#ch: james sinclair

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Memorio Occultae In Nubio Occultas

1: Navigating through clouds unexpected.

Wishing @dreamer-in-sleep a very happy birthday! Here’s your present, buddy, an edit and a chapter of your favourite fic by yours truly.

Bottom centre image taken from VSF productions on Insta, top right image from mocatest, top left from radiopedia. Others are stock photos.

Taglist: @i-eat-worlds @sapphicwhumpblog @raat-jaaga-paakhi @shaonsim @cosmolibra @abstractmarshmallow

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TW: Yelling, character crying, character being self-castigating, mentions of dementia.

Note: Julianne is the nurse who, in the previous chapter, informed Adrian about the patient who turned out to be Alazne.

Rest of the chapter is under the cut.

Julianne frowns. Dr. Everheart can be very strange sometimes. Nevertheless, the young man is good at his job and a fast learner. He will, she decides, do just fine, fancies of thought aside. Perhaps the woman is a patient he knows.

She is puzzled when she can see the emergency waiting room, but not Dr. Everheart’s telltale curls. Before she can ponder on that further, her attention is captured by a woman’s strident tones.

“I said I refuse!” Dear God. A troublesome patient. Julianne arches a brow at one of the orderlies, who winces. “Call”- she starts, but she has no need to finish. “Dr. Everheart. I know. He’s the one who’s good at this kind of thing.” Julianne nods. “He is probably busy with a patient.” “Noted,” the orderly replies, setting off, presumably to search for him.

The agitated patient attains rather impressive heights of rage even as she’d talked to her colleague. “You want to restrain me from living my life. To think I was thinking of listening to you!” As Julianne takes a second to decide how best to intervene, scanning the surrounding area for possible ammunition that can be misused, a boyish, choked voice answers.

“I don’t…I wouldn’t ever do that…please, I want to make sure you’re fine, or if not, get you the help you need.”

Julianne finds it strange that people move away from a clearly distraught young man, obviously needing help, but that is what she sees. Nurses, her colleagues standing at a distance, their eyes averted.

She moves forward with purpose, trying to cut through the throng of onlookers, when the orderly returns, Dr. Sinclair with him. Julianne decides that she would rather face down an irate patient with help and changes her course, flagging the older man down.

“And who decides that, Dr. Everheart?” she hears the patient.

Dr. Everheart? She pauses, frowning.

The young man she’d heard didn’t sound like the gently confident neuropsychiatrist she is used to working with. He’d sounded rather close to tears instead. Who or what can affect calm Dr. Everheart so? She tries to locate him as she sees Dr. Sinclair move closer.

The woman continues to speak, obviously losing her temper by the second. “You?” she scoffs. “But of course, you do, don’t you, Dr. Everheart? You have that right. To label people incompetent, to take away their rights.”

Julianne breaks through the throng, all set to defend her colleague. She knows that Dr. Everheart does not merit such a label. One of the other nurses tugs at her hand. “Don’t,” she whispers. “I don’t think Adrian sir would want anyone to intercede.” “She can’t just”- Julianne cuts herself off when she sees Dr. Everheart.

He stands across from a woman, her back turned to him, tears pooling in his eyes, his hands reaching for her. He is speaking, too, voice choked and pleading, cutting off any thought of rebuttal Julianne had with the sheer emotion his voice holds.

“If I could…” his voice trails off, broken and quiet, “I would give each of my patients their lives as they were. I would not take away their rights, I wouldn’t still. I-” Urgent footsteps break the silence that falls for a second, and Dr. Sinclair stands between his student and the lady, who turns at the sound, her gritted jaw slackening even as the younger doctor pushes his words through tears that fall.

“You’re more than my l-life, you’re every-everything to me. The fact that you would think that I would-that I want to”- Dr. Sinclair puts a silent hand on Dr. Everheart’s shoulder, but the younger man is too distraught to notice. Julianne’s throat is choked, too.

How many times has she heard this young man laugh into his phone, the sentence “You are my everything, mama, I love you!” easily spoken? She had never thought she would hear the same as she was, and yet, here they were.

She wishes for the courage to intervene, but what could she say? She can only watch, helpless.

“I wouldn’t, mama, ever,” breathes Dr. Everheart, gasping through tears. Around her, people flinch. Some even shut their eyes, but no one moves forward. “Please.” The word is plaintive, a little boy pleading. “Just…humour me once and get cognitive testing. I’ll-I will keep away from you if you want. I’ll keep my dis-distance from you, just like you want. I didn’t know that I was-was restraining you, I just…just wanted to take care of you…” Julianne barely holds back a wince. He sounds terrified, and rightly so. Both of them know to spot the signs, he more than her.

Dr. Everheart’s mother seems to come to her senses somehow, responding to her distraught son. “Addy?” His response is still earnestly pleading. “Please. I-I won’t…” Dr. Sinclair quietly hugs the younger man, patting him on his back. “Addy…I am so sorry, dearheart. I said a lot I never should have. I just…I am scared, of what this could mean. I know you would never do anything of that sort, I was scared, I lost my temper and I took it out on you. I am sorry. I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

Dr. Adrian Everheart is immediately at his mother’s side, tears still clinging to his lashes, still wet on his cheeks. “It’s alright to be scared, mama.” His voice, gentle as he tries to be, is hoarse still. “How about we take this one step at a time?” He takes her hand. “Let me just nip into my office for my stuff, we’ll see what we can do about this, alright? I’ve got you.” His mother nods, and Julianne can only smile sadly. I’ve got you, she heard him say, and yet all she can hear instead is that Dr. Everheart is alone.

_______________________________________________

Mama is looking at him, he can feel her gaze. Adrian tries to relax his shoulders, to smile. He can feel the drying salt of tears chapping his face. He forces the smile nonetheless. Mama said she’s scared. I should be considerate.

He can no longer ignore the alarm bells in his head about her symptoms, but he can spare her premature worry. It doesn’t need to be onset of dementia, or even degenerative MCI. These symptoms can be because of social isolation, or anxiety, even electrolyte imbalances.

Dementia is a diagnosis of exclusion after all.

So Adrian smiles softly, watching mama relax at the sight of it. He keeps his touch casual. “Is this alright?” he asks. The question is a new one, but…he does not want to ignore her comfort as he may have been till now.

Mama looks down at his quiet question. “It’s fine, Addy. You don’t need to ask. Just be as you always are.” You said that I restrain you, he cannot help thinking. He forces the thought down.

Do not judge people by what they do or say when they are emotional. In his line of work, that was a hard-earned lesson. People’s thoughts are difficult to parse, especially when the observer is biased, like he is, when it comes to mama. Continuous observation is the key.

“Addy.” Adrian starts. “Where are you lost?” “Sorry, mama, I was lost in thought,” he responds. “Are you…upset?” Her question is hesitant. “No, of course not. You have the right to discipline me as you see fit. I was merely taken aback.” He laughs lightly. “We’re still going to get you tested. It’s just to rule things out, yeah? Don’t worry.” “Are you worried about it?” “I wouldn’t know, would I, unless we get the results?” “Addy”- he cuts her off.

“Give me a few minutes, mama. Please wait here, I’ll just be back.” He walks briskly into his office. He hears mama sigh. Adrian cannot help but deflect as he does. He doesn’t think he can handle the jumble of his own emotions at the moment. He knows that he has to take care of mama first.

He quickly finds his things. Files that he closes quickly to be read later, research proposals, and his beloved iPad mini. On reflex, he clicks the device on, one last run through of his most recent notes. Words and phrases jump at him.

On dementia, the title of the note. Vision:- Perception difficulties. Emotion: ?reduced range? Delay anxiety. Fear of losing control. Coping: Self-maintain; deny. Adjust for disabilities, do not dismiss concerns.

Delay anxiety. Fear of losing control. I was scared, and I took it out on you. Self-maintain; deny. I refuse!

Adrian swallows, shaking his head. I am thinking too much, too soon. He moves to the basin, washing his face. By the time he shuts the tap off, his skin is pink, small scratches on his cheeks bleeding little spots of blood.

He shakes his head, calm smile in place. Focus on mama, Adrian.

Dr. Sinclair meets them outside Adrian’s office. “I talked to Dr. Greengrass. She doesn’t see patients often, so she is free.” Adrian blinks. “Sir? I thought you”- Dr. Sinclair pats him on the shoulder. “You are my student, Adrian. The closest I have to a son. I cannot be unbiased. Though, of course, should you need any help, I am here for you.”

Adrian is at a loss for words. It is mama who answers. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “Addy needs someone in his corner.” “See?” asks his mentor, “your mother too thinks that is for the best.” Adrian nods automatically. “Forgive me, sir. I am a little out of my depth.” To say the least. “Understandably. Shall we?” Adrian follows, mama’s hand in his.

Sitting in Dr. Greengrass’s office, Adrian has to work to keep the smile on his face reassuring every time mama looks at him, work to bite his tongue and stop himself from interfering with the test scores, to keep the tears at bay.

For mama stumbles in a test too many. Adrian calculates the scores instinctively, having administered these exact tests too often not to do so.

Concerning cognitive decline for age and expected outcomes, especially in semantic analysis and visual perception.

Dr. Greengrass does not need to spell it out for the results to resound in his mind.

“Given your test scores, ma’am,” she starts, “and the neuroimaging, we should be watching out for a diagnosis of”- “Degenerative MCI.” Adrian only whispers it, too scared to say it louder, too keyed-up to stay quiet, but the older doctor catches it.

She looks sharply at him. Adrian looks down, uncomfortable, before her expression softens. “I’d rather overlooked that you are my younger colleague. I’m afraid I am rather out of touch with the rest of the department. I’ll have to ask further to my assistant about how to proceed. Before that, however, you are right. Would you prefer to take a moment to yourself before we discuss further?”

Adrian swallows. “No, ma’am. Shouldn’t you be discussing directly with mama, though?” He gestures to his mother, sitting beside him, her eyes closed.

The doctor looks conflicted. Adrian puts an arm around mama’s shoulder. She opens her eyes. “It’s bad, isn’t it, Addy? I don’t even know what that word means.”

Adrian swallows, blinking past tears. You’ve explained this and worse to so many people, you idiot. The words still stay stuck in his throat.

“It’s a variant of age-related memory disorders,” Dr. Greengrass answers gently. “It means your brain functions are declining faster than normal, but they are intact enough for daily functioning, though you will need assistance for visual perception.” She glances at her phone. “Apparently, we offer measures to reduce further cognitive decline, though you will have to speak to my younger colleagues for”-

Adrian intercedes. “There’s no need, ma’am.” “Ah, yes,” says the older doctor. “You would know the colleague in question better.” Adrian holds back a hysterical laugh. “I run the clinical interventions we do for people with cognitive deficits,” he says softly.

Both women look at him as one. “You do?” Dr. Greengrass asks, while mama simply smiles. Adrian nods. “Well, you’re in good hands, then, ma’am,” Dr. Greengrass replies. Mama nods with a laugh. “Of course I am.”

Adrian looks back at her sharply. “I cannot take clinical decisions”- his voice rises of it’s own accord. “No, of course not. I meant the caring side of things. Clinically, I will monitor your mother’s progress. We can work through a schedule together if necessary.” “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Addy, dearheart. Could you please wait outside for a few minutes? I need to ask the doctor something.” Mama asks him. Adrian rises without hesitation. “Of course.”

He waits with his back to the door, trying not to listen. “Would I…would I forget Addy, too?” His mother asks, voice cracking, and Adrian flinches, knowing the answer, should things deteriorate further.

He makes sure to be bent over his shoelaces when mama comes out. She relaxes when he doesn’t ask any questions, smiling instead. “Usual post-appointment mom-son day?” he asks, cheer in his voice. Mama takes his hand with an enthusiastic nod. “Yes!”

They go to her favourite restaurant, talk about everything and nothing, watch the sunset together and play game after game of ludo until she tires out. Adrian hugs mama, tucking her in bed, watching until she’s deeply asleep.

Then he takes his car, driving to the staff quarters, stopping in front of a familiar house. He rings the doorbell. When Dr. Sinclair opens the door, Adrian lets both the façade and the tears fall.

[crisis-and-cream]

So…does James just, have tracking powers too? Like in ch 8 of Dark Rise it seems like he’s doing a ritual with the Remnants and I’m wondering if that’s the Remnants’ ability and James is amplifying them or it’s both parties. And I don’t think it’s just because of the connection he and Will have because why would he need the torn fabric from Will’s jacket? I’m hoping the third book explores this. Maybe if he has something that belonged to Sinclair, they could find him?

[kaerwrites]

Dark Rise/Dark Heir thoughts under cut. Spoilery stuff; don’t click.

This is a combo of random thoughts while reading and live commentary as I finish out the last hundred or so pages.

Holy shit I was queasy nervous/excited the whole way through. It was slow reading because I was so scared but also because Pacat inspires me so much I kept having to stop and work on Obligation (and man I wish I could share it all in one fell swoop, yet I haven’t typed a single word of the next chapter and anyway where I am now - ch 30-something, everyone is going to be so MAD at me).

Unless I’m reading on kindle - and I’m not this time - I always flip to the end and read the last page a few chapters in. It’s the journey, not the destination for me, so I generally don’t mind spoilers. I’m usually more interested in how we got from point X to point Z. That was a mistake this time because it only made me more quivery with nerves. I don’t recommend spoiling yourself with this one.

Visander + Phillip = true peak comedy.

I am getting SUCH a WWX from The Untamed vibe from the story/the flashbacks. Maybe it’s too obvious/too easy and I’m wrong - but it really reminds me of the whole “I’m actually trying my best but everyone is scared of my death powers and I get blamed for everything” thing from that story. Again, probably wrong, but that’s where my head is. It’s my simple-minded Disney girl side that thinks Sarcean might have been the scapegoat and the Lady and the Sun King the bad guys. But I know that people aren’t just one thing and Pacat is so good at complexity. “We must Call for the King” probably refers to someone else, but what if in his state when he wrote that Marcus knew, and King was Dark King? Yes, some of Will’s memories do feel like an “evil king” but idk I feel like something other than “wanting power” pushed him over that edge. Even still, if it wasn’t like that before, it is now -for Will. But again… is history just repeating itself? Maybe everyone turning against him is what created him in the first place.

JAMES. My heart aches for Will, but you know my favorite is always going to be the bitchy blond. Their little moments together were SO GOOD and I have all the feels and… I want to believe the collar doesn’t really control James and he is acting. That it was a conceit to allow him to be with the one he wanted, to finally express his true desires. I know that’s not it, but I WANT it to be. It does seem like he has to follow direct orders, but otherwise he’s still himself? Uggggh…

I don’t understand the choice to make the series YA. I want porn. 😂😂

I DO have other James feels that don’t have anything to do with Will or romance I promise. Ugh that moment when Ettore touched him and he was surprised he wasn’t being attacked because he wasn’t used to kindness from Stewards? BABY. Honestly the whole scene with the Gate fucking broke me. The scene with Sloane/Sinclair was so disgusting; I was getting Regent vibes.

I called the Devil being Ettore and Visander being Sandy right away.

When Cyprian drank I kept thinking of this episode of Angel where Angel and Spike and rushing against each other to get to this cup first and Spike wins and drinks from this supposedly magical chalice and then pulls back, and in confusion says… “It’s Mountain Dew.” My silliness did not ruin the moment between him and Violet though.

The Cyprian/Will showdown hurt. I’ve had people I trusted turn on me with with accusations and no way to defend myself too. (And people who meant so much to me then it turned out I was nothing to them, but that’s beside the point.) I felt that so hard. (An aside: I don’t remember; do we know who Will’s father was? Was it Sinclair or some random dude?)

“Later, she’d remember that Will had been the only one talking about stopping the army, while the rest of them were caught up in old feuds.” Violet, I do fucking love you.

GODS, Will possessing all the branded men and them all speaking at once. Ok that’s fucking creepy.

James’s arrival gives me life. Even with the collar. (☹️😭) “Darling, I’m not here to kill you.” 😭😭

…flying away was kind of dumb. Like. I’m not talking tactically; In my head it just looks stupid and cheesy.

Anyway. I’m destroyed. How many years till the next one?

[fanfic-wonderland]

Fanfiction Masterlist

🄻🄸🅂🅃 🄾🄵 🄵🄰🄽🄳🄾🄼🅂 🄸 🅆🅁🄸🅃🄴 🄵🄾🅁

WATTPAD

𝕋𝕍 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕤/𝕄𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕤

𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗢𝗳 𝗡𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗮

𝗚𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗢𝗳 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀

𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗣𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

One-Shots:

Harry Potter:

Shut The F*ck Up

Ron Weasley:

Let Me Protect You

Hermione Granger:

Ginny Weasley:

Fred Weasley:

George Weasley:

Neville Longbottom:

Seamus Finnigan:

Dean Thomas:

Luna Lovegood:

Cedric Diggory:

Draco Malfoy:

Blaise Zabini:

James Potter:

Sirius Black:

He'll Kill Us Both

Remus Lupin:

Regulus Black:

Kiss The Boy

Lily Evans:

Tom Riddle:

(Love)Sick

Birthday Boy

Slave For You

Series:

Harry Potter:

Ron Weasley:

Hermione Granger:

Ginny Weasley:

Fred Weasley:

George Weasley:

Neville Longbottom:

Seamus Finnigan:

Dean Thomas:

Luna Lovegood:

Cedric Diggory:

Draco Malfoy:

Blaise Zabini:

James Potter:

Sirius Black:

Remus Lupin:

Lily Evans:

Tom Riddle:

Tom x Assasin!Reader

part 1 | part 2 (mature)

Chasing Time

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗚𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀

𝗢𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗨𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝗔 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

One-Shots:

Mike Wheeler:

El/Jane Hopper:

Dustin Henderson:

Will Byers:

Lucas Sinclair:

Max Mayfield:

Nancy Wheeler:

Jonathan Byers:

Steve Harrington:

Robin Buckley:

Eddie Munson:

Billy Hargrove:

Series:

Mike Wheeler:

El/Jane Hopper:

Dustin Henderson:

Will Byers:

Lucas Sinclair:

Max Mayfield:

Nancy Wheeler:

Jonathan Byers:

Steve Harrington:

Robin Buckley:

Eddie Munson:

Purple Angel

Ch.1 | Ch.2

Billy Hargrove:

𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗧𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗺𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮 𝗔𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝘆

﹤⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹡⊹﹡⳾ ⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹥

𝔸𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕖/𝔸𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕤

ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛɪᴛᴀɴ

One-Shots:

Eren Yeager

Armin Arlert

Mikasa Ackerman

Levi Ackerman

USELESS

Reiner Braun

Bertholdt Hoover

Jean Kirstein

Connie Springer

Sasha Blouse

Hange Zoë

Historia Reiss

Ymir Fritz

Erwin Smith

Zeke Yeager

Pieck Finger

ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ: ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴀɪʀʙᴇɴᴅᴇʀ

ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ ꜱʟᴀʏᴇʀ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

ᴋᴀɢᴜʏᴀ-ꜱᴀᴍᴀ: ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴡᴀʀ

ꜱᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ

ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜ!!

ʏᴜʀɪ!!! ᴏɴ ɪᴄᴇ

ᴀꜱꜱᴀꜱꜱɪɴ’ꜱ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ

ᴢᴏᴍʙɪᴇ ʟᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀɢᴀ

ʜᴏʀɪᴍɪʏᴀ

ᴘᴜᴇʟʟᴀ ᴍᴀɢɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴏᴋᴀ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀ

ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ʙᴇᴀᴛꜱ!

ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴍᴏɴ

ᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴛɪᴛᴀɴꜱ

ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

ᴡɪɴx ᴄʟᴜʙ

ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ

ʜᴏᴡʟ’ꜱ ᴍᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ

﹤⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹡⊹﹡⳾ ⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹥

𝕂ℙ𝕆ℙ

(𝗚)𝗜-𝗗𝗟𝗘

𝗔.𝗖.𝗘

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭

One-Shots:

Hongjoong:

Seonghwa:

Yunho:

Here For You

Alive.

Yeosang:

San:

Mingi:

Wooyoung:

Jongho:

𝗕.𝗔.𝗣

𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗞

𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗕

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗭

𝗕𝗧𝗢𝗕

One-Shots:

Reactions:

Them And Reader Being Judges In Produce X 101

𝗕𝗧𝗦

𝗗𝗔𝗬𝟲

𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿

𝗘𝗫𝗢

Series:

Suho

Xiumin

Lay

Baekhyun

Chen

Chanyeol

The Way I Feel Inside

1 |

D.O.

Kai

Sehun

𝗚𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱

𝗚𝗢𝗧𝟳

Jay B

Mark

Jackson

Fall

Jinyoung

Pride With You

Youngjae

BamBam

Yugyeom

𝗚𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗚𝘂𝘆𝘀

𝗶𝗞𝗢𝗡

𝗜𝗠𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧

𝗜𝗡𝟮𝗜𝗧

𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗘

𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗡𝗔

𝗠𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗢

𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗔 𝗫

𝗢𝗛 𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟

𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗨𝗦

𝗢𝗡𝗙

𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗢𝗡

𝗥𝗲𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘁

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗲

𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡

Series:

The8

Xu Minghao & Fem!Reader As YouTubers

1 | 2

𝗦𝗙𝟵

Misc:

SF9 As The Office Characters

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝗞𝗶𝗱𝘀

𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗢𝗣

𝗧𝗪𝗜𝗖𝗘

𝗧𝗫𝗧

One-Shots:

Series:

Soobin

Say You Love Me

1 | 2

Yeonjun

Beomgyu

Taehyun

Huening Kai

𝗨𝗣𝟭𝟬𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝗩𝗔𝗩

𝗩𝗜𝗫𝗫

𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥

𝗫𝟭

﹤⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹡⊹﹡⳾ ⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹥

[choicesenthusiast]

Queen B, Ch. 13 AKA Blackmail

What happened this week:

Dean What’s-Her-Face requests us and Poppy to plan the infamous year-end gala, as well as give a tour to Belvoire’s most humble jock alumni, Chase McGovern. Also he’s a tight end! I’m surprised they realized that a football team does not only consist of, like, a quarterback and some various other dudes who just exist. Constantly one-up Poppy on the tour with the magical power of passive-aggressiveness.

Finally apologize to Zoey using either your new friend Chase McGovern and his merch, or your old friend: public humiliation. Though I fail to see how streaking or bad singing equates to exposed private mugshots and getting egged tomato’d. All that aside, Zoey forgives you, but you’re still on friend probation. I’ll take it, though. Anything to have her back on my screen.

Go to the library to continue your ploy for the throne with Zoey, only to be interrupted by Kingsley and your “libido”, seeing as the writers used that word twice in, like, two minutes. I know I shouldn’t be nitpicking something so insignificant, but I can’t help it. I once read a rather lengthy book and subconsciously counted how many times “dank” was used. Three times, if you’re wondering.

Sneak up into Poppy’s room again (brings back bad memories, I know), this time to find her blackmail and get rid of it. You may or may not stumble upon Carter’s nudes, as well as her big, sad sob story secret: she’s not actually Piers Sinclair’s daughter. Shocking, isn’t it? She’s bastard scum! It does take one to know one, after all.

Victory and revelation is short lived, as Chloe St. James discovers you snooping. Don’t worry, it appears that there’s one more empty spot of our posse pic, reserved just for you.

Thoughts:

I appreciate the friend probation but the way Zoey ripped into MC before that? We love to see it. And the line about putting “sorry” into a vending machine and expecting instant forgiveness? It sounds like something you’d hear at a high school assembly, but fuck, that’s a great line.

I have been listening to the Broadway Mean Girls soundtrack way too much again recently and after reading this chapter I can’t get Revenge Party out of my head. Sorry to burden you with my theater kid woes, but this chapter did have Revenge Party vibes. I can’t wait for the actual gala. Now that’ll be one hell of a Revenge Party.

Not gonna lie, I was kinda hoping the pictures would be exposed just so we can see the absolute worst scenario. A crazy fallout. Maybe a brawl? It would’ve been an epic World Burn moment. Ooh, will that happen at the gala? Will MC be the Regina? I’m too wrapped up in these parallels.

Okay, if you were here when I did my Mother of the Year reviews you might remember I only referred to Guy and Vanessa as the Bastard and the Bitch, respectively, and in a truly poetic wraparound to this book, we now know that Poppy is both the bastard and the bitch! Oh, the world works in such wondrous ways!

[homiegeesus]

The Year of Magical Thinking, Ch. 3

Summary: Francis Sinclair believed Arthur Morgan had not finished living. In a second chance at life, Arthur discovers what it means to love himself.

At the edge of a precipice and nowhere to run, Arthur concedes defeat. In an extraordinary turn of events, he is sent through the ether to another time where his path crosses with a group not too unlike his own family. After discovering the fate of those he loved before, he races to find a way back. But what if he realizes that there is something worth staying for in this new world? Can two people separated by nearly a hundred and twenty years of living find their happily ever after?

AO3 Link (edit: link fixed)

Author’s Note: So sorry for saying that I would post yesterday when I did not. We had some terrible weather 'round here, and it took me forever to get home last night. Long chapter is long, though. I know y'all are probably like "where is your OFC"? Well, she'll be introduced in the next chapter, I promise. I should have it posted in a couple of days. Shoutout to TheTiniestTortoise ( @shallow-gravy​ ) who has valiantly offered to beta this story (this chapter was not). Fair warning: I'm seriously going to take you up on this, so be prepared lmao. In the meantime, y'all need to go read "Blackbird's Song". It's a fantastic ArthurxOC take on the RDR2 plot, seriously drop everything and read it! Also, I created a "We Heart It" collection thing where I pin images that inspire me while writing. Just a warning, though: It might spoil some elements of the story. If you don't want any idea of where I'm taking the plot, do not click here.

Thank you to @tiesthatbind1899​​ (author of Memories of the West - another must read), for the idea. You're awesome. 

Almost forgot, in this story, Blackwater is Dallas. I read in the wiki that Blackwater was likely modeled after early 20th century Dallas, so I'm running with it. Plus, it's where I live, and even though most authors can't agree on whether you should "write what you know", this is fanfiction, so hell yes I will write what I know...at least in the first few chapters lol. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, and as always, constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated!

The Year of Magical Thinking

Chapter 3 - American Remains

Not knowing if the doctor wanted Arthur to follow, he stood for a moment and stared at the carving on the cave wall. After Steven exited the chamber, the cave was again silent allowing Arthur to observe and reflect. His fingers traced the broad lines of the design as he pondered just how the whole situation had come to pass. What an interesting sequence of events. One moment, Arthur was dying and the next he was not. Having been a hair’s breath away from death had changed him fundamentally. Suddenly being thrust into wellness had been jarring, to say the least. Itching to sketch the new carving, he reached to his side for his journal. Hand feeling empty air where his satchel would usually be, he closed his eyes and covered his face.

In a last act of brotherly affection, Arthur had given John his most important possessions: his father’s hat and his satchel along with everything in it. Suddenly, a deep homesickness fell on him like anvil. The realization that he would never see his family again caused a well of emotions to rise up and threaten to consume him whole. He didn’t belong in this place. If Arthur was a part of a dying breed back then, then how would one hundred and twenty years of so-called progress treat him? With no place to call home and not a penny to his name, how would he survive?

Feeling suddenly claustrophobic in this cool, damp place, Arthur turned and followed the path of Steven’s exit. As the natural light of the sun reached him, he felt a wave of humid heat hit his face, instantly causing tiny rivulets of sweat to breakout across his forehead. Finally exiting the cave, he stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. Even in the heat, Arthur delighted in clean, easy breathing. Tortured by diseased lungs in the past months, he had forgotten what it meant to be well.

Looking at his surroundings, he spotted Steven near a table off to the left of the clearing. Arthur began walking towards him, that is, until he spotted the younger man talking to himself. Rooted in place, he observed Steven holding what appeared to be a small black book while gesturing wildly with his arms.

Damn it, you old fool, Arthur inwardly chastised. He had driven the man to madness with his scarcely believable tale. He walked closer to make out the words coming from the young doctor. That’s when he heard the other voice bleeding from the air that surrounded them.

“Steven, my love, my future husband, my everything – if you do not make it to this dinner, I will leave you. And then, I’ll cancel you. You will be canceled!” The voice yelled, sounding as if it came from a phonograph. Arthur furrowed his brow and looked for the source.

“Nick,” Steven responded in voice that even Arthur could tell was full of condescension, “first of all, you know I love you, but you also know I hate these dinners. Secondly, I just told you that something came up at work.” He then cradled the little black book in both hands, thumbs moving wildly over the cover. “It’s incredibly important that –”

Nick interrupted, “It’s incredibly important that you be at this dinner. Steven, we’ve had this planned for two weeks. All of the partners are going to have their significant others with them. They’re expecting you there. They all fucking love you; always like ‘Steven is so charming’ or ‘God Nick, how did you bag a guy like Steven? He’s so funny and you are so – not.’”

Steven laughed, “They don’t say that.” He finally glanced up in Arthur’s direction, smile falling from his face.

“Ugh, yes they do. It’s annoying as shit. I mean, I can be funny,” the voice replied. Steven began looking from the book to Arthur and back again in quick succession.

“Babe, I gotta call you back –”

“Steven –”

“Nick,” Steven interrupted sternly, “I’ll call you right back, I promise.” Call? Arthur thought to himself. That little black book’s a telephone? Nah…

Nick sighed loud enough for both men to hear. “Just please show up tonight. It’s all I ask.”

Steven nodded as if he could be seen. Arthur thought maybe he could. They each said ‘I love you’ and Steven glanced up at him.

“Holy shit,” was all he said. 

“What?” Arthur frowned.

Steven just shook his head and held out the little book, or whatever it was. From where Arthur was standing, he could barely discern what looked like a photograph. Steven glanced quickly between the object in his hand and Arthur’s face. He seemed to realize the older man’s cluelessness.

He dropped his arm halfway and grinned, “Oh sorry, you’re probably like ‘what the hell is this?” He gestured to the device and laughed. “Jesus, well, this is a phone. A telephone.” A flipped it in his hands, and then held it out to Arthur. “Go ahead. Check it out.”

Arthur stepped closer and cautiously took the gadget. Looking at it, what he saw would take him back some five years ago to a hunting trip he, John and Hosea had embarked upon in Tall Trees, a year before John had left to God knows where. The trip had been a fruitful one, as the trio had taken down a bear with size to rival the one they had caught in the Grizzlies. It was a good memory, set before his relationship with John had descended into spite and jealousy. He stared at the photograph, the sepia tone making it seem so unreal when his memories burst with color. Arthur, John and Hosea looking as serious as three feared outlaws could, each held rifles behind a large grizzly bear.

Arthur looked up to Steven, “Where’d ya get this?”

The corners of his mouth quirked as if he went to smile but then thought better of it. “That’s a, uh, long story. But I mean –,” Steven then smiled, “it’s you.” He laughed a little manically, “That’s you in that photo.”

Arthur, not realizing the significance of this moment, just replied with a shrug of his large shoulders, “Yeah.”

Steven briefly ran a finger over his lips as he continued to smile, “Dear God. How the hell did this happen?”

“Ain’t gotta clue,” the outlaw replied simply.

Steven just shrugged. “Well, in any case, we have to figure out what we’re gonna do with you. I mean,” he laughed, “you could come home with me, but my, uh – Nick would probably freak the hell out.” A considering look passed over his face. “Hey, you said you were sick before?”

Arthur nodded, “Yeah, but I ain’t coughin’ no more.”

“Tuberculosis?” Steven supplied. The other man’s eyes narrowed fractionally.

“How’d you know?” The doctor just gave a toothy grin.

“Mr. Morgan, you’re quite famous. Like Jesse James.” At Arthur’s perplexed face, he continued, “Didn’t you, like, have your own gang, or something? You know, like Jesse James did?”

Arthur laughed, “What? No.” He shook his head, “I was in one, but I weren’t the leader. That was Dutch.” Steven’s face lit in recognition.

“Oh yeah,” he then looked off to the side. “I haven’t seen any westerns since I was a kid, so I’m only vaguely familiar with the history.” He looked back to Arthur with a smile, “My friend Ada would know. She loves them.”

“Uh-huh. Western? Like a dime novel?” The outlaw asked, head tilted in question.

Steven shook his head. “No, movies. They’re like, uh –,” obviously wondering how to explain, “you know, moving pictures.”

“Oh yeah, I know ‘bout them. Used to go to the theater on special occasions an’ such,” Arthur recalled.

“Well, they’re a little different now,” the doctor laughed. “They’re in color and have sound, so –”

Arthur tracked his thumb across his stubbled chin. “Ain’t that somethin’,” he replied a bit in awe.

Steven smiled, “Yeah well, you’ve been portrayed a couple times, I think.”

Amazed, Arthur responded, “Yer kiddin’.” The younger man just shook his head.

“Nope. The only ones I know of came out a long time ago, like the ‘40s or ‘50s. Maybe earlier.” The outlaw lightly laughed.

He looked slyly to Steven. “Were they, uh – were they handsome?” The corner of Arthur’s mouth ticked slightly up.

Steven barked out a quick laugh. “Oh yeah. They were.” He shot the other man another toothy smile. “Though, I’m beginning to think that they didn’t do you justice!”

Unfamiliar with such bald-faced compliments, Arthur bowed his head in an attempt to hide the shy smile forming on his face. Damn it all, he didn’t have his hat. He just swatted his hand and said, “Nah.”

Steven was apparently having none of that. “Trust me, Arthur. Even covered in dirt, you’re a tall drink of water on a hot day.” He let out a loud guffaw at the sight of the blush that crept up on Arthur’s face. “I’m just messin’ with ya.”

Arthur just shrugged and tried to conjure up what little was left of his mean outlaw persona. “Yeah, well –”

“Alright,” laughing again, Steven stepped past Arthur, clapping him on his shoulder. “I’m gonna go turn off the generator and stuff, and then we’ll figure out what to do.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What in the hell was he going to do? Nick would kill him. No doubt about it. His future husband would whip out that Latin Fire and scorch him where he stood. Steven could see the inevitable conversation play out in his head. ‘Honey, I’ve brought home an outlaw from the 19th century. He’s going to be staying with us for a while. Oh, and he has a gun, and he could shoot us in our sleep and rob our corpses.’

“Jesus,” Steven said quietly to himself as he gathered the equipment around the worksite. His morbid train of thought was then interrupted by the shrill sound of his cellphone ringing. Grabbing the device from his back pocket, he looked at the screen.

Nick, the ID screamed at him. Steven stared at it a moment before answering.

“I swear I was just about to call you,” he started. He could hear the eye roll coming through the phone.

“Uh-huh. Why did you tell Jeremy to go home earlier?”

Shit. “Well, I uh –,” completely unsure with what to say and totally unfamiliar with lying to his partner, he explained the best he could. First though, “How did you know I sent Jeremy home?”

“You sounded weird when I spoke to you last, so I texted him. Stop trying to change the subject.”

Figures. He needed to teach the kid about worksite discretion. But right now, he had to get through this conversation. “Something did come up. Nick, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Nick responded in a concerned voice, “Steven, what is it? What happened?”

“Well – you see – I, uh, I’ve met someone else, and I’ve decided that we’re going to be together.” Steven paused a second, then added, “I’m leaving you.”

“Good lord, Steven. Be serious. I’m sitting here thinking you’re about to tell me you have cancer or something.”

“Oh, no. I’m healthy as a horse. I am leaving you, though.”

“Mi amor. Please. What’s going on?” Nick was sounding legitimately concerned now.

Steven sighed, “Look, I’ll tell you everything. This evening.” He added, “Just trust me. We’ll talk about it tonight after dinner, I promise.”

Giving a light chuckle, Nick reassured, “Okay, okay. I trust you. I wouldn’t be marrying you if I didn’t.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Steven turned and looked at Arthur across the clearing. The outlaw was sitting at the picnic table, arms folded. Suddenly remembering a part of their conversation from earlier, he looked again to his phone. Selecting a contact, he dialed Lauren Linklater’s number. She answered on the third ring.

“Linklater.”

“Hey, it’s Steven. You gotta minute?”

He could hear a distinct crunching noise. “I’m at lunch. What’s up?” Always succinct and to the point. Steven appreciated that right now.

“Well, I have a question about something. Completely hypothetical,” he started.

“Okay.” She waited for him to elucidate.

“Okay, so again, completely hypothetical –”

“Steven.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“I’ve got like ten minutes to eat before I have to go put my hands in some dude’s chest cavity –”

“Right. Yeah, sorry, so – say someone traveled through time from, I dunno, 1899 to our time. Would you be concerned about them getting deathly sick from something really simple, like a common cold? Would they be more susceptible?” Then he remembered, “Oh, and what if they had tuberculosis before they – you know, time-traveled?”

Steven figured she might be chewing her lunch, when it took a moment for her to answer.

“Is this a part of your weird cave art or something?” She asked.

“Rock carvings,” he corrected. “Well, kinda. I mean, yes. It is.” He explained, “I’m asking you because it’s a little bit outside my purview.”

“Okay, well, it’s a little bit outside of mine, too. This would be a great question for, I dunno, an epidemiologist or – heh, Doc Brown. I’m a general surgeon.”

Steve sighed, “Right. I just needed a quick opinion, so –”

“I just don’t want to give you incorrect information, especially for your job, ya know? If this is off the record, or whatever, I can try to resurrect some of the ole braincells from med school.”

He laughed, “Yes, if you could do that, I’d appreciate it.”

“Okay, so I probably wouldn’t be too concerned about this hypothetical person getting a modern day cold. Our immune systems are pretty badass, and it’s been that way for a long time. I’d be more concerned about a modern-day person going back, like, five hundred years, I guess. Still, I would maybe want to do a blood test and a cheek swab to make sure they’re not bringing small pox or something with ‘em. You say this hypothetical dude had TB?”

“Yeah, but afterwards, he didn’t have any signs of still being sick. And before, he was near death, like minutes or hours away.”

“Okay, well, they’d probably need to get checked out anyways. TB is highly treatable with antibiotics these days, so not much to worry about. If this dude wasn’t showing any signs of illness, chances are he didn’t bring it with him.” She then began to laugh.

“What?” Steven asked.

“Nothing, just – we’re talking about it like it exists. I dunno, just thought that was funny.”

“Yeah,” he breathed a laugh. He heard her begin chewing again.

“Steven.”

“What?”

He could hear the smile in her voice, “Did you find a diseased time-traveler?”

“Very funny,” Steven muttered sarcastically. “I’ll let you get back to your lunch, and your – chest cavity.”

Lauren laughed, “Okay, let me know how your project goes.”

“Will do.”

Hanging up, Steven sighed. Thinking about where in the hell he could stash a time-traveling cowboy, he walked back over to Arthur. The outlaw was hunched over the picnic table, staring intently at his hands. He looked up when Steven’s boots entered his field of vision.

“Well, we gotta head out pretty soon before traffic gets too bad.” He glanced in the direction of his car beyond the wall of pine trees.

Arthur frowned, “Traffic?”

Steven nodded, “Yup. You know, lots of vehicles, people.”

“Yeah, I know what traffic is. Jus’ wonderin’ if we’ll be goin’ through a city?” He clarified.

Motioning for Arthur to follow him, Steven elaborated, “Yeah, but not for a while. It’s pretty crazy, but it’s not just the cities that hold most people now. There are a shit ton of people in the boonies, too.” Judging by his expression, Arthur didn’t seem to like that little tidbit. Steven pointed to a couple of small crates, “Mind helping me carry these?”

Arthur moved to pick up one of the containers, “Naw, ‘course not.” Both men began walking along a path surrounded by trees leading out to the parking lot. Steven let out a loud laugh at Arthur’s face when they reached his silver Ford truck.

They sat down the crates as Arthur took a moment to absorb the vehicle in front of him.

Steven, thinking of the Bon Jovi song, tried his best to explain. “It’s like, uh, a steel horse. Ya know – “

Arthur just looked to him with a sardonic face, “I know whatta automobile is.”

Steven nodded, “Oh, right.”

“They’re just, ah – a li’l different than I remember ‘em.” Walking around the perimeter of Steven’s car, Arthur seemed to observe every little detail. Almost like an artist would a subject, he thought vaguely.

“Yeah, well.” Steven kicked a rock at his foot. “Wait ‘till you get inside.”

“Huh,” the cowboy huffed. Coming to stand beside Steven, he looked to the younger man. Placing his hands on his hips, Arthur pondered, “Just how would one go ‘bout doin’ that?”

Steven huffed out a laugh, “We’ll get to that, but first, we need to, uh – talk about your, uh, gun.”

“You ain’t takin’ my gun, Doc.”

“Steven, and it’s just –”, Steven took a step forward. Arthur’s hand went to his pistol grip, as if preparing to draw, and Steven shot his hands up in surrender. “Woah, I’m – I’m not going to take your gun, well – not for what you think. Can you just please take your hand off the gun? Please, don’t shoot me.”

Arthur acquiesced by removing his hand and briefly raising it palm forward in the air.

“Look, I’m not trying to take your gun, at least not for why you’re thinking. It’s just – times have changed. You can’t just walk around strapped like Jesse James.” Arthur quirked a dark brow. “I mean, this is Texas, but still. Cops can have itchy trigger fingers ‘round here.”

“Ain’t that all the more reason I should keep my gun?” Arthur’s deep voice drawled.

“No! Absolutely not!” Steven laughed incredulously. “I mean, that may seem logical to you, I guess, but trust me when I say you do not want to go shooting cops. ‘Law and order’ is – well, it’s just not the same as it used to be.”

Arthur looked pensive for a moment as he stared at Steven, as if to determine if the younger man was being truthful. Finally, his hands went to the buckle of his gun belt to loosen it. “You ain’t gonna make me regret this, are ya?”

Steven exhaled a nervous laugh, “What? No, no. I mean, you have more of a chance of being, I dunno, sucked up by a tornado than you have of being shot at between here and where we’re going.”

“Uh-huh, and jus’ where are we goin’?”

“Well, that’s TBD.” At Arthur’s confused expression, Steven quickly amended, “To be determined.”

“A’right,” the cowboy waved a hand in the air. “Let’s get a move on then.”

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

After placing the crates inside of the bed and Arthur’s gun belt under the backseat, the men climbed into the monstrosity of an automobile. Steven had shown Arthur how to open the door and put on a seatbelt, but it seemed easy enough. Sitting in the interior of this modern-day work horse, he luxuriated in the leather seat. He ran his fingers along the armrest, the treated leather feeling like smooth silk against his calloused hands. Looking up, his antiquated mind tried to conjure up why a person would need all these knobs and dials. What was their purpose? Steven settled into the seat beside him.

“You ready?”

“I gotta choice?”

Steven quirked a brow, “Not really.”

“Well then. There’s yer answer.”

And with that, the young doctor turned on the beast beneath them. Arthur did not expect the burst of noise that felt as if it hit him physically. Steven reached for the dials in front of them and quickly apologized.

“Oh god, sorry! I forgot I had the radio on, I’m so sorry,” he said quickly.

“Good god, man. How do you still have yer hearin’?” Arthur questioned, absolutely astonished.

“Yeah, that was loud. It keeps me going on a long drive.” He laughed, “I’m so sorry.”

Arthur just shook his head, “What in the hell was that?”

“Uh, music. Metallica, I think.”

The outlaw stared at Steven like he’d grown two heads, “Music? What the hell kinda music is that?” He shook his head. “Sounded like a thousand cats dyin’.”

Steven shrugged, “I think they’d like that comparison.”

The doctor tinkered with some levers and such around the wheel, and suddenly they were moving. Exiting the area, they pulled out onto the road. Despite the anxiety Arthur felt at the fast movement, he decided it wasn’t too terrible. That is until the speed caused his world to tilt.

Steven was chatting away about where they were going and what they would do when they got there, when Arthur began to feel utterly nauseated. Mesmerized by the white lines in the middle of the road as they moved past so quickly that they turned into one blur, his vision doubled, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. If Steven noticed, he didn’t say anything, so preoccupied as he was.

“I mean, we have a pullout couch. But our place is tiny. We’d be like sardines in a can. You had those in your time –”

“Doc.”

“– right? Of course, you did. Well, we’d be like sardines. It’d be uncomfortable. I’d ask –”

“Doc.”

 “– Lauren, but she’s a doctor. She’s always working. It’s not like –”

“Pull over.”

“– I can leave you alone. Holy shit, I know who –”

Arthur finally raised his voice, “Steven!

Confused, Steven replied, “What?”

Looking at the other man, Arthur gritted lowly, “Stop this damn contraption ‘fore I vomit all o’er this nice leather.” Finally understanding, Steven pulled to the side of the road. As Arthur went to hop down from the vehicle, something jerked him back into place. Before the outlaw could grab his knife, Steven calmly reached over and unbuckled the belt. Murmuring a quick ‘thanks’, Arthur hauled himself out of the truck and into the field. A loud horn from another passing vehicle would have scared him out of his boots, if he hadn’t been so overcome with nausea.

Steven yelled a sarcastic, “Ok, thank you!” before saying to himself, “Asshole.”

Wiping his mouth, Arthur turned and walked back to the truck. Once they were both inside, Steven looked at him.

“You okay?” He asked, concerned. Arthur just nodded. Steven continued, “I didn’t even think about you getting motion sickness. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“S’alright,” Arthur said quietly.

The doctor handed him a bright pink pill of some sort and what looked like a clear canteen.

“It’ll help with the dizziness. Plus, it might even help you get some rest. We got a couple hours drive before we reach the city.” Arthur took it without question, washing it back with the warm water as Steven pulled the truck back onto the road.

He questioned, “City?”

“Yeah. Blackwater.”

Unable to help it, Arthur felt his blood run cold. Knowing that his bounty was long gone was not enough to keep his anxiety from spiking. Arthur did not say anything. This man knew his name, did he know his sins? Would he still be so generous and willing to take him in, knowing the blackness of the outlaw’s heart?

Steven briefly glanced his way. “I have an idea about where you can stay. I have to call her, but I know she’ll be okay with it.” He looked back at Arthur. “I think you’ll like her.”

Arthur just nodded, feeling the effect of the medicine begin to take hold. Eyelids turning heavy, he shifted until his head lulled forward. Exhaustion catching up with him, he surrendered to Morpheus in a dreamless sleep.

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Beautiful Trauma 3- This Love Is Pain- [Billy Hargrove x OC]

Summary: Billy and Valerie have an encounter at Tina’s Halloween Party.

Characters: Billy Hargrove x OC, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers x Nancy Wheeler, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Max Mayfield, Eleven, Joyce Byers, Jim Hopper

Warnings: Child abuse, underage sex, underage drinking, implied cheating, step-sibling incest, step-sibling relationship, violence, language

Ch. 2

"Love me still but know not why."

~ John Wilbye

The party was in full swing when Valerie arrived. Bodies crowded the entryway and she had to throw elbows to move around. The music was thumping throughout the house, shaking the walls and ringing in her ears. The chatter between people was white noise in her ears as she moved through the rooms.

Her red hair was brushed back with a purple headband. She had on a lavender dress with a green scarf and purple high heels. Her sheer tights did little in the way of warding off the cold but Max had told her to go as Daphne and she didn’t have any better ideas. 

Billy had left an hour before she had. She didn’t ask for a ride and he didn’t offer. She had no desire to be around him after his stunt on the way home from school. She berated him at home, told him he could’ve killed those kids but he shrugged her off, claimed he wouldn’t have hit them. Valerie didn’t tell him that she thought he was lying. 

She had convinced her mom to drop her off at the party on her way. Susan was dropping Max off in the wealthier part of Hawkins to trick or treat while she socialized with the other moms as they watched their kids with negligent eyes. Susan hadn’t said anything when they stopped in front of Tina’s house but Valerie could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t think it was a good idea. 

Valerie had waved them off with a floppy hand and a firm, “Billy will take me home” before Susan drove off down the crowded lane. Valerie had watched her taillights disappear before she ventured inside the house. 

So far, she’d seen five faces that she recognized from school. She gave herself a pat on the back considering so many people were wearing masks and face paint of some kind. 

She looked towards the back of the house when she heard chants of Billy’s name. She saw him walk inside from the backyard, his leather jacket open over his bare chest. His chin was shiny with beer that ran in trails down his neck and chest. The ends of his hair was wet as well and she could see a streamer of toilet paper wrapped around his hand like he was going to wipe his face. 

His eyes were focused on someone down and to her left and, when she looked, she saw Steve and Nancy leaning against the wall. Billy and his new entourage approached and she looked away.

She ventured into the kitchen and found a foggy bowl of red punch. She took a cup from the overturned stack and dipped it deep into the murky liquid. She sniffed it once and, finding it appealing enough, took a long drag. She coughed once and licked her lips, savoring the burn of the liquor as it traveled down her throat to her belly, the burn warming her from the inside out. 

She turned to leave and stopped at the glistening chest in front of her. She looked up and met Billy’s droopy blue eyes. He grinned down lazily at her and reached around for a cup. He dipped it into the punch bowl and drained it in three swallows. She pretended not to be transfixed by the muscles of his throat working beneath his skin. 

“Hey Daphne, where’s Scooby?” He drawled. She sneered up at him and pushed passed him. She didn’t need to see to know that he was following her. 

She pushed through the crowd and found a staircase. She gripped the knob of the banister and took the steps two at a time. Her calves were burning when she reached the top but she didn’t see him behind when she checked. 

She sighed and walked deeper down the hallway, examing the pictures hanging on the walls. 

She ignored the sounds of sex as she passed by the various rooms. She stopped in front of a door that was surprisingly silent and twisted the knob. She had it open a crack when she felt hands at her waist. She shrieked and turned violently, hands up to strike her assailant. 

She felt a righteous anger well up in her chest when she heard Billy’s familiar laughter. She shoved him back and he stumbled half a step. 

“You’re an asshole, Billy.” She spun on her heel and entered the empty bedroom. He followed her and closed the door behind him. He was still laughing, wiping away fake tears as he leaned up against the door. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mayfield, but it was too easy.” He sighed and copied her stance, his arms tight across his chest. She ignored the way his jacket strained against his arms and shoulders. 

“What are you even supposed to be?” She scoffed. Billy smirked and pushed off the door, doing a dramatic spin and bowing. “I’m a rebel without a cause.” He snorted and shook his head. She couldn’t help the smile that began to stretch across her face. 

This was the Billy she remembered. The one who could laugh at himself joke around with her. The one who wasn’t afraid to be himself. 

“Well, I’m sure every girl here’s just dying to be the Natalie Wood to your James Dean.” She snarked. She moved to go around him but he pressed back against the door, again, blocking her way. She huffed. He tilted head and narrowed his eyes.

“What about you?” He asked. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, confused. 

“What about me?” Her voice was sharp and Billy’s jaw tensed. He turned his body to face her fully. She was level with his collarbone and didn’t appreciate having to look up to meet his eyes. 

“Are you dying to be my Natalie Wood?”

She sneered and shoved at his chest, trying to move him. For someone who’d been drinking, he was remarkably steady on his feet. He didn’t move an inch when she shoved him. He just looked down at her with his piercing eyes and a straight face. 

“Move.” She shoved him again for good measure. 

He shook his head. “No.” 

She glared at him, willing him to feel the heat of her gaze and the anger that burned in her chest. “Move.” 

He lowered his head until they were eye to eye. “No.”

“Where do you get off, huh?” She scowled at him, her voice low and resonating. He reared his head back and gazed down at her, giving nothing away. 

“You nearly run three kids off the road today, you scream at me and Max, you ignore me at home and at school, you treat me like I never even mattered.” She shrugged and brought her hands up towards him in a placating manner, bringing them down with a slap that echoed through the room. “It’s like you blame us for moving to this backwater town when you know that none of us had a say in this.”

Billy shot off the wall and pointed a threatening finger at her. “You don’t know anything, Mayfield so stop acting like you do. We both know who’s fault it is for moving to this bum fuck town.”

Valerie snorted. “You think you’re so tough, pointing fingers at me, yelling and screaming.” She moved into his space, forcing him back. “It’s all just a show. You’re putting on this grand performance to keep people from looking at you. You’d rather they see this arrogant, wild boy from California so that they don’t ask questions ‘cause God forbid they want to know anything about you.

“If they don’t ask questions you don’t have to remember.” She poked her finger into his sticky chest and felt his breath heaving. He was trembling with rage and she could see color rising up in his cheeks. 

“If no one digs deep you don’t have to think about what you’re missing. You don’t have to think about me, what we had and how happy you were. That makes it easier, right?” She nodded, clenching her jaw. She could hear the breath rushing from his lungs through his nose. It was sharp and exploded across her face in a stream of cool air. 

She stood up on her toes, brushing her nose with Billy’s. “Well, fuck you, Billy Hargrove.” 

She pushed passed his waist and wrapped her hand around the doorknob, turning it. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and jerked her around, pressing her back against the door. 

“You don’t know shit, Mayfield.” She opened her mouth to retort but was silenced by his lips. 

He pressed hard against her, shoving her back with his body, pressing fully against her. She moaned and thrust her tongue against his, tasting beer on his breath. 

His hands raked down her sides, sliding down her thighs and hoisting one up around his waist. He snaked his hand around the inside of her thigh and ghosting his fingers across her panty line. She shivered and groaned against his lips, wrapping her arms tight around his neck, holding him to her. 

He groaned and tilted his head, moving his lips across her cheek and down her neck. She clenched her eyes shut and dropped her head back agains the door. Billy tugged the edge of her panties aside and slipped his fingers against the seam of her core. She gasped sharply, a high whine trailing off against his ear. 

He groaned at the wet heat dripping over the pads of his fingers. He brushed his nose against her ear and tugged gently on the lobe. She shivered and tightened her arms around him. “Tell me to stop.” He whispered. 

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head, clutching him closer to her. “Keep going.” She said. He moaned low into her neck and didn’t hesitate. 

His hands moved rapidly to unfasten his jeans and in less than a minute, he was sheathed inside her. She gasped and tensed against him. The entrance was slick but tight. He stretched her to a point that was familiar and yet not. It had been months since they’d been together so she was a little out of practice. 

In time, her body became familiar with the burn that came with taking Billy inside her and she nodded against him. He pistoned in and out of her with rapid strokes, building himself up. 

She felt a simmer deep in her belly, centered around her core and she raked her nails through his hair. Billy licked a stripe up her neck and brought a hand down between them, pressing rough fingers against her clit. 

She groaned against his neck and felt goosebumps rise up along her arms and legs. He pumped his hips three more times against her before he shuddered. She felt him spill inside her and she pulled roughly on his hair. He growled and circled his fingers against her, finishing her off. 

As soon as she caught her breath, she shoved him away. 

He gave her a hard stare and scoffed, pushing himself back inside his jeans and zipping up. “What?” He scoffed. 

She adjusted the skirt of her dress and rolled her eyes. “You can’t just jump me every time I piss you off.” He snorted and shook his head, pushing his curls back away from his face. 

“I don’t. Just when you’re being difficult.” He smacked his lips and rested his hands on his hips, arching his back and cracking his spine. He groaned at the relief and smirked at her downturned expression. He stepped forward and cupped her chin in his hand.

“Cheer up.” He said before planting a smacking kiss on her lips. She shoved him back and wiped roughly at her lips with the back of her hand. “Next time you’re being difficult, I’ll just push you up against a wall and make you come. Maybe then you won’t piss me off as much.” 

Her nostrils flared and she pushed her hand flat against his face, shoving him back. He cackled and reached around her for the doorknob. “Stop being such a buzzkill and have fun, Mayfield.”

To anyone else, he would’ve sounded like he meant it. Valerie knew that he was patronizing her. She snorted and pushed passed him out the door. She ignored the sound of his laughter and instead looked for a bathroom.

She was halfway down the hall when Steve Harrington stormed out the door ahead of her and disappeared down the stairs. She huffed and turned to the door he came out of. She approached and knocked. 

She heard a feminine grown and pushed it open.

Nancy was leaning unsteadily over the sink, wiping futilely at the giant red stain on the front of her white sweater. Valerie felt a small smile come over her lips and she laughed lightly. 

“Nancy, do you need help?” The girl in question looked at her through dazed eyes and shook her head. She looked like a bobblehead. Valerie suppressed her laughter and came in, leaving the door open behind her. 

“Here, Nance, let’s get you downstairs.” Just as she made to move Nancy’s arm over her shoulders, a figure loomed in the doorway. Valerie looked up and was met with the puppy dog eyes and droopy face of Jonathan Byers.

[boneandfur]

Marry in Haste [6, pt2]

Notes: historical notes are at the end. // Words: 2806 // Catch up: Ch 6 (contains links to other chapters)

CHAPTER SIX, pt 2 :: Song: Scarborough Fair, Amy Nuttall.

The housekeeper unlocked the door with a flourish. I prayed to God it was not too late. "My lady, take James and Alf in with ye," she said with a respectful gleam in her eye.

With James, Alf, and Sinclaire at my side, I dashed into the room just as MacDougal laid his saw to Ned's flesh. 

Edmund was pale as a sheet, hand on the bottle of whiskey, agog. "Dita?!" 

"Stop!" I screamed, and MacDougal reared back, his face like thunder.

"Get out!" he roared like a bull, and then he turned on me. For such a big man, he moved fast. I darted towards him, grabbing the handle of the saw from his hand, and in my madness, wrested it from his grip. The teeth were brown and rusty with old blood, and I shuddered in disgust. I flung it from me, it went skittering across the floor. “Sairpent!” He grabbed me by the wrist, throwing me to the floor, but I was back on my feet and in his face with an anger I had not known I possessed. 

"Get out of my house!" I said in a voice of deadly quiet. "You'll not harm a hair on his head, do you hear me, you wicked old butcher?!" 

"I'll no' be ordered about by a woman!" MacDougal bared his teeth, shaking with anger. 

"Get out!" I roared, pointing a shaking finger at the door. I whirled on one of our footmen. "James, run and get a boy to fetch the bonesetter, as fast as you can!" 

"Yes, my lady!" James dashed from the room. 

"My lady!" MacDougal lunged for me, and Sinclaire stepped forward as though to stop him. "I told ye tae stay out o' it! I'll not be told ma business by some slanty-eyed, foreign bitch!" 

Edmund was on his feet before Sinclaire could move, and his fist hit the doctor square in the mouth. "You forget your place!" he roared, breathing in sharp, jerky pants. "You'll not lay hands on a peeress of the realm, sir! Now get out before we call Bow Street!" 

"Mr Greaves!" I shouted, and the butler came into the room at once, he had likely been waiting in the hallway for my summons. He was a big African man, balding, with a kindly smile, but today he had none, his mouth was set as hard as stone as he looked at the surgeon.

"My lady," Greaves said respectfully. "Mr Marlcaster." 

"Escort this charlatan from the property!" I ordered in a voice like steel, praying none of them could sense how I shook inside. Ye may murder yer husband here an' now... As if ye'd stabbed a knife intae his heart.

"Unhand me at once! I'll show m'self out!" MacDougal cried. "Jamie, ye wee idiot! Bring ma bag!" 

"But sir!" Jamie cried, finding his voice at last. And it squeaked. 

"We are no' welcome in this house. I wish good day to you, Madam!" MacDougal thundered at me. As he turned to go, he whispered, in a voice like ice, "Let all who hear me bear witness! I say ye do murder -- an' I'll testify against ye and yer lover at the trial!" Slamming his hat on his head and shoving his bag under his arm, he stormed out, tripping over the person coming up the steps as he shouted for Jamie to call a cab. 

When he had gone, I turned to Edmund, and as though he knew how I trembled inside, he took me into his arms and held me for a long, sweet moment. Then he sat back down on the bed, he was sweating and pale. "What have we done, Dita?" he whispered. 

"She's saved your life, most likely, Marlcaster," Sinclaire said from the doorway, and I jumped back, feeling guilty for comforting my own husband in front of my lover, though why I should feel such a confusing emotion, I knew not. "I'm not a man for medicine, but that blade would have poisoned your blood and condemned you to a long and lingering death." 

Edmund scoffed, but I saw how ill he looked, and my heart squeezed hard. "Always the bearer of good news, aren't you, Sinclaire? I think you would love comforting my widow overmuch, if I should perish."

Sinclaire ground his teeth audibly. “Is that not why you chose me as your second, sir?”

“Oh, you call yourself an honorable man, Sinclaire, but I've seen how you make eyes at my wife as though I were not right in front of you!” Edmund jeered. I placed a hand on his arm, and he pulled me roughly to him, as though he would kiss me, but at the last moment I turned my face away. I saw hurt flash in his eyes, he let go of me, and I put my hand to my lips. I did not want to be a pawn in that game, and yet suddenly I felt bereft, and ached for the kiss I had denied him. “You hope to wear the fair lady's favor and win the race, I suppose. But do you really think it shall be so easy?” he sneered.

“Enough, Ned!” I snapped, hearing the bell ring for the door. “The bonesetter will be here any moment! Do you want her to see you brawling like a common peasant, or acting like the gentleman I know you to be?”

“Send for the bishop, wife, we may as well give last rites. I will be half a man without my leg, I...” his voice dropped and he turned back to me, stroking the back of his hand across my cheek. He was shaking, his teeth chattering, and his voice had begun to slur from the drink. "But why are you crying? Will you mind so overmuch when I am dead?”

"You're not going to die!" My voice quaked a little on the last word. 

"Who in't going t' die?" It was a little old lady, ugly and wizened, with a wide mouth like a toad and shoulders wide as a dockworker's. She had a thick accent, and leaned upon a walking stick. "I be Mrs Mapp, the bonesetter. Ye must be that high-faultin' foreign miss what married this foolish man who's t' race that wicked Duke. Aye, all o' London is talkin' about it." She eyed Edmund's leg with a gimlet gaze. 

"The race!" I gasped, swallowing hard. If I gambled nothing, I would lose everything. "But how do you know, madam?" 

The bonesetter barked back a sharp laugh. "'Tis the Talk of the Town, girl!" 

When she moved toward the bed, her clothes letting off a not unappealing cloud of herbal smells, Edmund set down the bottle. "What witchcraft is this?" He stared at the old woman, throughly appalled. "Who is this hag?" 

"You respect your ma, boy?" Mrs Mapp bent her ear to his leg and then began massaging it roughly, and he howled. "That's what I thought. Feels like it ain't shattered."

"That is what the surgeon said, madam. He wanted to amputate." At Sinclaire's words, Edmund clenched his jaw and went quite pale.

"An' it was you that kicked him out, eh?" She poked a knobbly finger at me. "I like yer brass, girl. Want ter make yerself useful? Fetch me some hot water, as hot as ye can make it, and fresh, clean towels. Well? Are ye waitin' for infection tae set in, ye wee mort?" She fixed me with a gimlet eye, throwing a pitcher off the washstand to me, and then drew herself up to her full height. "Now, boy," she said, turning her attention back to my husband, "you're goin' ter want t' get very drunk." 

When I returned, my husband had drunk nearly the entire second bottle of whiskey, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. "Look, Shinclaire, it's Dita," he slurred. "My angel." 

"Aye, she's yer angel all right, boy." The bonesetter cackled, handing Sinclaire a strap of leather, and he put it in Edmund's teeth. "Now we'll set the bone. You, lads --" and she jabbed a finger at Sinclaire and Alf, who I had quite forgotten. "Hold 'is lordship down. An' you, Angel, since ye insist on makin' use o' yerself, cant a tune fer yer man t' keep 'im calmed." She chewed on her spit. "Ye can sing, can't ye?" 

"Dita caterwauls like a cat in heat!" Edmund winked at the bonesetter. "Her mama was a celebrated opera soprano, but m' wife can't carry a tune in a bucket!" 

"Ned!" I scowled, crossing my arms. "You told me I had a beautiful voice!" 

Sinclaire coughed, looking ashamed. "He's right, y'know. Your singing voice sounds like a cat yowling. Madam, you'll want to cover your ears." 

The old woman cackled loudly, and set to her work. I opened my mouth, and began to sing a song from when I was a child, Edmund's eyes never leaving my face. 

Tell him to buy me an acre of land,

Between the salt water and the sea sand. 

Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,

And sow it all over with one peppercorn. 

Tell him to sheer't with a sickle of leather,

And bind it up with a peacock's feather. 

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme...

When at last the grisly task was finished, Edmund had passed out from the pain, and the men were sweating from the exertion it had taken to hold him down. I escorted the bonesetter to the back gate and paid her a golden crown, she bit down on it, satisfied, and then looked at me with eyes that saw beyond mortal knowing, and I shivered all over at the sorrow in her eyes. 

"When he wakes, Angel, he'll be cursin' both god an' the devil. Don't ye let him go t' that race tomorrow." 

I gasped, I had quite forgotten it. "But his second will race the Duke, madam. Mr Sinclaire." 

"Oh, aye? Your lover they say, and they also say this." And she bent her lips to my ear, dry and cracked like leather. "When men and women make plans, the Devil laughs." She slipped something into my hand.

"What?" I gasped. But when I turned around, she was gone, and the breeze brought the smell of ash and bone from the charnel houses beyond the lichgate, though perhaps I only imagined it.

And inside my palm lay a knucklebone.

•••

"I'm afraid, Ernest," I whispered. We were in the back garden, sitting on the bench together in perfect propriety, as Susanna played ball with her puppy, a little white eared runt Edmund's favorite bitch, Cleopatra, had thrown. He doted on his daughter whenever he could, and I wondered how he could ever think her the child of the man beside me, who twirled his finger through one of my red curls, bringing it to his lips. 

"I do not intend to lose the race, if that is what you fear." He tugged whimsically on one ringlet. "Perhaps I need a lady's token, for luck." 

I kissed him chastely near the mouth, mindful of my husband lying inside. "Very well." He handed me his knife, and I wrapped the ringlet in my handkerchief, slipping it into his front pocket. He caught my chin in his hand, brushing his lips against mine as he stared into my eyes. We both took a sharp breath, and moved back -- and not a moment too soon. 

My Lady Grandmother walked into the garden and came up short upon seeing us, her brows shooting up in surprise. We jumped guiltily apart.  "Granddaughter, your husband is awake and asking for you." 

•••

Edmund was sitting up in bed, his face contorted in a grimace of pain. His leg was bound in boiled linen bandages and kept immobile in a splint. When he saw me, his whole aspect lightened, and he patted the space beside him. 

I sat down next to him with my knees drawn up to my chest, and when he put his arm around me, I pressed my face to his broad chest, unable to hold back my tears. "Ned, Ned." 

He tilted up my chin. "Don't cry, I am still living." He brushed his lips across my cheeks, tasting my tears. Of course, this only made me cry all the more, and I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, lying back against the pillows with him, my body curled up against his. When he spoke, it was husky, ragged. "I don't know how I should have made it back without the thought of you in my head. When the horse threw me... I remembered that race with the Duke, years ago, before we eloped, and I thought, At last my luck has run out. And then I knew I could not live a single moment more unless I..." he turned his face, his eyes softening, and he swallowed, hard. "Unless I had but one more kiss from you, Lady wife." 

His lips on mine were gentle, but demanding: his tongue teased the seam of my lips apart, and I opened them to him, moaning a little as a ripple of heat lit up every nerve ending along my skin. He tasted of whiskey and clear, green water. "You do not know how badly I want to be buried deep inside of you, Dita." Edmund's husky admittance kindled such a longing inside of me that I was staggered by it. He took a small sip of his tea, and his eyes held the glazed look of one whose head is filled with opium Dreams. "Do you not ever think that Susanna might like a little brother to play with?" 

"She has brothers." I was referring, of course, to Briar's children, Harry and Joss, who we saw little to none of, though that was more her doing than mine. If she had not been so ridiculously jealous of me, I would have had the boys to play with Susanna, and often. Besides, it would do Edmund good to see his boys more frequently, for I knew he missed them sore.

In Edmund's voice was a bone-deep ache that made my heart fair turn over with pain for him. "I did not know my father, Dita. And I barely see the boys, for she has sent them to be raised by her mother, back in Grovershire." His lips twisted. "She says it is so she can give all her attention to me, but I... Oh, Dita, it kills me not to see my sons." 

This was the drink loosening his tongue, I was sure of it. Edmund had never expressed such a desire heretofore. In this state, I would be able to get him to admit to anything. But I was not that cruel, not yet. "Tell me again how you want to make another babe with me." I twined my fingers through his, and his brow crinkled before he burst out laughing, half sitting up. 

"Why, in the usual way, Dita. Where I take you every which way possible until you conceive, and then you do not touch me again, but go back to your lover." His voice was void of mirth as he leaned back again. "Do I have that aright?" 

"Ned..." my voice was stricken. "You know that is not... I mean..."

"It is what we do, Perdita." He sounded weary suddenly, and a shadow moved across his face. "It is the game we play. By God, I am sick to heart of it."

"Edmund, would you -- oh!" My mother in law clapped a hand over her heart, shocked to see me curled up beside her son in the bed. "You need your rest, my son." She kissed his brow, smoothing the lines away, and looked steadily at me. For once, we were at an accord. 

Very gently, I sat up, attempting to disentangle our fingers, but he gripped my hand hard, pulling me back to his chest.

"No, stay with me. I shan't be able to sleep unless you are here." His lips brushed against my ear. "I need you, Dita." 

"Well, you need your sleep more, husband." I laid my head back down upon his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the place where his heart beat so steadily beneath my cheek. "But I will stay." 

"Stay forever, Dita," he whispered. 

"I will." My false promise fell on deaf ears, he was asleep. 

•••

I could not sleep before the morning of the race, I tossed and turned in bed all night, the knucklebones upon the wash stand, mocking me. The Duke... This was under his saddle... You are a clever girl, Perdita...

I bolted up in the darkness. 

Sinclaire. 

•••

Historical notes: 

(1) Burial in consecrated ground was only permitted after 1823 without ritual, and with ritual only after the 1880 Burial Act. Usually suicides and unchristened babies were not buried in the family plot, but outside the churchyard, or to the north. I wasn't able to find much. 

Source: http://www.sacred-texts.com/etc/fcod/fcod11.htm

https://genealogy.stackexchange.com/questions/10193/burial-of-a-person-who-committed-suicide-in-18th-century-england

(2) the lyrics that Perdita sings are from a traditional ballad, a version of Scarborough Fair which can be found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scarborough_Fair_(ballad)

••• 

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Permanent tag list: @breaumonts @gardeningourmet @writtenbycandy @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalkerwhipped @quartzandarrow @the-everlasting-dream @remis-choices @debramcg1106 @lizeboredom @anneross41 @enmchoices @walkerismychoice @darley1101 @blackcatkita

[thelookofeagles]

Breeders’ Cup 2017 Entries

Juvenile Fillies Turf (G1) - 1 mile - Turf - 2 yo fillies - $1,000,000 - 5:25 PM EDT Friday

Best Performance - 2yo ch filly - Broken Vow x Give My Regards (Smart Strike) - J. Ortiz - C. Clement (12-1) 

Happily (IRE) - 2yo b filly - Galileo (IRE) x You’resothrilling (Storm Cat) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (9-2)

Now You’re Talking (IRE) - 2yo b filly - Zoffany (IRE) x Granadilla (GB) (Zafonic) - W. Lordan - J. O’Brien (30-1)

Madeline (IRE) - 2yo b filly - Kodiac (GB) x Madhulika (FR) (Marchand de Sable) - A. Atzeni - R. Varian (20-1)

Ultima D - 2yo ch filly - Scat Daddy x La Violette (Coronado’s Quest) - T. Gaffalione - W. Ward (12-1)

Orbolution - 2yo dkb filly - Orb x My Rachel (Horse Chestnut (SAF)) - J. Velazquez - T. Pletcher (20-1)

Capla Temptress (IRE) - 2yo b filly - Lope de Vega (IRE) x Mrs Beeton (IRE) (Dansili (GB)) - J. Rosario - W. Mott (6-1)

Significant Form - 2yo gr filly - Creative Cause x Church by the Sea (Harlan’s Holiday) - I. Ortiz, Jr. - C. Brown (8-1)

Fatale Bere (FR) - 2yo b filly - Pedro the Great x Mofa Bere (FR) (Saumarez (GB)) - K. Desormeaux - L. Powell (15-1)

September (IRE) - 2yo b filly - Deep Impact (JPN) x Peeping Fawn (Danehill) - S. Heffernan - A. O’Brien (6-1)

Rushing Fall - 2yo b filly - More Than Ready x Autumnal (Forestry) - J. Castellano - C. Brown (7-2)

Dixie Moon - 2yo ch filly - Curlin x Dixie Chicken (Rahy) - E. Da Silva - C. Phillips (20-1)

Juliet Capulet (IRE) - 2yo b filly - Dark Angel (IRE) x Capulet Monteque (IRE) (Camacho (GB)) - F. Dettori - J. Gosden (12-1)

Moon Dash - 2yo b filly - Malibu Moon x In the Slips (More Than Ready) - M. Smith - M. Stidham (15-1)

Retro - 2yo dkb filly - Giant’s Causeway x Grace Anatomy (Aldebaran) - F. Prat - R. Mandella (AE1)

Goodthingstaketime (IRE) - 2yo b filly - Canford Cliffs (IRE) x Addictedtoprogress (IRE) (Holy Roman Emperor (IRE)) - F. Geroux - J. Stack (AE2)

Las Vegas Dirt Mile (G1) - 1 mile - Dirt - 3yo+ - $1,000,000 - 6:05 PM EDT Friday

Iron Fist - 5yo gr ridgling - Tapit x Successful Outlook (Orientate) - R. Santana, Jr. - S. Asmussen (12-1)

Giant Expectations - 4yo ch colt - Frost Giant x Sarahisittrue (Is It True) - G. Stevens - P. Eurton (12-1)

Sharp Azteca - 4yo dkb colt - Freud x So Sharp (Saint Liam) - P. Lopez - J. Navarro (9-2)

Gato Del Oro - 3yo b colt - Medaglia d’Oro x Funny Feeling (Distorted Humor) - J. Ortiz - R. Baltas (30-1)

Awesome Slew - 4yo b colt - Awesome Again x Slewfoundmoney (Seeking the Gold) - J. Velazquez - M. Casse (12-1)

Mor Spirit - 4yo dkb ridgling - Eskendereya x Im a Dixie Girl (Dixie Union) - M. Smith - B. Baffert (3-1)

Cupid - 4yo gr colt - Tapit x Pretty ‘n Smart (Beau Genius) - R. Bejarano - B. Baffert (8-1)

Accelerate - 4yo ch colt - Lookin At Lucky x Issues (Awesome Again) - V. Espinoza - J. Sadler (7-2)

Battle of Midway - 3yo b colt - Smart Strike x Rigoletta (Concerto) - F. Prat - J. Hollendorfer (10-1)

Practical Joke - 3yo b colt - Into Mischief x Halo Humor (Distorted Humor) - J. Rosario - C. Brown (6-1)

Juvenile Turf (G1) - 1 mile - Turf - 2yo - $1,000,000 - 6:50 PM EDT Friday

Mendelssohn - 2yo b colt - Scat Daddy x Leslie’s Lady (Tricky Creek) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (8-1)

Untamed Domain - 2yo b colt - Animal Kingdom x Ciao (Lear Fan) - J. Ortiz - G. Motion (8-1)

Sands of Mali (FR) - 2yo b colt - Panis x Kadiania (FR) (Indian Rocket (GB)) - F. Prat - R. Fahey (30-1)

Catholic Boy - 2yo b colt - More Than Ready x Song of Bernadette (Bernardini) - M. Franco - J. Thomas (12-1)

Beckford (GB) - 2yo b colt - Bated Breath (GB) x Whirly Dancer (GB) (Danehill Dancer (IRE)) - J. Rosario - G. Elliott (8-1)

Masar (IRE) - 2yo ch colt - New Approach (IRE) x Khawlah (IRE) (Cape Cross (IRE)) - W. Buick - C. Appleby (9-2)

James Garfield (IRE) - 2yo b colt - Exceed And Excel (AUS) x Whazzat (GB) (Daylami (IRE)) - F. Dettori - G. Scott (6-1)

Voting Control - 2yo b colt - Kitten’s Joy x Manda Bay (Empire Maker) - J. Castellano - C. Brown (8-1)

Encumbered - 2yo b colt - Violence x Dying to Dance (Street Cry (IRE)) - M. Gutierrez - S. Callaghan (15-1)

Flameaway - 2yo ch colt - Scat Daddy x Vulcan Rose (Fusaichi Pegasus) - J. Leparoux - M. Casse (20-1)

Snapper Sinclair - 2yo b colt - City Zip x True Addiction (Yes It’s True) - R. Santana, Jr. - S. Asmussen (15-1)

Hemp Hemp Hurray - 2yo b colt - Artie Schiller x Druidess (Malibu Moon) - J. Velazquez - W. Ward (8-1)

My Boy Jack - 2yo dkb colt - Creative Cause x Gold N Shaft (Mineshaft) - K. Desormeaux - K. Desormeaux (8-1)

Rajasinghe (IRE) - 2yo b colt - Choisir (AUS) x Bunditten (IRE) (Soviet Star) - S. Donohoe - R. Spencer (30-1)

Tap Daddy - 2yo dkb colt - Scat Daddy x Easy Tap (Tapit) - F. Geroux - S. Asmussen (AE1)

Pubilius Syrus - 2yo b colt - Candy Ride (ARG) x Ruthenia (Pulpit) - F. Prat - V. Cerin (AE2)

Longines Distaff (G1) - 1 ⅛ miles - Dirt - 3yo+ f&m - $2,000,000 - 7:35 PM EDT Friday

Champagne Room - 3yo b filly - Broken Vow x Lucky to Be Me (Bernstein) - M. Gutierrez - P. Eurton (15-1)

Stellar Wind - 5yo ch mare - Curlin x Evening Star (Malibu Moon) - V. Espinoza - J. Sadler (5-2)

Mopotism - 3yo b filly - Uncle Mo x Peppy Rafaela (Bernardini) - F. Dettori - D. O’Neill (30-1)

Abel Tasman - 3yo b filly - Quality Road x Vargas Girl (Deputy Minister) - M. Smith - B. Baffert (4-1)

Elate - 3yo dkb filly - Medaglia d’Oro x Cheery (Distorted Humor) - J. Ortiz - W. Mott (3-1)

Forever Unbridled - 5yo b mare - Unbridled’s Song x Lemons Forever (Lemon Drop Kid) - J. Velazquez - D. Stewart (4-1)

Paradise Woods - 3yo b filly - Union Rags x Wild Forest (Forest Wildcat) - F. Prat - R. Mandella (9-2)

Romantic Vision - 5yo b mare - Lemon Drop Kid x Perfect for You (Giant’s Causeway) - B. Hernandez, Jr. - G. Arnold, II (15-1)

14 Hands Winery Juvenile Fillies (G1) - 1 1/16 miles - Dirt - 2yo f - $2,000,000 - 3:00 PM EDT Saturday

Heavenly Love - 2yo b filly - Malibu Moon x Darling My Darling (Deputy Minister) - J. Leparoux - M. Casse (9-2)

Tell Your Mama - 2yo b filly - Blame x Taletobetold (Tale of the Cat) - K. Desormeaux - R. Hess, Jr. (30-1)

Princess Warrior - 2yo b filly - Midshipman x Sessa (Consolidator) - B. Hernandez, Jr. - K. McPeek (12-1)

Gio Game - 2yo b filly - Gio Ponti x Game for More (More Than Ready) - M. Franco - M. Casse (15-1)

Blonde Bomber - 2yo gr filly - Fort Larned x Girl Can Rock (El Prado (IRE)) - J. Lezcano - S. Gold (20-1)

Stainless - 2yo gr filly - Flatter x Spring Storm (Unbridled’s Song) - J. Velazquez - T. Pletcher (20-1)

Moonshine Memories - 2yo b filly - Malibu Moon x Unenchantedevening (Unbridled’s Song) - F. Prat - S. Callaghan (7-2)

Piedi Bianchi - 2yo gr filly - Overanalyze x Adore You (Tactical Cat) - M. Gutierrez - D. O’Neill (15-1)

Alluring Star - 2yo b filly - Exchange Rate x Spring Jump (Jump Start) - J. Talamo - B. Baffert (6-1)

Maya Malibu - 2yo b filly - Malibu Moon x Island Sand (Tabasco Cat) - J. Castellano - G. Motion (20-1)

Wonder Gadot - 2yo dkb filly - Medaglia d’Oro x Loving Vindication (Vindication) - P. Husbands - M. Casse (8-1)

Caledonia Road - 2yo b filly - Quality Road x Come a Callin (Dixie Union) - M. Smith - R. Nicks (15-1)

Separationofpowers - 2yo b filly - Candy Ride (ARG) x Shehadmefromhello (Empire Maker) - J. Ortiz - C. Brown (4-1)

Turf Sprint (G1) - 5 furlongs - Turf - 3yo+ - $1,000,000 - 3:37 PM EDT Saturday

Disco Partner - 5yo gr horse - Disco Rico x Lulu’s Number (Numerous) - I. Ortiz, Jr. - C. Clement (9-2)

Holding Gold - 4yo b gelding - Lonhro (AUS) x In the Gold (Golden Missile) - M. Franco - M. Casse (15-1)

Lady Aurelia - 3yo b filly - Scat Daddy x D’ Wildcat Speed (Forest Wildcat) - J. Velazquez - W. Ward (5-2)

Stormy Liberal - 5yo b gelding - Stormy Atlantic x Vassar (Royal Academy) - J. Rosario - P. Miller (12-1)

Washington DC (IRE) - 4yo b colt - Zoffany (IRE) x How's She Cuttin' (IRE) (Shinko Forest (IRE)) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (20-1)

Marsha (IRE) - 4yo b filly - Acclamation (GB) x Marlinka (GB) (Marju (IRE)) - L. Morris - M. Prescott (7-2)

Richard’s Boy - 5yo gr gelding - Idiot Proof x Marissa’s Joy (Cee’s Tizzy) - F. Prat - P. Miller (10-1)

Cotai Glory (GB) - 5yo ch horse - Exceed And Excel (AUS) x Continua (Elusive Quality) - O. Murphy - C. Hills (20-1)

Mongolian Saturday - 7yo b gelding - Any Given Saturday x Miss Hot Salsa (Houston) - F. Geroux - E. Ganbat (20-1)

Hogy - 8yo dkb gelding - Offlee Wild x Floy (Petionville) - J. Ortiz - M. Maker (12-1)

Bucchero - 5yo ch horse - Kantharos x Meetmeontime (General Meeting) - F. de la Cruz - T. Glyshaw (12-1)

Pure Sensation - 6yo gr gelding - Zensational x Pure Disco (Disco Rico) - K. Carmouche - C. Clement (20-1)

Guns Loaded - 6yo b gelding - D'wildcat x One in the Chamber (Red Bullet) - R. Bejarano - D. O’Neill (AE1)

Paquita Coqueta (CHI) - 6yo b mare - Scat Daddy x Luna Piena (CHI) (Mon Pote Le Gitan) - C. Nakatani - C. Summers (AE2)

Filly & Mare Sprint (G1) - 7 furlongs - Dirt - 3yo+ f&m - $1,000,000 - 4:14 PM EDT Saturday

Carina Mia - 4yo dkb filly - Malibu Moon x Miss Simpatia (ARG) (Southern Halo) - J. Castellano - C. Brown (12-1)

Paulassilverlining - 5yo b mare - Ghostzapper x Seeking the Silver (Grindstone) - J. Ortiz - C. Brown (8-1)

Curlin’s Approval - 4yo dkb filly - Curlin x Withmom'sapproval (With Approval) - L. Saez - H. Alter (20-1)

Finest City - 5yo ch mare - City Zip x Be Envied (Lemon Drop Kid) - C. Nakatani - I. Kruljac (12-1)

Bar of Gold - 5yo dkb mare - Medaglia d'Oro x Khancord Kid (Lemon Drop Kid) - I. Ortiz, Jr. - J. Kimmel (30-1)

Proper Discretion - 4yo b filly - Discreetly Mine x Prizes (Prized) - K. Desormeaux - A. Rini (30-1)

By the Moon - 5yo dkb mare - Indian Charlie x By the Light (Malibu Moon) - R. Maragh - M. Nevin (12-1)

Constellation - 4yo ch filly - Bellamy Road x For Royalty (Not For Love) - F. Prat - B. Baffert (15-1)

Finley’sluckycharm - 4yo dkb filly - Twirling Candy x Day of Victory (Victory Gallop) - B. Hernandez, Jr. - W. Calhoun (6-1)

Highway Star - 4yo ch filly - Girolamo x Stolen Star (Cat Thief) - A. Arroyo - R. Ubillo (15-1)

Unique Bella - 3yo gr filly - Tapit x Unrivaled Belle (Unbridled's Song) - M. Smith - J. Hollendorfer (9-5)

Skye Diamonds - 4yo ch filly - First Dude x Exonerated (Johannesburg) - T. Pereira - W. Spawr (5-1)

Princess Karen - 3yo b filly - Stay Thirsty x Chitka (Jade Hunter) - J. Leparoux - J. Bonde (20-1)

Ami’s Mesa - 4yo dkb filly - Sky Mesa x Victorious Ami (Victory Gallop) - L. Contreras - J. Carroll (20-1)

Filly & Mare Turf (G1) - 1 ⅛ miles - Turf - 3yo+ f&m - $2,000,000 - 5:00 PM EDT Saturday

War Flag - 4yo b filly - War Front x Black Speck (Arch) - J. Ortiz - C. McGaughey III (12-1)

Senga - 3yo b filly - Blame x Beta Leo (A.P. Indy) - S. Pasquier - P. Bary (20-1)

Birdie Gold - 3yo ch filly - Birdstone x Gold Revenue (Touch Gold) - M. Smith - G. Mandella (30-1)

Zipessa - 5yo ch mare - City Zip x Precious Princess (Horse Chestnut (SAF)) - J. Bravo - M. Stidham (20-1)

Wuheida (GB) - 3yo ch filly - Dubawi (IRE) x Hibaayeb (GB) (Singspiel (IRE)) - W. Buick - C. Appleby (20-1)

Cambodia - 5yo b mare - War Front x Sassifaction (Smart Strike) - D. Van Dyke - T. Proctor (8-1)

Dacita (CHI) - 6yo ch mare - Scat Daddy x Daja (CHI) (Seeker's Reward) - J. Rosario - C. Brown (8-1)

Grand Jete (GB) - 4yo b filly - Dansili (GB) x Modern Look (GB) (Zamindar) - J. Castellano - C. Brown (6-1)

Lady Eli - 5yo dkb mare - Divine Park x Sacre Coeur (Saint Ballado) - I. Ortiz, Jr. - C. Brown (5-2)

Queen’s Trust (GB) - 4yo b filly - Dansili (GB) x Queen's Best (GB) (King's Best) - F. Dettori - M. Stoute (12-1)

Nezwaah (GB) - 4yo b filly - Dubawi (IRE) x Ferdoos (GB) (Dansili (GB)) - A. Atzeni - R. Varian (20-1)

Avenge - 5yo dkb mare - War Front x Lerici (Woodman) - F. Prat - R. Mandella (8-1)

Goodyearforroses (IRE) - 5yo b mare - Azamour (IRE) x Guilia (GB) (Galileo (IRE)) - C. Nakatani - R. Baltas (12-1)

Rhododendron (IRE) - 3yo b filly - Galileo (IRE) x Halfway To Heaven (IRE) (Pivotal (GB)) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (8-1)

Kitten’s Roar - 5yo dkb mare - Kitten's Joy x Bambolina (War Chant) - J. Ortiz - M. Maker (AE1)

Responsibleforlove (IRE) - 4yo ch filly - Duke of Marmalade (IRE) x Vee Gita (IRE) (Vettori (IRE)) - J. Talamo - N. Drysdale (AE2)

Twinspires Sprint (G1) - 6 furlongs - Dirt - 3yo+ - $1,500,000 - 5:37 PM EDT Saturday

Calculator - 5yo gr horse - In Summation x Back to Basics (Alphabet Soup) - J. Velazquez - P. Miller (20-1)

Drefong - 4yo b colt - Gio Ponti x Eltimaas (Ghostzapper) - M. Smith - B. Baffert (5-2)

American Pastime - 3yo dkb colt - Tapizar x Ryan's Inheritance (Valid Expectations) - C. Nakatani - R. Hess, Jr. (12-1)

B Squared - 3yo b colt - Square Eddie x Silar Rules (Ten Most Wanted) - M. Gutierrez - D. O’Neill (30-1)

Whitmore - 4yo ch gelding - Pleasantly Perfect x Melody's Spirit (Scat Daddy) - M. Franco - R. Moquett (15-1)

Mind Your Biscuits - 4yo ch colt - Posse x Jazzmane (Toccet) - J. Rosario - C. Summers (6-1)

Takaful - 3yo dkb colt - Bernardini x Sablah (Distorted Humor) - J. Ortiz - K. McLaughlin (5-1)

Roy H - 5yo b gelding - More Than Ready x Elusive Diva (Elusive Quality) - K. Desormeaux - P. Miller (7-2)

Ransom the Moon - 5yo b horse - Malibu Moon x Count to Three (Red Ransom) - F. Prat - P. D’Amato (12-1)

Imperial Hint - 4yo dkb colt - Imperialism x Royal Hint (Lahint) - J. Castellano - L. Carvajal, Jr. (9-2)

Mile (G1) - 1 mile - Turf - 3yo+ - $2,000,000 - 6:19 PM EDT Saturday

Midnight Storm - 6yo dkb horse - Pioneerof the Nile x My Tina (Bertrando) - T. Baze - P. D’Amato (15-1)

Heart to Heart - 6yo b horse - English Channel x Ask the Question (Silver Deputy) - J. Leparoux - B. Lynch (6-1)

Mr. Roary - 4yo ch gelding - Scat Daddy x If Angels Sang (Seattle Slew) - T. Conner - G. Papaprodromou (30-1)

Lancaster Bomber - 3yo b colt - War Front x Sun Shower (IRE) (Indian Ridge (IRE)) - S. Heffernan - A. O’Brien (20-1)

World Approval - 5yo gr gelding - Northern Afleet x Win Approval (With Approval) - J. Velazquez - M. Casse (9-2)

Zelzal (FR) - 4yo b colt - Sea The Stars (IRE) x Olga Prekrasa (Kingmambo) - G. Benoist - J. Rouget (20-1)

Om - 5yo ch horse - Munnings x Rare Cat (Tabasco Cat) - D. Van Dyke - D. Hendricks (20-1)

Suedois (FR) - 6yo dkb gelding - Le Havre (IRE) x Cup Cake (IRE) (Singspiel (IRE)) - D. Tudhope - D. O’Meara (6-1)

Home of the Brave (IRE) - 5yo ch horse - Starspangledbanner (AUS) x Blissful Beat (GB) (Beat Hollow (GB)) - M. Smith - H. Palmer (20-1)

Ribchester (IRE) - 4yo b colt - Iffraaj (GB) x Mujarah (IRE) (Marju (IRE)) - W. Buick - R. Fahey (7-2)

Ballagh Rocks - 4yo b colt - Stormy Atlantic x Bells Are Ringing (Sadler's Wells) - J. Lezcano - W. Mott (12-1)

Roly Poly - 3yo b filly - War Front x Misty For Me (IRE) (Galileo (IRE)) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (6-1)

Blackjackcat - 4yo dkb gelding - Tale of the Cat x Bootleg Annie (Go for Gin) - K. Desormeaux - M. Glatt (15-1)

Karar (GB) - 5yo b gelding - Invincible Spirit (IRE) x In the Light (GB) (Inchinor (GB)) - F. Dettori - F. Graffard (15-1)

Sentient Jet Juvenile (G1) - 1 1/16 miles - Dirt - 2yo - $2,000,000 - 6:58 PM EDT Saturday

U S Navy Flag - 2yo dkb colt - War Front x Misty For Me (IRE) (Galileo (IRE)) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (8-1)

Solomini - 2yo ch colt - Curlin x Surf Song (Storm Cat) - F. Prat - B. Baffert (6-1)

Firenze Fire - 2yo b colt - Poseidon's Warrior x My Every Wish (Langfuhr) - I. Ortiz, Jr. - J. Servis (6-1)

Givemeaminit - 2yo b colt - Star Guitar x Powerful Nation (Turkoman) - J. Castellano - D. Stewart (20-1)

Free Drop Billy - 2yo ch colt - Union Rags x Trensa (Giant's Causeway) - R. Albarado - D. Romans (5-1)

Good Magic - 2yo ch colt - Curlin x Glinda the Good (Hard Spun) - J. Ortiz - C. Brown (8-1)

The Tabulator - 2yo dkb colt - Dialed In x Fly to the Stars (Giant's Causeway) - J. Valdivia, Jr. - L. Rivelli (20-1)

Bahamian - 2yo ch colt - Freedom Child x Final Humor (Distorted Humor) - M. Gutierrez - S. Callaghan (30-1)

Hazit - 2yo b colt - War Front x Rumor (Indian Charlie) - J. Velazquez - T. Pletcher (20-1)

Golden Dragon - 2yo ch colt - Skipshot x La Belle Marquet (Marquetry) - E. Roman - M. Yanakov (30-1)

Bolt d’Oro - 2yo b colt - Medaglia d'Oro x Globe Trot (A.P. Indy) - C. Nakatani - M. Ruis (9-5)

Hollywood Star - 2yo dkb colt - Malibu Moon x Hollywood Story (Wild Rush) - J. Rosario - D. Romans (15-1)

Longines Turf (G1) - 1 ½ miles - Turf - 3yo+ - $4,000,000 - 7:37 PM EDT Saturday

Talismanic (GB) - 4yo dkb colt - Medaglia d'Oro x Magic Mission (GB) (Machiavellian) - M. Barzalona - A. Fabre (15-1)

Bullards Alley - 5yo dkb gelding - Flower Alley x Flower Forest (Kris S.) - J. Castellano - T. Glyshaw (15-1)

Highland Reel (IRE) - 5yo b horse - Galileo (IRE) x Hveger (AUS) (Danehill) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (5-1)

Decorated Knight (GB) - 5yo ch horse - Galileo (IRE) x Pearling (Storm Cat) - A. Atzeni - R. Charlton (15-1)

Ulysses (IRE) - 4yo ch colt - Galileo (IRE) x Light Shift (Kingmambo) - F. Dettori - M. Stoute (7-2)

Cliffs of Moher (IRE) - 3yo b colt - Galileo (IRE) x Wave (IRE) (Dansili (GB)) - W. Lordan - A. O’Brien (20-1)

Itsinthepost (FR) - 5yo b gelding - American Post (GB) x Sakkara Star (IRE) (Mozart (IRE)) - T. Baze - J. Mullins (15-1)

Bigger Picture - 6yo ch gelding - Badge of Silver x Glory Dancer (Honour and Glory) - J. Velazquez - M. Maker (15-1)

Seventh Heaven (IRE) - 4yo dkb filly - Galileo (IRE) x La Traviata (Johannesburg) - S. Heffernan - A. O’Brien (20-1)

Fanciful Angel (IRE) - 5yo gr gelding - Dark Angel (IRE) x Fanciful Dancer (GB) (Groom Dancer) - I. Ortiz, Jr. - C. Brown (12-1)

Hunt (IRE) - 5yo gr gelding - Dark Angel (IRE) x Mansiya (GB) (Vettori (IRE)) - F. Prat - P. D’Amato (15-1)

Beach Patrol - 4yo dkb colt - Lemon Drop Kid x Bashful Bertie (Quiet American) - J. Rosario - C. Brown (4-1)

Sadler’s Joy - 4yo ch colt - Kitten's Joy x Dynaire (Dynaformer) - J. Leparoux - T. Albertrani (12-1)

Oscar Performance - 3yo b ridgling - Kitten's Joy x Devine Actress (Theatrical (IRE)) - J. Ortiz - B. Lynch (10-1)

Classic (G1) - 1 ¼ miles - Dirt - 3yo+ - $6,000,000 - 8:35 PM EDT Saturday

Arrogate - 4yo gr colt - Unbridled's Song x Bubbler (Distorted Humor) - M. Smith - B. Baffert (2-1)

War Decree - 3yo b colt - War Front x Royal Decree (Street Cry (IRE)) - S. Heffernan - A. O’Brien (30-1)

Win the Space - 5yo gr horse - Pulpit x Teamgeist (ARG) (Mutakddim) - J. Talamo - G. Papaprodromou (30-1)

War Story - 5yo ch gelding - Northern Afleet x Belle Watling (Pulpit) - J. Ortiz - J. Navarro (30-1)

Gun Runner - 4yo ch colt - Candy Ride (ARG) x Quiet Giant (Giant's Causeway) - F. Geroux - S. Asmussen (9-5)

Mubtaahij (IRE) - 5yo b horse - Dubawi (IRE) x Pennegale (IRE)( Pennekamp) - D. Van Dyke - B. Baffert (12-1)

Churchill (IRE) - 3yo b colt - Galileo (IRE) x Meow (IRE) (Storm Cat) - R. Moore - A. O’Brien (15-1)

West Coast - 3yo b colt - Flatter x Caressing (Honour and Glory) - J. Castellano - B. Baffert (6-1)

Gunnevera - 3yo ch colt - Dialed In x Unbridled Rage (Unbridled) - E. Zayas - A. Sano (30-1)

Pavel - 3yo gr colt - Creative Cause x Mons Venus (Maria's Mon) - M. Gutierrez - D. O’Neill (20-1)

Collected - 4yo ch colt - City Zip x Helena Bay (GB) (Johannesburg) - M. Garcia - B. Baffert (6-1)

[kickmag]

Moses Sumney Shares Quarrel Single Before The Release Of Aromanticism

Moses Sumney is getting ready for the release of Aromanticism and “Quarrel” is the second single from the album. Thundercat plays bass on the murky single produced by Cam Obi. Aromanticism will be released September 22nd and Sumney kicks off his tour tomorrow at the BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn! Festival.

                                     Moses Sumney Tour Dates

8/11 Brooklyn, NY – BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn! Festival

9/02 Dorset, UK – End of the Road Festival

9/22 San Diego, CA – Irenic

9/24 Los Angeles, CA – Hollywood Bow

l9/26 San Francisco, CA – Great American Music Hall

9/28 Seattle, WA – Crocodile

9/29 Portland, OR – Doug Fir Lounge

9/30 Vancouver, BC – St. James Hall

10/03 Minneapolis, MN – Icehouse

10/04 Chicago, IL – Old Town School of Folk

10/05 Toronto, ON – Mod Club

10/09 Cambridge, MA – Sinclair

10/11 Brooklyn, NY – Music Hall of Williamsburg

10/12 Philadelphia, PA – First Unitarian Church

10/14 Asheville, NC – Mothlight

10/15 Atlanta, GA – Afropunk Festival

10/17 Houston, TX – White Oak Music Hall

10/18 Austin, TX – Parish

10/21 Los Angeles, CA – El Rey Theatre

10/30 Brighton, UK – Komedia

10/31 London, UK – Islington Town Hall

11/02 Paris, FR – Pitchfork Music Festival

11/03 Bruges, BE – Cactus Club

11/05 Eindhoven, NL – So What’s Next?

11/07 Cologne, DE – Kulturkirche

11/08 Prague, CZ – Meetfactory

11/09 Munich, DE – Ampere

11/12 Berlin, DE – Berghain Kantine

11/14 Copenhagen, DK – Lille Vega

11/16 Amsterdam, NL – Vondelkerk

11/17 Luxembourg, LU – Sonic Visions Festival

11/18 Hamburg, DE – Überjazz Festival: Kampnagel K2

11/20 Brussels, BE – Botanique – Rotunde

11/22 Zürich, CH – Rote Fabrik