dead just came back to life.)

Michonne calls the Governor the “Jimmy Jones” type, which I found interesting. Jimmy Jones was a cult leader who led 900 followers to commit suicide in 1978, Kool-aid style, which I think is where the “drink the Kool-aid” expression comes from. (Haven’t they used that phrase in the show before?)

Anyway, I thought it was interesting because, while the Gov doesn’t actually lead the people of Woodbury to suicide, he does kill a lot of them by his own hand at the end of S3. Just saying it’s a dialogue parallel. They do exist.

We also have this convo in this episode:

Beth: This is Maggie and Glenn. Why are we even debating this?

Daryl: We’re not. I’ll go after them.“

Not only is this a fun, early Bethyl interaction, but we see a lot of Beth’s spirit and determination here.

3x08: Just a few thoughts here. In this episode, Tyreese and Sasha were introduced. Given all the parallels in both Sasha’s and Ty’s deaths to Beth, it’s interesting to me that they were introduced in a MSF. In other words, episode 8. I’m wonder if it helped Gimple decide how to weave their arcs moving forward, entwining them with Beth’s. Maybe it figured in them becoming such heavy proxies.

Another interesting thing: Daryl is left behind captured by the Governor. Daryl tells them to go and he’ll cover them and catch up. It didn’t happen like that with Beth, of course. I just found it interesting that he was left behind and briefly imprisoned.

Michonne has her big smack down with the Governor here. This is where she kills Penny and then ends up relieving the Gov of his eye. She had a hard core fight with him in 3x08, and then fought him again/helped kill him in 4x08. Perhaps some evidence that episode numbers sometimes line up?

Finally, Daryl is NOT rescued in the MSF. It ends with him in the ring with Merle, still imprisoned. Interesting parallel to Beth NOT being rescued in Coda. If she comes back at the beginning of S8, then we’ll have her liberation at the beginning of a block of 8 episodes, not at the end. In S3, Daryl is rescued in 3x09, which is the beginning of 3b, not the end of 3a. I hope that makes sense. It would just be an interesting parallel if Beth returns at the beginning of a half season, rather than the end.

I think that’s it for 3a. Anyone see anything else?

[auralaet-blog]

Human!Elly x Zen

So my friend @love-elizabeth-the-3rd posed me the question of how human!Elizabeth the 3rd and Zen would end up together. Now before I go into this, it started out because she’s trying to rp as Elizabeth. But as I’m sure you can predict, it’s REALLY hard to do anything significant in an rp as a cat. So we started fleshing stuff out. Here’s a bit of our conversation:

Me: 

And Seven's like teaching Elly all these things like how to game

And how to do all of these silly things

And Jumin's like, "THAT'S NOT PROPER. AND STOP CALLING HER ELLY. HER NAME IS ELIZABETH THE THIRD. E- LIZ-A-BETH THE THIRD. DON'T YOU FORGET IT."

And then he sweeps Elly away from Seven

"Elizabeth, you need to stay away from Seven. He's nothing but trouble. True, he is exceptionally talented, but he's also completely out of line! Young ladies like you shouldn't have to be doing things like this! If you wanted some entertainment, I or V can take you to the theater. Amusement parks aren't proper for young ladies!"

Elly:

Omfgggggggggg

>w<Im loving this kldjfakdfja

You write it so on point omg

Me:

lol That's just how I'd imagine human!Elly universe

Like... I don't want to change things too much from the canonSo I just adjust a little of it

To fit her being human

I think that Jaehee dislikes having to "babysit" her because she's so naive and just innocently curious so she's always prying into things.

And it's so distracting to Jaehee

And Jaehee's like YOUR FRIEND IS STILL MAKING ME WORK YOU'RE A GROWN WOMAN WHY DO I HAVE TO BABYSIT YOU?!

Elly:

looool omg poor Jaehee, at least she doesn't have to deal with cat fur

Me:

lol Yeap. I haven't decided if I'd incorporate something else in there instead. 

Maybe Elizabeth doesn't really know how to deal with perfume so she douses herself with it because she figures if a little smells good, then a LOT will smell fantastic. 

And because of that, it's just ALL OVER JAEHEE'S HOUSE

 Like... you can track Elizabeth through the house by that perfume

 And maybe Zen's allergic to the perfume

And it drives him nuts because he sees her as just another Jumin

And doesn't realize that she's just ridiculously innocent and naive because Jumin is so overprotective

So that’s where we started... and then she asked me about human!Elly x Zen. I’m putting this below because I started and it just grew to huge proportions. Keep reading if you’re interested. Apparently she found it entertaining and asked me to post it, so here we are!

lol Zen x Elly is hilarious Because they'd literally get together because they keep being thrown into contact with each other And there's so much miscommunication at first And Elly just wants everyone to like her And then there's Zen, who is nice to everyone (except Jumin, wth?) And for whatever reason, he avoids her like the plague And finally she corners him and asks him about it And he explodes And then they end up so mad at each other So she tries to not talk to him But at the same time, she can't help but be drawn to him He's so lively and energetic So different from the cold world that she's used to Somehow whenever they're in the same room together with a crowd, they end up near each other. As for Zen At first he thought she was just another Jumin Stuck up trust fund kid But Jaehee asks him to help her out and escort Elly to something because she needed to get some work done And being sympathetic because the trust fund kid overworks Jaehee, he agrees But Elly chooses to go to an orphanage and spend time there with the kids Then she drops by a food bank And then she stops by a community center And Zen is just CONFUSED THIS IS NOT WHAT HE EXPECTED WHERE IS THE RICH GIRL!? Their last stop was at an animal shelter Elly remembers Zen's allergy and tells him that it's fine to stay outside And he's just like... wat? You remembered that?

And then she looks at him confused like, "Yes? Why is that unusual?" Then goes into the shelter Zen's just sitting there in the car really confused and rethinking his original assumptions And then she comes back out of the shelter in a completely separate change of clothes, just as designer as her outfit earlier. And Zen's like, "Oh. I'm not wrong. She's still just a trust fund kid" And he makes a snide remark about her not being able to handle getting her clothes dirty And she gets mad at him as they're driving back Because she changed clothes because she didn't want the fur on her clothes to cause him to start sneezing And so she tells him off and then stomps out of the car, heading back up to her apartment And he's just stunned She was THAT worried about him? And then he starts making efforts to start seeing her more often He's so confused But she's not having ANY of it She doesn't want to see him She doesn't want to deal Because the last time she tried to be nice, he gave her crap He keeps throwing these labels onto her without even knowing her Finally, Zen manages to convince Seven and Jaehee to help him out because he just CANNOT get her out of his head Jaehee took a lot of convincing But Seven was down because anything to get Elly out to have more fun and freedom was good for him! Besides the challenge of breaking past Jumin's security was great Jumin had noticed that Elly had become a lot quieter and wasn't as bright And logically he concluded, based on Zen's constant questions  after her, that it was Zen's fault. FINALLY, Jaehee asks Zen to help her go pick up Elly from a charity ball that she'd gone to. Zen, determined to impress, puts on a nice suit and shows up at the ball to pick her up. Only he's stunned when he gets there He'd always thought she was a princess, but he'd meant that as in she was spoiled But this? She's stunning BEAUTIFUL

And just like that, any reservations that he may have had before is gone. He's in love. Done. Only... she thinks he hates her and she hates him for all of his original presumptions What does he do? He wants to be by her side. The time where she was avoiding him just felt dark... He doesn't want that. Elly hates to admit it, but she kind of misses Zen He seemed to understand more of these emotions that Jumin and her parents felt were childish She'd enjoyed that day out with him. He'd been good company... until the end there. That was exactly the problem though. He thought she was just a spoiled little rich girl. That she was so one dimensional. He never even gave her a chance. It wasn't worth her while So she's waiting to leave the charity ball and one of her father's coworkers came over and stood by her, flirting with her. She tried to politely decline, but he just wouldn't take a hint And that's when Zen finds her At first he's stunned But then he sees the guy hitting on her And it drives ALL of his protective instincts NUTS He charges in there and tells the guy off and drags Elly away, guiding her into the car And just driving away He's so frustrated and annoyed and he just drives Elly's so confused by his actions, but can see the tension rising off of him

So she's quiet because Zen just seems super volatile. And finally the car stops.

They're in Zen's special spot

And Zen gets out of the car and is just pacing like CRAZY

He doesn't know what to say, but he's gotta say something

HOLY COW IS THIS KIDNAPPING?!

BUT I WANNA TELL HER THAT I'M SORRY AND I ACTUALLY LOVE HER

But come on

Be smooth!

You're Zen!

No problem!

Yeah. He blurts out that he's in love with her and he's sorry that he was such a jerk

<.<

Smooth

Real smooth, Zen

And then he's just EMBARRASSED

Because he meant to show her that he was someone she could rely on

But all she's seen are the bad sides of him

But she comes over and hugs him

And tells him that she's been feeling the same way, but she can't do anything about being rich.

Her family just is and she's not going to throw it away when she could be using her high profile name to get attention to these societal problems

And Zen confesses about his family, how hard it's been

How much he misses them

Wants them to accept him and his dreams, but they just wanted a perfect lawyer or doctor son

They end up spending the entire night there, just sitting on the car and talking.

lol Up there all dressed up fancy

And in the morning, he drops her off at her apartment, kissing her hand and asking if she'd be willing to go out with him, to give him a chance.

She's a princess and deserves the world and he's just a flawed and rusty knight in shining armor, but would she PLEASE just give him a chance

And of course, she says yes.

After that, they start dating

Of course, right off the bat, they have to deal with Jumin

Because dear lord, SHE IS PRECIOUS AND YOU DO NOT TOUCH HER ZEN'

STAY AWAY FROM HER

Elly has to intervene and tell Jumin that this is HER life to live and that she loves him like a brother but that doesn't give him the right to control her life

V just wants her happy

Jaehee is SO RELIEVED

Because now, Jumin's not going to tell her that she has to watch over Elly like Elly's a child

And Seven and Yoosung are stoked because now they have the freedom to drag Elly to ALL the fun places

Like AMUSEMENT PARKS

Jumin was not amused

As for Zen and Elly? It took a while and there were more misunderstandings and it was weird to mesh their lives together since they were such high profile people

But they managed

And now, Jumin comes over to visit his "niece" and Zen tries to deal with it, but every so often just kicks Jumin out of the house

"GO GET A CAT AND STOP COMING TO HANG ALL OVER ELLY AND MY DAUGHTER"

And their daughter is just the darling of the RFA

She has white hair from her parents

And the most unique purple eyes, a combination of Elly's blue and Zen's red eyes

And she is the sweetest and most understanding girl in the world

They teach her that money is power, but it's power that you can and should use for others

That you can look good, but you still need to be kind and giving

And every day, Zen is determined to prove to Elly how much he loves her. His armor is less rusty now. It's shinier

And now covered with hearts drawn on by his daughter and wife

THE END

[lazyturtleloss-blog]

3 stories one title 

I was chilling with my friends when this one girl comes up to me. Her name was Julianne or something. And she led me to a secluded area in the school that I didn't even know of. I felt awkward. I didn't know what to say. I was alone with this girl and she got something to say. Then I asked "what's up? Why'd you drag me here?". I haven't noticed, but this girl was banging like damn she got them good genetics! Body right, nice scent, pretty face it just didn't make sense. She came closer. So close her breasts started to hit my chest. THEY WERE SO SOFT DAMN IF I LAYED ON THEM I WOULD SLEEP. She got close and said "I'm going to make you mine." Knowing me, you can't get me on lockdown I will find a way to get out of the jail cell you call "lockdown". I was pretty upset saying "nah no way you can lock me down. You know how much girls I've dealt with? You're nothing special." She was shocked. But one of those hand to the chest shocked but she was still smiling. Shit that was hot. And that was one weakness of mine. Turning the tables on me. "You know you're real cute when you're trying to be all tough. You're really strange but I can get addictive by just your attitude. I'll have fun with you. But to this day, you're mine. okay?" Damn this girl is dangerous. Then Julianne left. But I'm trying to get at her. Okay. Let's play this game then shorty. 

After a week has passed I started to feel some type of way. I don't like these emotions I'm feeling. I'm overthinking. I never overthink. Especially for a girl. Not after what happened between my grade 10 crush. Damn was she beautiful. Eyes of fall. Body of a fit lioness. Her sweet scent of lust. Her intelligence of a professor. Damn was she dangerous. I shouldn't of fell for her. I was a mouse in her puzzle. I should've escaped. Because every time she moved the puzzle, she would watch me fail. I didn't like it and it made me feel like a puzzle piece I could be disposed of. I wouldn't say this if it wasn't for the truth. I was shown the truth one day when me and her were chilling with my friends. She was awkward with all of them. But all of them were laughing. It didn't make sense until my boys brought me to the side, leaving her alone. The words I could hear but I didn't believe in were "haha fam don't you know that girl fucked with all of us? I can't believe you brought her with us. Oh you have a crush on her? Oh shit. Don't worry fam we can save you if you need to be saved. Just holler." Damn I didn't believe it. It hurts the most knowing the most beautiful girl was like wifi; she connected with what's in our pockets. My friends, my very close friends told me all about how they got bare shit from her from donuts to money. I realized, she used me to give it to my friends. I'd rather give it to them than her to use me just to give it to them. Fuck this. Fuck this attempt with girls. I'm not being used. She used me. I'm not a person to use. Just fuck girls and leave. At least we got both something off our shoulders. I'm done. Girls aren't trustworthy. I came back to my senses and realized my boys got my back. I tell them "alright I'm dropping this girl. She used me just to give you guys gifts I can just do that. You guys in?" "Hah you know it let's do it!" We came back to her. I said we needed to go. She said alright and we left. We were at the train station. She had to go one train me and my friends on another. Then once we're waiting for the train and me and my "crush" both see our trains coming I hit her with "hey you know what's the difference between our trains?" She asked "what?" "One train's going home another is going to another mans house get trained on, you hoe." my boys hyped it up coming with "next stop nut hill!" "That's the only train you don't need to pay for!" And "the only way of stopping that train of yours is a condom!" And we left. Shit but on the inside, I wanted her. A lot. But she used me. You can't be with users and abusers. Because by the time it was grade 11, every guy knows her as being an easy A. Fuck it I need my emotions gone. But now, I’m just chilling in bed thinking about Julianne. Damn that girl is smart. She’s making me think. Making me feel wanted. Alright you know what I’m going to break curfew and I can’t leave home through the front and back door. I pulled up my window and I can land it. If I don’t miss the table. I started to change. I was wearing a Levi’s blue jeans, a belt, got my Nike borough mids hitting the ground as he walks, shit hopefully it wasn’t loud. I had a white shirt underneath my Levi’s sweater, and with a black adidas hat. I looked shady but whatever I gotta go meet her. I called my friend to ask where she was. He replied with “she’s hooking up with some guys up at the beach.” The beach? What is she doing there? “Why what’s up fam? Got some situation with her? She’s dangerous you know?” I answered with “I know. Respects fam. Link up with me at the beach?” He answered with “alright I got you. I’ll bring the car so I can go home quickly. I shouldn’t even be out right now.” “Yeah I know. Thanks let me ride with you after.” I hang up. I run to the bus. And the bus ride there made me think of what I’m doing there. Well I still have a feeling that she is needed. Whatever let’s go see. I link up with my friend and we walk to where she was last seen. What I’ve seen was heartbreaking. Damn just like last time. But this time, it wasn’t my friends telling me what they’ve done, she was showing what she’s done. She wasn’t banging my friends, no. She was banging men 5+ years older than I was. I was 18. And it was in public. My body didn’t move. I was too shocked to move. I waited 3 minutes until my boy brought me back by yelling “AYO JACE WAKE UP WTF ARE YOU DOING?!” I snapped out of it. I woke up. That loud sound also startled Julianne. She looked scared. “Jace…..” the guys that were banging her asked “yo you know this dude?” She stayed silent. I just looked at her, Ashamed. Why did I stay? Why did I think. “Fuck Jace I didn’t want you to see me like-” “so this is what you mean when you said you wanted to make me mine.” “No Jace that’s not-” “so you put me on the side so you can have someone there. But not think about me even once.” She started tearing up and trying to hide her naked body. The guys that were banging her started putting their pants back on. “Heh we’re leaving. Have fun with that boy toy of yours.” Julianne yelled “he isn’t my boy toy!” But those words didn’t hide the words “boy toy”. Was I just a boy toy? A game to a girl that almost made me feel emotions for a girl again? I couldn’t understand. I didn’t want to understand, it just hurts my heart. I just stared. Stared at a girl I wanted. A girl that was beautiful. A girl that made me think. It was a waste of my memory and thinking. I was mad. At her. At myself. At my emotions. The only words that could come out was “I shouldn’t have believed in you.” Those words hurt. To me, because those were the only words I can muster up. And to her, because I saw it made her body quiver. And she just got dressed. “Jace please don’t say that…” I turned around. “I shouldn’t have came. I shouldn’t have stayed. I already experienced this. After all, something like this happened to me.” Julianne grabbed my arm. “Who did this to you before?” I yelled “don’t worry about it! You’re going to be the second one who does it and you’re just going to be the past! Fuck it whatever. I shouldn’t have came. Have fun with your life. You heartless woman.” Then I dashed her arm away from me. My friend comes and says “should we get revenge?” I say quietly “nah just leave her alone. She’s not worth it like my grade 10 crush.” “Goodbye Julianne.” Me and my friend left her all alone at the beach. We drove off. I was the the front seat contemplating about life. My friend was acting like an asshole and played drake “marvins room”. “Imma kill you fam!” And he just laughed harder. 

A few years later I got off the bus. I was walking to work. As I walked past a former crush across an intersection I sensed a cry that made even a grown man would have felt hurt. I moved closer to the sounds. It was coming from a cemetery. The sleek grey of the skies, the tear felt cries from the clouds. I knew today someone lost a person important to them. The afternoon rush hour made the environment so noisy but I couldn’t hear them because my focus were the time and the cries. As I walked closer to the sound of the cries I was sacrificing my shoes to the dirt for the heart felt cries. But it didn’t matter. As I approached closer, it was an old man and a young woman who I guessed was his helper. That didn’t make sense. Because there was no burials today. As I walked closer to them, I got to see what he looked like. He was fragile, was getting a bald spot on his head, and was wearing a robe to keep him warm. Then, I was approached by his helper. She asked “do you know of Mr. Thompson sir?” “No I don’t but I heard his cries and it pained me.” “Ah I see. Well… the reason you might be feeling a lot of emotion is because Mr. Thompson has Alzheimer’s. He forgets about everything at one point. He doesn’t remember anyone. Except for his wife.” As I looked at the gravestone,there were a lot of roses. it read “Mary Beth Ashley Thompson 1952-2003” “she’s been dead for so long. But Mr. Thompson will always remember her touch and kisses like it was yesterday. He even remembers the day when she was buried. But Mr Thompson’s happiness lies with this woman. So everyday she brings her a rose. Because a rose to him symbolizes love. And a rose is beautiful isn’t it? She loved roses. So he appreciates every single thing about her. Too bad she didn’t live long enough for him to leave happily. I appreciate you coming here sir. He needs some time with people.” And with that, I walk away. And walked towards my home. I’ll take my day off today. Realizing every step I take couldn’t be worse than not having the one you love walk across the intersection into heaven, leaving you behind to deal with life all alone. But what do I know? My experiences with love ended with tragedy. But for that old man, it broke him. I hope I never feel that way. But that isn’t what life has to offer and I'll lose someone important. Just like those times I was close to love but fell into the ditch of relationship fails. This is how emotions are so dangerous, they make us do things we don’t expect even ourselves to do. To go against our words, to forgive someone we shouldn’t, in the end of the day, it was just like a gravestone. Left and forgotten. Unless the ones we love are able to show us they appreciate what we’ve done for them and offer us their time. At this time, the rain didn't feel cold, it felt warm. I felt glad, because the rain felt like an ending, like a new beginning, it covered my tears like sweat. I could finally see my life flash before my eyes. Like a beam of light coming towards me. 

Then it hit me

Blood filled my brain

Will someone remember me like the man’s wife?

I hope so

I really do.

Everything hurts

But the rain was cooling

Was I going to be missed?

The noises

They’re getting quiet

My sight

Fading to black 

My heart

losing rhythm

I guess this was what I wished for

Not to feel emotions

Not to feel anything

Was it worth it?

I don’t know.

I can’t say 

because I was feeling the light

the light of the end of the tunnel 

I was going to be left and forgotten,