#once I'm back on the horse anything I'm proud of is getting put on my main regardless

[rindemption]

I have a question

Posting my drawing practice and doodles and wips has, in the past, been a pretty effective way to get me to keep drawing. Accountability and all that.

Would there be any interest in seeing those posts here on my main blog, or would people rather I kept it to a side blog?

[ckret2]

Chapter 69 (lol) of human Bill Cipher being a prisoner with terrible fashion sense: beach episode!!! Well, lake episode. Close enough.

And a few other people come to town.

Just after dawn, a sleek, nondescript black government SUV, now dusty from a long drive, parked in front of the Gravity Falls Police Department. Three agents in sleek, nondescript black suits stepped out.

As they left the car, Blubs came out to meet them, Durland trailing behind him. "Agent Powers, Agent Trigger! Good to see you again." He shook Powers's hand, then glanced at the new agent. "And you are...?"

"Agent Dale!" The rookie shook Blubs's hand next, beaming. "Very pleased to meet you. I was just saying in the car—you have a beautiful town here, just beautiful."

"Wouldn't stop talking about it," Trigger muttered.

Blubs chuckled. "Why, thank you. We're quite proud of it ourselves."

Durland said, "Say, Agent Dale—don't you agents usually have tougher-sounding codenames?"

"Agent Clyde S. Dale. Like the horse."

"Ohhh. Yup, that'll do it."

"Sheriff Blubs," Powers said. "I trust you have the requested materials?"

"Right inside," Blubs said. "We've got the readings on last week's gravity anomaly from McGucket's scanners, and reports on this weekend's power surge."

"No overlap between the incidents?"

"None anyone here detected."

"Hmm. Has anything else strange happened since we were last in town?"

Blubs hesitated. "Well—never mind all that." He quickly shifted topics, "Say, I like your 'honk if you want to be arrested' bumper sticker." ("Oh is that what it says?" Durland asked.)

Agent Powers said solemnly, "I can get you the contact information of the shop where I bought it. It's a very nice small business run by art students."

"Would you? That'd be delightful."

Powers paused before following the cops and his agents into the police department, glancing out at Gravity Falls' town square—the modest little main street shops, the town hall, the statue of the town founder, the distinctive water tower with the faded muffin graffiti, and the familiar mountains surrounding the little valley town.

And then he let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Fine," he muttered grumpily, glaring at the town as though it were an old rival as annoyed to see him as he was to see it. "Let's just get this over with."

He followed Blubs into the police department.

####

"Attention, everybody," Stan said, standing in the entryway with his fists on his hips, Soos beaming behind him. "I've got some great news!"

Abuelita and Bill glanced up from one of Abuelita's soap operas; Mabel and Dipper craned their necks to see Stan from where they were having dinner at the kitchen table.

Stan announced, "It's finally time!"

Dipper and Mabel blinked. Bill said, "Great. I'll get the ritual daggers, you can set up the blood red candles. Dolores?"

Abuelita said, "I will put out the good sacrifice altar." Bill laughed in delight.

"Yeah, yuck it up, you two," Stan said. "We're going fishing tomorrow! I've got the bait, I found everyone's rods, Soos and I patched up the old boat, I even—" He paused at the sound of the vending machine opening. "Hey! Ford!"

Ford ducked in from the gift shop. "What?" 

Stan chucked a hat at him. "I made you a fishing buddy hat! See, it's got your name! That's pretty good!"

"Oh." Ford inspected the letters haphazardly stitched onto the hat. "Why?"

"Fishing tomorrow! Half the summer's gone by, and we haven't gone fishing once! The guys from the lodge probably think I'm too ashamed to show my face. But it rained this weekend, the weather's just cleared up, now's the perfect time for fishing!"

"Oh," Ford said again, trying to drag his thoughts from magical tapes to fishing. "If you'd let me know earlier, I'd have built another fish-summoning beacon like the one on our boat." (Bill glanced curiously at Ford at the mention of an invention he didn't already know about; then stubbornly refused to be interested and dragged his gaze back to the TV.)

"No beacons! This isn't fishing for survival, this is about the sport! Asserting our manhood! Just the skill, strength, and patience of three men—and some women and children—against the lake!" (Soos beamed at being included amongst the men.)

Ford considered that. He didn't assert his manhood very often; usually he just sort of let his manhood hang around minding its own business, like an old cat that wants to be in the same room as you without socializing. It sounded like an intriguingly novel experience. "Okay, great. What time?"

"I want everyone on the road tomorrow morning! By six thirty at the latest."

The kids groaned.

"C'mon, dudes," Soos said encouragingly. "It'll be fun! After about three hours, once you're awake enough to think."

"No griping, we've gotta be there early to get a prime fishing spot," Stan said. "Tomorrow's a lodge fishing day. We're going home with a haul so big they'll be embarrassed they kicked me out!"

Dipper asked, "You mean the lodge for the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, right? Why'd they kick you out?"

Stan sighed, "Once the town found out about Ford, they realized I'd spent the last thirty years attending lodge meetings under his membership. Since I'd never undergone the—" He rolled his eyes and made finger quotes, "'sacred angler initiation rites,' they booted me. And they said I can't try to join again, just because of that one dumb little white lie! And my extensive criminal record."

Ford hurriedly crossed the living room to avoid blocking Abuelita's TV view. (Bill looked through him like he wasn't there.) "Stan got a lot more out of my membership than I did—once I'd finished my initiation I probably only ever attended three meetings. I tried to petition the Mackerels to let him rejoin."

"How'd they respond?" Mabel asked.

"They kicked me out too."

Bill scoffed. "Big deal! The Fishmasons and all their subordinate organizations are just a big boring social club that got you hotel discounts three hundred years ago. The mystique around them is more interesting than anything they actually do."

"Figuring that out is why I stopped attending after three meetings," Ford said. "I joined to learn about the dark secret underbelly of Western politics—not sit around eating charcuterie and fancy nuts while everyone talks about baseball and makes fun of me for not knowing what a fly ball is. It's a stupid term! Doesn't the ball always fly?"

"Really, they aren't even worth joining," said Bill Cipher, the only person to have ever been kicked out of seventeen separate Masonic lodges in seventeen separate bodies.

Reminded of the fancy nuts he was missing out on at this very second, Stan set his jaw in determination. "Yeah, well, they're a big boring social club that'll rue the day they kicked out Stan Pines! Out the door, six thirty, on the dot!"

"I don't have an alarm," Bill said. "Hey star girl, wake me at five."

Mabel shuddered at the thought of setting an alarm that early. "No way. You can borrow my radio."

"Hold on, I didn't say you're invited," Stan said. "We've already got a full boat! Me, my brother, the kids, and Soos and his girl. Nobody wants to sit on the lake with you for eight hours."

"I wanna sit on the lake with Bill!"

"Nobody but Mabel wants that."

"Relax! I don't want to sit on a boat with you underpainted clowns either," Bill said. "I just want to sit on the beach! I miss sunlight! Sunlight without being forced to hike through half the valley on no food or sleep."

(Ford decided that was his cue to make himself scarce. He scooted into the guest room.)

"Well," Stan said, "we're not staying thirty feet from the shore, we're not leaving anybody behind, and we don't trust you to stay put on the beach without your dumb magic bracelet—so how do you expect that to work."

"I'll just stay with Dolores."

Stan and Soos stared at Abuelita. Soos said, "Abuelita? Do you want to come?"

Abuelita considered it. "Sure. The weather is nice. I can catch up on my reading."

"Yes!" Bill hopped off the couch. "Then it's a plan!"

"Hey, hold on," Stan said as Bill breezed past him, "I didn't agree to—"

"Hey star girl!" Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Need your fashion services! I need a swimsuit before tomorrow."

Mabel gasped in delight. "What kind?"

"Whatever exposes the most skin without getting me arrested. I'm absorbing as much sunlight as possible."

"With sunscreen, right?" Soos said.

Bill turned and gave him a blank-faced stare.

Soos hopefully repeated, "With sunscreen?"

"Don't need it."

"You totally do, dude. Not many people talk about this? But having more melanin doesn't totally protect you from sun damage, it just slows it down," Soos said. "Trust me on this. When I was like eight, I went to this water park—

"Uh-huh, and three days later you were peeling off flakes of your own dead flesh," Bill said. "It's cute how you think you know more about humans from 23 years of passively being one than I do from 500,000 years of actively studying them."

"Oh."

"C'mon, star girl! No time to waste!" Bill grabbed Mabel's hand and tugged her off her chair.

"Wait, my sandwich—!" Mabel grabbed the rest of her dinner off her plate and shoved it in her mouth as Bill dragged her upstairs.

Abuelita shot him a dirty look as he passed, but turned back to her soap opera.

####

Just past five in the morning, Bill crept by the guest room door. He glanced through the wall as he passed; good, both of the Stans were in bed and sound asleep. Bill wouldn't have had a chance to get up to his mischief if Ford had decided to sleep downstairs.

He snuck behind the vending machine; paused to squint toward the future and confirm that when he looked at the stairs, he could only see himself using them anytime soon; then down to the elevator; and down, down to Ford's study.

Bill sighed in relief when the elevator slid open and he saw that Ford had left his study door ajar. He crept into the room, feet socked, hands gloved—Ford was the kind of paranoid to actually check for prints if he suspected anything, and Bill's triangular whorls were very distinctive—and looked through the objects piled on the shelves and furniture for any concealed sensors or cameras. The coast was clear.

He idly scanned the nearby shelves for any sign of his stolen time tape, didn't find it, but didn't expect to. That wasn't what he was here for.

He knelt in front of a half-disassembled filing cabinet, flipped through the files in the removed bottom drawer until he found several folders together about curses and hexes, and flipped through them until he found the one labeled "Curses & Hexes (w/ ingredients)". Good old Sixer, left everything exactly where Bill remembered it.

He rifled through the pages—"aha!"—until he found the paper he was looking for and pulled it out. Handwritten at the top of a ragged-edged piece of notebook paper were the words "Reverse Sunscreen". Bill read through the list of ingredients—"Oh, pepper juice, not pepper flakes, right."—then put the paper back.

He glanced back and forth between the past and present to ensure he put the files back exactly where he'd found them—again, considering Ford's paranoia, he might notice any difference.

And then he returned to the elevator and headed upstairs.

The whole time he was in the study, Bill didn't let himself glance at the back of the room where Ford's shrine to him used to be.

####

"Heya, pal," Bill said. "It's been a while! Where have you been hiding all summer?"

Gompers blinked up at Bill.

"I guess we both look different than we did the last time we met, huh? I think your makeover went better than mine, though! You didn't fall as far as I did." He didn't have as far to fall.

Gompers accepted the backhanded compliment with utter indifference.

"But hey, why talk about the past! Let's let bygones be bygones. Here." Bill knelt, pulled one of Ford's nutrition pills from the folds of his beach towel, and held it out. "A peace offering! A little snack for you."

Gompers eyed it warily.

"Come on, you've eaten worse things than this."

He delicately ate the pill out of Bill's hand.

"Thaaat's right. Tell me how you like that thing later."

Leaning on his car, Stan—the only other person who'd actually been ready to go at 6:30—looked over Bill's shirt and trout slippers, and asked warily, "You didn't forget that humans need to wear pants, right?"

Bill got to his feet, shoved his makeshift umbrella-cane under the same arm as his beach towel, and pulled up the hem of the puma shirt he'd stolen from the gift shop to reveal his bikini bottom. It was teal with little puffy gold triangles painted on. "Cover-up dress. Your arbitrary fashion rules are different for beaches."

Stan considered whether a t-shirt counted as a dress, decided he didn't know enough about dresses and he might as well give this one to Bill, and grunted. "Fine, you're legal."

"Am I free to go, officer?"

"Never compare me to a cop again."

"Stop acting like one!" Bill trotted off to his ride to wait for the other humans to assemble.

There wasn't room for all eight beachgoers in one vehicle; the Pines piled together in Stan's car, while the Ramirezes (including Melody—honorary future Ramirez—and Bill—magic braceleted to Abuelita) took Soos's truck. So that Abuelita didn't have to squeeze past the front seats into the back, Bill and Melody were assigned the back bench; when Bill greeted Melody and she only responded with a vague mumble and an averted gaze, he scooted closer to the middle of the bench, spread his knees to take up more space, and smugly pretended not to notice how Melody squeezed herself against the door.

By the time the Ramirez vehicle parked at the beach, the Pines family was already out of their car: Stan was glaring up the beach with his fists on his hips, the kids were unsuccessfully searching Mabel's supply bag for Dipper's sunscreen, and Ford was lingering back at the car, pretending to check the contents of their tackle box but actually trying to shake the sudden memory of weightlessness and water in his throat. As Bill passed, Ford muttered, "I'm surprised you wanted to get this close to the lake so soon. Considering." It had been less than a week since their joint near death experience.

"Why not? Nearly drowning was the most fun part of that hike." (Ford wondered whether that was a red flag, an underhanded comment about how unfun the rest of the hike had been, or just Bill being Bill; and, for his own peace of mind, decided it was probably the third thing.) "Looks like you got something fun out of the trip, too." Bill snapped the shoulder strap of Ford's waders.

Ford shoved Bill's hand away. "As long as I have them, I might as well use them."

When everyone caught up with Stan, he was scowling at four men, ages ranging from 50 to 80, wearing fishing vests and hats with the Holy Mackerel's distinctive stylized fish symbol. "Eugene," Stan muttered. "Eugene and his goons wanted to kick me out of the lodge for years. Just because I have a grating personality and am generally unpleasant to be around! And tried to get the lodge to pick a local affordable housing fund as our charity for fundraising one year!"

Ford gave Stan a surprised look. "You never mentioned you worked with an affordable housing charity."

"Yeah. The Compassionate Angel's Fund For Gravity Falls Tourism Business Owners Who Are Behind On Their Mortgage Payments."

Ford snorted. 

Bill said, "I think you should've gotten away with it just for being funny."

"Don't even look at them," Stan instructed the group. "These jerks aren't worth it." The collected group studiously avoided looking at the Mackerels, except Bill and Abuelita, who didn't care.

As they walked up the beach toward the pier and veered around the Mackerels, Stan suddenly stopped, turned straight toward them, and said loudly, "Why, Eugene! What a coincidence! I almost didn't notice you!"

A tall, elderly man with a fishing rod over one shoulder and a black wooden cane in his other hand glanced over at the Pines/Ramirez party. "Oh," he said, with a voice like he'd found a fly stuck in gum on his cane. "Hello, Stan-ley. We haven't seen you out on the lake this summer."

Stan laughed loudly, as if Eugene had told a hilarious joke. "Oh, that! I was just waiting for perfect fishing weather! I'm not about to waste my time out on the lake on a bad fishing day!" He gestured behind himself, "Besides, I had to wait until my whole family was free to come along."

(Soos elbowed Melody and whispered excitedly, "He called us his family!")

Stan clapped his hands proudly on Dipper and Mabel's shoulders—who looked like they hoped the sandy beach would swallow them whole—and said, "I don't see your family, Eugene, where are they?"

"Dead." With mournful dignity, Eugene said, "I outlived my wife and all three of my children. Remember? You ate potato chips during my daughter's funeral."

Stan opened his mouth, shut it, and said, "Was that the really boring one that went like an hour?"

Ford, who didn't always have the best social instincts but could tell when Stan had screwed up, started shooing the rest of the family away from the scene, elbowed Stan, and said, "Let's get to the boat. You wanted to get a prime fishing spot, right?"

Eugene looked at Ford. "Ah. You must be the real Stanford Pines?" he said. "So I'm assuming, anyway. Apparently it's hard to tell you two apart."

Stan scowled; but before he could retort, Bill pushed past him to butt into the conversation. "Is it ever! Listen, take it from someone who's made this mistake—you've got to count the fingers on these two, every time."

Eugene huffed sardonically. "So it seems." (Ford self-consciously hid his hands in his pockets and shot Bill a dark look as he shuffled off with the rest of the family.)

"Say, while I've got your attention—name's Goldie, by the way—I couldn't help but admire your cane!" He tapped the tip of his umbrella against Eugene's cane. "I'm in the market for an upgrade from this substitute I've been using! That's no blackwood, right? That looks like true ebony."

"Good eye," Eugene said, surprised. "Yes, genuine Gaboon ebony."

"Must've dropped a lot of gold on this thing," Bill said appreciatively. "You've gotta tell me where you got it."

"I'm afraid I don't remember off the top of my head..."

"That's fine! Look it up—" (he twisted around to speak over his shoulder as Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him away) "—I'm sure we'll meet again!"

About fifteen feet away, Stan growled, "What was that?"

"Networking. I've got plans for that guy," Bill said. "Hey, did you hear him? Gaboon ebony?" He laughed condescendingly. "Easiest way to make a guy look like a moron, start talking about 'true' ebonies. Didja know the word 'ebony' comes from Egyptian? And when they talked about 𓍁𓈖𓏭𓆱, they were talking about African blackwood. Wood so hard it sinks and you have to tool it like a metal! Gaboon ebony is a flimsy usurper!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But you don't pretend you do, and that's what makes you better than that guy." Bill tugged Stan down by the shoulder. "Listen, Fisherman. I can't tell you where the fish are biting but I can tell you where they're swimming. It'll give you an advantage, but you'll need to do the rest."

Stan squinted mistrustfully at Bill. "What's the catch."

"The catch is you have to accept my help. Do you want it or not?"

"And why are you offering?"

"Because I think these lodge guys are a bunch of snobs. And they should've chosen your charity. It was funny."

That, plus Stan had been the most reluctant to let Bill live; Bill had to convince him he'd made the right choice.

Bill gave Stan directions to a bunch of fish he could see underwater by the Island Head Beast's right earhole; and then, his good deed for the day done, he headed off to claim a spot on the beach.

Ford had gone into Tate & Backle's to properly purchase the clothing they'd borrowed after the eclipse, and Soos was helping set Abuelita up with a low beach chair and a large umbrella. Bill smoothed out a patch of sand about ten feet from Abuelita so he could lay out his beach towel and dump his supplies for the day beside it. While Mabel and Melody got the boat ready, Dipper wandered around looking for sunscreen to borrow. He saw Bill's tube, snatched it without asking, and generously coated his arms, legs, and face. Bill fought back a grin and pretended not to notice.

He tossed aside his t-shirt and fish slippers, settled down on the towel in his bikini, carefully squeezed several horizontal lines of reverse sunscreen across the front of his abdomen and thighs, and drew a few vertical lines in between to break them up.

Ford trudged over from the bait shop to tell Bill, "I thought you'd like to know those ridiculous fish slippers were thirty dollars."

Bill laughed. "Whoa! Seems like a lot of money for some cheap novelty shoes! It's too bad you decided to trap me in a position where I'm too destitute and powerless to make my own purchases, isn't it?"

"All right, all right." Ford's gaze caught on the bruise-blue line discoloring the skin from Bill's left shoulder to his right hip—had he gotten injured during one of his hikes the past week? Or had that always been there? Ford didn't think he'd ever seen Bill's body shirtless, maybe it had always been here—but then he noticed Bill's lines of sunscreen and barked a laugh. "I suppose you're not planning to rub that in."

"Brilliant observation." Bill began smoothing down the lines with a finger, maintaining the pattern he'd drawn.

"You wanted to come out here to suntan? I'm sure you're already aware of the cancer risks from tanning."

"If I'm in this body long enough to get cancer, I'll welcome it." Bill lay down, laced his hands behind his head, and gave Ford an obnoxious smile. "Anyway, basal cell carcinomas are delicious. There's something kinda romantic about them, you know?"

Ford ruminated on that with thoughtful bafflement, shushed the voice in his head trying to point out that Bill was waving ever more red flags, and concluded that perhaps humans weren't meant to comprehend the romanticism of skin cancer. "Fine."

"What's everyone standing around for?" Stan asked, trudging up to Soos and Ford. "C'mon, we're burning daylight! Let's..." He trailed off, staring at Bill.

His bikini top consisted of two triangular red cups. Each cup had an enormous staring eye.

"See something ya like?" Bill asked dryly.

Stan quickly looked away. "Ugh. That's indecent."

"What is?"

"That—design!"

"What's indecent about eyeballs?"

"It looks like...!" He gestured vaguely but emphatically.

"What? What does it look like? Tell me what it looks like, Stanley."

"Never mind!" He turned away with a huff and muttered to Ford, "Can you believe him?"

"I honestly didn't notice anything until you pointed it out." Ford waved back at Bill dismissively as he followed Stan toward the boat. "Enjoy your sunburn."

"I will! I haven't had a good sunburn in centuries! That's one of the best features of earthling bodies!" Bill got comfortable and shut his eyes.

Soos finished getting Abuelita settled, headed toward the boat—but hesitated as he passed by Bill. Bill opened an eye a crack to glower up at him. "What?"

Soos mumbled, "You could've just told me you wanted to get sunburned. I mean—yesterday."

"But you didn't ask if I wanted a sunburn," Bill snapped. "You just assumed I didn't know how they work. And that's the point: you assumed I was stupid instead of considering that maybe you didn't know my plan."

"Oh. Uh... sorry." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel stupid."

Bill's irritation flared higher. He sat up. "I didn't say you made me feel stupid," he hissed, voice low, talking fast. "There's nothing that you could do to make me feel stupid. But that doesn't mean you aren't treating me like I'm stupid, does it?"

"Whoa—!" Soos raised his hands defensively. "Chill, dawg. I didn't mean—"

"What's the phrase, do ut des? 'Do unto others'? Your species's phrase. Don't treat me like I'm stupider than you and I won't have to return the favor—sound like a fair deal, Question Mark?" Bill stared up at him challengingly, brows raised.

"But th— I w— You..." Soos's protests that he'd been doing nothing but trying to do-unto-others Bill got jumbled all around under the force of Bill's spotlight glare. His shoulders slumped. "Sure," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Good." Bill lay back down. "Get out of my sun."

Soos trudged away; and Bill took a deep breath, tried to get in a meditative mindset where he could shut off his mind, and focused on the feeling of sunshine on his body.

He'd just about managed to drop into a proper trance when Abuelita called sweetly, "Bill? Would you grab a bottle of water for me?"

His face twitched toward a frown as he was dragged back to full consciousness. Hadn't Soos left them close enough for her? Some grandson. 

"Bill?"

He tried to think of an excuse to stay where he was; then growled in irritation and sat up. "Okay, okay." He couldn't afford to offend the chef with access to the poisons.

The bag with the water bottles was right behind Abuelita's elbow; but maybe her joints were stiff. Bill knelt to unzip the bag. "Another bodice ripper?" he asked, glancing at her book. 

"A powerful sorceress queen has been captured by her enemies. She just learned they are led by her former apprentice."

"I can sympathize with that." Bill dragged the bag up next to Abuelita's knee so he wouldn't need to grab another bottle for her later. "Who's the love interest—guileless guard? Heroic rescuer?"

"The apprentice."

"Sympathy's gone." Bill glanced toward the boat to see what the rest of the household was up to.

They'd already reached the spot Bill had indicated and started fishing. Soos was excitedly reeling in his line; the boat listed to one side as everyone crowded around him to see what he'd brought up. Stan dipped a net in the water to scoop up his catch.

It was a boot.

Everyone's faces fell in disappointment.

Except for Ford's, who gleefully snatched up the boot he'd kicked off during the eclipse when he fell in the lake. He dumped the water out of his boot, switched places with Soos, and began fishing the same spot.

Abuelita said, "My grandson has been very nice to you."

Bill looked at her warily.

"Hasn't he?" She had a polite smile and daggers in her eyes.

He had the oddest feeling that this was going somewhere dangerous. "Yeah yeah yeah, sure he has," Bill said. "Nothing but nice. I think I'll take a little stroll, stretch these legs! See ya!" He stood to escape.

He only got a step away before the enchanted bracelet pulled tight around his wrist. He turned around to stare in amazement.

Abuelita had wrapped the slack of the bracelet thread around her hand.

Bill had made a severe miscalculation.

"So," Abuelita said. "Why are you being mean to my grandson." It was a trap all along. She'd agreed to be handcuffed to him so she could corner him for an interrogation.

"Whaaat," Bill said. "Me? No way! I'd never!"

Abuelita stared at him patiently.

"I don't even talk to him," Bill said, trying to think of a conversational escape route.

She raised a brow.

Got it. "He's just too nice, you see! I don't know how to talk to a guy that nice," he lied. "Makes things awkward!" How could any grandmother complain about her grandson being called too nice? "Yeah—not Jesús's fault at all. I don't hold it against him."

"Ah," Abuelita said, "you aren't used to people being nice to you?"

Sure, they could go with that, try to get him some pity. "Yeah! You know how it is. King of Nightmares, scourge of the multiverse—I'm not a popular guy."

"But you have friends, don't you? The scary ones you brought with you to town last year? Are they not nice to you?"

Bill hesitated, trying to figure out his story now. "Sure—they're nice to me. They're my friends! They love me! They'd do anything I say!"

"Oh. So, you're only comfortable with people being nice to you when you can control them." Abuelita smiled sweetly.

Swift, efficient, and brutal. Bill gaped at her.

"I'm glad you have nothing against Soos," she said. "And that you won't be rude to him."

Bill snapped his mouth shut. "Of course not." He gave Abuelita a tight smile. Played like a fiddle. Even though he'd been lying, she still managed to make him look like a loser. How embarrassing. "If you don't mind, I've got a sunburn to get back to."

"I'm not stopping you." She let the extra thread on the bracelet cuffs unwind from her hand and drop to the sand.

Bill trudged back to his towel, snapping as he went, "I hope this is one of those books you hate where the couple only gets hitched because they've got a baby coming."

"The sorceress has magical birth control."

"Course she does."

Bill flopped onto his towel again and stared at the sky. Ouch.

####

(I've been promising Agent Powers AND a beach episode for ages, and we finally get to them both at the same time. Let me know what y'all think so for!)

[frostbitemutt]

some Jack marston hcs? Low honor more specifically 👀

Oh dear. But, Yes. Yes I will. This is low honor. Don't expect anything less than awful 💀.

Yandere! Low honor! Jack Marston hcs

Warnings: gender neutral darling, yandere trope, forced "relationship", obsession, stalking, harassment, unwanted crude flirting, perverted comments, non-consensual kissing and touching mentioned (nothing explicit), breaking and entering, kidnapping, violence, murder, sadism

Main traits:

|perverted/possessive/violent/sadistic|

✘ John Jack Marston Jr. Better to just call him Jack. A raunchy 19 year old trying to imitate his less than a saint father. On track to being an outlaw... yeah.. you're pretty fucked. He's an absolute little shithead.

✘ I'm going to assume you're a local townsfolk, maybe a store clerk, farmer, or maybe you're just his neighbor. You'll know when you've caught his eye. He makes it more than clear. Hounding you around town. Cat-calling you.

✘ His comments are perverted "They tell me I'm at my sexual peak sweetheart..", "Come on, just one kiss.", "are you are aroused as I am?".. and other comments. Very much to your dismay. Dosen't matter your gender. The perversion dosen't stop at words. If you don't have your curtains shut.. you may have to deal with a peeping Tom. His hands wander where they shouldn't, attempting to grab at you, pull you in close enough for him to kiss.

✘ He's possessive of you. You're not in a relationship. Hell you're not even friendly with him. You're definitely less than that. He still feels you're his regardless of the fact you hate his ass. No other man or woman needs to be looking or touching up on you. That's his job. Not theirs. He won't stand by and let someone else harrass you either. To him it's only okay when he does it. Hypocrite. Threatening, dueling, and shooting people left and right.

✘ Just like his daddy, he's violent. Wouldn't John be proud? Probably not. I already mentioned him shooting randos down. Your friends? They're found with a ludicrous amount of bullet holes. Lover? Yeah their head got blow clean off with a shotgun, sorry. You ain't off the hook either. He'll tackle you to the ground and manhandle you in a fit of anger. He'll shout real loud too. Sudden and explosive is how his temper runs.

✘ Sadism is something that shines through a bit in Jack. Now he's not going out of his way to harm or hit you most of the time, unless he's feeling petty. Maybe he'll give you a mildly harsh kick to your side. However that dosent mean he isn't at all. Your tears, your screams, your sobs, and your insults...make him feel all funny inside as he'd put it. Yuck. He'll laugh and snort at you most of the time. Mocking you and your fear. Maybe even make some pig noises at you to add some salt to the wound.

✘ You swear, you wake up at least once a week to a weird noise in your home. Window or door suddenly cracked open, not even cracked, more like wide open. Yet you can't find no one. Oh, yeah, mutiple items go missing too. Lots of clothes. Toothbrush. Notebooks if you got any. Were there always boot prints in your carpet? Your bed feel oddly warm? Nope. It was Jack. Who else.

✘ Escape is certainly.. difficult when he goes to kidnap you. He abuses the fuck out of his lasso. Running away on foot? Lasso. On horse? Get the fuck over here. Lasso. Move more than 30 feet from him? Lasso. That point he's doing it cause he thinks it's funny. Unfortunate for you. Not to downplay the fear that comes with it. Thinking you're free, only to be yanked off your horse and hogtied to the back of his.

✘ It's all much worse when he has you isolated, in his home. No police you can snitch to, bystanders to chase him off, or neighbors of yours to questioning him snooping about. He's dosen't bother restraining himself, he was barely before. Sloppily kissing you, hands grasping wherever he can, shoving you against the nearest solid surface. It's vile.

✘ You'll have to endure more of his tantrums than ever. Grumbling when you refuse to talk to him, because why would you want to? Pouting and stomping his foot when you push him away from you. Going on rants when you won't stop crying. His mood changes day from day. Luckily after a bit you might be able to read his face and tell when he's about to to blow a fuse. You can brace yourself for his delusional complaining.

✘ Don't loose all hope. Escape is possible. Now I'm not going to say Jack's stupid, he isn't. However we're still talking about a 19 year old. (I'm almost 19 I can throw shade). He doesn't have a plethora experience like his dad or an older outlaw. He's a new adult on a violent power trip. If he leaves the house, check the locks, he might have forgotten one. Try to knock him unconscious in his sleep or.. more permanent if you're absolutely certain you can. That's the more risky option. If you can act well enough, you can possibly convince him to let you outside with him. If he does? Book it.

[choster33]

Bridgerton Season 3 ep 2 Reaction

Again, I am going at this slowly and probably going to be spoiled mercilessly until June but I am watching one episode a week until June. So here is my reaction to Episode 2. Spoilers ahead.

Ok, so I've been spoiled by references to this already. But Colin and the whores. So right now I don't feel any way about this because Colin is over age and single. He is back from Europe and has had the influence of Anthony and Benedict before him. He is not cheating on anyone here and having fun especially because he can. He has the money and the freedom to do it. He is not deflowering virgins and lying to women or mistreating them, he is getting in practice.

Now back to Polin. Ok the discussion about the first meeting is SO CUTE! He brings it up which shows how much of it he remembers and shows that it is important to him, not some insignificant thing. I would be melting! "Because we were children" indeed. The best love starts with friendship and there is no better friends than the ones you have as little children! You are your purest selves! Even Rae the housemaid thinks there's something going on! Plus I love the ease Penelope feels around Colin and that they are friends. Yes!

Colin talking to Penelope about going abroad and finding himself is surprising and refreshing. In the books, a major plot point was Colin chafing at the Bridgerton name and wanting to be known and admired for himself which leads to Penelope encouraging Colin's writing. I wonder if they will ever include Colin writing in the show and am curious about that. But I'm not mad that show!Colin is more at peace and one with himself in the show than the books, it makes him more grounded and by the time they get together Penelope will be getting whole, mature Colin. "Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free, the world opens up." Swoon!

Bridgerton drawing room! Colin listens to her. He asked her where she was most comfortable and uses that information. This is the kind of stuff that makes me love friends to lovers. Whether there is sex involved or not, this is the one person who actually knows you, who actually cares about your wants and needs. He's not doing anything nefarious or even self serving, he is just being her friend. Yes! This is also one of the reasons I've always liked Colin, he is a cinnamon roll sweetheart who truly is a good friend which makes Penelope's crush on him a healthy choice.

OMG! The eyes bit! Yes, Penelope yes! See, she loves the kindness in Colin and she was vulnerable, even he needed a drink then! Ooh they put in the journal reading and hand cutting scene from the books! Yes, it was one of the scenes I loved! He is angry at her for seeing something so intimate, but he also is super close physically to her as well as a type of freedom that someone has seen his most intimate thoughts.

Ooh, hand twitching, he's definitely thinking of Penelope! Eloise is not wrong here, they are single and often unchaperoned, if they are really playing friends and leading to nothing it does not look right, but we know better! Aww, Polin laughing together! Yes, that is a horse joke! One thing I love about Polin is their mutual sense of humor at puns, jokes etc. They are both word nerds at heart and I love it.

Featheringtons and the lack of sex knowledge is a hoot! They are not my favorite people and side story, but I did cackle at that. Aww, I;m glad that Bridgerton is putting people in wheelchairs in the show! Yes and he's not a joke or anything, good for them! And Colin isn't judgmental or disapproving, score!

Ooof, damn you meddling mamas and gossiping bitches leave Penelope alone! And I am proud and clinging to the writers allowing Cressida to be a fully fleshed out person and not just a villain for not starting the gossip. Ooh, yes though on Colin defending Pen so heartily even to his own sister.

I knew Cressida wasn't the culprit! Yes, the writers are really trying to make Cressida a rounded out character and worthy of forgiveness or at least some understanding. I wonder what they are going to do for her as the season progresses... I think it might be a good look to turn things on its head and to put out the message that no one is irredeemable and etc.

The scene of Penelope at the window is so sad, even her mother doesn't believe she will get a husband and she was forced to write as Lady Whistledown about how pathetic she is. She herself knows how the game is played and how courtship works and this is not the way to get a husband, she's definitely in some deep darkness right now.

Then we get Colin coming over to check in on Pen! Ohh, she asked for a kiss! They started and now they are really going for it! Yeehaw! Squee! Omg! SO hot. The look in his eyes afterwards! Oh! I see where Colin is the prince being awakened by the kiss! Pen is like bye thanks for the kiss and it probably meant nothing to you so I won't make a thing out of it. And he is all I did it to be kind to my friend but it feels so good and right and HOT damn what am I feeling?? Yes, yes, yes!

I can't wait for the next two episodes! I'm living for this!

[delcat177]

Hiding behind the facade of a man will not make you any less a woman. It won’t heal you of your pain.

There’s nothing wrong with your body. Please stop hating yourself.

Oh boy, there's TONS of stuff wrong with my body. I've got asthma, allergies, the one bad eye, acid reflux like nobody's business (famotidine is good for it, I gotta say), intermittent costochondritis, hypothyroid, at least two enzymatic conditions, and I haven't been to a podiatrist in years so my Achilles' tendonitis is kinda out of control, my left leg is getting to the point where it's weaker than the right, I need a doc on that. Oh, and the BPPV, but that's a nuisance more than anything.

I assume you don't know any of this, because I assume you don't know me, or you would know that I don't have any interest in going out of my way to present masculine, so I can't "hurt my body" with it. I did have a full hysterectomy about a decade back, because from puberty my periods were very heavy, very long, very painful, and pulled the rug out on my OCD/anxiety/depression meds, leaving me incapacitated and weak. After a diagnosis of PMDD with probable endometriosis, long before I identified as trans, I lobbied to have the operation done for quality of life, and when I finally did--I can't begin to describe how much better I am now. I really, honestly can't, you would have to see me in my old bleeding-out days. I'm on estrogen to avoid early menopause, calcium for my bonebs. Following in my cis aunt's footsteps, actually, my maternal line has a lot of jank uterine DNA, and Mom used to talk about how Aunt M was lying in bed after *her* hysterectomy and going "I feel so much better, I feel so much better", and the ensuing health uptick after that. So, like, not gender related, people do get confused about that. No interest in surgeries w/r/t presentation.

That covers the physical section pretty well...uh, like I said, have the anxiety triad, but it's been covered for years as long as I get my meds on time, and I'm strong enough now to make the phone calls to make that happen. That's big for me, I really did have a lot of pain after my mom died, but in the years since, I feel like I've worked through what can be worked through in grief. It still crops up, but it's not paralytic. Same with the agoraphobia, I keep working on it and it keeps getting better. I'm volunteering once a week now, and I know that's small potatoes for most people, but with my energy issues, I'm proud of myself. I'm not sure how I feel about the prospect of having a job again in this market, just because I've been off the horse so long, but I'm certainly putting feelers out there, could use extra funds for when I go see my fiance.

So, I dunno, Doc...what was your name again? You are a doctor, right? Like, my doctor? Because I'm confused why anyone else would need to know this, and, now that I think about it, I'm a little confused because I don't recall hiring anyone for a check-up, but I'm doing okay. You do read the status forms I give you at med checks, right? I know there was an anxiety bump when I started volunteering, and not gonna lie, it's stressful, but I feel a lot more alive for it. More work, more walk, less weed, like we talked about.

Gosh, it really feels nice to talk things out with you. So, schedule out for three months, see what's happening then? I'm inevitably gonna postpone once because I forgot it was due and then potentially come in five minutes late because of that *ungodly* bus stop, but the important thing is we both know that. See you then, thanks so much!

[xspeter]

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝟎𝟎𝟒: “The beginning of the end.”

m.list ⇦ previous chapter next chapter ⇨

Y/N: The first solo album I released didn't do amazing, but it didn't do horrible either.

It didn't even bother me either. I didn't go on tour- the album didn't do good enough for that- and Shyla had gotten signed to a new record deal and she was going on tour in Europe, so I spent my time getting sunburns and getting high.

I also stopped writing songs. I didn't see a point to it if I already had an album out.

Brenner was checking on me all hours of the day, he wanted me to get new music out. He was doting on me like I was some sort of prize horse.

Then one day, Jim Hopper knocks on my door. I guess he was put in charge of me. He was supposed to convince to get back into the studio and make a new record.

When I open the door he doesn't even say hello. He just says, "Lets cut the bullshit, Y/N. You've gotta get your ass back in that studio, or Brenner's taking you to court for violating your contract."

I said, "I don't give a shit. They can take their money and leave me the fuck alone."

Hopper wasn't listening to any of my BS though. He says, "Just make the album, Y/N. Before you get yourself in some real trouble."

I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care if I was living in a car board box- as long as I had my drugs, I was fine. I just rolled my eyes at Hopper, and that's when he started getting fed up with my shit.

He says to me, "How do you see your life in ten years?" And, honestly, I don't think I saw myself being alive in ten years, so, I just shrugged my shoulders.

Hopper scoffed, he goes, "Well, if you get your ass in that studio, I see you being one of the most successful l women in the country."

The next day, I was writing music.

It only took me a few weeks to have my songs ready, so I call up Hopper and I said, "I'm ready."

Shyla: Y/N's second album wasn't anything special, it was kind of middle of the road, but you could definitely tell she was going somewhere.

Steve: We started recording our second album in 1985. And- I honestly think we were pretty proud of it. At least I was.

Jon: When I first heard the album, I didn't think it was as gritty as it needed to be. It was more pop than it was Rock n' Roll. Every song Steve wrote was about his family.

[Snorts] I mean, Murray said it best, "Rock n' Roll is about getting it on with a girl for the first time, not making sweet love to your wife.

Eddie: I thought we had a lot of songs that could be hit singles. But, Hopper disagreed. Everything was either too slow or not slow enough. Too hard rock or not rock enough.

Hopper finally told us that he thought we needed a female vocalist on one of the songs. Said we were needed to aim for number one, and a good way to do that was a duet.

Hopper said we should make "Look At Us Now" a duet, but, I just didn't understand why. He wanted to add a female vocalist to the softest song on the album, and that was supposed to fix the problem?

I said, "I will not be in a soft rock band."

Steve: "Look At Us Now" was about the life I wanted to give to Nancy. It was romantic. It was soft. It didn't need a female vocalist. But, Hopper didn't care. He just told me to write what Nancy would say back to me.

Robin: Hopper named around ten girls until Steve finally had enough. He goes, "Who is Y/N L/N?" Hopper smiles and goes, "I was hoping you'd ask that."

Eddie: I'd heard Y/N sing at this bar on the strip a few months back, and I thought she was sexy as hell. She has these huge eyes and these chunky hoop earrings. I mean, she just looked like a rock star.

Steve: Once we brought up Y/N, Hopper didn't really give us a choice if we wanted her to sing the song or not. If Hopper thought that she was the right person for it, then she was.

Y/N: I had heard of Silver Springs. I mean, obviously we were on the same label, but i'd heard one of their singles on the radio too.

I really loved Steves voice too. It was just... I don't even know how to explain it. It sounded like the voice of a man who'd seen things.

I could see the potential of our voices, could see how we'd match. So, I listened to their demo of 'Look At Us Now" and I just felt like something was missing. Like the song just wasn't really finished.

Steve: We were all at the studio the day Y/N walked in. I just remember getting this awful feeling in my stomach when I saw her. For one, she was barefoot and she was wearing this huge shirt that made it look like she didn't have any pants on.

Robin: When she walked in I remember thinking, Where are her pants?

Dustin: I remember thinking that Y/N was the prettiest girl I had ever seen.

Jon: I got worried for a second that I was staring at her, but then I thought, This girl has probably been stared at her whole life.

Steve: I saw her and I introduced myself, I said, "Nice to meet you. Thanks for helping us out." I asked if she wanted to sit down and go over the song, but she just said, "No, thanks."

Murray: She went right into the booth and started warming up.

Robin: I said, "We don't all need to be here watching her." But the shitheads ignored me.

Y/N: I finally just ended up asking for some space.

Steve: Everyone started funneling out after that, except, Me, Hopper, and Jerry.

Jerry Blue: I miked her up and we did a couple of test runs, but for some reason, the mic wasn't working. So Hopper said Steve and her would just share a mic.

Y/N: I read the lyrics to that song probably a hundred times. I knew how I wanted it to go.

Steve sang it in an almost desperate way, and I figured it was because he didn’t really believe what he was saying. And I thought that just made it so much more complex and interesting. So I planned to sing it like I wanted to believe him but I couldn’t.

When we were ready to get everything rolling, me and Steve step up to the mic we glanced at each other and then he started singing the opening.

The lyrics were originally, “Oh, I know we can get it all back, Oh, I know we can get it all back.” But that made the song feel you know, boring, to me. So, I changed it.

Steve: She changed the lyrics of my own song, and no one told me about it. She sand, “Oh, We can make a good thing bad.” But, to me that defeated the purpose of the song. The whole point was that I was telling Nancy that we would be able to get back to where we were. And Y/N ruined it.

Y/N: We’re in the middle of singing and he stops me. He goes, “Those aren’t the lyrics. Do you- do you know the lyrics? Do you need me to write them down?”

I knew the lyrics, he was the one who didn’t.

Robin: Steve wrote the song as a way to convince himself that his future with Nancy was a real thing. But we all knew he could relapse at any minute.

The first month he was out of rehab he was obsessed with woodworking. We’d come over to visit Nancy and the baby and he’d be working on some random dining table.

Oh, and then there was the running. He’s run at least five miles a day.

I mean, it was all getting a little ridiculous.

Murray: Steve was this guy who made everything look natural. But he was trying so very hard to stay sober, and you could see the strain it took on him.

Robin: “Look At Us Now” used to be a song about security. But Y/N made it a song about insecurity.

Steve: That night I told Nancy what Y/N did. And you know, Nancy’s got her hands full with Amber and i’m ranting about something that really didn’t matter.

She just said, “It’s a song, Steve.” And that’s made me realize that to me, it wasn’t just a song. My version was the future I wanted, and Y/N’s version was the future I was getting dangerously close to having.

Eddie: I think Y/N was just very unexpected for Steve.

Jerry: When we put their voices together, it was so compelling. It was like they were made for each other.

Jon: They took a rock song and they made it a pop song. I was a little pissed about it.

Murray: Hopper was over the moon when he listens to it, so was pretty much everyone else, but when Steve heard it, you could see the way his jaw clenched.

Steve: I liked the new song. But I felt like Y/N’s vocals just ruined the whole thing, so I asked Hopper to just take her out, but he said I needed to trust him. Said we had just written a hit song.

Eddie: Steve was always in charge you know? He wrote the lyrics, composed the instruments, arranged the songs. If Steve goes to rehab we have to cancel the tour, If steve wants to go back to the studio then so do we. He ran the show.

So what Y/N did to “Look At Us Now” was not easy for him.

Steve: We were a team.

Y/N: I wasn’t sure why Steve hated me so much. I made the song better, so why was he so upset?

I ran into Steve at the studio a couple days later when I went in to hear the final cut. I said hello, have him a smile, and all he did was nod.

Robin: It was a man’s world. You had to get a man’s approval to do pretty much anything and there was only really two ways to go about it.

You either acted like one of the boys, or you acted real girly and fluttered your lashes and all that shit.

But, Y/N didn’t do any of that. She was kinda just, “Take me or leave me.”

Y/N: All I wanted to do was make something original or cool and Steve didn’t like that.

Robin: You know how sometimes you’ll meet someone who just seems to breeze through life? Well, that was Y/N times ten. Maybe I should have hated her for that, but I didn’t. I loved her for it. With her around I felt like I didn’t have to take the shit i’d been taking from men for years.

Y/N: Robin was the kind of person who had more talent in the top of her pinky than most people have in their whole body.

Steve: When the record was about to be pressed, I told Hopper, “You made me hate my own song.” And you know what he said back to me? He said, “You’ll get over it.”

listened to fleetwood mac the whole time I wrote this

@brxkenartt @freezaz123

[jowritesfanfiction]

Thank you to @daryfromthefuture for tagging me in this!

How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie? 7 times. Once was with a friend who’d never seen it (they really enjoyed it).

Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what! I think I got some t-shirts, but I can’t remember which ones. (I have a lot of bttf shirts lol)

How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year? None. I don’t like carbonated drinks :/

What was a favorite bttf fanfic you read this year? Despite the Distance by @knickynoo. That fic wrecked me in the best way and I think about it at least once a month.

A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!) This piece of fanart by @future-boi. I love it sm. (Now look who’s being annoying /j)

Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of? Oh gosh. I worked on quite a lot of fics. I think I’m most proud of working on my current WIP: Someday We’ll Find It. It’s been really hard writing it and getting time to write it, but I’ve just been chipping away.

How many times were you late for school this year? None.

Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them? I watched MJF’s documentary Still, Atlantis: The Lost Empire, and Clue. I’m not sure if this counts, but I watched Zombieland: Double Tap which has Lea Thompson’s daughter in it (absolutely iconic in that movie btw).

Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year? I don't usually listen to Huey Lewis, but I listened to some songs from the bttf soundtrack while studying and those had Huey Lewis.

How many times did you fall down this year? I genuinely have no idea. I don’t think I fell down this year— at least from what I can remember.

Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like! I did not see the musical.

How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met? At least twice that I can remember off the top of my head.

If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be? “If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything!” I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. I worked really hard this year and accomplished a lot. There were a lot of times where things did not go how I wanted them to, but I still put effort into making something out of it. I usually tend to focus on negativity and all the things I didn't accomplish, but writing this out really helped me remember a lot of the things I did accomplish.

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a Delorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year? I think I'm going to work on just letting things happen. I can be quite a control freak and obsess over things going the way I want perfectly, which never happens. I'm going to work hard, but whatever happens from it, happens. And maybe work on being more assertive, but ehhhhh.

I shall tag @future-boi and anyone else who wants to join!

[purlturtle]

10 (Books on your reading list), 11 (Something on your wish list), 27 (What fascinates you about humanity)? :)

10. I have no reading list.

I am just, *just*, getting back into reading. After oh, about five years of zero new books at all, only re-reads and fanfic, I resolved to try and read one (1) book this year, just try. I am fucking PROUD to say I'm on book 5 - I read the first four Percy Jackson novels, and they were easy to read, and fun to follow. No, hang on: book six! I also read "Leaving is not the only way to go" from our own @kla1991! And really liked that too!

I got both attention burnout and then got burned on a book everybody loved and hyped and I hated. So the fact that I'm even reading at all, for fun, with enjoyment, is celebration-worthy enough. I don't want to spoil that by having a TBR pile that looks at me disapprovingly for not being fast enough. Once I finish with Percy, I'll just seek out the next book then. Probably something sapphic :) but beyond that, I really don't want to settle on anything now.

11. I have reached that stage in my life where I don't really wish for a lot of material things; I'm pretty financially stable so if I want to buy something, I typically do. Other things are so unrealistic right now that I don't want to wish for them, for fear of despairing: I'd love to go on vacation, but my mental health situation does not lend itself to that. Like, I want to be alone, do just what *I* want all day - but when I tried that last September, booked myself into a holiday home on my own, it was full of spiders and I had a nervous breakdown because I'm phobic and no one could make them go away for me. I'd love to go to Japan or Vietnam or Thailand, or visit my wife's family in the US, but the thought of traveling there is sensory horror. You'd have to knock me out Mister T style! 😅 So, y'know. Unrealistic, all of it. If I could wish for that to be different, then yeah maybe, but that's more of a "genie grants you three wishes" thing than "put it on my wish list for Christmas" thing 😂

27. how we are all different and all alike. I don't want to wax more philosophical right now, because I fear I might fall into cynicism if I do. I'd rather cling to that thing where we're all human. Smiling at each other in a grocery store aisle or smiling from the bus seat at kids horsing around at the bus stop. Rescuing snails in parking lots. Kindness without witness, without reward, Doctor-style.

thanks for all of these, Lil! (here's the full list)

[3m0t10nal-cr1s1s]

Very curious about what the Mu third gen personalities are like, there designs are very cute and pretty

Hiii thanks for the question!! I worked really hard on their designs and colors so I'm really glad you like them! Personality ramble under the cut cause it's quite long. Also, spoilers ahead for the FMC storyline.

From oldest to youngest:

Mu Beiyan: In my mind, a lot of pressure has been put on Beiyan ever since he was a kid, and even more so after he became the crown prince. He feels obligated to succeed, not only for his parents and family, but for the empire as well, so he always tries to finish his assignments and solve problems as effectively and efficiently as possible. As his father would have.

Even though, deep in his heart, he doesn't want to be emperor and wants to go back to those days of playing with Lingxi and flying kites, he knows that those days are over, and he needs to grow up if he's going to inherit the throne. He's still playful and a bit childish buried deep underneath the more responsible, serious, and often sleep deprived exterior. Even though he's been praised from every direction, Beiyan still feels inadequate and feels that other officials and even Xiurong would make a better emperor than he would.

Mu Lingxi: Lingxi's Doukou redesign is what kickstarted this whole thing. I imagine she's more refined and more confident than she was as a child. A true lady that her mom would be proud of. She greatly respects Ling Ruo and Xu Rongyuan and is often torn inbetween becoming a female official and being a physician.

She still loves tanghulu and bunnies and is kind and cheerful and still a bit of a cry baby. She also misses the days when she was a child and things were simpler, but she also understands that she has grown a lot. Mostly, she misses Beiyan. He's grown so busy that they can't see each other as often as they once did. She often tries to have tea parties with he cousins but the only ones who show up consistently are Jinghua, Jingfei and Hualing.

Mu Jinghua: Jinghua is the oldest of the two twins, mostly referred to as A-hua by her mother and brother. She comes off as mean-spirited and haughty at first, using her appearance as a leverage and generally acting above many of the nobles, but it's all an act she puts on as she's wary of other palace folk. Her branch of the family is looked down upon because of the stunts her father tried to pull to take the throne.

If you get to know her, she's actually kind and clumsy. The definition of sweet, if a bit gloomy. She feels that she's stifled as a noble lady and wants to do more with her life, but she's scared of change and wonders if anyone will accept her, even if she's the daughter of Mu Lingfeng. She wants to be something, anything, other than his daughter.

Mu Jingfei: Jingfei is the younger of the two twins, mostly referred to as A-fei by his mother and sister. Jingfei doesn't put on the same mean exterior Jinghua does. He mostly spends his time at the Ginkgo institution, being mentored by Xiao Qian and Xu Rongyuan so he's not around nobles as often as his sister is. Most people coming in don't care about his parentage and just wants to be treated.

He's a giant sap and always wants the best for his patients. He often worries about them long after his shift had ended. He's definitely more sensitive than Jinghua. Even still, he resents his father greatly and refuses to address him as 'father' at all. He's seen how the burden of the throne weighs on Beiyan and questions if that was what Mu Lingfeng wanted, and if he had successfully taken the throne, would Jingfei be put in Beiyan's position? Would Jinghua be in Lingxi's?

Mu Xiurong: From a young age, Xiurong has been taught by her mother how to think critically, get out of messy situations with her words and deal with court affairs and drama. At the same time, she was being taught by her father on how to ride a horse, wield a weapon and how to defend herself. For these reasons, she's always kept to herself and put on a blank face to prevent people from predicting her next move, whether that be mental or physical. She wants to make both her parents proud, even if she's young.

She's very loving and worries about her younger brother and Beiyan often. Since she's aiming to become a court official like her mother, she's often the one by Beiyan's side during the day and deal with situations with him. Xiurong doesn't like to think of the relationship between her and her brother as a rivalry, but occasionally will give Renshu a reason to keep trying to surpass her in skill, just because it's funny. She actually can't participate in much strenuous activity since she has a bad leg.

Mu Renshu: Growing up, Renshu was given all of the same opportunities as his older sister was, but whenever his mother taught him he quickly became bored and would want to go outside to train. That quickly changed when his mother mentioned something about Xiurong being easier to teach for both her and Lingchuan and suddenly, Renshu was determined to surpass his sister in something. Even though they have a three year age difference and he'll have a lot of catching up to do.

He's stubborn and unrelenting, if a bit childish and immature. Even though he knows he wields a sword better than Xiurong, it doesn't change the fact that she can ride horses better and has better handwriting. His one sided rivalry is mostly in good fun, but sometimes, he does get discouraged that Xiurong is looked upon more favorably than he is. Still, he worries about her and often asks how her health is.

Mu Hualing: Hualing was adopted by Xu Rongyuan in an impulse decision. A patient of his had died in childbirth and her family was unwilling to take the baby, since it was illegitimate. Rongyuan and Linghao is trying to raise Hualing the best they can, asn she loves them, and recognizes them as her dads. She's unaware of her actual parentage but she knows she's adopted.

Hualing, or 'Lingling' (as in the sound of a bell) as nicknamed by her family, often follows her cousins around if she's not in school or doing homework. If she's following her cousins around, it often means she's avoiding school work. She curious and inquisitive with a love of Osmanthus cake and anything that could be made into a percussion instrument. She finds Jinghua quite fascinating, copying hairstyles in an attempt to be close to her. Jinghua things it's adorable.

Also these alignment charts I made because I thought it'd be funny

[bonesandthebees]

Have I mention I love the Sandduo in this? I am getting FED. it almost feels like Phil is just keeping busy while waiting for Wilbur to get to him. It could also be that Wilbur’s intel is more important than whatever he was doing.

And they get straight to business. It goes: how was the tour -> to Ranboo cut it short, but they will be useful -> Tomys has trouble keeping his mouth shot -> to the specific intel that Tomys does not know why he’s at the palace. It’s very efficient to the point it becomes clear that Wilbur has probably done this a lot, if not about info he gather somewhere then because Phil probably drilled him in learning to observe and made him recall and analyse everything he saw at certain occasions.

I love the scheming though. And Phil is so proud. He’s also laugh at his son for being offended (which, kinda bad parenting since it invalidates Wilbur’s feelings, whether or not he’s correct to be offended). Phil does get past how funny it is to because Wilbur is reacting very strongly to how annoying is (which is because of the subconscious jealousy and the fact Phil would have probably scolded him to hell and back if he’d said that to someone at 13).

Side note: I am totally not looking at Phil’s hypocrisy with [“I think you’re judging him a bit harshly. He’s thirteen.”] when we know his son was already observing council meetings at that age. Like double standard much. (Yes, I’m getting very defensive of Rose!Wilbur, he has issues and I’m here for it, but man poor kid.)

[A beat passed. Phil sighed and moved his shoulder away. / “You’ll have to learn to put up with it, because I want you to try and befriend him.”] again, disappointment when Wilbur get too stuck in his own feelings about Tomys to do what Phil wants a realise the opportunity presented to him and befriend the kid.

And it’s so interesting to see the relationship flip like that. To see how fast it goes from warm and a proud father to cold and disappointment. It once again emphasises how much Wilbur will do for his father’s approval. And it will be very interesting to see how far he’s really willing to go and how much a blind eye he will turn. He knows befriending Tomys to use his is wrong, but he’ll still do it, even though he’d rather have someone else do the dirty work and not think about the moral implications.

[Another thing they both knew: Phil said he couldn’t force him to do this, but there was no real choice here. He was his father’s son, after all.] I don’t know how long ago this chapter came out, but just know I have been losing my mind about this sentence since the chapter came out. The implications, Bee. The implications! On one side it’s the unspoken truth that Phil always gets his way and Wilbur will do anything for his father’s approval. On the other it’s the fact that, just like his father, Wilbur wants to be good at the game and get every advantage. So he will play dirty to get what he wants and show down his own emotions to do it.

2 more lines: [You have an advantage here, and you’d be a fool not to use it,” Phil said, his eyes like chips of ice as he stared Wilbur down.] Harsh and manipulative and getting exactly the result Phil wanted.

[“I’ll play nice with Tomys.”] This makes my skin crawl. And Phil going back to approval, but Wilbur still feeling cold because it’s not something he wants to do is so good. He’s still just a pawn in the game to his father, even if he’s his favourite pawn and the horse he’s banked all his money on.

That concludes chapter 2. I will be back another time for chapter 3.

(5/5)

-🌲

I'm so glad you're loving the sandduo there's so much of it coming your way

oh phil does have plenty to do believe me, but he's just eager to know what wilbur found out about the new potential heir as soon as possible.

I'll confirm they've done this before. phil has been training wilbur in intel gathering since he was a kid. after all, when you're hosting a ball where you get to ply a bunch of very important nobles with fine wine, it's much easier to get information out of them once they're sufficiently drunk if you're an innocent looking 12 year old kid compared to, say, the right hand to the king.

in total fairness, wilbur is being dramatic and way overreacting to tommy's comment. niki and quackity have both made jokes about his height before and he doesn't mind them, it's just that he specifically is annoyed by tommy doing it because he wants to be petty and phil can tell.

there's definitely some subconscious jealousy there though. god knows wilbur would've gotten an earful if he did half the things tommy did in that first day at his age. phil's very much being a hypocrite with the "he's only thirteen" argument but at the same time phil is thinking of it more in the sense of tommy is thirteen and wasn't raised for this lifestyle, as opposed to wilbur who he's been mentoring in these kinds of political games since he was old enough to first understand them.

wilbur's morality in this is very interesting because while he's plenty aware of certain things being wrong, he doesn't actually... care all that much? of course you could argue he just doesn't want to disappoint his father, which is very true, but even though he can see the moral issue with befriending tommy just to use him he doesn't actually have a real problem with it. there's a lot of things you'll see that wilbur knows logically are wrong, but he doesn't actually care all that much about.

so glad that line made you insane I wrote it and was like ohhhhh that's it there we are. wilbur is his father's son. he's going to do what his father asks. he's doing everything he can to become a mirror image of his father. he's already more like phil than he realizes.

:))) so glad you enjoyed!! these were very fun for me to read thank you

[pbandjesse]

We are driving back home. The memorial service was thankfully more about supporting each other. I did not cry. If I think about it to hard I might. But I made it through a day that could have been a disaster but worked out because I made it happen. Im only a little proud of that.

I did not sleep great. I fell asleep easier then expected. But woke up with James's alarm and I couldn't fall back asleep. I was anxious about the day. I would get up at 7 when my brother texted me and I had to ask James to handle that while I got ready.

I would feel alright. A little absent of myself. Like I look in the mirror and I'm not connecting to my own eyes. That happens sometimes. But I tried to look good and was happy with my face and hair. The trim I gave myself last night I think helped.

James changed our sheets while I finished getting myself together. Then we hugged and I was off.

I forgot to bring any breakfast and I didn't want to stop anywhere. I also forgot the keys to the art building. But I was not interested in going inside. So I just didn't. I would make it work when I got to camp.

It was a nice drive. And I got there right before 8. And I got to be helpful right away because there was a guy at the bottom of the hill who was lost.

He was there to reseed the field but it was literally his third day and he was a little confused and wasn't given enough info. So I'm glad I was able to help. Once I got parked at the art building I walked down to the office and got Heather on the phone and she told me to send him to the feild. And I was able to help him figure out how to get his truck over there. We walked the feild together and I opened the fence.

While I waited for him to drive around I went to see if we had cake left in the freezer. Which we did so I was excited for breakfast cake. And then I called the doctor's.

They were really nice about it and changed my appointment to 1. So I could stay at camp until 1230. They were really chill about it. Which would be surprising later when I found out that everyone who normally comes on Monday came today because of the holiday (including me) and so they had twice as many patients as normal. And we're training two new injection people. So it was quite a day and I appreciate how kind they were getting my appointment changed.

I would help lawn guy move all the astroturf and collected any sports equipment I could find. And let him know I would be on the porch if he needed anything.

I went down to the office and set myself up at the table. I used my phone's hotspot since I couldn't get on the wifi with the door locked. But that's fine. I ate my, still mostly frozen, cake and worked on my laptop.

I finished tightening up a few things in my lesson plans and making sure the supply list was good to go. I would start making a list of where the tribes were speaking about are on the continent so I could circle that on the different maps. So each program will have a visual for where they are speaking about. Which I think will help them figure out what different natural resources would be available.

Heather would show up around then. She said we need to get me an office key. I'm not to worried about it. I will probably be more worried when it's cold out. Though I was really sweaty and was happy to get some AC.

Heather would help me get on the wifi and showed me how to scan things to my laptop. And then would spend the next hour working on my maps.

Lou, Alexi's dad, would come to talk to Heather about horses. Continues to forget who I am but remembered James. Handsome Jimmy as he call them. We talked about his granddaughter who is maybe going to Temple. For field hockey. So I got to talk about the nice things about philly. That was fun.

I would take a walk to the art building with the extra key. I put away the stuff I brought. And then took a walk to the nature center but it was locked. Heather likes my idea about the snail tank but we need to find the key to the building. Joe probably had it but he wasn't around. Maybe tomorrow I'll figure that out.

Heather would have me start collecting some emails. Which was not as straight forward as I was expecting. But I got some at least. And once I was at a good stopping point me and Heather went on a walk to woodlands.

We would write a list of things that I could work on down there. Painting. Creating. Cleaning. Moving furniture. It was nice to talk through the projects and the spaces. I'm pretty happy about it. But I was also starting to get slightly a little stressed about needing to leave for my appointment.

We would finish up exactly on time though. We got back to the office. Where Elizabeth and Alexi were and I said hello and then goodbye!

I stopped to fill my water and then I drove the 40 minutes to the rhumatologist. I got there 1 minute before my appointment.

Not that it mattered. They had my paperwork at the bottom of the pile, because I'm the last one usually. And they would get me back quick. But I could hear everything. And that's when I heard that they were crazy busy and backed up. So I would have a wait. About 49 minutes. Ah well.

The nice lady came and did my injections though and they hurt a bit today. But it's fine. I was glad it was done. I made my appointment for next month. And was out the door before 2.

I stopped over at the Dunkin and got munchkins to share with James. And then home.

When I got back to the house I was excited that there were packages. The screen protector came for my tablet. And a new dress I ordered. And a book. I found James trying to iron their shirt but the iron wasn't actually on so that was funny.

I got overheated trying to put the screen protector on. But I did my best and it's mostly correct. I'm just glad it's safer now. I was super sweaty though.

So I took a shower. And got dressed again. James made me a bagel. And I had an hour to just sit and calm down before we had to be on the road again.

We left at 345. And it wasn't a bad drive at all. We didn't have to deal with any traffic. We weren't driving directly into the sun. I was anxious but only a little. I brought my knitting and completed one square. We passed Jess's exit and we waved. We arrived in the town at 530.

We went to Wawa for gas. James felt weird that someone pumped our gas. But that's just jersey. And then we went inside and got sandwiches to eat in the car.

I was mostly just focusing on being with my husband. And that I was looking forward to hugging my family. I couldn't handle the other emotions. Those are very deep and I can't focus on them or I'll fall apart.

When we got to the funeral home I was convinced we were in the wrong place. There were a lot of people and I didn't recognize anyone so I was sure I messed up. And then my mom and my brother weren't answering me so I was sure I messed up.

But thankfully Steve would pull up and my parents and Felicia were with him. Everything was alright again.

And it was a lot of people. Sabrina's friends. Audrey's friends. AA people. Bikers. People in memorial sweatshirts. Which the turnaround in having that made was impressive.

We went in the line to see all the pictures of Sabrina. I forgot how dark her hair was when she was younger. Seeing all the pictures of her with friends. She looked so grown up.

Hugging everyone helped. Audrey and Nadine both kept saying thank you to me and James for coming. For driving so long. But honestly the only thing I could say was I wish I didn't have to be here. I wish this didn't happen. But there wasn't a chance I wasn't going to be here. I moved things to make sure I would be. It was important.

There was no service. I am glad. I would have lost it. Instead it was just everyone talking and supporting each other. It was good to be around all the people who loved Sabrina. And I particularly loved talking to my brother and Felicia. And I missed them both and it was just so nice to talk to them. The little moments feel so important. I am very worried how swollen my brother's hands were. He might have an infection from slamming his hand in a door and also poison ivy?? I hope he sees someone.

I also was glad to be with my parents. To talk to my aunt Nadine and uncle Dave who I love so much.

There was a lot of hugging. A lot of laughing. We were being as ridiculous as we normally are when we are all together. The Lentzs don't know how to now start talking about things that are probably not appropriate. We can't stop laughing when it's probably not appropriate. We supported each other by not talking about it but talking about everything else.

I enjoyed hearing about who was who from mom. And I told Nadine they need to come visit us. They went on a not great bus tour through Baltimore so I hope we can give them a better tour soon!!

But then it was time to go. The memorial was slowing down. People were leaving. We had many hugs. Nadine gave me a rose form the large bouquet. Me and Sabrina shared that middle name. I will dry some of the petals. I'll frame them.

Me and James got in the road. And we are about half way home now. I am going to finish my sandwich. And listen to this podcast. And try to just think about the good stuff. I love Sabrina and I will keep her in my thoughts forever.

I hope you are all taking care of yourselves. I love you all. Goodnight my friends. Until next time.

[skinnydippingsmile]

Peaky Blinders snippet

Thomas Shelby meets Zelda at the fair, trying to forget his past relationship with my mc- Mariana

A take on what Tommy and Zelda’s meeting could have been like

"Feeling lucky today boys?" A girl asked, approaching us with a smile

She was a gypsy girl through and through

With dark hair half pinned up, hoops dangling from her ears and a seductive look in her eye

She was trained to bring in customers, that was obvious.

"Maybe, why?" Freddie grinned

"We have a competition going, throw that bag over there the furthest and you win, and with big arms like you boys, I doubt you'll have any trouble" she said, running her ringed hand up my arm

She was good, I'll give her that

Distracting with her charm and smile

But it takes a kidder to know one

"No thanks, we're not here to play games" I said

She shrugged

"Fine, be a spoilsport" she teased, before slipping between the two of us to leave.

But I grabbed her arm, stopping her

"I'll have my cigarettes back though" I said, receiving a glare from her

She held her ground, before realising I wasn't messing around, and pulling them from her top

"Fine" she said, handing them over

Before leaving once again

"She's... something" Freddie commented, watching her leave

"Yeah, untrained" I said, she wasn't subtle at all.

But as I put my cigarettes back into my pocket, I looked down and realised

I had been played

She had taken my fucking pocket watch

The one Mar bought me.

"Where is she?" I asked, looking behind us

That was her ploy then, when you steal something and someone catches you, they don't assume you've stolen anything else

People always stop at one, they always have the confidence they caught a thief early.

"Uh, left at the horses, why?" Freddie asked

"She took my fucking watch" I said, going after her

I rushed down the direction she went, catching sight of her at the end of a row of stalls, before she looked back and caught on that I had realised.

She raced off, so I chased her

She hopped the gate out of the field and into another one, so I followed her, down a hill and across a small wooden bridge before I finally caught her

And pinned her against a large tree

She smiled at me, trying to catch her breath

"You're fast, for a townie" she laughed

"I'm not a townie" I said

I was Romani, like my mother.

I'd grew up on the road, in these fields, I knew how to scam someone and I knew how to deal with scammers.

"Give it back" I said

"Or what?" She asked

"Give it back" I demanded

"It's just a watch, what makes it so special?" She chuckled, pulling it out of her top, I reached to grab it but she held it up over her head

"Not so fast, what's it worth?" She asked

"Not a lot" I lied

"Must be for you to want it back so much" she said

"I don't like being stolen from" I said.

"And I don't like being chased" she smiled

"Just give it, and I'll leave" I said

"Hmmm no" she smirked

"I think I'll hang onto it" she said, tucking it into her bra

"Fuck sake" I cursed.

"You want it? You get it" she said

It was clear what she wanted

She wanted to play games, she wanted to fuck and she thought she was doing a good job at seducing me

When in reality, I was just happy not to be thinking about my problems, and I wanted my watch back

So I gave her what she wanted

I grabbed the side of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss

She responded easily, grabbing onto my shoulders and kissing me back just as hard

I wasn't proud of myself right now

I felt shameful as I pushed her up against the tree and fucked her

And I tried my hardest to think of her

To think of anything.

But my mind kept going back to Mariana

The way it always fucking did

And when she finally came, I was just glad it was over

I sat down by the tree, trying to catch my breath as she sat beside me, resting her head on my shoulder

I didn't want her beside me

I didn't want her to touch me

I just wanted my fucking watch back so I could leave.

To read more or the lead up, head to wattpad

Queen- Prequel- Joyce2205

[annaphoenix1994]

Masterlist:

By Your Grace

“I’m aware of everything that’s wrong with me; But you still accept me anyway; I live with a past I can’t get past and it still haunts me; By your grace I have hope; You’ve already paid every debt I owe; Please take my chains and make me see that by your grace I’ve been set free.”

“By Your Grace” by Cody Johnson

October 19th, 2022

Mia returned home from taking Ella to school to see Michael waiting for her, seeing Lilo and Harlow tacked up for a morning ride. She smiled, exiting the truck and walking to him, "What're you up to, birthday boy?"

"Waiting on you," He smiled. "This is all I want to do for my birthday: be with you."

"What about Ella?" She giggled playfully.

"Her, too, but you know it's okay to want to spend quality alone time together," Michael answered, reaching his hand out to her, thinking about how he was going to ask her the one thing he had been wanting to ask her since she saved him - saved him from himself as he was on a dark road and had been for forty years. "You coming?"

Mia nodded, "I'm going to put my purse in the house. I'll be back."

"I'll be here." He said, taking a quick glance at her left hand, eager to see how it was going to change.

Once Mia returned, he stayed on the ground while Mia mounted Lilo before he mounted Harlow. He still wouldn't admit that he was comfortable riding horses, afraid that he'd embarrass himself in front of her, but he grew confident over the years, especially with a horse that was patient with him. "So, where are we going?"

"Just riding today," He chuckled. "Haven't done it with you in a while."

She smiled, "It's your day. You can do whatever you want and I'll follow."

"I hope you can follow fast." He said, glancing back at her before nudging Harlow into a canter, waiting on Mia to start following. She laughed as Lilo didn't hesitate to catch up. Wind swept through her hair, watching Michael turn his ballcap backward as they raced through the open field, going directly towards the incline that led to their favorite spot: the ridge.

With a scenic view of the landscape and property line, autumn made Montana its masterpiece. Almost as if it were stuck in time where the land was never yet settled. The west was still wild.

"I never knew you were so good at running away," Mia breathed, slowing Lilo to a trot alongside Michael's horse. "You ride like a true cowboy now." She laughed.

"I had no choice but to," He replied. "And Simon needs my help sometimes working cows, so I had to learn to ride really well for that."

"I'm proud of you, Michael. You've come a long way since we first met." She complimented, dismounting Lilo as she and Michael walked towards the large boulder that doubled as a bench as they looked over the landscape while the horses grazed behind them.

"Honestly, I never thought I would see the light of day again when I got locked up," He sighed. "Can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything, Michael.

"I think it's time I tell you what happened - what happened that night..."

"About recently?-"

"No, about when I killed my sister."

"...Oh," Mia replied, surprised. "Only if you're comfortable."

She knew it was a sensitive subject for him as well as a subject he always avoided, but was surprised that he chose now to tell her about it as she couldn't help but wonder if he had been feeling guilty about the crimes he had committed. Or perhaps about what demons he had been living with all of those years.

Michael huffed, his eyes fixating on the landscape before him, picking a random tree to focus on while he regained his thoughts, "My father was a drunk. He always would yell at me or my sister, especially my mother. It lit a fire inside of me every time I saw him raise his hand at them, to hear them cry, to hear them yell. I felt isolated in a way. My father never seemed to want me around. He always shrugged me away. I was only six, so I didn't understand why he was the way he was. Judith was... well, she was about the same, I guess, except she was nicer about it. No matter how mad it made me to see my father hit her, I still resented her even more because he was easier on her than he was me and my mother. Maybe it was because she was older, I don't know. My mother always did things with me - always. She never thought twice. I guess... in a way, I began to grow jealous that my sister was getting better attention from my father than I was. It's truly an answer I can't explain or come up with, but that night when I...you know... Judith really said something to get on my bad side. Her and dad both. He and mom got into an argument and he said he was taking her somewhere. I felt denied, as usual. Something in me snapped that night. Everything went blank and I just...did what I did," He explained, shaking his head, not even feeling Mia grasp his hand as she truly listened to him. "I never knew what happened to my mother, but I can't help but assume the worst."

Mia frowned, "Can I ask you something?"

Michael hummed.

"How do you know Laurie?"

He cringed to himself at the name - the cursed name that brought him nothing but agitated memories and a job unfinished. "I escaped Smith's Grove and went straight back to Haddonfield. She was the only person who saw me for who I really was and I didn't want it to be that way. I didn't want anybody to see me for who I was, so I wanted to kill her."

"Michael, you know you're not the evil you think you are, right?"

"I may not be now, but that part of me is always there."

"Michael, you're wrong - you're a good man with good intentions. You were just on a bad road-"

"Mia, come here," He said, gesturing for her hand and leading her to where she was straddling his lap, his hands resting on her hips as her arms draped over his shoulders. "I'm still on a bad road, but with you here, you're just guiding me to stay out of the traffic," He chuckled at Mia's giggle. "I tried to make it sound romantic, but I've never had much luck with that."

"That's okay, Michael. I never expected you to be William Shakespeare." She smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"There's one thing you can expect of me."

"And what's that?"

"To be yours. Forever."

"I always knew that, Michael."

"Well, I hope that with this...it really shows how much I love you," He explained, fumbling around in his pocket before revealing a small, blue velvet box.

Mia's jaw couldn't help but drop at the sight below her. "Michael, I...-"

She watched as he opened the box, revealing the diamond ring nestled between the foam folds within the box. It was perfect. "You don't have to say anything - I just wanted to show you how much I love-"

Mia didn't let him finish his sentence before her lips crashed onto his. I think that's a yes, Michael thought. He chuckled into the kiss, his left hand gripping onto her hip tighter. "You know I don't need a ring to show I'm yours forever." She said, leaning back to look at him.

"I know, but I wanted to give you something to show it." He replied, taking the ring from the box as her left hand sat comfortably in his.

She watched as he slowly slid the ring on her finger, the diamond glistening in the sun as it complimented her very well. "It's so beautiful." She said, fighting a strong urge to sob relentlessly.

"As soon as I saw it, I knew it was yours."

"So that's why you were so eager for me to go out of town!" She giggled.

"How else would I have pulled it off?" He chuckled, looking down at how the ring glistened on her finger.

"So, how would we pull this off? I mean, getting married and everything-"

"I know it'll be very hard and near impossible. If you want to get married, then I'll make it work, but I'm just asking you to be mine forever because I know I can make that work."

Mia grinned, rewarding him with another kiss, "Of course I'll be yours forever. That much is promised even without this ring. I would love to get married, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Good. I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I, baby."

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Later that same evening, Mia insisted on taking Michael and Ella out to dinner for his birthday. He had never been to Texas Roadhouse before, so Mia definitely wanted him to have the once-in-a-lifetime experience of the crew singing 'happy birthday' to him and rewarding him with a free dessert. It's was also not too far from where they lived, only about thirty minutes or so just within the city limits of Billings.

"I'm wondering why we never came here before," Michael commented, taking another bite from his steak. "This place is good."

"Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't founder on those rolls." Mia giggled, sipping on her favorite mixed drink: Kenny's Cooler. (Author's note: they're really good!!)

"I could live off of them. Remind me to ask for some to-go."

Mia scoffed playfully and rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink before tearing a roll into pieces for Ella sitting next to her.

The small family continued to enjoy their dinner until four employees surrounded the table, each of them carrying a sly smirk on their faces. Mia couldn't help but giggle at Michael's reaction, seeing his eyes get wide and his jaw clench in nervousness. In a way, she felt bad for putting him on the spot, but she knew he would just laugh it off later and possibly punish her in the bedroom, so she definitely didn't mind embarrassing him every now and then.

Besides, he'd do the same to her.

In fact, he did the exact same to her when it was her birthday at a different restaurant.

Sorry, baby, but you did the same to me. Revenge is a bitch! Mia thought playfully. "Who's birthday is it?" The female server asked, giggling at how Michael immediately pointed to Ella, watching her nervously scoot closer to Mia.

"Don't let him lie to you. It's his birthday." Mia laughed, watching his face turn red as she removed her phone from her purse.

Michael shook his head before the female server spoke, "I'm sorry, sir, but your wife already told us it was your birthday!" She joked.

"Oh, God." Michael sighed, turning his head to the left, desperately trying to hide the smirk on his face as this was all new to him. Aside from his mother, Mia was the only one who acknowledged his birthday.

"AAAATTTTENNNTIIION TEXAS ROADHOUSE!" The server shouted, getting, quite frankly, everyone's attention in the restaurant. Mia couldn't help but laugh as she videoed him, seeing not only the embarrassment on his face, but he reminded her of an embarrassed toddler. "I have a very special birthday guest with me! Everyone here say hi to Michael, who is turning sixty-five today! So on the count of three, I'll need you to stop what you're doin', swallow what you're chewin' and give me your loudest and proudest Texas-sized yeehaw! One, two, three, YEEHAW!"

"Happy birthday, man," One of the male servers joining the band said, patting his shoulder. "Just tell the waitress what dessert you want and it's on the house."

"Oh, thank you," Michael nodded, watching the band of servers walk away before looking at Mia, who was still smiling at him. "I'm going to kill you." He chuckled.

"Yeah, right!" She scoffed playfully. "You just had the time of your life when you told that waiter when it was my birthday. At least they didn't make you sit on that saddle like they made me!"

"You have a point." He nodded.

"So, what do you want for your dessert?" She asked.

"You and Ella get what you want-" He waved his hand before returning to his steak.

"You don't want ice cream or anything?"

He shook his head, pointing to Ella's bright eyes at the word ice cream once Mia said it with his fork, "I think we both know who'll be eating the ice cream if they bring it. Besides, what I want isn't on the menu."

Mia furrowed her brows in confusion before looking at him, seeing the gleam in his eyes looking back at her before watching him glance down at her ring. Then she came to the realization...

He wanted her.

[2dmenenthusiast]

"It's certainly Heaven if you're here, Darlin'."

(John Marston x Gn!Reader)

Holy shit it's finished!!! I literally started this fic back in MARCH. But you know what it's my longest fic ever and I'm proud of it. Also There is SMUT in this bad boy, so it might be ass, just a warning. But I hope ya'll enjoy!

ALSO Abigail is with everyone at the end but I genuinely forgot to add her lmaoo

Reblogs and feedback are always encouraged and appreciated!!

Summary: You're life with John was constantly filled with ups and downs. Hopefully you can both make it together in one piece.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings/other info: SMUT (if you want to skip it, it's right after John says I love you for the first time), description of injury, swearing, uhh Arthur and Kieran live because I said so, reader is gender nuetral as always.

“Hey, would you- ow!”

“Well stop flinching, ya fool!”

John sighed as you scolded him, lightly slapping at his chest before continuing to sew up the gashes on his face. He winced every time the needle pushed through his skin, the hand that rested on your knee squeezing every so often as he tried not to think about the pain.

“I’m almost finished,” you muttered, carefully pushing his soaked hair out of his face and rolling the needle between your thumb and finger a few times, making sure you had a good hold on it since your fingers felt numb from the cold. He watched you as you worked, eyes trained on the way your lips pressed together when you concentrated, your brows slightly furrowed. If he felt shitty before, he felt even more so now. He could deal with Abigail scolding him for being stupid, but he couldn’t take the worried look you had when his injured body was pulled off of Javier’s horse and into the house, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. But you didn’t cry. You turned to Jack and let him know his daddy was going to be okay, put on a brave face so his boy wouldn’t worry about his idiot of a father. You were… something else.

Gently lifting John’s head, you carefully wrapped gauze around his wounds once you finished stitching him up, making sure it was secure around his head. “Now, for the rest of our time up here, do you think you could possibly not get yourself into any more trouble?” you asked, resting your hand on John’s chest.

“‘Course, Darlin’. Don’t think I could manage to get up to much while I’m laying here.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d figure out a way.”

Your lips quirked up in a smile, a sight John loved to see, and he brought a hand up to rest it over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Think you could stay for a bit?”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think about it. “Well, considering we’re snowed in on top of a mountain, I don’t suppose there’s anything better for me to do.”

John scoffed, shaking his head and immediately regretting it. “Shut up.”

“You’re gonna have to make me, cowboy.” There was that teasing lilt to your voice that always had John’s heart racing, and if he weren’t bedridden at the moment, he’d kiss that smug look off your face.

“Oh, you best believe I will once I’m up and about again.”

You laughed, the sound like wind chimes in his ears. “Alright. I guess I’ll have to take you up on that.”

John let out a hum, and you pushed down on his shoulder when he tried to sit up from the bed to kiss you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. 

You’re hurt.

He just shrugged, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward.

I don’t care.

You shook your head with a smile as you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lips, being mindful of his injuries. Of course, you were oblivious to the prying eyes in the cabin that just watched the short unspoken exchange. Abigail smiled to herself and looked back at the fire.

Damn fool, she thought.

Your time in Horseshoe Overlook was finally starting to ignite some hope in you as the gang sang around the campfire to celebrate Sean’s return. Javier was strumming on his guitar, but you could barely hear it over the loud caterwauling of your friends. You laughed when the Irishman tripped over a nearby log as he drunkenly stumbled around, but the contents of his bottle was soon all over your shirt, and you let out a gasp when the cold liquid seeped through the fabric and touched your skin. Sean profusely apologized, slurred syllables coming out to try and form coherent sentences. You waved him off with a smile and told him not to worry about it. He was home, he should celebrate.

Standing from your seat, you left the warmth of the fire and walked over to your tent, a shiver rolling up your spine. A pair of arms were suddenly around your waist, and you let out a yelp when you were lifted from the ground and someone’s face was pressed into your shoulder.

“John!” Your hands quickly gripped his arms, fingers digging into the sleeves of his union suit as he set you down. He chuckled against your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin before he let out a soft hum and tightened his arms around you.

“Where you been?”

“Uh, by the fire?”

Another hum, and you slightly tensed when his lips pressed against your neck before relaxing back into his chest.

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah well, Sean spilled his beer on me, I was gonna go get changed.”

Laying a few more kisses on your neck, John let go of you before grabbing your hand and leading you to your shared tent. Pulling back the flap, he let you in first and made sure to close the tent behind you both so you could undress without prying eyes, and you made quick work of unbuttoning your shirt, eager to get something warmer on. As you searched for something clean to wear, you sucked in sharply when you felt John’s rough hands on your shoulders, the noise devolving into a soft moan when he dug his thumbs into your tense muscles. His deft fingers made their way down your spine, memorizing every freckle and mole and mark like he hadn’t already done so a thousand other times. Once his hands reached your hips, he spun you around and hooked his fingers in the belt loops of your pants, pulling you close so you fell against his chest.

“Jeez, someone’s a little touchy when they’re drunk, hm?” you teased, hands coming up to push your fingers through his hair.

He leaned forward, his forehead gently knocking against yours. “Mm, well, when you look so lovely, how can I resist?”

You let out a chuckle, pushing at his chest. “Stop trying to be romantic, Marston. It doesn’t suit you.”

“M’serious.” There was a sudden stillness in the air as John pulled back to get a proper look at you, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw. “I think you’re… wonderful.”

Warmth blossomed in your chest and you smiled, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind his ear before pressing your lips to his uninjured cheek.

“Well, maybe romance is something you’re good at, cowboy.”

“Don’t know much about that. Just that it’s easier when it comes to you.”

“Wow. You know, I think that might be the sappiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts then, ‘cause you’re never gonna get to see me like this again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely keeping a tally.”

You yelped when John pinched your behind, and he promptly silenced you with a less than gentle kiss, his hand resting on the back of your neck as you looped your arms around his shoulders. He was all teeth and tongue as his nose clumsily knocked against your own, hands quickly wandering down and making quick work on unbuttoning your pants. You let out a sharp gasp into his mouth when his hand unceremoniously shoved down the front of your trousers, and he swallowed every desperate sound you made with eager lips.

“Fuck. John-”

"Woah! Guess this tent was occupied! You're a bloody animal, John Marston!"

John was quick to shield you from Sean and Karen, facing his back to them and using his body to hide your own. You let your head fall against his chest, your face heating up from embarrassment.

“Hey!- Would you get the hell outta here?!”

Sean whistled and wiggled his eyebrows, making light of the humiliating situation before grabbing Karen’s hand and stumbling off somewhere else so they could have their privacy after drunkenly invading yours. Once they were gone, you let out a groan and pushed away from John, grabbing the first clean shirt you saw and quickly slipping it on.

“I don’t even wanna think about what they were gonna do in our tent,” you muttered as you fastened the buttons.

John shrugged. “I imagine it was what we were about to do.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your balled up, ruined shirt and throwing it at his face as you laughed. “Don’t think I’m so easy, Marston. Gonna take a lot more than your drunken confessions of love to get me in bed.”

“You say that like I haven’t done less to get you in bed.”

You pinned him with a stare, one that had John chuckling before he threw your shirt to the side and held out his hand. “C’mon.”

Letting out a sigh, you accepted his outstretched hand and let him drag you back to the festivities, leading you back to the fire where mostly everyone seemed to congregate. Sitting down, he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you hummed along to the familiar raunchy tune everyone was singing. But John wasn’t focussed on the song, he was focussed on you, watching you sing with a smile on your face, slightly swaying in his lap. He watched the way the fire danced in your eyes and listened to your lovely voice join in with the other’s. He swore that one day, it wouldn’t take being in a drunken stupor to have the courage to say those sappy confessions to you.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay to pull a job right now?”

“It’s just some cattle we’re gonna be handlin’. Not robbing a bank,” John said, pulling on his boots.

You stood a few feet away from him, brows furrowed in a worried expression as you fidgeted with your hands. “I know, it’s just… anything could happen. I mean, I know we need the money, and I’m just worrying, but everything’s just been so hectic lately and I-”

“Darlin’.”

You sighed, clenching and unclenching your hands before forcing your shoulders to relax. “Right, sorry. It’s fine. I know you’ll be fine.”

John wanted to smile at how much you seemed to fret over him. Ever since he got injured, it was rare to see you not by his side. He knew that was partially why you were so worried. The fact that he was going to do this job, and you weren’t going to be with him. But you knew that eventually he had to get himself back out there. He couldn’t be on bed rest forever. Dutch wouldn’t let him. But more so, he wouldn’t let himself.

“I’ll be back tonight, alright? I’m takin’ Arthur with me, so things should go smoothly.”

You scoffed. “Right, hopefully before one of you ends up putting a bullet in the other. The pair of you act like stubborn children when you’re around each other.”

John sighed, standing up from his cot before coming closer, running his hands up and down your arms to try and give you some comfort. “Listen, if I’m not back by sundown, you have all the right to holler at me about how dumb or reckless or inconsiderate I am, and whatever else you manage to come up with in the meantime, alright?”

“... You forgot stubborn.”

He just chuckled, his heart swelling with adoration for you. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the way you worried about him. He placed a kiss against your hairline and gave your arms a squeeze before exiting his tent, you following after him. You watched as he mounted his horse and left camp, letting out a deep breath before walking over to Abigail’s tent. Jack was sitting on the ground next to her, playing with his wooden toys.

“That fool finally leave?” she asked, and you chuckled as you sat down next to her, leaning back on your hands.

“Yeah. I swear, Abigail, I don’t know how you put up with him as long as you did. He can be so… so-”

“Infuriating? Idiotic? Stupid? Shall I go on?”

You laughed, tilting your head and mindlessly watching her son play. “A combination of all of those things, I guess.”

Abigail just shrugged, looking at the pair of Jack’s pants in her hands and continuing to sew the hole in them. “Well, you think he’s bad now, he was even worse back then. A dumb fool when I had Jack. But I will say… he’s gotten better in the past few months.”

“Maybe. I’ve been hounding him about spending more time with his son. Not that it’s really my place but… I don’t know. I like what we are, and I like that you and I have a good relationship. I’d never forget that you and Jack are still his family and a part of his life. I’m just- I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.”

“Hold on now,” she set down the pair of pants, giving you her full attention, “has that idiot said something to make you feel like that?”

“Well… no. But I-”

“Darlin’, If you ever overstep, believe me, I will tell you if you are. You acknowledge that Jack and I are part of his life, well, I acknowledge that you’re part of his. And I-” She sighed, looking over at Jack for a moment as she pressed her lips together, thinking of what to say. “I’m glad that he has someone like you to kick him in the right direction when he starts down that stupid path of his. John and I, we made our peace a long time ago, and I wouldn’t put you in between any leftover nonsense we have. It’s mostly just about Jack now, anyways, and I can see that you care for the boy more than his own father does sometimes.” When she looked back at you, she reached over and placed a hand on your knee. “You’re good for him. And… I’m more than happy to realize the fact that you’re a part of this family, too.”

There were tears in your eyes when she finished speaking, her reassuring words wrapping around your heart and squeezing like a warm embrace. You could see what John saw in Abigail. She was beautiful and strong, didn’t take any nonsense from others. You were glad to call her your friend. Smiling, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, lightly sniffling.

“Wow, John was a real fool to let someone like you go,” you said, and Abigail laughed before continuing to sew up Jack’s pants.

“Believe me, if he does anything to screw up what you two have, he will not hear the end of it from me.”

Rage couldn’t possibly begin to describe the emotion bubbling up inside of you as you stormed through camp, fists clenched tightly at your sides and eyes sweeping over everyone, trying to find a specific face. You could see Micah coming towards you out of your peripherals, wearing that sleazy smirk on his face like your anger awoke something in him. Your lip tugged up in an almost snarl when he opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly rushed past him, making a point to ram your shoulder into his as you walked by. You didn’t have time nor the energy to deal with Micah’s bullshit antics right now. You already had one idiot cowboy to deal with.

“Marston!”

Heads shot up in your direction at your voice, hands pausing in their chores to try and get a proper listen at what was happening. You could hardly care about all that though when the lithe man you were looking for stepped out of the Shady Belle home, a brow raised in question as he came down the steps.

“Darlin’, you alright?”

You jerked back when John tried to reach out to touch you, raising a finger at him. “Don’t you pull that with me, right now. Don’t try and act dumb even if you’re a god damn master at it. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

There was a brief pause as his gaze made its way around the individual faces of the gang before eventually coming back to yours, like he would find the answer to your question in their expressions. “I… What are you talkin’ about?”

“Christ, Jack, you insufferable ass! You couldn’t be bothered to tell me he was gone?! You couldn’t find the time to slip that into casual conversation?!”

John got that look on his face that he always did when he started to put his guard up: that hard look in his eyes and his jaw set, shoulders squared as he deflected every word you threw at him. You fucking hated it. Hated that he was about to pull that bullshit tough act that he always did, especially with you.

“When the hell was I supposed to tell you? You’ve barely been at camp these past three days!”

“I was here all last night! You’re the one who’s been avoiding me, turning the other way whenever I try to even get close to you! I-” Tears of anger quickly welled up in your eyes, blinking a few times to try to keep them from falling. You didn’t catch the way John’s expression faltered for a moment. “I could’ve helped. The Braithwaite’s, I should’ve been there!”

John knew you were right. You were just as much family to Jack as the rest of the gang was, maybe even more so. He knew what you were saying made sense, and that you had every right to be upset. But nobody ever said John was able to see reason through his stubbornness.

“What does it matter, anyway? He’s not your child. You’re not his family! What concerns my family shouldn’t be any of your damn business!”

It felt as if you had been stabbed. Like he had carved a hole in your body where he could reach between your ribs and tear your heart out . Your breath hitched in your throat, a rogue tear quickly falling before you could make any effort to stop it. The camp around you stilled, the silence deafening as John’s words rang in your ears, and you sniffled, slowly nodding to yourself.

“Okay. If that’s how you see it… You don’t have to worry about me being in your business anymore.”

There was a brief moment where he just stared at you, a million thoughts echoing in his head, but by the time he opened his mouth to say anything, you were already gone, making your way back to your horse and riding out of camp. He watched your retreating figure until he couldn’t make you out anymore, letting out a sigh as he turned away, and he briefly caught the stares of everyone around camp before they all went about their own tasks, pretending as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened. 

Well, he supposed him making a fool out of himself wasn’t so unordinary after all.

***

“Come on, everyone! Let’s celebrate!”

There were cheers following Dutch’s exclamation, the gang gathering around the campfire and singing joyfully while Javier played a cheery tune on his guitar. You were glad Jack was back, glad that he was reunited with the people that loved and cared for him deeply.

You watched the celebration from afar, leaning against a tree as you observed everyone’s smiling faces. Of course, you wanted to join in, but everytime you gathered the courage to finally sit down with everyone, you would make out John’s face in the crowd and immediately sink in on yourself, his words from earlier repeating in your head.

His family was none of your business.

Despite those reassuring words Abigail said to you all those months ago, you wondered if you were ever part of their family. If John cared for you enough to even consider you as such. All those shared moments in private, whispered confessions between chaste kisses, the almost ‘I love you’s’ that were never said, but were conveyed through loving actions; did they mean anything to him? Were they just a forgetful blip in his life that he’d leave behind, along with any remnants of you?

The way he seemed to hold your entire world in his hands made you feel pathetic. How he hung the stars and moon, like you were some lovesick idiot who went sweet on a man who probably didn’t need you. You let him take your heart, something you once so preciously guarded behind stone walls that he managed to tear down with that dry wit and rebellious nature of his. What a fool you’ve been, to even think that there would ever be a future with a man such as John Marston.

“Hey.”

Snapping your head up, you cleared your throat and straightened your posture as Arthur made his way over to you, fingers lazily hooked into his belt. You felt tense as he leaned against the tree next to you, his shoulder grazing yours.

“Ya know, you don’t have to put on a brave face in front of me. I’ve known you long enough to know you’re fakin’ it.”

You sighed at his words, your body immediately slumping back against the tree as you let your body relax. “I’m uh, I’m guessing you heard that entire shit show at camp earlier?”

Arthur huffed. “Yeah, had to deal with the aftermath, too. Between getting Jack and figuring out how he was gonna apologize to you, that boy’s mind was a mess the entire ride there and back.”

You snorted, the idea of John being so distraught over you seeming almost unbelievable.

“Well, I bet most of that was because of his son. I can only imagine what he must’ve been going through.”

The quiet ambiance quickly filled the gaps in conversation, the singing from the gang combining with the loud chirping of the crickets. All it did was make you think. How could John not see that you cared for Jack too? That you’d give anything to see that boy safe and happy?

“You were right, you know. To be upset. Hell, I’m sure he’s heard enough from me and Abigail about how much of an idiot he’s been around you.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t have to do that. His son went missing, I can understand why he was acting that way, or why he said the things he did-”

“Doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you.”

“I pushed him, Arthur. He was going through something, and I got angry and made it all about me when I could’ve just talked to him after everything was said and done… this is my fault.”

“Hey,” Arthur turned to fully face you, leveling you with that stare of his that made you feel like a kid, “that boy is your family, too, and you had every right to worry about him. Don’t let what John said change that fact.”

Letting out a sigh, you leaned forward and rested your head against Arthur’s chest, feeling exhausted from the long day. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, a hand rubbing up and down your back.

“Thanks, Arthur.”

“Of course, kid.” There was a crunch in the grass, and you and Arthur looked up to see John slowly coming over to you. “Speak of the devil.” Pulling away, he gave your shoulder a reassuring pat and stared at John as he passed him, the younger man holding eye contact until he was out of his sight.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked down at your mud covered boots as John got closer. When he cleared his throat, you didn’t look up at him. There was a sigh, and then-

“M’sorry.”

You slowly raised your head, taking in John’s appearance. He looked exhausted, the fact that his son went missing clearly weighing on him. But he seemed more relaxed that Jack was back, even though at the moment he looked like an anxious wreck in front of you. You remained silent as you watched him, and John shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, aren’t you gonna say anything?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I wanted to keep listening to this half-assed apology you’re trying to give me.”

John scoffed and shook his head. “C’mon. Don’t be like that.”

“Don't be like what, John?” you pushed off the tree, walking towards him, “Don’t act like what you said hurt me? Like I haven’t been thinking about it all day?” He opened his mouth to speak, but you raised your hand to stop him and sighed. “Listen, I- I know how I acted earlier was dumb. I should’ve just talked to you about it. But… I care about you, okay? And Jack and Abigail, I would do anything for them. I’d do anything for you. God, I’m such a damn fool for you, John, I feel silly just thinking about it. What you said earlier? I just- I wanna know if you meant it. If you really want me out of your business, if you don’t want me getting between you and your family, I’ll stop. And then we can end… whatever this is, if you want.”

John’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer to you, and you hoped he couldn’t see how tears were on the verge of slipping down your face at the mere thought of him not wanting to be with you anymore. You weren’t so lucky though, as John reached out to wipe away the tears that had gathered under your eyes. He hated seeing your cry, especially when he was the one that caused it.

“Darlin’, of course I don’t wanna stop this. I- shit, I’m sorry I even made you think of somethin’ like that. And I’m sorry I said all those horrible things to you today. None of it was true. You are family, and whatever happens to Jack is as much your concern as it is mine and Abigail’s. I’m sorry for saying it wasn’t. So,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair, “I guess what I’m sayin’ is, I want you in my business, if you wanna be, that is.”

Your lips slowly split into a smile, and you moved to throw your arms around John’s shoulders. “John Marston, I would love nothing more than to be all up in your business,” you said with a laugh, and John’s mouth quirked up in that little half smile that you loved so much.

“Shuddup.”

You hummed, eyes trained on his lips before you leaned forward and kissed him, his arms coming up to wrap around you as the party continued on in the background.

“Fuck!”

Ducking behind cover, you brought your hand up to your shoulder with a pained grunt, pulling it back to reveal your blood covered palm. That was gonna be a bitch to get out later. You tried pushing the pain aside as you reloaded your pistol, popping your head out and nailing an O'driscoll right in the head. 

Fuck this cursed, swamp infested state! 

There was a shout of your name, and you looked over to see John behind a wagon, looking at you with concern evident in his expression. You waved him off, letting him know you’d be fine. Your exchange was interrupted when you heard a blood curdling scream, and you lifted your head to see that an O’Driscoll had Mary-Beth by the arm, dragging her away as she tried to fight him off.

You didn’t hesitate as you ran from cover towards her, shouting at her to get down and lifting your gun, putting three bullets in the bastard’s chest. He fell with a heavy thud, and Mary-Beth turned to you with a terrified expression before you shoved her towards where the rest of the gang had huddled for safety, telling her to run. You tried to follow her when an arm roughly curled around your waist, hauling you back as you kicked and yelled. You tried to point your gun towards them, but it was quickly knocked out of your hand before something cold and sharp was pressed against your neck.

“Don’t try anythin’ funny now, yeah? You won’t wanna find out what happens then,” he said, his hot breath against your ear as he chuckled.

You cringed at the stench of him, body thrashing and driving your foot into his shin. He let you go with a howl of pain. Spinning to face him, you surged forward and tackled him to the ground, barely giving him any time to react as your fist came down over and over again. But he began to swing wildly with his knife, and the blade sunk deep into your thigh. You cried out, white hot pain surging through your leg, and the momentary distraction gave him the upper hand, throwing you off him and yanking the knife out of your skin. 

“Hooo-wee! We got a feisty one here, boys! Too bad we can’t have more fun witchya,” he said, tongue running over his cracked lips.

Your lip raised in a snarl as you tried to fight him off using all your remaining strength, but he was determined, bringing the knife up and aiming for your chest. Panic surged through you, hands shooting out to grab at his wrist. You couldn’t die like this. At the hands of a fucking O’Driscoll?! A shot rang out before he could bring the knife down, blood spraying over your face and his brains blowing out the back of his head. You quickly pushed his limp body off of you as John desperately called out to you.

You almost collapsed from the pain in your leg when you tried to stand, bringing your hand down to put pressure on it, but fuck it was deep, and it hurt like hell.

Your voice was hoarse when you called John’s name, and he was by your side in an instant, eyes frantically searching over you.

“Come on, we gotta get you outta here.”

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he helped you stand. He was quick to get you to safety, lifting you up into the back of one of the wagons.

“Shit, you’re hurt pretty bad.”

“I’ll live, you go finish them off.”

“Darlin’-”

“Go! I’ll be fine.”

He looked at you for a moment, your words rolling around in his head for a moment before he sighed and nodded, leaning down to give you a searing kiss. He hopped out of the wagon, immediately firing at the remaining O’Driscoll’s, and you looked around you for something to cover your wound with. Letting out a groan when you found nothing, you pulled out your knife and moved to the edge of the wagon, wincing as you got up onto your knees. Brining your knife up, you cut out a piece of the canvas cover of the wagon. Grimshaw would be upset, but you’d take her wrath over bleeding out any day.

Or, wait-

No, don’t be stupid!

Shaking your head, you tied the cloth tightly around your thigh with a groan, teeth tightly clenched as you leaned back. You hoped this all would be over soon.

Your prayers were answered when the gunfire ceased, and you cautiously poked your head out of the back of the wagon to see the rest of the O’Driscoll’s were dead, much to your relief. You attempted to get out of the wagon, but were quickly stopped when Charles came rushing over to you.

“Woah, woah, woah. Take it slow,” he said, reaching out to you.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles carefully lifted you by your hips and set you down on the muddy ground, letting you use him as a crutch as you walked towards the gang.

“Oh, shit, kid,” Arthur grimaced when he noticed you. You waved him off.

“I’m okay.”

“Okay?! You’ve been shot and stabbed, for Christ's sake!”

“Wow, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as John came rushing over to you, taking Charles’s place as your human crutch.

“Come on, we gotta get outta here now. Before more of those bastards show up,” Dutch said.

The man began barking out orders to the gang, and John helped you back to the wagon, making sure to grab some medical supplies along the way.

“Here, I’m gonna have Abigail come and patch you up.”

“Good idea, knowing you, you’d probably put another hole in me.” John sighed, giving you a pointed look that had you shrugging your shoulders and immediately regretting it as you were quickly reminded of the bullet lodged in one of them.

“Christ, could you stop for two seconds?”

You raised a brow. “Stop what?”

“Stop!- Shit, stop making me worry about you. You could’ve died today. Ain’t nothin’ to be making jokes about.”

“John, I’m fine-”

“But you almost weren’t! How can you be so casual about this? The person I love almost dies, and you’re just-”

“You love me?” 

John froze, lips parting like he was trying to find the right words to say. John Marston was never certain about a lot of things, but one thing he was sure about was just how much he loved you. He loved you so much it physically hurt, his heart wrenching whenever you cried, his mood lifting when you’d smile at him. He felt almost blessed just to breathe your air, to be able to hold you and kiss you. The fact that he got to call you his was unfathomable to him. Yet here he was, your face gently cradled in his hands like you’d shatter the moment he was too rough with you. Clearly John did something right in his life to end up so fortunate to have you in it.

Wetting his lips, John brushed his thumb over your cheek, smearing the blood on your face that hadn’t completely dried yet.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Darlin’.”

Bottom lip quivering, you threw your arms around him, not caring about the screaming pain in your shoulder. It felt like any words you wanted to say had been stolen from you, too overwhelmed to properly express just how much you felt. The only thing you could do was mutter a quiet, “I love you, too,” into his neck, his arms carefully winding around you. 

We’re gonna be okay.

You can’t remember the last time you got to relax like this. The last time you felt this good.

You muffled a gasp into John’s shoulder when he hit you with a particularly hard thrust, reaching places deep inside you that you couldn’t even recall anyone else having discovered. Maybe it was the fact that you almost died a few days ago, but holy fuck, he was something else in that moment.

You tried to keep quiet as to not alert the rest of the camp, but god he felt so fucking good inside of you. You could barely contain your moans that so desperately wanted to slip out every time he pulled out and pushed himself back in. And when he reached down between your bodies and began playing with the most sensitive part of you, you almost lost it right then and there.

“Fuck, Darlin’. I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep squeezin’ me like that,” John groaned, lips pressed against your pulse as you keened.

He’d been extra handsy tonight, too. Always touching some part of you whether it be his hand pressed against your lower back or his side brushing against yours when he stood close to you. You couldn’t get away from him all day. He followed your figure with hungry eyes when you did literally anything around camp. When you finally noticed, you knew you were in for it. He was fucking burning for you when you retreated to your tent for the night, pawing at your clothes the second the tent flap closed behind him. He was so eager, he ripped a few buttons off your shirt trying to pull it off you, but you didn’t have it in you to yell at him. You were just as desperate as he was.

“C’mon. I wanna hear you.”

You shook your head, burying your face into his neck. Beaver Hollow was cramped. It felt like all of you were living right on top of each other. There was no way no one would hear.

His hand came down and gripped the back of your thigh, pushing your leg up and spreading you further apart, and he let out a grunt when he felt your teeth sink into his shoulder. Pulling back, his other hand came up to grip your jaw, stilling his hips as he forced you to look at him.

“You holdin’ out on me, sweetheart?”

His hips rolled tightly against your own, your jaw dropping open as your head fell back against the bedroll.

“Don’t- mmh- Don’t fuckin’ tease me, Marston.” He chuckled against your collar bone. He was being cute, but he still wasn’t fucking moving. “I swear to god, if you don’t move right now I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

He snorted that time, only slightly relieving you with the smallest movement of his hips. You didn’t even really mind if you finished, having already come minutes before when he had gone down on you like a man starved. But you were fucking aching for more than just his mouth, and his cock just fit inside you so nicely-

You scrambled to slap your hand over your mouth when he suddenly resumed his thrusts, your back arching up from the bedroll as a rough hand dragged down your front. You choked on a moan when he sat back on his knees and lifted you up into his lap, his hands guiding your hips. Your hand pressed flat against his solid chest, the fingers on your other hand curling into his hair and tugging him forward to sloppily force his lips against yours.

“Fuck!” you gasped, unable to contain the moan that came tumbling out as you held onto him for dear life.

All hopes of being quiet were lost after that, delicious moans pouring out of you that had John picking up the pace so you could both reach your end. You were a bit confused when he laid you back down and pressed his hand against your mouth, his motions stopping, and you whined for him to continue. You arched your hips up desperately, but quickly understood why he stopped when you heard footsteps getting closer to your tent. You silently prayed for them to go away, but your widened eyes met with John’s when you felt him slowly begin to move, and you quickly shook your head against his hand.

He ignored you, slowly pushing in and out, and the feeling had you biting into the flesh of his hand. He didn’t move it, your hands coming up to grip his wrist. You were worried, but the risk of getting caught, the way John felt inside you, it had you cumming in seconds. John was right behind you with a quiet groan, the feeling of you finishing with him inside you sending him over the edge, and the steps slowly retreated.

He gently pulled out with a sigh and collapsed beside you, both of you working to catch your breath.

“God, I really hope that wasn’t Micah,” you muttered breathlessly.

“Eugh. Don’t make me think about him right now.”

You laughed, and John pinched your side. “Guess we’ll see what he says tomorrow, then.”

It went without saying, Beaver Hollow was without a doubt your least favorite camp spot. It was dark, creepy, and there were possible cannibals lurking throughout the woods. However, despite all those things, the starry night sky was a breathtaking sight. 

“Ooh, and that one, that one’s Orion.” you said, pointing up at the sky.

John chuckled from his spot beside you. “You sure know a lot about this stuff, huh?”

You shrugged, lightly squeezing his hand that rested between you. “Not really. I just know the little bit my mother taught me. Orion’s always been my favorite.”

You heard John let out a hum as you continued to look at the stars, unaware of the fact that he had shifted his gaze over to you. There was something about the way you’d talk about things you were interested in that had warmth swirling around in his chest. The way your eyes would light up and you’d get this smile on your face that rivaled the stars you thought of so dearly. He’d never admit it, but that smile was his favorite sight to see after a long day, even if it meant only seeing it after being lectured over how much of an inconsiderate fool he’d been earlier. Still, it was always worth it.

The distant chattering of the gang and the loud chirping of crickets filled the silence between you, a gentle breeze shaking the leaves of the trees and causing a chill to run through you. After a little while, you finally looked over to meet John’s eyes.

“You know, the view is up there,” you said.

John turned on his side, propping his elbow up so he could rest his head in his hand, “Yeah, but I got a better one next to me.”

You scoffed, reaching over and slapping his shoulder as he chuckled, and you turned to face him as well. "Well, you're not so bad to look at yourself," you muttered, reaching out to play with the loose thread of his shirt.

John immediately shook his head. "I'm an ugly bastard, no need to lie to me. I know these scars aren't exactly nice to look at."

"Oh, quite the contrary, actually," you said, moving your hand to carefully run your fingers over said scars. You started at his lip, your thumb brushing over it, before mapping out the ones on his cheek. "You know, some people find scars incredibly sexy."

John raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. And one of those said people just happen to be me." You leaned forward before he could respond with some self deprecating joke and pressed your lips to his, continuing to caress his scarred cheek.

He hummed into the kiss, hand slowly trailing down your back before he rolled over, and you laughed against his mouth as you fell on top of him. Pressing a hand against his chest, the other came up to rest against his cheek as you trailed kisses over his jaw, and his hands fell to your hips, his hold possessive and wanting. You softly gasped when his fingers made their way under your shirt, his skin rough and warm. You pulled away before it could go any further, and John let out a displeased sigh that had you chuckling.

“I know, I know. But, we’re not exactly alone,” you said, glancing up at the rest of the gang, some sitting by the fire, and the rest sound asleep.

“Hasn’t exactly stopped us before.”

You pinched his side before laying your head against his chest, feeling him shake underneath you as he laughed. “Well, yeah, but that was different. It was the middle of the night and everyone was already asleep. Not every single person in camp had the potential to hear us.”

“You sure about that? I mean, with how loud you are-”

“Marston, you finish that sentence and I will never let you touch me again.”

He let out another laugh that had you smiling. You always loved his laugh, the sound being so foreign these days. You wished he had more reasons to be happy. You wished that for all of you. You closed your eyes as John ran his hand up and down your back, and you listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“John… Do you think we’ll make it out of this? I mean, things aren’t exactly looking up from here. Everything with Dutch, I just-"

            "Hey, we're gonna get outta here. You, me, Jack, Abigail, and Arthur, we're gonna be safe."

He was right. You wanted him to be right. It was hard to imagine, though, when everything seemed to be crumbling around you. The Pinkertons and the O'Driscoll's constantly appearing, killing your friends. Dutch’s ideals and beliefs blurred day by day as his greed and his need to win grew. How could you possibly see a positive end to all this chaos? Despite all that, you tried to focus on the here and now, your body held safely in John’s arms, where you felt safest.

"I miss them," you whispered, your eyes welling up at the thought of all the friends you lost. Your family.

"Me too, Darlin'. Me too."

You knew that you should’ve left with the others. God, you fucking knew. You had talked about it with John before, about taking off in the middle of the night, taking Arthur, Abigail, and Jack with you, but he was on the fence. It was always a “maybe,” or “eventually,” and you felt like ripping your hair out. The pressure you felt to leave only increased when John got taken by the law and Dutch did absolutely nothing but scheme with Micah all day. He constantly made empty promises to you and Abigail that he would get him back, but after days of waiting for the man to make good on his word, you grew restless, enlisting the help of Arthur and Sadie to go rescue him.

“I had a goddamn plan!” Dutch had yelled, and you were so furious, you didn’t even think when you got right in his face and jabbed your finger into his chest.

“And what was that, huh?! Wait a few more days until all you brought back was a fucking corpse?! There was talk of hangin’ him!”

“There was talk of hanging him. Talk!”

You almost drew your gun right then and there, teeth bared as you moved forward, but Arthur gripped your arm and pulled you back. Your head snapped towards Micah when you heard him chuckle, that stupid smirk on his face that you wanted nothing more than to wipe off.

“Whatever. You’re just lucky that you have your fucking pet snake here to protect you.”

Ever since then, there had been a clear tension between you and Dutch, so when he recruited you to go on this train job, you were shocked at first. After your fight you thought he’d want nothing to do with you. But when you thought about it, Dutch didn’t want you on the job because he liked you. No, he wanted you because you were strong and damn good with a gun. To him, you were just another body, a tool to help him get his greedy hands on what he wanted most.

You let out a grunt as you threw yourself onto the train cart from Javier’s horse, rolling onto your side and quickly hauling yourself up on your feet. “God, this is such fucking bullshit!” you muttered, loading bullets into your pistol.

“The train’s being robbed!”

Your head whirled, and you saw a man standing on top of the hill. Goddammit. “Let’s get this show on the road, gentlemen!” you yelled, John making quick work of unlatching the burning car, and you busied yourself with helping Arthur set up the Maxim gun.

You jostled with the explosion of the car, catching Arthur’s shoulder to steady yourself. Looking over at John, relief flooded you when you saw that he was uninjured. You took a step towards him when-

BANG!

“John!”

He stumbled back with the shot, your arm shooting out to try and grab him. Your fingers briefly brushed against his before he fell off the train. You didn’t think as you went to jump after him, but there was a strong arm around your torso pulling you back. You kicked and screamed, trying to get out of Arthur’s hold.

“Kid, no! You wanna get yourself killed?!”

You beat your fist down against his arm. “Let me go! Fuck, I have to help him! Arthur-!”

With enough force, you were able to twist yourself out of his grip, breathing erratically and your hands violently shaking. Arthur held his hands out, trying to get you to calm down, but his words fell on deaf ears when your eyes landed on the man on top of the cart. With a strangled cry, you raised your pistol and emptied it into the man, tears clouding your vision. You pulled the trigger a few more times and heard nothing but empty clicks, and your body collapsed forward onto your hands and knees. Dutch said something about getting John, but you barely registered the words, blood rushing in your ears and heart hammering against your chest. You couldn’t think, could barely even breathe. Arthur placed a hand on your shoulder and you pulled away like his touch burned you. You felt fucking sick. There was a white hot rage that bubbled up inside you and made your insides churn, and you willed your body to stand on shaking legs. Your teeth were clenched so tightly that your jaw started to ache, and as Arthur spoke to Bill, you grabbed your shotgun from your back and began moving up the train without them, hearing him shout for you.

You tore through every lawman in your way, tears rolling down your face as you channeled all your anger and grief into each shot you took. A man came running at you, and you swung your shotgun at his head, his body crumpling down at your feet. You pressed the barrel against his head and squeezed the trigger, blood splattering all over your clothes. You didn’t care, never once bothering to duck into cover, even as the lawmen riding in on their horses started shooting at you. You were too hurt to care, too angry.

As you moved further up the train, a man suddenly came out from behind a wooden crate and slammed into you with a shout, causing you to drop your gun as you stumbled into the wall. You huffed through your nose, your aching shoulder taking most of the blow, and quickly pulled your knife from your thigh. You didn’t feel scared or intimidated, not even as the man raised his gun in an attempt to shoot you. You were just fucking pissed.

You moved in before he could take the shot, swiping the gun out of his hand and using your body to slam him into the wall. Your arm was across his throat, his eyes widening in fear, and you thrust your knife up into his gut, the blade sinking satisfyingly into his flesh. You watched as the life drained from his eyes, blood gurgling up his throat and spilling out of his mouth before you finally let him fall to the ground.

“Kid!”

Arthur gripped your arm and pulled you back from the body, looking over your blood covered form as Sadie came up behind him.

“Come on! We gotta hurry.” She brushed past you both, and you gave Arthur a nod before pulling away from him and following after Sadie towards the armored car, avoiding the man’s concerned gaze. You just wanted to get off this godforsaken train and find John.

***

If I never have to do a train robbery again, I will die happy.

Your sore limbs screamed at you as you lifted yourself up from the dirt, letting out a pained groan. You could mark down ‘jumping off of a moving train’ as one of your absolute least favorite things to do.

  “You okay?”

You glanced over at Arthur, a hefty bag of money resting on his shoulder. You nodded, brushing the dirt off of your clothes. “Just peachy.”

Grabbing your own bag, you followed Bill, Sadie and Arthur down the tracks, the sound of Hooves beating against the dirt getting closer until Dutch, Micah, and Javier stopped in front of you on their horses. There was something missing that you quickly noticed. Someone.

“Where’s John?” Arthur asked.

Dutch shook his head. “I tried. I tried.”

“He didn’t make it,” Micah added. “That patrol killed him.”

The heavy bag fell to your feet, and everyone’s eyes landed on you. Arthur could practically feel the rage radiating off of you, his eyes not able to catch how fast your hand moved as you unholstered your gun and aimed it directly at Micah’s head. No one made a single move after that for a few seconds until Micah’s idiot buddies finally regained their senses and scrambled for their own weapons, pointing them at you. Ordinarily, Micah probably wouldn’t have been phased by the action. He spent so much time spewing his mouth and pissing people off, he most likely couldn’t count how many times in a day a gun had been pointed at him. But the look on your face, that pure, unbridled rage that swirled behind your eyes, it made him nervous.

“You're full of shit.” you spat.

Micah glanced over at Dutch before letting out a chuckle, raising his hands. “Now, I assure you-”

“Both of you! You fucking bastards!”

“Kid, don’t-”

You ignored Arthur’s soft pleas, shifting your gun to Dutch. “You tried?! So you just left him? Is that it?! You fucking left him to die, and were so concerened with saving your own pathetic skin that you couldn’t even grab his body?!”

“There wasn’t time! We had to run! Goddammit, don’t you think I-”

“I don’t think you did anything, Dutch! I think you’re a god damned liar and a traitor!”

Gun shaking in your hand, you finally lowered it after a moment, a broken sob clawing its way up your throat. He can’t be dead. He can’t be. Sadie softly uttered your name and took a cautious step towards you. Concern was written all over her face, gently placing a hand on the center of your back. Sadie showed more care for you in that moment than Dutch had in the past month. And you were abruptly reminded of the fact that, no, Dutch didn’t care about anyone but himself and his own personal gain. Maybe, maybe there was a time long ago when we would’ve gladly given his life for any one of you sorry fools. But now? Any love he had left for you had been weeded out. Speeding over to your horse, you mounted up and connected your gaze with Arthur’s. You didn’t have to say anything for him to know what you were about to do, and his simple nod told you everything you needed to know.

Be careful.

Taking a deep breath, your hands tightened on the reins and you spurred your horse into a gallop, not looking back when Dutch angrily shouted your name. You didn’t care what he’d do to you when you got back to camp, you needed to know for sure what John’s fate was. And if he was dead…

If he’s dead, I’ll fucking kill him!

You followed the train tracks and tried to remember where he fell, looking out for any unique landmarks. How could they just leave him? After everything he’s been through with this gang, his whole life dedicated to what Dutch stood for, and he fucking left him. It was heartbreaking watching the man you once valued as a leader devolve into the power hungry fanatic he was today. He preached honor and loyalty.

Faith.

Fuck faith.

Fuck him.

You wiped an angry tear away from your face and urged your horse to go faster, muttering apologies for how hard you were pushing her, but you couldn’t spare a moment. What if John was bleeding out, alone and in pain? What if he was desperately calling out for you?

What if, what if, what if.

Stopping your horse around where you thought John fell, you dismounted and made your way down the hill, gun held tightly in your hand. “John?!” You waited for a moment, listening closely for a response. When you got none, you searched further and shouted his name again. You tried to prepare yourself for the possibility that he was in fact dead, the thought weighing heavy on your heart. What would you do if that was the case? Where would you go? How could you possibly live your life without that fool in it every day?

You felt like collapsing after minutes of searching with no luck. Your body fell against a nearby tree, and you cried. You cried until your throat hurt and your nose was stuffed, hand coming up to wipe away your snot and tears.

What am I gonna tell Jack and Abigail?

Something cracked, a branch maybe, and your head shot up at the sound. You pushed yourself off the tree, quickly making your way towards the sound and-

“Oh my, god!”

There John was, collapsed against a tree trunk and gripping his shoulder, blood soaking his shirt. You were in front of him in the blink of an eye, kneeling on the dirt and tearing the sleeve off your shirt. He looked so out of it. His eyes were shut tightly as he let out occasional groans from the pain, but you were just glad that he was alive. You were quick to patch up his wound the best you could, taking a half full health cure out of your satchel and urging him to drink it. He coughed as it went down.

“Are you real?”

Your hands paused, and you looked at his face. God, he looked exhausted. With a smile, you reached a hand up and brushed his hair behind his ear, palm resting against his cheek. Your heart ached for John. He had been through so much, and there was nothing you could do to change the fact that the man who had taken him in when he was just a kid, the man who was supposed to protect him, had left him for dead. You couldn't take his pain away, couldn’t say or do anything that would change what happened to him. The fact that you couldn’t keep him from hurting, it killed you. 

When you kissed him, it was gentle at first, but grew more desperate when it finally sunk in that he was actually alive. He was here, with you. You pulled away with a shaky breath, lips pressed together in a sad smile.

“You think this is Heaven, Marston?”

He gave you that boyish grin, hand falling on your thigh and squeezing. “It’s certainly Heaven if you’re here, Darlin’.”

It caught you off guard how sweet he could be with a bullet lodged in him, and you laughed before kissing him again. His face was held so gently in your hands, like you might break him if you moved too suddenly or kissed him too hard. That gentleness was thrown out the window when he hauled you into his lap, letting out a noise of protest against his lips.

“John- you're hurt.”

He buried his face in your neck, his stubble tickling as he trailed featherlight kisses over your skin.

“I thought I’d never see you again. Grant a dying man his last wish.”

“You’re not dying, John.”

“Almost.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling his face away from your neck with a smile before softly connecting your lips again. And again. And again. He chased your lips when you pulled away. He just didn’t want you getting away from him, it seemed.

“You scare me like that again, and I’ll put you in the ground myself. You got it, Marston?”

He just smiled, not paying attention to anything but your lips as he leaned in again. “Whatever you say.”

While you got to share one small, blissful moment with John now, you couldn’t imagine how things would unravel once you both got back to camp and faced Dutch with the man he claimed was dead.

Christ, it was fucking hot. The sun beat down on you as you carried hay into the horse's stall, setting it down with a grunt before taking off your glove and wiping the back of your hand over your sweaty forehead. You couldn’t wait for a nice, long bath.

Maybe a certain someone would consider taking one with you.

You quickly shook your head at the thought, slapping at your cheeks a few times as you felt them heat up.

“Should I be concerned as to why you’re hittin’ yourself?”

You gasped and spun around at the sudden voice, glaring at Arthur’s smug expression.

“Jesus, way to give someone a freaking heart attack,” you muttered, thwacking your glove against his chest as you passed him. He just shrugged with a small chuckle, following after you.

“You make it too easy, kid.”

You hummed, picking up another bail of hay and thrusting it towards him. He quickly grabbed onto it with a quiet grunt. “You gonna help out or stand around torturin’ me?”

“Hey, you wanna talk to someone about pulling their weight, go harass Uncle.”

“Oh, I have plans for him,” you said, hands placed on your hips as you gave Arthur a knowing smirk.

“Well, I can’t wait then.”

Your smile grew as you parted ways from him, walking across Beecher's Hope to find Uncle sitting on the porch in his usual shady spot. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to laze around. Work on the ranch was hard sometimes, and on blistering days like today, it could really take all the energy out of you. Except Uncle seemed to never have energy, considering you’d probably see a sasquatch before you ever saw him do any work.

“Hey, old man.” You kicked at his boot, causing him to abruptly stir awake, which he clearly didn’t appreciate.

“What- Aw hell, what do ya want now? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, really? Because I could’ve sworn it looked like you were doing nothing!”

“Alright, alright! Christ, you’re just as bad as those two imbeciles,” Uncle said, finally standing from his slumped position against the wood support beam with a dramatic groan.

“Hardly, considering I don’t threaten to gut you in your sleep nearly as much.” Walking towards the barn, you grabbed the pitchfork hanging up and handed it over. “You want some work in the shade? Shovel the horse stalls.”

His gaze frantically shifted from you to the pitchfork, and he shook his head. “Aw, Hell no! You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you’d rather subject yourself to the mercy Arthur and John are gonna show you?”

Uncle didn’t say anything for a minute, looking at the pitchfork in his hand before grumbling to himself and trudging off, and a satisfied smirk tugged at your lips. Taking off your other glove, you lightly slapped them against your thigh as you made your way towards the corral, kicking up loose dirt in your path. 

You caught a glimpse of Jack leaning against a tree with a thick book in his hand and wanted to smile. You remembered when he was just a little boy all those years ago, kicking up a fuss whenever Hosea would sit down with him to read. Now, you couldn’t imagine Jack doing anything else with his free time, his face constantly stuffed in a book, barely paying attention to the world around him. He lifted his head when he felt you staring and gave you a small wave paired with a smile. You returned the gesture, letting him go back to his reading before walking away. Hosea would be proud.

Your thoughts strayed at the thought of the older man, a wave of sadness hitting you as your steps faltered. God, he would’ve loved to see this. His family living a good life, more honest than he ever lived his. You imagined how proud he’d be of everyone, especially Arthur. You could see it day by day, the urge he feels to go back to his old ways like a dog trained. You watched as he fought his thoughts, listened as he expressed his worry of overstaying his welcome.

“You’re family, Arthur. Hell, you’re the reason we’re all here in the first place. You can stay here as long as you’d like.”

The corral was soon in your sights, a slight pep in your step as your beloved horse came into view. Kieran stood beside him, a brush in his hand as he gently patted his neck. Despite mosts original feelings about Kieran, he had become a loved and valued member of your family. He had always tried so hard to fit in with the gang, constantly walking on eggshells or mostly keeping his mouth shut so he didn’t unintentionally piss anyone off. You felt for him. But since coming to Beachers Hope, he seemed more relaxed. Perfectly content as he worked with the horses. There was a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, and you wanted to make sure it never went out again.

“How’s he been doing?” you asked, sidling up to both of them.

Kieran smiled at your presence. “He’s been good! Those herbs I gave him yesterday really seem to be helping.”

Orion bumped his nose into your shoulder, and you gently brushed your hand against his forehead with a chuckle. “You’re a lifesaver, Kieran.” The man’s eyes slightly widened at your praise, and he quickly let out a flurry of rushed sentences as his face flushed. You smiled, silencing him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, thank you. You’re really helping us out around here.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood stock still as his eyes roamed your face. He eventually let out a small hum and looked away, resuming brushing the dirt off of Orion’s coat. You let out an amused huff through your nose before leaving Kieran to his own devices. He couldn’t handle the slightest praise if his life depended on it.

“I think you almost gave him a heart attack.”

Charles bumped you with his shoulder, and you let out a hum.

“You should see him when that kind of stuff comes out of Arthur’s mouth. It’s like he’s seen a ghost.”

Charles' deep laugh resonated through your ears and sparked warmth in your chest. You liked it when he was carefree like this. Not skulking around by himself or hiding where no one could find him.

“It’s new for him, too. He looked like a bumbling fool the first time he tried to say something nice to him.”

You snorted, leaning against the fence of the corral and placing your foot on top of the rail. You both watched the animals meander around for a bit, Charles excusing himself to go take care of something. You didn’t really catch the end of what he said when John came into view carrying a bale of hay. You could see the flexed muscles of his arms underneath his shirt, sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck and disappeared under the fabric, and he quickly found your eyes with his own before your thoughts could drift further. You cleared your throat like it would somehow get rid of all the thoughts you were having and climbed the fence, dirt kicking up when you landed on the other side. Setting down the bale, John straightened up and hooked his thumbs into his belt, his lips lifting in a knowing smirk.

“Don’t make me slap you, Marston.”

He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, well you were gonna,” you muttered, fingers slipping underneath the front of his belt and tugging him forward, his chest knocking into yours. He raised a curious eyebrow.

“You running a little hot, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, fist colliding with his shoulder as you pulled away. “Rancher John has gotten a little cocky, I see.”

“And Gunslinger Martson wasn’t?”

“Oh, absolutely not. Gunslinger Marston was a hopeless fool who couldn’t say ‘I love you’ until I was almost dying.”

“I love you.”

Your head spun towards him, brows raised in slight shock. He shrugged.

“You’re not dying now.”

Your lips twitched up in a smile, stepping towards him again and gripping the front of his shirt. “You’re still a hopeless fool.”

He hummed as you slotted your lips against his, hands finding their home on your waist and tugging you closer until your front was pressed up against his. It was too hot to be this close, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin and sweat beading down your forehead. But you couldn’t pay any mind to that when John’s lips and hands felt so nice against you. 

“Oh for cryin’ out loud, would you two get a room?” a distant Uncle yelled, and you pulled away from John’s lips. You didn’t move too far though, hands still pressed against his chest.

“Aren’t you supposed to be shoveling horse shit?”

You felt John shake with laughter, and Uncle just mumbled insults to himself as he threw the pitchfork in the dirt and stomped away. “Damn kids. Got no respect for their elders…”

Your head collapsed against John’s chest as you fell into a fit of giggles, his arms looping around you and pulling you close. Fingers curling into his shirt, you looked up and caught his gaze. “You done for the day?”

He nodded, and you pulled back to grab his hand, leading him towards the house. You toed off your muddy boots by the door once inside and laughed when John nearly tripped over his pants. He flicked your arm and walked past you into the bathroom. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you were already working on the buttons of your shirt as John prepared the bath.

“You wanna try out one of these fancy soaps you bought?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes at the way he said it. 

“They are not ‘fancy,’ John.”

“Sure cost us a pretty penny.”

You shrugged your top off, throwing it on the chair in the corner. “Am I not allowed to smell good?”

He scoffed, standing up from the edge of the tub and pulling his shirt out of his pants. “No. I’m saying you smell good regardless of what you use.”

Tilting your head, you stepped into his space and helped him finish unbuttoning, placing small kisses against his chest as you pushed the fabric off his shoulders. Deft fingers slid down his abdomen before reaching his pants, and he let out a soft sigh when you unzipped them.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t gonna be any point to this bath if you keep going.”

Chuckling against his skin, you pulled away to let him finish undressing himself, shedding your own clothes. You dipped your foot into the water and sighed contentedly. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t unbearably hot either. Just that perfect middle ground that you could relax in after a long day. Sinking into the tub, you moved up a bit to let John sit behind you. You could practically feel the tension easing from his body when you leaned back against him, his arms lazily thrown around your middle and his nose buried in your hair.

You reminded yourself to thank Arthur for the thousandth time. Absolutely none of this would be possible if not for him. The fact that you were able to just sit and relax without waiting for some treacherous gang or the law to come barging down your door, that you could just simply live, it felt unreal. Jack, that lovely, sweet boy, finally had a bed to sleep in, and could read his books without worrying about moving to a new place again. It all felt like a blissful dream, and you were afraid of waking up any moment. But you would look at John sometimes and he would smile, really smile, and you’d be reminded that this was all real. His touch, his laughter, his love. It was real.

“You can keep buyin’ it, ya’know.”

“Hm?” you hummed, slightly turning your head back.

“The soaps. They smell… nice.”

Your face split into a wide grin as you twisted your body and pressed your lips to his, brushing his greasy hair back from his forehead.

“You’re a fool, John Marston.”

“Only for you, Darlin’. Only for you.”

[noname-friend]

"We can't marry!" "Why?" Mafia!Taeyong x Reader

Summary: In an arranged marriage with one of the biggest Mafia families around, you are less than thrilled to be in it. Surely you can figure out how to get out of it.

Your hair stood on end, your heart bumping loudly in your ears as you stayed as quiet as you could. You held the bag against your chest tightly, peaking around the corner. Looks clear. You checked once more behind you and ran to the next pillar. You were almost to the garage, then you could jump the wall and hide in the forest.

You checked once more and hid behind one of the cars that sat outside. You were glad most of the family was out doing whatever these guys do. It was much easier to sneak around.

For the final time, you looked around. You ran up to the wall, throwing your bag over. Jumping up, you grabbed the top of it and pulled yourself up. You heard talking and laid your body flat on the top, adjusting the hood to cover your face completely.

"They'll still be able to see you." The sudden voice scared you right out of your skin, nearly falling off.

"Don't give up now, I want to see how far you'll get." The man lit his cigarette, allowing you to see his face clear from the light.

You sighed in defeat, your head falling down on top of your hands. "I thought you left."

"For a smoke, yeah. Not for the mission." He chuckled, "You think I don't trust them to handle anything without me?"

"It sounded like it." You mumbled.

He walked over just as you were discovered by the voices you heard earlier. Taeyong put his hand up, "Don't worry guys, it's just us having a chat." And he sent them away. He stood in front of you with his arms open for you to jump to him.

"Piss off." You jumped down away from him.

"Forgetting something?" He motioned to the bag on the other side.

"It's just some clothes, I'll get them in the morning." You crossed your arms.

He laughed, putting out his cigarette and jumping over the wall, easily. He threw the bag back over and jumped back himself. "You're welcome."

"Piss. Off." You emphasized, snatching the bag and trekking back to your room. You couldn't help the glare you gave to some passing members. You slammed the door shut, unable to lock it. Throwing the bag into a corner, you got undressed back into pajamas.

As if your now sour mood couldn't get worse, Taeyong was waiting for you on the bed. You rolled your eyes at him and brushed your hair, putting it up for the night.

"I'm guessing we should talk." He started but you cut him off before he could say more.

"I think you should leave." You smiled sarcastically.

"We're getting married and there's nothing you can do about it." He shrugged.

"I will not live an unhappy life with you." You eventually sat on the other side of the bed, getting under the covers. "Now leave I want to sleep."

"Why would it be unhappy? Why can't you marry me?" He leaned back, looking at you.

You sat up and looked straight at him. "It'll be more miserable for you."

Taeyong couldn't help a slight smile, "Why?"

"Well, I'm a big shopper. I need lots of money to spend on pointless things." You said smugly.

"That's not an issue, you can have all the money you want to spend." He dismissed.

You hmphed, "I hate cooking, so I won't cook you anything."

"Ok, I'll do the cooking." He nodded.

You paused, "Well I hate being around your brothers and they make me highly uncomfortable, I want my own space and room." You looked away proud, feeling like this wasn't a condition he'd meet.

He paused for a while before nodding, "Alright, I'll have the house in the back of the property remade for you, nobody will be allowed back there. Is that all?"

"No!" You struggled to find another excuse, "That's too lonely! I want some companionship. I want dogs or a horse or something to keep me company." You pouted, hoping he didn't notice the awkward delivery in these demands.

But Taeyong once again was ready to comply, "Fine, by tomorrow tell me what dogs or horse or whatever you want, I'll have someone pick them up. Happy?"

You continued to shake your head. Though you'd be lying if you didn't feel a little swayed by how patience he continued to be despite your attempts of throwing a fit. "Your hair makes you look scary red. I don't like looking at it. You should do something cuter. Like pink."

"That's an easy one, I can do pink hair if that's what you want." He stood up. "All of your demands will be made soon, so I hope you can come to not hate this marriage." He walked around to your side and leaned over, it looked like he was going to give you a kiss on the head, but he just turned the lamp off and left, closing the door.

You stared at the roof in disbelief, silently screaming. You rolled onto your side and into a ball.

"I hate that guy. His stupid face, stupid suit, stupid house, stupid family, stupid life." You cursed under your breath. "Even if he can hide behind this fake kindness, I still want to go home."

You sit up and punch the pillow in frustration. You keep glancing at the clock and give up on sleep, you get up and since it's the dead of night you expect nobody to be up. You quietly head downstairs, leaning against the wall as you approach the living room, where it sounds like the eldest members are talking.

"She's rude and unreasonable, why don't we take her back? Tell her parents the deals off." Johnny suggested.

Taeil agreed, "All of these demands, there's no reason to keep her."

"What's the point of being married if you have to have her under constant supervision? You need a wife to help you not a wild dog causing trouble-" That member didn't get to finish before you heard broken glass.

"She is my fiancé, and she will not be talked about like that in front of me." Taeyong's voice lowered. "I've heard all your complaints and I will still ignore them. She is not troublesome, she's scared thinking we kidnapped her. We owe her the chance to adjust. I know she'll fit in just fine in the future."

You leaned against the wall as you listened. Deal? What deal with your parents? You were told your parents were looking for you, it's why you were so desperate to escape, for them. But they sent you here? On purpose?

"Taeyong," Kun started, with a disappointed tone, "You are kind and thoughtful of Y/N and I praise your loyalty, but we need to think long term. All she's proven so far is that she is hotheaded and rebellious, she will only add to our stress and make more trouble."

"Enough," He leaned into his hand and sighed, "Leave me be for a moment."

"Yes sir." They said in sync, you quickly hid under the stairs as they passed by.

Once they are gone and you hear them settle into their rooms, you emerge. You stand in the doorway for a while, just observing. Eventually you work up the courage to walk over and sit in the chair beside him. He glances at you through his fingers before sitting up straight.

"Did we wake you?" He asked softly.

You shook your head, "I have something to ask you."

"Go ahead," He sighed, grabbing the mug in front of him.

"Why? Why are you so determined to marry me?" You ask.

The moment between you was different that all your other interactions. It was calm, and quiet. The fireplace allowed a soft warm glow, you both spoke softly. For once, it didn't feel like you were cornered and stressed, you felt like you were mutuals.

"I think if some parents are willing to give their child away so easily for some flimsy promise of protection, they don't deserve you. You are full of potential, I thought you'd be better off here. I was willing to put up with your attitude because I knew it must have been stressful adapting here." He explained, looking ahead and taking a sip from the drink.

You lowered your head, your hair covering your face. You didn't know what to think, you were so hurt by your parents. You felt alone and betrayed, but yet Taeyong's presence didn't let you spiral.

You reached out and held his hand with both of yours, "Thank you. I'm sorry for being so ungrateful and difficult. You were looking out for me and stood up for me. I didn't know. I will be better, I promise."

"I don't mind, take your time. I can wait." He smiled.

"Y'know, I guess I don't mind you and your home." You smiled back.

[kraiyne]

Ikemen Prince -Chevalier Michel x MC

Romantic Ending After Chapter 23 FANFIC 

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

SPOILER AHEAD

 01

After choosing Chevalier to be the king of Rhodolite, I’ve returned to my slightly boring life. Rio on the other hand, quitted his job at the palace and returned to work at the bookstore.

To make myself busy, I plan to do something that I really wanted. Rio gave his support to help me and I discussed a lot of things with the owner of the shop.

No matter how painful it is to be separated from Chevalier, the man I love, I won’t let myself live in sorrow. I chose this decision and I’m proud of it.

I spend weeks preparing for the business venture I've planned. Everything was going fine until something happened.

“Here you go MC, the famous rose-shaped pastries of Rhodolite!” Rio announced and put a plate on the table.

It was still morning and he’s lively as ever.  Rio sometimes visits me every morning to have breakfast with me. Now, he came with sweet pastries and told me that I have to have it.

“Good morning too Rio..” I said while trying to cover my yawn with a hand.

I was about to get the rose-shaped cookies when I felt my stomach turn-upside down. I covered my mouth unconsciously and rushed to the bathroom.

“MC, what happened?!” Rio rushed to my side.

Tears formed in the corner of my eyes as I was puking. It felt horrible. It was like I was puking my guts out. Rio held my hair to keep it from falling.

“Didn’t you like rose-shaped cookies? Are you okay now? “ there was a hint of guilt in his voice. 

“No, I think it's probably what I ate last night," I said trying to reassure him.

Rio insisted that I take a break from work.

"It's because you're working too hard! Take a break first, MC. "

"I'm fine, Rio. " 

But Rio, my friend is persistent. In the end, I agreed with him. I don't really have strength anyway.  

"If it worsens, I will accompany you to the doctor later."  He said.

I nodded. He excused himself to go to the bookstore and inform the owner. 

I drank the tea while I'm reading. It was one of the books King Chevalier gave me. 

The memories of us together in the castle rushed through my head. I felt a tug in my heart and I can't help but to shed a tear. 

"It hurts.. I miss you so much." I said in tears.

In an instant, I felt something again. I immediately rush to bathroom and puke again.

What is wrong with me? 

I tried to remember what happened to me these past few weeks. I have constant headaches. I always felt tired and now I'm puking.

I kept telling myself it's probably just stress but a memory played in my head. The night before I left the castle. King Chevalier and I …when.. we did…

"Impossible.." but it's just one night.

"Could I possibly be?" I said to myself. Instinctively, I held my stomach.

I need to confirm this.

—

In a village away from the town, I rode by a horse to look for a doctore. I canot risk anything especially I'm not sure yet about my situation. I left a note for Rio that I went for a walk. 

I made a few knocks on the door of a small clinic. The villagers led me here when I asked a while ago.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" A woman who looks nearly in her forties stood infront of the door. 

"Hi, uhmm. Can you examine me?" I said in a polite manner. 

She opened the door and said. "Oh, well then come inside."

I took a deep breath and nodded.

–

"MC! Where did you go?! I was worried that something might happened to you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Rio bombarded me with a lot of questions once I went back home.

"Rio.."

His face looks so worried as he examined me. He was waiting for me to continue.

His eyes darted to my hand, carressing my stomach..where my child rest..

The child of King Chevalier and I. Our proof of love.

"I'm pregnant. What should I do?"

—--

So I'm trying to finish what I've been trying to write after finishing Chevalier's Romantic Route. I have many what ifs after the Chapter 23 hahaha.