#montana moonshine

[lethalchiralium]

“Out out out out out- Come here, you-“

His dog took off from the front porch, Soap snapping angrily at him for snatching a some chicken bones from the basket Simon just brought in. He watched his Collie prance along the yard, jaw settled on the biggest bone he found.

“The wife’s not gonna like that.” Simon muttered as he joined his husband on the porch, holding their daughter with one hand - letting her face the farm with a cute face of delight. She cooed, little hands opening and closing as she watched her dog go nuts in the grass.

Soap frowned, knowing if he tried to retrieve the bone he’d lose a hand, but if he didn’t retrieve the bone he’d lose his head. He wasn’t keen on their wife being angry at him, she had a nice day training her horses and counting the sheep; no need to piss her off. “She’s got bone broth to make.”

“She does.” Simon confirmed, hiking the little baby up on his chest to keep her close to his face. “Babe’s getting hungry.”

“Looks it too.” Soap glanced to his side, spying his daughter beginning to chew on his husband’s finger. “Gotta get that damn bone.”

He chuckled a little. “Shadow!” The black Collie instantly turned his head towards Simon, who pulled his hand from his daughter’s mouth to point to his foot. “Here.”

Soap rolled his eyes, turning and grabbing his baby as the mutt ran and laid down at Simon’s feet. He kissed his daughter’s blonde hair, keeping her dress nice and flat as he moved back into the cabin. The fire was low in the fireplace, Simon’s knives left abandoned on the table beside the now out of reach basket of chicken bones. He’s got an awake baby in his hands, he knows she’s getting hungry by her little grunts and coos that she is going to be pissed soon. Simon walked in and to the basket, tossing the wiped clean bone into it before placing it higher on a bookshelf.

“Miss Claire,” Soap cooed to his baby, her little face looked up to him with a toothless grin. “Mum’ll be home soon. Ye'r nae gonnae starve.”

“You still goin’ with Laswell to town tomorrow?” Simon commented, hand gently patting Shadow before he opened a drawer, grabbing the silverware he had made years ago. “We need more grain for the-“

“Horses, I know.” He sighed, looking over to the blond as he set the table for three. Soap settled in his chair, letting his baby gnaw on his finger. “Ya sure ya dinnae wanna come?”

Simon chuckled a little. “Got Claire to watch. Mum’s gonna want to bathe the babe and the dog tomorrow, she needs hands.”

“More hands make less work.”

“Especially with the damn dog.” A pause, Soap didn’t even have to look to know Simon was staring down their shepherd dog. “Yes you, ya mutt. Go outside and wait for Mum.”

There was the scratching of the dog’s claws as he bounded back outside, barking happily as you walked in, hands dragging down your dirtied dress with a smile. Claire cooed in Soap’s grasp, Simon’s hand gently brushed through his husband’s hair. The dog followed you as you closed the front door, then to your dirt dusted husbands. A kiss to both their lips, then one to the blonde hair of your baby.

“Did ya want me to cook?” Simon murmured as Soap pressed kisses to your cheek, you pulled away from him and your daughter to stretch your arms above your head.

“You’d set the cabin on fire.”

“She’s right, Si-“

“Shut up.”

“Simon, baby, get my dress.” You turned your back, he instantly began to loosen your corset upon your request. “Just wanna feed the baby and go to bed.”

“Gotta eat, love.” Soap’s hand settled on your leg, big smile on his face. “At least you do.”

You nodded, gazing at your happy baby in his lap. “I’ll feed ‘er after Simon burns the house down.” Simon tugged on the strings of your corset, making you wobble on your feet. You whipped your head around to see him smirk. “Don’t be trouble, Simon, it doesn’t end well.”

“‘Course it doesn’t.” He glanced up to you before he pulled your dress down your front - you gasped, Soap suddenly stood to take your baby away. “Trouble is what made that little one, Little Bird.” You were spun around, callused hands picked you up and brought you the few feet to the massive bed in the adjacent room - Simon placed you in the middle of the bed, yanking off your dress and leaving you in your chemise and stockings. Yet, he didn’t pursue what he usually would - instead, he kissed your lips and smiled. “I’ll make dinner. Rest.”

Soap instantly appeared, bouncing around little Claire in her dress that once matched yours. He smirked, gazing at your shocked expression. “Dinna worry, we’ll ravage ya when the babe’s asleep.”

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics that take place in a small town, rural area as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

🏡 I'll Fly Away by @juliusschmidt

(E, 122k, childhood friends) Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not

🏡 Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(M, 113k, lighthouse) As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

🏡 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule / @baroness-elsa

(T, 93k, magical realism) Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

🏡 Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

(NR, 88k, historical) 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

🏡 ocean tides you home (series) by @justanothershadeofblue

(M, 88k, Eroda) Harry is a lonely and depressed popstar who sailed out of his hometown on Eroda years ago to chase his dreams. He comes back to the island only to find his shining childhood best friend Louis just as cold and dreary as the island they grew up on.

🏡 Into the Weeds by kair0sclerosis

(M, 87k, secrets) Following the whispered words of a stranger, Harry Styles finds himself in the small town of Peri Ridge. It’s a town nestled within overgrown forests, raging rivers, and ominous mountains- full of unkept secrets, the aura of freedom, and lost people seeking to be found.

🏡 (Take Me Home) Country Roads by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites

(E, 86k, Northern Exposure au) Louis as the big city doctor, Harry as a natural healer, Niall as a secretive barkeep, Liam and Zayn head over heels for each other but they don't know it and a lot of hurt, comfort and moonshine in between.

🏡 Full Moon Dreaming by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 43k, soulmates) Louis has given up hope of dreaming of a person, resigned to living a life devoid of that kind of all-consuming love for another and receiving the same in return. But when a new neighbour descends on Louis’ beloved Hanson Bay and moves into the other beach house, could all that be about to change?

🏡 The Things We Know To Be Wild by harryanthus_annuus / @harryanthus-annuus

(M, 39k, HTTYD au) Louis is a London zoologist sent by the University of Highlands and Islands to assess the safety of the island of Eroda as part of the Wonder Seekers Project for sustainable tourism.

🏡 Something About Liminal Spaces by @kingsofeverything

(E, 34k, age difference) Searching for inspiration for his latest book, and hoping distance will help heal his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson heads to the village of Piha on the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

🏡 It's the Climb by @lululawrence

(NR, 25k, Hannah Montana au) Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer.

🏡 It's Coming on Christmas by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 23k, girl direction) When Harry Styles gets a call from the caretaker of a bakery in a small town in Vermont, she jumps at the chance to get out of Boston and run her own shop.

🏡 Naked & Proud by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou

(E, 18k, songwriter Louis) In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

🏡 Between the forest and the field by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 16k, meet cute) the one where Harry recently moved to a village and his shy dog picks Louis' dogs to play with at the dog park. A fluffy cottage core AU.

🏡 Won’t Let You Down by noellehenry / @noellehenry-original

(M, 15k, inheritance) In a matter of weeks, Harry’s world turns upside down. Suddenly he’s the owner of a farm and B&B, gets involved in illegal trading of unlabeled bottles and has to deal with his everlasting crush on his sister Gemma’s best friend, who has returned to Woodville…

🏡 You Tilted My Hand by @taggiecb

(G, 12k, photographer Harry) Harry Styles arrives in Avonlea, Prince Edward Island for his first day of a coveted and prestigious summer internship at the Avonlea Chronicle. He's quick to realise that he's out of place in the little band of journalists as he's an art major and they didn't choose Harry to be part of the team!

🏡 Babe, There's Something Lonesome About You by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey

(M, 8k, witch Louis) Louis is a hedge witch, who lives a lonely, solitary life. He's quite happy with his shop in Door County, selling New Age magics to the tourists. 

🏡 Warm Chilling by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow

(G, 7k, neighbors) Louis moves into a cosy cottage in the English countryside with his dog Clifford to look after his great-aunt's animals.

- Rare Pairs -

🏡 Grundy County Incidents (series) by @haztobegood

(T, 10k, Harry/Louis/Nick Grimshaw & Zayn/Liam & Niall/Greg James) 25 years, 7 friends, 3 relationships, 1 rural county

🏡 Something Good (And I Don't Just Mean Your Chips) by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(T, 9k, Harry/Nick Grimshaw) Nick's uncle's will left his seaside cottage, his fishing boat, and all the contents of both to Nick. Coming off the back of months of very poor life choices, a brand new start in a Yorkshire seaside village seems the last remaining option for Nick

[firenati0n]

several sentence sunday <3 :)

hello! Hope you all had a nice week 💛 thank you to thank you to @happiness-of-the-pursuit @anincompletelist @rockyroadkylers @getmehighonmagic @wordsofhoneydew [SO MANY TAGS ARENT WORKING so they're below the cut I am so sorry] for the tags :) :)

Instead of sharing a sweet snippet from city of angels au or a fun snippet from proposal au, I am going to share with you a snippet from an incredibly cursed crack fic i started. It was revealed to me in a nap dream. It's a Hannah Montana the movie au. Popstar!Henry and Cowboy!Alex. It is deeply unhinged. See for yourself. I am so sorry. I promise i am also writing serious good works.

Henry never thought he’d become a global pop superstar. Millions of people screaming his name, hundreds of bras thrown on stage, so many records sold. A face full of glitter and a heart full of dreams. But no one really knows Henry. Not in a way that matters. Herny Mountana belongs to the fans. Henry Fox has to belong to himself, or else he'll vanish. Henry Fox loves country music. He loves open air, blue skies, moonshine. Herny Mountana loves bleach blonde wigs, sparkly cheekbones, jumpsuits, and heeled boots.  They couldn’t be more different. But he knows the price he has to pay. The price he pays every day for fame, for fans, for his goals.  No time to ruminate. He has a concert to play. 

yes his name is herny mountana. no it is not a typo. yes his disguise is literally just the fuck ass rwrb movie wig. yes he whips it off dramatically in the Big Reveal only to show the exact same hair.

xoxo roop

+ tags below the cut <3 and open tag as always :)

@ninzied @dumbpeachjuice @saturntheday  @inexplicablymine  @sherryvalli  @littlemisskittentoes  @bigassbowlingballhead @heybuddy-drabbles  @priincebutt  @theprinceandagcd  @tintagel-or-cockleshells  @cricketnationrise  @tailsbeth-writes  @lizzie-bennetdarcy  @myheartalivewrites  @onward--upward  @celeritas2997 @affectionatelyrs @tinyarmedtrex  @14carrotghoul  @rmd-writes  @anchoredarchangel  @gay-flyboys   @cultofsappho @largepeachicedtea @gayrootvegetable @ships-to-sail @orchidscript @cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes @suseagull04 @sparklepocalypse @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @junebugclaremontdiaz @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @welcometololaland @magicandarchery @onthewaytosomewhere @whimsymanaged

[say-hwaet]

That's the Way it Is

Chapter: Lovers of Fire and Moonshine, Part II Previous Chapter: Nine Summary: Arthur deals with the aftermath of your surprising kiss, remembering the "quiet time" he had with Lenny, and getting an earful of advice from Hosea… Warnings: Language, Violence, Drinking Word Count: ~8,100

Now that your back is turned, Arthur lets himself lift his eyes and watch you go. Your skirt is muddied and wet from traipsing in the water, your hair a mess from being unconscious on the ground. For a moment, he had thought that was it. Your headache so great, you died. He finished off the remaining raiders to hurry to your side, patting your face and calling your name, until you woke up.

And boy, what a surprise it was, when you slipped your hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

He had thought that you had come to your senses. That the light went on in your mind and you were finally remembering. Why else would you kiss him after a battle? It had to be that you recognized him. Remember him as your husband.

But then you had to go on and mention it was because of the memory you woke up from. The kiss you gave him on that cliff after he saved you from a near-death experience.

He lied to you when you asked if he remembered what it was, what he was going to say all those years ago.

But what was he to do? Just come out and say, “I was gonna tell you that I had a woman and kid waitin’ for me. It weren’t right to kiss you back.” Hm? Was he?

No. No, he was not about to do that.

And here he is again, back to where he started. Caught in between truth and lie. And letting you go when he wants you to stay.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, Arthur! You ride with me.”

Arthur doesn’t feel like riding with Dutch. He would much rather be by himself right now. Just find a secluded spot, take out his journal, and write the things that he wishes he should have done or said in real life before the moment expired.

The taste of you still lingers on his lips. Mint leaves and canned strawberries. Two things that you’ve always preferred over anything else, but you are oblivious. He knows you more than you know yourself.

And that’s his trouble.

He whistles for Montana, who comes trotting over as Dutch mounts The Count. And they ride off, going off the road.

“Have a bit of trouble back there, Arthur?”

This is quite the shift from singing praises just a moment ago. Arthur watches Dutch as he rides beside him with a suspicious gaze. “What you mean?”

Dutch wears a soft grin, his eyelids soft as he lifts his chin. “It just seemed like you took your time taking care of those men.”

“We handled it just fine, Dutch. Just some raiders.”

“Oh? Not Braithewaites?”

“No, looks like the raiders were buyin’ it from ‘em.”

Dutch rolls his shoulders as they cross a small body of water. “Well, I guess if Archibald didn’t ask too many questions about it, neither should we. These folks are just backward hicks from the middle of nowhere, they’re fools to deputize us.”

“You seem to be enjoyin’ it.”

Dutch senses the dig and scoffs. “Well, Arthur, I ain’t the one that’s really enjoyin’ themselves, am I? Seems like you’ve been gettin’ a bit too comfortable around these parts.”

Arthur's jaw tightens, his grip on the reins growing firmer. Dutch always had a way with words, poking where it hurt the most. But if he isn’t about to let him have his way this time. “I don’t like bein’ here any more than you do.”

“That isn’t what I mean. Ain’t nobody like it here.”

Arthur’s eyes narrow. “What’re you talkin’ about, then?”

“Kit.”

Arthur sighs, rolling his eyes. “I already told you, Dutch, I ain’t—”

Dutch cuts him off, speaking in an accusatory tone. “I see you watchin’ her, followin’ her, you sure she isn’t distractin’ you? Maybe if she wasn’t over there, you would have handled the raiders much more easily.”

Arthur doesn’t acknowledge that accusation. “You just said she did a good job. You asked her to come along.”

“Yes, I did. Might as well use her while she’s here, right?”

Arthur doesn’t appreciate that word. Use. Like as if you were disposable, but he doesn’t acknowledge that, either. “She needs to recover, she—she ain’t ready.”

“And you get to make that call? Do you own her or somethin’, Arthur?”

Arthur furrows his brow. “Of course not.”

“Good. ‘Cause these two families, I think we can play both sides, and we are going to need everyone to do their part. Kitka, especially.”

But we can’t forget the favorite. “Micah, too?”

Dutch gives Arthur a sideways glance. “Yes, including Micah. You know as well as I do, that he ain’t the last to step up.”

He ain’t the first, neither , Arthur thinks. But he isn’t about to say that out loud.

***

“They got Micah!”

“Who’s got him?!”

“The Sheriff in Strawberry…!”

Arthur stands by Dutch. He was just in the middle of receiving another lecture about bucking up and having the leader’s back when the young man came riding up into camp. They had just found Horseshoe Overlook, and these past several days have been sluggish. Quiet, yes, but also sluggish.

“There’s talkin’ of hangin’ him!” Lenny adds, his eyes white with fear and worry.

Arthur can’t hide the smile on his face. “Here’s hopin’.”

And Dutch doesn’t hesitate to reprove him. “Arthur! If you were in the same situation, he’d go rescue you.”

“I doubt that.”

For the last six months, Micah has been all talk and flattery. Sure, he knows how to use a gun and can be a great ally when it suits him, but everything else about him just spews sick and twisted. Maybe he stumbled upon the gang too early, and bypassed the O’Driscolls, as they seem to be a better match made in hell.

“Arthur,” Dutch says, gesturing to Montana. “Go take Lenny into town, get him a drink, and then go get Micah.” And after a moment, Dutch rests a hand on his shoulder. “You could probably use one too, for…you know…”

Yes, he does know, every day without your presence is a reminder of what he failed to do.

He doesn’t say anything more, but motions for Lenny to follow. He hoists himself upon Montana and they both ride towards Valentine.

Lenny watches Arthur closely, everyone has been careful around him since the events in Blackwater. The cold from Colter didn’t help things either, and Arthur doesn’t doubt that everyone would rather soon forget about all of it.

But he can’t.

“You doin’ okay, Arthur?”

Him? Arthur isn’t blind to the fact that Lenny was sweet on Jenny. Sure, they never went beyond the small flirtation, but it really could have been something. You kept telling Arthur that you wanted to help them get together.

“I want them to have what we have,” you said, your whispered breath tickling his skin.

Arthur’s grip tightens on the reins, his chin tucked into his jacket.

“Arthur?” Lenny asks.

“I’m fine, Lenny.” He looks ahead as they reach the main road. “Let’s just…get you a drink. You can calm your nerves a bit, don’t think about Micah right now.”

Lenny shakes his head. “Micah, I swear, he was lookin’ for trouble.”

As they trot into the muddy streets of Valentine, the town buzzes with the usual chatter and clatter. The sky, a palette of dusky pinks and deep blues, stretches overhead, giving off a sense of tranquility that seems almost contradictory to Arthur’s stormy heart. He hitches Montana outside Smithfield's Saloon and waits for Lenny to follow.

They both walk up the steps and Arthur swings the saloon doors open, taking in the smell of cigar smoke and whiskey, and hearing the piano play a bouncy tune. Some working women look him up and down, nearly licking their lips, but he doesn’t even glance their way. His heart's too wrapped up in thoughts of you, as if you were a ghost haunting every corner of his vision. After all, you’d been haunting him in the winds of Colter for the past couple of weeks. 

Inside, the wooden floor creaks under their heavy boots, and the barkeeper, a middle-aged man with a thick mustache and a gruff voice, nods at them. “What can I get you, folks?”

Arthur leans on the counter and Lenny mirrors his movements. “A couple of beers, please.”

The bartender nods and gets right to it.

“Just one drink, right, Arthur?”

Arthur nods absentmindedly, his mind going elsewhere. Everything still feels fresh in his mind and he worries that he will never be free of it. Free from loving only long enough to feel pain.

Mary.

Eliza.

Now you.

And each time, aside from Mary, it was kept a secret. He felt that maybe, if no one knew about it, it couldn’t be used against you both. No one could threaten to destroy it, or harm you. It was the mere association with Arthur that got Eliza killed, even in her cabin in the middle of nowhere. And his distance couldn’t protect her. Or his son. 

And his closeness couldn’t protect you.

But then he saw you. Right there in the open street, just after scratching his face.

And you couldn’t recognize him.

Was it some kind of sick joke? Just someone pretending to be you? No, not when you sounded like that, looked like that, felt like that. He’d know you like he’d know his own heartbeat, irregular as it sometimes is. It felt like the world slipped sideways, like one of those dreams where you can’t quite grasp what’s real and what’s not. But the pain in his chest was real enough, sharp and piercing. And it tore him in pieces when he had to bring himself to walk away.

The large glass of beer slides into Arthur’s arm as it rests on the counter, startling him from his thoughts.

Lenny has already picked up his and lifts it towards Arthur. “Cheers, Arthur!”

Arthur forces a smile and they clink glasses before he brings it to his lips and drinks.

And drinks.

And drinks.

***

“LENNNNAYYYYY!!!!”

Arthur struggles to find his footing as he wanders through the saloon. For some damned reason, he has lost track of his pal, his comrade, and no matter how many times he calls his name, that damned boy won’t answer.

Hell.

The world seems to spin a little, his vision distorted by colors of gold and purple, he feels warm and fuzzy, like a peach.

Arthur likes peaches. They kinda remind him of—

He hears an odd sound as he walks up the stairs, his large hand trying to grip onto the railing. Reaching the top and walking the balcony, he sees a crazy young man trying to balance a glass on his head.

Ynnel?? Wait, no. Lenny! It’s Lenny!

“Lenny, mah boah…!!!”

Arthur tries to quicken his steps, nearly shoving a woman who gasps at his forwardness, though it almost appears like it isn’t unwarranted.

But, of course, Arthur could care less.

He reaches the boy and takes hold of the railing. “What. Are. You. Doin’?”

Lenny’s cheeks are ruddy, a grin on his face. “I don’t—” He fumbles with the glass and it falls off of his head onto any innocent folks down below. Lenny lets out a hiccupped chortle, looking at Arthur with the goofiest face he has ever seen.

Somehow, there is another beer in Arthur’s hand. Well, he isn’t about to complain. He brings it to his lips and lets the liquid sour down his throat, it filling his belly with a sloshing sound that is almost as sickening as it is satisfying. He smacks his lips, lets out a deep sigh, and leans over the railing.

Lenny leans as well, swaying from side to side as though he were dancing. This is hilarious, and Arthur cackles loudly.

“Well, why ain’t you never married?” Lenny asks suddenly.

And Arthur, drunken Arthur, is quickly reminded of his failed attempts at marriage and the one success he managed. He isn’t about to tell Lenny that he is, in fact, married. The memory has begun to be buried. Buried deep, too deep, and tangled up in a mess of sorrow and lost dreams. He shakes his head instead, taking another swig from the bottle that warms his insides but does little to chase away the chill of his truths. “I reckon marriage ain’t for everyone,” he slurs.

“Just say no one would have ya, Arthur! Be honest with yourself…!” Lenny laughs and takes another drink.

Arthur finds it comical. Hysterical. If only he could have been as successful as an outlaw just as successful he was in keeping his marriage a secret, he’d be better off. He wouldn’t be here, drunk as a skunk, pining for a woman who acts like he is a complete stranger.

Well, If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

So he picks up another bottle and drinks.

And drinks.

And drinks.

***

“Eugh…” Arthur feels as though his head is going to explode. Every heartbeat sends a throbbing pulse through his skull, his stomach twisting and turning. He brings a hand to rub the ache behind his eyes, the dull throbbing piercing through his irises. 

He did it. He got drunk. Severely drunk.

He rolls onto his side, opening his eyes to the brightness of day. “You moron, Morgan,” he groans. And he struggles to get up. If he thought lying down was awful, standing up is worse. He feels it in his stomach and before he can get the chance, he keels over and vomits.

And as he bends over, he sees a fleck of gold come out from under his shirt and it hangs in front of him.

He wipes his mouth, wishing he had some water to wash it down with, but his eyes are drawn to the gold chain…and what it holds. 

His heart sinks and he takes between his fingers the ring that he had put on that chain just weeks ago.

He didn’t want it to be on his finger. Not when it was too risky. People wouldn’t pay any mind to you if you were wearing one, it’s your mother’s, but him? Dutch and the rest of them would surely figure it out.

He was planning on putting it on, as soon as he met up with you again. With only your few possessions and love for each other, that was going to be your lives from then on.

He looks at the ring for a bit longer, then slips the chain back under his shirt, hiding it close to his heart where it belongs. The weight of the gold feels heavy against his chest, a constant reminder of what he’s lost—and what secrets he must keep even from those closest to him.

Arthur staggers to his feet, steadying himself against the rough bark of a nearby tree, and looks out onto the horizon.

That was you. He knows it deep in his soul, and far be it from him to let you be lost to him ever again.

Turning, carefully, he makes his way back to Valentine, where Montana waits for him.

He’s got a lot of ground to cover.

***

“Arthur!” Hosea sees him coming and waves him over as he stands by the wagon full of moonshine. It has been a couple of days since the destruction of the stills, and there’s no doubt in Arthur’s mind that Hosea has an idea.

Arthur salutes the man, speaking in a low tone. “Hosea…”

Hosea’s smile doesn’t falter and he turns to gesture to the wagon behind him. The bottles glisten as they catch the light that peaks through the trees, giving off the illusion that the cargo is more precious than it ought to be. “What do you think?”

Arthur manages a smirk and chuckles softly at his surrogate father’s excitement. “I think you got a lotta moonshine on your hands.”

“Oh yes, we do. And I’ve been coming up with something. A plan!” Hosea then rests a hand on the side of the wagon and looks back at Arthur, a certain gleam in his eye.  “For both of you.”

“Both of who?” Arthur blinks. 

And Hosea, good ol’ cunning Hosea, casually shrugs and lifts his eyes upward. “Oh, I don’t know, someone with a knack for performances.”

And then Arthur understands. He means you. Of course, it would be you. But Arthur has yet to tell him about what happened back at the still. Against the wall of a shanty. He takes a deep breath and exhales, speaking quieter and taking another step toward him. “Hosea…”

He must see it in Arthur’s face, for he lowers his hand and raises his brow in concern. “What’s it, Arthur?”

“Somethin’ happened…”

Hosea searches his son’s face. “What? What’s wrong?”

Arthur rubs the back of his neck, recalling the feeling of your hand there, and the pressure you applied to bring him close. “She kissed me, Hosea.”

It takes but only a moment for it to register, for his eyes brighten and his smile returns. “Does that mean she…?”

Arthur shakes his head, quickly dispelling any hope that Hosea just had. “No. She doesn’t know.”

But this will not do. Hosea’s brow lowers and his gaze intensifies as he crosses his arms. “Arthur, you need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You know why I can’t.”

Hosea clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “No, I really don’t. It seems that you are making something out of nothing.”

But he does have cause. He knows he does. Hosea hasn’t seen it happen. He doesn’t see how the light goes out of your eyes, how your face contorts in pain. How tense you become. He takes another step toward Hosea. “This last spell she had, this last one knocked her out for a few minutes.”

“Okay? Was she in any danger?” Hosea’s tone indicates he’s hardly bothered by it, as though Arthur is just making up another excuse. Maybe he overestimates your resiliency. Maybe Hosea has too high of expectations for you. Or maybe he’s questioning Arthur’s own capabilities? 

Well, he wants to reassure Hosea that he protected her this time. “I kept her safe.”

Hosea swings an arm in Arthur’s direction. “Well, there you go, then.”

He baited him, and he felt for it. Hosea has always been like that. A sly fox, leading the conversation even when you might think it was your idea and by your lead all along. “Hosea—”

Hosea cuts him off, pointing a finger in his direction. “Maybe if you tell her, you can save her from any pain. If only you’d just spare her the trouble of figuring it out on her own!”

Arthur shakes his head. “It ain’t that simple.”

But Hosea is persistent, nodding his head and being more assertive in his tone. “It is. Tell her.”

Arthur feels the tightness in his chest, an aching weight on his shoulders that makes them droop. He lowers his head, most of his face being shielded by his hat. “I can’t.”

There is a pause, with nothing but the sound of birds warbling their afternoon songs. The high-pitched sound of bugs could almost make the earth vibrate. But Arthur wouldn’t notice. He feels like he is already sinking. Hosea exhales and runs a hand over his face. “Arthur, you’re just as stubborn as they come.” He clicks his tongue and rests his hand on his hip. “Why won’t you tell her?”

Arthur speaks it so softly, Hosea can barely hear it. “I can’t lose her again.”

But it reaches his ears and, dissatisfied, he shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hosea, imagine if she did know. If she did remember that somethin’ happened between us.” He watches for Hosea’s reaction to those words. They both know the truth, and share suspicions of what happened in Blackwater. So much has happened, and things are far from over. You are still in danger, regardless of what you know and don’t know. Arthur stands beside Hosea now at the wagon and leans his body into it. He looks around them, letting his eyes follow the dirt path that leads to the camp. He thinks about everyone there. The lives that rely on him. The people he cares about.  “Things are changin’, times are changin’. Our lives ain’t the same since Blackwater. Anythin’ could happen. Pinkertons. The law. Even whatever this...” He gestures to himself, indicating his own giants he wrestles with. “…this thing is. If I just let things go, if I just let things be, then—”

Hosea places a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, trying to speak the truth in a way so Arthur can hear him. “This isn’t about being some martyr to lost love, Arthur. You won’t be the only one suffering.”

But Arthur doesn’t care about himself. He has a purpose for burying his pain. “You’re wrong. She won’t be sufferin’.”

Hosea removes his hand, briefly throwing it in the air before clapping his leg in frustration. “She already is suffering! You don’t see the agony in her face? She knows! Deep down she knows, and wants to remember! She knows something is going on and we’re not telling her!” He points at Arthur again. “You’re not telling her!” His raised voice echoes into the trees and they both breathe sharply. If they can manage anything right now, it is to be discreet. Hosea lowers his head, letting out a sigh slowly. “What would you rather have? You tell her now and get it out in the open, or she finds out after months of headaches to only wonder why you never told her?”

That is an interesting question. What would he rather have? If he could tell her now, how would he do it? What would he say? Whatever he chooses, it can’t be like this. “Times not right, we’re still settlin’ into camp—”

Hosea interjects with a harsh truth, his voice calm, but sharp. “Arthur, there comes a time when you stop making excuses and just do it.”

And suddenly, Arthur hears a soft voice, pouring out like honey, making his hairs stand on end. “Do what?”

Arthur and Hosea quickly turn to see you, in your dark pants and oriole-feathered hat, watching them curiously. Arthur had forgotten that Hosea called you here and he feels the color run from his face. Did you hear all of that? You don’t look like you have, but stealth and masking are your strong suits. You could have been right behind him and he wouldn’t have noticed. 

Hosea grins a toothy smile and claps Arthur’s shoulder. “Just—playing dress up!” He gestures to the stunned outlaw, giving him a gentle shake.  “Arthur, here, see, doesn’t like to pretend…” There is a subtle dig with the word pretend , but Arthur pretends to not notice.

You arch your perfectly shaped brow and give them both a playful smirk. “He doesn’t?” You can't help but tease, almost as if you know exactly what Arthur's response will be.

And Arthur answers flatly. “No, I don’t.”

You continue to walk over to them, smiling and still barefooted. “What are we dressing up for?”

Hosea lets out a warm chuckle and spreads his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. “I love your attitude, young lady! I knew that I felt the ache of your absence for a lot of reasons!”

You slow your pace and come to a halt beside Hosea, placing a hand on your hip in a gesture of casual confidence. Arthur's eyes immediately drift towards the curve of your body, tracing the alluring silhouette created by your tight-fitting jeans. The cotton hugs your curves in all the right places, accentuating your feminine figure and drawing his attention. A faint smile plays at the corners of his mouth as he takes in the sight before him, though it quickly disappears when your hazel eyes glance in his direction before addressing Hosea. “What, you had no one else to be the entertainment around here?”

“Of course not, but you could barely juggle to save your life.”

You laugh. “I know.” And you switch to a calm demeanor, speaking almost in a strictly business sort of way. “What are we doing?”

And so, without no further delay, Hosea begins to debrief you both on his plan. “Advertising, my dear! Advertising!” He gestures to the wagon of moonshine. “We’re going to waltz right up to the Braithewaites and see if we can’t be rewarded for doing the neighborly thing of returning it to them. What do you say?”

You lift a brow and suppress a chortle. “We’re dressing up for that?”

“Maybe not this, necessarily, but we are coming before southern aristocracy!”

You look down at your pants, a pensive look on your face. “Well, I suppose I can change into a nice skirt…”

“That’s my girl! Go on and change, and meet us back here.”

“Alright.” And with that, you turn to walk away. 

Once you’re out of earshot, Hosea speaks, but still with his voice lowered. “You owe me for this, Arthur.”

“Thank you, Hosea,” Arthur exhales. 

But his gratitude nearly diminishes when he feels Hosea’s index finger in his chest, it almost feeling like a tip of a blade. “And you will tell her.”

Arthur swallows. “Once I—once I can figure out what to say.”

Hosea looks almost irritated, like a parent too tired to continue disciplining his delinquent child. “I know words don’t always come naturally for you, Arthur, but with her, it never was difficult.”

Arthur lowers his head. Hosea is right. You and him used to talk often and willingly, but you weren’t under such strain. He wasn’t fighting his own fears and reservations in an effort to protect you. He speaks quietly, his eyes not lifting once to look up. “Not anymore.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Hosea’s question nearly catches Arthur off guard. He was expecting some empathy, but it is clear that Hosea isn’t having it this time. ”Remember what I told you.”

Arthur remembers, it’s been playing in the back of his mind since their conversation at Emerald Ranch. To leave; to build a life for himself and get you out. “I know.”

“I meant it! And you’re right, things are changing; things are taking a turn for the worse. I’ve been telling Abigail the same thing—”

This is surprising. “Abigail?”

“Yes! You think I want to see her and her son killed? For some dreams that don’t ever seem to be realized? She needs to think about her son. Whether or not John decides to join them is his choice. Maybe…maybe if they leave that might motivate him as well. For now, my concern is for them.”

“What about everyone else?”

“They are old enough to make their own choices. But Abigail is scared. Aside from you, and Kit, she’s got no one really to help her. I know how you feel about John, I know you have some anger towards him. You were young once. You didn’t always make the right choices.” And after a moment of thought, Hosea decides to add, “Mary was one of those choices.”

Arthur feels himself bristle at this. He knows he’s made mistakes, but it doesn’t help any to bring them up. “What, you think I should have stayed with her?”

“Of course not! I just wish you didn’t have to go through that in the first place.”

There is a brief pause, filled with unspoken thoughts. “Did you always think that Kit and I would end up together?”

Hosea tilts his head and shakes it slowly. “Didn’t expect it at all, doesn’t mean that I never hoped for it. It’s just that you were the loner type for quite a while.”

He was. But he had a reason. When he found the two crosses that marked the graves of his woman and child, he didn’t really feel like living. “I guess…things don’t always happen as you predicted them to.”

“No, they certainly don’t,” Hosea responds with conviction, his sharp tone chastising Arthur once again. “You hit the nail on the head, Arthur,” he continues, driving his point home. "Which is why you need to gather the courage you're always using in those gunfights." There is a brief pause as Hosea studies Arthur's face, searching for any sign of understanding or compliance. "I mean it," he adds firmly.

Finally, after a moment of hesitation, Arthur nods in agreement. “Alright.”

There is movement at the corner of Arthur’s eye and he turns to see you return. You are wearing a blue pinstripe skirt that goes nicely with the white button-up and dark vest you were already wearing. And it doesn’t hurt your figure, either. Anything you wear, even the simplest of garbs, makes Arthur feel weak in the knees.

Hosea resumes his energetic persona, greeting you with great elation. “Ah, look! Perfect!”

You bashfully lower your gaze, brushing off invisible dirt from your skirt. “I know it’s not that…fancy, Hosea…”

But Hosea just shakes his head dismissively. “We’re not looking for fancy, we’re looking for clean and neat! And maybe then they won’t think we’re the scum at the bottom of their shoe.” He lets out a short laugh and turns to face the wagon. “Alright, let’s get on this wagon. Arthur, you drive.”

“You Shoah?” Arthur asks.

“Of course! And the lady can sit up there with you. I’ll sit in the back.” Hosea replies, a warm smile spreading across his wrinkled face.

You come closer, your brow lifted in concern and empathy as your voice conveys great selflessness. “Oh, Hosea, the back can be so uncomfortable. Please, let me—”

But Hosea interrupts with a dismissive wave of his hand before lifting himself to the back of the wagon with a grunt. “No, don’t you worry about me,” he insists. “I’m going to go ahead and sit back here and regale you all with what I've learned about these Braithewaites…” He lets out a mischievous chuckle, his eyes sparkling with ideas not fully spun yet.

Arthur, after hesitating, goes over to help you up onto the wagon. Offering a hand, you look into his eyes and take it. A sense of relief washes over him, glad that you aren’t rejecting his aid. He feels the softness of your hand in his, and resists the temptation to hold onto it just a little while longer. 

Climbing onto the seat, you settle next to Arthur, the wood and leather creaking under your combined weight. With a gentle flick of the reins, the wagon begins to roll forward, the wheels carving tracks into the soft mud of the trail. You pull your skirt neatly around your knees and look ahead, not starting any conversation. He decides to focus on the road, listening to the gentle clicking of the moonshine bottles, careful not to drive too fast, or too slow.

You speak suddenly, almost making Arthur jump in his seat. “So, Hosea, you were saying?”

Hosea clears his throat. “Well, I mentioned the horses to Dutch, and he is going to send John to look into it…In the meantime, we will make a formal introduction and get into their good graces so we can play both sides…All I keep hearing is that they hate each other so much they can’t see past it.”

Arthur nods. The past three days he’s been busy keeping up with two of them in particular, a Braithewaite girl and a Gray boy. Two young lovers, forbidden from one another, like a watered-down version of Romeo and Juliet. He can empathize with their plight, to a degree, given the secrecy and keeping their heads down, which is probably why he’s been willing to help them. The fools.

It seems that fate always has a stick where the sun doesn’t shine, for it always finds a way to prick at Arthur where it hurts the most.

Hosea continues on thoughtfully. “I’m sure there’s money in all this somewhere, if we can only get in the middle of it.”

***

Well, Master Braithewaite turned out to be Mrs. Catherine Braithewaite. A crotchety old woman with a southern drawl that exudes bitter molasses. With your sweet-appearing demeanor and Hosea’s quick tongue, you all managed to drive away with some cash and the moonshine. Upon her order, Arthur is to drive the wagon to Rhodes, to deliver the moonshine to the saloon and give it away. That’s right, for free.

Arthur sees Rhodes in the distance, and his thoughts are interrupted by Hosea’s mischievous chuckle. Arthur looks briefly over his shoulder, to see Hosea pulling something out of a canvas sack.

It is an old hat.

“Well, my dear, this is where we put those skills of yours to use.” And he holds the hat out to you. “You are going to be my poor stepchild, who owes me a great debt after gambling our family fortune.”

Arthur looks over at you to see your eyes sparkle, taking the hat and replacing the one on your head with it.

“And Arthur—”

Arthur shakes his head quickly. “No, not me.”

“You are just going to be the mute driver. Killed your mother for making you angry. You aren’t good for much else but driving the wagon.”

Arthur hears you chuckle and just as he looks back at you, you straighten up and bite your lower lip. The corners of your mouth turn up ever so slightly, betraying the hint of a smile as you adjust the hat on your head. The ruse is simple, pitiable yet convincing. Arthur can see by the look in your eyes that you already know how to play the part; life itself being an extended performance.

You look down at your hands, your voice soft but full of energy. “I can already imagine them being stained with cards. Chips flying everywhere as I flip a table in anguish.”

Arthur snorts, shaking his head. “You sure do have a wild imagination, Kit." His voice carries a mix of amusement and admiration, the roughness softened momentarily by the gentle tease. "Just make sure you don't actually start throwin' things around in there."

And you reply with a little quip of your own. “Just don’t give me any dynamite, and we will be just fine.”

As the wagon rolls down the dusty road to Rhodes, the tension in the air shifts subtly. And Arthur knows that he will have to remain silent until they are out of town again. He’s nearly forgotten about the badge on his shirt, and quickly takes it off and tucks it in his satchel before they pass the first building that leads into town.

Turning down the street, he pulls up behind the saloon.

“Show time,” Hosea whispers, and gets off the wagon. “Why, Fatima! You best put your back into it today and bring that case with you!” he barks at you, already playing the evil stepfather role quite well.

Arthur watches you, as you step down from the wagon with a practiced slump, your shoulders rounded and head bowed, embodying the downtrodden, penniless stepdaughter to perfection. Arthur’s eyes scan the bustling streets of Rhodes, taking in the townsfolk who pause to watch the new arrivals with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

You lift the heavy crate with a surprising ease, and Arthur lifts his brow. Your eyes lift to meet his and you put on a grin before switching it to a sour expression as she speaks noticeably slower to him. “Now, you stay there, Fenton! Don’t you leave this here spot until we come right back!”

He merely grumbles. And you continue with your task of lifting the crate and following Hosea.

Arthur continues to watch you two as you approach the saloon from the back. Two men stand outside, looking bored out of their minds.

Hosea waves over to them. “Gentlemen, gentlemen! Quite the town you got here, we just moved in from up north!”

The men just stare and as their eyes move to you, they seem to appear more interested. Arthur feels himself tense up, watching their gazes linger just a little too long for his liking.

One of the men replies, his eyes not leaving you. “Hey…”

Hosea continues. “Hello…! My name is Melvin, and this is my stepdaughter Fatima. Don’t pay her no mind, she’s quite worthless, bled my family dry. But if it weren’t for her mother, I’d have cast her out ages ago.” He barely pauses for breath, his fast tongue almost throwing the men off guard. “How’d you boys like a couple of bucks?” He pulls out some money from his pocket and holds out the cash to them. “We are into advertising, which is to ensure that people buy the correct things. And we would like to advertise to the good patrons in there.”

The men cast glances at each other, shifting on their feet with unease. “I don’t know…”

But then you step forward, putting on a pathetic expression, your words coming out soft and juvenile. “Please, sirs, we don’t mean no trouble. Just need to get this crate inside and talk to those fine folks in there. Mother’s been ailing something fierce and we need every penny we can scrape together.” You lower your face and even from where Arthur sits, he can se a solitary tear stream down your cheek. “It’s my fault we have no money.”

Your plea, layered with a thick layer of innocence and desperation, seems to soften one of the men. One scratches his head, looking from Hosea to you, his expression wavering. "Well, alright then.” And taking the money from Hosea, they both begin to walk away, eager to spend their new dollar. “Just quick-like, ya hear?"

Hosea nods enthusiastically, clapping the man on the shoulder. "You have my word, sir. Quick as a wink," he promises, ushering you forward with the crate.

Once the door closes behind you, the air is left with silence. Arthur shifts in the wagon seat, carefully watching for anything that might seem odd or unnerving. He may be playing as the dumb idiot, but he isn’t going to act like one, especially if the situation demands something strong and quick on the draw.

Several minutes go by before the sound of music erupts from within the saloon.

He looks up and through the window, he can see you behind the bar, pouring drinks for men that begin to surround you. You perform little tricks as you do so, from bending backward to pour into a glass, to flipping a bottle elegantly from hand to hand. Your movements are fluid, mesmerizing the crowd with every delicate yet confident motion. Amidst the chaos of laughter and drunken banter, Arthur can't help but marvel at how you can make even the mundane act of serving drinks look like a dance.

All he cares about is that you are safe, managing deftly within the lion’s den. The crowd’s attention clings to you, their eyes caught up in the contortion of your arms, the swift flick of your wrists. Even from a distance, Arthur watches anxiously, noting every man who steps too close or looks too long at you.

It seems as though time passes by quickly, for it is already dark and the noise inside turns into a raucous. He hears glasses break, whoops and hollers, but he still finds you behind the bar, serving drinks like there is no tomorrow.

That’s when he hears another wagon pull up.

Turning, he sees several men, in old army hats and getup, leap off the wagon and hurry into the saloon. He instantly recognizes them.

Lemoyne Raiders. And they are not happy.

He has to get you and Hosea out of there before everything goes to hell. Leaping down from the wagon, he reaches for his rifle. Already armed with his volcanic pistols, he makes quick steps as he enters the saloon from the back.

He hears a deep voice call out from within the saloon. “You!”

And Hosea’s meek reply. “Me?”

“You’re the bastards who stole the liquor we was gonna buy…!”

Hosea quickly tries to settle the situation. “Gentlemen, we are merely in advertising. Have a drink!”

But it doesn’t work. Just as Arthur reaches the back opening to the bar, he hears the first gunshot.

He sees you duck, a quick scream escaping your lips and he crouches down right beside you. “Kit…!” You look up to find him and he hands you one of his pistols. “I saw them ride up. They ain’t too happy with us.”

You almost chuckle at that, checking the ammo in his gun. “You think?”

A gunfight ensues, patrons and cowards alike trying to flee the drunken bash while the Lemoyne raiders try to act on their revenge. Arthur gets up long enough to take down several of them in a matter of seconds, a skill that he is known for.

Despite the ringing in his ears, Arthur moves like a shadow, his figure etched against the dim lantern lights that start to swing overhead.

He turns to see you take a shot, your hand, though unfamiliar with his weapon, aims with dead accuracy. Even so, he knows your movements by heart—every duck, weave, and shot feels like a dance you’ve both rehearsed for years.

“Sure wish I had my sawed off,” you grumble. “Would be nice to see this place burn a little.”

Your brazenness is coming out in bursts. Arthur always knew you to have a playful obsession with fire, you pyromaniac, but it seems to become more prominent as you are placed in more dangerous situations.

“There’ll be time for that,” Arthur comments, and he finds an opening to get out of cover. He leaps over the counter and turns back to you. “We gotta get out of here!”

You nod and reach for him. Taking your arms, he helps you over the counter. Then suddenly, your eyes look up behind him and you point. “Arthur…!”

Turning, he sees a Lemoyne raider descending down the stairs, taking aim at him. He quickly draws, shooting the man down and he falls over the banister.

Arthur’s relief is momentary before he shifts his focus back to you, scanning your body for any injuries with a furrowed brow. “You still alright, Kit?”

You nod, brushing off dust and debris from your clothes, an attempt to regain some composure. “Never better,” you declare, though your voice trembles with an excitement. “We need to find Hosea.”

Right. It’s best that you don’t leave him behind. Instinctively taking your hand, Arthur leads you up the stairs, looking frantically for the onery man.

And just as he reaches the top of the stairs, he spots him, struggling in the grip of another raider.

Arthur doesn't hesitate. He pulls you along, his grip on your hand firm as his other hand reaches for his gun once more. As you approach, he lets go of your hand and moves with that same predatory grace that always seems to surge forth in these moments of dire need.

The raider holding Hosea is laughing, his teeth yellowed and nearly rotten. “I’ll show you for stealin’ our liquor!!!”

And with a simple click, Arthur pulls the trigger. The raider's laughter abruptly ends as he crumples to the ground, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. Hosea gasps for air, pushing the lifeless body off him with a shake of his head.

Arthur rushes over, extending a hand to help Hosea up. "You alright, old man?" he teases, pulling him to his feet and patting him on the back.

“It’s never the wrong time for jokes with you, is it, Arthur?” he gasps, rubbing his neck for a moment before continuing the escape.

You three hurry out through the french doors to the balcony. The air is nice and cool compared to the stuffiness inside the saloon. Rushing over eaning against the railing, you spot the wagon below.

“I love heights, don’t you?” you murmur enthusiastically, a wry smile tugging at the corner of your mouth despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Arthur glances at you with a smirk, the kind that softens his rugged features momentarily. "Yeah, just as much as I love getting shot at," he retorts. His eyes scan down the street and he spots more raiders coming. He turns to Hosea. “You first, old man!”

And Hosea, not waiting for another prompting, takes the leap of faith and lands in the wagon.

Arthur then turns to you. “Ladies, first!”

And the look you give him nearly sends his heart to his throat. A flirtatious glance with half-lidded eyes as you lift your chin. “Such a gentleman…” You then climb over the railing, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You glance back at Arthur whose eyes are fixed on you, filled with a fierce protectiveness, despite his knowledge that you could do this in your sleep if you wanted.

“Could we speed this up?” Hosea calls worriedly. “We’ve got company!”

You let go and fall gracefully to the ground, rolling to break your fall. You rise quickly to your feet and you climb up the wagon and take the reins. “C’mon, Fenton! Don’t want to keep Mama waiting!”

Arthur chuckles to himself, admiring your audacity even in the face of danger. He climbs down with a practiced ease, landing next to the wagon with a thud that sends a cloud of dust swirling around his boots. He leaps up beside you, grabbing the seat just as you crack the reins. The horses quickly turn around and gallop down the street, nearly missing a man walking along the fence line.

But of course, this commences the chase, as some mounted Lemoyne Raiders ride after you.

Arthur curses under his breath. Readying his rifle as you continue to drive. “Can we go one day without someone trying to shoot us?” he grumbles, squinting against the dust your wagon kicks up.

You shrug, eyes on the road, the reins tight in your grip. “Wouldn’t be much of a life if it were quiet, that would be bezvýznamný,” you reply, a hint of your native tongue coloring the edges of your words.

“Say what’chu want, but I’d rather not die.”

“What happened to your confidence, Arthur?” Hosea teases, as he holds onto the sides of the wagon for dear life. The remaining bottles of moonshine click and clack loudly as you make another turn.

Arthur takes another shot and downs a raider. “How’s that for confidence?”

You laugh loudly, a thunderous laugh, and Arthur didn’t realize how much he missed it until now.

After some more turns, shots, and dodges, you three manage to eliminate and escape the raiders. You pull the wagon into a secluded spot and let the reins drop with a long exhale.

“We made it…!” you cheer. “That was some fun!”

Arthur rolls his shoulders, letting some of the tension go. “Shoah…”

Hosea lets himself off of the wagon, stretching his legs a little, his muscles aching after that ride. “That was some good driving, Kitka! Remind me to bring you along for the next getaway chase.”

Arthur swings his leg over the edge of the wagon and hops down to stand beside Hosea, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Well, if it ain't for Kit's drivin', we'd probably be riddled with bullets by now."

You walk by Arthur, a soft smile on your face. “I’d say it was your confident shooting. Couldn’t have done it without you, King Arthur.”

Arthur’s heart nearly stops. King…?

He turns and meets your eyes. In them, he sees a mixture of admiration and something deeper, something that he doesn’t want to misinterpret. He takes a step closer, his large hands lingering by his sides, holding back from drawing you into an embrace.

He swallows. “Why did you call me that?”

You shrug and look down at your feet. “I’m not sure. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

Of course, what was he thinking? “I guess so.”

Arthur looks over at Hosea, who has been watching you both with a gleam in his eye. “Well, I guess we can figure out what to do with the rest of this shine tomorrow. For now, I think I have a bedroll calling my name.”

You nod. “I agree.” And you turn to look up at Arthur. “Ready to go back to your kingdom, Arthur?”

He squints slightly, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "I reckon that kingdom's nowhere nearly as grand as the one you're imaginin’."

You chuckle softly, your eyes catching the moon’s light as it rises into the night sky. For all he can imagine, you could be his Guinevere, his queen. “I guess you’re right,” you sigh, and you turn to get back on the wagon. 

But in this moment, he realizes that it only matters if you know it, too.

Thank you for reading!

Tag Requests:

@photo1030 @eternalsams

[dantegreaves00]

And Hell Followed - A Far Cry 5 x FtM Reader series Part Eight

Deputy Y/N Jackson is in the middle of a Holy War in Hope County Montana. Originally sent to arrest Joseph Seed he ended up becoming the leader of the Resistance, but the deputy has a secret. A secret that only Whitehorse knows. When his younger brother and sister show up one day out of the blue, Y/N finds out that his own personal hell has found him. Now with the help of the very people he was supposed to stop can he save his family and himself?

I know this summary sucks.

Anyway I hope you enjoy this slow burn series

Trigger Warnings

Mentions of past child abuse

Mentions of past child SA

Mentions of SA

Stalking

Guns

Drugs

Religion bashing (the Deputy has religious trauma)

Religious trauma

Transphobia

Homophobia

Angst

Warnings for this part are Guns, Transphobia, use of the T slur, misgendering on purpose and intensionally using the wrong pronouns for the reader.

Please enjoy, I'm glad to be back writing.

Tag list

@gamergirl-06 @capriskunk @transpanda07

Let me know what you think

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

Chaos erupted as everyone started yelling over each other.

"Everyone shut up and be quiet!" Whitehorse yelled, causing people to yell even more.

"How can anyone be ok with this, Eli did you know?" Wheaty asked as he and the other Whitetails started to pace.

"Yes I knew, that's why I agreed to this meeting"

"Then why didn't you say anything to the rest of us?"

"Because I knew that you dipshits would react like this"

"This is bullshit Eli and you know it" one of the Whitetails said angrily.

Joseph approached Whitehorse who looked conflicted about the news he just heard.

"Sheriff Whitehorse, I know that we don't share the same ideals and beliefs but I can agree to the ceasefire and convince the project to agree as well, I have seen the way my brother has changed since meeting the Deputy, it's been good for him" Joseph said as Whitehorse looked at me before nodding his head in agreement.

"I don't know how the others will react, you still have two of my Deputys and the Marshal, if you release them then that would help convince the others to the agreement"

"Consider it done"

Jacob started to approach me, causing John to push me behind him.

"Don't you dare" John said, his voice stern and deep.

Jacob smirked before handing his gun to Eli, who was confused but took his gun carefully.

"Easy Johnny, I'm not going to do anything calm down" he said before pulling John into a hug "I'm happy for you little brother"

The two hugged for a bit before Jacob released John and started to walk over to me.

"Deputy I don't think I have to tell you what I will do to you if you hurt my little brother?"

"You don't have to worry about that Jacob in fact if I do hurt him I'll hand you the gun"

We looked at each other for a moment before Jacob let out a small chuckle causing me to let out a tiny laugh.

"I'm going to radio Nick and the others, have this info coming from me instead of hearing it anywhere else" I told John who nodded his head in agreement.

"I'll let the chosen know that your friends are to be let in as well as Nick and your family" he said nodding to his brothers and Faith, before leaving the church to talk to the guards.

Pulling out my radio I set it to the joint channel, so it was easier to talk to everyone.

"Guns for Hire, it's Dep, I need you guys to listen"

"Copy that, Deputy" I heard Grace say.

"Yo Deputy, oh man me and Sharky were just saying we need to get the three of us together again to drink some of this moonshine we made" came Hurk's voice.

"Why am I not surprised you two are doing something stupid" Jess said in her usual tone.

"I hope this is important, I was in the middle of yoga with Xander and we were doing the downward dog" Adelaide said.

"Adelaide, I did not need to hear any of that while I have young impressionable children with me, anyway what's up partner?" Came Nick's response.

"Look, I'm at Joseph's church with Sheriff Whitehorse, Eli and some Whitetails, we've decided on a ceasefire and I need you guys here so I can explain something in person, I'm telling you guys first before telling the others because honestly both Mary May and Tracey scare the shit out of me" I said.

"Oh shit sounds like the reason is really important if Eli is there, I'll be there soon, do you want me to grab Dutch while I'm at it?" Jess asked.

"Na I'll radio him next, might have to make an in person visit ya know"

"I'll be there soon, am I bringing Ava and Elijah with me?" Nick asked.

"Yes please, and be safe" I replied.

"Sharky here, Hurk's just gone to load up the truck then we'll be with ya, I just gotta get my pants on"

"Oh Sharky, tell the Seeds I'll be landing Tulip soon and I want her left the way I bring her" said Adelaide.

"I was already on my way when you mentioned a ceasefire, I thought if everyone is there might as well give you back up Deputy" Grace said.

"Ok well I'll see you guys in a bit, if on your travels you see Boomer, Peaches and Cheeseburger, can you bring them with, I want my siblings to meet them" I said.

After everyone confirmed they heard me I put my radio down as Whitehorse came to stand by me as i noticed Joseph approach the stage of his church where we first saw him that fateful night.

"Ok everyone listen, me and Sheriff Whitehorse have come to an agreement, Eden's Gate will hand over Deputys Pratt and Hudson, and we will stop all Bliss production in order to prove that we agree to the ceasefire..." he began to say before Wheaty cut him off "What about all the people taken by you guys that are being kept at the Veteran's center and all the other bunkers?"

"I'll go get them" I said causing one of the Whitetails to laugh.

Her face cold and empty as she looked at me.

"Oh yes, send in the Deputy, the savour of Hope County, the one person we relied upon to help us only to find out the trany was sleeping with the enemy!" Yelled the only female Whitetail I had only briefly met besides Tammy.

"How did you... Eli did you out me to everyone?" I asked him.

"What? No kid, I would never do that, I kept it secret like you asked me to, I don't know how she found out" Eli said, his voice sincere.

"I found out when I was in charge of checking the secretary cameras, you know Deputy you should be more careful where you bandage up your wounds." the female Whitetail said before drawing her gun to my head.

"This thing betrayed us, said we could trust it, then just because the bitches deadbeat father shows his face and puts everyone in danger, oh now we're agreeing to a ceasefire, not when I don't know she was sleeping with John Fucking Seed!" She yelled at me, about to pull the trigger when...

"I won't do that if I were you"

[wilson-laineyd]

Lainey Denay Wilson, 32, Bisexual.

Three (3) Fun Facts:

i saw my first show at the Carolina Opry when i was Nine.

i was the first woman to win entertainer of the year since Taylor Swift. (she's such a queen)

i grew up in a very small town in Louisiana. with a population of only 250 people.

A Guilty Pleasure:

i have a routine after i get out of the shower where i will dance & sing songs butt naked in my bedroom until i'm dry.

Something I Won’t Shut Up About:

probably my love of music. i am extremely passionate about my job & i think it makes me who i am.

Two Truths & One Lie:

i opened up a three story bar called Bell Bottoms Up in Nashville.

i used to be a Hannah Montana impersonator in high school.

i've never actually drank Watermelon Moonshine.

i'm extremely down to earth, or so i've been told. i love to travel & try new things! could you be my new thing to try? ✧

@hollywoodfamerp

[katewibberlystan]

recommending you books i enjoy based on your favorite tbob character (ft a sentence for what each one is about/why it's awesome, and the intended audience)

kate: - the last magician by lisa maxwell; a well constructed time travel heist set in 1902 NYC, with immaculate worldbuilding and fascinating magic. YA. - the once and future witches by alix e. harrow; three sisters, who are also witches, organize for women's suffrage and fight against an ancient evil. Adult. - truthwitch by susan dennard; a pair of witches and best friends become caught up in political intrigue, reincarnated monsters, and a fantastically crafted world of complex characters and cool magic. YA. - time stoppers by carrie jones; an orphaned pre-teen discovers a secret town full of magic, one that she and her friends must save from attacking monsters. Middle Grade. - the diviners by libba bray; a group of teenagers with paranormal abilities find themselves fighting off evil spirits in the 1920s.

michael: - matilda by roald dahl; a classic children's fantasy that celebrates learning and families of choice. Middle Grade. - the strange case of the alchemist's daughter by theodora goss; the children of gothic literature's classic mad scientists come together to solve mysteries and stop human experimentation. Adult. - every heart a doorway by seanan mcguire; a quick, poetic read about what happens to the kids from a portal fantasy quest after they come home. YA. - the girl from everywhere by heidi helig; a pirate ship that can travel between time and fictional worlds, so long as they have a map, sets out on a quest to reunite their captain with his lost love. YA. - miss peregrine's home for peculiar children by ransom riggs; after his grandfather's death, a teenage boy is thrown into a world of monsters, time travel, and people with superhuman abilities. YA.

emma: - the scapegracers by h. a. clarke; a group of teen witches become friends and form a coven to defeat a group of modern day witch hunters trying to steal their magic. YA. - the lost girls by sonia hartl; a group of vampires plan to kill the man who made them this way, before he can harm any other women. YA. - the society for soulless girls by laura steven; a college student's attempts to investigate mysterious deaths becomes connected to her angry roommate's attempts to create a potion that can alter a personality. YA. - coraline by neil gaiman; a kid finds a door to a different world in her new home, a world that seems pleasant at first but soon grows quite terrifying. Middle Grade. - bad witch burning by jessica lewis; a teenage girl trying to escape poverty raises the dead for money, only to find her zombies cannot be controlled. YA.

gabriel: - holes by louis sachar; boys at a juvenile detention camp are forced to search for a lost treasure and explore the complicated history behind it. Middle Grade. - nettle and bone by t. kingfisher; a woman sets out to kill the evil prince holding her sister prisoner, with the help of a motely crew including an exiled warrior, a fairy godmother, a witch, a possessed chicken, and a skeleton dog. Adult. - lone women by victor lavelle; after her parents die, a woman with a monster trapped in her suitcase tries to survive and build a home for herself in the Montana wilderness. Adult. - chomp by carl hiaasen; in the Florida everglades, a young boy and his animal trainer father are commissioned to help film a survivalist tv show. Middle Grade. - revelator by daryl gregory; set in the 1930s/40s Tennessee, a moonshiner raised by a cult has to return and face the monstrous being her family worships. Adult.

wilamena: - the black witch by laurie forest; a complex fantasy world in which rebellion foments among many beings at a magical college. YA. - island of the aunts by eva ibbotson; a fun children's fantasy where two outcasts are kidnapped by eccentric old women to help protect an island full of magical creatures. Middle Grade. - children of blood and bone by tomi adeyemi; a young woman persecuted for her powers fights to take back her home from a magic-hating tyrant. YA. - deep blue by jennifer donnelly; the underwater world of mermaids is plunged into chaos when political machinations and an ancient prophecy collide. YA. - the thirteen treasures by michelle harrison; a girl who can see fairies is sent to live with her grandma, where she uncovers secrets about her abilities. Middle Grade.

rafe: - the witch haven by sasha peyton smith; a student at a school for witches in 1911 NYC is searching for answers about her brother's murder. YA. - the bones of ruin by sarah raughley; an acrobat who cannot die joins a magical tournament held by the most powerful people in Victorian London in exchange for answers about her forgotten past. YA. - the court of miracles by kester grant; a thief forms alliances and completes impossible tasks in Paris's elaborate criminal underworld, all so she can keep her little sister safe. YA. - the gilded wolves by roshani chokshi; a tight-knit group of criminals is tasked with recovering a magical artifact capable of changing the world. YA. - the cure for dreaming by cat winters; a teen suffragette gains the ability to see people's essence after an encounter with a hypnotist. YA.

bonus, all of the above: reaper man by terry pratchett. literally everyone should read discworld, it's amazing and reaper man is my favorite. good omens by pratchett is also a gem.

[krispyweiss]

Song Review: The Kitchen Dwellers feat. Lindsay Lou - “They Love Each Other”

If drugs are required to make Grateful Dead music make sense - and they are not - then break out the acid-spiked moonshine for the Kitchen Dwellers and Lindsay Lou’s rendition of “They Love Each Other.”

It’s bluegrass, yes. But it sways in a Dead way with Lou going old-school by retrieving long-abandoned lyrics to sing after an instrumental break featuring a banjo solo over mandolin, acoustic guitar and upright bass.

I heard your news report/you know you’re fallin’ short/pretty soon, they won’t trust you for the weather, she intones before kicking her voice into high gear and making it crack in all the right places.

Recorded live backstage before a gig in Montana, it’s the kind of clip that helps ensure Dead music will have a long, healthy life.

Grade card: The Kitchen Dwellers feat. Lindsay Lou - “They Love Each Other” - A

2/13/23

[devilsanddarlings]

Starter Call

This is a starter call for any of my Teen Wolf muses! The list includes:

Jared Argent: Kate’s estranged son and Allison’s older cousin from France. Was born and raised in hunter culture, but does not share in his family’s extremist views thanks to his inheriting his father Jean-Luc’s strict moral code.

Laura Hale: Mixologist and moonshiner, specializing in alcohol specifically meant for werewolves. Derek’s older sister and the former Hale alpha. Hijacked some of the power of the resurrection ritual Peter used for his return to come back as well though she came back without her alpha spark.

David Hale: A physiotherapist for the Seattle Seahawks, David is the son of Talia’s cousin Phoebe and a human named Joshua Norwood. He escaped the fire by virtue of being in Seattle with his father and sister visiting their grandmother for her birthday at the time of the attack and doesn’t know his cousins survived. Has been living under the name Thomas Norwood ever since the attack.

Thea Hale: David’s younger sister and a musician for the Seattle Symphony. Mentors new werewolves with anger issues as a way to honor her own mentor’s impact on her life. Has been living under the alias Danielle Norwood since their father moved them from Beacon Hills to Seattle in the aftermath of the fire to protect them from hunters. Is the first one to stumble across the surviving Hales.

Alicia (Boyd) Gacy: Boyd’s missing younger sister. Kidnapped by a rogue wolf as a child due to her association with the Hales. Was eventually rescued from him by hunters and then from the hunters by the alpha of the Gacy pack after realizing she’d been bit. Has been living in Montana with them ever since, too afraid of bringing trouble to her pack’s doorstep to ever return to Beacon Hills.

[danielleegnew]

****✅🎸🤘MARK IT— THIS FRIDAY, April 28th!!!***** 🎶💜 The premier of Danielle Egnew and the Moonshine Preachers single “Weekends are my Drinking Days”, dropped worldwide on Spotify, Pandora, AppleiTunes, Apple Music, Amazon Music, Deezer, YouTube, and so many more!!! 🎵🎤 Featuring me on vocals/guitar 🎵🎸Patrick Bjorndal on bass 🪘🥁Peter Michelotti on percussion!!! ⏰ Set yer clock Counting down, T-Minus 3 days!!! AAAAAND — GO!!!!*****. #music #musicproducer #musicproduction #singer #singersongwriter #recording #musician #musiclife #americana #gibsonguitars #yamahainstruments #pearldrums #percussion #percussionist #zildjian #zildjiancymbals #gibsoncustom #gibsoncustomshop #moonshinepreachers (at Billings, Montana) https://www.instagram.com/p/Crd-ULpPzLl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[worldwanderings-net]

Glacier Distilling Company

I had a nice and quick dinner at Josephine's Bar and Kitchen. I noticed that they have a large selection of liquor here and I was hoping to find out more about it. Turns out there is a well known distillery next door and that is where they probably get all their stuff. I was surprised at the presence of the distillery here. Maybe there is something about the remoteness of the place that makes them make their own spirits. Or maybe that the pure waters of the glacier area make for the perfect ingredient to make them. Glacier Distilling Company is just a stone's throw away from Josephine's and it also looks like another log cabin. Going in, you would be surprised to see a large selection of spirits available here.

Continue Reading in Worldwanderings.net

[lethalchiralium]

“Look what Daddy got ye, Claire.” Johnny smirked at his little blonde babe, the girl clapping her little hands at him with a toothless smile. In his hand was a little stuffed rabbit, fabric hand-sewn from the market in town. “Here ye go, lass.”

The baby squealed in her high chair, she clutched her new toy in her hand while she eyed it curiously. Johnny leaned down and kissed her curls, the little thing squealed again. He felt a gentle hand on his lower back, he didn’t even have to look to know it was Simon.

“Didn’t hear ya come in.”

Johnny chuckled a little before standing up straight, hand seeking purchase on some inch of Simon’s side. He peered into view, Johnny’s hand settled on Simon’s hip before he kissed him. “Thought th’ babe was nappin’, so ah was quiet.”

Simon nodded towards Claire, his own hand gripped Johnny’s side. “She’s been lookin’ around for you all day. Little Bird found it funny, she laughed and made Claire cry.”

Johnny looked back at his daughter - who was chewing on an arm of her toy - then back to his husband. “Where is the wife anyway?”

“Laid up in bed. Woke up ill.”

Johnny gave a curious look, Simon smacked his side.

“Haven’t been doin’ anything, Johnny. You know that.” His hand reached for Claire, gently petting her shoulder. “She’s not sure she even wants another now. Mad that she’s sick ‘cause Claire was.”

“Mm.” Johnny nodded before he turned to look into the bedroom, seeing the shape of you underneath the quilts. “Join us when she’s down?”

Simon kissed him again, quick and chaste but with a smile. “Always.”

Johnny moved into the bedroom with a couple steps, his smile large as he slipped under the quilt with you. “Hello, Little Bird.”

“Gon’ get you sick.”

His head settled on yours, arm on your side and wrapped around your front. “Don’t matter.”

“You’ve got horse duty tomorrow.”

“Ah know it.”

“Johnny…”

He kissed your cheek before closing his eyes. “Sleep, Little Bird. Jus’ wanna hold ye.”

[marquesvickers]

While the sweet canaries sang in front of this Helena, Montana store, the patrons sold Prohibition moonshine. #moonshine, #montana, #helena, #helenamontana, #travel, #montana, #prohibition, #tourism, #scandal, #vice https://www.instagram.com/p/CFr-7a0neqO/?igshid=1xnua80vl823l

[ask-the-usa-manor]

Every state's liquor of choice?

“Hold on, I think we have a list for this…” California muttered, searching through a pile of papers, “Ah! Here we go!”

She showed off the page titled;

Each States’ Favorite Alcoholic Drink

✨ In Reverse Alphabetical Order ✨

Wyoming: Whiskey

Wisconsin: Brandy Old-Fashioned

West Virginia: Locally-Made Moonshine

Washington: Washington Apple Cocktail

Virginia: She’d never admit it, but moonshine.

Vermont: Old Vermont Cocktail

Utah: Root Beer

Texas: Margarita

Tennessee: Tennessee Whiskey

South Dakota: Red Beer

South Carolina: South Carolinian Sweet Tea and Vodka

Rhode Island: Rhode Island Red

Pennsylvania: Boilo

Oregon: Craft Beer

Oklahoma: Lunchbox Cocktail

Ohio: Buckeye Martini

North Dakota: Craft Beer

North Carolina: Cherry Bounce

New York: Long Island Iced Tea

New Mexico: Chimayo Cocktail

New Jersey: Applejack

New Hampshire: Wine

Nevada: Nevada Cocktail

Nebraska: Red Beer

Montana: Whisky Ditch

Missouri: Caribou Lou

Mississippi: Mississippi Punch

Minnesota: “Bootleg—whisky over ice with a splash of water”

Michigan: Mead

Massachusetts: Cape Codder

Maryland: Black-Eyed Susan

Maine: Coffee Brandy

Louisiana: Sazarac

Kentucky: Mint Julep

Kansas: Moose Bowl

Iowa: Iowa Buck

Indiana: Hoosier Heritage

Illinois: Doesn’t have an official name as far as I know, but the Chicago Bloody Mary is a Bloody Mary mix with vodka infused with rosemary and olive.

Idaho: Craft Beer

Hawaii: Mai Tai

Georgia: Georgia Peach

Florida: Mojito

Delaware: Delaware IPA

Connecticut: Wine

Colorado: Craft Beer

California: Wine

Arkansas: Arkansas Razorback

Arizona: Prickly Pear Margarita

Alaska: Doesn’t normally drink, but when he does his favorite’s a drink so classily named… Duck Farts! Rock on, Alaska.

Alabama: Yellow Hammer

[cowboycunt]

i just need to live in the middle of nowhere montana and have little house on a decent plot of land where i grow my own vegetables and fruit and weed and make my own shitty moonshine. i drive to the local town once every two weeks to go grocery shopping and restock on essentials. i don’t speak to anyone but i have a large dog and two cats as my friends. my house has great wifi of course but the area has shitty cell reception. i spend my days tending the garden, fixing the house, and doing dumb little hobbies. i own a red pickup truck that has an air mattress in the back for when i decide to go on a bad tinder date. i die at the age of 47 when a bear attacks me. this would all fix me.

[8bitpizzacoupons]

tagged by @henbased @strafethesesinners and @adelaidedrubman ! tagging: @henbased again (do Logan), @nonfunctioning-queer , @radioactive-synth​ , anyone who’s done this who has more OCs they wanna share!

GENERAL

name: Crystal Jones

alias(es): Cris, Crissy

gender: cis woman

age: 26 (as of 2018)

birthdate: June 27, 1992

place of birth: parking lot just outside the Hope County doctor’s office

hometown: Hope County, Montana

spoken languages: English

sexual preference: Straight

occupation: shoplifter, mooch, part-time singer

eye color: brown (when she still had eyes)

APPEARANCE

hair color: white-blonde

height: 5’3

scars: heavy scarring in/around eye sockets

FAVOURITE

color: they all look the same to her, but she says it’s black. She likes the vibes.

hair color: no preference, but she likes the feel of thick, soft hair

eye color: no preference

song: Fuck the Pain Away by Peaches

food: Chad’s Special BBQ Ribs Of Indeterminate Origin

drink: moonshine, the stronger the better

HAVE THEY

passed university: no

had sex: yes

had sex in public: yes

gotten pregnant: yes

kissed a boy: yes

kissed a girl: yes

gotten tattoos: no, but she’s thought about scarification

gotten piercings: yes (several in both ears)

been in love: she’s not sure

stayed up for more than 24 hours: yes

ARE THEY

a virgin: no

a cuddler : not sober

a kisser: yes

scared easily: no

jealous easily: no

trustworthy: absolutely not

dominant: very

submissive: no

in love: maybe???

single: never

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: only accidentally

have they thought about suicide: no

have they attempted suicide: no

wanted to kill someone: yes

have/had a job: no

have any fear(s): yes

FAMILY

siblings: none

parents: Darren Jones (father, currently incarcerated), Tammi Jones (mother, Eden’s Gate acolyte).

children: none

significant other: Wheaty, Aaron “Tweak” Kirby

pets: Tweak