#i was just thinking about that recently and it made me wonder if the sawyer boys would have gone through a similar process

[ofthehands]

I wonder how little the Sawyer brothers were when they started helping their Grandpa at the slaughterhouse. With child labor laws, of course, they wouldn’t technically be able to start working at the slaughterhouse till 14 or 16 or so, but tbh my grandparents do similar work and I started helping my Grandpa when I was like 6-10. 

How old do you think they were when they first watched a cow get slaughtered? When they first participated? Did they start by dragging the bodies away, or did Grandpa want them slitting throats and bashing in heads as soon as possible, so they could live up to his legacy? How long were they spending in the slaughterhouse, with the smells and sounds and sights of dead and dying cattle? How young were they when they watched the meat get prepared- when they watched them get strung up, watched the innards get tugged out? How old were they when they got used to it all? When the violence didn’t matter to them any more? 

And of course, if they were raised in the other kind of meat too, how old were they the first time they did all that to a human? 

[scorpioriesling]

Tight Black Leathers

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x reader

Warnings: SMUT, mdni, 18+

Summary: As Liam's girlfriend, you've been feeling rather... fed up, lately, that he's been ordered to hang out all day with another female. So... whatever will you do about it?

SR’s Note: Ooh, switching it up with a Fourth Wing fic? Okay, okay... and yes of course, Liam is my favorite character from Fourth Wing. No, I still haven't recovered. No, I probably never will. Denial is a river in Egypt-

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You clicked the power button on your phone once more, checking fruitlessly to see if your boyfriend had responded to your message. Of course, he hadn't -- but you'd expected as much. It was Friday, which meant he was on Violet-duty today, per usual.

With a sigh, you tucked the device into your pocket, zipping it shut as a familiar voice approached behind you.

"Hey Y/N!" Rhiannon's usual bubbly tone made you smile, and she took in your state. Her face softened as she took you in a warm embrace. You appreciated the kindness she offered you -- her friendship was a priceless one you'd made after crossing the parapet. She was one of the only people, other than your boyfriend, who truly understood how hard it was to be a rider when you were meant your whole life to be a healer instead.

"Still haven't heard from him?" She asks softly, releasing you. You shake your head, and she loops her arm through yours, pulling you with her in a cadence down the dormitory hallway.

"Well, there's no point in waiting around doing nothing," she starts. "We may as well have some lunch, hmm?" As if on cue, your stomach gurgles, and you both chuckle at the sound. You truly couldn't be more grateful -- you hadn't eaten all morning.

Entering the cafeteria, you find your squad -- well, most of them. Imogene's unmissable pink hair shakes back and forth as she listens to a ridiculous story Ridoc recounts; Sawyer is laughing at something Bodhi is saying across the table. You can't help but wonder...

"Hey guys!" Ridoc greets Rhiannon and you with a smile, but you only continue to search the tables near you. Imogene folds her arms over her chest, sitting back in her chair.

"He's not here," she says, and you look to her. Rhiannon takes a seat, motioning for you to sit by her, but you only stare at Imogene in hopes she'll keep talking. "Violet took the lunch break to get in extra training time, so-"

You squeeze your eyes shut, head dropping to face the floor. You'd been missing him so much recently, since Xaden assigned him to follow your fellow cadet around like a guardian, you barely saw him anymore. Your own boyfriend. He was spending time with another female. That was really starting to get old.

"Of course." You clip. Ridoc huffs a laugh, and Rhiannon glares at him.

"He's only doing what Xaden tells him-" Bodhi begins, and your eyes slide to his.

"Anymore, I don't really care what Xaden-" Your rage begins to bubble over, and the table falls silent as their gazes drift behind you. Shadows curl around your fists, the cool tendrils working against your warmed skin.

"Care what Xaden... what, exactly? As your Wingleader, I would love to hear you finish that sentence, Y/N." Xaden's lethally calm voice sounds from behind you, and you glance over your shoulder, face falling at the realization. You shake your head.

"I... it's... look, I just think it's a bit much to have Liam following Violet around all day, don't you think? Can't she defend herself?" You ask. His hard gaze on you only intensifies.

"I would say Liam is one of the strongest in this wing, wouldn't you agree?" He asks, and you nod.

"Yes, but-"

"So he will continue to defend what's most precious to me." He says in finality, turning to walk away as you scoff, throwing your hands in the air.

"What about what's most precious to me, huh? I never get to see him anymore because you're always having him whisked away to defend your girlfriend -- isn't that your job!?" You nearly shout. The entire room goes silent, and Bodhi slaps a hand over his mouth. Rhiannon's jaw is practically on the floor, but your eyes are only met with Xaden's searing gaze as he turns to face you once more. He steps close to you, speaking again in his constrained, calm voice.

"I highly suggest you take the rest of the afternoon off, cadet y/l/n. You seem a bit high strung -- wouldn't want you too worked up for the challenges later this evening." The muscle in his jaw ticks as you turn on your heel, beelining for the exit and stomping all the way back to your dorm room.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You know what? Xaden was right. The afternoon off was exactly what you needed before a night full of challenges. You spent the whole afternoon getting yourself more riled up within the confines of your dorm, pacing back and forth and glaring into your mirror. Did you nap? Nope. Try to calm down, do some meditation, maybe? Absolutely not. Perhaps stretch, or read a book so you were at ease before the night began then. Hell no.

You were ripping a brush through your long hair, slamming it down on your desk when you decided the strands were untangled enough. You yanked at the band around your wrist, muscle memory causing your hands to wind your hair into a ponytail atop your head when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You glance down at your phone still dark on your desk, and an idea sparks in your mind. Dropping your hands, you run them through the strands a few times before separating the mass into three sections. Since he likes the Sorrengail so damn bad, you thought. Maybe you'd show him you she wasn't anything special. She was just like everyone else here; she was just like you.

Securing the band at the base of the tight braid, you sway side to side, pleased with the result. Pulling on your tightest-fitting leathers and boots, you sheath your finest daggers and head out of your room. Within minutes, you've crossed the courtyard and are in the training center, approaching a mat near the center where you find Ridoc and Bodhi and Rhiannon gathered. Rhiannon turns when Ridoc whistles loudly at you. You lighten your steps on instinct, realizing you're still stomping your way across the mats toward them.

"Ohhhh my, Y/N," she looks you up and down, taking you in fully. You huff a breath, pretending not to notice her stare. Or Ridoc's. Or Bodhi's. Or Violet's...

Or Liam's. From three mats over.

"New tactic?" Ridoc laughs, and you roll your eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uhhh, distracting your opponent with the tightest black fighting leathers you could find?" Rhiannon giggles, and you scoff, feigning innocence. Bodhi only groans.

"CADETS, attention please!" Emmetario shouts. He stalks closer to the mat you stand before, calling off more pairs for challenges. You and your friends watch as people fight and wrestle match after match. Rhiannon wins her challenge, Ridoc hands Jack Barlowe's ass to him, and your attention snags on the mat a few feet away as a new pairing is called forth. Your perfect, wonderful boyfriend is taking the mat, shucking off his tee and revealing his perfectly toned body, abdominals flexing as he laughs at something Xaden says. He takes a fighting stance as another guy from third wing stands opposite him, and they begin. It's not long before Liam has the poor fella on the floor, tapping out. Being the kind male he is, Liam hops off and helps him up, shaking his hand and offering him a kind smile after they finish their challenge.

As he is exiting the mat, his eyes meet yours and widen slightly, raking over your body as he slowly steps off the platform. They linger on the straps clinging to the curve of your ass, then trail back up to the form-fitting compression shirt you've chosen and his brows knit in confusion when he notices your new hairstyle. You tilt your chin up and flip your hair over your shoulder, just as Emmetario bellows once more.

"Bodhi and Y/N!"

You walk onto the mat, Rhiannon cheering from the sidelines. Bodhi looks to you in silent apology, and you position yourself close to your friend, taking your beginning stance. You can see the worry in his expression, and you glance to your left as Liam, Violet, and Xaden flank the edge of the mat to observe as well.

"Bodhi, it's alright. I know you won't hurt me for real," You say. He grins at you.

"Never." Is all he says, taking his beginning position, not-so-subtly drinking in your form so close to his. You smirk.

"Begin!" Emmetario calls. Bodhi immediately lunges for you, but you're quick and dodge his advance, and he stumbles forward -- you've trained with him countless times, you knew he'd make the first move. You snake to the side, wrapping your arms around his midsection and using your whole body weight to throw yourselves both to the ground. You cry out as you land on your own elbow, and he tries to roll you onto your back. You dig your heels into the ground, fighting with all your strength to stay to the side of him and not let him get on top. He's stronger though, flipping you with his hands around your knees. You plant both feet in his ribs, knocking into him with as much force as you can muster and he falls back with a sharp cry.

The growing crowd winces and you jump to your feet once more, him following suit and clutching his side only for a moment before charging you once more. You crouch; but you're too slow this time. In seconds, his hands wrap around your waist and your thrown over his shoulder, hands smacking against his back.

You know what comes next -- this is the part where your opponent will throw you onto the mat, onto your back, knocking the wind out of you. You won't let that happen; not tonight. You tap into the rage you felt, all day, all week, and unleash it, feeling every feeling all over again.

Anger. You push against Bodhi, his hands losing grip and you tumbling haphazardly down his back. "Keep pushing, Y/N!" Rhiannon shouts.

Hate. You turn, Bodhi's still doubled over. Now's your chance. You run, jump, cling onto him, grabbing his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist-

Jealousy. It was a ploy. He whips you around, throwing you to the mat, hard. You shriek, breath catching in your throat as he holds you down with his forearm. He gazes down at you, his familiar friendly orbs glowing with warmth as he shifts uncomfortably above you.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N, but... I'll be damned if anyone ever climbs me like a fuckin' tree-" the words die in his throat as your red-hot emotions dissipate, laughter rising and breaking free past your lips as he chuckles along with you.

"I don't care! I said she's done!" The sharp tone has your gaze turning to the left, the crowd making way as Emmetario calls after the tall male entering the mat and heading straight for you. In seconds, Bodhi's weight is completely lifted off of you and you suck in a breath of full, delightful air.

"Yep, and you can stay the fuck off of her, thank you very much," Liam gripes, bending down to grasp both of your hands in his and pull you up. You gasp as pain blooms in your back, and he begins leading you off the mat, away from the crowd. Toward the exit.

"Liam... Liam... I didn't tap out; my challenge wasn't over-" you stutter. He turns, his raging blue eyes narrowed on you. Yours widened in shock as you register an emotion so rare, especially for him you almost missed it.

Sadness.

"Trust me. It was over."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Liam, it's only a bruise, it'll be healed in a few-"

"He shouldn't have been man-handling you like that."

You stare at him, pacing back and forth in your dorm room from the bed where you sit. He half carried you back here a half hour ago, ending your challenge early and ignoring orders from a professor in the process. Now he seemed all worked up over your injuries, which were rather minor, at that.

"Like what, exactly? Liam, I've trained with Bodhi a million times. I know he would never hurt me. Not for real, anyways." You say, and Liam meets your gaze. His deep blue eyes are as dark as the midnight sea, only illuminated by the candle lights in your room. He chews on his bottom lip, halting his pacing.

"He trains with you?" He asks quietly. You scoff incredulously, fiddling with the band at the end of your braid and loosening the strands.

"Yeah? He's my friend, Liam. I have to have someone to spar with, right? It's not like my boyfriend is exactly... available..." you trail off, casting your eyes toward the floor. You finish undoing your braid, the strands hanging in loose waves over your shoulders. His brows knot in confusion.

"Y/N, what are you... what do you mean?" he walks close, kneeling before you, placing his hands on your knees. His face is level with yours, and Gods damn you if you don't want to kiss him-

"You know I'm always here for you Y/N..." he says softly. You meet his gaze, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to keep it from quivering.

"Liam... I barely even see you anymore." Oh boy, here we go. "You always have to be with... with Violet... and if I do see you, it's never in our own privacy... I never just get you alone, to myself..." you trail off. He presses a soft kiss to your knee, and you praise yourself for changing into shorts and one of his big shirts when you returned earlier.

"Baby... you know I just have to hang out with Violet for now, just because of all the attacks and such, but," he places another soft kiss further up your thigh, and you feel your pulse quickening by the second. "...you have me alone... right now, right?" He asks sweetly, his eyes meeting yours again. You lean back on your elbows, and though his tone is sweet, the lust swirling in his irises tells a different story. You nod wordlessly, and he continues moving up your body, softly pushing up the hem of your shirt with his fingertips. His eyes remain in contact with your as he plants soft kisses up your abdomen, the muscles flexing as you fight to remain calm under his searing touch.

He pulls back, lips curing into a wicked grin as his eyes waver to your waistband, and he hooks a finger under the seam.

"If you wanted to be... man-handled... you could have just... asked." He says, your eyes widening at his words. Heat pools between your thighs, the incessant need for your boyfriend to ravage you only growing with every passing second he teases you. He chuckles, slipping a hand beneath the bands of both your shorts and underwear and wasting no time sliding a finger through your folds, easily gliding through the slickness. His lusting gaze meets yours again, and his free hand pushes himself closer to you on the bed.

"Mmm... you really have been missing me, haven't you?" You nod, looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. He shakes his head, cupping your jaw and running a thumb over your lower lip while continuing to tease your leaking heat with his other hand.

"Such a good girl... I haven't been around as much as I should, have I." He says it more to himself, his forefinger circling your entrance and you rock your hips forward, aching for more.

"I haven't been as good of a boyfriend lately, and I'm sorry for that, okay?" He cups your cheek, and you meet his gaze.

"Liam... please..." you beg.

"Let me make it up to you?" He asks. Your nod of confirmation is all he needs as he slips both his index and middle fingers in -- knuckles deep. You gasp, jolting forward a bit and he pulls out, reinserting and driving them back in again. You bite out a moan, leaning back on your hands and looking up into his eyes. He's smirking down at you, drinking in every inch of your complexion as he massages that spongy spot inside of you.

"Liam..." you chant. "Liam, oh... my..... please-" He rises from his knees on the floor, continuing to curl his fingers inside you, to hover over you. He cuts off your whimpers with a beautiful, bruising kiss that is both sloppy and salivating. A mix of tongue and teeth clash as you make out with a primal need, his teeth finding your swollen bottom lip and playfully latching on. You groan once more, feeling the warm band in your stomach tightening.

"Gods I'm... I'm so-" Liam retracts his fingers and you groan, his lips finding yours again. He shucks his trousers off, kicking his boots off moments later. He breaks the kiss, yanking his shirt over his head and pulling yours off after, your bottoms following. Laying bare before him, he breathes deep, loosing his breath through the nose as he hovers overtop of your naked form.

"Y/N, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he says sweetly. You blush, even though this is the hundredth time you've had sex with the man and probably the hundred millionth time he's called you pretty. You feel his hard on grounding against you, and you wiggle your hips, only creating more friction. Liams hand meets your hip, holding firm.

"Tsk tsk," he says, kissing your nose. His hand snakes between the two of you, his knuckles brushing against your pelvis making you shiver. His fingers wrap around the length of his cock and stroke a few times as he inches closer, and when the head finally makes contact with your dripping core, you whimper.

"Li... please..." He flashes you a devilish grin, his cute dimple warming your heart as your hands find their way to his built shoulders atop you.

"Since you asked so nicely," he says lowly, and pushes into you. You suck in a breath, the small stretch increasingly painful as he continues to push in, inch by delicious inch. The pleasure courses through you when he is finally fully sheathed inside of you, a growl escaping his throat as his hips retract and slam back in with immeasurable force.

"LIAM-" You shout. He pulls his hips back again, only pulling out half way as he continues to pound into you relentlessly, relishing in every breathless moan and scream of his name he can pull from your perfect lips.

"So tight, baby.... my gorgeous, gorgeous girl," he praises. Your hands slide down his tones arms, and the calloused fingers on one of his hands thread through your delicate ones, holding them to the mattress above your head. His breath comes out in short pants, and you let out a particularly sharp gasp.

"Ugh, fuck Liam; just like that," you breathe. His fingers let go of yours and wrap around your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. HIs pace quickens as your breasts bounce with every quick thrust he delivers.

"You feel so good, Y/N," he says between breaths. His soft grunts almost send you over the edge, the new pace and angle spurring the impending orgasm from within. His warm breath tickles your neck, and his lips find your cheek, placing a single kiss as he continues to savagely thrust into you. "So perfect..." he whimpers.

You can't hold it together long enough to warn him this time as you fly over the edge, your orgasm barreling through you. You cry out, hands tugging on the ends of Liam's hair as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock that hasn't yet slowed, riding you through your high. Your thighs start to shake, and Liam's mouth drops open as his eyes meet yours once more.

"Oh fuck, Y/N-" he jolts, releasing inside of your pulsing core as his movements begin to slow. Your combined ragged breaths are the only sounds filling the room, and his fingers trace the curve of your collarbone as his eyes lovingly gaze into yours again. You offer him a soft smile in your fucked-out state and he chuckles, slowly slipping out of you and retrieving a cloth from your desk. You move to take it from him, but per usual, he insists on cleaning you up himself.

Ahh, the gentleman he is.

He returns from tossing the cloth in the wastebasket, and you pull his big tee over your head for the second time today. He frowns at you, and shrugs, reaching for his pants and pulling them back up over his hips. He takes the spot on the bed next to you, propping up on an elbow to stare down upon you.

"I meant it," he starts, and you sigh.

"Liam-"

"Really, Y/N. I know its shitty that I have to always hang around with Violet. I know it sucks that it means I have less time with you. And... and I know it isn't your favorite thing. It isn't mine either." He says, taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his index finger before letting it fall, and going for another piece.

"I know this, and I still listen to Xaden's orders. I know that doesn't make me a very good boyfriend, and I need to do better." He says in finality with a nod. "I'll talk to Xaden in the morning about it." You lean up off the bed, planting your lips on his. His hands cradle the back of your head, kissing you back with all the love he has to give. When you pull away, you know that no matter what, no matter how much or how little time you have together, there's no changing the connection the two of you share.

"Liam, I don't think I could find a better boyfriend than the one laying next to me in this very moment. You're as good as they get, my love."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

[deathsmallcaps]

@derinthescarletpescatarian has a wonderful scifi story called Time To Orbit: Unknown, where the main character Aspen comes from floating (on water*) mangrove forests. On the discord we talked about how Arborean kids might play with little floating isles for fun (and/or spite). And with some recent reveals about Aspen’s family, we’ll. I just wanted to make a little comic set in their last (Aspen uses they/them!)

*a lot of readers, myself included, thought this meant a floating-in-the-sky deal. It’s a running joke now.

Individual panels and the conversation that inspired under the cut, as well as a transcript for the conversation. I outlined the people in red and pink to help them stand out against the shading better, and to show that their a family. In previous fanart, I outlined Aspen in red. So if I did a scene about Denish’s family, they’d be purple, and so on.

Transcript for the last two pictures below

It’s a discord chat. The cancel thing is an joke on the server.

Deathsmallcaps - Cancelled!

I feel like Arborean kids who are rebellious often try to start their own drifting islands, and push off from the shore. Their hippy parents are like,

"good initiative, kiddos! We'll send a boat by sunset just to bring some more supplies if you want"

Ultimate Ragnorok, replying to previous message

and islands made from one moderately large tree and a couple smaller ones are always visible from some part or another of the shore. Sometimes they bring back the island and join them with the main one, since most trees can merge with one another and become a larger network like that even between species

Deathsmallcaps - Cancelled!

I can see this becoming a lot of very cute pirate games

Dea626

very tom sawyer

/azirpidia/ (called gpedia on the server, my phone didn’t allow me to copy their phonetic symbols)

Tom sawyer and Huckleberry Finn

Huckleberry Finn, come to think of it, would be a valid Arborean name from what we've seen of Arborean nmes

Dea626

YES

mark twain, time traveler??

End transcript

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Tex Sawyer X Reader

This is a request for https://uraveragegorewhore.tumblr.com/

(Apologies for not tagging this correctly tumblr was being a bitch)

"Get the son of a bitch tinker!", I was awoken by my boyfriend, Tex yelling to his brother, we had recently found some more poor souls on the side of the road and apparently one of them was giving ex a hard time while he was trying to take him to Bubba.

I got myself out of bed and slipped on one of Tex's shirts, and padded my way out of our bedroom and down the stairs, i followed the sound of the struggle to the kitchen. After rubbing the sleep out of my eyes for the last time i came face to face with what was happening.

A man who looked like he was almost Bubba's size was putting up a hell of a fight for Tex that even Tinker had to step in and help Tex since Bubba was probably waiting downstairs for the fresh meat. Usually Tex would have been able to handle the victims himself since he was quite strong, but he rarely encounters someone bigger then him.

"Tinker don't just stand there go get Bubba!" Tex yelled at his older brother as the man once again tried to escape Tex's grip on his arms, i was too busy watching Tinker head to the basement door to call Bubba up to help that i didn't notice the man get away from Tex and make a break towards me.

The man tackled me to the floor but not before managing to slam me against the kitchen wall, the pain ripped through my back and i instinctively screamed out in pain, the man tried to put his hands around my neck but was torn off of me before he could.

I turned my head to see Tex on top of him punching him to a pulp.

"Junior, Get your ass up here we need help!" Tinker yelled down to Bubba before running over and Helping Tex not only beat he living hell out of the man but take control of him as well.

I heard the basement door open as Bubba emerged, chainsaw in hand, ready to defend his family , once he had taken over and was making quick work of the man, Tex made his way over to where i was sitting against the wall holding the back of my head.

"Darlin" Tex said softly sitting down next to me "Are you ok?" He asked replacing my hand on the back of my head with his and gently rubbing the area that had been slammed into the wall minutes ago.

"I'm fine Tex, it just hurts like hell" i said as he brought me into his arms and lifted me into a bridal carry.

"Tink, I'm gonna take Y/n upstairs, You and Junior make sure that son of a bitch is really dead" Tex spat before turning around and making his way with me back up to the bedroom.

When we reached the bedroom Tex laid me down on the bed, and then when to the bathroom connected to the bedroom. He emerged minutes later with the bottle of pain medicine we kept in the medicine cabinet and a glass of water.

"Here darlin" he said handing them to me, i smiled at him softly before taking the pills and then setting the glass on the bedside table. It was quiet for a moment before i noticed Tex staring at me from the spot he took in a chair right next to the bed.

"I'm fine Tex, I promise" I comforted him "You got him off me before any real damage could happen, You saved me" i said sitting up to make eye contact with him. He shook his head slightly before getting up and joining me on the bed.

"He shouldn't have even gotten away from me" Tex said putting his arms around me and laying both of us down, A much softer side of Tex he only ever showed around me. He placed his cheek against the top of my head and i wrapped my arms around his stomach and placed my head on his chest as we talked.

"Baby you had no idea that was going to happen" I told him "He got away from you and for some reason wen straight after me" i said "That was not your fault" i felt his chest rise up and down as he sighed.

"When i saw him running towards you i saw red" He replied "Something just came over me, When he touched i wanted to break all the fingers in his hands and make him suffer for even thinking he could touch you" I could feel him tensing as he talked about the man, i started to rub my hand on his chest to calm him down.

"I love you" He said after a minute or two, i paused rubbing his chest, it was the first time either of us had said those three words to each other.

"W-what?" I asked him, wondering if i had just heard him wrong.

"I love you Y/n" he said confidently "I love you more then anything in the world" he said as he dipped his head down to place his forehead against mine, i smiled at him, tears brimming my eyes.

"I love you too, Tex" I told him which made him smile as wide as ever "More then anything" I said.

He laughed slightly before attaching his lips to mine, i put my arms around his neck to bring him closer if that was even possible.

When we both came up for air, we smiled at each other and Tex rubbed his nose against mine as we cuddle up together and soon were both lulled off to sleep.

[red-doll-face]

I just found your blog and I LOVE IT.

If I might ask: What’s your saddest dbd headcanons (killers or survivors)

Call me crazy, but I must know! ❤️

Ohh this one was a good one but it hurt me so badddd, ahhh. I’m glad to share , I have some bad dbd brain rot lmaooo I didn’t do every character so I hope these are ok 🥺 these are a bit long too

Sad Dead by Daylight Hcs

Claudette Morel:

Claudette is one of the criers. Probably cries while getting mori’d and can't help the tears during the really bad matches. Her pain tolerance isn’t very high, hence the willingness to waste time healing herself if it means she can stop being in so much pain.

Meg Thomas:

Spends time alone thinking about her past life. Her mother is a subject that makes her really frustrated. People mentioning their moms makes her a little standoffish. Wishes she had a chance to say goodbye in some way.

Ace Visconti:

Ace doesn't have much family to even miss him. He wonders if they noticed he’s gone or hasn’t come back. Maybe they think he hit big bucks and left them behind. Ace is stuck really. Even if he were to go back, he’d be dead or working off his debt.

Feng Min:

Gets super mad when she loses, it makes her so angry that she doesn’t control the trials. She blames other people for her losses but actually is very critical of herself. Casts the blame on others so she doesn't have to face her own mistakes.

David King:

All of his perks are about putting his ass on the line for his teammates yet everyone seems to think he’s selfish and a dumb brute. David doesn't know what to do to be more approachable; genuinely wants to be seen as a friend.

Laurie Strode:

Laurie never got the chance to mourn her friends. She thought she won. Finding out she’ll never truly escape Michael or be able to forget him makes her so mad. When she gets Michael in trials she makes sure the glass in her pocket is extra jagged and serrated.

Jane Romero:

Jane only wanted recognition and acknowledgement. Everything she's worked so hard for feels like a waste for her now. She should have spent more time on herself or with her father. Jane feels like she has no purpose anymore besides running and screaming for the enjoyment of the entity.

Yui Kimura:

Yui can’t stand the Clown or the Stealth Killers. Reminds her of bad memories. When she loses against killers like ghostface, she is especially angry.Her fighting spirit can’t help her actually get back at them.

Zarina Kassir:

Spent so much time fighting inequality only to spend the rest of her life where the odds are never in favor of the survivors. Where the oppressed are destined to lose. Each one of the people is subjugated, both killer and survivor and there's nothing she can do to free them.

Cheryl Mason:

She's been through literal hell and back just to end up in a weird recurring nightmare. At least Silent Hill had an escape. She's killed a god and somehow someone her size with a boxcutter can kill her? Huh.

Élodie Rakoto:

Feels guilty over the loss of her parents and feels extremely disillusioned by this realm. It's so much more boring than she thought it would be. All of her searching and traveling was not worth this shithole.

Steve Harrington:

Steve, though 18, is very much still a kid. Steve is naive about certain things and his optimism gets chipped away at a lot. Wasn’t too enthusiastic at having to care or look after Dustin and his friends but misses having people to protect.

Jeff Johannson:

Someone who definitely ends up taking hooks for people and ends up dying. Has a reputation among the killers as a survivor who is easy to leverage during the endgame because he will try for that save.

Kate Denson:

Feels very lucky to even have her guitar. The other survivors didn't get to bring many things with them. Makes her feel a little bad when she Often feels too worn out and exhausted by the trials to play it.

Quentin Smith:

Unfortunately stuck in pseudo-hell with his abuser. Gets really anxious against Freddy. Leans on his fellow survivors. Will sometimes accidentally bring Freddy to others in an attempt to get Freddy the hell away for him.

Evan ‘The Trapper’ Macmillan:

Actually has tried on numerous occasions to remove the metal rods and shrapnel embedded in his skin. It hurts like hell and just when he thinks he’s got it, he loses grip. These attempts never work.

Philip ‘The Wraith’ Ojomo:

When he’s alone, Philip will try and talk to himself. His vocal cords are warped, his voice a scratchy growl and garbled gurgle. He remembers what he used to sound like but he tries talking less and less.

Max ‘The Hillbilly’ Thompson Jr.:

Besides being named after someone who locked him away for most of his life? Max has to rest a lot between trials. The constant movement puts strain on him and causes him dull pain. His back causes him a lot of grief. The Entity is barely merciful.

Michael ‘The Shape’ Myers:

Meant to be forgotten by everyone who ever knew of him and he knows it. Loomis, after deciding that Michael couldn't be ‘fixed’ just hoped that the system would swallow him. If it weren't for the entity, Michael knows he'd either be dead or caught and back with Loomis.

Bubba ‘The Cannibal’ Sawyer:

Used to be one of the nicer killers to go against and might have been sweet to certain survivors who deserved kindness. But the Entity punished him for it. Bubba isn't very nice anymore. Probably a little meaner to avoid being in trouble again.

Amanda ‘The Pig’ Young:

Another one down to give second chances, much like the second chance she saw in John Kramer. Doesn’t do this a lot however, therefore escaping the ire of the Entity. She’s spent a lifetime hurting others emotionally and physically. Now, she’ll spend an eternity.

Rin ‘The Spirit’ Yamaoka:

The pain and anguish is so heavy but time is no cure in a place where time is nonexistent. No happiness to replace her rage. Especially in a place where her anger is a weapon for a greater power. Also has tried to pull the glass out of her skin and press her limbs back together. Can’t stand to see herself in the mirror.

Adiris ‘The Plague’:

Her body is always on the precipice of falling apart. Her skin rots; her flesh aches and feels like it will tear away at any moment. She is immortalized yet so close to death. Her body hurts so much but she has a purpose to serve. (makes me even sadder bc jannneeeee my mainnnnn😔)

Kazan ‘The Oni’ Yamaoka:

Misses his son. Never got to see him grow up, considering he;s already met his descendant. Proud from a distance because that's all he can be. The beginning of something so angry that it passes down his family line.

Caleb ‘The Deathslinger’ Quinn

During his life, was under the control of people who made him work for their gain who used him. The Entity emphasizes the killers as a position of power but Caleb does much of the same here. Works and works. Never for himself.

Pyramid Head ‘The Executioner’:

His existence has always included pain. He’s not quite sure what it’s like without it. He’s made several efforts to take the pyramid off. It pulls painfully at his neck. Makes awful groaning noises and roars.

Ji-Woon ‘The Trickster’ Hak:

Has never been much more than entertainment for other people since he was a child. Never expected to be much more. To the point that now, if he doesn't feel impressive in some way, he feels incomplete. The entity is his way to really indulge his ‘true artistry’.

Yun-Jin Lee:

A bit selfish when it comes to surviving. A few people around the campfire dont like her for that reason. Some of the meaner people will even leave her behind because they remember all of the times Yun-Jin might have done something similar.

Thanks for reading!!! I’m sorry I don’t post often but I have Shit ton of hw and I recently started a new project sooo ya know 💖💖💖

[gcdisms]

@triggerbigger​ 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡   :   iris :   if your muse could convey one last message to someone they have lost or left behind ,   what would it be ?  :^)    ——— （   BOTANICAL HEADCANONS  ‣‣  ACCEPTING ） 

ANDREA JONES SAWYER . “ i’ve never had the ability to accumulate my words ,  especially in regards to my feelings towards you -  in truth, i don’t think i ever will, no amount of education and reading will give me the skills to weave together the english language enough to walk away from this meeting feeling truly satisfied .  i think that’s okay,  i think that’s apart of the healing; i still have much of a journey ahead of me to finally feel the relief of ridding your looming shadow over me. you were my first taste of the bitterness in a world that never pretends to be anything but razor edges and disappointment - i resent you for that... hate you for it, how could i not ? you were supposed to be my mother, you were supposed to help guide me through the pain that living brings, instead you only added to the cruelty and threw me onto the blades ; that isn’t a mother, it took me a long time to realize what motherhood is, and i know stepping back, looking at how you treated me... no, how you treated me AND ashley - neither of us had it good. me, thrown to the side and forced to fend for myself and ashley, so suffocated by your love that he barely had room to grow roots beyond you and henry - i used to be jealous of him, in comparison its easy to see why . now ... i just hope he grows, learns, it’s never too late, not for anyone . 

in many ways im grateful for how life played out, i’m aware there is apart of you that is going to twist that - claim that as a result, it was you who made me. but that isn’t true,  i’m the reason im sat here today . you were a lesson, that’s all. one lesson stacked up on millions. i mean ... fuck,  you’re someone i never want to be, in another world, you cradled me in your arms and treated me as your own, an equal ; i dread to think that there is a me out there who took after you, at least this you  -  maybe in that world, you’re the woman you secretly want to be. 

you know... there was a moment where i think i was like you, a mini you - i was young, i was vicious and i was cruel, i didn’t care who i hurt only that it wasn’t me that was hurting, it felt good ... it makes me wonder if you experience the same rush in these moments that i did back then . and that girl ... that isn’t who i am anymore - i’m ... this, i’m better, i’m a work in process, but the project is beautiful.  and when i look at you, i simply see a cold, brutal woman who will never be free of her chains .  take it from me,  the heaviness of them will only grow worse if you don’t let go, if you don’t rip them from their attachment to your skin. it’s not easy, but surely it’s far better than the alternative ? 

i suppose you’re wondering why i’m doing my best to be calm, to be collected. admittedly, this is... hard for me. believe me, it’d be so easy to fall victim to my past self . to threaten violence, to scream obscurities and rub in my recent success in your face ; i think past me deserves that, i’m upset i have to deprive her of that . but she’ll understand, and she’ll also understand when i say this : i’m sorry. 

i’m sorry that you have never really felt love . i’m sorry that you see life as a business and nothing more . i’m sorry that my existence was such a burden on you,  i’m sorry that i will be the heavy confession on the tip of your tongue at the pearly gates when you’re forced to own up to every mistake you’ve ever made, i’m sorry that i’ll be the last thing that keeps you from total salvation . 

i ... truly, i have nothing else to say despite feeling a need to say more,  but it would be empty -  it would be rambles which i’m sure neither of us need .  and i need you to know,  whether or not you find peace is not my concern,  this was about me moving on, it’s about closing a chapter i never want to visit again,  but ... i’d be lying if i denied that i’m not hoping for the best for you . 

may the next world be kinder to you,  may you be kinder to those around you ... to yourself .  goodbye,  mother .  “ 

[liunaticfringe]

(via Lucy Liu's Independent Woman - Interview Magazine)

There have been many great sidekick pairings in the history of modern literature. Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer, Phileas Fogg and Jean Passepartout, Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet…the list goes on. Yet, it seems there has never been a delightfully tumultuous relationship that comes close to echoing the one embodied by rogue detective Sherlock Holmes and his faithful friend and assistant Dr. John Watson. Written in the form of short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle between the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the opium-den loving Holmes would terrorize London with his intellectual, astute, and stubborn prowess, with Dr. Watson providing medical expertise and chronicling their entertaining exploits along the way.

Doyle’s works have now long been entered into the public domain, with many film and television adaptions cropping up every few years. Still, when CBS announced in 2012 that it would be turning Doyle’s works into an hour-long crime-drama series titled Elementary, it elicited an unusually high response—this was mostly due to the news that a woman would, in fact, be portraying Watson. Her name would be Joan, not John. And she’s now a fallen from grace surgeon-turned-sober companion and private detective, forfeiting her “Dr.” title in the process. The woman chosen to take on this exciting, contemporary role of Joan Watson was none other than seasoned actress Lucy Liu.

Liu, who’s best known for her roles as a fierce and ill-mannered lawyer in Ally McBeal, an ass-kicking “angel” in the rebooted Charlie’s Angels, and an equally ass-kicking bad girl in the Kill Bill series, certainly provides the yin to the yang of Jonny Lee Miller’s gritty portrayal of Holmes. Elementary chronicles the duo’s relationship as they consult for the NYPD on various criminal cases while living in a shared brownstone in Brooklyn Heights. Initially starting off in Season One as a substance-free friend to the fresh-out-of-rehab Holmes with a keen interest in solving crimes, Watson quickly transformed into a sharp and observant right-hand woman who now clearly has the aptitude to work on her own. And it appears she’ll be doing just that—the end of Season Two left viewers witnessing Watson’s decision to move out of the brownstone and start a new career as a solo private detective, seemingly fed-up with Holmes’ erratic behavior.

The warm and delightful Liu recently called up Interview from her home in New York City to discuss Elementary’s upcoming third season.

DEVON IVIE: Were you on set today?

LUCY LIU: I was running around like a maniac, yeah. It’s beautiful today, it started getting a little bit cooler again. But of course I’ve been bitten by the two mosquitos that are still alive in New York City.

IVIE: I know you were recently at New York Comic Con. How was it?

LIU: It was amazing. It’s such a spectator place. Not only do you get super fans, but you also get people who are curious and inventive and imaginative. It’s fun.

IVIE: Did you run into any cosplayers dressed as Joan Watson?

LIU: Oh, no, I don’t know about that. That’s funny! We did a panel with a huge audience so I couldn’t really see if anyone was wearing anything specific, but it’s an excuse for kids and adults to get dressed up and just be crazy. You know you’ve made it when you have super-fans out there.

IVIE: When you first read the scripts for Elementary, what was it that attracted you to the role of Joan?

LIU: I liked the fact that it was going to be about [Joan and Sherlock’s] relationship and their friendship, and bringing that into modern times. And I thought it was wonderful to change up the gender.

IVIE: Did you immerse yourself in Arthur Conan Doyle’s work as preparation at all?

LIU: I did, I did! I started reading the short stories. I never read them before so it was a really great excuse to read them. I can’t believe it was written so long ago, because it’s so current. The characters are so colorful, which is why I think there are so many incarnations of Watson and Holmes.

IVIE: Do you have a favorite story? I love “A Scandal in Bohemia.”

LIU: There were some pretty amazing stories. The one that stood out to me, which was a Watson story that I got to know him a little more through, was “The Hound of the Baskervilles.” He really is on his own in that. Of course it turns out that Holmes has been there all along, but it’s interesting looking into his interior.

IVIE: Yeah, the entirety of “The Hound of the Baskervilles” is narrated just by Watson. And his diary and letters, too.

LIU: Yeah, I think it’s really cool. We started incorporating that into the show, too, the letters and journals.

IVIE: Has this detective genre always appealed to you? Did you grow up watching or reading detective whodunits?

LIU: I remember more of the old school Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys sort of thing. I also grew up with the Scooby-Doo mysteries. Remember when the villain would go, “I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you rascal-y kids!” Those were the kind of the things I immersed myself in. I have to say that my mother has always been a huge fan of Columbo and Murder, She Wrote, so this show was her dream come true. I don’t think she totally understood what was going on with Ally McBeal. [laughs]

IVIE: I’ve enjoyed witnessing Joan’s evolution throughout the course of the show, starting off as a sober companion and eventually ending up as a trusty sidekick and confidant to Sherlock. What can we expect from Joan in Season Three?

LIU: When you see them in the third season, you see some friction between the two characters. Joan is now on her own, she has her own detective agency, has a boyfriend, and has been without Sherlock for eight months. She’s got her own apartment, she’s settled, and he shows back up. I think she’s a little bit hurt by what happened and how their relationship and partnership ended, which was basically his decision and his choice, and he left it all in one little note for her. I think she felt that their relationship was much deeper than that, and that he was dismissive in the way that he handled that.

IVIE: How would you define the relationship between Joan and Sherlock?

LIU: I think that it’s a really positive and good relationship, overall. They really have a good chemistry together, work really hard together, and understand each other. They acknowledge each other and respect each other, which is a really important way to have a friendship. And they can learn from each other, you know? She’s very curious about him and I think he sees that she’s a very smart person—that’s vital for him in having respect for someone, having them be intelligent and thinking for themselves.

IVIE: Do you see any of Joan in yourself?

LIU: I do to a certain degree. She’s a lot more measured and patient, for sure. She’s a very curious person, which I think I am, and I think she isn’t afraid of change. She was a doctor, and then became a sober companion, and then jumped off and became a detective. I think sometimes it’s good to make big leaps.

IVIE: You’ve probably been asked this question many times, but do you think a romance between Joan and Sherlock could ever fittingly happen?

LIU: It’s a question that’s often asked and I think it’s really up to the executives. Rob Doherty, the creator [of Elementary] really feels incredibly strongly about keeping their relationship platonic. He has already taken great strides to keep the relationship as clean as possible according to the literature, but he has also changed so much of it by changing the gender of Watson. To have them have a romantic involvement would turn the whole thing upside-down in a way that might really jump the line. [Doherty] felt really strongly about it and I think that’s the one thing he really wants to stay true to.

IVIE: I totally agree. Even on the BBC’s Sherlock, there are campaigns to get Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock and Martin Freeman’s Watson to become romantically involved. It’s like, enough already, no!

LIU: No way, that’s so weird! People do have that level of friendship oftentimes, but it doesn’t mean it’s physical. I think that everyone just assumes because there’s chemistry the next thing should be happening. I would vote “no” for a romance. I think for sure the creator would vote no on that, too.

IVIE: I’ve talked to both women and men who watch Elementary, and they all consistently mention how well dressed and fashionable Joan is. Do you collaborate with the wardrobe department on styling decisions at all?

LIU: That’s awesome. Yes, I collaborate with Rebecca [Hofherr], who’s the costume designer, who’s wonderful. She’s very easy to work with. One thing we try to maintain about Joan and her style is that she’s a bit wrinkled, you know what I mean? Sometimes it looks like things are really put together, but we always want to make sure things aren’t too tight and are comfortable, kind of like she throws things together. We don’t want it to seem so business-y, so we go away from suits. Chic, but not corporate. Also just to make her seem like her outfits aren’t so put-together all the time. But I’m glad that people really seem to like it, it’s a relief! We don’t splurge a lot on the show, we try to do cheaper things, like things Joan would wear a lot. She wears the same white jacket and shoes frequently.

IVIE: Will we be seeing more of the infamous Clyde the Turtle in the upcoming season?

LIU: Clyde will indeed be in it again. We have to share custody of Clyde.

IVIE: Is it true that Clyde is actually two tortoises? Pulling a Mary Kate and Ashley in Full House on us?

LIU: Yes. It’s just like having twins on a show. Just in case one is crying and screaming and passed out or something.

IVIE: You made your directorial debut for an episode of Elementary last season [“Paint It Black”]. Do you have plans to direct an episode again soon?

LIU: That was so exciting. I’ll be directing another episode again very shortly in December, so you’ll be seeing it in a month and a half.

IVIE: Where did your interest in directing come from?

LIU: I guess I was curious about it. Having been in this business for a while, you kind of see and get a glimpse of everything doing film and television. I think it seemed like a natural progression to go into directing, and I hope to explore more of it, because it’s very exciting and a really good way to collide all the things that you’ve known and experienced in the business and put them all into one.

IVIE: Is there an ideal guest star that you’d like to see on the show in the upcoming season?

LIU: I would love to see Mycroft come back. I really think there was a wonderful tension for Mycroft and Sherlock as well as the triangle that occurred when Joan became involved with him. There’s something very deep about that relationship, and I also think that Rhys Ifans is a fantastic actor. He commands the screen, but off-screen he’s incredibly lovely. A real treat to have on the show.

IVIE: I remember the first few episodes that I saw Rhys in, I was like, where have I seen this guy before? So I looked at his Wikipedia page and it became obvious: he was the crazy guy from Notting Hill!

LIU: Yes, the roommate! So good! Everything he does, he just kills it, no matter the role.

IVIE: And it’s always good to have some MI6 action on the show, which Mycroft provided. Some international flair.

LIU: [laughs] International flair, exactly, some added spice. Just throw some spy stuff in there to throw people off their game. You just don’t expect it, you know? It came out of nowhere.

IVIE: That whole three-episode arc at the end of the second season…

LIU: That was awesome. I was lucky enough to direct one of those episodes, which is more narrative in tone. It’s more fun in some ways, too.

IVIE: You’ve done a range of acting work for both television and film. Do you now find yourself preferring one to the other?

LIU: I love both of them equally. The lack of predictability with television is something that’s constantly changing what your perception of who you think your character is. Suddenly I have a father that’s schizophrenic, or I discovered something else, or I have a relationship with Mycroft. The things that pop up and change the game for you and always keep you on your toes. The wonderful thing about film is that you have something that has a beginning, middle, and end, and you have a concrete amount of time to shoot it. And the process of that can be longer, like editing and advertising and testing the movie, so it’s very different. Television you just continue going, no matter what’s happening outside of your world. You get lost in that vortex a little bit.

IVIE: It’s interesting that America is now embracing the “mini-series” format that has already been so heavily utilized overseas, where there are a set amount of short episodes, and that’s it. In a way, it’s kind of like a cinematic experience.

LIU: I like that, too. It allows you to have a freedom of creativity and at the same time you don’t feel like you have to be contracted to something for that long; you’re really working on a piece of art. And then you’re done and you move on, or it comes back, like Downton Abbey. You don’t know. Those things become little masterpieces. The thing about television is that you see a range of actors now that you may not have seen five years ago even, 10 years ago absolutely not, and I think now there’s no wrong about doing television. There’s no definitive category for what kind of department you fall into anymore.

IVIE: What’s a fun, secret fact about your costar Jonny Lee Miller?

LIU: A fun fact about Jonny Lee Miller is that he oftentimes does handstands on a wall before he does a take, sometimes with pushups, to get blood to his brain and get him geared up for a long monologue that he may have. He stays there, hangs a little bit, and then turns around and does the scene. Most of the time in the brownstone more than anywhere else. He’s in full costume and everything. That’s trivia!

IVIE: I wish I could do wall-handstands by myself.

LIU: Oh my god, I need someone to push my legs up and then hold me there. I’m a cheat!

ELEMENTARY PREMIERES THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30 ON CBS.

[ransomedrogue]

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

ah yes 1.6, so much attempted boundary setting, so little success... it’s mini make up scenes this time around :D

1.6

Weller had been in a bad mood all day; starting from a sleepless night at the office, before moving onto having his objectivity questioned by both Mayfair and Jane. And then there was the fact that he'd tried to compensate for getting called out by being hard on Jane, which had just made him feel shittier about everything. Even stopping the bad guys and blowing up a truck with a perfect grenade toss hadn't improved his disposition, the way it normally would of.

He knew why, of course. It had been eating at him since she said it. But Weller was loath to face what had to be done, despite being sure it was the right thing to do.

Jane was heading towards the elevator, so it was his last chance of the day to talk to her. But Kurt remained nervously irritable, not yet entirely sure he was going to go through with it.

What if she said yes, and told him he was too close? He'd have to accept it of course, though it would be like a dagger to the heart. Still, Weller knew that he had to offer, as much as he didn't want to.

He remembered back to earlier that day, when she had asked about his objectivity. It had struck him so hard, even though everyone else had already been loudly saying the same thing. Because it was Jane, of course. He had told her that he didn't want to make things any harder on her than they already were. So if he didn't want to be a liar then he had to act right then.

So Kurt forced himself to approach, pressing the elevator button and trying to push back the anxiety in his gut. For a moment he paused and considered chickening out, but in the end his personal honour code demanded that he follow through with it.

"Do you want a new lead agent?" he asked, blurting the question out quickly so it didn't get jammed up in his throat.

His heart froze as Jane gave him a confused look.

"What?"

"On your case," he explained.

"Back in the surveillance van you said… that I wasn't objective."

Weller pushed himself to continue, even though he didn't really want to say the next words.

"So I can step down," he said, unable to control the little shake in his voice.

"And Mayfair can assign you a new lead agent."

He felt like his life was hanging on her reply, even though that was very overdramatic. Yet, one little word right then could take her out of his life again, possibly forever.

When Jane eventually affirmed what he believed – that he was exactly the right man for the job, because of his dedication to her case – Weller's shoulders relaxed for the first time that day. He was sure no other agent would do better and, as long as she felt that way too, it didn't matter what anyone else thought.

Kurt was so relieved that he pushed it too far again right away; offering to drive Jane home even though her detail was there to do exactly that. He tried to tell himself he wasn't disappointed when she pulled back and reminded him of the line they were trying to set.

But even that, the way she bit her lip and her shy 'better not'. It killed him.

She was an asset and the girl he'd spent his life trying to find. She had come to him with his name tattooed on her back and yet she wasn't his. It wouldn't be appropriate to act on the feelings she evoked in him, no matter how strongly he felt the connection between them, how much she blew his mind.

He'd been an ass to her all day, and still she hadn't jumped at the chance to get rid of him.

The elevator ride was quiet at first. Weller figured that Jane had already ended the conversation by rejecting his offer of a ride home, yet he still liked just being in the same space as her. It was pathetic, he knew. But true.

About halfway through the ride, Jane turned to him, wearing a serious expression.

"I really am sorry. I definitely don't want anyone else."

How was he supposed to take that?

Weller told his heart to settle down and hoped to hell that his brain would come up with something appropriate to say.

"I'm sorry too, Jane," he spat out, still trying to think though the fluttering in his chest.

"I shouldn't have been so hard on you today. None of that was your fault."

She offered him a hopeful smile that lit the green tint in her eyes, just as the elevator arrived at its destination.

"Thanks," she replied.

"And I meant it about coming for a drink sometime."

Jane ducked her head, her expression turning timid again.

"I don't know," she murmured, as they stepped out onto the parking level.

"It might feel awkward to start. But once Patterson gets going on the shots, she'll make sure you're having a good time."

Her face brightened a little at his words and Kurt struggled to keep his hands to himself, despite having spent an entire day trying to establish a more solid professional boundary.

"Maybe. Thanks for the offer." Jane said, flashing him one more smile before getting into the SUV with her detail.

Weller stood there as the vehicle drove away, his heart still in the same turmoil it had been in all day. It seemed like everyone was harping on him to pull back from her but he wasn't even sure it was possible. His usual rock solid emotional walls had come crashing down and he couldn't rebuild them with the onslaught of her presence.

He had told her that he was working on being objective. He just hadn't mentioned that he already knew he was destined to fail.

###

It was another quiet night alone, with only a head full of questions to keep her company.

Jane sat on the couch with the TV on but turned down so low that it was inaudible. She wondered how Ana was doing, alone in her apartment, with her matching security detail out front.

Her own life had been so action packed during the days and her first few nights had been so full of turmoil and self-questioning that Jane had only recently begun to register her loneliness. It had been a slow realization that everyone else had partners and friends and a life outside of work. Whereas she had just her doubts to keep her company.

Jane briefly wondered what it would be like to have a normal life; the freedom to just head out the door and meet a friend. Even the thought of having real friends seemed like a stretch when she was trying to connect with teenaged hackers.

She cringed a bit thinking about being told off by Weller twice for the same thing, then pushing him away after the truth had slipped out about her loneliness. He'd even asked if she wanted him off the case, which had made her stomach drop out from under her. The thought of losing Weller when she had nothing else to hold onto was terrifying and not at all what she wanted, despite battling with him for most of the day.

He had never been objective about her and most of her really liked that. Despite the pressure she sometimes felt because of it, or the way he'd treated her that day. Weller was possibly the only person on the planet that cared about her, even if their relationship was intense and undefinable.

Jane sighed, realizing that her head was stuck on Kurt again. She looked at the TV for a minute, trying to turn her thoughts in a different direction. She'd love to be able to just go out for a walk on her own, without a team of FBI agents following her. But that was a thought for another day, not something helpful to entertain at the moment.

Her phone rang just then, jolting her out of her head. Jane reached for it in surprise and saw that it was Weller, so she figured that something case related had occurred.

"Hi," she said, picking up the call. "Did something happen?"

"No," Weller replied. "Sorry I didn't mean to worry you. I was just out walking and I thought about what you said earlier."

"About being alone."

He sounded… off. Which made her chest constrict as he paused and waited for her to respond.

Jane wanted to ask if he was okay but didn't know what she would do if he wasn't. In the end she was quiet for too long and Weller must have gotten anxious because he started to apologize again.

"Sorry, right. You need some space. I shouldn't have called," he mumbled.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

It was the same thing he'd said to her the previous night, after she'd held his hand to her heart and told him that he was her starting point. Then tomorrow had come and he'd been cold to her all day. She didn't want that to happen again.

"No, wait. Don't hang up," Jane replied hurriedly.

"Why are you out walking at this time?"

Weller exhaled audibly.

"It's a long story," he said. "I needed some air."

"Which is what made me think, you can't even go out and get a breath on your own."

Part of her was pissed off, that he was only just understanding that even after she spelled it out for him earlier. But it was nice to be talking to Kurt and she didn't want to make more distance between them. So Jane took a tone somewhere in the middle, more teasing than upset.

"Oh, so you're just figuring that out now," she said, trying to keep her voice light.

"Yeah," Weller sighed. "I guess I haven't been seeing everything you're going through, outside of the cases."

Jane wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want his sympathy and yet it did feel good, for her hurts to be acknowledged.

"Anyways, I was walking and I thought maybe you wanted to talk. Not about the case. But so you don't feel so alone."

It was a sweet gesture, if possibly somewhere past the boundary lines they'd been trying to set. But no one else was going to call to talk to her, and she definitely didn't mind being on the phone with Kurt.

"Yeah. I'd like that," Jane said.

"So… what do people talk about on the phone anyways?"

Weller laughed, and she could hear him relax at her question.

"Honestly, I don't talk on the phone much. Especially now with Sarah and Sawyer living at my place. Back when we did call, it was mostly just catching up on what's happened in our lives."

"Well. You're pretty caught up in everything that I know about my life," Jane replied.

"So, it's going to have to be up to you. Tell me what you like to do when you're not working."

She could feel Weller frowning at the idea of not working, but then he laughed again, a little shyly this time. It was a comforting sound, and Jane felt herself smiling in response as Kurt ummed and uhhed a few times before he re-found his voice.

Then, hesitantly at first, Weller started telling her about hot summer evenings at the ballpark, drinking beer and cheering on his team. Which quickly turned into a full fledged conversation about baseball in general and ending up blowing Jane's mind when she was told how much money professional players could make for being good at hitting a ball with a bat.

She asked about his own history as a ballplayer then, which drew a few more embarrassed chuckles from Weller before he opened up about falling in love with the sport as a boy by spending long nights at the local ball field, throwing pitches until his arm was dead tired.

After awhile Jane realized how easy it was to talk to Weller when things weren't loaded with expectation and tension. Despite the way things had been between them that day, it seemed strangely natural to be on the phone with him, laughing at his description of teenage Kurt's athletic prowess.

By the time he was back at his apartment, Weller had given her a full rundown of his military school sports career and Jane was a bit sleepy from being cozy on the couch and listening to Kurt rumble on about baseball. She grinned lazily as she heard Weller opening the door to his building, still telling her about strikeouts and home runs. It was as relaxed as she'd ever been, in her remembered life.

"Are you still awake? I can't believe I just bored you with baseball for so long."

Kurt's voice startled Jane out of her thoughts and back into the conversation.

"Actually, that was really nice," she said. "Thank you."

Weller laughed self-consciously, but she could still hear the smile in his voice.

"Watch out or next time I'll tell you about my failed basketball career," he joked.

"But you're right, that was nice. Thanks for putting up with me."

She heard his worry slip through in his parting words and was startled back into reality. Where he'd offered to recuse himself from the case and they were trying to draw a line between them. Talking on the phone for such a long time hadn't exactly helped that process, yet it had felt so right.

"I wouldn't want anyone else to explain baseball to me," Jane said with a little laugh.

"Goodnight Weller."

"Goodnight Jane," he replied. "See you in the morning."

Jane ended the call with a grin on her face and a warm buzz in her chest. She didn't have much, not even a life to call her own. But at least she still had Weller, despite being at odds with him all day.

[alidravana]

Unwanted Exposure (Ch.2/3)

Summary:  Clay is outed to the Bravo team.

Rating:  T

Length: 2,404 words (total)

Fandom: SEAL Team (TV)

Pairing: Clay Spenser/Trent Sawyer

Prompt:  Using ALT 6: "don't try to pin this on me" in place of Day 9 for FebuWhump 2021.

Warnings: Homophobic language, harassment.

Disclaimer:  I don’t own SEAL Team (TV) or its’ characters.

You can also read this fic in its’ entirety on A03.

*****

Getting through the rest of the week had been difficult.  He had to report the incident to both Blackburn, who was incredibly supportive, and Lindell, who wasn't impressed.  Clay was having trouble determining if Lindell was angry at him for making an official report or angry at the perpetrators.  Either way, he came out of that discussion feeling nervous at the possible outcomes of the investigation.

Bravo had been quietly supportive.  No one mentioned the incident again and the team had been able to scrub the slurs off the walls, leaving no trace of the hateful messages.  Clay was certain that they were looking into the matter on their own as well.

Clay still wasn't sure about how Trent felt about the whole incident.  He hadn't been able to spend much time with his boyfriend this week because Trent was still checking in on Ray frequently at the hospital.  But today was Friday, which meant no work the next day and it was their normal date night.

Knocking on Trent's door, Clay let himself in with his key.  Dropping his overnight bag at the front door, Clay slid into the apartment.  "Trent, you home?" Clay asked, not hearing any noises from the living room.

"Yup, just in the kitchen!" Trent shouted back.  

Clay shuffled into the kitchen, entertained at the sight of Trent attempting to bake something.  There was flour everywhere, all over the counter, on the floor, even up on some of the cupboards.  It looked like a bomb had gone off.  Stifling a laugh, Clay reached over and wiped flour from Trent's nose.  "What's going on here?" Clay asked, trying to guess at what his boyfriend was making.

The timer made a loud ding, and Trent hustled over to the oven, pulled out a tray of double chocolate cookies.  They smelt delicious.  Trent smacked Clay's hand away when he tried to sneak a cookie.  "My mom said you always have to wait a couple minutes for them to finish baking on the sheet before eating," Trent lectured, remembering the many times he attempted to sneak a cookie as well.

"Oh, are these one of your mom's recipes?" Clay asked eagerly.  He had finally met Trent's mom a little while ago and her baking was amazing.  He had left her house feeling like he had put on five pounds from cookies alone.

Trent nodded.  He had remembered that these were Clay's favourite and had bugged his mom to send over the recipe.  

"Oh my god, these are just as delicious as your mom's," Clay said with a moan after managing to sneak one and stuff it into his mouth before Trent could say anything.

Clay sat down to watch Trent finish scooping the last bit of the dough and putting it into the oven.  "So, I was thinking," Clay said, waiting until he had Trent's full attention.  "Would you be okay doing something a little more gay friendly tonight?  I'd just really like to go somewhere where we can act like a couple and not be judged."  He really appreciated the support that Bravo was giving him, but at the same time, with no one actually questioning or discussing his sexuality, he was unsure how far their support went.  

Trent took off his apron and sat down next to Clay.  "Sure, as long as we watch the next Star Wars movie on our next date."  Trent was a huge Star Wars fan and was slowly showing Clay all the movies, in the correct order.  

"Deal," Clay agreed.  It was adorable how excited Trent got with his Star Wars movies.  "Now I know that you aren't a huge fan of dancing, but I was wondering if I could talk you into going to that new gay club that recently opened?" Clay asked, waiting to see what Trent would say.  He just wanted to drink, dance, and make out with his partner, in that order.  

"Only if you help me find something to wear," Trent said, unsure if he had anything appropriate to wear to a club. He wasn't a club going guy and he always felt too old for most places that his previous dates wanted to go to.

Clay nodded, confident that he would find something to work.  Honestly, he thought Trent looked sexy in pretty much anything, but he was slightly biased.

XXXXX

The thump thump of the heavy bass pounding through the room had Trent wincing as they stepped into the club.  Some trendy, top 40 song was playing that Trent had no hope in hell of identifying. Bright, rainbow coloured lights shone everywhere, and there was a sea of bodies, gyrating on the dance floor. He was definitely feeling his age.  But when Clay turned around and shot him a grin, he couldn't help but smile back.  If this helped his boyfriend relax and have fun after his cage was vandalized earlier, then Trent was more than willing to participate.

"Drinks?" Clay asked, tilting his head in the direction of the bar.  At Trent's nod, he started over, not letting go of Trent's hand.  Trent figured he would definitely need some liquid courage to help him out on the dance floor.

Trent wasn't even sure what Clay ordered, but it was fruity and delicious.  Leaning over, he asked Clay what it was called.  "Sex on the beach," Clay responded with a grin.  "So excellent as a drink, not so much in practice, right?" Trent replied back, flirting back freely.

"Yeah, that sums it up," Clay said, cringing at the memory of their sex on the beach attempt.  He was finding grains of sand in awkward spots for days.  "Let's go dance!" Clay exclaimed, grabbing Trent's hand and pulling him out on the dance floor.

Trent pulled Clay close, letting his hands rest low on his boyfriend's hips.  There was barely any space between them as they grinded together on the dance floor.  "Maybe this dancing thing is alright," Trent said into Clay's ear, enjoying the closeness of Clay’s body. 

Clay answered by throwing his hands around Trent's neck and giving him a passionate kiss.  Trent could feel heat rise through his body in response.  Pulling Clay in even tighter, Trent took control of the kiss, letting his hands trail down to grip Clay's ass.  Yes, Clay's idea to go to the club was an excellent date idea.

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Four

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

The Underrated Joys of Escapism

Conversation had flowed more easily after that. The girls informed her of the lack of feminine products at the general store in the nearby town of Rhodes and she learned that she should indeed stay on Miss Grimshaw’s good side. In fact, they delighted in filling her in on exactly what everyone was like in the camp.

“... Do not give Bill a compliment, he’ll think you’re in love with him...”

“... Make Charles laugh and I’ll give you fifty dollars, I swear...”

“... You’ll probably be woken up every mornin’ by Abigail yellin’ at John, who probably deserves it...”

“... Oh, Lenny’s just so sweet, I just don’t quite know what I want to do with him—” 

“Karen...”

“... Arthur’s a little gruff, but a sweetheart, really.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a real sweetheart,” Mary-Beth enthused, her smile widening. “I mean, he rescued you, didn’t he? That’s how sweet he is.”

“Yes, that was very kind of him,” Ada agreed, keeping her smile easy.

Please don’t ask me, please don’t—

“So, how’d he do it, what happened?”

Oh, Christ.

She’d hoped the personal questions would have waited at least another day or so, but, with her wide smile and big eyes, Mary-Beth was obviously sweet on Arthur, and eager to hear of his heroic deeds, a fact further proven by Karen and Tilly sharing a glance, their lips twitching.

Noted.

“Uh, he found me in a cabin. I’d escaped from my home and hidden in there. We were then pinned down by gunfire but he threw dynamite out of the window to give us a chance to escape.”

“I love a man who just happens to carry ‘round dynamite,” Karen drawled.

“Oh, is that so, darlin’?”

Ada’s head whipped up at the Irish accent, her back stiffening.

A man with shoulder-length ginger hair grinned at them, his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I guess I better start carryin’ ‘round some dynamite in me pocket. Though, that could be dangerous.”

“What would it blow off, exactly,” Karen retorted as she lifted a bottle of whisky to her lips, an eyebrow arched.

“Your favourite past-time, darlin’.”

The man laughed as she rolled her eyes and winked at her before his blue eyes settled on Ada’s own.

“Hello, we haven’t been introduced.”

“Sean, this is Annie Sawyer. Arthur rescued her from Strawberry,” Mary-Beth beamed.

“Is that right? The grumpy bastard does have a heart, then,” Sean chuckled, holding his hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

“You, too,” Ada smiled warmly as she accepted his hand, though her heart pounded in her chest.

What in the hell is an Irish man doing here? A former O’Driscoll? Oh, calm down, not every Irish man is an O’Driscoll.

With a flourish, Sean took her hand in a gentle grip and bent at the waist, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Jesus...” Karen muttered beside her as Ada made her smile widen a little more. “Trust me, darlin’, he’s no gentleman.”

“Oh, love, I’ll be a gentleman if you want me t’ be.” Releasing Ada’s hand, his eyes had already darted to Karen. “You know I can be.”

“Mmh, I’m sure I don’t.” Karen pressed her lips together.

“We’ll see, won’t we.” Winking at her again, his attention then returned to Ada, her eyes still fixed on him. “Welcome to the camp, darlin’. Let us know if you need anythin’. And may I say, what lovely fire-y hair you have, almost as lovely as mine.”

“Oh, thank you.” She involuntarily tucked a few curls behind her ear, her stomach twisting slightly.

“Well, ladies, I shall leave ye to ye’re evenin’.” 

Bowing low, the girls snorted as he backed away before straightening and turning on his heel, whistling a tune to himself.

“Well, that’s Sean,” Karen muttered, shaking her head as she took a sip of whisky. “The bane of my life.”

“Ain’t they perfect for each other,” Tilly stage-whispered to Ada, making Karen shoot a glare at her as Mary-Beth broke into laughter again.

Twenty four hours earlier, she’d been in the same position. With a couple of changes.

Lying on her back on a blanket instead of a bed, she was staring at cloth instead of a canopy.

What had remained the same, though, was that she was unable to sleep.

Rather relieved at feeling tired, she had excused herself shortly after Sean had introduced himself and found Miss Grimshaw by the girl’s wagon to politely ask her where she may be able to sleep. The older woman had gestured behind her, whereupon Ada realised she would be sharing a patch of barely covered ground with some of the other girls.

She’d done as directed, lying on her side beside Tilly who was also settling down. Karen and Mary-Beth had lain on the blanket shortly after, and they’d both soon fallen asleep.

Ada hadn’t even closed her eyes. The day had seemed endless, as if fate had been forcing her to stay locked forever in the worst day of her life. She should have fallen asleep instantaneously, gratefully fallen into an unconscious slumber from grief and exhaustion. The sounds of trees and insects and people were all too unsettling, though, too unfamiliar. The camp was quiet, a few members of the group having a murmured conversation a little way off around the fire they’d eaten at. She didn’t know who the voices belonged to, not having been introduced to anyone else.

Her mind wouldn’t quieten, either. It kept chanting at her to make a plan, but how could she when she had no control or choice?

It needled at her, making her spine prickle so she’d have to turn every few minutes. She might have dozed here and there, but it was very light, bodies and blood filling her mind, every sound making her eyes snap open, and when the sun had started to rise she’d given up completely and found herself once more sat on the fallen tree, staring out at the lake.

Maybe at noon I’ll collapse and finally get some rest. That would be nice.

“You okay?”

Good God, there are people everywhere.

Looking up, a woman she hadn’t seen before approached from down the bank, a tin cup in her hand. Her blonde hair, darker than Karen’s, was braided and twisted over her shoulder, and she had a bright mustard blouse on, tucked into brown trousers.

Ada smiled instantly, inhaling a long breath as she straightened her back. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

The woman hummed as she sipped from the cup, and took a seat beside Ada.

“I’m Sadie.”

“Annie.”

Sadie nodded, holding the cup between both hands. “I’m sure people have been offering their condolences, and I would but... Well, I know it don’t help that much.”

Sadie gave a faint smile as Ada looked at her, not having caught her surprise in time for it not to show.

 “I lost my husband recently. The O’Driscolls killed him. These guys rescued me, too. I was a mess. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. Didn’t feel much like livin’ for a little while, actually, but... you just have to keep goin’, don’t you. Find somethin’ worth livin’ for.”

A corner of Ada’s mouth lifted. “I guess that’s why I’ve not been able to sleep.”

“You just need time. You’ll figure it out.” Sadie gently nudged her with her elbow. “You seem to be doing okay though, it’s good that you’re talkin’ to people, I saw you chattin’ with the girls.”

She smiled lightly. “Well, it’s a nice distraction.”

“Yeah, I can understand that. You’ll be fine, though. From what Arthur said, it sounds like you can really handle yourself with a gun.”

Ada exhaled a laugh as her eyebrows rose. “Well, I’m no Black Belle but, yeah, I’m not too bad.”

Sadie chuckled, a husky, rich sound, and arched an eyebrow. “Maybe we can do some shootin’ together sometime. Show these boys how it’s done.”

“I’d like that.” 

And Ada found that she meant it. The other women were lovely and kind to her, of course, but it was a welcome relief to be able to talk candidly with someone who understood.

“All right, then, I look forward to it.” Sadie tapped a nail against her cup and stood, rolling her shoulders back. “Hey, maybe we can do some practise shootin’ on some O’Driscolls.”

 Ada watched her head up towards the camp, and the manners her mother had tried to drum into her made her feel a twinge of guilt at not offering her condolences about Sadie’s husband but, as the other woman had said, how would it help? No, it was enough that they understood one another.

Shared trauma was a strangely comforting occurrence.

Sadie passed Miss Grimshaw and they nodded at each other, that tight, sugar sweet smile on Susan’s lips. 

“Mornin’, Mrs Adler.”

“Good morning, Susan.” Sadie’s overly bright tone made Ada’s lips twitch; she was very much warming to her.

She swiftly softened her expression, however, when Miss Grimshaw caught sight of her, her smile widening as she approached.

“There you are. Oh, honey, you look beat!”

Wonderful. Thank you, Susan.

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

Ada stood, unsure as to whether the older woman’s concern was genuine or she was worried about her new worker already being down for the count, and shrugged lightly.

“Oh, yes, I got a couple of hours. It’s just, I’m getting used to it, I suppose, being here.”

Susan gave what she probably thought was a sympathetic expression. “Yes, new places can be a little unsettlin’ at first. But we move a lot so you’ll have to get used to it.”

Ada’s chest tightened. Of course they’d have to move a lot, they were on the run from the law, she knew that, but there it was, the suppressed panic that she had no choice, that the routine would change before she could adapt.

“Oh, I’m sure I will. I’m sure I’ll sleep well tonight, too.”

“Mhm. Well, follow me, honey,” Susan gestured for her to follow with her hand, “We got piles of washin’ to do to keep you occupied in the meantime. And I found you some boots!”

Wonderful.

Days passed without incident, and Ada settled in, much to her relief, more easily than she had anticipated, swiftly establishing a routine. She would wake early, talk with Sadie or Abigail over breakfast as they were usually awake at sunrise, too, then carry out whatever tasks Miss Grimshaw deemed important for that day. She heard snatches of information, or Karen just told her outright; currently there was something going on in the local town with two large families that despised each other. 

“We’re playin’ ‘em both like a fiddle,” Karen had grinned.

Her intuition to not tell them her real name was correct, then.

She kept mainly to talking to the group of women, the men seemingly either always out on ‘business’ as they called it or sat around the camp halfheartedly carrying out various tasks, but she was gradually introduced to everyone.

Ada swiftly discovered Sean had never had any association with the O’Driscolls; there was completely and utterly no way he could have. Colm would never allow a man who talked as much as he did to be in the gang. He made her laugh, though, and gifted her, with enough flourish to make Karen sigh wearily, a small knife which she kept tucked into her belt. She apologised to Lenny the second evening she had been there and thanked him for being so generous. He’d shaken his head dismissively with a warm smile and said not to worry about it. She’d warmed to him completely as they’d eaten their stew, talking about inane things like the weather or what bread they liked best.

Charles, John, Bill, Pearson, Strauss and Javier had greeted her quietly and kept to themselves, the Reverend Swanson had stumbled past her the next morning, and Uncle had sat next to her at her third dinner and started singing loudly, to which everyone joined in. Hosea had talked with her that same evening, offering his condolences and asking her non-invasive questions about herself that she answered truthfully. After discovering she enjoyed reading and she missed her books, they had discussed their favourite novels, and then the next morning he gave her a book, a gesture so touching from the old con man that she had nearly wanted to embrace him.

As for Dutch and Arthur, she hadn’t spoken to either of them since they’d talked in Dutch’s tent and that suited her fine. Dutch kept to his tent, reading or talking with the men, and Arthur left early every morning and returned in the late evening.

She was, surprisingly yet mercifully, finding that she liked this band of outlaws and, with their seeming acceptance, felt she could breathe a little easier now. 

It took Micah, the man who’d watched her as he’d leaned against the tree, to bring her back to reality.

It was the morning of her fifth day of being in the camp and she was repairing an old blouse Susan had given her to have. She was using strips of material she’d found and was trying to do her best with what was turning into quite an unusual assortment of colours and patterns, needing a new blouse to wear as dust and sweat was starting to make wearing her current one unpleasant.

This damn heat. I miss rain.

A shadow suddenly fell across her.

Blinking, Ada glanced up.

“Hello, Mr Bell.”

He smiled at her, in that vaguely unnerving way, his eyes fixed on her, and nodded.

“Good morning, Miss Sawyer. What are you up to?”

“Oh, I’m just fixing a blouse. I’m in need of a new one.” She smiled politely as he sat beside her, suppressing her lack of delight.

He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning into her space to inspect her stitching. Her jaw moved slightly as she sat back to create some distance and he huffed out a laugh of amazement as he too sat back.

“That’s fine work, Miss Sawyer, you can barely notice the stitches. You’ve got a talent for it.”

“Thank you, Mr Bell.”

His smile, having lingered, widened now as he tilted his head “Please, call me Micah.”

Her polite smile lingered too, restrained. “All right, then.”

“I hope you’ll accept my apologies for not having talked with you sooner. I didn’t want to intrude upon you at such a difficult time.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Micah.”

Now please leave.

He fell silent, just looking at her, and she resented herself for doing so but she couldn’t stop her smile from widening as she searched for something to say. Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask him about his day, his hand went to her knee, and squeezed it so lightly.

“If you need anything, Miss Sawyer, anything at all, you can come and ask me.”

She stiffened, her mind going blank for a moment or two. She could feel the heaviness of his touch on her, of his eyes on her, and she couldn’t think what to do.

There was no doubt in what he was implying.

“Take your hand off me, Micah.”

Something flashed behind his eyes at her calm, low words. She held his gaze, her body still.

Then, he laughed, dropping his hand from her as he leaned back.

“Miss Sawyer, you are a surprise, ain’t you. Not quite the pretty little meek flower I was hoping for. That’s a shame.” He smiled. “More... entertainin’, though.”

He stood then, much to her masked relief, but just as she thought he was going to turn away, he looked to her again, his tongue running along his teeth.

“You know, Arthur and I were in your pretty little town not too long ago. Gave you all quite the show. I’m very grateful you didn’t get in the middle of it.”

He then nodded at her, and walked away, whistling to himself. She stared at his back, her lips parting as a held breath rushed out of her. She felt cold sweat sliding down her back, her hands frozen.

A man had been broken out of jail only a few weeks ago by another man and they shot all who’d been in their path. Skinny and Maddy had been killed in their cabin. She used to talk with them in the store and used to help Maddy braid her hair. Maddy got excited about the spring and liked to watch out for flowers every day, she was going—

“Good mornin’, sweetheart.”

She snapped back to attention, her eyes darting up to watch Sean walk towards her, that wide, lopsided grin on his face.

It fell slightly at her expression.

“You all righ’, darlin’?”

She nodded swiftly as she dropped the blouse to the floor, wiping her damp hands on her skirt. “Yes, sorry, you just startled me.”

“Uh-huh.” He eyed her, his gaze darting over to Micah who was seating himself at a table a little way off, unsheathing a knife from his belt. “You were talkin’ wi’ Micah just now, weren’t ye?”

“Yes, he was just introducing himself.” Clearing her throat, she smiled. “What business are you getting up to today?”

Ignoring her deviation, he sat beside her, an unusually serious expression taking over his features.

“You know,” he started, lowering his voice. “If he gives you any kind o’ trouble you let me know, all righ’?”

She arched an eyebrow, her smile widening as she ignored the faint tightening in her chest. “You? And what will you be able to do about it, Sean MacGuire?”

He laughed, the easy demeanour returning. “Oh, sweetheart, there’s a reason there’s a bounty on me head.”

“Didn’t you just happen to be there as the gang robbed places?”

“Oh, you wound me, ye really do. Here I was about to invite ye on a day out.” He shook his head mock-sadly as she perked up, her mouth opening a little wider.

“A day out?”

“Aye.” He side-eyed her, sighing faux-dejectedly. “I thought ye might like to come into town wi’ me, be reminded there’s an actual world out there.”

She almost laughed at the excitement that roused within her. Yes, she felt safe and confident with her routine, but... Lord, she was growing restless. There was only so far she could wander in this camp and this invitation felt like a strange sort of permission that she did indeed have some freedom. And freedom overrode any sort of need for security.

Why, though?

Her eyes then narrowed slightly as some of the excitement ebbed away.

“... What’s the catch?”

He held his hands up, his eyebrows raising. “No catch, darlin’. Just don’t want ya goin’ crazy... ‘nd maybe ye could get a new shirt instead of... whatever the hell that is you’re makin’.”

She pressed her lips together as she weighed the pros and cons, thought about everything that could go wrong, thought about if she could take Sean in a fight, if it came to it...

No, everything was surface level with Sean. This had to be genuine and thank God for it.

“I would be delighted to join you, Sean.”

He grinned, practically nearly jumping to his feet as he held a hand out to her. Undeterred as she batted his hand aside and stood unaided, he began to stride towards the scout camp up on a small hill to the north of the main camp. Following after him, she kept her gaze straight ahead as they passed Micah, though he was too focused in his game of five finger fillet to notice them.

Striding up the hill, he gestured at the small pack of horses, flinging his arm out.

“Pick yourself a horse.”

Her eyebrows rose as she looked to him. “Any one?”

“Yep. Any one without a saddle.”

She blew out a breath as she looked back to the horses, taking a few steps closer to them. They didn’t lift their heads from their grazing, used to people moving about amongst them. She studied each one in turn, assessing their build and matching them against each and every scenario she could think of in her head.

“Jesus, get a move on will ye or you’ll be sharin’ wi’ me.”

“Oh, Lord...”

Hearing him laugh behind her, Ada’s lips twitched and she moved towards a bay horse at the back of the group, it’s head lifting, hay hanging out of it’s mouth. It watched her, it’s ears twitching as it chewed.

“Hello,” she murmured, reaching a hand out slowly and settling it on it’s neck.

The horse turned it’s head a little closer towards her, sniffing at her. She held her hand out, allowing it to sniff. 

“He’s a real nice one.”

A dark haired man stood on the other side of the horse, smiling somewhat nervously at her as he stroked down the horse’s back. He spoke quickly but earnestly.

“He’s quiet and calm and ain’t too much trouble, I think you’ll like—”

“Jesus Christ, Kieran, what are ye doin’ lurkin’ amongst the horses? You been shaggin’ ‘em again?”

“I don’t shag, sleep,” Kieran corrected himself swiftly, glancing at Ada, “with the horses, Sean, you know I don’t.”

“I don’t know what the hell you do, O’Driscoll, and I don’t dare ask. Toddle off and get her a bloody saddle, would ye.”

O’Driscoll?

Ada stared at Kieran as he muttered under his breath and moved between the horses, her hand frozen on the horse. He seemed to sense her sudden agitation, his ears twitching again as he shifted slightly, his head turning towards her once more.

Sean chuckled behind her as he approached, stroking his fingers down the horse’s forehead as his muzzle nudged against her forearm.

“That’s our camp freak, he...” He trailed off as he glanced at her, noting her tight features. “You all righ’, sweetheart?”

Get a hold of yourself.

“Yeah, fine.” She smiled as she stepped back from the horse as Kieran returned, watching him settle a faded blanket over his back before placing a saddle on it.

Sean watched her watch him, and she heard him curse under his breath.

“Oh, shit, I wasn’t thinkin’,” he murmured, standing beside her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, he was with the O’Driscolls but he saved Arthur’s life and is with us now. We give him a hard time but he’s fine.”

She just nodded, watching as Kieran tightened the straps and adjusted the stirrups. Then, she turned to Sean and smiled widely.

“Shall we get out of here?”

He grinned, tugging on a curl of her hair as he passed her. “Aye, let’s get away from these degenerates.”

After securing a bridle to the head of the horse, Kieran handed the reins to her with the same nervous smile.

“Thank you,” she said automatically, meeting his gaze for a moment, before she turned away, murmuring gently to the horse, “Come on.”

Leading him away from the group, Ada followed after Sean, very much ready to be distracted.

“What’re ye gonna call him?” he asked as he mounted his buckskin horse, gathering the reins into his hands.

“I don’t know.” Also mounting, Ada patted the horse’s neck, allowing him a moment or two to get used to the weight of her. “I don’t know his character yet.”

“Well, we’ll see what he’s like in the kind of trouble we get up to.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I’m not looking for trouble today, Sean.”

He grinned as he urged his horse into a walk, Ada doing the same. “All righ’, all righ’, just some light tomfoolery, then. Who should we be?”

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t like to use our real names often in places for obvious reasons, so who shall we be?” He nodded at Lenny, the scout for the east entrance to the camp, as they passed him, who frowned slightly and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Sean continued, raising his voice a little as he pressed his horse into a trot. “I say we could pass as brother and sister, twins even, with our gorgeous red hair ‘nd blue eyes.”

Ada laughed as her horse drew level with his, her brows raising. “You’ll have to copy my accent, then.”

Sean mock-gasped in horror. “How dare you suggest such a thing. We’re plainly Irish. Let’s hear you do the accent.”

“Sean.”

“Come on.”

“Sean—”

“Either that or you’re a mute and have to let me say what I like—”

“Oh, fer fuck’s sake, that’s the last thing we need.”

He threw his head back with a laugh as they emerged from the trees and turned onto a larger path. “Jesus Christ, a brilliant accent and a curse, are ye tryin’ to make me fall in love wi’ ye woman?”

“That would be incest, dear brother,” she grinned, maintaining the accent.

“Aye, but I think they like that down here.”

She laughed as he urged his horse into a canter, prompting her to do the same.

“How’d ye get so good at the accent anyway?”

She snorted. “Oh, you’ll just laugh.”

“Oh, now you have to tell me.”

Ada slid her gaze over to him, trying not to smile as he grinned.

“I used to practice accents I heard as a child, to entertain myself.”

Sean laughed, thoroughly delighted. “Ye didn’t have many friends, did ye.”

“What gave it away?”

It was only a short ride to the town of Rhodes and Sean talked the whole way, informing her of what little there was to do in the town, but she revelled in every moment. She felt she could breathe a little easier away from the eyes of the camp, and passing workers in a field, seeing other people, made the world feel wide and full of possibilities once more. Perhaps she could leave at some point. Perhaps she could think of a plan sometime soon. Perhaps. It was a short ride of freedom but she grasped it with both hands.

They slowed their horses as they passed a sign that read ‘Welcome to Rhodes’, and Sean led them towards a hitching post infront of the general store. Sliding down from the saddle, Ada pulled the reins over her horses’s head and tied them securely to the post before she surveyed the main street. It wasn’t long but there was the usual necessities, the general store, the Sheriff’s Office and jail, the gunsmith, an undertaker’s and a bank. People bustled about, carrying packages or buckets, wagons and horses came up and down the street and people sat and talked on porches, their voices carrying.

“Right.”

Sean’s cheerful voice pulled her from her observations and she turned to him, finding him also observing the street, a certain glint in his eye.

“Why don’ you go into the store and get yerself somethin’.”

Ada arched an eyebrow as she stroked her horses’s neck. “I don’t have any money, Sean, and I don’t fancy lookin’ at things I can’t afford.”

Shaking his head, Sean shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, holding them out to her.

“Here, get yerself somethin’ nice.”

Staring down at his hand like he was pointing a gun to her, Ada noted they were all dollar coins. 

“Sean, I can’t accept that.”

He tutted and pushed his hand closer towards her. “Ah, shut up and buy yerself somethin’ pretty.” When she didn’t move, still staring, he tutted again and took her hand with his other one, carefully dropping the coins into her palm and making her fingers close over them. “I’ve got some business to attend to, when you’re done just sit out here, I won’t be long.” He started to turn away then paused, looking back at her and lowering his voice. “Oh, and steal somethin’.”

That pulled her out of her daze.

“Excuse me?”

He smiled, holding his hands out slightly. “Ye with thieves now, darlin’. Ye’ve got to fit in.”

She placed her free hand on her hip, arching an eyebrow. “I’m not going to steal something, Sean.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she scoffed. “Because it’s not right.”

“And?”

Oh, dear Lord.

“And the shopkeeper needs to make a living.”

He laughed. Actually laughed at her. “It’s nothin’ personal, Annie. We’ve all gotta make our way in this world.”

Christ...

She’d heard that before.

He took her long, exhaled breath as a, resigned, agreement, and patted her arm. “Good. Now, don’t forget, you’re as Irish as good whisky, dear sister. Enjoy!”

She watched him stride away in the direction of the gunsmith and exhaled another breath. The weight of the coins in her hand made her look down at it again and she uncurled her fingers a little to count the coins.

Twenty dollars. Twenty.

“Jesus...” she breathed, suddenly very much aware she was just holding twenty dollars in her hand. Turning to her horse, she rooted around in the saddlebag with her free hand, hoping to find something to hold the coins in. Feeling cloth brush against her fingers, she pulled out a bandanna and clumsily fashioned a make-shift purse, carefully pouring the coins into it and tying all the corners together.

Glancing around the street, Ada then made her way up the steps and into the store. A bell tinkled as she pushed the door open, prompting the shopkeeper to lift his head, his gaze sweeping over her. After assessing her, he smiled warmly, straightening his back.

“Good afternoon, miss.”

“Good afternoon, sir,” she answered, returning his smile as she approached the counter, her accent perfect.

“Is there anythin’ in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yes, I was wonderin’ if you had any blouses?”

“We got plenty of men’s blouses, miss, but no women’s, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” she waved her hand dismissively, widening her smile. “Anythin’ will do fer me, I’m not picky.”

“Just over in that corner there, then, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

Moving to the shelves he’d indicated, she smiled to herself as she slid her fingers over a shirt, feeling the material.

If Mama could see me now.

─

Ada watched the people and horses passing by, her hands folded on her lap, covering her coin purse, her thumb idly pushing her ring around her finger, a parcel at her side. A light breeze blew and she inhaled a long breath. She kept her mind clear, just focusing on what was around her.

It was so wonderful, to be so calm. To be so free.

She could be anyone she wanted right now, an Irish woman waiting for her brother, a nameless woman enjoying the afternoon, a person waiting for their friend or lover. She understood Sean’s joy for it now. It was intoxicating to present whatever version of yourself you wanted to to the world, to have no expectations placed upon you.

“My darlin’ sister!”

Realising she’d closed her eyes, Ada opened them to find Sean beside his horse, beaming at her.

“Come on, Ma will be expectin’ us home.”

One corner of her mouth lifting higher than the other, she gathered the coin purse and parcel into her hands and moved down the steps to her horse. Lifting the flap of the saddlebag, she placed the coins inside along with the parcel and secured it tightly. Climbing up into the saddle, Sean already atop his horse, they turned their horses onto the road, heading out of the town.

“So, what’d ye steal?”

Her eyes widening at his jovial tone, she glanced over her shoulder. “Keep your voice down, you...”

“Curse at me again, go on.”

“No.”

“Fine. What did you get?”

Tossing her curls over her shoulder, she gestured at her saddlebag. “I bought a new blouse... and stole an apple.”

The widest grin she’d seen on him yet spread across his features as his head whipped to the side to look at her. “You bloody did it?! Ha! That’s my girl! It’s not gold or jewellery but it’s a start, I s’ppose. Where is it?”

She resisted the urge to be pleased with herself, keeping control of her smile. “I didn’t think it would make you this happy. I gave it to Faithful.”

“Who the bloody hell’s Faithful?”

She patted Faithful’s neck, her lips twitching.

“The bloody horse is Faithful? Oh, Jesus...” He shook his head as he sighed. “Right, and why Faithful?”

She, unsuccessfully, tried to hide a grin. “To remind me to be faithful to my morals.”

“Jesus Christ, right, let’s get you back to bloody camp so we can make a real thief of ye.”

Her laugh carried across the fields as they kicked their horses into a canter, dust rising in their wake.

As they reentered camp, Ada found she was still smiling. She felt lighter, her situation not so impossible now. It was incredible what less than an hour of normality could do. Well, near normality.

Dismounting at the nearest posts they came to, she pulled the reins over Faithful’s head, loosely wrapping them around the pole.

“Good boy, thank you,” she murmured as he snorted, tossing his head a little.

“You are most welcome.”

“Not you, Sean.”

“I don’t get a little thank you for takin’ ye out on the town?”

A smile pulling at her lips, she turned to him. “Thank you, Sean. I mean it.”

Grinning, he inclined his head. “You’re welcome, darlin’ Annie. Oh, and, hey, I got ye this...”

Reaching into his saddlebag, he pulled out some sort of crumpled emerald green material.

“The colour of our homeland, dear sister.”

Taking it from his offered hand, it unfurled to reveal a blouse.

Beaming, her mouth dropped open as her gaze darted up to him.

“Oh, Sean, it’s beautiful. Where did you get it? I didn’t see a tailor’s.”

He just looked at her, having the good grace to look the barest amount of sheepish.

“You stole it?!”

“Why anyone would leave a pretty thing like that out to dry I’ve no clue.”

“Sean.”

“What, it’s their fault!” He held his hands out innocently, all sheepishness gone as he grinned roguishly.

Exhaling a short breath, she fought hard to not imitate his infectious smile. “There’s no point in telling you to take it back is there?”

“Absolutely no point at all.”

“Lord...” Still keeping a grip on the blouse, Ada shook her head and reached into her saddlebag, retrieving the coin purse and parcel. “Fine, I’ll keep it.”

“There’s hope! We’ll make a proper thief of ye yet, sweetheart, you just wait.” He nudged his shoulder against hers as they moved around the horses.

“I didn’t steal it.”

“Whatever makes you sleep tonight, darlin’.”

“Well, here, this will.” She held the bandanna-wrapped coins out to him.

Sean made a dismissive sound as his brow furrowed. “Ah, no, Annie, you keep it. A little ‘welcome to camp’ gift from me.”

“The blouse can be that gift. And this certainly isn’t little.” She pushed it further towards him.

“Nah, that was a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as they came to a stop before the path. “Well, then, how about you look after it for me.”

Raising his eyebrows, he looked down at the purse, then back up at her. 

“I think I can do that,” he smiled, his fingers closing around the material, and in a flash he had it in his pocket.

“Yes, I thought you might...”

Ada trailed off as the sound of hooves suddenly thundered down from the north path. Both of them taking an automatic step back, they watched as Charles and Arthur stormed into camp, pulling their horses into an abrupt halt that had them skidding in the dirt slightly.

“Miss Grimshaw, Mr Pearson, your assistance, please!” Arthur called as he swiftly dismounted before striding around his horse to Charles’s.

Ada then saw the man sat behind Charles, his head lolling to one side. Arthur helped him down as Charles supported him from his position, gripping his shoulder, and as his head rolled back she saw the bruises and blood that covered him.

“One of yours?” she murmured to Sean, continuing to watch as Miss Grimshaw and Charles took over, helping the stranger over to the table nearby.

“Aye, one of ours,” he answered, sliding his hands into his pockets. “A rather interestin’ fellow.”

“I'm learning that’s not a compliment in this camp.”

Sean laughed as her lips twitched before he quickly shushed himself as Arthur looked over to them, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Quiet now, lass, we’re about to be bored to death,” Sean whispered to her as Arthur approached.

“So, Lenny told me you two went out of camp.”

Ada couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of betrayal from the young man she’d started to rather warm to. Surely it wasn’t that bad, was it—

“Aye, I took the lovely lady out into town to—”

“You went into Rhodes?”

His abruptness seemed to catch Sean off guard, but he swiftly recovered.

“Aye, it’s not good for anyone to be cooped up in this mad place fer too long—”

“Do I have to remind you, MacGuire,” Arthur cut him off again as he stepped closer, prompting the other man to rise to his full height, “We’re wanted men involved in two mad as hell families. We got bounty hunters lookin’ for us up and down the God damn country who ain’t afraid to take us dead or alive. We can’t afford to just go dancin’ into town like God damn idiots.”

“All righ’, Morgan, it was jus’ a bit of fun—”

“Yeah, well, people have died over ‘a bit of fun’, haven’t they?”

Sean’s mouth opened then closed as he stared at him. Ada glanced between them, but before she could speak Sean exhaled a harsh laugh and turned on his heel, striding away. Pressing her lips together, she turned on Arthur, lifting her chin to look at him.

“I don’t know what you were referring to but I gather that was incredibly unfair of you.”

“Excuse me?” He gazed down at her with more of an air of exasperation than incredulity at her challenging him and that just incensed her more.

“He was just being kind, Mr Morgan, I needed new clothing and a breath—”

“You need anythin’ like that you speak to Miss Grimshaw.” He was already looking away from her, dismissing her as his eyes searched the camp.

Pressing her lips together, she adjusted her stance, standing directly in front of him and forcing him to look at her once more. “I don’t want to take any more charity—”

“It ain’t about that.” Now his full attention was on her as he wrestled to keep his voice low. “I don’t think you quite realise the danger we’re in—”

“If there is any danger I can handle myself and you know that—”

“As far as I know you can hold a gun and point it without shakin’. Beyond that I don’t know what you can do.”

His words stung but she clenched her jaw, begrudgingly accepting he was right, and that wouldn’t do.

"Perhaps I just need the opportunity.”

He arched an eyebrow as he exhaled a humourless laugh. “Is that what you want is it? An opportunity? Oh, what, you want to go out there seekin’ danger now? Think you’re invincible now you’re runnin’ with outlaws?”

God, she wanted to wipe that patronising look off his face.

“Need I remind you it was you who brought me here, Mr Morgan.” 

“Yeah, but I might need remindin’ of the reason why.”

That stung, too.

“Some horseshit about saving people who need saving, and you obviously thought I could handle myself here.”

She didn’t know whether it was her coarse language that stunned him into silence, the truth of her words or he was just holding his tongue but he didn’t answer her, his jaw moving. She didn’t look away as they stared at one another, neither wanting to back down.

He’s not agreeing.

Don’t do it─

“Give me your gun.”

“Excuse me?” Now he looked incredulous as he glanced down at her extended hand.

Arching an eyebrow, she raised her chin. “It appears I’m going to have to prove myself, Mr Morgan, to ease your apparent distress at my safety.”

Now that certainly stunned him.

“No, I ain’t givin’ you my gun.”

“Fine.” Looking to the side, she moved her hand in the same direction. “Lenny?”

Lenny, having been sat reading under a tree nearby and trying very hard to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping, raised his eyebrows in slight alarm.

“Yes, Miss Sawyer?”

“May I borrow your gun, please?”

“Uh...” He glanced at Arthur, though only briefly, as he stood, closing his book. His curiosity won out. “Sure.”

Stepping closer, he pulled his gun from its holster and held it out to her, the corners of his mouth lifting. “You’re not gonna kill anyone, are you, Annie?”

“I hope not.” Taking the gun, she lowered her arm and offered him the parcel and blouse, which he took swiftly, before she turned, glancing at Arthur as she strode away.

Lenny followed quickly behind her, not overly fond of the idea of being left with Arthur to be chastised. The older man exhaled a long breath as he watched them for a moment, before he, too, slowly followed after the woman.

Ada moved behind Arthur’s wagon and down to the bank, gripping the revolver in her hand and familiarising herself with the feel of it. It was a standard Cattleman with a black steel frame and an ebony grip.

Perfect.

Four empty bottles lay strewn across the sand, most likely from Reverend Swanson, and she came to a halt, wetting her lips.

“Lenny, please can you set those bottles on that rock?”

“Sure thing.”

Lenny apparently hadn’t been the only one listening in on their arguing as she could hear the rest of the camp forming an unsubtle audience a little way behind her, unashamedly gathering to watch as they murmured to each other.

She kept her eyes on Lenny, though, studying the angle at which he placed the bottles.

“All right, Annie, there you go.” He grinned at her as he ran past, joining the group.

Arthur stood towards the back of the audience, a little higher up on the bank, his mouth set in a thin line. He was hesitant to underestimate her due to her confidence, but then again he’d known many a confident person to make a fool of themselves. Would she really embarrass herself that way, though? Especially in front of everybody? Nah, Miss Sawyer didn’t seem that kind of fool. She was headstrong and damn stubborn, but not a fool.

He watched her closely as she stood straighter and raised her arm, drawing the hammer of the revolver back.

“Ten dollars says she does it,” Karen whispered to Tilly, who smiled.

“No deal ‘cause I think she’s gonna do it, too.”

Somewhere behind them, Micah snorted.

Ada exhaled a slow breath as she stared at the bottles, blocking out the sound of the group. Then, she squeezed the trigger.

She moved quickly.

In quick succession, the bottles blew apart one after the other, glass falling onto the sand.

“Holy shit!”

“God damn!”

The group spoke over each other as Ada lowered her arm and allowed herself a small moment of pride, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Someone get this girl a drink!”

Her smile widened as she finally turned to the group, finding most of the men drifting away back to their duties as the women grinned at her. 

“I don’t drink, Uncle.”

“Well, someone get one for me, then!”

Wanting any excuse to open the whisky, the women followed after Uncle, talking over one another. Sadie, who Ada hadn’t noticed before, stood further beyond them, down on the south side of the bank. She smiled proudly and nodded at Ada before turning away and heading along the shore, returning to her post.

“Wow, that was somethin’,” Lenny beamed as he stepped closer, holding his hand out.

“Oh, thank you. And thank you for letting me borrow it.” She returned his infectious smile as they swapped, she giving him the gun, he her blouse and parcel.

He shook his head as he holstered it. “Don’t mention it. I wouldn’t mind seein’ that again.”

She watched him as he wandered away, smiling to himself as Karen could be faintly heard trying to get a rousing song going.

Ada’s smile lingered, too, as she smoothed her skirt down, before she realised that just left... Arthur.

Her smile vanished as she looked to him.

He stood only a few feet away, his arms folded, his features expressionless.

“You enjoy bein’ a child, do you?”

She sighed, her teeth grazing over her lower lip as she raised her eyebrows. “No, I don’t.”

Dropping his arms, he stepped closer, gesturing behind her. “Well, you’ve proven you can hit unmovin’ targets. You ain’t proven you can hit somethin’ that’s shootin’ back at you.”

“No, I just haven’t proven that to you.”

“Well, you obviously wanted to prove somethin’ here.”

“Yes, that I’m skilled with a gun, Arthur, and that if I feel like taking a break from camp and going out for less than an hour then I can handle myself if something comes up. I understand your concern for this camp but I believe this time it was misplaced.”

“Oh, you’ve done more than target practice, have you? You killed, have you?”

“I killed an O’Driscoll back in Strawberry before you found me, I told you that.”

“And what has that done to your conscience?”

That made her pause, and he took full advantage of it, refusing to break their gaze.

“You been thinkin’ about it at all? Sure, he deserved it but it’s a hard thing to take a life. Could you do it again?”

She didn’t respond.

He shook his head. “Well, I hope we don’t get the opportunity to find out, Miss Sawyer. It could be your life that’s taken while you’re decidin’.”

A cold smile settled on her lips “What an unburdening that would be to your conscience, Mr Morgan.” 

He watched her as she walked away, his jaw set firmly.

He should’ve disagreed with that, protested vehemently, but he had the feeling only more angry words would have been exchanged. He knew he’d been hard on them, and, yeah, perhaps unfair to Sean, but the amount of bounty hunters that had taken Trelawney and how close they’d been to the camp had rattled him.

He could admit she was a good shot, could probably handle herself and was maybe as good as Sadie, but that didn’t mean she had to be put in a position to prove it. It wasn’t just her, too, they should all keep their heads down for a while, or, hell, even move on, maybe.

Arthur sighed heavily, pushing the brim of his hat up.

There’s never a quiet day.

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Tagged: @belfry-bat​​, @sistasarah-sallysaidso​

[letsgobethegoodguys]

Merry Christmas!

It's Christmas where I live and my family is celebrating today. I just wanted to take a moment to celebrate all of my lovely friends here (whether you celebrate Christmas today or not!) and wish you all a happy day!! So I'm going to spend some time gushing about each of you darlings here! If I could send each of you a gift, I would. But this will have to do for now. 🎁

Here we go! 💖

@iamadreameroftheday - we're not friends because of Tumblr but you ARE my friend (read: best friend) and you ARE on Tumblr. You mean the entire world to me, Abigail. 🥺 You've encouraged me in literally everything that I've done and you make me smile every single day. I'm grateful to Supernatural for bringing us together. We'll be holding hands again so soon, darling, and I can't wait! 💞 I love you, forever and always.

@kylermalloy - my soulmate!! I'm so glad we found each other, Kyler dear. 💛 You're always so supportive about everything. And it's been so special to be able to talk about both fandom things and real life things with you. I think you can tell a friendship is really special when you lose sleep for each other and we've certainly done that! I cherish our late night and day-to-day conversations. I'm proud of your accomplishments and I'm blown away by your ability to analyze characters and you KNOW your prose is just my favorite. I love you and I'm grateful for you!!

@poughkeepsies - my chILD!! Setareh, you've made me cry with laughter many times. You're genuinely so funny and quick on your feet - it's amazing. Also, you're incredibly kind and thoughtful. You've come to my messages to cheer me up and written beautiful fanfic for my birthday (🥺). You make such stunning edits and fanvids too! I'm proud of you, my creative darling! You're the Loki to my Thor and I love you like crazy.

@aihoshiduo Morgan!!! I'm so glad that I met you! You're incredibly kind and you've given up a lot of your time to talk to me and even make beautiful things for me! (Anyone who hasn't seen the gifsets she made for me should go check them out). I'm still sure we'll hug each other someday - ily! 💕

@danielhowall Taylor. My unicorn-haired angel! I know we don't talk as much anymore but that doesn't even matter because it always feels just the same whenever we do talk. 💜 You're an incredibly generous person and I love your passionate heart. I'm so thrilled that I met you all those months ago. I love you!

@ohsamulet My dearest Chrissie!!! I know you're not as active now but my heart leaps every time I see you posting. Your gifs are breathtaking and you're so fun to talk to. We're definitely kindred spirits, you and I. ✨

@thelegendofwinchester Sweet Naila! You have been so encouraging and lovely since I first met you. You've made me cry with your gorgeous writing and made me smile with your kind comments. You're one of the reasons I felt confident enough to keep sharing my writing once I started. I LOVE YOU 🤗

@spnxbookworm I hope you'll see this, darling Sanjana. You've been a beacon of joy since I first stepped foot in the Supernatural fandom on Tumblr. You've randomly dropped in my inbox just to make me smile. And you're such a gifted writer. Thank you for everything. 🥺

@feathersinthesky Aldana! I know we've only talked a little but I LOVE seeing you in my notifs. You're so sweet and your love for that soft angel named Castiel is just precious. ❤

@wanderingcas Sam!! I know we became friends very recently but your smooth and distinctive writing style is an inspiration to me! And you're just such a wonderful person to talk to. 🥰

@sealionsam Oh my goodness, Lauren!!! Your artistic talent absolutely blows me away. And you're just such a positive and lovely person to talk to?? You've even gone out of your way to cheer me up after reading my tags. I'm grateful to know you!!

@flightoftheseraph one of the most passionate Jack fans I know. 😊 Sawyer, I absolutely love your blog and you seem like such a nice person! I'm glad we're mutuals!

@petrichoravellichor Petra, you've been so sweet and encouraging to me for so long and I'm so grateful! Your beautiful comments on my writing absolutely melt my heart. I love seeing your passion for every character on Supernatural. 💓

@thewindsofwinchester We’re pretty new friends, Penny. But we definitely have some fun loves in common (like the Beatles!) and I hope we get to know each other better! I can’t believe one of our first interactions was you just mocking me under one of my posts asldkhgds

[faithhudson]

Talk that Talk

Tagging: Fae Hudson & Evan Hummel (@evanhummel)

Date: August 5, Evening

Summary: Some much overdo conversation

Fae

When Evan had messaged her, asking to come over in the evening, Fae had accepted without hesitation.  She knew the emotional wringer that she’d put everyone through as she dealt with her withdrawal symptoms, and anyone who actually still wanted to spend time with her was a valuable thing indeed.  And that was leaving aside that they hadn’t actually spoken about what had gone down after their respective dinners in town, and had something worse happened to her Fae didn't want that to go without discussion.  And so having her over was an easy decision. Fae was propped up in her bed with a couple of pillows, just trying to find a comfortable position.  She hadn't spent so long in bed in a good while, and knowing she'd have to get up in the morning and get back to classes did nothing to improve her mood.  Part of her wished she could talk the Infirmary into declaring her unfit for one more day so she could just have the weekend, but they didn't seem like the types to give her a break that way. In one hand she kept a bottle of water, one she'd been drinking from constantly during the day, and in the other Fae had her phone.  Its display was filled with a picture of her father, looking younger and happier than she ever remembered him.  Carole had sent it at her request, but not without a flurry of worried messages back and forth about why she needed it.  When a knock sounded at her door Fae set the phone aside and looked up with a smile.  "Come on in, Ev," she called softly.  "It's open."

Evan

Seeing Faith in the state that she had been in hadn't been an easy thing at all. She had been so very out of it and Evan hadn't even got a moment to be with the other Switch by herself thanks to Sawyer and the appearance of Madeline, who apparently had a very important place in Faith's life. That, in Evan's mind, maybe complicated things that had happened between them even more than she had already thought they were complicated. And seeing Fae in that state had just made her even more worried that she had somehow, in some way, taken advantage of her state. Yes, they had both been drunk, but the consequences of Faith's actions worried Evan that perhaps Fae had been further gone than she'd thought. She'd mentioned Faith so see if she was free after classes for Evan to come over, even just for a little while. She wanted to check in on her and see how she'd been doing since she'd had a little while to rest and recover. Going through classes had been a bit more of a challenge than it had been since she had arrived at the institute and that was saying something; because Evan found the information they were getting to be very interesting and important. Walking into the room once given permission from Faith, she closed the door behind her and offered a slight smile. She was wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and a red tank, with a black cardigan over top. It was a very comfortable outfit that she also thought fit her well which was always a good thing. "Hey, how are you?"

Fae

"Tired of that question," Fae joked, making sure that the smile on her face would take any of the sting out of her words.  "I'm okay," she promised.  "It's going to be a few days before I really feel like me again, but at least I know where I am and I can carry on a conversation that'll actually make sense to both of us.  Speaking of, if any of the texts I sent you yesterday were...well, complete gibberish, I'm sorry.  I thought I was doing really well with them, but after talking to Sawyer I'm pretty sure I was just making random words."  She hated that thought. There was a lot on the table between them, a lot to talk about and a lot to unpack.  It didn't need to be done in a day, but it did need doing.  "I'm sorry," she went with at last.  "I know I must have worried you, all of you.  Moreso than I usually do, even.  But I'm grateful that everyone came by yesterday, even if I don't remember it." "Come, sit," she patted her bed.  "It'll be more comfortable in here, I promise."

Evan

She winced just slightly at Faith's first words, but not as much as she would have without the smile on Faith's face. It was still going to take a lot of getting used to to have that smile be directed at her. She was conditioned to be prepared for harsh words and stinging stares and for that to, recently, not be the case was very different. She nodded her head in understanding when Fae said it would take a few days to get back into the swing of things. It certainly made sense. She bit down on her bottom lip when Fae said the words she was speaking were just gibberish and she nodded slightly, making note to delete the sweet texts. They didn't mean anything if Fae couldn't remember or hadn't meant them at all. She moved forward and claimed a spot on the bed. "You don't have to apologize to me, Fae. I'm just glad that you're okay. As okay as you can be right now, I mean." There was definitely a hesitance and a heaviness between them. There was a lot that needed to be discussed but Evan wasn't sure if she wanted to be the one to start it. Not if she had somehow done something that she needed forgiveness for, but maybe that meant she really should start the conversation. "You did worry us...but that comes with the territory of caring about someone."

Fae

Fae sighed softly.  The tension in the room wasn't something that was used to - at least, she wasn't used to caring about it.  Any room she'd been in had probably been tense, at least as far her family was concerned, but she was generally too angry and too drunk to care much about that.  Now she had to learn how to be a person again, to be better, and it was going to take time.  Setting her water between her legs she reached over to take Evan's hand in her own.  It was familiar, but new - a feeling she suspected would be the same each time it happened. "Being cared about isn't something I'm used to," she admitted.  "But I'll do the best I can not to make this a regular thing, because I don't think even the people who care about me could stand to keep going through it."  She turned her head a little, like a curious animal.  "What's on your mind, Ev?  I think it's a lot like what's on mine, but I'd like to hear it."

Evan

She jumped a little bit when Faith gently grabbed her hand, but she didn't pull away, allowing the touch to comfort her as much as it could in the moment. She breathed out slowly and bit down on her bottom lip, tilting her head to the side. She shook her head slightly when Fae said that she wasn't used to being cared about. "You were always cared about, Fae. You just didn't always make it the easiest." Evan had learned a long time ago that biting words often followed any short of care. When Faith asked her what was on her mind, her eyebrows furrowed and she let out a shaky breath. She had been expecting and yet dreading that question. "Um...I guess I just...fuck." She shook her head again and swallowed against the lump in her throat. "You were really out of it, Fae. And I guess...when we...on Friday...did I take advantage of you? Were you more out of it then than I thought?"

Fae

Fae had to concede that point and she nodded agreement.  "I'm sure you're right about that.  I know I wasn't the kind of person that could take what was being offered.  Especially from your side - there was too much anger there, and I know that it couldn't have been easy for any of you.  That it still can't.  I'm not saying I'm ever going to be easy to deal with, but I hope at least that I'll be less of a pain in the ass going forward.  That seems only fair." Her eyes widened, and she sat up in bed.  "Ev - shit, no.  I drank more than I meant to, but I'm still me - I've got a hell of a tolerance.  I remember every single minute of what we did, from the minute we met back up on campus, and I consented to every single one.  You didn't take advantage, and you didn't take anything I wouldn't have offered.  I don't know what it all means, but I know that I gave you everything you took, and I did it willingly."

Evan

She breathed out slowly when the other said that she had done everything willingly, that she remembered every moment. She lifted her free hand and rubbed her face, letting that assurance wash over her and at least ease the most troubling of the thoughts that had been following Evan since she'd found out that Fae was in withdrawal. She had hardly been able to sleep thinking things over and trying to decide if she had missed anything that should have been a clear sign. She glanced over and bit down on her bottom lip. "So you consented and you gave it willingly...but do you regret what you did?" That was the next burning question that needed to be answered. Evan didn't know what everything meant either, but she didn't regret it.

Fae

Fae hated that Evan had been worrying about that, because she'd never have allowed it to continue if she'd known - what had happened between them wasn't something she necessarily understood, not yet, but it was something that she'd been happy to participate in and had done so with the knowledge of exactly what she was doing.  "I promise, Ev.  At no point did you take advantage of me, in any way at all." Ev's question was a more difficult one, and Fae considered it for a moment before replying.  "No.  Not once.  I worry...that by doing it I might have made even more of a mess between us, but if you gave me the chance to go back and not do it...I wouldn't."

Evan

"Thank you for reassuring me of that. I'm really...really glad to hear it." She nodded at Faith's answer, feeling that it was extremely similar to the way that she was feeling. "I agree." She paused and then elaborated. "It was never something that I would have imagined happening with you. Was never something that even crossed my mind until we were pressed up against each other in the hallway." Evan expressed, still wondering where the urge had come from...wondering even further how it had been returned. "But it fun...and exciting..and I wouldn't change it either. Even if given the chance to go back." Being honest was definitely important in this moment, even if it was difficult. "I guess the big question...is do you want it to happen again? Or do you want it to just be a fond memory?"

Fae

"You're welcome, Ev - I'm sorry it was weighing on you, and I wish I could have eased that burden earlier." Fae nodded agreement, glad that she wasn't the only one who'd felt that way.  "I'd never thought of it either - like not even once.  And then you were pressed against me and you smelled good and I just...realized how gorgeous you were in the dim light."  It was a great relief to her that Evan didn't have regrets.  Fae had done enough damage to the Hummels and the Hudsons both over the years that adding in a regretted sexual encounter would have seemed like a bridge too far. She worried at her lip, wanting to give Evan a serious, considered answer.  "I think...if we can avoid giving this a label for now, or worrying about what it might become, then I'd like it to happen again.  It was fun, and I liked it, and I'm not ready yet to try and figure out what it all means.  Would that be enough for you?"

Evan

"Crazy what dim light can do for a girl." Evan joked, biting down on her bottom lip. When Faith said that she wasn't ready to put a label on it or think about what it could become as they continued, Evan smiled softly. She wasn't ready to do either of those things either. She knew eventually that would have to be a discussion, probably at a time where it was time to decide if they would continue or stop what they were doing. But for now, it was enough for Evan to know that they both wanted it to continue in some capacity. She squeezed Faith's hand and then leaned over to rest her head against her shoulder for a moment. "That's enough for me, Fae." She assured her, pulling back so that she could look into her eyes. "For now, for now we just have fun." Evan said, a smile on her face as she nodded.

Fae

"You ass," Fae smacked her arm gently.  "Here I am trying to be complimentary and you go twisting my words on me." She waited patiently - which was a difficult thing for Fae - as Evan smiled.  She hoped it was a good thing, that they were on the same page and able to continue having fun, at least.  Learning to become more than two step-sisters who'd never gotten along.  Resting her head against Evan's when she leaned over, Fae couldn't help but smile.  "Perfect," she agreed.  "I'm looking forward to having fun with you, Ev.  And finding out whether our sober selves enjoy it as much as we did last time." The future was the future.  They would figure out what they meant to each other, what any of it meant, when the time came.  For now - as Evan had said - they would have fun.  And they would have no regrets.

[angstymarshmallow]

infallible (ethan ramsey x mc)

[a little note: thanks to the anon for getting my inspiration flowing with number 7 from those soulmate au prompts. I kind of played around the idea a little more of them having an emotional link when they touch because I thought it would be too overwhelming to have it as a constant thing even without touching. This kinda became bigger than I anticipated but I’m happy enough with it to post it and I hope this comes close to what you were looking forward to].

[words counted: 2739]

The nights at Edenbrook hospital had been filled to the brim with people lately. Not that Sawyer was complaining. She loved people, and was always thrilled with the knowledge of providing the best support she could – even if it were sometimes as simple as reading their charts or checking up on patients early in the morning.

Still, Sawyer felt the pull of panic and stress coming from all directions. No matter where she was, there seemed to be something that needed doing and not enough time to do it. In fact, she barely had a moment to catch her breath before she pushed herself head first into another task, another responsibility and coffee could only stave away hunger for so long.

The biggest problem had been there wasn’t enough people on staff. The graveyard shift was quiet and the halls consisted of a few residents scrambling like headless chickens instead of dignified doctors to find an attending.

Still, Sawyer kept her spirits up and smiled whenever someone new had ushered her into another thing that needed doing.

Secretly, she hoped it was about time for her to run into him. They weren’t enough of them to go around after all and from the quick skimming of the schedule posted today, she knew he was working double-shifts tonight. But as luck would have it, Dr. Ramsey’s schedule was even worse than hers’ and she barely caught a glimpse of him within last two hours. And if she were in the habit of being honest with herself, the ache in her chest when it came on to him – hadn’t lessened. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse knowing they were in such close proximities with each other.

Perhaps it was better this way.

This way, it was easier to pretend the lines they’ve crossed never happened. This way, she had no reason to hold her breath – no reason for her cheeks to be shine bright red against the paleness of her skin; despite the deep longing in her heart to see him. To touch him.

Something recently had changed between them, and the shift made it harder for her to forget. Harder for her to pretend.

Sawyer forced her eyes closed for a moment, stopping inside one of the less active hallways to breathe. She repeated the motion, in and out. She tried to force herself out of the habit she’d somehow develop in thinking about him while on the job. There was no room for Ethan when she had other people depending on her.

Steeling her composure, Sawyer dipped into another hall with a new determination in her gait only to come face-to-face with the culprit himself. She hadn’t been paying attention to his approach and bumping into him caused the chart she tucked loosely by her side to fumble and clatter to the floor. She blinked.

Her body was still playing catch up with the rest of her brain as she tilted her chin to stare up at him. Her heart begun a thump thump - hammering wildly inside her chest as one of his hands came up reflexively to steady her.

“Careful, rookie.” His voice snapped her out of her daydream.

Cheeks turning crimson, Sawyer dropped her stare meekly to the floor before she scurried forward to try and desperately grab the blasted thing. “Sorry.” She mumbled.

But his touch had stunned her the most. The moment his fingers brushed her forearm, she had felt his stress. As though anything could be louder than her own – his was almost bursting at the seams. And yet, somehow his face managed to remain mostly impassive when she pulled back to stare up at him.

How could he do that? How could he bury even stress under a layer of nothingness?

She would never know.

But he was still standing in front of her, staring intently and she hadn’t an inkling of what to say. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and his eyes followed the motion.

“You need a break.” He said the words a matter-of-factly; indicating there was no room for an argument.

“So, do you.” Her response had been instantaneous, a reflexive gesture from his dismissive snort. Heck, she even sounded tired when she spoke but she discreetly tried to clear her throat. It wasn’t just about her.

A flicker of surprise flashed before just as quickly vanishing from his eyes.

She understood why, truthfully – unlike herself, he didn’t visibly look it.

Ethan had a way of burying everything underneath the surface that rivalled anyone else she had ever met. And the fact that the strain on his face was barely showing as some type of coping mechanism – shouldn’t surprise her anymore. How often had he done that? She couldn’t count on her finger how many times he managed to keep his expressions visibly neutral.  But today of all days she wondered – how long can he keep up this façade?

It was taking every bit of her willpower to keep smiling with patients, to keep the bubbling energy she was known for around her peers. If she smiled too much, maybe they would see the tiny cracks in her armor, but she refused to be broken.

“I’m fine.” His response was just as terse, if not automatic. He seemed to hesitate, lips forming into a perpetual scowl before he uttered a resigned sigh. “I’ve handled worse.”

Of that, she had no doubt. Ethan was still one of the biggest reasons why she wanted to become a doctor, the fact that the starstruck knowledge of working along with him had mostly worn off was something expected overtime. Still, Sawyer kept a frown at the edge of her lips, letting her gaze linger on the sudden crease in his brow. “If I need one, then you need one too.” It was bold. Telling him that of all people. She might have reconsidered if she hadn’t been this tired, nearly swaying on her feet. “Besides, there’s a lot of people who need attention – so if you could just excuse me –” She stepped past him, determined to get back to work until his fingers brushed her wrist.

It was almost as though he was second-guessing himself, but she could feel it the moment they touched again. Some kind of emotional link that allowed her to feel his anxiety, his stress as deeply as if it had been her own.

She swallowed as she turned to face him, his eyes growing wide with an awareness that made her heart flutter.

Did he feel it too?

Then his lips pressed into a firm line, and he was glancing away. “You’ve been on your feet all night. You’re stressed. Tired.” His words were clipped but Sawyer’s heart does a little flip. Some of his gaze lost its cautious edge. There was worry clouding those stormy seas of his. Worry for her. “You need a break.”

His causal touch turned intimate when his thumb begun brushing absently across the inside of her wrist. It wasn’t just that he was tired, he was lonely too. Longing for something –

Then just as abruptly, Ethan dropped his hands. “Don’t be stubborn about this Sawyer.”

Her throat tightened at the way he said her name.  His own tone betrayed him. He spoke with a softness that drew her out of her own thoughts. She was staring up at him again, watching him without really saying anything.

It wasn’t just that he was worried for her, there was pain that came along with it too. As if he was trying to hold himself back.

She squinted at him. Maybe if she looked hard enough, she could see past his façade completely. “I can’t.”

His jaw clenched. “You won’t.” He retorted back.

“You get it, don’t you?” She shifted on her feet, dropping her eyes to the chart that she rested snugly against her chest.

Of course, he got it. It was the same selfless drive that had him spending his off-hours here instead of the comfort of his home. It was the same selfless drive that kept those dark circles underneath his eyes and the smell of faint brandy on his breath. “There’s too many people counting on us for me to take a break. For you to take one.” She lifted her eyes, saw another flicker of surprise when he met her insistent gaze.

Ethan was suddenly tugging her wrist and Sawyer nearly tripped over her own two feet to follow him. “You’re no good to any patient tired.” He blew out an irritated breath, then lowered his tone. “None of us are.”

Abruptly, the link between them had shifted. All of a sudden – all she could sense was his urgency. He was feeling anxious not just about the countless of people waiting on them. It was about them too – just the two of them.

She wanted to ask. God, did she want to really ask. But she bit her lips hard in effort to stop herself. She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t. What did she even expect him to say? Could they move past never happened?  

Was she prepared for the answer?  

Instead, Sawyer kept mouth firmly shut until they were safely tucked away in the lunch room.

Despite the lateness of the hour, they were still a few stragglers around. As her eyes scanned the room, she was oddly surprised and relieved to see most of them with their heads buried in their arms; taking what she assumed to be as a momentary relief from the hustle and bustle of being on their feet.

Ethan dropped her hand as they entered and halted in front of the snack machine. Within one fluid motion, he tucked a few quarters in. “Here.” He pushed a chocolate bar into her still open palm.

The contact this time, sent another rush down her spine and heat flooded her cheeks. “Thanks,” she mumbled. Glancing down at the chocolate bar, she smiled briefly. It was the same kind of chocolate bar she bought him on her first day.

So much has changed since then, she mused to herself. If anyone had told her she would have become this self-assured and strong version of herself a year ago – she would have withered underneath the praise. But now, she could hold her chin up high because, Sawyer felt more than ever that this was where she belonged – helping people who needed it the most.

I’ve changed.

But the change didn’t just stop there. She wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Her friendships, her peers – were all changing too. Could she have been the same person today without them? Without him?

He pushed her to the best doctor she could be, and if anyone had changed her the most – it was him.

We’ve changed.

She fumbled to wrap her head around it, but there was no other answer. Nothing to quantify the kind of relationship that developed between them. Dr. Ethan Ramsey didn’t seem the sort to have his life spiral out of control – but she had been there to pick up the pieces and he had done the same. They weren’t the same people last either.

And maybe it was time for her to face it. To face the reality that she had been dreading all this time. They weren’t just two co-workers, or even strictly unprofessional – such terms couldn’t define what he meant to her. He was her confidant. Her friend. Her home. Wherever he was – she wanted desperately to be. They were…too much of everything.

Sawyer felt his eyes trained on her as she went completely still at the sudden realization. Cheeks flushing, she hoped more than ever that her own emotions weren’t betraying her. It was one thing if she was the only person that felt this way. If she had to bury her feelings deeply to never reach the surface again – to maintain what was left of their professional working relationship she could.

But if there was any hope of him feeling the same.

Sawyer’s brain fumbled again at the thought.

Slowly, she opened the wrapper before finally allowing herself to stare up at him. “Aren’t you going to get one?”

“I don’t need it.” His answer was as usual – dismissive and short.

Shaking her head, Sawyer broke it in two and handed him half. “Here you go.” She watched his lips draw back to protest, but she quickly beat him to it. “You need it as much as I do.” She mumbled, stubbornly. “Ethan, please.” Look out for yourself, she added silently.

Something in her expression must have changed his mind. With a sigh, Ethan reached for the piece of chocolate she held out expectantly.

As much he looked infallible – all it took was a simple touch to prove differently.

The second their fingers met; Sawyer felt it in an instant. He was tired, immeasurably tired and stressed under the weight of all his responsibilities as the leader of their diagnostic team. “Ethan –” Her words died in her throat.

As their gazes lifted from the chocolate bar and onto each other again, Sawyer’s breath hitched. His earlier urgency returned in full force – but it shifted solely onto her.

A flurry of emotions whirled inside her chest – hunger, passion, pain, love - she could no longer distinguish hers’ from his. It had all melded together somehow, leaving her ragged and hardly able to catch her breath.

Can you feel it? His eyes seemed to say. They had gone from their unnerving and cool reflection of the sea, to something piercing – almost insistent in a way she couldn’t look away from.

I can feel it. She wanted to say, but she couldn’t find her voice. I can feel it so much. There was something wet on her cheeks. She tried to swipe it away, but he beat her to it.

Instead of dropping his hand, his thumb lingered across her cheek.

Maybe it was because she was suddenly too tongue-tied and exhausted to pull away. Or maybe it was because she simply felt too damn tired of holding herself back and pretending - but Sawyer couldn’t have stopped herself even if she wanted to. When her knees buckled and his arms came to  catch her before she could fall – she allowed her arms to reach for him. She allowed the tears to blur her vision as the impact of their own feelings – melded together as one.

He didn’t speak. His lips did for him. They found hers’ as she managed to draw a breath, drawing a soft moan from her slightly parted lips. 

He kept his fingers splayed across her back, suddenly clutching onto the lapels of her coat when they slid further down. He held her in place, but it didn’t matter because Sawyer had melted completely against him.

All form of resistance died when he touched, when his feelings spoke louder than anything he could  have said to push her away. And he would have pushed her away if he hadn’t kissed her first.

Her grip was clumsy as she held on. She wouldn’t let him go again - not now, not ever. Her own heartbeat seemed to rang with the same amount of clarity as Ethan uttered a soft groan.

She could taste the desire on his lips – tasted how much he missed her with every sense of her being as their kisses grew deeper, more insistent until her back felt the cool surface of the snack machine. As the seconds ticked by from the clock across the corner of the lunchroom, her arms slid to his neck and she kept herself tightly wounded against him.

There had to be a word for it.

A word that could describe this. This all-consuming need to not just hold him, but to be with him no matter what. No matter the cost. And it would cost them greatly, loving each other as desperately as this, Sawyer realized. But no matter what people said about them, or no matter Ethan’s own self-destructive tendencies to try and ruin what they have - they were always pulled back together again.

It was because she loved Ethan Ramsey. She loved him in a way that she used to think was impossible.

“You’re my soulmate.” She whispered the words against his lips; felt his shudder ripple through her as an answer. “You’re my soulmate Ethan Ramsey, and I’m never letting you go again.”

-

[madsawyer]

{ phoebe tonkin ♔ 29 ♔ she her } well, well, well if it isn’t madison sawyer running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from peach place and have lived here for one week if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a museum curator for a living. they have been known to be self centered yet charismatic. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.  

madison sawyer grew up with two sisters, to two very successful parents who fell madly in love at a young age. their romance was almost fairytale like, really, and the only thing that was stronger was their love for their children.

the girls were treated like prized jewels, encouraged to do anything they wanted and made to think they were great at every little thing - even things they weren’t actually that great at. madi was always made to think that anything she touched turned to gold and that she was a princess, so she acts as such.

she dabbled in just about everything. dance, music, modeling, literally there wasn’t a thing in the world madi hadn’t tried, and in her mind been great at, but the one thing that really stuck was art. unlike the other things she was actually great at drawing and painting, and she didn’t just like creating art but looking at it and learning more about it, too. it became obvious that no matter what she grew up to be it would have something to do with art.

it was no surprise to anyone when she graduated top of her class and went on to be accepted to princeton. she had been ive league bound her entire life, but she had never anticipated how much harder it was in one of the top schools in the country. maybe it was the pressure, or maybe it was being away from her sisters, her parents, her best friend for the first time, but grades started to slip. the idea was passed around that maybe she should enroll in a different school, an easier school, but seeing his daughter devastated at the idea her father would never let that happen and began bribing her professors to give her a passing grade. she graduated in and went on to live her life like it never happened.

all throughout her life, and especially once she entered college, madi held the belief that she had to find an epic love like her parents. she had a habit of falling in love with any and every guy who showed her the least bit of attention only to get her heart broken repeatedly. every rejection, every break up, every heart break was like another blow to her confidence, leaving her wondering what’s wrong with her. and she’s not getting any younger.

insert best friend clarissa. friends all of their lives there’s not anyone in the world who is closer to madi, and as ridiculous as it seems madison has always had a weird underlying jealousy of her. things that she’s had to try so hard for seemed to come naturally to clarissa, and although she would never admit it her jealousy came to a head when the other girl found love and got married. she wanted what clarissa had, and at the first opportunity she took it for herself.

unable to comprehend the selfishness of her own actions madison doesn’t really understand why her best friend is mad at her. she didn’t love him, anyway, right? but all the heart break and hurt she had already been through with the revolving door of guys in her life could never prepare her for the true heart break of losing her best friend, and madison is intent on getting her back, even recently moving to peach hollow and transferring jobs just to be close to her again. they weren’t just best friends, clarissa was like another sister to her, and she fully believes she’ll be able to shimmy her way back into the other girls life.

hi it’s gloom, back again with another! if you want to plot with madi feel free to like this or shoot me a message. 

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

Patience and Sawyer - Deleted Scene

This is kinda short and I fudged the ending a little to give it more closure than what I had originally intended. But I hope you enjoy it!

***

Patience leaned forward, then paused. The sound of the Christmas party still buzzing around them, she whispered, "I... think I know who killed Leonardo's father."

Sawyer switched from suspicion to sharply focus his attention on her. "What?"

She looked over her shoulder. "I--I think that--" 

"Let's go be alone for a moment." Charles took her arm and escorted her away from the party, her hobbling heavily.

***

The room he took her to was a small sitting room with a mirror and carved wooden furniture. He locked it behind him.

"You say you know who killed Silvio. Do you have proof?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure." She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was in the room. "I--I think Leonardo killed his father."

Sawyer's face tightened. "There's no way Leonardo would kill his father. I knew both of them, father and son, and he wouldn't--"

"Kill the man who forced him to eat until he vomited when his cooking wasn't to his liking? Killed the man who abused him his whole life?" She countered. "I wonder, Charles. Just how aware were you of how old Silvio treated his boy?"

In the dim light of the lamp, his face seemed wan. He looked away. "How Silvio raised Leonardo was none of my business."

"Think about it. Whoever entered the house had to have a key. Leonardo was due to return from university THAT SAME NIGHT. In criminal justice school, we call that motive and opportunity."

"In law school we call that a coincidence," he countered. "I don't know what angle you're gaining for, Winslow, but I'll have none of it." He tried to pass her, but she sidestepped him.

Her fists were clenched. "Why don't you believe me? I know he did it and you do too!" She stepped towards him. "First you refuse to help me when I've been kidnapped, and now you're refusing hard evidence that I'm throwing in your face! You need to get me out of here! He's a lunatic and he killed his father and we both know it!"

He tried to elbow her away, but she lost balance and grabbed onto him for support. 

"You're a snake, Sawyer," she hissed in his face, anger mounting until she saw red. Her fists crumpled the fabric of his expensive suit. "You're a hypocrite and a liar and the world would be a better place without you and Leonardo." 

Their faces were an inch away, close enough so that she could see the small creases on the edge of his eyes betraying his age, his hazel irises with a ring of vivid green around the pupil, his pale lips and sharp, handsome chin. And impulsively, she did the thing she knew would hurt him the most.

She kissed him.

His whole form radiated with shock. He tried to pull away, but she wound her fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair and held him firmly in place. She kissed him deeply, their faces pressed so close that she could smell his aftershave and the newness of his recently-bought tie. 

The door creaked.

She pulled away, but not early enough to see Leonardo's face settle into something blank. 

He was standing in the doorway, one arm on the side of the doorjamb, the other on the knob. His face was devoid of emotion, blank in a way she had seen only once before, when he had been standing behind her with a gun.

"Leonardo," said Sawyer rapidly, his voice shaking and his glasses askew, "It's not what you think. She forced me--"

"Well, how lovely is this?" Said Leonardo, making her jump. He now had a bright smile on his face, and his eyes twinked with mirth. "I apologize for interrupting. Please, go ahead. I am assuming that your little kiss was just the beginning."

"Leo--"

"In fact, why don't we all go upstairs together? We all like each other fine, don't we? My bed is big enough to fit all three of us."

Charles looked a little relieved at his jolly attitude. "Really?"

"No." Leonardo kept the smile, but his eyes were hard as glass.

Patience looked at the floor, heart thudding so hard it felt like it was in her throat. She didn't want to meet his eyes.

"My best friend," said Leonardo, his voice sapped of emotion, "And my fiancee."

She heard the click of his saddle shoes as he stepped forward. "My best friend. And my fiancee."

"I swear to you, you are my best friend, Leonardo. You're my dearest friend in the world. I would never do this to you. She forced herself on me, she--"

"I think," Leonardo said quietly, "You've worn out your welcome, Charles."

Sawyer looked like he was about to say something else, then his tight mouth slackened and he looked away, shoulders slumped in something resembling regret.

 Wordlessly, he stepped past Leonardo and left through the door. As it clicked shut, he left the two alone.

Tears started in Patience's eyes as he stepped forward, caging her against the wall in the small room.

"How long?" He said softly.

"This was t-the first time. But I didn't--he made me do it, Leonardo! He--"

His hand clamped over her mouth, and he lowered his lips to her ear. "Get upstairs. Now. Take your dress off, and get into bed."

Tears of fear streaked down her face as his hand tightened, crushing her lips against her teeth, but the silent, livid betrayal in his voice made her cry harder.

[thecoleopterawithana]

I have to once again thanks @vairemelde for her ask, because it brought to my attention this wonderful piece. 

‘Scared’, produced by Giles Martin, is the hidden track at the end of Paul’s 2013 New, an album inspired both by his new life with Nancy and a return to the simple happiness of his pre-Beatle days, with tracks like ‘On My Way To Work’ and ‘Early Days’. This last track - about the early days of his friendship with John Lennon - shares the spot with ‘Scared’ as the songs Paul is proudest of in the album.

On the general tone of the LP, Paul had this to say:

Is New a joyful album?

This is a happy period in my life, having a new woman - so you get new songs when you get a new woman. But in actual fact there is a lot of sadness mixed in on the record - the more you listen to it you’ll find pain getting changed to laughter - there is quite an undercurrent of that. But generally I’m having a good time so I hope that’s made it onto the record.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Francis Cronin for BBC News (4 October 2013).

Though, in my opinion, ‘Scared’ goes into the pain territory and stays there, offering no catharsis or transformation into laughter. 

Maybe that’s why it was included as a hidden track. Or perhaps, the fact that it was left ‘hidden’ is a clever play on - and emphasization of - the theme of the song: 

I’m scared to say I love you Afraid to let you know That the simplest of words won’t come out of my mouth Though I’m dying to let them go Trying to let you know I have to say I’m sorry Don’t feel sad for me But the beautiful birds won’t fly out of their cage Though I’m trying to set them free Trying to let you see, how much you mean to me I remember the first time we met Tears in our eyes reflecting Something connecting from so long ago It might have been told in the stars, maybe that’s what it was It doesn’t matter because I’m still too scared to tell you Afraid to let you see  That the simplest of words won’t come out of my mouth Though I’m dying to set them free Trying to let you see, how much it means to me How much you mean to me How much you mean to me now

If this sounds familiar, it’s because it is. Here Paul seems to explore more deeply and explicitly his fear of saying ‘I love you’, a demon that he has been trying to exorcise for quite some time.

‘Here Today’, written right after John Lennon’s death, was an exercise in just getting it out.

Songwriting is like psychiatry; you sit down and dredge up something that’s inside, bring it out front. And I just had to be real and say, John, I love you. I think being able to say things like that in songs can keep you sane.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Robert Palmer for the New York Times (25 April 1982).

And more recently:

It’s funny because just in real life, I find that a challenge. I like to sort of, not give too much away. Like you said, I’m quite private. Why should people, know my innermost thoughts? That’s for me, they’re innermost. But in a song, that’s where you can do it. That’s the place to put them. You can start to reveal truths and feelings. You know, like in ‘Here Today’ where I’m saying to John “I love you”. I couldn’t have said that, really, to him. But you find, I think, that you can put these emotions and these deeper truths – and sometimes awkward truths; I was scared to say “I love you”. So that’s one of the things that I like about songs.

— Paul McCartney, on the challenge of giving too much of himself away when writing meaningful and truthful songs. Asked by Simon Pegg and interviewed by John Wilson for BBC 4’s Mastertapes (24 May 2016).

Paul is also asked about ‘Early Days’ in this last interview.

In February 1985, Paul and Eric Stewart start working on a song that would come to be titled ‘Yvonne’s The One’. In the middle-eight, we find Paul’s first actual expression in a song of the regret of not having made his affections clearer to someone recently deceased:

She never knew how much I loved her I never got to tell her We never found a way to say farewell

The theme of his inability to express his feelings is revisited some years later, in ‘However Absurd’ (1986):

Something special between us, When we made love the game was over. I couldn’t say the words, Words wouldn’t get my feelings through, So I keep talking to you

However absurd, however absurd It may seem.

Paul had this to say of the track:

There’s a sort of ‘Walrus’ intro to this track, but of course any time you play that style on piano it evokes that. It’s a style I know and love. The lyrics on this song are a bit bizarre, but then again they make a kind of sense, a strange kind of sense. […] In the middle section it explains itself a bit, less surrealist: ‘Something special between us… Words wouldn’t get my feelings through… However absurd it may seem.’ That’s taking off into The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran – there’s a line of his that always used to attract me and John, which was ‘Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it just to reach you.’ So it’s that kind of meaning to ‘However Absurd’. 

— Paul McCartney, interview with Patrick Humphries for Club Sandwich nº 42 (Autumn 1986).  

And in another revelatory exploration of his love and his regret at not being clearer in his affection, we have ‘This One’ (1989):

Did I ever take you in my arms, Look you in the eye, tell you that I do, Did I ever open up my heart And let you look inside.

If I never did it, I was only waiting For a better moment that didn’t come. There never could be a better moment Than this one, this one.

In the video of the studio recording of this song, Paul can be seen imitating one of John’s characteristic silly smiles, after he sings the lines  “Did I ever touch you on the cheek / Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile?”.

When asked about the meaning of this song, Paul said the following:

Q: One of the new songs, “This One”, is it about a marriage?

Paul: A relationship. Yeah.

Q: And about, not expressing emotions and feelings?

[…]

Paul: You get those moments, late at night or when you’re feeling good and you think: “I hope I tell her I love her, enough”. And then come the morning, when you’ve got to get off to the office and it’s [brusquely] “Love you, goodbye!”, and so on. Life’s like that, there’s never enough time to tell them, like your parents for instance, oh god just what you meant to me. You always think, “I’m saving it up. I’ll tell ‘em one day”. Something like John, for instance. He died. 

I was lucky, the last few weeks, months that he was alive, we’d managed to get out relationship back on track. And we were talking and having really good conversations. But George actually, didn’t get his relationship right. They were arguing right up to the end. Which I’m sure is a source of great sadness to him. And I’m sure, in the feeling of this song, George was always planning to tell John he loved him. But time ran out. And that’s what the song is about. There never could be a better moment than this one, right now. Take this moment to say, “I love you”.  

— Paul McCartney, interview with Bernard Goldberg for 48 Hours (January 1990).

I find it amusing that here he uses a fairly similar expression - “just what you meant to me” - to the one he would trice repeat at the end of ‘Scared’.

About the meaning of this latter track, Paul explains:

Well, I’m just like anybody else, man! You know? You get those moments. I don’t normally write about them; but it’s a good thing to use. I was feeling it, as well. I was newly in love with Nancy, and I was finding it a little difficult to say, ‘I love you.’ Number one, I’m a guy, and that’s a big excuse, I know, but it is a bit true to form… That song is basically about she and I, and the middle eight is about when we met. And we did exactly as I say in the song, we welled up.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Miranda Sawyer for The Guardian (13 October 2013).

And a month latter:

Q: Like ‘Scared’ – a ‘hidden’ track on New – which is a stark confessional about baring your soul to another person. Did you find that easy to write?

Paul: You can actually say, “I love you,” to someone, but it’s quite hard. And so that’s why it’s usually easier when you’re a bit drunk. It’s like ‘Here Today’ [on 1982’s Tug of War], which was for John, and there is the line, (sings) “Du du du du du du du, I love you,” and it is a bit of a moment in the song. It would be a bit like Keith Richards saying to Mick, “I love you.” I mean he does, but I’m not sure he’s going to say it. I’m sure the Gallaghers love each other on some level, probably quite deeply, but that certainly isn’t going to get said soon. I think it’s quite an interesting subject and I felt it most recently with [wife] Nancy, I knew I loved her but to actually say, “I love you,” you know, it’s just not that easy.

— Paul McCartney,  interview with Pat Gilbert for MOJO (November 2013).

The quip about it being easier to say when drunk is probably in relation to the Night We Cried referenced in ‘Here Today’, an episode Paul describes as an “important emotional landmark” for it was “probably the only time we just got that kind of intimate with each other” and actually said the big ‘I Love You’. 

And though he says he faced similar challenges with being emotionally open with his new wife Nancy, he shared this pain at his lack of expression in relation to John as well.

The sole verse in which he deviates from this main theme is also very interesting:

I remember the first time we met Tears in our eyes reflecting Something connecting from so long ago It might have been told in the stars, maybe that’s what it was

Paul has also explained that the first half refers to the circumstances in which he first met Nancy, on a surf shop in Long Island:

Out of the blue, I met this girl and we started talking and she happened to say, 'I knew Linda.’ So that was emotional. I wouldn’t meet, typically, many people who knew Linda, and who knew her during her cancer treatment – and Nancy did. She’s a cancer survivor herself. So it got very deep, very quickly, and it was like, 'What the hell was that?’ And then I ran into her a couple of more times on the holiday, and we got to know each other and started dating. So the song is about that, about this depth of emotion, of feeling – but totally being scared to say or do anything about it. Like a tongue-tied teenager.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Miranda Sawyer for The Guardian (13 October 2013).

But it’s interesting how even here we could read a shared inspiration in his relationship with John. Could the tears in their eyes be also double a reference to the shared pain of both losing their mothers around the time they met? This emotional connection was always something that Paul valued.

And then, in the second part, he seems to get to the notion of them being Cosmically Connected, soulmates fated to meet, part of each other’s karma, that John held onto throughout his life and Paul seemed to also embrace, as the passage of time proved again and again just of special what they had was. 

It is also entirely probable that the song is exclusively about Nancy, with no direct references to John whatsoever. But we can’t deny how his relationship with John was also deeply impacted by this issue, and thus him facing this fear in relation to Nancy is invariably informed by his previous experiences with John. So even if Nancy was the motivator for this introspection, the exposition of his mental state is nonetheless useful in understanding what he was feeling in relation to John.

All in all, this song is a beautiful exploration of one of the core issues in their relationship, and I’m continuously grateful and overjoyed that their music to each other never seems to end, as I continue to explore their solo catalogues!