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chanyoungies · 3 years

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bye bye 2020, hello 2021 !!

happy new year everyone!! there’s a lot of people i want to thank for making last year so much more bearable so i tried writing some messages for some of my dearest mutuals this year as well!! (keyword tried because i absolutely cannot put my feelings and thoughts into words. i love you all though and thank you so so so much!!!)

@angelhyunjin : angi!! i know you’re not on here anymore (actually i just found out . i ran to twt to find u as quick as i could!!) but it felt weird not?? putting you on here because you WERE a big part of my year!! i was always excited to chat with you and i rlly rlly loved (still do) seeing your art and your dance covers i can’t believe how talented at both you are!! you are really really lovely and even if it’s been a while i hope you know i still think of you and hope you’re doing well!! this year might have been hard but i hope 2021 will be much nicer to you because you definitely deserve it!! i love you!!

@cinanamon : stephie!! i think we haven’t talked in a while until we started suddenly bonding over minho but all is well that ends well because now we are the founders of a minho cult and that’s all i could hope for in life i think! we don’t talk that much but seeing your tags in all the minho posts is always a TIME i absolutely love reading them! thank you for being there to lose it over minho, always, but also for being there in general! you are really sweet and i do love to talk to u!! i also know you are a really good writer so i hope 2021 brings you lots of inspiration to write more!! (and i’ll finally catch up on your fics too! hehe) happy new year!!

@cocogoat : puppy !! i think we haven’t been friends for long actually and that sounds fake because that would mean there was a time i didn’t instinctively check your blog when i woke up in the morning (or the evening let’s be real)?? you are so! adorable and for what!!!!!! i really do love seeing you pop up in my phone notifs and reading your posts even if i dont have any idea what they’re saying half of the time unless it’s dgrp (i cannot believe i have a dgrp friend now. amazing i think i won) u are so funny and so cute and i’m really glad i got to know you because!! you’re such a nice friend that i! love! times can be hard but i hope 2021 is gentle with you because that is! what! you deserve! gentle pats and tight hugs! (maybe that’s why i associate ab6ix’s heaven with you it’s the gentle vibes) <3

@glossiers : miss bri i am in love w u that’s it. no i’m kidding that’s not it i have much more to say . i am in lov w u though #brillie2k21 i think. i think it’s been a surprisingly short time since we’ve actually started talking?? which is kinda crazy if u ask me because?? how the hell did i live my life without screaming BRIIIII whenever i see u on the dash like for real how . that sounds like a life so empty like. that would rlly be missing . something?? anyways u are a dear dear friend that i really really love and i’m sure you know that but i will keep saying it anyway! i’m sure i’m pretty annoying so thanks for putting up with me! and for talking to me! i feel like i’ve said it before but! you are a delight to see on the dash and i lovlovlov talking to u (and sending u pics of my cats, thank u for appreciating them). i still cannot believe u managed to convince yourself i was a hyeongjun stan though. hope i can be convincing enough to clear that up and leave no doubts in your brain this year. anyways i love you and i hope we can continue to be friends and talk even MORE this year!!!!!! happy new year ilu <3

@hwacinth : miss dia my sweet sweet floral nymph real life shirayuki and queen of urls! i am? so so so so so glad that we are friends you literally have my heart it is YOURS i can’t even try to claim it back!! you literally are shirayuki i don’t even know how to elaborate i think it’s just self-explanatory but you are just. such a sweet little sunshine!! it’s like you bring spring everywhere you go!! we could be in a middle of a metaphorical storm but when you appear the skies clear up and flowers bloom wherever you step and i cannot help but smile when i see you online!! thank you so so much for being my little ray of sunshine in these tough times! i hope to see even more of your posts this year!! don’t hesitate to live blog anything you watch in my dms if you feel like you’re posting too much (but i hope you never feel that way because you’re not . love seeing u live post it is absolutely amazing i won’t ever get tired of it)!! happy new year and i love you!! ps only 1 more hour until your birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIA ILUUU <3 I HOPE YOU CAN HAVE A WONDERFUL ONE!! IM SENDING YOU CAKE TELEPATHICALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@hwisgf : sorinaaaa! happy new year!! we don’t talk that much but it is always nice seeing you around! you are vv sweet and i really appreciate that, thank you for taking the time to talk to me sometimes!! you are also probably my only fantasy mutual?? which is terrible on one side because i think everyone should stan sf9 but that’s besides the point . i really do love the fact that i at least have u to talk to abt sf9 if need and i LOVE seeing u in love with hwi it is absolutely amazing. i am forever grateful for all the free hwi pics days too!! <3 i hope 2021 can be a year full of happiness for you!! (also that is also besides the point but @ fnc i want an sf9 cb announcement) ILY!! (and so does hwi)

@inkigayeo : miss vivi galaxy brain happy new year!! we only started talking recently but u do have my heart already!! i hope this year treats you well and that we can get to know each other more and be friends hehe!!!! <3 (my other wish is for u to stop breaking my heart with those fake titles. please . why should san NOT come back explain yourself .)

@jeongcheols : mimi . mimi mimi mimi im literally typing this as u are listening to that ten n dj stage ok now it’s kai ok anyways . ANYWAYS i am loving your sm concert live commentary . criminal is sounding amazing taemin is insane indeed (yes i took a break before coming back to writing this) i truly don’t know what to say?? n i have to keep watching the time so that i can scream HAPPY NEW YEAR into the mic in 14 minutes. but like?? i love you?? like. like for real i don’t know what i would’ve done without you?? also it’s weird writing this for tumblr instead of just in your messages (also i can’t focus with idea playing. idea soty). and i mean. you technically know all of this but like?? i can’t believe we’ve known each other for so long but also such a short time at the same time like. what. thank you for being my bestestest friend and my soulmat i don’t think i would’ve been able to remain sane this year (and last year too honestly) if it wasn’t for you?? thank you for always listening to my incoherent rants and i’m always so sorry for spamming you while you’re asleep i know you must wake up to like 150+ messages with absolutely no connection between them and they’re all just so random i truly don’t know how you manage to not get annoyed and to just stay with me all this time i’m- getting emotional. you had a terrible year, i know it! i really do!! and while it might not be looking too bright right now, i hope the universe hears me and treats you much better in 2021 because!! you deserve so much more!! you deserve the world, really!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i would write more really but like what is there to say literally i’m just (your emoji)) i love you for real;;

@nakyngs : ele <3 happy new year!!!!!! we haven’t talked much this year but i do think of u a lot daily i hope you know that!! and i love u a lot! even if i still need to catch up on all your aus </3 i hope 2021 can be a fun and stress-free year for you!! and we should catch up sometime too!! ps i hope your fish are ok

@ncityzen : dear spring fairy!! i already sent you a new year’s message earlier today like what. 6 hours ago but! once again!! i really do hope you can leave the hard times behind in 2020 and only get the best things possible this new year!! i’m always very happy to see you appear on my dash and curious to see your life updates and your random literature-related mini-rants in the tags they are always very interesting to see!! so! hoping to see even more of that this year <3 i hope you know that i love you and i really care about you!!

@woojjongs : MISS IRI! i am screaming this very loud so hopefully u can hear me all the way in canada! okay i had to leave this one for last because i?? don’t really know how to start i’m just a pink glittery puddle with lil hearts flowing in it that is how i feel towards u right now . how does one think and how does one write down their thoughts coherently give me a second. this is going to be a mess maybe u shouldn’t read it (‘accidentally’ forgets to tag u). just know that i decided to play txt’s wishlist to write this and u might be confused by that but all u need to know is that it means i love you very much. OKAY so miss iri you are . such a wonderful pal i truly don’t know what i would’ve done without you like . it would feel so weird not seeing you around tumblr would be so so so so empty i don’t even think you can begin to imagine how empty i’d feel without you around here ksdjbskbds i absolutely adore you but we already knew that. i’m always super excited to see your gifsets and your nonsense!! be it your love for woojong or u missing lim jimin (play m.. 🔪) or your snoo brainrot or hating literally anyone on smtm or whatever else it might be i love it all!! you are so cute and adorable and talented and sweet and funny i cannot believe you also happen to be the prettiest person on earth too. how does that feel! anyways i love you so so so so so much? i keep telling you to hold back from committing crimes but i absolutely WOULD commit a crime for u i really do adore you!! i mean . how many groups did u make me stan . (ok actually i don’t think there’s that many. but STILL) i know i can be super annoying but thank u for taking the time to chat with me nonetheless!! i’m all over the place but . there’s times i come online literally just to check your blog nothing else! i hope we can continue to be friends this year too n perhaps talk more (or the same amount idk please tell me off when i’m too annoying)!! happy new year, i hope it holds wonderful things in store for u!!!!!! and we really are starting off great since victon comeback is approaching <3 (this got way too long i’m so sorry i’ll cut it off now before i write 10 pages)

@xiaocity : miss siya hello hello hello first of all i’m just so very glad that you’re back i l o v e you!!! i love seeing you around be it your gifs or your text posts which yes. i cannot properly understand half of the time but google is my best friend after all! you’re such a wonderful person and i’m just?? really glad to have you around like?? you feel kind of like a cousin i don’t always get to see but am always excited to talk to when i can? this might not make sense but. you are vvv cool and talented and funny and feel very like. reliable? i feel like i am not making any sense so like ignore me. what i’m saying is i really really like you a whole lot and i really hope we can talk even more in 2021!! happy new year, i hope it’s a wonderful one for you!!

@yunwoo : miss anna we haven’t been moots for that long and we haven’t talked much but u are vvv cute and i hope we can become (better) pals this year!! i’m looking forward to seeing u on the dash more often, hopefully!! happy new year <3

#happy new year everyone i love you all;;;; thank you again!! hope 2021 treats you all nicely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#there's like a few mutuals i rlly do appreciate but didn't really have much to say to/abt because we haven't really . talked #i really do love all of you though!!!!!!!!!!;;;;;

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realanimeguru · 3 years

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Spring 2021 Plan To Watch List

(Spring 2021 Preview) these things get longer and longer...

YES!!! (gonna watch as soon as first episode airs)

Boku no Hero Academia 5th Season (not gonna lie i thought last season was weak... but next season looks like another tournament arc, and the first tournament arc is when i started to get really into bnha. here’s to hoping things pick up!)

Yuukoku no Moriarty 2nd Season ( the villains are way too campy to be realistic, but it’s fun regardless. eat the rich)

Subarashiki Kono Sekai The Animation (i am so excited for Joshua lmfao. the CG honestly isn’t too distracting either)

Bishounen Tanteidan (i ADORE Kinako as a character designer, and Shaft brings beautiful animation. i’m hoping the plot is good too)

Maybe! (i’m busy rn but will watch these later if they get good feedback)

Shaman King (2021) (i was tempted to watch the OLD series a while ago. if the reboot is good, i’ll just watch that instead. i love the character designs)

Mars Red (didn’t realize it was based off a stage play until just now! not a lot of good vampire anime. also love the character designs. especially mad scientist guy)

Gokushufudou (i was already interested in watching this but Tsuda Kenjiro is SUCH A GOOD VA CHOICE.. JC didn’t bring their A game animation-wise though)

86 (a sci-fi drama about the tragedies of war... the og light novel has a good score too)

Ijiranaide, Nagatoro-san (i’m more iffy on this than the others here bc i’m not sure how horny this gets. but Nagatoro looks like an insane person and Senpai is really cute with his fluffy hair and glasses. i also like Nagatoro’s vibe of “only I can mess with him” ...we’ll see)

Tokyo Revengers (has an interesting premise, though you can’t tell by the pv. mc’s girlfriend is murdered by a gang and he travels back in time to infiltrate the gang before they can murder her. the manga as better style from what it looks like though)

Fumetsu no Anata e (i’m excited to cry!!! really hope they pull that off well)

Maybe not (might watch it months later or has like a 5% chance of me watching it)

Godzilla: S.P (i am somewhat tempted to watch this because the main characters are cute and i like studio bones, but i am... not into godzilla or mechs)

Hetalia World★Stars (i was debating where to put this, but i don’t think i’m even caught up to hetalia, so here it goes. genuinely curious about how modern tumblr will receive this)

Nomad: Megalo Box 2 (not a fan of Joe’s redesign, but the music slapped so hard in season one that i’m willing to give this a go anyways. eventually.)

Fruits Basket: The Final (i’m still watching season 1... >:’3 also i’m sorry to say this but Akito is my favorite character) Fairy Ranmaru: Anata no Kokoro Otasuke Shimasu (i am only interested in this in the sense that it looks like a very bad magical boy anime and i dig that)

Edens Zero (i’m confused if this is in the same universe as Fairy Tail or not, so i’m not sure if i should finish FT first but. regardless. i’m imagining that this show doesn’t require much thought put into it)

Shadows House (looks like a horror but isn’t tagged as one. i am slightly interested in the atmosphere but there’s too little to go off of. could be a good mystery)

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun 2nd Season (i am definitely gonna watch this spoopy demon show one day i swear it)

#spring 2021 #spring 2021 anime #plan to watch #anime #first impressions #long post #about me

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let-it-raines · 4 years

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Yellow Flowers In Your Hair (3/3)

Emma Nolan has been raised in a privileged household and has never wanted for anything other than freedom to live her life on her own terms. Her parents want that for her as well, at least to a certain extent, but when her father unexpectedly passes, Emma is left with two options: marry a man she doesn't love or lose the home filled with memories of her beloved father as well as memories of her first love, a man with blue eyes and a kind smile who left for the Navy years ago and hasn’t been home since.

But what if her first love were to come back?

Rating: Mature (it’s really only part of this chapter for anyone who hasn’t read)

a/n: to @shardminds your reactions to this story (and every story) are amazing and put the biggest smile on my face! If I could get 1% as excited about things as you do, I feel like I’d be walking around with that goofy smile all the time ❤️ I hope you like the conclusion to your fic!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Tag list: @shardminds @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @stahlop @spartanguard

-/-

Emma has a rather excellent understanding of the English language, even if there is much that confuses her and much to learn, but the two words that Killian has just spoken seem almost foreign. It’s odd, especially because she heard them once before not two months ago, but there is something entirely different about hearing them now and hearing his voice be the one to say them.

Marry me.

Killian has asked her to marry him with wet tears covering the blue of his eyes and a slight shake to his voice that she recognizes as someone being hopeful and scared all at once.

She would know. That was her when she saw him walking the roads less than an hour ago. This day feels like a dream and a nightmare mixed into one, and if she pinches herself hard enough, maybe she’ll wake up and it’ll all be over.

Emma grabs her skin in between two fingers. Nothing happens. Killian is still there. She’s still in a wedding dress.

Her heart is still pounding.

Marry me, Emma.

They are words she imagined hearing from him many a time, but nothing would compare to this. Nothing would compare to the way that she feels, the way that her tears continue to fall over warmed, rosy cheeks and her hands shake. She has never been one to believe that women must be married to be worth something, despite the situation that she currently finds herself in, but she has always been one to believe that being in love with the right person changes everything.

After agreeing to marry Neal, she never thought she would have that love, not the way that she felt about Killian despite how young they were, and yet here he is kneeling in front of her asking for her hand in marriage.

It is exhilarating and heart wrenching all at once, and Emma has no idea how to respond when she is already in a wedding dress set to marry someone else in fewer than ten minutes.

She wants to. She needs to, but she doesn’t know how the Cassidy family will handle this if she doesn’t go through with the wedding. There have been so many arrangements and agreements and…

“Killian…”

“Marry me,” he repeats, his blue eyes shining even more brightly than they were outside. “Emma, please. I know we do not know much about each other now, that we have grown and changed in ways that I cannot even begin to list, but I still love you. I always, always want to be by your side…if you’ll have me.”

“Killian, I can’t. I’m engaged to another man. I’ll lose the house. Mother and I will. I – ”

“I know. I know, darling. Ruby told me all about it outside, but don’t you see? You’re marrying Neal so that you can save your home. If you marry me, the same thing can happen. I can’t support you financially the way that he can, but I can support your hopes and wishes and all of the desires of your heart. There’s no need for you to enter into a loveless marriage when I’ve come home right in time.”

“Killian – ”

“Do you still love me?”

“What?”

“Do you still love me?”

Emma blinks, and she’s sure the black ink on her eyelashes is falling onto her skin, marking it and showing her tears. After these past few months, how does she have any left?

In truth, she doesn’t know if she still loves him. Emma is unsure if her affections are real and true or if they’re all rooted in memories of the time when she did love him. But she was so young then, so naïve and inexperienced in life, and can she truly love someone she hasn’t seen in nearly seven years?

Could she break Killian’s heart by not answering his question?

Could she break her own?

For so many years she’s been sure that she still loved him, held onto him like he is her favorite book in the library, but now that she’s faced with the question, her answer isn’t definite.

“I don’t know.”

His face doesn’t change, the desperate, hopeful smile staying, but his hands do squeeze hers until gooseflesh appears across her body. “That’s alright, darling. It’s been a long time. We’ve changed. Feelings can change.”

“I don’t mean – I don’t know what you want me to say to you because I do – ”

“Nothing, my love,” he whispers, releasing her hand to brush his thumb under her eye before tucking her hair behind her ear. He’s caressing her cheek, and she could melt into it. “I expect nothing of you, but I’d like you to listen to me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Emma nods as her stomach churns.

“Don’t marry Neal. Don’t do it if you don’t love him. You can marry me, Emma. You may not love me any longer, but I know that there are still feelings there, that they could grow. I also know that if I am lucky enough to have your hand in marriage, I can keep your family’s estate. I’ll also give you your space and treat you well. You can do whatever your heart desires. I have no expectations of you like Neal will. You will be my equal, and even if we don’t fall in love again, that will never change. I will never force your hand.”

“You are kind of forcing my hand right now,” she jokes.

Killian chuckles and leans down to press his forehead into her lap while she tentatively runs her hand through his hair. It’s softer than it was but no less thick. This is insane. None of this makes any sense to her, and it has to be a dream.

Emma has already pinched herself and felt the pain. This is real.

“This will be the only time,” Killian promises. “After this, it will be no more.”

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma bites down, marking her teeth with the red paint. This corset is too tight. It’s too tight, and she can’t breathe.

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe.

“Killian, find my mum and the priest. See if we can be married today or if we’ll have to fill out different paperwork for our marriage license. I don’t know how to tell Neal. I don’t - ”

“I’ll take care of it all, darling,” he speaks into her lap before pulling back and pressing his mouth to her cheek in a warm, wet kiss. She hasn’t felt so alive in months.

And then in a flash, he’s gone, the door hitting the wall behind him, and Emma’s left sitting alone in her dressing room with shaking shoulders and laughter that stems from deep in her belly and is working its way through her body.

She doesn’t have to marry Neal.

Killian is here.

She’s not going to be trapped.

“So,” a familiar voice says from the doorway, “looks like your lover boy arrived home just in time.”

Emma wipes a tear from underneath her eye and keeps laughing. “Ruby, he is not my lover.”

Ruby looks behind her before turning back and stepping into the room, a wolfish smirk painted on her lips. “Please, I knew what the two of you were up to out by the lake and in the gardens. The only people you were fooling were your parents.”

“Ruby,” Emma gasps, placing her hand over her chest. She cannot stop laughing. “We’re in a church!”

“Darling, if you don’t think people in this church talk about sex, you’re mistaken.”

“You are shameless.”

Ruby winks and steps into the room until she’s squatting in front of Emma and embracing her. “And you love me for that. Who else would give you all of the tips? Your mother? She was fumbling around with her advice this morning, so I don’t think she’d help by telling you that if you swivel your – ”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret gasps, and Ruby shuts up so quickly Emma isn’t sure she was ever speaking, “what is Killian going on about? What do you mean you’re not going to marry Neal? I thought you wanted to. I thought you were happy. We’ve made so many arrangements.”

Emma stands from her chair and walks over to her mother, gently placing her hands on Mary Margaret’s shoulders. “No, Mummy,” she admits, “I wasn’t happy. You know I was only doing this to save the house and to allow you to honor Papa by not having to marry again. I didn’t want to marry Neal. I don’t…Killian has offered to marry me, and I know he’s not the class that you want, that he doesn’t have the money, but I think he could actually make me happy.”

“Oh, my darling,” Mary Margaret sighs before cupping Emma’s cheeks, “that’s all I want for you. I promise. If I had known…I assumed you had grown to feel for Neal. I didn’t – ”

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry for not being truthful.”

“It’s alright. I promise that it is. The entire town will be gossiping about us for months, but I couldn’t give a damn.”

“Mother!”

Mary Margaret giggles, actually giggles, and Emma hasn’t seen her mum smile like that since before they lost David. There’s something so refreshing about it, especially since they spent much of this morning skirting around the fact that David should be here for Emma’s wedding day, even if the circumstances are unusual and they wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t passed, and Emma can’t help but giggle as well.

“No part of me is sorry,” her mum laughs. “We deserve happiness, and I will curse every blasted person who decides otherwise. Now where is this new groom of yours? I need to know if my daughter is getting married today or not.”

Killian comes back into the room with the priest no less than five minutes later, and his chest is visibly heaving. There’s also blood streaking across his face, and when Emma asks if Neal did that to him, he ignores her to tell her that they need to leave now and go and get a new license for marriage so that they can be married within two days. It’s a rush of emotions and thoughts, and Emma almost feels sorry for Neal when she sees him running after the carriage as she and Killian drive away.

He comes from a wealthy family, and he’ll easily find a wife that is much more to his liking. Emma would be too wild for him, and she knows that he wouldn’t like that.

She wouldn’t like him.

Still, he will likely try to hurt her for embarrassing him like this.

The next few hours are a rush. Emma is no longer sure of her directions or where she’s going or who is talking to her. Her heart is pounding, her cheeks inflamed, and life moves so quickly that before she knows it, it’s two days later and she’s standing in a pale pink dress with buttercups in her hair as Killian stands in front of her in his Naval uniform. Liam and his new wife have joined them at their home, Ruby and Granny too, and in front of those people, a priest, and her mum, Emma legally becomes bound to the man she once loved.

Killian Jones.

Killian Jones, the boy with blue eyes who became the man with a wicked smile and a kind heart.

The man who she cannot wait getting to know once more even with the consistent hum of her heart clouding her senses.

It’s slow and stilted at first. There was always so much passion between them, so much desire, that Emma thought they’d quickly crash together, especially after the kiss they shared at their wedding ceremony, warm and soft with the brush of stubble that set the blood in her veins aflame. Instead, but everything about it is measured. Emma knows this is because Killian would rather die than not be a gentleman to her.

She’s had enough men in her life dying, so she will take the gentleman every single day.

Even if it means a slow courting.

(It’s what her father would have wanted.)

Emma knows this is what she needs, but her emotions are erratic and inconsistent, and every day she both wants to be intimate with Killian while also screaming at him for leaving her all those years go. She’s always considered herself to be even-tempered, but there’s something about him…

Killian frustrates her.

But in all of the best ways.

He doesn’t move in immediately. His work isn’t particularly close to the estate, but after a few weeks of him traveling back and forth every few days, Killian settles into a guest room they have and works out of her father’s study. Everything about it is strange – from having someone she’s not accustomed to being in the house to her father’s study being occupied again after dust collected in it to wondering what exactly she and Killian are doing with each other.

What would her life be like if Killian hadn’t shown up when he did and she’d married Neal? The entire Cassidy family has tried to ruin her name lately, and she can’t say she blames them after she left Neal at the altar. She also can’t say she would have liked to be his wife.

What would her life be like if she and Killian had never separated before getting married? Would they still be sleeping in separate bedrooms? Would his fingers only lightly brush hers as they pass each other in the hallways or would their fingers twine together as they walk together, side by side?

There’s no use in silly questions like that, however, and despite the swell of thoughts ruminating within her, Emma moves on with her life like she always has instead of simply focusing on the man who shares her breakfast table.

In the mornings, they eat breakfast together, usually with just the two of them, but sometimes her mother joins them. Killian drinks coffee with no sugar, which she finds repulsing, while reading the paper, and she drinks her coffee full of creams and sugars and tends to talk with Ruby over plans for dinner. Occasionally Killian will comment with a tease of her eating habits, and like the lady she is, she sticks her tongue out at him. When he winks in response, Emma feels fire dig deep in her belly.

Killian often spends his entire day working, whether that be in the study or miles away at the docks, and Emma spends her days with her mother, reading, writing, and occasionally painting all the while she spends time in the gardens. Her horses have received extra care as of late, her rides lasting longer and longer into the evenings while the sky is cast in an orange glow, and after a month of taking her trail rides by herself, Killian asks if he may join her.

She says yes, half out of obligation and half out of wanting to know why the hell he continues to insist doing things in such a proper manner. They’re married. She has feelings for him, feelings that are verging on love now that they’ve spent time together, and they’ve been given this second chance.

What if the second chance were to slip through her fingers? What if another accident were to occur while Killian was out at work? What if she were no longer able to see him chewing on his pen in the middle of his work day or hear the lilt of his voice as he reads with her at night? What if –

“What would you like to do with your life, my darling?”

“Hmm?”

“Your life,” Killian repeats. Emma slows her horse down and inches closer to Killian so that she can hear him over the whistle of the wind and the tapping of hooves. It’s chilled outside, the late November weather coming in with a fury, and they’re both wrapped up in knitted coats and scarves. Killian has on a wide-brimmed hat to block out the winter sun, and the tip of his nose is reddened from the chill. “I want you to be happy with your choices, and I don’t want you to think that all I expect of you is to cook and clean and raise children. You’re my partner, and I think if you have a passion, you should pursue it.”

Emma stalls her horse until Killian’s stops as well. “You want to know what my passion is?”

“Aye.”

Emma’s cheeks heat, and she looks away out to the sunlight glinting off the water. “I’m not sure. I don’t – my parents, as progressive as they could be, never expected me to be more than a wife. All I know to do is run a household. I’ve always been terrible with arithmetic and…I don’t know.”

Killian arches a brow. “Certainly that’s not true, love. You’re excellent in the gardens, have a sharp wit, and I’ve managed to see a painting or two in your studio. You’re brilliant, Emma.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“You are.” His hand reaches over until he’s holding onto her palm. She can feel the warmth of him through their gloves. “I would hang your portraits across my entire home even if you weren’t my wife.”

“Liar.”

“I am not,” Killian gasps, mockingly. “I’m telling the truth. I think people would pay a true commission for your work, and I could go around telling everyone that my wife was the brilliant mind behind the artwork that fills the town.”

“Oh, so what? You’re only using me for money and bragging rights?”

“No,” he promises, before placing a delicate kiss on the back of her hand. Her heart is absolutely hammering. “I’m asking about your passions because I’m serious about you pursuing them. I’ll be working quite a bit for the next few years as I settle myself into the company, and as much as I fully plan on spending time with you and courting you properly, I want you to be happy outside of me.”

Emma hums and brushes her free hand over the mane sitting in front of her. There are so many things about the world that interest her, and she’s not sure what her passion is. Maybe it is one of the things Killian listed. Maybe it’s something else. She doesn’t know, but she would like to find out.

The fact that she’s getting an opportunity without having to punch through walls and scratch her nails against the metaphorical doors is nearly magical.

“I think,” she begins, “I’d like to get a few more supplies for painting, if that’s alright.”

“Like I’ve told you, whatever your heart desires, love. I promise that’s all I want you to have.”

“Painting,” Emma sighs, “definitely painting. And maybe to plant a flower garden near the lake once winter passes in honor of Papa. Oh, and more hot chocolate!”

Killian laughs and nods his head. “Anything else?”

“I think maybe I’d like you to speed up your courting of me. You wouldn’t want to go too slow. A girl might get anxious and move on.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm,” she says coyly as she kicks her horse in the side to get her to start moving, quickly heading away from Killian so that she has to yell as she rides away. “So you damn well better catch up.”

-/-

Killian takes her to shop for more paints and new brushes the next day.

He also kisses her within an inch of her life before bidding her a goodnight outside her bedroom door.

Emma goes to sleep with a saccharine smile on her lips and an ache between her thighs, and she’s not sure which thrills her more.

-/-

Once December begins, Emma and Mary Margaret fill their home with poinsettias and extra candles, adding new curtains and table cloths to each and every room. They convince Killian to go with them to the woods to find a Christmas tree like they always did with David, and while it’s not the same, it’s something. Her father may not be able to be here with them physically, but he’s still there.

He’d love Killian now even more than he did before. Of that, Emma is sure.

She’s also sure that she loves Killian now. It feels almost the same as before, like a constant thrill in her heart and gooseflesh on her skin, and her mind seems to drift to thoughts of him whether he’s in the same room as her or not.

It’s the middle of December, and the two of them are lounging in the sitting room, a fire roaring in front of them and white snow coating the ground outside. She has her head resting in Killian’s lap and a blanket tugged up over her while his hand rests on a bare inch of skin in between her blouse and the trousers she decided to wear today. His touch is as electrifying as always, and she feels it over every inch of her.

“Sometimes we’d celebrate the holidays,” Killian says, answering her question about his time in the Navy, “but it’d usually be delayed until we were on dry land. The most we could usually do was down a bottle of smuggled rum in our cabins, so it wouldn’t be like it is this year with gifts and spending time with our families.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“It could be.” His hand runs along her waist, sneaking up underneath her shirt until his palm is resting flat on her stomach. She tries not to let her breath hitch, to keep everything steady. “I much prefer being home with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” Killian promises, his accent dragging along on the words. “Nothing or no one is as lovely as you, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my holidays with than you.”

Emma’s cheeks must be as red as the curtains covering the windows. “Why’d you leave then? All those years ago? You could have stayed here. You didn’t have to join the Royal Navy.”

Killian sighs, and his hand stills against her stomach while he shifts his weight, looking away from her so that she can see the tick of his jaw from the underside. “Emma, as wonderful as your parents are, they never would have allowed me to court or marry you had I stayed under their employ. I wanted to better myself for you.”

“Killian – ”

He quickly looks down at her, lips pressed into the softest smile she’s ever seen and his blue eyes sparkle in the firelight. “I wanted to be good enough for you.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat and blinks back tears as she shifts on the lounge until she’s slipping away from his touch. Killian coughs and reaches up to scratch behind his ear, obviously nervous, and she tugs his wrist away as she settles herself down on his lips, knees on either side of his thighs. Emma swears his eyes bulge at her touch, and Emma would laugh if she didn’t need Killian to know that she is serious about her next words.

Cupping his cheeks and feeling the rough brush of his beard against her palms, Emma leans forward to press her lips against Killian’s. He opens for her almost immediately with a small, surprised sigh, and she tastes chocolate and the slightest bit of spiced rum on his lips. He is everything to her, always has been, and she could lose herself in him forever.

“Killian Jones, my husband,” she speaks against his lips while their foreheads touch together and a pleasant heat swells over her, “you were always good enough for me, and I don’t want to hear a word protesting that.”

“Not a word?”

“Not a single world, not multiple words, no words. It is fact no matter what you may think. My heart has always been yours even when it wasn’t.”

His hand runs against her back, pulling her body closer to his, and Emma is sure Killian can hear her heart beating. She can feel his.

“Who knew you were one for romance, Mrs. Jones?”

“You did. You always have.” She kisses him again, quick and dirty, and Killian growls before chasing her lips. She doesn’t let him catch her. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it again.”

Killian’s lashes brush against hers when he blinks, and she can practically feel his smile in his words. “Please never apologize for your feelings. That is not…I am not…I love you in a way I never thought possible, Emma. I would have waited forever for you even if you never felt that way about me again.”

“It’s likely a good thing I only kept you waiting two months.”

His laugh is delightful and alights her body with joy until she’s laughing as well.

Before she knows it, Killian’s hands have slipped underneath her shirt once more, and she feels the warmth of his skin against her as he kisses her, soft and slow. Her mind is filled with thoughts and words and more conversation than two people can have in a night, but then Killian is groaning when he realizes that she’s been without any undergarments tonight and there are no thoughts other than those of her wanting him.

And loving him.

Emma can’t stop kissing him, can’t stop feeling the softness of his mouth and the skill of his tongue, and when his shirt lifts over his head, she can finally see the broad expanse of his chest and how it’s changed over the years. His muscles are slim but still defined, and the patches of black chest hair have grown in thicker and softer. She could run her hands through his hair for days.

But she can also feel where Killian wants her, where his manhood is pressing through his trousers and is warming her thigh, and though it’s been a long time and she’s married now, Emma feels the slightest fluttering of nerves hit in her belly. Killian seems to feel it too, seems to know what’s in her mind without her expressing the words out loud, and he pulls back from their kiss to look her in the eyes.

How is it possible for one man’s eyes to be so blue? She’s tried to paint them, but she can’t seem to find the right color.

It’s perfectly and undeniably him.

“Are you certain, Emma?” Killian whispers as the fire cracks behind them. “We don’t have to be intimate with each other now. I’m more than willing to wait.” Emma smirks and rolls her hips over Killian’s, feeling how much he doesn’t want to wait. When he hisses, she can barely hold back her laugh. “Bloody hell, love.”

All Emma has to say is, “I’m certain.”

Slowly, slowly, slowly she and Killian strip each other out of their remaining clothes. Every touch burns warmer than the fire and every kiss lights her skin like the moon shining through the window. Emma’s heart is pounding, nerves and anticipation and love filling her, and when Killian settles them both down on blankets on the floor, no part of her cares that she can feel the slightest imprint of the hardwood pressing into her back. There is nothing and no one but she and Killian in this moment.

There is nothing and no one other than the feeling of Killian running his fingers through her center, riling her up and making her ache in more want than she’s felt in a good many days. His touch was once a distant memory, something she could only relieve in faded flashbacks and hopeful wants of him returning, but none of that matters now.

He’s here, and her imagination and her memories could never compare to the reality.

Swallowing, Emma focus on Killian’s face as he hovers above her, but then he’s moving and kissing her shoulder, running his tongue under her collarbone, and she melts into the blankets until they’re one. She does the same with Killian slowly slides into her. He looks at her as he does so, wide blue eyes full of concern, but she nods her head and smiles to try to encourage him, to let him know that she’s perfectly alright.

In fact, she’s more than alright. The slight burn turns into her feeling nearly unbearably full, the warm thickness of him inside of her again is better than all of her dreams, and when Killian kisses her again, swirling his tongue around hers, any breathe that she had is surely gone.

Killian begins moving in slow gentle rocks of his hips pressed into hers, and Emma’s blood runs hot, pleasure building almost too quickly. She’d nearly forgotten what this felt like, and a part of her knows that it’s because it’s been so long since they were last together. Another part of her knows is that because it was different then. Everything about them was different.

It’s a new start, a new life, and it reminds her of how glad she is that she didn’t tell him she loved him on their wedding day. It would have been a lie, no matter how much she wishes for it to be true, but it’s not a lie now.

“Your skin smells like light,” Killian sighs out on a moan that shivers down her spine. “I think you may be my sun and my stars, possibly even the moon. Any light in the world is nothing compared to you.”

The words Killian speaks to her are better than any novel or poem she could read, and if she had words, any words that so much as came close to those, she’d say them. All she has, however, is, “I love you.”

That seems to be enough, especially when Killian speaks the words back against her skin and shifts his hips so that he’s sliding deeper inside of her and making Emma choke back happy whimpers. She can feel him everywhere – from where they’re joined to the way his chest hair brushes against her breasts to his lips on hers – and she never wants it to stop. But then Killian’s hand is brushing where they’re joined, and her desire begins to boil over. Emma’s fingers curl into his hair, making it a mess, and her back arches off the ground so that she can suddenly feel the sweat dripping down her back and forming at the nape of Killian’s hair.

And then her body is stilling, gooseflesh forming on every inch of bare skin, and Emma closes her eyes as she calls out Killian’s name along with several curses she normally only uses in his presence. She has no breath, no thoughts other than how good this all feels, and how she wants Killian to feel the same way. His movements have gone from careful to hurried, and if the dirty mutterings he’s whispering in her ear are any indication, he’s almost there too.

“Fuck,” he hisses, thrusting into her. “You’re divine. Absolutely divine.”

And then he’s desperately kissing her pulling out of her all in one motion so that he spills himself on her stomach before pressing down half on top of her and half on the blankets. Either way, they’re both breathless and if Killian is anything like her, quite possibly boneless. The thought makes her bite her tongue to stifle her laugh at the dirty joke, but a small chuckle escapes her anyway and has Killian turning to look at her with his sated smile.

“What has you laughing, my love?”

“Nothing,” she lies.

Killian huffs and leans into her, hotly pressing his lips against her neck where he’s sure she can feel her hammering pulse. “I meant to have you in a bed, you know? It was going to be proper unlike all of our other times together. I was going to do this the correct way and take my time with you, but I cannot seem to help myself when you’re in my presence.”

“I feel the same way.” She presses a kiss into his sweaty hair. “This was perfect, and if you want to have me in a bed, there’s always later.”

Killian’s laugh is so loud she’s surprised the entire house doesn’t wake up. “I will always want you. Always have, always will.”

-/-

Ruby’s smile is wolfish and knowing the next morning, and Mary Margaret can barely look Emma in the eye. Maybe they did manage to wake the entire house last night.

Or maybe Killian’s resounding kiss on her lips in the middle of the kitchen and his wild hair gave it away.

-/-

Emma’s favorite place that entire winter becomes the sitting room, and in her private moments, she tries to recreate so many of the memories she has in that room with all of her loved ones on one of her canvases. They’re never quite right, but they’re something.

Besides, she’s got more memories to make.

-/-

When spring comes and the weather warms the slightest bit, Killian falls down on one knee and asks if she’d like to marry him again. Emma laughs and tells him that they’re already married, as if he could forget, but he informs her that he’d like to do this properly as well.

The two of them standing in the new planted garden by the lake with buttercups in their hair and smiles on their faces doesn’t seem like a proper wedding, but when have the two of them ever done things in a conventional way?

And it’s perfect to her. To Killian too.

-/-

Years later, the new garden on the Nolan estate – Killian never felt it fit to be called Jones even if that is their name – is fully grown and filled with yellow flowers and weeds that always seem to be overgrown. It’s where their children laugh and play and beam happiness that fills Emma with such joy that she was never sure she’d feel again.

Surely Emma’s father is looking down on them and smiling as Killian tucks loose flowers into her hair before doing the same to their children until they giggle and run away before collapsing to the ground.

They’re all happy, as is she, and for all of the things life has given her, it’s happiness for which she is most thankful.

Emma and Killian never stop getting to know each other, and for that, she is thankful too.

#yellow flowers in your hair #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #Captain Swan

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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired · 4 years

Text

some p!g-drv3 theories (spoilers obvi)

First of all I think people demonize the pg versions wayyy too much because its a good way to be le sexy in like fanfictions. And i get it, villains are hot or whatever. and also hs is a horny age to be. But even the edgiest and horniest of teens aren’t like. that sexual/monstrous. its kind of insane the portrayals people are placing

maybe this could also be like me being older bc when i was early hs i was like yea its fair to place these super mature portrayals on a 18-22 year old they are like adults but young and now im that age and im like woah there pardner. might be an age/maturity thing.

also like its normal for people to relate to and portray characters their same age in a similar fashion, but when adults write more sexual content about the dg kids i get hella fucking sus

idk where i was going with that first comment i guess its like a preface and in the end i think its important when characters especially teenage characters are morally grey not because they’re mature and dark/brooding but because they are still young and learning. fuck im older than like most of them, but im still young and learning. its good to be in turmoil and confused, especially the drv3 cast. they are more confused than anything.

which i think is a reason why people would join dr because if you are completely loss and in turmoil, it is appealing to be given a purpose in life and amazing talents/abilities. despite the morals of danganronpa, it is a simple reality to be told who you are and what to do

OK ONTO HEADCANONS (not doing all bc i dont have thoughts about all)

first of all i understand changing stories but i think, deep down, you can’t change fundamental personalities/values. so while the backstories might be different i think, in the end, a baseline is always the same

SHUICHI being a Bad Boy is like canon obviously but i dont think he’s as manipulative as people make him out to be. i think he falls in the more the bully role that like. mae borowski or tf2′s scout filled before they grew up. rough background, bad anger issues, lots of emotional turmoil, and the only way he knows how to deal with shit is by committing crimes and beating the shit out of people. and, similar to those characters, drv3 represents an older, more emotionally sober yet equally confused version of himself. the urges are still there as foreshadowed in the dialogue. i think he struggles with guilt, mostly survivors, but there is still a lasting impact of guilt of what he did in his past, even if he can’t remember.

KOKICHI is a child. a piece of shit motherfucker child but a child. I really do think he’s like one of the youngest people in the cast. he reminds me a lot of when my brother doesn’t take his adhd medicine and takes jokes way too far and does mean and cruel things because he thinks its funny and that its just a fun joke, but is hurting people. he desperately wants approval, which is why his leader role is so interesting because in the dr narrative he has the approval he craves and so he is satisfied. still, he does try to impress characters like rantaro and values his opinions a lot, even developing a brotherly relationship in the time they knew each other. this being said, its established kokichi was bullied before, but i dont think he’s like. the wimp people make him out to be. i think he’s more of like the class clown who desperately uses humor to make people like him, and ends up resorting to be the butt of most of his jokes. you don’t just develop a good sense of humor out of a brainwash, and that’s not something you can program in. i think that was a remnant of before, and he’s so good at bullying people and coming up with roasts - i just think that in p!g the roasts were about him.

KAEDE is baby but her p!g personality seriously reminds me of any ~quirky/edgy~ girl in a teen coming of age story who tries to be edgy and cool and act like she doesn’t care but deep down, she really does. if she didn’t have an empathetic personality, she wouldn’t want to end the game. i also think she has that self-identifying QuIrKy personality because its like she lives in her own narrative, practically announcing this story is about her and she is the protagonist. i know i used to self narrate like that and distinguish how i was different when i was like. 15-16. she has a tumblr.

I really like the theory where KAITO is a make-a-wish kid who was better when he was younger but relapses later in teens. he never used his wish before, so he decides to use it now to be on danganronpa and become the hero he always wanted to be. i also think he might have joined as a way to raise awareness about adolescent healthcare. definitely the type who puts on a “heroic” character to make everyone else feel better about the fact he is literally dying of a terminal illness, and keeps that act up till the end.

i think KOREKIYO is still a serial killer. i think honestly a reason why he mightve auditioned for danganronpa is because he is a serial killer. maybe his sister found out and he felt so much shame that’s why he auditioned. he probably mentioned why in his interview because duh, tell them im a serial killer and then only reason im coming clean is my sister found out and im ashamed, that is like a guarantee to get on the show. i LOVE the theory that his sister is still alive, however, and has to watch her brother go insane because they wrote her into the story as the villain. because technically, she brought on this guilt, and is the reason why he auditioned - as a way to cause despair, twist it around so she’s the one to blame for his insanity. also, because its pretty accepted DR members become celebrities, kork’s sister is totally bombarded with paparazzi and is demonized in the media. she might end up writing a tell-all memoir about kork’s actual childhood and personality. quiet kid, thoughtful, interested in anthropology, she never thought he’d hurt a fly. watching her brother go insane probably destroyed her.

I also think, timeline wise, kork is probably one of the oldest members along with rantaro. tbh i think kork actually graduated hs and went on a gap year doing the whole “hitchhike around the world to discover myself thing” which is where he began killing people. he was getting ready to go to college when his sister found out about what he did. this is when he decided to go on danganronpa instead of university. this would help explain why he knows so much about other cultures/travel/been so many places with so many memories/killed/is knowledgable on a level most other students are not. this would place him at like, 20-21, where everyone else is like 15-18.

ok so there’s two p!g RANTARO, p!g before 53 and p!p!g before 52. i’d like to establish now i think rantaro is the oldest of the characters, seeing as though he was already pretty old to begin with in 52, it takes time between television seasons, and he was in another game. so im placing him like 21-23, similar to yasuhiro in d1 being so much older than everyone else. i do think, in all iterations, rantaro was pretty much raising his sisters, though i don’t think he had twelve like the story (i think that’s an exaggeration, his sisters mean a lot to him, lets make him have a TON and then lose them all and feel GUILTY) rantaro joined the first game, partially to get money for his family and hopefully establish them as celebrities and let them have a comfy lifestyle, even if he doesn’t live...and also to finally ahve some sort of experience without his siblings tagging along. if he’s been raising his sisters all his life, he’s never had like something that’s JUST his. that’s his adventure. 52 is his ULTIMATE adventure. ahaha. mostly for money, kind of dreading it, still a tiny bit excited

ok p!g rantaro between 52 and 53 probably came back broken. he did the signings and appearances, but mostly wanted to spend time with his family and make sure they were set up. i think he knew the whole like few months between seasons he had to go on another show, but he did’t tell his sisters. his family found out when they saw a billboard with his face plastered on it hyping up the return of a fan favorite. yikes!

ok i get it a lot of people hate HIMIKO but i think she’s not nearly as similar as other “useless” characters in other games. its like, pretty clear she’s depressed, and the only thing she’s holding onto with dear life is magic. lack of hygiene, lack of personal care, constantly tired, social interaction exhausts - she has depression, but she’s not an UWU depressed character. so people find her depressive traits (which are some of the most realistic portrayals of mental health in the series) SUPER annoygin. she joined dr because she was completely lost and needed some sort of direction in her life, even if she’ll die for it. the thing is, even with direction, her mental state didn’t change because she wasn’t getting legitimate help. it’s like that one SNL skit that’s like. same sad you from before but in a new place. i also think she knows the magic is not real, because how could she not. i think she’s so adamant that it IS real, less as a way to convince others, and more of a way to convince herself. it’s like really super cruel that team danganronpa took a girl who is desperate for meaning and gave her literally a meaningless, fake talent.

i also kin himiko and find her a comfort character because i feel seen by her, replacing her useless talent of magic with mine of like shitty film making and comedy. i am seen.

related i don’t think she’s nearly as ugly as everyone says she is, i think she’s probably just depressed and takes absolutely no care of her hygiene and sleep and looks like sick and greasy all the time. same queen.

honest to god i think RYOMA’s backstory, tennis and all, is like 100% real and he’s the only one who keeps all of his memories except for the fact this is a tv show. i think he rolled up, a hot fucking mess, and the danganronpa team were like damn. we cannot improve upon this.

#ryoma hoshi #himiko yumeno #rantaro amami #korekiyo shinguji #kaito momota #kaede akamatsu #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #drv3 #killing harmony #pg dr #pre!game danganronpa #danganronpa #theories #danganronpa spoilers

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 111

Chapter Summary - As Tom readies for Hamlet, he makes plans with Danielle for after it, the only issue is, his idea meets a minor roadblock when Danielle reminds him he did similar, just a year ago, with someone else.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle hummed to herself as she pulled the clothes from the washing machine. Tom was in the kitchen doing the dishes and between them, they had pretty much everything in the house done by the afternoon. Their busy schedules had meant that both of them had been slacking on the house chores, with all their spare time being set aside for looking after Mac when neither of them were working, the had become somewhat behind on them. As they worked, Mac went between the pair, as though he was supervising them.

‘ Elle?’ Tom walked into the kitchen. ‘I need to talk to you about the tickets.’

‘What ones?’

‘Hamlet.’

‘You mean how they're going by raffle?’

‘Yeah, how did you know about that?’

‘Because I have my phone set to alert me of anything to do with it? But also because, as I said, Amelia is a big fan of yours and she made mention that she is put herself into the raffle.’

‘I should have thought of that actually,’ Tom stated. ‘It means that I can't get you a ticket.’

‘I know, I put myself into the raffle, I might be lucky. Considering how everything is going for me recently I'm probably going to get about forty tickets.’ she laughed.

Tom found himself chuckling as well, ‘You very well could. Speaking of your good fortune, didn't you mention you were changing car?’

‘Yeah, I was going to go at the weekend and take a look at a few, why?’

‘Just asking, to be honest, I was hoping I could come along.’

‘Aren’t you busy though, with the play and everything?’

‘I have to learn my lines, but there's no costume for this one, so no fittings, just learning. Then next week, we’re starting to work in bringing it all together.’

‘Are you excited?’

‘I am actually, it's sort of seen as a rite of passage, doing Hamlet.’

‘If you put half the effort into that as you did into Coriolanus, it will be incredible.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘I don't know how you do it.’

‘What, learn the lines?’

‘Well that too, but the confidence, the way you carry yourself on stage, you don't need me to tell you, and I know I'm not exactly the most qualified person to say, but I think it's absolutely amazing how you do it.’

Tom gave her an almost confused look, ‘What do you mean you're not exactly the most qualified person, no one is the most qualified person, a person with a degree, a masters, and a PhD in Shakespearean literature may understand the work more than most, but it does not make them more qualified than any other person as to what an individual likes and dislikes. And if I'm perfectly honest, your opinion matters a lot more to me than most every critic that will write up about this. You and my family mean the most to me ergo your opinions mean the most to me. One thing about you, mum, Emma and Sarah that on occasion has driven me insane but also I adore more than anything else is your brutal honesty. I am my greatest critic, you guys genuinely give me your opinions because you know I want the truth and because you want to see me get better at my job.’

‘Now I'm worried, I feel like I need to criticise you.’ Danielle joked sticking her tongue out between her teeth. ‘Or does that throw me into the cliche of the nagging partner?’

‘I don't think you to be nagging.’

‘So what is my worst issue, or should I ask?’

‘Duvet stealing, I have never suffered a case of duvet sausage rolling quite like you before, please note I went to a boarding school.’

‘I will not apologise for enjoying comfort in bed.’ Danielle’s eyes shifted side to side as she responded.

Tom chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her, ‘I wouldn't expect you to.’ He kissed her for a moment before he pulled back his eyes bright with an idea. ‘What would you say, when after the Hamlet run is done and before the Early Man and Ragnarok promotions start, you and I go away for a few days?’

‘ Where are you thinking, Suffolk, your dad's, Ireland?’

‘ No, I think we deserve a little further afield this time.’

‘How far are we speaking?’

Tom paused for a moment to think about it, ‘Somewhere in Europe maybe, is there any way you actually want to go?’

‘Well, the usual places, Paris, Berlin, Rome, Barcelona...Could you imagine people's faces of the two of us turned up in Rome? How many comparisons do you think would be made?’ She found herself giggling at the thought. Tom, on the other hand, looked somewhat bemused. ‘What, it's true, they would.’

‘The only reason we went there was because she was having business discussions regarding releases of albums and dates of which they were being released with a few friends of hers including Ed Sheeran, that's how I heard his music that time before it came out.’

‘Tom, how many times do I have to tell you I don't want to know. You don't have to explain it to me, I honestly don't want to know.’

‘You're upset by this?’ Tom realised, noting the change of her tone and her manner as she walked away from him. He followed immediately after her. ‘Elle?’

‘Well, you hardly expect me to be thrilled that one of the places I've always wanted to see as soon as I go there, if I were to go there with you, people would immediately reference the whole situation with her and like every other person I don't want to be laughed at, Tom. There is no one I would rather see Rome with but to me, it’s lost a bit of its appeal now.’ She shrugged and gave him an apologetic face before she left the room.

Tom paused and thought about what she said, it was true, if they did go to Rome, people would immediately correlate it with his time there with Taylor. How in the world was Danielle supposed to enjoy the trip if all the people would be speaking about would be the like this of it to the time he went there before. Sighing to himself and putting his hands behind his head, he thought about it for a moment more before following Danielle back into the main part of the house and looking for her. Hearing the sound of her moving about upstairs he quickly made his way up taking the stairs two steps at a time. When he arrived up, he made his way to their bedroom and stood in the doorway watching Danielle folding different laundry and placing it on the bed to be organised in the correct part of the room. ‘I'm sorry, I have taken that from us haven't I?’

‘There wasn't an “us” then to take it from though, was there? You didn't cheat on me by bringing her there or her bringing you there, whatever way it was, so there's no need to apologise.’

‘But it hurts?’

‘Yes, as childish as it seems, in some ways, it does hurt.’

‘Then, for that, I apologize, because as it stands, that hurts you and that is a result of my actions.’

‘We could spend today arguing about this but I don't want to. if you feel an unrelenting need to apologise then fine but I think it's a waste of time, I don't think you have something to apologize for.’ she stated as she put his dark blue v neck jumper down on the bed folded. ‘I do think it would be lovely for us to go away.’

‘But Rome is out?’

‘For now I think it's best, I am going to get there and I do think it will be with you, but I don't think I could handle the comments that would arise as a result right now, how I am gullible to let you bring me there and how you're a slimy bastard for bringing two girls there, a year apart. Is there anywhere you would want to go?’

‘I will bring you to Rome,’ Tom promised. ‘When the time is right, I am taking you there. But for now, perhaps Paris would be nice. What can they say about that?’

Danielle laughed, ‘I don't think you are setting them much of a challenge for that one, I think we could actually start a pool before we even go with our friends. I would bet that the highest likely to occur comments will be; didn't you admit to bringing a girlfriend there before or was that you surprised her there before when you were younger, and the other like you want, would more than likely include you brought me there to ask me to marry you, in which case, we will probably be on “bump watch”.’

‘I know I'm going to regret this but what the hell is “bump watch”?’

‘Well considering the amount of time we are together, and the fact that you and Ben are somewhat similar, and how he would never be seen to have had Kit outside of marriage with Sophie, people are going to assume that you brought me there to propose to me and the reason for which is more than likely because I would be pregnant.’

‘Are you sure you're not reading too much into this?’

‘Tom I don't know if Luke is telling you this, but every other day people are trying to figure out whether or not I am pregnant there is a Tumblr page and all to this. Because for some reason, the fact that I do not wear tight-fitting clothing, and the fact that I am not a stick figure, people are assuming that I am pregnant.’

‘Wait, what, since when?’

‘Since it came out that we’re together, honestly Tom, I know you don't pay attention to these things, but at one stage, there were some out there, including trash papers, accusing you of having both myself and Swift pregnant. To some people, you're just a baby making machine,’ Danielle laughed, enjoying the perturbed look on Tom’s face search comments. ‘But enough silliness, Paris sounds like an incredible idea, when are we going?’

Shaking his head slightly to cease focusing on the preposterous, Tom gave her a wolfish grin. ‘You sorted Ireland, I'm sorting this.’

‘I'm not going to lie, that statement worries me.’

‘Are you saying you don't trust me?’

‘I'm saying I don't trust you to stay within a reasonable budget.’

‘Holidays shouldn't have budgets, not for too hard-working individuals like ourselves who deserve it.’

‘And that has left me even more scared.’ Danielle shuddered to think what it was that Tom was planning.

Tom's grin grew even more, ‘Really?’ He skulked forward towards her.

‘Tom no, I have literally just folded...Tom!’ Playfully, Tom tackled her onto the bed and in turn, onto the fresh washing. ‘The laundry.’

‘That can be refolded,’ Tom dismissed, using his strong arms to cage around her, he leant down and kiss her for a moment, ‘Actually, I think you may need to fold more than just the clothes when I'm finished with you.’ He grinned as he kissed her again, this time one of his hands making the way up the hem of her shirt, hers going through his hair.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 111 #wolfpawn #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

✻ Ichi-go, Ichi-e (Baekhyun Byun) Gets Better

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slice of Life

Word Count: 1,241

Pairing: Reader x Baekhyun

World: EXO

Prompt: #22, “It’ll get better, right?”

Author’s Note: This was written for @challengingwords writing challenge.

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“Calm down and tell me what happened.” Baekhyun gently took you by the shoulders, his concerned eyes meeting yours.

You shook your head angrily and he was sure he could see steam coming from your ears. “No, you won’t understand!”

“You won’t know that until you tell me.” His lips met your forehead. “Breathe, baby. In and out.”

You mirrored his deep breathing, your head feeling lighter as your anger lowered to annoyance. He slid the desk chair over, motioning for you to take a seat as he kneeled in front of you, holding onto your knees to steady himself.

“Now, tell me how you feel.”

You rolled your eyes at the amused glint in his own orbs. “Not funny, Baek.”

He pouted. “You don’t like the idea of me being your therapist?”

“Pretty sure it’s morally wrong to sleep with your patients.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too, Byun Baekhyun.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He wrinkled his nose, lightly smacking your outer thigh. “Stop avoiding the subject. Tell me or I’ll be forced to cuddling you until you give me the info I want!”

Despite yourself, you smiled which made him beam with pride at his accomplishment. “I hate you,” ‘Because you always make me smile no matter how upset I am,’

“Hmm, my spidey senses say otherwise.” Baekhyun wiggled his eyebrows.

“Ew,”

“Y/N~”

“Fine!” You threw your head back and began to recall your story of woe.

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You loved to write stories and chose to post them on a site called Tumblr because you liked being able to customize your blog. What you chose to write was mostly fanfiction about your favorite fandoms, which helped you to meet people that thought the say way you did and liked the same things. Baekhyun didn’t know anything about this site that its users called a hell-site, but being the supportive boyfriend that he is, he always patiently listened to you every time you needed to rant about the site.

And Tumblr certainly is not a site without its fair share of problems.

You liked to keep your queue rather full so you didn’t spam your followers. That way, if you had a long day or simply didn’t feel like posting, you could relax without having to worry. You pulled up your masterlist so you update it with that day’s posts, but when you clicked on the link, however, a sense of dread filled your body. The once colorful links were now white, the default text color for your theme. Why were the links gone? You had over three-hundred stories at this point and the links were gone.

You were on the verge of panicking.

Had you messed up something when you edited the post yesterday? You were sure you hadn’t, so then why? Trying to calm yourself, you messaged your friend, sending the link and asking them to see if the links were there for them. Surprisingly, she reported that the links were fine, all intact as they should be. She also reported, though, that she believed the site had a link limit per post and guessed the number to be around one hundred.

You tried pulling up the post on your phone – the links were intact and working as they should be. So then, why were the links whited out when you pulled the post up on your computer? ‘Well… as long as my followers can see them,’ you frowned at the screen, trying to put it out of your mind.

After adding the new links, you clicked over to the tags page, relieved to see the colorful links, but after adding a couple new tags and saving, they also whited out. “You have got to be kidding me…”

You quickly debated with yourself on created an external list somewhere because the thought of having multiple masterlists and a rabbit hole of links per fandom made you feel queasy, but you worried that your followers would not be happy with a masterlist on a site outside of Tumblr. And then you remembered the existence of pages.

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“It’ll get better, right?” Baekyun interrupted you, feeling his temples start to throb at the tale.

“Shush, you’re ruining the mood!” You cleared your throat, picking up where you left off.

Baekyun felt like his mind was going insane, but he remained quiet, trying to keep up with the words leaving your lips.

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If you just added a new page with your theme rather than getting fancy with customized HTML, it should work just fine for mobile users. At first, you simply copy-pasted the list, but that did not work – for some reason, it made the text black which could barely be seen against the dark grey background of the post.

With a scowl, you deleted the page and tried again. ‘Okay, paste as plain text, then… yes, it worked!’ While the links were not there, all of the text was, which would save you some time. You did feel slightly annoyed by the lack of a header option, though, but it was fine because the preview looked quite nice, so you continued your work.

It took you nearly three hours, with distractions, to finally re-link everything and clean up your blog. The preview was perfect so you saved the page, feeling excited to finally look upon your hard work. You copied the link to the page, pasted it into the browser, and clicked enter.

Your heart sunk like the damn titanic.

The links were whited out, not a single one intact.

“Son of a bitch!” Your face fell to the keyboard with a thunk and you groaned, a mixture of frustration and pain coursing through you. “Stupid, idiotic, bastard hell-site! Why are you like this, huh?! Why are you doing this to me, huh?! Are you trying to make me lose it?!”

Baekhyun cautiously slipped into the roam, unsure how to feel as he watched his partner gripping both sides of the computer monitor, screaming questions at it as if it weren’t just an inanimate object. He had seen you freak out at the computer on more than a couple of occasions, but this? This was definitely new.

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“And that’s when you stopped me.” You huffed in annoyance, folding your arms across your chest as you sent your boyfriend an accusing look.

“Babe… I stopped you because you picked up a bat.”

“And? It was just wood, it would’ve been fine.”

He sighed, bringing his hand to his forehead. “That computer is expensive, you know.”

“It’s Tumblr’s fault for being such a dick!”

“If the site upsets you so much, why don’t you just stop using it?”

You recoiled back as if he had just made a move to strike you, the wheeled chair sliding back a bit. “I could never do that, Baek!”

“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because I love it, obviously!” You responded matter-of-factly, sending him a look as if he should know this information.

Baekhyun deadpanned. “Why am I dating you again?”

“Because you love me~” You grinned, sliding the chair back over to him.

“That’s debatable.” He tried to keep a straight face but failed, lips curling up into a smile as he pulled you into his arms. You returned the smile, hand gripping his so you could bring it to your lips, planting a soft kiss upon his knuckles.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

If you enjoy my writing, please considering tipping me on Kofi or Cashapp. Every little bit helps and means a lot, thank you so much ^~^)/ If you can’t afford to do so, that’s okay, too, thanks for reading!

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The term “Ichi-go, Ichi-e” literally means “one time, one moment”. As explained in [this] article, it is meant to act as a reminder that we should treasure every moment because it will never recur again. I thought that was beautiful, so I decided to use that as the title for this set.

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novamm66 · 4 years

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Author Interview

I was tagged by three amazing author’s @lechatrouge673 @kagetsukai and @laraslandlockedblues. Each one gifted and creative and I can’t believe they thought of me.

Name: Marion

Fandoms: Dragon Age, I am not sure I can handle more than one at a time and DA has been an obsession of mine since I played the first game. Also, I only have so much time and I’m worried that the rabbit hole might be dangerous.

Where You Post: I post here on Tumblr as well as on AO3. I stopped posting here for a while, it was a bit discouraging but once I realized that I need to post it for myself above anyone else I got caught up.

Most Popular One-Shot: I can’t answer this one yet. I haven’t posted any of the one-shot things I have written. So my opinion pool is one. 😊 The Pic-Lits are hard to judge since they have art attached and they are very short.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: Red Sky in the Morning is my only multi-chapter story, so by default, it’s my most popular.

Favourite Story You Wrote: Red Sky is my writing journey so I have a particular soft spot for it. That being said, I am not crazy about the first bunch of chapters. They are so rough and it took me a while to find my footing. I am both proud and insanely horrified that my progression is out there for all to see. I might someday go back and rewrite the beginning but I am not allowed to do that until it’s done.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: All of it. Every single word I post scares the crap out of me. My dyslexia makes me a frustratingly slow writer and I am always afraid that I am going to make a glaringly obvious and stupid mistake that I simply couldn’t see. (You know how folks compare autocorrect to a drunken gnome [at least I do] well the writing autocorrect gnome in my head is not only drunk but on a bad trip.) Add to that a general nervousness about my content and my ability to bring emotion and storylines across. It’s scary but I do it because it’s also liberating. The more I write the more I like what I create and it’s a rush. (This post alone was a two-hour affair while waiting for my day job to start.)

How You Choose Your Titles: So far they have just presented themselves. Red Sky in the morning; Sailors take warning was a rhyme that we said a lot when I was a child on my family's boat. My dad taught me to watch the sky to the point that even now every time I see a sunrise I recite the poem and one day I just realized it was the natural title.

My only other title From Earth to Sky presented its self while I was writing and I loved it.

Complete: Nothing yet. As stated. I am slooooowww.

Incomplete: Red Sky is closer to the end than the beginning. (Yeay!) and From Earth to Sky is into chapter 5.

Do You Outline? Yes and No. I have trouble outlining on paper but I spend copious amounts of time outlining in my head. It makes sense to me in my head but the moment I write it down it doesn’t translate well and I confuse myself. I am hoping I can improve on that but we shall see.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: Well I decided that I wasn’t going to post From Earth to Sky until I had it complete. I do have another idea in the works, a Modern AU about the Inquisition Theatre company. Write what you know, right?

Do You Accept Prompts? No. I might someday but I also might not. It’s hard for me to promise a timeline on my writing and I don’t want to ever leave anyone hanging. However, I don’t think I would get that many prompts. Not that many people read my writing so it’s doubtful I would get any.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: All of them. Just the fact that I am trying to write after 3 decades of being too scared to try. (still scared but I’m winning that fight.) So everything I post is a triumph and it doesn’t matter that no one comments or likes or reblogs and very few people have read everything (excluding the amazing @lechatrouge673 who has been my editor and more my patient teacher & cheerleader. I couldn’t do any of it without you.)

But I am proud of me and that’s a big deal.

I will tag: @thejeeperswife @shannaraisles @windysuspirations @poweredbycoffeeandwine @john-cousland @pikapeppa @out-of-the-embers @a-shakespearean-in-paris @littlesnowarrow @mapplestrudel @alittlestarling @rhetoricalrogue

#nova writes #author interview #although I'm not really

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unseeliecourtjester · 4 years

Text

I'm watching the Witcher! I have thoughts but I don't want to liveblog by spamming my blog with single posts so I'm just updating this one as i go. We good? Good.

Don't read this if you haven't watched it obviously because A spoilers duh and B it is pretty much incomprehensible if you haven't (and probably also if you have lol)

I've watched 8/8 episodes

Ep 1:

And right into action we jump! Nice

Ok. Killing a monster and a helpless injured animal in the first scene, it's that kind of show.

Fun bantz with daughter and dad i presume, love that

Bombarded with exposition. What's happening?

Lots of grey morality. Like it.

Very mirrory, that eclipse girl and the wizard. Who's right who's wrong? Who knows, Im sure we'll lose either way.

Really good clothing and set design!

The soundtrack is banger after another just very very good

I knew I find manbuns and half up half down hair very sexy but man if Geralt and that wizard guy from the royal storyline don't remind me of it, thank you for your service!

The fight choreography where geralt takes those men is superb and camerawork supports it in a way that's its actually possible to follow and enjoyable to watch, great job!

Hmm okay so seems like timelines are a bit fucky, princess scenes after geralt scenes

"I love you" "find Geralt of Rivia" OUCH

Good scenes but oh man i wouldn't want my rulers to just kill themselves during an attack yikes

Not to say that those suicides make me excited and confused but well i am definitely confused and excited for the princess storyline and what the heck those nilfgard (sp?) folks want.

Ep 2.:

Poor girl. (i wonder if thats makeup or if they actually cast an actress that looks like that, which would be v good)

So weird eye colours mean stuff?

Rat boy?

YES WE MET BARD BOY! Predictably I'm in love already. What a good first interaction

*Chanting* shrek dynamic shrek dynAMIC SHREK DYNAMIC!!!

I'm wheezing they really brought onions into this 👀

Thank the makers for not showing graphic self harm scenes 🙏

Powerful magic woman giving a monologue about chaos and magic? Hnnnggg

"Here i go again delivering exposition" *snort*

Hmm. What's the issue with the races? Elves etc i mean. And what's up with the guy wjo had to give "Fiona" shoes? He's one of the "clean ones"? Oof

Poor Yennefer.

Another good speech from powerful magic woman

Count on the bard to bring the laughs. And oof those elves, theres obviously some tension there.

Being Not human not another race but a Witcher does have its perks in talks with elves.

Things like "the great cleansing" worry me

There are three plots going on rn (i think theyre at the same time by now) and my priorities are 1. Geralt 2. Yennefer and 3. Fiona though 2. And 3. Is very close.

Hands down the most unrealistic thing is how everyone can repeat that language perfectly from having heard it once.

Yennefer is a half elven?

Huh. A game of marionettes and masters. The wizard controls the boy, the magician controld the girl.

Sidenote, the magic system of channeling chaos into magic and newtons 3rd law is metal and i love it

Eels, huh? Interesting.

So taking stock we have Bard (Human) & Geralt (Witcher), Yennefer (Half elf) and Humans, and Ciri (Human) & Dara (Elf).

First two episodes are over and I'm hooked. Excuse me while I go listen to "Toss a coin to your Witcher" on repeat a few hundred times now.

Ep 3

Here we gooooo

I watched half of it on a train and was too engrossed to write about

Fuck it up Yennefer!

Boob window!

Ok wait so wait wait wait is Yennefer still a Timeline before geralt?

Oh man beauty is a difficult concept

I miss the bard

Ep 4

What's that warrior women tribe and why did the forest call ciri?

I've had the bard for a day but if anything hapoens to him I'll kille everyone in this room and then myself

I love how his song has taken off!

Fuck yeah sidequest!

If i were to describe everything i loved about that scene id have to transcribe it whole

Timelines are fuckin... Fucky

Oh now we'll find out why grandmother wanted ciri to get geralt. Guess he made an impression

Damn she's so metal

Oh btw we love when media passes the bechdel test

Aww Yennefer.

Hmm.

That has to be a gambit

Ok i just read up on the law of surprise, and like to almosr everything in this ep my reaction is "metal af"

WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

Ep 5

Are you making a humunculus?

Doppler!???!?

Oh no poor wizard man

Oh Fremdscham alter Freund

These German accents oof

Oh Yennefer

Ragamuffin LOL

Jaskier huh? Nice name

Well fuck

Right. Good.

Make him drink the water! The doppler doesn't have good intentions

Also i really hope ciri isn't promised to geralt by the law of surprise in a yucky way

I love how lust and sex is handled here

"Flora and (yikes) Fauna" oh jaskier every word out of your mouth is peak comedy

Oof that guy Yennefer is traveling with

I bet they're gonna end up being a team anyways, i mean our main characters. Some how the others will perish.

Oh doppler you're so dumb

Witcher good ending: Geralt & Yennefer make a life with Ciri (I'm sure 1. fics are being written as we speak & 2. It wont happen)

Oh man that route

There's so much suicide and suicidal ideation in this it's crazy

And: called it!

There are so many insanely good quotes

"it's hard to regret something you didn't chose" yeah

Yennefer! Don't sleep with makeup

You forgot jaskier!

Yeah the hints were there. Blorchs fancy jacket...

Why does nothing good ever last. Yennefer and Geralt are so good together

And poor jaskier

We really in it now, Ariana

Ep 7

Wow calanthe you should know by now that these foul tricks don't work

Man, geralt cant catch a break

He's such a nerd

Harsh teachers get a lot of mileage out of "You're my best student"

... And that's why it's so easily used against their students.

Fuck i really care for these characters. Especially geralt, Yennefer and jaskier.

Yennefer just wanted to send sad girls on the drug trip of their lives and they're just... Hmm.

Ideology is so dangerous when it makes sense to you

And to think, geralt was right there under cintra

Well that was... Hmm

Ep 8

We haven't seen elves in a long time

Uh... No?

I dont accept geralt dying like that and at that time

OH HELL YEAH THAT INTRO ANIMATION

There's nothing

Of everything thats happened so far, the magic, the hotness, etc etc, i feel like my biggest fantasy brought to the screen in the witcher is a powerful teacher appreciating and spending time with a former student.

(*Tissania waving a glass of ale at Yennefer* me: god i wish that were me)

Ok but what's happening with geralt?

Who is vesemir

All those magic scenes are so good

Oof they just keep missing each other

Are they gonna meet in the last scene?

... They did. In the last scene.

Colour me interested in season 2! Off to tvtropes i guess and the tumblr tag.

#the witcher #I talk #oc

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erisgregory · 5 years

Text

Come Crash Into Me Chapter 1/7

cross posted to AO3

Authors: Crysty09, erisgregory

Crysty09′s tumblr Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Relationship: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Michael Guerin, Alex Manes Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend RelationshipAngst and Fluff and Smut Summary: Michael is dreaming about an air base in Arizon but Max and Isobel don't want to look into it. So he takes his plight to Alex. Though they've just begun repairing their friendship, Alex agrees to help. Though to get on the base they will have to pretend to be a couple. What will they find at Davis-Monthan? And what will it mean for the future of their friendship?

Michael’s been having the same dream for a week. Max and Isobel have both blown him off but he can’t shake the feeling that this dream is more than it seems. It feels like a premonition, a warning. He has to find out what it means but the only clue he has is Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson, Arizona. And it’s not like he can just stroll in on his own and ask to see the aliens or alien craft or whatever it is they’re keeping over there.

So he calls Alex, asks to see him. Things are rocky still, but Michael would like to think they’d worked their way back to at least being friends. Of course Michael wants more, but he’s not pushing that. Not when he barely got Alex back in his life after kissing Maria. But he doesn’t have anyone else to ask and Max would kill him if he knew he was really planning to go there. So he heads to the cabin and hopes beyond hope that he can convince Alex to go with him on what is likely a fool’s errand.

Alex had been a bit confused when Michael called, not sure why the other male wanted to see him. They had found a quasi-comfortable place after the Maria incident, they at least didn't avoid each other anymore and he might go as far as to call them friends but he hadn't expected this.

He had busied himself with straightening up the cabin, he didn't have company often. Alex heard the truck pull in and he limped to the door, stepping out onto the porch, leaning on his crutch "Guerin?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, "everything okay?"

He hopped out of the truck and Alex met him at the door. “Yeah,” he said at first and then he shook his head. “No, not really. Can I come in?” He didn’t know how he was going to explain himself except to say it was weird alien mind stuff which he knew wasn’t exactly helpful. Still that was what he was working with. Now he just had to hope that Alex would take him more seriously than Max and Isobel had.

Alex frowned at Michael's answer, "yeah, of course," he turned and moved back into the cabin assuming Michael would follow. He moved to the kitchen, wondering what this conversation was going to be, "want a beer?" He asked, glancing back at Michael as he opened the refrigerator.

Michael followed Alex into the cabin and headed for the chair in the living room. “Yeah, that’d be great.” Michael told him. He was a little nervous, having to explain his dream and then ask for help, it might be a little much.

Grabbing two beers, Alex moved into the living room, hand one of the bottles to Michael before sitting down on the edge of the sofa, "ok Guerin," he finally said, taking a sip of his beer, he could see the nervous energy in Michael's body and he frowned, "what's going on?"

Michael wanted to drink his beer first, at least take a big swig, for the nerves, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. So he talked instead. "I've been having this dream. In it, I'm at an air force base and I'm lost. But I know I'm there looking for something important. Someone important, maybe. And I can't get to them, or it. There are signs that say keep out, and highly dangerous, and things like that, but there's also the sign for the air base. It's Davis-Monthan. I looked that up because I kept having the dream and it's real. It's in Tucson. Arizona."

Alex listened to Michael's words, frowning as he tried to focus on what he was trying to say. When Michael mentioned Davis-Monthan, the airman nodded, he knew the base Michael was talking about. "Okay?" He started, trying to piece together what Michael was saying, "so are you thinking this is some kind of weird Alien telepathy thing?" He asked, talking another drink of his beer and leaning back against the couch, "do you think there is something there like Caulfield or what?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah, I keep seeing it so I think it's... well, it's like I'm being drawn there. Like I'm supposed to go. And I know that sounds crazy." He did know and even if he hadn't known it sounded nuts Max and Isobel had made sure he got the message loud and clear. "I just didn’t think I should go without someone with a little more military experience, if you know what I mean."

For some reason, Alex didn't think what Michael was saying was all that crazy. After seeing the way the other had sensed the lives at Caulfield, the way he connected with them before he could even see them, made Alex a believer, "it doesn't actually sound that crazy to me," he shrugged as Michael continued. He suddenly realized why Michael was saying all of this and he nodded, "yeah, no showing up at an Air Force base and insisting to see the aliens is a sure fire way to get shipped off somewhere," he chuckled, "so are you saying you want me to go to Arizona with you?"

All Michael could feel was relief. Alex didn’t think he was crazy. He got it. He understood. “Yes. I’m saying, come to Arizona with me. We’ll see if there’s anything to see. If we can’t manage to get in, then at least I can say I tried.”

Alex chewed on the inside of his jaw for a moment, processing everything that he was hearing and after a brief pause, he nodded slowly, "okay, I'm in." He smiled at Michael, "let's go to Arizona and see if we can find some answers."

Michael felt something in his chest lighten at Alex's words. "Really?" he asked. "Thank you, Alex, seriously." He felt the ridiculous urge to hug Alex, but he decided it was best if he skipped that part. He wasn't really the hugging sort anyway. "When can we go?" He asked instead.

The happiness evident in Michael's voice made Alex's heart flutter ridiculously and he bit his lip. He pulled out his phone, trying to figure out the best way to get the information they wanted. "I want to do a little research about the base and who all is stationed there before we head out, so we can go in armed." He looked up at Michael, "want to hit the road first thing in the morning?" He paused for a second, "you can crash here tonight if you want and we will hit the road before first light."

"Yeah, that'd be great." Michael said. He finally felt like he could relax a bit and his knee was no longer bouncing. So he leaned back on the couch and let out a huge sigh. "I thought for sure this was going to be harder."

Alex smiled at Michael, chuckling quietly, "what did you think I was going to call you insane? That I wouldn't see how important this was to you?" He raised his eyebrows, "Michael, I have seen and heard a lot of things lately that should be considered crazy, and they were all real, why would I expect this to be any different," he ran a hand through his hair.

Michael flashed him a smile. "I know you're right, but you might doubt things if you'd heard what Max was saying. Then again, maybe you wouldn't. I don't know why Max and Isobel are so against this, but they are and so I've had to just go around them. They don't know I'm here or that I'm really planning to go. I appreciate the hell out of you right now Alex."

His heart stuttered at Michael's smile, it wasn't something he got to see as much as he would like. "I would say Max and Isobel are just concerned about you, they don't want you to put yourself in danger." He thought about it, "I am not sure this is as important to them as it is to you either," he shrugged, "you have more questions about where you're from than they do." He smiled at Michael, "and I will do anything I can to help you find those answers."

"You're probably right, but it doesn't make it less annoying." Michael told him. "Thank you, seriously." Michael couldn't help but feel fondness for Alex creeping back in. He'd told himself he could be over it, he just had to ignore it for long enough, but deep down he knew that if ten years hadn't erased it a couple of months wouldn't either. Still he wouldn't think of jeopardizing what they had now for his own messed up feelings. Alex was too important to him.

"Yeah of course," he smiled, taking a sip of his beer. He had missed this, just hanging out with Michael, both of them relaxed and he busied himself with picking the label on his beer for a few moments pushing down his feelings for the other. Alex took a breath, grabbing his laptop, "so tell me about your dreams?"

Michael took a drink from his beer finally and then let his head drop back on the sofa. “They’re strange. Not exactly the same every time. I see the sign for the base and the guard house. Sometimes I’m in a hangar and sometimes I’m in an office, but I’m always looking for something, being drawn toward something. It calls to me, I can’t explain it. But then I always wake up before I find it.”

While Michael talked, Alex was typing, researching the base, trying to find out basic information to start with. He had sent out a few messages before and his phone dinged, he looked down and smiled, "perfect," he breathed, looking up at Michael with a grin, "so a few members of my old squadron are stationed at Davis-Monthan so I think I can actually get us into the motel on base." His eyes were shining with excitement, "then maybe once we're in you will be able to sense whatever we are looking for."

At this, Michael lifted his head. “Yeah? That’s genius!” He was really starting to get excited now. Alex was definitely the man for the job, he was so glad he’d trusted this to him. “How about I buy you dinner? We can pick up something or does anyone deliver this far out?”

Alex kept grinning, running a hand through his hair, "yeah, let's go get something to eat," he slowly stood up, sending another message, "no one delivers out here, we are in the middle of nowhere." He laughed.

Michael laughed, he’d figured as much. He finished his beer and stood. “What’re you in the mood for?” He asked. This felt good just being with Alex. He was so glad he still got to have this.

He grabbed Michael's beer bottle, making his way into the kitchen to throw them away. "Hmm, maybe burgers and shakes at the Crashdown?" He offered, "or will that put us in the way of too many questions?"

“It shouldn’t.” Michael told him. If anyone had questions they could just sit and wonder. Besides they’d be gone in the morning. Who was going to stop them?

"Okay then," he turned, "let's do this." He turned and grabbed his crutch before turning towards the door. If Michael wasn't worried about anyone's questions then neither was he.

Michael followed Alex out of the cabin. He was hungry but mostly he was just happy to be with Alex going to dinner. So much better than warm beer and leftover pizza at home. "You wanna drive or do you want me to? He asked, twirling his keys in his hand.

They ended up taking the truck. Dinner was fairly relaxed and conversation was easy going. It was a bit of a surprise to Michael, though maybe it shouldn’t have been. They hadn’t ever had time to just sit and talk and it was nice.

Afterward they drove back in relative silence, both of them full and content. Michael bedded down on the couch, excited for their trip, but tired from the day. He slipped off to sleep easily, a dreamless deep sleep.

#malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico fic #eris writes fics #come crash into me fic

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jamiebluewind · 5 years

Note

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity :) ❤💛💚💙💜

What a fun question! Hum... let's see

1. My best friends. I love them so much. I have two wonderful best friends that have stuck by me for years, even during the hard times. They are just the source of so much of my happiness with our all goofs and indide jokes, but also a feeling of comfort and safety with them. I can tell them anything and they either just accept it (like me coming out or telling them about my past) or are ready to help (like if I'm having a panic attack). It's not all one way of course. I will drop everything yo be there for them too. It's funny, but when we're tired of people and want to be alone, it never includes each other. Like we just don't drain each other's batteries. It's nice.

2. My online friends. Yes. I'm talking to you @winterpower98, @fuocsniperbot98, @parano--vigilant, @fangirltothefullest, @random-pianist, @thesearcher1092, @champions-of-spirits, @madly-handsome, @crystrifoglio, @anotherphaseofpain, @5am-the-foxing-hour, @shoot-i-messed-up, @dillbugg, @an0therrand0, @ymmm-someone, @uwillneverknowwho, and anybody else on here that has touched my life (sorry if I missed anybody!) as well as the wonderful people I've met on other platforms too. You all have brought me so much joy. Yes, some of you can annoy the ever lovin HELL out of me sometimes, but I still love ya ;) Thanks for being a part of my life. You are all such wonderful people, each in their own way.

Winter, you are overflowing with kindness, understanding, and artistic talent that makes everyone who knows you see you as precious. I mean it. You are a beautiful precious bean. Anybody who doesn't see that is an idiot and I will fight them (and I wont be alone). You are always willing to listen, always ready to help, and always willing to learn and grow as a person. You accept everyone as they are and you are such a giving friend. You love what you love so purely and enthusiasticly too. Is it any wonder that anyone who knows you is ready to protect you with the ferocity that most people reserve for their favorite character and baby animals?

Fuoc, you are filled with chaotic energy, but also so much good and such a strong desire to help that you at times feel like a dnd character given human form. You are also a kickass artist! I love what you create and watching you put your own spin on things. You are a delight my wonderful rainbow demon seal and I am so lucky to have met you. ^_^

Celeste, you are a great listener and so brave and creative with your art. Not a lot of people are able to withstand the pressure to keep putting themselves out there like you do. You also have this... undercurrent of kindness that flows through your being. I'm not sure you're even aware of it, but it's always there and it's beautiful.

Toshi, you are just... you. A goose let loose on the world. You feel how you feel. You art how you art. Just... stream of conciousness randomness creating beautiful insanity. You own who you are and what you believe fearlessly. You work hard to achieve your dreams (even when your professors are being idiots) and harder to help your family. You deserve to be as kind to yourself as you are to others.

Random, you are cautious and walk the world like an adventurer exploring a cave with light steps and wide eyes, but when you share something, it's always worth it. Rather it's art, a story, or letting down a wall just enough to let yourself shine through. I love the caring talented person you are.

Blue, you are the embodiment of the kid in a candy store. Just so filled with bubbly pure excitement (with a bit of anxiety that tends to leak through at times *hugs*)! You apreciate things from rooftops, both creations and people. It's a sight to behold and absolutely contagious. I can't tell you how much I squealed when I seen your art of my story. I really did print it out ya know? I lost it in the move, so I plan on making another at some point. My new fridge requires art ;)

Josie? My dear? You are a doll. A tiny ball of hope, anxiety, and dreams. You care - just so much - about everybody. Strangers? Animals? Superiors? Friends? Family? It doesn't matter. You want to help them all. You will drive yourself into the ground to help someone. You will juggle as much as it takes. Your major in college was even picked BECAUSE of how much you want to help people! You are an amazing talented beautiful person who deserves all the love and appreciation in the world and your love of the written word is precious and contagious. Just... try to direct some of that beautiful carring nature towards yourself ya?

Madly. Madly, Madly, Madly. My fellow beautifully insane person and lover of dark things. We literally met brainstorming a serial killer! I love your dark sense of humor. Sometimes it's nice to just sit down with someone that I know wont get nightmares from darker story ideas and recommendations (or look at me like I must have something seriously wrong with me to come up with such things). You are that person. And you care. You really do. When you ask someone how they are, you mean it. You sincerely want to know. And you are so very... alive. It's the only way I can describe it. Just filled with... life. It's a beautiful thing.

Cryst, you are one of the people that inspired me to come on tumblr and share my first short story. You are wise beyond your years, kind, creative, and a real friend to those you know in real life and online. Your that person who always needs a tablet on hand because you never know when creativity will strike. You love the silly things and jokes, but you aren't afraid to roll up your sleeves and get down to business. You're also also a good listener and an honest editor and I'm so glad you seen my note on your speed paint. ^_^

Menace, you are the other person who inspired me to come to Tumblr and share my story, but instead of excitement (like Cryst), you used a gentle nudge and I think the one-two punch of the two of you is exactly what I needed. You my dear are made of feelings. You wear them like a cloak and they pour out of you with pure sincerity... and yet you somehow still have this quiet calm energy about you. It's like a flowing stream; calm and overflowing with life and movement at the same time. It actually comes through in your art and gives your pieces a very unique and beautiful feel. You're also kind and willing to listen. I know sometimes it feels like the world is on your shoulders, but I also know that you are filled with such great and beautiful things that sometimes are hidden just under the surface. Thank you for finding me.

Foxy? God. What do I even say about you? You dive in head first when you love something and make it your own. And when you don't like something? You don't play around with it either. You walk the world with a stubbornness that could put some bolders to shame, but because of it, you are honest about how you feel. You talk to a person because you like them, not because of social norms. You praise something because you think it's good, not to take it easy on somebody. It's actually very comforting. You're also silly and goofy and fun. You're empathetic and always trying to help out your readers, rather it's through asks, over tagging your creations, or making sure you balance your creations so they never end on a bad note. You are... you.

Shoot, you were my first reader. The first person to find me on this mess of a site. God. How confused were you when I practically wrote an essay thanking you for liking my little fic?! XD I've watched you grow and become the person you are and that person is pretty cool. Your desire to create comes in bursts. You live up to your username a little too much though and I desire to flick your ear when you worry so much. This momma bear says you are an amazing creator and a good friend and I'm proud of you ^_^

Dilly, you were always a hoot. I loved your stories and your creativity. It's been entirely too long since we've talked.

Rando, I haven't known you long, but I like you. You remind me of a kid rocking on their feet before jumping into a game of double dutch (type of jump rope with two ropes), hesitate and anxious, but still willing to jump in. I look forward to getting to know you more.

Ymmm, you are also fairly new, but I have had so much fun getting to know you. I think we started talking when I seen my phone was blowing up and realized you were going through and liking everything I've ever posted and reblogging half of it. XD You are fun, energetic, and you still read my tumblr even though I'm far less active than I used to be. I love your asks, your random messages, and chatting with you about nothing in particular. You are half the reason that I started getting back on occasionally to post things. ^_^

Who, you are the embodiment of a keysmash. Just stream of conciousness feelings and thoughts and all the things you love. It's a blast. You love to listen, you love to talk, and you love to have conversations about everything and nothing. It's wonderful to witness you finding something new and spazzing out over it. Your energy is infectious and sometimes it's nice to talk to someone who is cool with me talking in paragraphs. Case in point. Jesus. I think my point 2 went on a LITTLE long O_O

3. My cat Danny. He's a wonderful spoiled boy and a FANTASTIC ESA. He makes me laugh, he brings me comfort, and no matter what's going on, I know that this gray ball of crazy cat energy loves me.

4. Reseraching. Yes. I'm well aware that that's weird, but there's something about diving into something new and learning new facts and viewpoints that you never knew your entire life that is just so satisfying. Reading, experiments, or just talking to someone outside of my social circle. They all help me understand the world a little better and be more open minded. Some are simple (like learning how dice are made and what makes them more or less likely to be fair), some that seem simple at first turn out to be complex and nuanced (like black haircare, styling, and culture), and some are massive undertakings from the start (like intersex conditions). Each subject - from big to small - changes how I see the world.

5. Enjoying creations. I know that sounds vague, but I sincerely enjoy seeing what people create! As long as the creations aren't bigoted, odd are I'll love it because I love seeing the result of somebody take something from thought to reality. From classical art to fanfiction to my nephew's lego towers, each creation has it's own merit because each creation (even commissions) shows a part of the person that created it. After all, you can give five guitarists the same chord to play and no two sounds would be exactly the same. Now rather I actually like the end product of their creation varies. Some thing just aren't for me (like creepy pasta and country music). However, I can still appreciate that they made it.

On a side note, please don't be cruel to creators. Imagine there's a toddler still inside every creator who shows what they create. Some who are shy and fragile. Some who are overwhelmingly confident and proud. Some who just want to draw on the walls. All so easily crushed with a single hurtful word. Choose to see the good in what they make. Point out where they improved, tell them what you liked, and gently and tactfully pointing out small mistakes (like a typo or some other small overlooked thing) if you need to. And for god's sakes, don't be a bully.

#chain mail #bluewind talks #love my readers #dear god this got long #gonna copy this just in case it doesn't post #learned my lesson after so so many lost posts

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thejollyroger-writer · 5 years

Text

Bottom of the Ninth, Two Outs, Full Count

Part Two of Opening Day, Starting Pitch, which is a prologue for Love, Baseball, and Other Things (Part One // Part Two)

Also on AO3

WARNINGS: This story contains both Millian and abusive Swanfire. Sorry if that's not your cup of tea, but this is a prologue, and I'm obsessed with traumatic backstory. This also contains death of a character, grief, alcoholism, verbal and physical abuse, and abandonment. It starts exactly where part one left off.

Thanks again to @welllpthisishappening and @profdanglaisstuff for prompting this story into existence, @ultraluckycatnd for reading over it, and @kmomof4 for flailing so much over this little verse that has become the only thing I can think about. If you'd like to be tagged for future installations, let me know!

(also, sorry there's no cut, I'm on mobile and apparently Tumblr hates me anyway.)

-----

By the time Milah’s birthday rolls around in the middle of April, he has the ring tucked inside a box of letters from his brother and a reservation for the night she turns 26 at her favorite restaurant across town. He even bought them a night at the quaint little hotel next to Washington Square, so they don’t have to trek back across the river to get home that night. And he has the whole thing planned out: dinner, then a show at the Walnut Street Theatre before taking her dancing and taking her back to the hotel through Independence Square, finally lit up for spring, where he’ll stop and ask her to marry him. It’s a perfect plan, really, and he realizes when he calls the restaurant two nights before to confirm the reservation that he has never been this excited for anything in his life.

His friends can tell, too. David is happy for him, planning to propose to his own girlfriend while they’re on their post-graduation vacation, and Emma pokes fun at him regularly about the smile that is always on his face.

So when two uniformed officers knock on the door to his apartment three days before Milah’s birthday and ask if he’s Killian Jones, emergency contact for Milah Smith , it takes all his strength not to lose the contents of his stomach all over their finely-polished shoes.

“Yes, I am,” he says, pulling himself together enough to talk to them, to make sure that he’s not overreacting. “Why, has something happened to her?”

The way their emotionless faces seem to fall at his question causes him to lose his balance, and he reaches out to hold on to the doorway before he falls at their feet.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Mr. Jones,” the one to his left says, and Killian doesn’t fail to see the irony behind the fact that his name is Marry . “I’m afraid Milah was involved in a car accident on the Ben Franklin Bridge this morning, and by the time the paramedics got to the scene, there was nothing they could do for her.”

“Oh, god,” he groans, his shoulder hitting hard against the doorway, the only thing keeping him standing. “No, no, no, no.”

“We’re terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he chokes out, starting to close the door before the men standing on the other side of him see him fall apart. But once the door closes, he loses the strength to stay on his own two feet, and he falls to his knees, his head resting on the cool wood of the apartment door.

In losing Milah, he lost everything. Three days from spending the rest of his life with her, and now he would have to live with the question of whether she would have said yes for the rest of his life.

Of course she would have said yes , he tries to convince himself, but it’s useless. He’s learned to never assume even the easiest of things, that’s how he’s survived everything that’s happened so far in his life. So that little voice in the back of his head keeps telling him over and over that there’s a chance she may have said no.

He has no idea how long he stays seated against the door. He does know that the sun has swung across the sky and begins to shine brightly through the front windows, and that by the time he pulls himself back onto his feet, his legs are numb.

He wishes the rest of him was just as numb.

So that’s exactly what he makes happen.

It started with one glass of whiskey, then turned into three, then six. By the time David and Emma come back from visiting their mother for the weekend, the sun has turned the sky a dark shade of crimson, and he is passed out on the couch, what remains of the last glass still in the cup his hand is wrapped around.

“Killian!” David yells, rushing across the living room to make sure he’s okay. He’s breathing, but refuses to budge, and once Emma finds the now-empty bottle of Jack on the counter, they figure out why.

“I hope he’s okay,” Emma comments, adding the bottle to the pile of recycling under the sink. “He usually doesn’t drink this much, and especially not whiskey.”

“Either something happened, or he just randomly decided he was in the mood for half a bottle of Tennessee whiskey.”

“Well, given that he usually refers to it as ‘number 7 swill,’ I doubt he decided just on a whim.”

David turns his eyes down to Killian, his whole face painted with worry, but there’s nothing they can do for him until he regains consciousness, so they leave him there, returning to the piles of papers they left spread across the kitchen table. They study in silence for a few minutes, the ticking of the clock over the stove driving Emma insane, so she speaks, her eyes flitting up to her brother for just a moment.

“I, uh, need to stay here again,” she says quietly, her eyes glued to the paper in her hands so they don’t have to reach what she knows is a worried glare from her brother.

“Neal again?”

“For fuck’s sake, David, don’t say it like that.”

“When are you going to leave his sorry ass for good?”

“I love him, David. I know you know this, and I know you understand. And he loves me, too, he just has some issues he needs to work out and everything will be just fine.”

“Everything is not just fine , Emma,” David growls, his back teeth grinding together angrily. “You think I don’t notice the marks he leaves on your arms? The fact that you’re always crying after you talk to him? You need to leave him, before he does something that he can’t just apologize for.”

“I can’t just leave him,” she says, her voice soft, and when she adds, “Not anymore,” he drops the textbook he was balancing on the edge of the table.

“What does that mean, Emma? Are you— did he—”

“I’m pregnant, alright?” she says bitterly, throwing the paper in her hands back down on the table so she can hold her head. “I’m almost three months pregnant, and I’m too afraid to tell him because I know when I do, he’ll just leave. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?”

“Christ, Emma,” he whispers, and as soon as he realize that her shoulders have started to shake with silent sobs, he pushes his chair back to walk across the table and wrap his arms around her. She turns in the seat, burying her head in his shoulder. “I can’t — I’m sorry.”

While they stay like this, David shedding a few tears for his sister, as well, Killian begins to slowly wake on the couch, head pounding and stomach churning, and when he slowly makes his way to the kitchen to find some water, he is surprised to find David and Emma, but when they see him, they begin to break away from each other.

Sitting down across the table from them, taking very careful sips out of his glass, he finally says, “I take it this means you heard about Milah.”

When they both seem to be more confused by this statement, he realizes he must have made an error.

“Is she alright?” David asks, and somehow Killian smiles instead of breaking down once more, but it only lasts for the quickest of moments.

“No, quite the opposite, actually. She was killed this morning in an accident on the Ben Franklin.”

“What a fucking day,” Emma says under her breath as David moves back across the table to pull his friend in for a hug.

Four days later, the day after Milah would have turned 26, they hold her funeral in one of the nicer churches in town. After asking Liam and David to wait outside, to give him a minute alone with her casket, there is nothing comparable to seeing her laying there, lifeless, surrounded by silk and flowers. Pulling the small velvet box out of his pocket, his hands grip the edge of the wood, the only balance he can find.

“I was — I was going to give this to you,” he chokes out, doing nothing to stop the stream of tears that fall down his face. “I still… I’ve been trying to decide whether I should give it to you, or keep it as a reminder of just how damned much I love you.” He reaches up to tuck his index finger under the buttoned collar of his shirt, pulling out the chain that holds his mother's ring. “But I think, now that I'm here and thinking about it, that I will keep this, both as a keepsake of you, of the years we spent together, and a reminder that my life has been torn apart one too many times from letting people into my heart.”

He holds the ring out in his palm, staring down at it for a moment before he closes his hand around it, feeling the edges of the diamonds cutting into his palm.

“I love you, my darling,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips against her forehead, a sob fighting its way up his chest when he feels the coldness of her skin against his.

The pain overtakes him. He spends the next three days numbing himself, a dangerous combination of rum and whiskey and whatever else he can find in the apartment, only leaving the confines of his bedroom to find the next drink or relieve himself. On the fourth day, Emma, Neal, David, and Mary Margaret are sitting around the table in the kitchen, actively ignoring the subject of the grieving man who has locked himself away from the world.

Emma knows that David is worried about him — he’s told her that much at least a dozen times since Killian first told them of Milah’s death. The fact that her friend is struggling so much, so obviously, and no one is trying to reach out to him, though, just angers her.

So she decides she can’t take it anymore.

“Christ, enough of this,” she says, slamming her empty water glass down on the table. “That man in there needs help, and if I have to be the one to give it to him, then I will be.” She pushes her chair back, jumping to her feet, but before she can walk away, she feels Neal's hand wrap around her wrist.

“No.”

She whips her head around to face him. “Excuse me?”

“The darkness that took over Neal's face lightens, but his grip on her wrist does not. “He'll be fine, just give him time. Stay here.”

“What? No, he's — he's not okay, Neal. And on the off-chance that he is, he can be the one to tell me that, not you.”

Even if David wasn't watching his every movement intently, he would have noticed how hard Neal pulled on Emma's arm to get her to step back to the table.

“I'm not gonna tell you again, Ems,” he growls, his fingers beginning to leave marks on Emma's wrist. “I don't want you to go in there.”

“Good thing that's not your decision to make,” David says, his whole body tense, but when Neal snaps his head to face him and he sees some of the tension leave Emma's shoulders, he knows it was the right moment to step in.

“Well, it certainly isn't yours.”

“That is my sister that you have your hand around, if you'll remember.”

“David, please,” Emma says softly, and Neal smiles up at her, though that smile scares her more than anything else.

“Yes, David, please,” Neal repeats, the wicked smile still spread across his face when he turns back to him. “Emma knows how this works, and she knows what happens if she doesn't listen to me.”

“You son of a bitch!” David yells, jumping out of his seat angrily enough that it clatters to the floor behind him.

“David!” both Emma and Mary Margaret yell, but he's already halfway around the table, his hand flying out to grab the front of Neal's shirt.

Neal still hasn't let go of Emma's wrist.

“You're going to take your hands of my sister and never, ever touch her again, do you hear me?”

Neal is still smiling.

“And what, exactly, are you going to do to me if I don't?”

David pulls him out of his seat using the front of his shirt. His hand around Emma's wrist tightens further.

“See, that depends on just how angry you make me, because right now, I want to rip your fucking throat out.”

Mary Margaret has turned so white in her seat that Emma fears she may pass out — but she seems to be the only one that's noticed.

“Can I — can I ask you something, Nolan?” Neal asks, his voice free of any of the fear David was hoping to instill, but Emma feels the way his hand trembles. “Why the Knight in shining armor act all of the sudden? This can't be the first you've learned about me — “

“David, please ,” Emma begs, but David either fails to hear her or chooses to ignore her, taking the bait he's laying in front of him.

“She's pregnant, you bastard,” David practically yells, the secret that he's been trying so hard to keep, not even sharing it with Mary Margaret. “She's carrying your child and you're too goddamned selfish to care about it one bit.”

“David,” Emma whispers, and she is finally able to pull her hand out of Neal's grasp, that's suddenly loosened.

“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret says at the same time, her big brown eyes full of both excitement and sadness.

Neal turns slowly to Emma, who has covered her face to hide the tears that have started falling, and David finally releases his fist from his shirt. “Is he — is he serious, Ems?” He has the nerve to soften his voice so much, to suddenly take all of the anger it's always full of away, and it just hurts her all the more. She's so afraid of his anger, his temper, his fear of commitment, but he's —

She nods, a glimmer of hope lightening the pounding in her chest. Opening her eyes, she darts to look at him, and she can tell that he is thinking over something.

And then he shakes his head, raising his hands in surrender, and backing away from the table. “I’m not — I can’t —” he sputters, but his coherency is gone. “I’m sorry.”

The three of them watch, stunned, as Neal grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and walks out of the apartment.

Everything is silent. Still. David and Mary Margaret are too afraid to move, knowing that as soon as they do, everything will crumble.

Emma will crumble.

But instead of either of them breaking the silence, disrupting the stillness, it comes instead from a bright-eyed and uniformed Killian Jones coming from his bedroom. The three of them dare to move enough to turn their attentions towards him, and when he finally senses the tension that has filled the apartment, added only by his escape from his bedroom, he raises his eyebrows in question.

“Where are you going?” David asks the question they’re all thinking.

Emma asks the other: “Are you okay?”

He pushes the front of his hair back to slide his baseball cap over it. “I, uh, have a game. I can’t wallow in grief forever, so I’ve decided instead to focus on my pitching game. It’s what…” his voice drops off, his eyes falling to the floor as his hand reaches up to grasp the same chain that always hangs around his neck, which they all see holds another ring beside his mother's. “It's what she would have wanted.”

The engagement ring , Emma realizes. It's what Milah would have wanted.

For a moment, Emma is inspired. Sure, it took him four days to get there, but he's pulled himself back together after losing Milah — and really losing her, not just having her walk out like she knew Neal was going to do. He's turning the energy he's been using to destroy himself back into something more productive.

She can do that, too.

Grabbing her jacket off the back of her chair, she slings it over her shoulder and follows Killian out towards the living room.

“I'm going with him.”

“What?” Mary Margaret asks, at the same time David says, “Stay here, we can talk about it.”

She turns to Killian, his bright eyes lighting up the shadow the brim of his hat lays across his face, and shakes her head, turning back to David.

“I don't want to talk about it. It's over. He did exactly what I expected, so there's nothing to even talk about.”

“Emma—” David starts, but she walks out of the kitchen, leaving the three of them bewildered.

“No,” she calls through the doorway. “I'm leaving.”

“Yeah, uh, me too,” Killian says, a million questions on his lips, as he follows her out of the apartment.

Their walk down the steps and out to the street is silent, and it continues that way for a few blocks, Emma's hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket and Killian's fidgeting with the strap of his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

He has almost decided on how to ask the question lingering on the tip of his tongue when she speaks instead.

“I'm really proud of you, d'you know that?”

He turns to her, but her eyes are still set on the sidewalk at her feet.

“Come again?”

“Your whole world crumbles down around you, and you took a few days to grieve before you pull yourself back up and focus on something productive.”

“Thanks?” he asks, her words igniting a warmth in his heart that he wasn't sure he would ever feel again. “I watched my father drink himself half to death after my ma passed, and when I looked in the mirror last night, I realized I was doing the same thing. The only thing I ever wanted in life was to not end up like my father, and I saw myself doing just that.” He tugs at the chain around his neck, threading his pinky through the ring that has just been added. “And that's not what Milah would want. She always told me to — to stick with the things I enjoy the most, and I realized the reason I stopped focusing on my pitching game was in hopes of finding a career to sustain us. Now that I… now that I no longer need that, I can go back to doing what I love without the fear that it's going to be enough.”

Emma has no response to this, so they walk in silence again for a few more moments.

“Neal's gone.”

Killian breathes out a small chuckle, though once it's out, he can't figure out why. “How long do you think it will be this time until he comes running back?”

Emma flattens her hands against her stomach, but since her hands are in her pockets, Killian doesn't see it. “He's not coming back this time.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, for one, David threatened him. I believe the exact promise was to 'rip his fucking throat out,’ and I wouldn't put it past him to follow through on that.” They both allow themselves to laugh at this, a small release of some of the tension built around them after all that's happened in the past few days.

“And for two?” Killian asks, and when he sees Emma turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye, he returns her gaze.

“He’s too afraid of commitment to stick around and become a father.”

She watches as Killian's eyes grow wide before turning down to her stomach, a smile growing across his face.

“You're pregnant?”

He's relieved so see her begin to smile, too, as she nods her head. Stopping them on the sidewalk, he wraps her in a hug — and she realizes just how excited she really is, even if Neal is no longer in the picture.

Maybe it's even better this way.

“And you know you're not alone, right? You have David and Mary Margaret to help you, and me.” He leans back, his arms still wrapped around her shoulders, and when he smiles at her again, she believes for the first time since she saw that positive sign that everything might actually be okay.

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jo-the-schmo · 5 years

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Red, Dead, Reflections Ch.2

Chapter 1

A/N: Finally! Chapter 2! Remember how I kept saying I was trying to get to a certain part and that’s why it was taking so long? Well, I decided to keep that until the next chapter because it was taking so long and I was already pushing a hefty word count as is. Also, the writing in this chapter isn’t as good as chapter 1 and I’m sorry about that. I’ll do my best to make chapter 3 more enjoyable. I tried really hard with this one but it just didn’t stick. It happens to all of us. I hope you still like it, though!

Word count: 9,150 (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Blood, animal death, explicit language, mentions of racism (not expanded, I’m white, I don’t want to be disrespectful)

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (eventual) choose your own adventure.

Tags!: @zoilalove213 @eccentricc-catt

A/N pt.2: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO LIKED CHAPTER 1! Special thanks to those who wanted to be tagged and those who gave me nice reviews, I love you guys so much! I’m also super sorry that this chapter is mostly character introductions and being on the mountain. I promise you’ll get off this mountain soon! I refuse to have y’all still up there at any point during chapter 4. Hopefully that’ll make up for this gross writing. If the read more function still isn’t working, I’m gonna break Tumblr in half.

Edit: Holy shit I’m a moron, I forgot to add the title omg I’m a fucking moron

Keep Your Eyes On The Prize

Warmth enraptured your being, wrapping around you. Your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was a fire a few feet away from you. That and the pile of blankets on top of you would explain the all-consuming heat. Where am I now? You heard a light patter coming towards you. You threw the blankets off to ready yourself, worried it could be someone trying to get the upper hand on you. You were surprised to see a small figure with dark hair, who had frozen himself in place. It was a little boy. You raised your hand to surrender.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You took a deep breath, you lowered your arms when he resumed his approach.

“Don’t worry, I’m not scared.” He hopped up to sit next to you. It just occurred to you that you had been laying on a cot. “Uncle Arthur says you’re a friend, so I wanted to watch out for you.” So that wasn’t a dream.

“Oh, well that’s very nice of you. What’s your name, buddy?” You took on a softer tone, it made you sound more feminine, but you weren’t worried about that.

“Jack Marston. My momma’s been helping to take care of you. Her and Uncle Hosea. They said your name was James?”

“Yes, sir.” You smiled. You thought it better to be safe and keep up the act.

“Uncle Dutch wants to say hi to you now that you’re awake. I can take you to him.” He jumped up, he seemed to be excited that someone new was around You conceded and pried yourself from the cot. Your chest ached. I’ll have to loosen this band again soon, no more sleeping in this thing. Your wig felt askew, so you quickly moved it back in place before the two of exited the room. You left the cabin with Jack, he led you to another one close by. You passed by a woman with long brunette hair who sent you a curious glance. Jack grabbed your hand and pulled you through the door, there was a parade of men all around.

“Ah, it seems our young gentle-friend has awoken from his slumber.” Dutch announced, everyone looked in your direction. No matter how tough you were, a group of this many people would intimidate you. You recognized Arthur and Micah on opposite sides of the room. Jack tugged on your arm again, prompting you to take a few cautious steps into the herd of questioning eyes.

“Is one of you Hosea by chance?” You asked, already slightly out of breath. You still felt exhausted, and your head was killing you. An older man with a stripped scarf stepped forward, a warm smile on his face.

“That would be me, young man.” You weakly gripped his shoulder, partly for a support and partly to show appreciation.

“Jack told me you were one of the people to take care of me, thank you.” His smile widened.

“Oh, it was no trouble, young man.” He looked over at Dutch. “You were right, Dutch. Boy’s got good manners.”

“I told ya you’d like him!” He bellowed humorously. “Young Jack, could you please help Mr. West over here by me?” Jack nodded, ushering you over to the man in the dense black coat. Dutch wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady, but it was also so that he could present you to the crowd of men in front of you. “Now, gentlemen. This here is James West. He’s a fellow from California who’ lost his way. But make no mistakes, Mr. Morgan and I have both seen the carnage this boy can cause with just his bare hands. We believe that he was captured by those nasty O’Driscolls and took quite the beating because of it. Unfortunately for both us and poor James here, it seems that the injuries he sustained have given him some memory loss.” Memory loss? “He couldn’t even believe what year it was. But he is coherent enough to remember his name and state of residence.” He looked over at you. “Now young man, we know this could be difficult, but you could you try and tell us the last thing you recall.”

These people were insane, or at least you thought they were. You wouldn’t know until you got off this mountain and found some other people, which was clearly not happening any time soon. For now, this was your situation. You were stuck on some mountain in the middle of who-knows-where with bunch of people who thought the year was 1899 and that you were some man who experienced enough blunt-force head trauma to get some mild amnesia. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds you, so you made an executive decision. Play along until you can get to safety.

“I was…with my friends.” These people were willing to kill, so there was no way crime bothered them any. “We were robbing a bank, it went wrong.” You recalled the image of Eli, Austin, and Miguel running away from the scene. “I got hit…and that’s all I remember.” The only parts you were excluding were the fact that you were shot multiple times and that it was 2019.

“Robbing a bank, huh?” You peaked his interest. “So, you’re an outlaw then, Mr. West.”

“You could call me that, I suppose.”

“Can you shoot?” Micah chimed.

“Oh, I can more than shoot, pal.” This guy rubbed you the wrong way, and you could see a sort of look of approval from Arthur after you said that.

“Wonderful! That means you may repay us for our kindness. I don’t have all the details worked out yet, but I’ll call for you when the time comes. For now, I’d like for you to get situated among our presence. Go on now, introduce yourself to everyone.” Dutch gave a firm pat on the back, your chest tightened. Gasping for air, you checked around the room. There was a room with a door nearby, you stumbled inside, hearing the suspicious whispers of the men behind you hushed by the closing of the door.

You pressed your back against the wood to keep it shut, stripping out of your jacket and shirt. Your ribs ached while you fumbled around. Eventually, you were able to unwind the band almost fully, the long appendages hanging loosely around your form with your left arm holding the rest of it in place. Your whole chest felt like it was on fire.

“This is what you get for leaving it on, idiot.” You whispered to yourself. You weren’t sure what you were going to do. There were a bunch of people out there waiting for you to come out and you were trapping yourself inside with your secret. “I just need a minute…shit, that hurts.”

You saw your reflection in the window across from you. Well, sort of. It was more like a clouded outline. But you could see the shift in color where the band had been wrapped. Your skin was raw. You could also see two bruises that blended into each other on your forehead, and a dark one on the bridge of your nose. That guy really got you. You pushed yourself off the door, already wincing from the anticipation of needing to bind your chest again. You readjusted and began to wrap. Not so tight this time. You would just be walking around today, there shouldn’t be an issue of it staying in place. You finally managed to get it mostly back together and went to pick up your shirt when you heard the door knob turning. You scrambled to the ground, throwing your jacket over your back. You were surprised to only see Hosea walk in and shut the door behind him. The look in his eyes was knowing and curious. You stood to your feet, arms invisible from underneath the jacket. He looked at your shirt on the ground.

“It seems my suspicions were correct. You aren’t being entirely honest with us, James.” His tone wasn’t worrying, but you thought you’d better explain yourself, fast.

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to-“

“Don’t worry about it, son.” He interrupted, leaving you confused. You turned around, using your hand to clasp the jacket closed, hiding yourself from view.

“What?”

“I’ve met many folks in my life, young man. I won’t ask what your situation is, I don’t believe that’s my place yet. But I won’t speak a word of this, just a secret between us.” You breathed a sigh of relief, at least you knew now that one of these men was decent.

“Thank you, Hosea. I really appreciate this, you have no idea.”

“I think I can get some of the picture.” He smiled. “You’re an outlaw, sonny. An outlaw is whoever they want to be.” He turned back towards the door. “Now I’m supposed to be in here checking on you, making sure you aren’t up to anything.”

“That’s fair.” You chuckled.

“So, I have to stay in here with you until you’re ready, but I’ll give you your privacy, don’t worry.” You were thankful that one of these people may be able to keep you on everyone’s good side.

“That’s very kind of you, I can’t thank you enough for this.” You made sure to hurry up and get your shirt and jacket back on. You fixed two of the pins for your wig while you were at it. You were glad Hosea seemed smart enough, you wouldn’t take his kindness for granted, no matter how crazy these people seemed. But you had to be more careful. This wasn’t a time for everyone to be finding out you were not only lying, but the vast list of other things wrong with your situation. The further you could separate yourself from what you had gotten up to the better. These men were killers, but they weren’t you.

“Are you ready, James?” Hosea asked.

“Yes, is everyone still out there?”

“I believe only Dutch and Arthur stayed behind. Arthur and I are supposed to introduce you to everyone.” You nodded, he opened to door and you followed him out to where Dutch and Arthur were talking.

“Ah, thank goodness! What came over you, friend?” Dutch questioned.

“I believe we pushed him too far with the questions, Dutch. He lost his head for a moment.” Hosea excused.

“Yes, I’m sorry for that rude exit. Not sure what happened entirely.” You tried to reassure.

“I see, perhaps we should let the boy rest a bit longer.”

“Thank you, sir, but there’s no need. I don’t wanna be a bother, the least I could do is help around, be of some use.” Now was the time to suck up. You had to repay your debt to him and gain his trust. He liked your answer. He was clearly the leader of the group, and from the few interactions you’d had, you could tell they were tight knit. If you wanted to get off this mountain and not end up like those men at the cabin, you’d have to play into their hand.

“That’s a good man right there, I think we struck luck with this one!” He gestured between Arthur and Hosea. “Could you two show him around, we want him to get acquainted with everyone in camp before we get any further.” They agreed and led you back outside.

“Okay, Hosea, where should we start first?” Arthur asked, fixing his gloves.

“Well, I have some business to discuss with Miss Grimshaw, so I would prefer we find her first.”

“Will Jack’s mom be there? He said she was looking out for me too and I’d like to thank her personally for that.”

“She may be, but we are sure to run into her soon, so don’t fret.” Hosea said. Your group walked trudged through the snow to get to a wooden cabin. You saw mostly women inside, including the brunette who looked at you earlier and Mrs. Adler.

“Fine weather we’re having, ladies.” Arthur joked.

“Yeah, real funny.” A blonde woman rolled her eyes.

“It was. Anyhow, this here is James West. I know y’all have been real curious about him.” You followed their lead and walked over to the group of women. An older woman came forward with her hands on her hips.

“This here is Miss Grimshaw, James. You best respect her, Dutch may want to think we’re his people but we’re really hers.” Hosea’s eyes wrinkled at his own humor.

“Of course, thank you for showing me kindness, Miss Grimshaw.” You made sure to sound serious. You weren’t planning on disrespecting anyone, let alone someone who seemed so important. She cracked a grin and pinched your cheeks. You almost squeaked in surprise, but you managed to hold it in.

“Boy’s got a prettier face than you, Arthur! How old are ya?” She teased.

“23, Miss, that is if my memory serves.”

“Ah, we got ourselves a young one! He’ll be able to do some mighty fine work once he’s back in order. You be sure to repay our kindness, ya got that, young man?”

“With pleasure, Miss. I always repay my debts.” That was certainly true in most cases.

“You also best be careful-“ She grabbed the edge of your jacket and yanked you closer. She lowered her voice in your ear. “Don’t try anything with my girls, ya hear? If I find out you’ve been disrespectful to any of them, my face will be the last thing you see.” She let go to gauge your reaction.

“Of course, Miss Grimshaw. I would never dream of overstepping my bounds. You have my word.” You bowed your head at her as a sign of honest intentions. Her smile returned.

“Fantastic!” She hooked her arm around yours and lead you closer to the women. “I’ll introduce you then.” She pointed to the blonde with the whole body eyeroll. “The smart mouth is Karen Jones.”

“Howdy.” She waved. Next to her was a red head.

“That one’s Molly O’Shea.” Miss Grimshaw looked at the woman with warm, dark skin in a yellow skirt. “That’s Tilly Jackson, don’t let her sweet talk ya.”

“Hello.” Tilly said with energy in very voice. It suddenly dawned on you that these people were surprisingly less racist than to be expected out of anyone who thinks it’s 1899. You felt lucky for that one. It would tear you up to discover that anyone was being treated badly. These guys may have lost their minds, but intolerance wasn’t something that you tolerated. Especially after everything in your life.

“That’s Mary-Beth.” She pointed out the brunette from outside, she smiled sweetly up at you.

“Nice to meet you.” She went back to writing after hitting you with that same glance from earlier. The last woman looked up from what she was doing, she was wearing a black hood over her head. “Abigail Marston, she’s my hardest worker.” You recognized the name.

“Are you Jack’s, mother?” You asked.

“Yes, I am.” You carefully stepped over and kneeled down to the level she was sitting at.

“He told me you were one of the people to take care of me while I was out, I wanted to thank you personally for your generosity.” You bowed your head and stood up. “Thank you, Mrs. Marston.”

“Well ain’t you just the definition of a gentleman.” Arthur was clearly trying to tease you, boys were usually like that.

“Don’t get anywhere in life without being kind to those who are kind to you.”

“Fair enough.” You were glad he agreed. You turned your attention back to the women.

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name is James West, by the way. I know Arthur already said that, but I try my best to be polite.” Try is the operative word here. Karen whispered to Mary-Beth and Tilly.

“Arthur, take James over to meet the boys and make a good second-impression. I have to speak to Miss Grimshaw for a moment on matters of housing. I’ll meet you over there.” Hosea said as he pulled Miss Grimshaw aside. Arthur lazily waved you over and you made sure not to delay this. You looked back at the group as you walked.

“Thank you for your time, it was nice to meet all of you.” Arthur let you walk out first. The wind hit you like a truck. Arthur held your shoulder to keep you in place and make sure you wouldn’t blow away.

“Ya alright there, partner?” You steadied yourself, he released his grip.

“Yeah, I’m good. Not used to this kind of cold. Thanks for the help.”

“Everyone went back to their cabin after your episode.” The two of you marched toward the cabin you had woken up in. There was muffled yet loud conversation happening inside. The second the door opened, everyone got quiet. “Hello again, gentlemen.” The room sounded with a few ‘hey Arthur’s before going back down again, everyone was locking eyes on you. It wasn’t a good idea to hide behind Arthur and let him do the talking, they’d prefer you explain yourself.

“Hello everyone.” You stepped around the bulky blue coat, throwing yourself into the spotlight. “My head was unwell back there, I apologize for that. My name is James West, I’d like to help you in anyway I can. I’d hate to mooch off of your hospitality.” They seemed to approve of your answers so far.

“Well don’t be shy, ya idiots, introduce yourself, shake the boy’s hand or somethin’.” Arthur really did have no filter, huh? The first person to approach you was a man wearing a giant black hat and an equally frightening mustache. He took your hand in an eager handshake, which surprised you to say the least.

“Reverend Swanson, Orville Swanson.” Ah, a holy man, a bit ironic for the situation, isn’t it? You coughed and got your voice back into place.

“Good to meet ya, Reverend.” You pushed past him and put yourself in the center of 3 men who were sitting near each other. The youngest one stood up first. He looked to be around your age but definitely younger, which made you kinda mad that everyone was acting like you were so young. That told you they were trying to prove a point.

“Lenny Summers, nice meeting ya.” You gave him a firm handshake. You felt surprisingly comfortable with him, since he was about your age, time to lighten the mood.

“Summers? Don’t’cha mean Winters?” You pointed at the window that was mostly boarded up but showed some of the snow outside through the cracks. He held in some kind of sound, only a little creak escaping. You considered that to be a win in Y/N’s a Comedy Master, Volume VI. The other two squinted there eyes, but you could tell they were hiding their amusement. Lenny sat down, the man with very interesting facial hair stood up. It didn’t look bad on him, you were just confused as to what you’d classify it as for a second. If anything, the hat was what threw you off the most. It suddenly dawned on you that a lot of these guys would look better without their hats. You paused that thought for a moment.

“Javier Escuella. Pleasure.” He smirked.

“It’s good to meet you, Javier.” His handshake was not as hesitant as Lenny’s was by comparison, but it was fairly quick. The last man in the semi-circle stood. And he was a giant. You had seen him earlier but for some reason his height and just overall existence didn’t hit you until that moment. He had the longest hair of anyone in the room. Maybe you’d be able to get out of wearing the wig over time. With some lying, obviously. You held your hand out to him first.

“James, it’s nice to meet you.” His handshake was unexpectedly gentle.

“Charles, Charles Smith.” His voice was also softer than you’d have predicted. You supposed he didn’t need to compensate for presence so there wasn’t a point in being loud. You could tell right off the bat that he was a quiet type, but you were used to that from Miguel, so it didn’t matter much. You turned away to face the 3 other men on the other side of the room. You already knew the blonde one.

“Micah, right?” You asked. You didn’t particularly want to get near him, but you conceded and held your hand out. He squeezed your hand just a little too hard, you did the same in return, and a little too much energy was put into it. He was still mad about your first encounter with him in the cabin. “Good to finally get a proper introduction.”

“Yeah, right.” You made the mental note that he was for sure an asshole and to watch out for him. A different man grabbed your attention, he didn’t seem pleased.

“My name is Simon Pearson, I’m the cook around here, and with you and that new woman hanging about, you better be helping enough to get your share.” You remember Arthur mentioning him. You shook his hand with both of yours to signify peacemaking.

“Of course, sir. I’ll do more than my share. I’m always willing to help.” You were aware that a lot of the things you were saying were repetitive, but that was usually how mass introductions went. A man with a very full beard was the last one at the moment. “Hello, I’m James West.”

“Bill.” He answered simply. Okay, not in the talking mood right now. Got it. You heard Arthur’s voice again.

“John’s out of commission at the moment, we won’t be worried about that dumbass.” You heard a familiar patter on the floor coming in your direction.

“James!” Jack rammed into your leg before you got a chance to react. He almost knocked you off balance.

“Woah, hey there, buddy.” You knelt down in front of him to get on his level. “What have you been up to? On patrol?” He seemed to be the only kid here, that’s gotta be stressful on him.

“Yeah! Been waiting outside Papa’s room since you’re awake now.” He informed.

“Wow, strong and vigilant? You’re a real power house there, little man.” You balled your hands into fists and lightly bopped him on the chest, one with each hand. “Pow, pow!” You exaggerated onomatopoeically. You could tell this was more interaction than he was used to. You were more than happy to brighten his mood.

“Uncle Dutch says you’re a good fighter.”

“Uncle Dutch would be right, gotta hit ’em with that one-two!” You hit him two more times, a wide smile on his face. He mimicked the way you blocked your face with your hands. His small fist gingerly punched your forearm. “Come on! You can do better than that, buddy!” You stood up, bouncing and shifting your weight between your feet. He tried to do the same, but it came out more as an awkward skip-in-place. “See? You’re a natural, little dude! A little practice and you could pin all of us.” He hit your knee a couple times, making little ‘psh’ sounds when he did.

“Will you teach me?” He was elated, you weren’t sure how long you’d be with them, but it seemed like you’d be up here for a while. Might as well, it also might win you bonus points with the others. But in all honesty, you weren’t thinking about that much.

“Sure thing, buddy.” He was really happy for that answer. “But…” He paused. You swooped down and picked him up, resting him on your shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Lesson number one, never let your opponent take you off guard, or something unexpected might happen.” You were suddenly very aware that you weren’t alone in the room. You got so distracted by Jack that you forgot that you were in a room full of people. Jack squirmed around, laughing with the kind of energy you’d expect from a kid without child interaction and stuck on a recluse mountain with a bunch of sad-sack adults.

“Uncle Arthur! Javier!” He took a breath between fits of giggles. “You’re upside down!”

“Alright, little dude.” You made sure to be gentle as you set him back down to his feet. “I’ll teach some more later, okay?” You looked over, everyone was staring at you with varying looks about them Confusions, amusement, conjecture. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, how could any of you say no to this face?” You ruffled Jack’s hair. “That’s an objectively sweet face that you can’t say no to.”

“I don’t know ‘bout sweet, but he’s rambunctious that’s for sure.” Arthur commented with the knowing nods of several men as their response. You crossed your arms as Jack ran off to do something else.

“How long have you all been stuck up here?”

“A few days,” Charles started, “A few bad days at that.”

“We’re running low on supplies, food most importantly.” Pearson added. “I haven’t been able to do my job properly since we got up here, ever since Blackwater.” Blackwater? You wanted to ask, but the look on everyone’s faces told you you’d be overstepping your bounds. You decided to go a different direction.

“I know we’re in the middle of winter, but there’s gotta be animals, yeah?”

“Everyone I’ve sent out as come up empty-handed.”

“No, James is right. There’s game on this mountain, we just aren’t finding it.” Charles gestured to his wrapped hand. “And this certainly isn’t making me feel better about it. I’m going hunting.” He stood and walked over to a corner where some things were sitting.

“Yer hand’s burnt, you won’t be able to shoot.” Arthur’s accent slurred. Charles was about to say something, but you cut him off.

“Yeah, and? His hands don’t need to work for tracking. Just send someone else up there with him who can kill.”

“That’s a great idea! You and Arthur can go with him!” Pearson sassed, “That man’s been irritable with nothing to do.” Arthur grumbled in response.

“I’d be more than happy to help,” You really wanted to get back in your element. All this social work was more Austin and Gina’s speed. “but I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be.”

“You ever been hunting?” Charles went and handed a bow to Arthur.

“Something like that.”

“That’s better than nothing in my opinion. Come on, you can borrow one of the others’ horses.” Someone walked in.

“You can take mine. Silver Dollar should be pretty tame for you.” It was Hosea.

“Meet us there my ass, old man.” The blue-clad cowboy mocked.

“Apologies, got a bit held up with preparations. Charles, Arthur, bring back something good and make sure the kid gets the hang of things.” Hhhhhh, Hosea you’re really nice, but please don’t call me kid. Now wasn’t the time for corrections, you could do that later. They agreed and motioned for you to follow them outside.

The window was starting to slow down, which was more than welcome in your opinion. The snow crunched lightly, the way it does when multiple people have already walked on it. You missed California’s ridiculous heat. Despite the air being cold though, it was much easier to breathe than that smog. Your eyes burned from the sun reflecting off the plush snow. This is fucking blinding, how can any of you see ever? The three of you approached what was, basically to you, a herd of horses. They mounted their horses on silence, you approached a grey one.

“I’m going to assume this is Silver Dollar?” Arthur nodded to confirm your suspicions. You pulled yourself up and adjusted. Alright, just a group of guys going huntin’, just a couple of dudes, some good’ol’boys…how do I make this thing go? You looked up to try and learn through observation. Okay, I’ll just…give him a little- you lightly tapped your heel against the side of the horse, he came to a trot, following behind Charles. Don’t show any fear, they can sense it. Just be chill and respect the animal, and he’ll do the same for you. You at least would hope that for the time being.

Charles and Arthur picked up the pace, so you followed suit, not nearly as fast, but you were at least keeping up. There was a gaping silence that didn’t bother you. It finally gave you a chance to take in your surroundings. To say that the scenery was breathtaking would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if you had seen anything more beautiful in your entire life. Why had you never gone this far out? It seemed like a good a place as any to hide away, other than the blizzards. Charles broke that silence all too soon.

“What did you mean earlier? About hunting.” He clarified. You recalled your answer from earlier.

“Yeah, I was wonderin’ ‘bout that.” Arthur added. You tried to think of a way to phrase this without giving too much away.

“It wasn’t so much hunting as it was scavenging at that point. Can’t hunt something that’s already dead. Tracks and all.”

“Scavengin’?”

“Times were…desperate.” You decided to leave it at that for the time being.

“Have you ever tracked a deer?” Charles asked.

“Not a deer, but if you point some out to me, I should be able to find it pretty easily.”

“Good, we’ll need 2. You and Arthur get one each.” It wasn’t long before you passed through a stream and then came upon a clearing where Charles told you two to slow down. You followed in his example when he dismounted. “We’ll need to continue on foot from here.” He pointed at a trail of imprints in the ground. “Think you can find that?”

“Yeah, no problem.” You followed along it, just walking for a few steps to make an assessment. “She definitely isn’t far. The snow is deep, and the tracks are undisturbed.” You had never been out looking for food in the snow, but it seemed easier than dry ass California. You stopped to look ahead, listened closely. You could hear another part of the stream you passed earlier. Animals get thirsty too. “Alright, get down low, don’t wanna make too much noise.” Arthur seemed reluctant, but Charles was pleased with your competence. It was odd to slink around in broad daylight, but there was no helping it. You saw one in the distance.

“Arthur, ready yourself.” Charles took the lead now, inching the group a few feet closer. It was a buck. But there did seem to be a few others scattered about. If y’all were quick, this should only take a few more minutes.

“This is probably a good time to remind you both that I’ve never used a bow for hunting or anything like that, so maybe Arthur should handle this one.” You whispered.

“Don’t worry, they’ll scatter once Arthur shoots. We’ll have to track them a bit further. Shouldn’t take long, though.” You were crouched down in between the two of them, Arthur was lining up his shot. “Aim for the neck.” It was only a moment later that you a quick, air splitting sound. The buck fell to the ground. The rest of the deer, having heard him collapse, scattered themselves about just as Charles said they would. “Okay, go ahead and haul that one. James and I will keep going to save us a few minutes.”

“You got it.” He sighed, standing upright and walking over to the now dead animal after handing you the bow with a few arrows in its quiver. Now separated, you and Charles continued to skulk about. Most of them ran upstream, so that was your best guess on where to go. Luckily, Charles was still leading, and you were satisfied to see he took the same direction you were taking. A doe was in the distance, you could already see her heavy breathing from running when Charles had you stop.

“Okay, draw your bow.” You slid the arrow weakly into place. “Don’t over extend the string, but don’t be too free with it either.” You tried to do what he said, Your dominant hand held the arrow in place, the other gripped the wooden curve. You drew back. “A little more.”

“Like this?” You corrected yourself.

“Yes, but don’t fire yet.” His hand reached forward, grasping at the base of the bow just under where yours was located. You let him guide your aim to the side. He stopped moving but kept his position.

“Now?”

“Take a deep breath.” Inhale. “Release when you breathe out.” Exhale.

You let loose. The arrow flew through and made the doe squeal and fall to her side. The rest of the group fled. Leaving the body behind. You mentally high-fived yourself. Hell yeah!

“You did a good job. Come on, it’s time to collect.” Both of you stood, roaming towards the carcass.

“Thank you for your patience.” You replied with a smirk. You’d like to say the sight of something dead was what made you feel sick, but it was the blood. You chose to believe it was the way the color popped against the pure snow. The way it looked like cherry cough syrup or Kool-Aid left a terribly familiar taste at the back of your throat. But you decided not to show hesitation. Weakness will show more of you than any words people can claw from you. The words rang in your head. You pulled the arrow out of its windpipe.

“I’ll carry it back to horses.”

“But your hand-“

“I don’t need one hand to use the other’s arm.” His tone was more relaxed than it had been before, less formal. He hefted the body and carried it over his shoulder. “Come, Arthur’s bringing over the horses.” And he was. Arthur was a little over five yards away. You were surprised by how little time you all spent doing this. With both deer slumped on the back of Charles and Arthur’s horses, you started the ride back to camp. I’m kinda getting the hang of this. It’s kinda like driving a living motorcycle, but it can go slow without cruising.

It seems you spoke too soon, as a sudden howl in the distance caused Silver Dollar to buck you off. Your back hit the ground, Arthur hopped down. He held the reins of his horse to make sure they wouldn’t run off. You hurried to your feet.

“Arthur-“

“I know, I’ll handle it.”

“I’ll lead the horses a little a ways while you deal with them.” Charles took Arthur’s reins and then turned to look at you. “James, you-“ The barking was getting louder, grey spikes of fur were sprinting towards your group. You knew there was no way you could get back on and start moving in time.

“Go on ahead, I’ll be fine!” Besides, this was your field of expertise in one way. Hunting wasn’t your strong-suit, but defense sure as hell was. You darted off to the side, swinging your jacket off, raising the shoulders as far as your arms could reach while running. You let out a loud scream as one approached you, not out of fear, but to make it fear you. It still charged toward you with less ferocity. You managed to kick it in the side and ran, side-stepping your way to Arthur. A shot rang out, one of the three wolves fell over, dead. The other flanked and clamped its maw on Arthur’s arm. His gun fell to the ground. You rolled to grab it.

You pulled the hammer back and fired at the beast the second Arthur was able to force himself free. Pull back, turn. You used your opposite hand to grab your wrist and steady your arm. One last shot pounded just as the wolf you had kicked was about to pounce. Arthur clutched onto his right arm, bloody holes blotting through. You picked up your jacket and shook the snow off before sliding it back on.

“You’re a good shot, boy. I know who’s getting a gun as soon as we get off this damn mountain.” He laughed, ignoring the pain that should be in his arm.

“I make it a habit of having one, so yeah.” You flipped the revolver in your hand, handle facing Arthur. He took it and tipped his hat to you.

“Thank’ya, Mr. West.”

“It’s no trouble. You probably could’ve handled them, you aren’t the damsel type.” Charles trotted back over with Silver Dollar and whatever horse Arthur was riding trailing behind him.

“You two handled that quickly.”

“You mean James handled that quickly. All I went and did was get my arm bit.”

“One outta three ain’t bad.” You retorted.

“Y’know I knew someone who died from getting bit.”

“You’re not gonna die from a little wolf bite, Arthur.” Charles sighed.

“But you don’t know that!” Arthur was surprisingly funny for someone who looks so sad. Then again, it shouldn’t be that shocking to you. Charles snorted but did not give further response. You and Arthur got back on the saddles and began the journey to their camp.

“You’ll be fine as long as that thing didn’t have rabies. Just keep it clean and dry for the time being.”

“They call me Rabid Morgan.” Arthur stared into the distance.

“They say you can see his red eyes from a mile away.” Charles joined.

“Rabid Man Morgan, the shredder of limbs, no matter whomst they belong.” You let a chuckle slip.

“Dutch and Hosea are gonna think you’re dying if they hear all this talk.” His long hair shook in motion with his head.

“All the more reason to keep talkin’ if ya ask me.”

“Well, I’m calling you that from now on. I’m never going to explain what it means.” You warned.

“Perfect.” You had barely noticed how close to the camp you’d gotten. Good conversation makes for easy travel, you supposed. Pearson was the first to greet you at his station.

“Sounds like a bunch of gossiping milkmaids are invading the camp.”

“Never heard of laughter, Mr. Pearson?” You teased. You were aware you were acting a bit too comfortable, but this would give you a good idea of where to draw the line.

“Not that I recall. You bring anything useful for me?” You slid off the side and took initiative of hoisting the doe onto your shoulders. It was heavier than you expected, but you were able to get it into the open area Pearson directed you towards. Albeit, you didn’t do it as gracefully as Charles had or how Arthur was doing it now, but you did it, nonetheless.

“Ever skinned a de-“ Charles was interrupted,

“WEST YOU SACK OF SHIT!” by the obnoxious wailing of a blonde idiot. Micah was stomping his way through the snow, eyes burning into you. You squinted in distrust of the situation. By the time he was two feet from you, you’d expected him to slow down.

“What do you want Mi-“ But he didn’t. He shoved you back, making you hit a cleared part of Pearson’s desk. He pulled you forward by the collar of your jacket and the center of your shirt.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are gettin’ special privileges around here, but ya best watch yerself and how you carry. I got my eye on you.” He was trying to assert his fragile dominance over you.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, dickhead. But if you don’t get your filthy paws off of me in the next two seconds, I’m gonna make sure we have matching bruises.” You wrinkled your nose.

“Micah, put the poor boy down right now!” You heard Dutch’s voice coming closer but didn’t break eye contact with Micah. He threw you further onto the table before turning away from you.

“You seriously trust this runt, Dutch? Look at him. Maggot’s got lies smeared all over his face.”

“And you’ve got brown smeared all over your nose, back up.” You practically vaulted off the table, using your forearm and pressure to Micah’s chest to force him back.

“The god damn kid get’s his own space but not any of the others who been here longer? Here I am having to-“

“Don’t call me kid, ever again. Unless you want a broken neck.” Nothing got to you more than that, especially when someone was using it the way he was. Your stare was enough to pierce skin. Arthur grabbed Micah’s shoulder.

“And I’d thank you kindly to not even try and finish that sentence. We already heard you whine earlier. The way I see it, yer at least two against one right now, and that ain’t even including everyone here that would beat you the first chance they got. I don’t care how tough you think you are, those aren’t good odds. So, I suggest you shut that trap of a mouth you have.” His voice was low, there seemed to be some history behind that response, but you couldn’t think about that too much right now. Micah shook away his touch, pushing past Dutch and Charles, he mumbled something to himself as he stormed off. You could feel the pressure of your jaw clenching and your nails digging into your palm.

You paced about, narrowly avoiding the deer corpses around you. Remember to breathe, Y/N. You can’t pass out again. Control yourself. You’re alright. No point in getting mad over the stupid, you’ll scream all day. You wanted to destroy something. You couldn’t stand people like him, it ripped at your gut like a beast starving for your insides. You took a few deep breaths before pacifying yourself enough to address the men around you.

“Forgive me, gentlemen. That situation was a bit too tense for me to bear.” You tried to resist the urge to pull at your hair, considering it wasn’t your hair.

“You reacted better than most people would, nothing to apologize for.” Arthur was steadfast in watching Micah leave. Dutch stepped forward and held you still with both hands just under the joint of your shoulder. He had to bend down a bit to get at eye level with you.

“He can be rough around the edges, but you’ll get used to him. I can see that fire in your eyes, boy. There ain’t nothing wrong with it, but I’d like you to hold that fire close for a few hours more.” He sounded like Austin, which was simultaneously comforting and nerve-wracking. He traded glances with the two men you had rode back with but staying in the same position. “While you boys were gone, I had some of the others ride out to scour the area, and we’ve struck gold.” He stood up straight, still holding onto you. “The O’Driscolls have a camp a little a ways from here. Mrs. Adler informed me of some of the talk that was happening in her house, and apparently there was word of a train.”

“A train?” You questioned.

“That’s right, young man. We need money.” Doesn’t everybody? “I only send my best men for these jobs, but I wanna see how good you really are, Mr. West.”

“Oh, he’s good. Even Arthur was impressed.” Charles elbowed Arthur’s arm.

“That true, son?”

“I saw him kill two wolves today. Only used a bullet for each. Hit ‘em both right here-“ He tapped the middle of his forehead with index finger. “-so, yeah, I’d wager he’s pretty good.” A grin stretched across Dutch’s face.

“Fantastic, let’s hope your as good at shootin’ O’Driscolls as you are at shootin’ wild animals.” He gave you an affirming pat on the bicep. “Ah hell, who am I kiddin’? They’re the same thing.” He turned to walk out, calling back to all of you before being out of earshot. “Ill see you gentlemen in the morning, we leave at 10 o’clock!” The excitement was clear in his speech.

This place was weird. These people were fucking weird. The more you stayed here, the more convincing these people seemed. What the hell was their deal? They acted like normal people, not like cultists or anything. How did they think it was 1899? It would make sense if they’d been on the mountain for years, but they just got here not too long ago. It gave you a headache just thinking about it. You needed to ask more questions without seeming eager to leave.

“Sorry about Micah, he’s like that with almost everyone.” Charles’s voice broke your thoughts.

“I’m fine. He’s lucky Dutch stepped in. I don’t let anyone push me around.” Anymore.

“You’re on edge. There’s not much to do up here but work. You can help Arthur skin the pelts. Might help distract you.” He suggested, pulling what looked like a hunting knife from his belt. You took it reluctantly, knowing you’d need something to do to keep yourself from losing it. You got down on one knee, waiting to follow Arthur’s lead. Time to talk.

“How far are we from Blackwater?” You pretended to know what that place was.

“Not far enough if you ask me.” Pearson complained. “Then again, we left a lot down there.”

“Like food?” Arthur muttered.

“A comedian as always, Mr. Morgan.” Pearson was not amused.

“What happened to you guys over there?” They were hushed by that question for a second.

“I don’t think any of us are entirely sure.” Charles contemplated for a moment. “But now we’re wanted. Every last one of us. We won’t be able to go back for some time.” His eyes met yours, halting the slide of the blade. “I hope that doesn’t interfere with you staying with us for the time being.” You were sad that you weren’t bothered by this, not in the slightest. People being hunted didn’t even phase you.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I let it.” You sighed, you let your guard slip. “I’ve been on the run since I was 19. This doesn’t change anything.” You immediately caught your mistake. Shit. No, it’s fine. They still don’t know who I am. I’m fine. But something suddenly struck you. How could these people be on the run from the law if they thought it was the 19th century?

“What got you?” Arthur asked. It floored you mentally, no one had ever asked you that question. Mostly because you never told anyone who didn’t already know. It wasn’t something you exactly go around flaunting. Him and Charles could see the alarm in your expression.

“Just…” How do you say it? “I made some bad choices.” You don’t. You hurried to finish the carving, wanting to get out of the conversation as fast as possible. You could tell they wanted to press but, lucky for you, decided against it. You rolled the fur up and hooked the cadaver onto a bare wall next to Arthur’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You kept your head down as you walked away.

This wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. You had to think of a way to get back to the others. Where would you go once you got off the mountain? What would even happen when the others got off? There was no way they could avoid cities. You could hardly believe their entire reality hadn’t broken already. Blackwater had to be a town or something. And they were running from the law. The more you heard and thought, the more it didn’t add up. You got lost in that pensive side of yourself.

Something hit your chest, well, someone. You saw the book fall before the girl. It was the brunette you met earlier, you thought Mary-Beth was her name. She was quiet when she fell initially, but as she leaned forward on her elbows, she let out a grunt of pain. You snapped out of your trance and quickly bent closer to her, holding out your hand.

“I’m so sorry, miss.” She took your hand, the back of hers facing up to the sky. You pulled her up halfway and used your other hand to press the space between her shoulder blades. You did this to avoid pulling her too hard as helped her back to her feet. Once she was balanced, you let go and snatched her book from the snow. Fortunately, it fell cover side down. “I should have been looking where I was going. Are you alright?”

“I’m alright, thank you, Mr. West.” She took the book as you presented it to her. “I should’ve been paying attention too.” Her eyes squinted, inspecting you closely, like she was trying to figure something out.

“Well, I’m still sorry.” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You took a step back and turned away.

“Wait!” She grabbed your wrist. “Hosea wanted us to let you know Miss Grimshaw set up a space for you.” You looked back at her.

“A space?”

“Yes! He told us about how common it is for people in your condition to episodes, especially in their sleep. So, he had us make something for privacy.” Seems a few of your questions were answered.

“Is that what Micah was upset about earlier?”

“Yes, I’m sorry about him. He doesn’t know when to keep himself in check most of the time.” She pulled you toward the cabin you had been placed in. When you walked in, Bill and Javier were the only ones in the main room. You attention immediately went to what looked like a make shift tent at the right end of the room. It looked like what would happen if you split a tent in half and let it rest against a wall. Or like something a few kids would make, not in terms of quality but rather conceptually. It was very well done by blanket fort standards.

“Wow, Mary-Beth, that looks really nice.” You did appreciate the effort genuinely. You reminded yourself to thank Hosea for saving you some trouble. “How many of you worked on this?”

“It was mostly Tilly, Karen, and I. I wasn’t sure if you were much or a writer, but I left an extra pencil and a few sheets of paper to keep yourself entertained.”

“Thank you so much, this is very nice of all of you to do for me.” You smiled at her. “Be sure to let me know if there’s anything you need, I’d feel bad if I didn’t repay you all in some way.” Your request tickled her fancy.

“You sound kinda like Arthur.”

“That a good thing?”

“Yes, I’d reckon so.” Her expression was tender and thoughtful. “I’ll let the girls know you appreciate our hard work. Hosea said you should rest to not create any more discomfort.” She pivoted back towards the door. “Oh! And be sure to eat something in the morning. No telling when the last time you ate was…Actually, I’ll see if I can drop any off to you when it’s ready.”

“You don’t need to do that, you all have done-“

“Nonsense! I’m surprised you were well enough to go out in the condition Dutch said you were in. ‘Sides, y’all are going out again tomorrow, right?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“But nothing! You go and rest right now, young man!” You couldn’t tell if she was older than you, but she sure didn’t look it. Regardless, you conceded.

“Yes, ma’am.” She left you to your own devices, Javier and Bill were focusing on their own activities. You took it upon yourself to crawl into the makeshift tent. It was wide enough for the cot you woke up on. The blanket making the fake wall and roof was high enough for you to sit on the cot but not much else. It was a good thing that’s all you’d need.

You sat down in the middle, letting the blanket curtain to hide you from everyone else. Taking off your coat and lifting up your shirt, you felt joy well up in your chest, joy mixed with a stiff pain. Even with it barely being able to stay up, it was still painful to keep the fabric wrapped around you. You could feel your skin rejoice as you removed it. Once the manila colored cloth was all unbound and sitting on your lap, you let your shirt fall back down. You decided to hide it under the cot for the time being. You were surprised to find a canteen and the items Mary-Beth had mentioned earlier. Thankfully, the contents of the canteen was water, which you happily swigged. You laid back on the cot. This was the first time you’d gotten conscious alone time.

Okay, time to figure this out. I was shot 6 times. I should be dead. But somehow, I ended up on a mountain in winter. I was trapped in a barn and rescued by these guys who think it’s 1899. What’s weird is that Mrs. Adler didn’t object to that, even though she was introduced to everyone the same night I was. None of this is adding up…

You massaged your temples.

If I’m gonna start thinking crazy, I might as well go all out right now. I’m either dead or I traveled back in time. And either way, I can’t do anything about it. Death is inescapable and time isn’t tangible, it isn’t even real. I’ll have to take this one goal at a time… Damnit!

You wanted to cry. Not because you felt sorry for yourself, but for them. Miguel, Eli, what would they do without you? You knew Austin would be fine, and Gina would have the others for support. But Eli and Miguel relied on you to a certain extent. You were their glue. That’s one of the reasons you never left, even though you should have. You should have left a long time ago. There was no way to tell them you were okay, or at least as okay as you could be.

No! There’s no way that’s the answer. I can’t believe it…not yet. You didn’t allow yourself the indulgence of shedding tears. You had to be strong until you could get back to them. You just had to figure out what was happening. But there was no way you’d be learning anything new from these people. You couldn’t get out of this place without their help. You were a lot of things, but you weren’t a defeatist. Going out without a plan in this kind of temperature was a death sentence if you weren’t already dead. You didn’t want to be stupid and take that kind of risk.

If I play along, I might have a chance.

And that’s all I need.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #arthur morgan #charles smith #javier escuella #lenny summers #sadie adler #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #tilly jackson #mary-beth gaskill #abigail marston #john marston #karen jones #bill williamson #micah bell #micah's a bitch

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