#{ Most of my day was always taken up by taking care of Morgan. } | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

criminalskies · 9 months

Note

ROME!! I’m so happy you’re back! I was worried for a hot minute there 😂

I have kind of a strange request, but I was wondering if you’d be able to do a Hotch x BAU FemReader based on the song Walk Me Home by P!nk?

I thought it could be really fitting if they just back from a difficult case or something. I know it’s kind of a different request, so no pressure of course! I just love your writing and thought I’d ask :)

WALK ME HOME.

Word count: 3.3k.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: ** this is not proofread, I just assaulted my keyboard with this song in mind. Hopefully the message shines through!** I love this idea! and I'm so happy you've found me again sweetheart

Tags: @montyfandomlove , @ssamorganhotchner , @hotchnerbau , @hotchs-babygirl , @beehive16 , @canuck-eh , @pastanoodles11

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Hotch sits in his office at the BAU with his head in his hands. The team had just landed from a child abduction case in Oregon, and up against a ticking clock, they were unable to save the last victim. Little Charlie Parker. Hotch looks down at his hands, hating the tinge of red he can see staring back at him that he knows isn’t really there. He was the one trying to keep the little boy’s blood inside his body as Morgan screamed for a Medic, having shot the unsub down. Most of the team went out to drink and dance their sorrows away, a few of them electing to just trudge home to bed. But Hotch couldn’t peel himself out of his chair. He couldn’t go home to his house full of Jack’s toys, scattered just like they had been in Charlie’s room after he was taken. Knowing he was never to return and that his blood is on Hotch’s hands is eating away at him. He resolves to finish all the paperwork tonight, hoping he’ll never have to think about this day again afterwards.

He’s halfway through his casualty report, the words beginning to blur together when your soft knock against his office door pulls him from his trance.

“Yes. Y/N?” He prompts you, trying very hard to pull his face into his usual frown and hide the storm clouds swirling behind his eyes. You’re always a bright spark in this office, he would hate to dull your sparkle with his own all-consuming darkness he can feel brewing in his heart, beginning to circulate his body, he hides the way he can feel his every artery beginning to pulsate with the familiar, dull aches of disappointment and fear.

“I just wanted to bring you something comforting.” You saunter over to his desk, placing a steaming hot cup of tea before him. “I hope you don’t mind, I was just watching you from my desk and, well. You look like you could use a friend, right about now. But you’re busy, so a nice drink will have to do.” Hotch notices you fiddling with the hem of your skirt as you offer him a worried smile, you’re trying to take care of him. His chest warms at the realization but his mind flips the switch on him.

“My youngest agent, new to the field, is trying to look out for me? I think these things are supposed to go the other way, agent Y/L/N.” He doesn’t miss the flash of worry behind your eyes that you think you’ve overstepped. He sees you take your wrist in your other hand, squeezing it to stop its trembling. “I appreciate you looking after me. Very much. Thank you.” He tries quickly to reassure you that he’s not insulted, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. He feels rather flattered to know you think about him enough to want to help. It isn’t often people take it upon themselves to care for their boss.

“It’s nothing, really. But Hotch, it’s past midnight, are you planning on sleeping in your own bed tonight?” His head whips down to look at his watch, he has no idea how three hours had gone by working on a report that should never take him longer than one hour, he lets out a sigh he hopes you don’t hear and rubs a hand over his brow, attempting to smooth it. “You don’t want to go home, do you?” Hotch really hates working with profilers when he’s waging war in his own mind. You can always see straight through him. You’ve only been here a few months but already you can read the stoic leader like an open book. He’s much too tired to keep up an act that’s anywhere near believable, so he settles on telling you the truth, or at least half the truth.

“I’m not looking forward to it, no.” He keeps his eyes trained on his pen in his hand instead of on you. He can bear to show you this much of himself, but he’s not sure he can handle seeing the pity flood your eyes when he does. When you don’t reply, instead moving around the room, he’s forced to look up. But he doesn’t see pity or even sadness behind your eyes, instead he finds resolve. You’re packing his manila folders into his briefcase neatly, ensuring you mark where he had them open to with a clip. “What’s happening?” He hates how small his voice sounds, but he’s far too tired to analyze why you’re packing his desk up at this hour.

“We’re gonna go home, Hotch.” He tries to blink away his confusion, his mouth falling open and closing again as he tries to find the right words to ask. “Calm down, honey, I don’t mean it like that. But we’re gonna go to my place. I can’t let you sleep on this couch. You’ll be grumpy with us all week because your back is more kinked than a pretzel. Consider this a public service.” Hearing you call him honey and express your concerns for his chiropractic health are doing nothing to aid his fried brain. He still can’t summon any coherent words to combat your accusations of him being grumpy.

“Okay.” He mentally smacks his head on his desk for being reduced to such a bumbling idiot so quickly by you, but it is getting late and he hasn’t slept well all week. He’ll let this slide. You can’t help but think how adorable he looks with his jaw slack with surprise and his thick lashes batting at you in his tired state. You go to his coat rack, bringing his coat over to him and helping him get an arm in each sleeve, you carry his briefcase out for him. He feels himself following you as if he’s floating above his weary feet. He elects not to worry yet about the fact that he’s only known you three months and yet he would probably follow you anywhere you ask.

You lead him to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.

“Aren’t we going home? We should go to the parking garage, then.” You swat Hotch’s hand away as he reaches to press P1.

“No, silly. I only live a ten minute walk away. I don’t drive here unless there’s a thunderstorm outside.” Hotch’s eyebrows shoot up at the realization he’s been unknowingly letting his new recruit walk herself home in the dark so late at night, when your place is on the way to his. How could he have never offered you a ride home? He never noticed you don’t bring your car keys or ride up from the parking levels with him in the mornings.

“Oh, of course. Well then, I’m glad I can walk with you. I wouldn’t want you alone this time of night in the city.” Hotch doesn’t miss the way a hue of pink works its way up your cheeks, warming your face.

“You’re not walking me home, Hotchner. I’m walking you home. Come on” the doors ping open to the ground floor and you take him by the hand, leading him out of the elevator. His eyes are glued to you as you smile at the security guards, giving them a wave. Clearly, this isn’t your first time leaving after midnight, if you’re this friendly with the guards. Then again, he muses, maybe this is just the way you are with people. You care for everybody so genuinely, so fully. You offer people nothing short of your full attention. As you push open the front doors of the building, feeling the cool night air dance around the two of your bodies, Hotch’s attention is drawn to his large hand in your smaller one. He can feel the darkness that wanted to overtake him earlier pooling away from your touch, the light in your body warding off the shadows in his.

He wipes his other hand against his coat, still thinking he can now see that red tint under the dim streetlights. You must have felt his grip on your own hand tighten as you turn to look at him. He looks at the ground, not wanting you to see the waves of guilt crashing over him as he visualizes Charlie’s lifeless body on the pavement, he can feel the wet crimson blood on his hands, pooling between his fingers as-

“Hey. What’s going on in there?” You bring your hand holding his briefcase up to point at his temple.

“I just can’t stop thinking about the case. If we’d gotten the address even five minutes earlier, we could’ve saved Charlie. I could’ve-”

“No, Hotch.” You stop, dead in your tracks, grabbing his lapel in your fist to shake some sense into him. “There was nothing we could have done. We didn’t kill that boy. Harry Mulligan did. He would have done the same exact thing the moment he realized we had him surrounded, whether we were five minutes earlier or five hours earlier. He was a sadist and he would never have let Charlie escape that unharmed. Hotch, we did everything that we could.” You let go of his lapel, smoothing your hand over it now. “You did everything you could, Aaron. Everything. Because of your quick thinking that man is never going to be able to harm another child again.” Hotch finally looked down at you when you used his first name, seeing not one flicker of doubt on your face. You really believed what you were saying, and he trusts your opinion. He nods his head, closing his eyes. You can see he’s biting back tears as he lets out the first full breath since he set foot into the unsub’s home.

Hotch’s breath gets caught in his throat as he feels your arms encircle his waist, the side of your face colliding with his chest. He brings his arms up around you as well. You barely hear his quiet ‘thank you’ whispered into your hairline as the two of you stand there for a moment, basking in each other’s comfort, before you break away from him, keeping one arm tucked around him, you sniff and start walking, pulling the man beside you. He keeps his arm around you as well, choosing to deal with the professional repercussions of physically embracing his employee tomorrow. For now, the two of you need some sleep.

Aaron breathes in deeply, smelling fresh cut grass from the gardens outside your neighboring apartment building as he decides to let himself enjoy something nice for once, and not turn it over and over in his mind until his image of it becomes twisted and dark. He’s going to let a good thing be. He’s going to let someone help him. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to return the favor to you in turn, but for now, he’s just going to bask in the light you’re offering him, instead of crawling back to the darkness.

You open the door to your apartment, switching on the lights and running into action to pick up some stray takeaway containers and a discarded t-shirt off the couch and coffee table. “Sorry for the mess” you say, embarrassed that your perfectionist boss who definitely neatly irons and folds his underwear – is seeing your messy apartment.

“Don’t be, Y/L/N. It’s perfect.” He looks around, seeing all your colorful paintings and plant pots, with lush greenery around the space, he breathes in the beautiful floral smell from your diffuser as you flutter about the space, switching on all your warm lamps, which cast the most beautiful, soft light around the rooms. He wonders how it is that your place feels twice as homely as his own house does these days, and this is only his first ever time setting foot inside of it. That’s just the person you are, he supposes. You’re the kind to always have out fresh cut flowers in the living room, fresh baked cookies in the kitchen, you’re never unprepared to make someone feel warm and welcomed. It only seems fitting that your apartment is the same.

“Okay. Well, I have a guest bedroom, which has blankets, spare pillows, toothbrush, razors, some drinks in the mini fridge, face masks, anything you need, really. It’s right this way.” You start down the hallway, flicking on more salt lamps, illuminating more and more of your very warm welcoming home. The guest room is no exception, evidently stocked with everything a guest could want, the bed looks so inviting, the plush linen pulled back, ready for Aaron to just climb in and rest his weary bones.

“This is amazing, thank you.” He turns to look you in the eyes, hoping you can see the enormity of his gratitude that you invited him here, and didn’t leave him to sleep on his child-sized government issued couch - if you can even call it that, it’s about as plush and comfortable as a wooden coffee table.

“No worries at all, Hotchner. I’ll see you in the morning. But I’m the first door on the left down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight, boss.” Hotch never realized you’re the only person he lets call him Hotchner, because it doesn’t grate at him when you say it the way it does with everyone else. He tries to ignore the pang in his heart when you say goodbye, he supposes it’ll still be nicer to know you’re nearby than it would be to sleep by himself at home but still, he wishes you could be with him. So he doesn’t feel so alone.

“What’s wrong?” You enquire. Crap. He forgot to respond. Ever the open book, Hotch must not have covered his disappointment well. You can see straight through him, as usual. He feels almost naked under your gaze, but even that doesn’t make him uncomfortable. He feels more safe and more warm, even virtually stripped naked before you than he would feel fully clothed in a padded cell. He knows he trusts you implicitly, you wouldn’t even need to say jump before he would ask how high.

“Nothing, I just. It’s silly, really. Goodnight, Y/N.” He turns towards the ensuite to go clean his teeth and hopefully escape your leveling stares.

“Hotch, I don’t think you’re capable of doing anything silly. Please, tell me.” He stops in his tracks, he’s unable to deny you anything when you plead with him like that.

“Well… I just don’t think I can handle being alone, not tonight.” His eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort, but he sees your lips form a smile, one that grows until it reaches your eyes, and he hopes you don’t find his admission funny.

“I understand, truthfully I don’t think I can either, I’ll just go change into my pj’s, I’ll be two minutes, tops.” You pad down the hall, an extra spring in your step as Hotch smiles to himself, peeling the layers back from the bed and discarding some of the throw pillows on the armchair in the corner. You return in an oversized barbie t-shirt and some red plaid pajama pants, holding a similar set of clothes out for him. He takes them with a soft ‘thank you’

“I’d wait to thank me, Hotchner. Go try them on, first.” He pads into the bathroom, closing the door and taking off his suit before realizing what you meant. He emerges donning his care-bears tee which is even a little oversized on him, and the blue pants which stop a little high on his ankles, but he was able to adjust the drawstring so they hang nicely off his hips.

You have to cover your hands with your mouth to hide your giggle at the sight of your rugged, handsome boss now rocking a bedtime-bear pajama set in your guest room, but Hotch, ever the good sport, gives you a sad twirl, letting you take him in.

“I’d better not find any nanny cam footage of this in Garcia’s batcave tomorrow, Y/L/N.” You let out a breathy laugh as you climb into the far side of the bed, taking the side closest to the door. Hotch tries to push down the warmth erupting in his chest both at the sound, and at your gesture since sleeping by the door is normally a courtesy he’ll extend to any roommates on cases, knowing that if anyone were to enter the room, he would be the first in harm’s way. He climbs into his side of the bed, letting out a long yawn.

“Goodnight, Hotchner.” You whisper, turning out the bedside lamp and rolling to face him, the room is still illuminated from the lamp in the far end of the hall, just enough for you to see his eyes searching yours.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Thank you for walking me home.” He whispers back. He hears you shiver as a draft enters the room, and he finds himself reaching out to pull you into him before he can think to stop it. He breathes a sigh of relief when you nuzzle into his side, tucking one arm under his waist, another underneath him against the mattress, and one of your legs becomes tangled in his own.

“Someone has to take care of you, Hotch. Everybody needs a little care and kindness, even the bossman. Thank you for letting me take care of you.” Hotch feels his eyes welling up as he realizes he hasn’t been held like this, so close to another person, like he’s small and delicate – in a long time. Actually, he’s never been held like this, he feels your fingertips running over his stomach, soothing his worries away. The hot bubbling feeling of never being enough seems to melt away under your touch. He clenches his jaw, willing his sobs to die in his throat before you have to hear him reduced to a blubbering mess by you. He feels a salty tear stream out of his eye and into his ear, but a hand reaches out to wipe away its trail. He catches your gaze, looking at him so tenderly. You shift in the bed so you’re higher up than he is, and you pull his head onto your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat, loud and strong. His tears keep streaming onto your shirt as he fists at some of the fabric, he was unaware how much bottled-up emotion he had just below the surface, but you’ve let it all pour out of him. Your hands rub up and down his back, as you press kisses to his crown. He can hear you whispering reassurances against his hair as his breaths begin to even out again, his choked gasps becoming half breaths. He falls asleep in your embrace, completely vulnerable in your arms, and he gets the most restful night of sleep he’s had in months. Pressed tightly against you, you hold him like he’s small and delicate because he is. You helped pull down his concrete walls he had surrounded himself with in recent years, revealing the scared, lonely little boy within. One who does need to be held, to be loved. To be shown kindness and warmth. He may not have been able to save the little boy in the field today. But you saved the little boy in Aaron. You showed him that even with all the wrong going on outside, he doesn’t have to march through it all alone.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #fluff #hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you

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im-am-not-a-weenie · 1 year

Note

The gang with a reader who gets taken by the O’Driscolls. Also, I am very excited to find someone who writes for Red Dead! I love your writings! 💖

Omg thank you, getting this request made me so happy lol sorry it took A while to finally get to life’s been crazy I’m just gonna do how they react to the news and how they save you (only happy endings for our cowboys) if you want a more detailed version I’d be happy to write it 🤠

Not beta read

🍓The gang when the reader gets taken by the O’Driscolls🍓

Arthur,John,Sean,Hosea,Dutch

GN reader

See end for a/n

🍓Arthur Morgan

As soon as he hears the news he immediately thinks it’s his fault. How could he let someone get to you

He starts to assume the worst “what if I’m too late.” or “it’s my fault I shouldn’t have left them alone.”

His next reaction is to go out and get you, not thinking about the consequences or what could happen to him. He just needs you to be ok

Hosea has to step in and be the voice of reason “you couldn’t have known Arthur, I know you love them but we can’t just go in there guns a-blazing we need a plan”

After they get you back the first thing Arthur does is hug you, being gentle just in case you were hurt.

“Arthur baby it’s ok I’m not gonna break.” “I know doll, just let me hold you for awhile.”

And you let him. You find yourself cradling his head in your hands and wiping away a few tears (ok it’s a lot of tears but you’re crying to)

“It’s ok Arthur I’m back I’m not going anywhere.” “Damn right you’re not you aren’t leaving without me every again”

And you’re ok with that

🍓John Marston

John doesn’t know what to do at first. He sits there in shock for a couple of minutes.

He probably would’ve stayed there longer is Arthur hadn’t snapped him outta it

“Hold what exactly happened” “I’m sorry John it was a job gone bad, we didn’t know they were waitin for us we were ambushed.” “Are they?” “Alive yes, we’ll get them back John I promise”

And get you back they did

I don’t think the others have seen John so focused on a job

“John you should probably get some sleep, and when was the last time you ate.” “I’m fine Dutch.” “Ok son, don’t worry we’ll get them back”

When they do get you back you can’t pull John off of you, literally like for the next three days they have to pull it off of you

Everyone just got tired of it and just decided leave him be, not that you mind

Everyone else might not know it but John has always been a cuddle bug it just took a traumatic event to show it publicly (but that’s neither here nor there)

“John, sweetheart I’m not going anywhere.” “And you won’t be for like….the rest of your life”

🍓Sean McGuire

Sean is heartbroken all he says and First is “oh” and walks off it’s not that he doesn’t care but it’s that he needs to process

Arthur fines him starring of into space with a lost look in his eyes, he and the rest of the boys have never seen Sean so effected by anything

The one who was always smiling and laughing and probably the loudest was a broken mess on the ground

“What happened out there Arthur.” “honestly I couldn’t tell ya Sean, we were walkin in town they said they needed to grab something from the store and all I heard was the scream before they got ‘em.“

“We’ll get her back Sean.” “We better, them O’Driscolls are going to feel all the pain they’ve felt and more”

They find you passed out, gaged, and tied up in a chair in the corner

You think you’re dreaming at first, the voice bringing you back to conciseness couldn’t be your Sean you struggle to try to open you’re eyes

You felt a hand on your face caressing your cheek you jerk trying to get it off

“Don’t fucking touch me you dirty bastard” “shhh, lass it’s ok it me you don’t have to fight anymore” “Sean?”

He holds you the hold ride back and them some. Trying to help you with the aftermath and trauma you most likely gained (unless ur built different) every time he gets up you hold on tighter

“What’s wrong?” “What if they take me again Sean? “Don’t worry love, you’ll never be taken away from me I promise”

And that a promise you can trust

🍓Hosea matthews

His calm and collected demeanor is gone, well not totally he still wants to get you out as soon as possible but also as safely

He goes into action mood, he moves so fast no one else has time to question or process

“Hosea let’s just think about this more a moment.” “I did think about it Dutch and getting them sooner is better than later.” “Now let’s just-“ “damnit Dutch I’m going to get them now it’s up to you if you wanna come with me or stay here”

The whole gang pitches in on this one because no one dares to say no to angry Hosea or get in his way

The gang works quick and quietly Hosea is all rage until he finally sees your face you only had a few bruises but he will worry that at camp he just wants to get you home

As soon as you have your arms around him you’re sobbing and pulling closer or as closer as you can possibly get

He’ll hold you close too and gives you what you need he rubbed circles on your back and tries to calm you don’t be let’s be honest he’s crying too

“Shh it’s alright love, I got you…that’s right deep breaths, can you do that for me baby c’mon breath with me” putting your hand in his chest so you can match his breaths

As You start to calm you can hear his praises “There you go love that’s it”

you look up to meet his eyes

“Hi.” “Hi love.” “Thanks for coming to get me.” “My dear i’d fallow you too the ends of the earth.”

🍓Dutch van der linde

The news hits Dutch the hardest

He starts to panic, he can’t lose someone to the O’Driscolls again

He starts pacing and muttering as he’s walking back and forth he starts to fidget with his hands

The gang hasn’t seen their leader like this it makes the rest of the group nervous too

“Dutch if you keep that up you’ll start to run yourself into the ground.” “Huh?”

He hasn’t noticed the pacing what felt like seconds was actually minutes. 30 to be exact he decides it’s time to do something. Time for a great Dutch van der Linde speech

“All right gang as you know a tragedy that has struck today, we can sit here and think about the worse OR we can go out there and show those O’Driscolls what happens when they mess with us”

Of course everyone was with Dutch

When they found you the first thing Dutch did was grab you and lift you up in an tight embrace spinning you around

“Dutch baby.” “Yes dear?” “I can’t breath”

He immediately let you go well not totally but he let up a bit

You reach up to cradle his face in you hand to which he immediately lent into the touch . You wipe a tear from his face telling him how you’ll never leave him again to which his response is

“And I you”

🍓Hey everyone I’m so sorry if this absolutely sucked lol but I tried it’s been awhile since I posted or wrote anything but I wanted to put something out again sorry but this was not beta read so I apologize for the grammar and spelling errors, also thanks for all of the well wishes and I hope to start posting regularly again and finish everyone’s requests love you all-Rhys🍓

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #john marston #john marston x reader #red dead redemption 2 #sean macguire x reader #sean macguire #dutch van der linde x reader #rdr2 headcanons #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews x reader #hosea matthews #red dead redemption 2 head cannons

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azures-bazar · 1 year

Note

Oi there ! I love your RDR2 one shots (mostly the ones where Arthur's being soft af) !!

Could you make one of Arthur being sick and being taken care of by female!reader ??

Thanks in advance, love your work !

High Fever

Hello there anon, thank you for your request !

First of, I'm sorry it took me more than two weeks :') My job is taking most of my free-time as I kinda overwork (yep). Keeping the job I've got at the moment is a real battle, so writing takes much more time than I expected.

Anyway, I hope you'll still like this one-shot. I'm sorry for the mistakes, it's badly written due to the lack of free time I've got :')

Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader

Word count : 3.8k

Short summary : Arthur came back to camp overwhelmingly sick, and you are not leaving him alone !

A/Note : Arthur’s tent has flaps and he’s sharing it with reader !

Tags : Arthur is sick, some fluff (as always), soft, taking care of someone ill, chapter 3, summer breeze, small whump aftercare (somehow), flu, vastly inspired by IRL

The sun was shining brightly, the morning weather was already quite warm. It was not a surprise, you had been warned about Lemoyne’s overall hot summer weather, but the climate was very different from the one you used to enjoy while the gang was hiding in the Heartlands. You still loved this weather, especially when you had some time to look at the scenery which was surrounding you. Beautiful tall trees, a lake which appeared to be endless, some islands ahead of you… something about Clemens Point felt magical, if not even a little safe. Who would have guessed the Van der Linde gang was hiding here ?

What made you feel even more safe was the tent you were sharing with Arthur, for a variety of reasons. You had been brought in the gang by Dutch after escaping the law following a minor bank robbery you had performed alone, somewhere back in 1893. Since the very first day you had spent with the rest of the gang, Arthur had displayed a lot of interest in being around you, from helping you to use a bow to spending time drawing by your side. Your rather friendly relationship slowly turned into a very awkward romance when Arthur gifted you with a large bouquet of wild flowers, dropping a kiss on your lips while watching the sunset from a hill.

"I… I think I really like you." this single sentence he had told you made you go on an incredible journey of two outlaws being in love

As of 1899, you and Arthur had been sharing his tent for about a year. You could easily remember him holding your hand while asking Dutch to move your cot to his quarters. Indeed, you had slept in Arthur’s tent on a variety of occasions : on rainy nights, when the weather was too cold, when someone of you was drunk, and, of course, when you wanted to have some fun. It had taken two days for Dutch to finally accept Arthur’s request, knowing that some of your nights would obviously not be as quiet as his… and god knows how right he was !

You rarely slept on your cot, mostly resting into Arthur’s embrace, getting up with the morning light and birds chirping around you. However, that day, instead of peacefully waking up with the light from the outside passing between your tent’s flaps, Arthur’s continuous sneezes and soft coughs had dragged you out of your well-deserved rest. Being on guard duty all day long doing mostly nothing was boring… and somewhat tiring. You had chosen to sleep on your cot that night as you went to rest earlier than the rest of the gang.

"Ugh…" you sighed, shifting from your cot

You stretched and made your way to Arthur’s bed, triggered by the sound of his sneezes. You could remember him coming back one day ago from a journey to Ambarino which had lasted for two days. Since Arthur came back, you could easily hear him cough quite often, at any time of the day. The sneezing had started to occur last night, much to your biggest dismay as you just wished to get some sleep.

"Arthur ?" you whispered

Arthur’s eyes cracked open as he noticed you were standing nearby. He greeted you with a sweet smile, which caused you to put your frustration aside, melting from the inside as you placed your hand on his forehead. Thankfully enough, Morgan was not feverish. At least… not yet.

"Did I wake you up ?" Arthur asked, a little confused

"You’re sick." you sighed

"No, I ain’t."

You shook your head, asking Arthur to stand up to prove he was in good shape. He even proceeded putting his clothes on for you not to worry about him, causing you to smirk a little. Whenever you were sick, Arthur was always the one taking care of you. And, right at this moment, as he was getting sick himself, he proudly hid his illness behind his usual smile and rough voice.

"See ? I’m fine." he said, leaving the tent

Arthur quickly headed out to chop some wood while you looked at him with a rather concerned expression. As far as you could recall, whenever Arthur was sick, there were at least two phases. The ‘No I’m fine’ phase, which was the one he usually displayed whenever he was starting to feel a little sick. He would still keep doing chores, going hunting and not even care about his health, overworking himself to please Dutch anytime he needed.

The second one was the ‘I’m dying’ phase, which, as its name suggested, was triggered whenever Arthur felt horribly sick. During this phase, Arthur usually behaved like a man on his deathbed, begging for the mercy of whatever was above, crying like a child until the symptoms would slowly fade away. Indeed, you did not want Arthur to get to this phase because not only it was a pitiful sight for such man, but also because you already had some hard time acting serious when he was behaving like a young boy.

For a few hours, you watched Arthur take care of some chores while minding your own business, up until Morgan stopped walking around and started coughing heavily. You watched him cough, nearly falling on his knees as you quickly carried a sack of grain to Pearson’s wagon. You quickly walked towards Arthur, who was slowly trying to breathe normally.

"You okay ?" you asked

"I’m fine." Arthur answered in a rather weak way

"No you ain’t."

You moved closer to Arthur, raising your hand to touch his forehead, causing him to chuckle. Of course, Morgan was a tough man who did not need anyone’s help, and seeing you wanting to take care of him made him feel very amused by the situation. Yes, he was sick… and there was no need to hide it from you.

"My god, your forehead is burning !" you gasped. "Get back to your tent !"

"Y/N, m’fine…-"

"To your tent, right now !"

Arthur noticed how persuasive you were, causing him to chuckle, raising his hands in the air as you pushed him towards his tent, quickly informing both Dutch and Hosea, who were having a talk nearby, that their boy was sick was would not do anything today. They both knew Arthur was doing most of the work around camp, he definitely deserved some rest ! Especially being this sick !

"Oh, I’ll go make a Ginseng tonic !" Hosea said, quickly heading to his tent

"Are you sure you can handle this grumpy giant cowboy alone, dear Y/N ?" Dutch asked you, glancing at Arthur who was sitting on his cot grumbling something while crossing his arms and legs

"Don’t worry, Dutch." you smiled. "I’ll take care of your son !"

Dutch chuckled, watching you get to your tent before closing its flaps. The single view of Arthur, nearly pouting on his cot, his arms crossed on his chest and his feet drawing circles on the ground made you smile. What a funny sight it was to witness such a brawny man and well known cowboy with a bounty on his head behaving like a grumpy child who was refusing to get some rest !

"Take ‘em boots off, Morgan." you said

"Y/N, I ain’t gonna stay in my tent all day long, the others need me."

"You’re staying here. The others can take care of some chores for a day, you’re staying in this tent."

"But I…-"

"I said you’re staying in this tent. Now take your boots and pants off."

Arthur grumbled and obliged, calmly removing his boots. He loved taking care of you, he absolutely enjoyed having you rest into his embrace, comfort you after some nightmares you had, watch over you whenever you were feeling sick… but was not used being taken care of. He was a grown man who did not even need anyone’s help. Having such a beautiful lady like you watching over him made him feel both awkward and incredibly good, even if he was to proud to say it. He proceeded removing his gun belt and satchel while staring at you with a defiant smile.

"Wanna see me naked, sweetheart ?" he smirked

"No, just take your pants off."

You helped Arthur removing his suspenders and pants, leaving him in his union suit. You carefully passing your hands on his shoulders, wiping away some dirt while pushing him on his cot. He did not even dare showing any signs of resistance, laying down his bed with a sigh as his head rested on a pillow which was once yours.

"M’fine, Y/N, I swear." he sighed

"You ain’t a good liar with me. I’ll go get some blankets."

"This is humiliatin’…"

Arthur’s words made you shiver, causing you to sit beside him. How could he believe being sick was humiliating when probably every single human being could catch a cold ? You placed your hand on his burning head, letting out a soft sigh before looking into his green orbs.

"It ain’t. You’re sick, and it happens. You’re spending so much time trying to do chores, doing hunting, doing bounties, robbing places… just for us to survive. Now, allow yourself to rest for a bit. You deserve it."

"But the others…-"

"The others will be just fine. Close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll come back to check on you."

Despite not agreeing with you, Arthur closed his eyes as you gently covered him with one of his blankets. You looked at his grumpy face with a little smirk, listening to him grumbling a few words in his three-days beard before leaving the tent to do some chores around camp. What a literal child Arthur was to act like this ! You often wondered how Hosea, Dutch and Ms. Grimshaw had managed to take care of him back when he was a young boy, especially knowing that Arthur’s behaviour once used to be similar to Sean’s.

You came back to check on Arthur after taking care of some chores, being given Hosea’s tonic. His eyes cracked open as soon as you walked back inside the tent. He rose on his elbows, getting you with one of his absolutely amazing smiles. You would have killed for this smile, definitely. They were so genuine and worth it… and Arthur was the most handsome man you knew !

"Did you get some sleep ?" you smiled

"No." Arthur shook his head. "I ain’t gonna sleep in the middle of the day like that. I ain’t lil' Jack to take naps. "

"Arthur… You take care of me when I’m sick, lemme do the same for you. I brought you Hosea’s tonic."

You walked closer to Arthur’s cot and sat next to him, pouring a very strange coloured liquid into his tint cup. Hosea had told you about its ingredients, but you did not expect such a yellowish tone… and awful smell. At first sight, it really looked like some snake oil, and the terrible scent coming from it did not help at all.

"I ain’t drinkin’ that." Arthur chuckled. "It smells like cat piss."

"Arthur, please." you smiled back

"Ugh… fine."

Arthur swallowed the tonic in one go, coughing as he quite disliked its taste, nearly throwing up as he felt this strange liquid go down his throat. He knew that taste and that smell, it wasn’t the first time Hosea was making him a tonic. He had spent a vast majority of his teenage years drinking a variety of them, getting sick quite often. He could remember most of them, but the Ginseng tonic was probably the one he had drank the most throughout his time in the gang.

"My god, it tastes terrible !" Arthur gagged

"Yep, but Hosea says it’s the best for you !"

According to Hosea, this tonic would put Arthur back on his feet in no time. You trusted Matthews’ expertise, having watched him carefully mix the Ginseng’s petals with some water and some gold berries you had brought him a day earlier. Just like Arthur, you also had the opportunity to drink some of these tonics throughout your life with the gang… enough for you to feel a vast amount of compassion as you watched Arthur struggle with his drink.

"Now get some rest, Arthur." you smiled. "I’ll be back in a few hours, I just need to help Pearson cook the stew and finishing sewing my dress."

Arthur did not respond, only watching you going out of the tent, sighing as he closed his eyes once more. He could not escape ! Arthur started dozing off after a few seconds, listening to Dutch and Molly arguing nearby his tent, to Sean’s terrible jokes by the crate of whiskey, and to an attempt of Bill to bond with Kieran over a bottle of beer. Something made him feel relaxed, the way you took care of him made him feel relaxed. He secretly adored it, despite not mentioning it.

You came back a few hours later, as promised, having sent Dutch, Hosea and Tilly to look for Arthur every thirty minutes or so to make sure he was still fine. As you came back inside the tent, you found Arthur groaning, sweating so heavily that your heart nearly stopped at the sight of this poor man in such pain.

"Oh my god, Arthur… how do you feel ? What hurts ?"

You helped Arthur up, softly taking off his sweat-soaked union suit. You wanted to make it quick, and Arthur’s wobbly arms did not help at all. He groaned a little when you tried taking his arms out of his shirt, feeling an intense pain coming from the back of his head. You managed to take out some old cloth and plunged it into a bucket of cold water to wipe away some of Arthur’s sweat.

"Head hurts…" he groaned

"I know, sweetheart. I’ll just clean you up a little and you’ll lie down."

"Sweetheart". You called him sweetheart, a word you never used to qualify him… Arthur was quick to give you some nicknames, from variations of your own name to pet names you adored. Your heart stopped beating for a second as you awaited Arthur’s response, being greeted with his sweet smile and painful sight, slowly passing the cloth on his shoulders.

"Lemme do this m’self, dove…"

"Arthur, it’s not…-"

Arthur tried getting the wet cloth from your hands but ended up loosing balance. You quickly caught him before he would hit the ground, sighing as he whined, burying his head in the crook of your neck while his arms remained wobbly. How humiliating it was for him to be at your whole mercy ! Such a tough outlaw, skilled gunslinger… barely able to move his arms without whining like a sick child ! He was not fully himself, but somewhat happy to be taken care of.

"M’sorry…" he whispered. "I hate being like that…"

"It’s okay. Stay still for me, alright ?"

"Sure…"

You were worried about Arthur’s health, but somewhat amused by what you were seeing at the moment. What a child… you knew that all men from the gang, no matter how tough they were, often behaved as if they were on their deathbeds whenever they were sick. A simple headache had led Bill to pretend he was dying, Dutch had once remained in his bed for three days because of a nasal congestion. You knew that Arthur was just a little sick at this moment, believing he was about to die too.

"There you go." you said, passing the wet cloth over Arthur’s torso. "Let’s put on a new union suit."

"I’m dying…"

"No, you ain’t."

Arthur used the last bits of energy he had to shrug. You quickly lifted his heavy legs up to get the bottom of his union suit off, not even bothering about him being naked. You had seen him undressed quite often, this wasn’t much of a discovery ! You wanted him dressed into something, that poor man was sick ! You carefully slipped a red union suit on him, buttoning it while Arthur looked at you. His eyes were half-closed, a soft smile was blooming on his face. You could easily tell he was not fully himself, just by the look he was giving you.

"Are you hungry ?" you asked him, taking his face between your hands

"I’d eat you raw, honeybee…" Arthur responded, his eyes twitching. "Maybe with some cranberry sauce, along with potatoes…"

"Well… seems like you ain’t. Lay down."

Arthur’s words made you blush, but his health was far too much important at the moment. He laid down, moaning as soon as his head touched his pillow. As you were on your way out of his tent to get him some stew, Arthur whined, causing you to shiver and turn back. He was looking at you, giving you a sick puppy glance, summoning enough energy to spread his arms wide for you to embrace him.

"Don’ go…" he whimpered

"Oh, Arthur…"

You slowly walked back to his cot, your heart was fluttering as you could not even resist these puppy eyes. Arthur, even being so sick and probably a little needy, was still the charming man you adored. The most handsome man you had ever met, the sweetest gentleman gifting you with flowers, gems, antique alcohol bottles… who would have thought such an angelic-looking man was an outlaw and had blood on his hands ?

"Feeling needy, huh ?" you smiled, passing your hand through his sweaty hair

"I’m gonna die…" Arthur whined. "Don’ leave me… I’m so sick…"

"I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I’ll come back with another tonic, wait for me."

Arthur whined as he nuzzled his head into his pillow, allowing you to grab one of his blankets and cover him up to the shoulders. You passed your hand through his dirty blonde hair, causing him to smile a little before watching you leaving the tent. You nearly felt bad for leaving him ! You grabbed a bowl of stew and quickly ate it as Hosea gave you another of his tonics.

"He must drink it before midnight, it will help him rest." Matthews told you as he gave you the bottle

"Alright. I’ll make sure of it."

Hosea smiled and patted your shoulder before heading towards his bed made of a variety of different blankets, kissing the picture he had of his wife, laying down while keeping his eyes open for a moment. He watched you walk towards your tent, absolutely delighted to know his boy was having you around him. What a treasure you were for the gang, indeed ! So sweet, adorable and caring ! You headed back to your tent with Hosea’s tonic and were met with a rather pleasant sight.

"Oh." you smiled

Arthur was asleep laying on his left side, facing the sunset. You slowly walked in to get a better glimpse of him, not even wanting to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, so sweet ! Who would have thought this good-looking man, having beautiful green orbs hidden under his eyelids and long eyelashes which could trigger anyone’s jealousy, had blood on his hands ? At first sight, nobody could have guessed Arthur was an outlaw rather than being just a really handsome man. What a shame that the only one not accepting his beauty was himself…

While you were away from your tent, Arthur had battled to keep himself awake. He had pushed his pillow on the ground, not finding it comfortable enough, dragging the blanket over his body, then kicking it away, then dragging it back again. He was sleeping so peacefully that you did not even want to move the blanket a little over him. You smiled as you calmly sat by him, checking his temperature by kissing his forehead.

"The fever’s gone…" you whispered

"Y/N ?…" Arthur mumbled

"No, no, sweetheart… go back to sleep…"

The soft sound of Arthur’s whine could be heard as his eyes cracked open. You expected to be met with a rather grumpy sight for interrupting his sleep but, as soon as his vision got clear enough to see what was around, Morgan smiled to you. Your sole presence had triggered a sudden happiness as he calmly took your hand and held it close to his chest. He liked it, he liked the way you took care of him. It felt good to have such an angel like you around, stitching up his wounds, giving him medicine, watching over him as he slept… he felt safe.

You were melting, you felt butterflies fly in your belly as you kept analysing Arthur’s beautiful features and lovely smile. His usually green eyes had turned blue to the tears of pain he might have shed earlier, and due to this flu he had caught. What a handsome man he was ! Even with his high fever, dark rings under his eyes, sweaty hair… you could have given anything to prove him how handsome he was. Anything. Taking care of him while he was sick was giving you the perfect opportunity to enjoy his presence a little more, to admire this talented gunslinger and very skilled artist, whose large hands always came up with amazing and refined drawings.

"Was dreamin’ of you…" he whispered

"Oh ?" you smiled, gently caressing his hair. "What was I doing ?"

"You’re wearin’ a white dress and a flower crown… and you’re singin’… that you loved me and all…"

"Oh, did you like it ?"

"Of course, ‘cause I love you…"

This vast amount of butterflies could not stop flying in your belly, just this single sentence made your heart flutter. Arthur never truly voiced all his love for you, but being so tired and ill… his ‘introvert-filter’ was quick to disappear, as well as his overall grumpy behaviour. Arthur slowly rolled aside, patting his cot for you to lay down next to him. And, with such an adorable puppy glance, how could you refuse ?

"Wait up, Arthur." you smiled. "Lemme just get my clothes off."

It took you just a few seconds to take your shirt and skirt off, quickly laying next to Arthur who nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist while letting out a long and very relaxed moan. You chuckled as you felt his beard tickle you clavicles, his heavy breath getting slower and slower as he slowly dozed off in your embrace.

"I love you too, silly man." you smiled, kissing his forehead

Arthur moaned in return, making you smile as his grip on your waist tightened, passing your hands in his hair, caressing his skin, dropping a few subtle kisses on his forehead. What a man you had here, what a peculiar feller ! A literal bear whenever he was doing fine, but a young child whenever he was sick. You did not mind, you loved him for what he was, you loved him entirely. And you would nurse him back to health, whatever the price was. You did not care about getting sick yourself, Arthur’s recovery mattered the most at the moment.

Nothing else mattered.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #whump #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #azurestales #sick arthur morgan #rdr2 #aftercare #who wants some sick Arthur Morgan #this is so bad omg I need to sleep at night #based on my husband imo #my gifs

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creative-caramel-coffee · 7 months

Text

CH 3 Ophidiophobia: Fear of snakes

Pairings: Wandanat x reader

Word count: 2.0K

Summary: Loki arrives as a snake, and you panic and try to stab him with a butter knife.

TW: Knife? Snakes. Panic (not attack just the regular kind). Mild description of shock and adrenaline.

A/n Ok so I’m not afraid of snakes but I have been in shock before, plus I’m a little bit of an adrenaline junkie (kinda) so I know what it's like. Hope you guys like this chapter. It’s been a while since I posted for the series. Sorry to everyone who’s been waiting I plan to be posting more soon (key word planning). I rather like how this turned out. Enjoy my traumatised little beans :) … also I’m Australian so i call it jam. Deal with it.

Nat had just gotten back from a mission; it wasn’t too bad, but it did mean that you and Wanda had been doing everything in your power to make her comfortable. You were in the kitchen making Nat her favourite to eat. PB and J sandwiches. You were lathering on the ingredients with great generosity, just the way Natasha liked it. Lots of jam and lots of peanut butter. You were humming the tune to a song by Rihanna you had been listening to lately and dancing around the kitchen. The rest of the team were around somewhere but nobody else was in the kitchen. Just you.

Screwing the lid back on the two jars you placed down the butter knife next to the three plates of sandwiches. One for each of you. Wanda was setting up the bedroom so you guys could have a movie day and you were also planning to grab a bunch of snacks from the cupboard for later, so you didn’t have to come back to the kitchen.

Opening the frigid you deposited the jars and went and found a tray to put all the stuff on. At this point you had moved from humming the song to singing it. You weren’t a bad singer, quite the opposite in fact. You had a lovely voice and as you grabbed the tray you were wiggling your hips to the beat. Something both of your girlfriends found cute and endearing, something they had told you many times in similar situations.

You turned around and set the tray down on the bench. Using the knife to cut the sandwiches the way your girls liked them. Nat liked hers in half diagonally. Wanda liked hers in four little triangles with the crusts cut off, much like a child which is something both you and Natasha teased her for. And you liked them the way you always did, the same as Natasha but without crusts like Wanda, you were the prefect mix of the both of them. The mediator in squabbles and the middle of all cuddles. You were the one that was probably babied the most but it felt nice to be loved in such a tender and compassionate way.

You had just finished the last of the delicate slicing when you glanced around, seeing nobody but your own reflection in the fridge door you smiled to yourself and licked the jam off the knife. Your mother would have had a conniption, you lost count of how many times you were scolded for licking knives as a child. Even if you were always careful to avoid the blade, you were young, not stupid. Except for that one time you cut your tongue on a tape measure but thats a story you would take with you to the grave, scar and all.

Drawing the knife away from your lips and licking the stick residue from the corners of your mouth you walked over to the sink and began to rinse the knife to put it in the high-powered dishwasher Tony had made … adjustments too. Somehow seeing the genius doing domestic tasks was always somewhat of a point of amusement for you and seemingly also the team. But all it had taken was an ask from pepper to “spruce up life around the tower” and the man had been following her like a puppy as she pointed out things for him to “improve.” You laughed at the memory, ever since Pepper had given the world Morgan, Tony was practically bending over backwards to do anything she asked of him and more. Poor guy. So very in love.

You had just gone to turn around to put the knife in what was basically a nuclear-powered dish-cleaning-germ-destroying machine, when you heard the unmistakeable hiss of your worst fear. You froze. Hearing the animal slither along the tiles. Gripping the knife harder in your hand you slowly turned on your heel to face it. The colour drained out of your face. Your hands shook slightly around the knife, and it took all your energy to swallow as your mouth suddenly felt very dry. Your heartbeat in your ears and you didn’t spare a thought as to how the huge beast of a snake managed to get into the tower.

Yellow eyes blinked back as you stared into the face of an emerald-green python. Its small fangs glinted with the reflection of the fluorescent lights of the kitchen ceiling. It hissed, its pink tongue darting in and out of its curved mouth. It stopped a meter away from you seemingly sizing you up. With what almost looked like a smile it opened its mouth giving you a front row seat to a perfect line of teeth that were razor sharp and you had no plans to prove that. It began to coil itself in and you were worried it was about to spring at you. Snakes did that right?

Holding the knife tighter you made a decision. In a fast movement you hurled the knife at the snake's head. You had seemed to catch it off guard as it watched the blade sail towards its face, arching nicely in the air. You had impeccable aim as always. But at the last possible minute it dodged, and the knife clattered to the floor behind it.

“Shit.” You swore. Now you had no weapon and no way out. The snake had you cornered against the bench. In other words, you were between a rock and a hard place, aka somewhere you didn’t want to be. With nothing to hold in your shaky hands you began to curl your fingers into fists and then relax them before repeating the movement. You were still terrified, if not even more so now you had nothing to defend yourself with.

At that movement the snake launched itself at you and you shut your eyes. However instead of the feeling of its fangs piercing your arms which had come up to cover your head, there was a bright flash of green which you saw even behind your closed eyes. Tentatively you peaked open a hesitant eye to look around. You heard laughing and your felt yourself trembling like a hairless cat in winter.

When all you saw was Loki you were ready to kill the frost giant. Before you could make any move, still running off adrenaline Wanda walked into the kitchen.

She paused at the sight. You were still curled in on yourself protecting your head while lock was bent at the waist, an arm on the counter to stabilise himself as he laughed.

“Whats going on in here?” Wanda asked her head tilting dangerously.

“You should have seen her face.” Loki said wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Wanda said taking in your fragile and scared state. She crossed the kitchen while Loki composed himself and you threw your body into her arms. With a small oomph noise, she caught you, wrapping her arms around your shaking torso and adding some delicious pressure to the hug you ground you and hopefully stave off any nastier symptoms of shock.

Loki had stopped laughing now and seemed almost concerned at your reaction. Wanda rubbed circles on your back as you shook evenly with small sobs which broke up the trembling. Over your shoulder Wanda glared at like with enough heat to melt a glacier. She mouthed to him ‘Talk. Now.’ With a glare shaper than his favourite dagger. Seeing no way out of this Loki stammered his explanation.

“Thor had told me of this mid-guardians fear of snakes…”

“You didnt.” Wanda growled protectively, and Loki swallowed trying to hide his fear of the witch, he was a god after all he shouldn’t be scared of mortals. But a protective Wanda was a dangerous creature after all.

“I did not realise it was so severe. My apologies Wanda.” He said.

“We will talk about this later and you will give Y/n a real apology.” She commanded. “Now leave, before a make you.” She said and Loki nodded and left in a flash of green that bounced off the walls of the kitchen.

Wanda drew a shaky breath to dispel her anger towards the god of mischief. Sure, it was in his nature to play pranks, but Wanda was fiercely protective over her girlfriends. She pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you continued to sob into her collar.

“Sh sh shhh its ok sweet girl. Im here. Im here baby. It's alright. He’s gone my love. There’s nothing that can hurt you now.” She said and held you close. You let out a small whimper and Wanda gently picked you up. You clung to her like a koala. Your legs wrapped around her waist and her hands under your thighs to hold you up. Your arms where wrapped around her neck and your cheek pressed into her covered chest. You sniffled softly as the tears still fell.

“Let’s go watch a movie with natty my baby girl.” Wanda said and she walked out using her magic to bring the snacks and sandwiches you had prepared earlier.

You nodded still not saying anything, emotionally drained. Worn out from the stress, shock and pure fear you felt. You hate snakes. They were a phobia of yours since you were a child. Wanda whispered soothing words in your hair and rubbed her nose on your cheek making you let out a water giggle.

“There’s my sweet little girl.” Wanda said and you blushed and buried your face in her neck making the woman coo at how cute you were. Walking back into the bedroom Wanda mentally informed nat of what had happened not wanting to bring it up again after you had begun to calm down. Nat gave a look saying she would fight Loki later and Wanda shook her head with a smile. She gently set you down in Nat’s open and waiting arms and you clung to her like you had to Wanda. Wanda passed Nat a sandwich and she grinned. Knowing you just wanted cuddles and could eat later. Wanda came and sat beside nat and placed a hand on your lower back ti rub soothing circles.

“You did it just the way i like Detka.” Nat said and you nodded softly into her chest. You were laid on top of her. Your legs either-side of her thighs as you wrapped your arms around her back. Your front flush to hers and face buried in her chest. Wanda chuckled softly at the position. It was one of your favoured ones. You turned your face to the side and your cheek smushed against Nat’s chest. You glared at her and poked your tongue out before burning your face again. Wanda only chuckled harder and nat paused her eat to rub your back.

“Are you being mean to wanda baby?” Nat said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

A small huffed out “no.” Was heard from the fabric of her shirt and Nat stifled a smile at your antics. They could hear the pout in your voice.

“Really now?” Nat said sounding amused. “Cuz, you know what happens with you are.” She said and you shuddered.

“No.” you said again and nat and wanda shared a demonic grin before they began to tickle you. You squealed and began laughing.

“S-stop. S-tooopp” you whined and after a bit both redheads relented.

“It's not fair your both not ticklish.” You huffed and Wanda and Nat laughed.

“Come here baby.” Wanda said and opened her arms.

“No. Comfy.” You pouted and wanda matched the expression.

“Then I’ll come to you.” Wanda moved closer and curled into Nat’s side throwing an arm over you. She had selected a romcom to watch and the three of your settled in for the movie. Wanda passed you the sandwich and you dropped crumbs on Nat’s shirt much to her amusement. After an afternoon of tlc and some much-needed cuddles. You were feeling much better. Loved. And all thoughts of snakes gone from the crevices of your mind.

MASTERLIST

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pinkysberg · 1 year

Text

gentle hands

read on ao3

arthur morgan/charles smith

wordcount: ~ 1.7K

tags: autistic charles smith, autistic arthur morgan, (it's not significant. its just true), canon compliant, charles smith whump, soft arthur morgan, vague romantic tension, definitely medical inaccuracies

summary: in which arthur tends to charles's injured hand

a/n: im taking matters into my own hands. charles will be taken care of whether u like it or not.

The Colter mining encampment was somehow large, yet suffocating. Maybe it was the atmosphere that was suffocating. A heavy repose of defeat has settled within the Van Der Linde gang, and it had all become a bit much for Charles Smith. Sequestering himself to isolation in the run-down stables, Charles had always been good at finding the quietest place in camp. He wasn’t much for conversation after their mad dash from Blackwater.

Despite this, he’d fallen into an effortless conversation with Arthur Morgan earlier that day as they hunted for the camp. He hadn’t gotten much chance to get to know Arthur, not that he was one to spark up a conversation with really anyone. But there’s some inherent familiarity in Arthur, Charles had decided. Even so, he wasn't in the business of seeking out his company.

Though, it seemed Arthur was certainly in the business of seeking out the company of Charles. That inherent familiarity felt on his end too, he couldn't seem to shake the idea of Charles after they’d parted after their hunting trip. More specifically, his hand.

Arthur wasn't sure when the bandages had last been changed, and while he was sure Charles was more than capable of tending to his own wounds given he had been on his own for years apparently, part of Arthur wanted to change the bandages for him. Like he owed him the small gesture after today - and the rest of his help for the past few months. Prior to his arrival, most of the camp work fell on Arthur’s shoulders, and it was nice to have some of that burden lifted.

He’d noticed the way the man was always so busy around the camp even before they’d briefly gotten to know one another - it was one of the few things Arthur could really say of Charles. He was a hard worker, among other things; He kept to himself, he didn't have much to say and he seemed to prefer quiet. Though Arthur could understand that, he’d only been with the group for half a year and the bunch could stand to overwhelm even Arthur at times after a decade with some of them.

So, he supposed it was no surprise that Charles was hiding away in the last spot he’d checked, sitting quietly on his own, taking shelter in the stables.

“Charles?” Arthur sounded softly as he pressed the door open.

“Arthur,” Charles replied, just as softly.

Arthur shut the cold out behind him - or tried to. The weather had been unforgiving and even within a confined shelter, everyone still felt the chill down to the bone. Sat on a hay bale against the wall, admittedly, Charles looked pretty well-bundled-up, his thick coat, hood, and hat all seem to cover him pretty well. Arthur had noticed it the moment they fled into the snow and all hurriedly changed into their winter outerwear, Charles looked in such a way that made Arthur’s chest squeeze. He was a big man, with a seemingly permanent scowl, but wrapped up like this Arthur dared to think he looked…sweet.

Charles didn't need his protection, nor his help - a perfectly capable man - but Arthur was going to offer it anyway. The gesture was laden with an undeniable tenderness and Arthur was unsure if it was spurred on by Charles’ dark eyes and round cheeks wrapped in his hood and hat, the way he demanded he helps provide for the group even despite his injury or maybe it was just the easy conversation.

Nonetheless, he found himself building up courage the whole time he searched for Charles, and continued to do so as he approached him inside the stables.

“Figures you’d be in the most secluded area in camp,” Arthur remarked, a small smirk toyed at the corner of his chapped mouth.

Charles looked up from his lap where an arrow is pressed between his knees and he’s made slight modifications with his good hand.

“How’s the hand?” He gestured to the offending limb resting at Charles’ side.

Charles gives him a long look, he’s already answered the question a few times that day, and the answer was no different.

“It’ll be fine.” He answered anyway.

“When’s the last those bandages were changed?”

Charles glanced at his hand. Now that he’d been asked, he wasn’t so sure if it was yesterday or the day before, with the impromptu hunting trip today it made it hard to piece together. Either way, he was sure the bandages could stand to be changed.

“Not sure.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Arthur said as he fished into his satchel, retrieving fresh wrap.

“Oh,” Charles blinked at the wrap before glancing quickly at Arthur, “thank you.”

Though, as Charles reaches to take it from Arthur, it's pulled from his reach, Arthur retracting his arm back.

“I’ll do it for ya,” he offered.

The suggestion filled Charles with uncertainty. He wasn't sure what that entailed, if it meant he had to talk, if it meant Arthur would be touching him. Not that he was opposed to any of those things, but he hadn’t exactly anticipated working it into his evening plans.

“I can do it myself.”

“I know ya can.” Arthur shrugged. “Let me, though. Easier havin’ someone else wrap a hand for ya.”

And as Charles looked down at the way he’d been repairing arrows with his knees and one hand, he couldn't really argue with that. He looked back to Arthur and sighed. It wasn't as though it was just anyone offering him help, with strange unspoken ulterior motives or underlying intentions, it was Arthur. And despite him being practically a stranger, he was familiar - in that strange kind of way.

“Thank you,” Charles mumbled, then.

Though, as Arthur crouched in the frozen hay before him, all strange familiarity was torn away with the blizzarding winds. Something about the proximity - within half an arm’s length of one another - was almost dizzying. Charles found himself pressing against the stable wall, off put by having Arthur suddenly in his space. He watched Arthur situate and collect the wrap before looking to Charles. After a moment of looking at Charles expectantly, a small smile cracks across Arthur’s face.

“Need yer hand, Mr. Smith.” He said then.

Charles dumbly looks down at his injured hand. He supposed he did need his hand if he planned on wrapping it. There's a delay between him attempting to will his hand to move and the limb actually listening, nerves fueling his hesitation, but eventually, he lays his hand in Arthur’s, palm up.

“Thank you kindly.” Arthur mused. “Relax,” he added, “I ain’t gon bite ‘cha.”

Charles didn't respond to that, instead just followed Arthur’s ministrations with careful attention. Arthur unwrapped his hand, and while the burn was certainly healing fine, it still didn’t look so good. The healing tissue is distinctly yellow and wet looking. Charles examined it carefully for signs of infection. Arthur did the same, and when neither vocalize any concern over the state of the wound, Arthur discarded the old wrapping in the dirt below them.

At that point, Charles had expected Arthur to just rewrap it and be done with it. Instead, though, he retrieved a small bottle from his satchel.

“Hosea gave it to me a while back when I burnt myself on Pearson’s pot, oughta look around when I’m reachin’ for things,” Arthur chuckles as he uncorks the bottle, “don’t rightly know what it is, oil of some sorts, but it helped.” He shrugged.

Charles doesn't have much response to that and decides not to worry over the hypothetical fallout of not knowing what exactly it is that's being spread on his open wound. If it didn't do Arthur any harm, perhaps it wouldn't do him any either. Besides, as Arthur poured a small amount onto Charles's palm and used one of his thumbs to gently spread it about, he's not sure he could find it in him to protest.

“Not hurtin’ you, am I?”

Charles shook his head. Truth be told, the skin was tender, but he didn't mind all that much as Arthur gently massaged his palm. Arthur glanced up, then, clearly seeking an audible answer while his attention was elsewhere.

“No.” Charles answered then.

“Good.” Arthur smiled softly before returning to his work.

A separate burning sensation floods Charles's palm - a tingling, more so. All his nerves that are being gently pressed and prodded by Arthur come to life under his touch. Unsure as to whether it’s pleasant or not, Charles simply sucks in a breath and waits for this pleasantly torturous moment to be over, but when his hand is rested in his own lap so Arthur can prepare the wrap, he feels a distinct disappointment that it's over. The disappointment is short-lived, his hand scooped back up into Arthur’s hold.

Carefully, Arthur pulled the wrap over the burn around Charles's hand once before looking back up at him.

“Not too tight?”

Charles gave his fingers a testing wiggle, ignoring the vague flare of pain before deciding it wasn't too tight and nodding. Arthur makes short work of the rest of it, wrapping the remaining fabric until he can secure the tail.

“Good as new.” Arthur declared before setting Charles's hand back in his lap, giving it a gentle tap before he retracted, and his hand tingled there, even under all the fabric.

“Thank you, Arthur, I-”

“Ah,” Arthur cut him off before going to stand, “don’t mention it.” He strained out through the motion. “We’d be starving without you, least I can do.”

Again, Charles is left without much response, so he held Arthur’s look intently and nodded. A small smile worked its way onto Arthur’s face before he finally drops the gaze, looking toward his boots instead.

“I’ll get outta yer hair, then.”

“Okay.” Charles nodded, though he wouldn't mind it much had Arthur wanted to linger.

He said nothing, though, just watched Arthur mind the horses’ rears as he approached the stable door. Before he left, though, he cast another quick look over his shoulder.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mr. Smith.”

“Sure.”

#charles smith #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x charles smith #charthur #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #mine

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 10 months

Text

My personal headcanons about Eddie’s dad that the book may end up contradicting but at this point idgaf

Warning: Mentions of child abuse, loss of a parent, homophobic language

Masterlist

Feat young Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Al Munson

-He’s Wayne’s younger brother. Both their parents passed when they were young adults, so Wayne always felt obligated to look out for him, which was a lot easier said than done because Eddie’s dad has always been pretty wild.

-I assume the Munsons aren’t originally from Indiana, since Wayne’s accent definitely isn’t Midwestern. In my mind, Eddie’s dad was a little bit of a drifter that rolled into Hawkins one day when he was like 24 or so and started seeing Eddie’s mom (who was like 18 and freshly out of high school at the time) with the intention of moving on in a few months and forgetting all about her.

-Instead she winds up pregnant, and he definitely isn’t interested in settling down and raising a family, but Wayne ultimately talks him into doing the right thing and marrying her.

-Eddie’s dad was never really cut out for family life. He hated being stuck in Hawkins, and has always resented Eddie because of it. When Eddie’s mom was alive, he was pretty absent, always going out drinking or committing petty crimes, hopping from job to job, probably seeing other women behind his wife’s back.

-Then his wife died and he was suddenly the sole parent responsible for a kid he never wanted in the first place. Those few years where Eddie was living with just his dad were pretty rough.

-A non exhaustive list of shit Eddie’s dad put him through at the time:

When Eddie’s mom first died, his dad would want to go out drinking, so he’d just put little grade school Eddie in his car and have him sleep there in the parking lot of whatever dive he was hanging out at. (Eventually he gave up on this and just started ditching Eddie at home)

He hated spending money on Eddie. They barely had any to begin with, and the priority with what they did have was always booze and cigarettes. There were nights that Eddie went to bed hungry because his dad didn’t bother buying any food for him. Most of Eddie’s clothes and shoes were old and ill fitting because he wouldn’t bother replacing them.

Even when he wasn’t out drinking, he was neglectful of Eddie. He rarely put in effort to make sure he was properly taken care of. Eddie would come to school covered in dirt because his dad never made him take a bath, his clothes often went long periods of time without washing etc. His peers would often pick on him because of it, and at the time he didn’t have D&D or anything to fall back on.

Eddie’s dad had a nasty temper, and no matter how much Eddie tried, he’d always end up doing something to anger the man. He’d scream at and berate Eddie, and sometimes get physical. He’d also take this opportunity to throw their situation into Eddie’s face. He’d say Eddie was a burden, how he was unwanted and how it was his fault his mom was dead.

I’m a big Eddie has ADHD truther, and I’d imagine this was a point of contention between him and his dad. ADHD wasn’t really known back then, so his dad would just chalk his symptoms up to him being “dumb”. Eddie would struggle with school work and his dad would tell him he was just stupid and that he shouldn’t bother because it’s not like he’d ever amount to anything.

He made Eddie keep his hair buzzed. If Eddie expressed interest in growing it out he’d say stuff like “long hair is for women and f*gs”

-At some point, when Eddie was middle school age, his dad finally got arrested for something that came with serious jail time. He wouldn’t be out until Eddie was at least 18, so their options were either for a relative to take him or he’d end up in the system. Of course Wayne didn’t hesitate to take the boy in, and the rest is history.

-Wayne has forgiven his brother for a lot of the shit he pulled, but one thing he can’t ever forgive is the way he treated Eddie. It took a little while of living with Wayne before Eddie came out of his shell, all thanks to the abuse his father put him through.

-Wayne does still communicate with his brother though, sometimes talks on the phone and even goes to visit every once in a while. Eddie on the other hand doesn't. He has no interest in a relationship with his father and Wayne isn’t going to force it on him.

-Eddie’s dad dropped out of high school at 16. Part of the reason Eddie’s so insistent on graduating is because he doesn’t want to be like him.

-But of course, even with all Eddie’s efforts, it’s still hard to escape the shadow of his father’s reputation. People have always assumed that Eddie is just a no good delinquent like his father. They were even more convinced when Eddie started getting into “immoral” activities like D&D and metal music (never mind the fact that Eddie’s dad didn’t like either of those things).

-Overall, Eddie’s dad is just super bitter and jealous of his son. He’d never admit it to anyone, not even himself, but deep down he hates that he threw his life away and now he’s rotting in prison; he wants to see Eddie end up the same way because the thought of his son being a better person than him upsets him.

#stranger things #Eddie munson #feral raccoon boy #headcanons #Eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #Eddie munson fanfiction #Wayne munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things headcanons #Eddie munson angst

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fe-fictions · 1 year

Note

Good day/night! :]

Might you have some spare Henry crumbs laying around? I've been on a crowman high lately and you write him so well! <3

(Here's some Henry taking care of a sick wife and baby!!!)

The family had taken a brief, albeit very fun and relaxing, trip in Plegia. Morgan being only eight months old certainly made things interesting. Having the whole family there to enjoy the beauty of Plegia outside war time was fun.

Plus, you were both Plegians, so it was nice to learn about your roots.

It was a magical time. Or at least, it would have been. You woke up the morning after you came home and found yourself unable to get out of bed.

You had a fever, your head was pounding, and you were a snotty mess of misery. Henry was amused until he heard baby Morgan bawling down the hall. You both caught, according to your husband, the Plegian swine flu.

No one was immune from it, not even sweet, innocent little blood bags like Morgan (Henry’s words, not yours).

So Henry quickly went from teasing you and being fascinated by how miserable you were to going into full-blown panic.

Like any disease, a baby catching it had a higher risk of complications. Most recover, Henry explained while frantically scribbling an urgent letter for Maribelle to tie to one of his crows, but itty bitty babies could suffer serious health problems.

Henry got to work on preparing you a bucket of cold water, a second bucket for the kerchiefs you would be blowing your nose into all day, and a third bucket in case you couldn’t keep your food down.

You didn’t.

“Gods, Henry- did you have to send that filthy animal to me? I’m literally down the block! It would take you fifteen minutes to-”

“Fifteen minutes is a waste of time! Morgan and Robin could be dead by then! And if it’s either of them, it’s no joke, nya ha!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“It’s nervous laughter!” He chuckled again, though judging by how pale his face was, it seemed to be true.

Maribelle simply scoffed and hurried to the bedroom, ready to treat her friend.

“Robin, darling! Oh, you look positively ghastly!” She gasped, drawing the mask over her mouth and nose. She pulled on her medical gloves, a stave at her side and a big pouch of herbs on her belt. “The Plegian swine flu is no joke...it’s very rarely found in Ylisse, but when it travels with you…”

“I-it’s a disaster.” You wheezed, not before you were overcome by coughing. “Anything y-you can do will be a welcome remedy.”

“Luckily for you, there’s nothing here that herbs and plenty of rest won’t fix. Now Morgan might be a little trickier, given his age...but we can at least get started with you.”

Maribelle was quick to send Henry off to grind up the herbs, preparing some disgusting concoction guaranteed to get your body back to normal.

Presuming Henry could put it together.

“Now, when did you start to feel ill?”

“W-well, if I’m honest… It started around-”

Crash

“Ah, gods- I broke the cup!!”

“-The time we got home, last night. It was late-”

Smash

“The pestle’s shattered!!”

“-And I just thought I was tired, but...my head feels about the same as-”

Bang

“The herbs are everywhere!!”

“HENRY!!” Maribelle shouted out the door, “What in the gods’ names are you doing?!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a mess!” Henry apologized, his voice shaky and unsure. “I-I just meant to help a bit, but it looks like I’m making things worse, nya ha!”

“Why don’t you come and sit,” Maribelle pinched her brow, “Just settle down until you stop breaking things.”

You watched as Henry wandered back into the bedroom, looking surprisingly pale and nervous. You had never quite seen him in such a way, before.

After all, it was always good times and weird vibes with your husband. Since when did he become the anxious type?

“I’ll be right back, Robin. I’ll get your medicine.”

“Give some to Morgan, first.” You asked, “I can wait.”

Maribelle nodded to you before taking off, leaving you alone with your husband who was bouncing his leg and fidgeting with his hands with a nervousness that you’d never seen before.

For a few moments, it was quiet, listening to the rhythmic, rapid tapping of his heel against the stone. Eventually, though, you would have to snap him out of it.

“Henry, a-are you all right?” You questioned as gently as you could. Henry started to nod, giving you a cracked, faux grin. Then he paused, his smile fell, and he shook his head.

“Well, if I’m honest? No. Not at all. I feel like I’m dying inside.” He admitted. “I mean, you’re sick, and so is Morgan! My two favorite living people! And there’s not a thing I can do about it- I mean, he’s just a baby, and we’ve only been back together for a year- I dunno. It scares me, y’know? Which is impressive! When’s the last time I’ve been genuinely scared, right! Nya ha ha!”

“There’s nothing to be scared of, Henry.” You tried to assure him. But he shook his head, folding his arms tightly.

“You don’t know that! All it takes is one thing to go wrong and it could be bye-bye wifey, or even bye-bye baby, and I...oh, I couldn’t handle that. Nope, not one bit.”

It was certainly a reasonable concern.

“Henry, sweetheart...come here.” You held your hand out to him, insisting he sit with you. You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion or the pain that numbed your sense of worry, but you were far calmer than he was.

He took your hand, revealing trembling fingers. You squeezed it tightly, trying your best to comfort him despite your situation.

“Maribelle will take care of us. We’ll be okay, I’m sure.”

“But you can’t be sure!” He sighed shakily, “Anything can happen when it comes to Plegian flu. It can either be nothing at all, or really bad! And you never know until it happens. If something bad did happen to you or Morgan, I just...I don’t know what to do! You already told me I’m not allowed to re-animate either of you if you croak, so...I’m out of options!”

“I’m standing firm on that, just so you know.” You informed him with a soft smile, “But, Henry...there’s no value in worrying for worrying’s sake. W-we really shouldn’t be concerned with the unknown until it comes.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one having to take care of both of you! What if I mess up?! What if I make it worse!! I already broke Maribelle’s mortar and pestle, there are herbs everywhere, a-and I just-”

“Henry,” You pressed a finger to his lips, “You’re overthinking.”

“B-but I just...I worry about you guys…”

“I know.” You beamed at him, stroking his cheek. “But please, try not to worry. We need to wait for Maribelle’s diagnosis, and we can go from there, okay? It’ll be easier if we take it a step at a time.”

“Gosh, Robin...how’re you able to stay so calm all the time?” He looked at you incredulously, “I’m about ready to pop out of my skin and just run around like a headless Risen!”

“Experience.” You laughed.

Maribelle came in not long after, informing you both that the flu didn’t appear to be as bad as it could be.

“Morgan should recover within the week, though we’ll need to make sure he receives two doses of medicine each day; one in the morning and one at night. Henry, you’ll have to make it for him each day- is that something you can handle? Or will I be making more visits this week?”

Henry shared a look with you, seeing your encouraging smile. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“I can handle it, I promise!”

“Good. Morgan’s going to be counting on you. Robin, you should need more rest than anything else, but I’m recommending you take one dose each evening; it will help you sleep better, and it’s strong enough that it should hold you the next day.”

“That’s fine by me.” You agreed; the less disgusting, bitter herbs you had to ingest, the better.

“Your recovery time will be a bit longer than Morgan’s, though, judging by how you’re doing… I’d say two weeks at minimum; a month-and-a-half at most. Now if you want, I can have Lissa or Libra come and help take care of you, so that Henry can focus on caring for Morgan. Or, we can simply send Morgan off with a wet nurse while you’re here.”

“N-no, I-!” Henry interrupted before you could reply, putting a hand to his chest. “I can handle it, Maribelle! After all, if I can’t take care of my family, what kind of man would I be? Just a sad bag of bones and sinew! Not good for anything but crow food.”

Maribelle glanced over at you, looking for some sort of response. You knew she was still wary of Henry, especially now that she was out a very lovely mortar and pestle. But you were confident in his abilities.

“He can take care of us.” You told her, “I trust him.”

“Well...if you insist.” She conceded, earning a whoop from your husband- and an apology for it shortly after when he realized you weren’t to be around loud noises with your headache. “I’ll be coming to check up on you twice a week until you’re all better- until then, Henry, we’re counting on you!”

“You got nothin’ to worry about, Maribelle! We just take it a day at a time, and it’ll be great, nya ha!”

“Robin, if anything changes, or you need help...please don’t hesitate to call me or the other healers immediately.”

“I will.”

“I do mean anything, dear.”

“...I will.”

“If Henry does one thing wrong-”

“Hey!”

“I got it, Maribelle.” You chuckled, waving her away. “Thanks for your concern. We’ll be sure to call for you if we need anything. But I’m positive Henry will take care of us just fine.”

“You can bet your organs on it!” He grinned, giggling happily with his wife’s support. Maribelle gave him a long, hard look, but eventually took her leave.

Henry was quick to move Morgan’s crib into the bedroom, guaranteeing that he could keep track of both of you and ensure you were both recovering nicely at the same time.

While it was heartbreaking listening to Morgan’s discomfort and those tiny baby coughs, it helped to see him improve day after day.

You did end up recovering about a week after Morgan, all thanks to Henry. He made sure to give you only the best. Most of all you were just thankful that none of you could get the Plegian swine flu ever again.

Especially since he bought Maribelle a replacement mortar and pestle that came from a questionable source, covered in animal bones and bird skulls and...you really didn’t know what corner of Hell he summoned them from.

At least there wouldn’t be another opportunity for him to break anything else of Maribelle’s, seeing as you wouldn’t be getting sick again.

You would take extra steps to ensure that just so he wouldn’t frighten Maribelle with another horrifying “gift”.

#henry #robin #morgan #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #fe awakening #henbin #henry x robin #family fluff #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu #lots of comfort #good dad henry #doting father and sweetest husband #i love him so much

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 1 year

Text

Birdie’s Library of Sick

Here is a complete list of my longer fics. Regularly updated as I post, including all posted Sicktember fics. Full steam ahead for sneezes + fevers!

List is now revamped! Organized alphabetically by fandom/AU, then chronologically by date written within the subcategories (in most cases). Because I’m a nerd and I wanted all my darlings to be grouped together most efficiently. Fics marked *** are my favorite of the things I’ve written... my greatest hits, if you will. Those are the ones I come back to read time and again when I’m in certain moods. Please check those out if you haven’t before, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Also, I have even longer stuff posted on AO3 under the same name (PerfectPaperBluebirds) so head on over there for even more sickfic goodness.

My ask box is always open for prompts! I’m always up to try something new, so if there's any aesthetics you want to see, please send them my way :)

Fandom

The Black Tapes Podcast:

Better Now

(SKT ‘21) Sneezing

***(SKT ‘22) Care Package

(SKT ‘23) “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too.”

Bridget Jones’s Diary:

(SKT ‘22) Taking a Sick Day (Bridget Jones’s Diary)

(SKT ‘23) Consulting the Internet

Criminal Minds:

(SKT ‘21) Nebulizer (Sick Reid)

(SKT ‘21) Warm Soup (Sick Hotch)

Colder Weather (Sick Hotch)

Maybe Tomorrow Will Be Better (Sick Reid)

(SKT ‘23) Sick and Injured (Sick Morgan)

Encanto:

***(SKT ‘22) A Cry For Attention (Sick Bruno)

(SKT ‘23) Hiding an Illness (Sick Julieta)

Grey’s Anatomy:

(Secret Santa ‘22) To Make You Well (Sick Derek)

(SKT ‘23) “Did you just sneeze?” (Meredith Allergies)

Hannibal [TV]

***House Calls Pt. 1 (Sick Will)

***House Calls Pt. 2 (Sick Hannibal)

(SKT ‘21) Asleep on the Couch (Sick Will)

(SKT ‘21) Sick at Work (Everyone sick)

(SKT ‘22) Common Cold (Sick Hannibal)

(SKT ‘22) Tepid Bath (Sick Will)

SKT ‘23 Hopelessly Bad at Self Care (Sick Will)

Howl’s Moving Castle:

(SKT ‘21) Sneaky Temperature Check (Sick Sophie)

(SKT ‘23) Coughing Fit (Sick Howl)

Jurassic World:

***(SKT ‘21) I’m Not Sick (Jurassic World)

(SKT ‘23) White Coat Syndrome

Knives Out:

(SKT ‘21) Headache/Migraine

(SKT ‘21) Appendicitis [emeto]

(SKT ‘23) Beginner’s Guide to Faking Sick

Letterkenny:

***(SKT ‘21) Bed Rest

(SKT ‘21) Hot Water Bottle

***Tender Loathing Care

(SKT ‘23) Preventative Measures (Not Taken)

MCU:

***(SKT ‘21) Fever [Sick Clint]

(SKT ‘21) Medicine (MCU Avengers AU) [Sick no serum Steve]

(SKT ‘22) Painkillers [Sick Tony]

(SKT ‘22) Hangover [Sick Thor] [emeto]

***(SKT ‘22) 'Great. Now I Have Your Germs All Over Me.’ [Sick Clint and Natasha]

(SKT ‘22) Seasonal Allergies [Sick Clint]

(SKT ‘22) Nausea/Upset Stomach [Sick Bruce] [emeto]

***(SKT ‘22) Whining/Crying [Sick Natasha]

(SKT ‘22) VapoRub [Sick Bucky]

(SKT ‘22) Lethargy/Exhaustion [Sick Steve]

(SKT ‘23) “I should have stayed home.” [Sick Steve)

New Girl:

(SKT ‘21) Faking it (Sick Jess)

(SKT ‘21) Ginger Ale and Crackers [emeto] (Sick guys)

(SKT ‘23) “What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?” (Sick Schmidt)

The Office:

(SKT ‘21) Chicken Pox (Sick Jim Halpert)

(SKT ‘21) Quarantine (Sick Michael Scott)

(SKT ‘22) Intense Coddling (Sick Ryan Howard)

What A Lovely Way to Burn (Sick Ryan Howard)

(SKT ‘23) Patient Zero (Sick Andy Bernard)

Pride and Prejudice:

A Darcy Day Off

Reunion

***(SKT ‘21) Contagious

***(SKT ‘21) Stay (Follow-up to Contagious)

Cold Comfort

Eyes On You

(SKT ‘23) “Wear a coat, you’ll catch cold.”

Star Wars:

***(SKT ‘21) Aches and Pains [the Mandalorian]

(SKT ‘21) Unlikely Caregiver (Rey and Kylo)

***Safe and Warm (Follow-up to Aches and Pains )

(SKT ‘23) “I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am.” (Rey and Kylo)

Historical/Fantasy OCs

Cowboy ‘Verse:

***(SKT ‘22) Home remedy

(SKT ‘23) Persistent Fever

DnD OCs (Filius, Gundor, Kandry, Lorellyn):

***(SKT ‘21) Blankets

(SKT ‘22) ‘Do You Know How To Take Care of a Sick Person?’

***(SKT ‘22) Sleepless Night/s

(SKT ‘23) Quest for a Cure

Navy Man OCs (Capt. Michael Ingram):

Tidings of Comfort (Holiday fic 2021) [emeto]

(SKT ‘22) Homesick

(SKT ‘22) ‘I Might Be A Teeny Tiny Bit Sick, But It’s Fine.’ (Follow-up to Tidings of Comfort)

(SKT ‘23) Sick in an Inconvenient Place

Roaring Twenties ‘Verse (Jesse Hamilton):

(SKT ‘21) Missing Out (Roaring Twenties, Holiday fic) [emeto]

(SKT ‘23) Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

Plague Doctor OCs (Alastair and Eliza):

***The Doctor Is In... the Inn

(SKT ‘22) Soft Pajamas

(SKT ‘23) Confused/Disoriented

Science Lovers OCs (Peter and Violet):

***Under the Willow

(SKT ‘22) Sunburn

(SKT ‘23) Old Wives Tale

Sorcerer ‘Verse OCs (Elmrador Renata and Co.):

Spells and Sneezes

Powers and Flowers

(SKT ‘22) ‘Blow Your Nose’

***Curses and Comforts (Follow-up to Powers and Flowers )

(SKT ‘23) Magical Remedy/Healing Potion [emeto]

Sprite Kingdom (Aleander the Healer)

Icing and Frosting (Sprite Kingdom)

(SKT ‘23) Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

Vicar ‘Verse OCs (Nicholas and Lydia Lennox):

***A Virus for the Vicar

(SKT ‘22) ‘Get Back in Bed!’

(SKT ‘23) Anxious Stomach [emeto]

Wagon Train OCs (Dan and Ella)

Here Comes the Sun

The Weather Outside Is Frightful

(SKT ‘23) Uncooperative Patient

Historical/Fantasy OC one-offs (for now):

An Artist’s Study on Illness (Italian Artists)

To the Place I Belong (Vampire ‘Verse, Halloween 2022)

Modern OCs

CottageVersity OCs (Tenbusch family):

***Miserable At Best (All sick)

***Mess Is Mine (Thad & JB, JB sick)

***(SKT ‘22) Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness (Thad & JB, JB sick)

(SKT ‘22) Cold Sweat (Theo sick)

(SKT ‘22) Cuddling on the Couch (Thalia & Padma, Padma sick)

[the Meet-cute!] Pretty Girls and Starting Conversations (Thalia & Padma, Thalia sick)

[CW: Homophobia] The Last Christmas (All, Thad & JB sick)

Holding Onto Me So Tight (Thad & JB, both sick)

Sick of It (All, Theo/JB/Padma sick)

(SKT ‘23) “The only place we’re going is the pharmacy.” (Thalia sick)

Priest ‘Verse (Father Luc and Flora):

***(SKT ‘22) Tickle in the Throat [Sick priest] (The Beginning Pt. 1)

Feel My Temperature Rising [Sick Priest] (The Beginning Pt. 2)

I Can Go No Longer (Sick priest)

Cheer My Wearied Spirit (Sick Flora)

Feel My Temperature Rising (Sick priest)

(SKT ‘23) Curled Up With a Pet (Sick priest)

Rockstar ‘Verse (Vic and Addison):

***(SKT ‘22) Syncope/Fainting

(SKT ‘23) “You’re a jerk when you’re sick.”

Shane and Molly (Shmolly):

[the Meet-cute!] Let Your Heart Be Light (Sick Shane)

***(SKT ‘21) Doctor’s Visit/Check Up (Sick Shane)

Under the Weather Pt. 1 (Sick Shane)

Under the Weather Pt. 2 (Both Sick)

***Without You (Sick Shane)

***Never Gonna Leave This Bed (Both Sick)

***(SKT ‘22) Sick On Vacation (Sick Molly)

(SKT ‘22) ‘I Need You To Pull Over!’ (Sick Shane) [emeto]

We’ll Share A Cup of Kindness Yet (Both Sick)

(SKT ‘23) “I could really use a hug right about now.” (Sick Shane)

Modern OC one-offs (for now):

Hospitality (Banquets and Events OCs)

Book Club (Business Boutique OCs)

Domestic Drabble #97 (In F [lu] Major)

#my writing #MY OCs #everyone is hotter with a fever

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criminalmindsgonewrong · 2 years

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a comprehensive list of songs im annoyed they never used in criminal minds because their emotional impact might have killed me and/or songs and the scenes i wish we’d had pt 1:

*yes i’m aware some of these songs have since been released since cm finished filming (perhaps they’ll use them in s16+ but im not betting on it. i don’t care.

1. Knocking on Heaven’s Door by Raign.

mama take this badge from me, i can’t use it anymore... mama put my guns in the ground, i can’t shoot them anymore... feels like i’m knocking on heavens door.

Think around season 13. I see this as a team scene, perhaps when someone (preferrably JJ or Emily let’s be honest) has been captured/taken hostage/kidnapped, and they’re close to death after being beaten. The vibe is very 200. It’s a slow motion scene, when the music quietens and slows, when we see the team barge in, in the background. The captured character, lets say JJ, is close to unconsciousness and in focus in the frame, while everyone else is blurred in the background. We see, but don’t hear, Emily scream for medical as Reid kneels at JJ’s side. Luke checks her over, then scoops her up in his arms. She’s hurt, weak, but safe. This is my favourite one.

2. Youth by Daughter.

most of us are breathing through corrupted lungs... setting fire to our insides for fun... one day we’ll reveal the truth, that one will die before he gets there... it was a flood that wrecked this home...

It could be anywhere in the middle of the series, but the scene takes place in the BAU. A scene like the one in Mosley Lane, where the children are reunited with their families. The camera pans from one team member to the next as we see their reactions; they’re happy, but heavy. They know that, for every day like this one, there are ten that don’t end well. Emily and Morgan exchange glances with each other, knowing that nobody quite understands the way the rest of the team does. JJ passes them, folder in hand, on her way to Hotch’s office. They have more work to do. The rest of the team follow her up the stairs and into the round table room, as we see the reunited families hugging their loved ones.

3. Neverland by Zendaya

we can sail away tonight on a sea of pure moonlight... we'll be young, that's how we'll stay... picture a land you'll never have seen where life is eternal and evergreen future of happiness all in your hands, all in this place I created that I call Neverland

Not a happy ending, like the one above. The team at a funeral, I see it as the funeral of a little girl they couldn’t save, perhaps. They’re there to pay their respects. Of course, it’s a voice over scene, probably Hotch speaking. The camera pans across them, standing in a line, perhaps back from the rest of the congregation. All of them in black, all of them in sunglasses. I’m picturing Reid with his crutches, so somewhere at the beginning of s5.

4. Already Gone by Sleeping at Last

all our memories, they’re haunted... we were always meant to say goodbye...

looking at you makes it harder, but i know that you’ll find another... started with the perfect kiss, then we could feel the poison set in....

One for my shipper heart. Could be Jemily, Hotchniss, anyone. But it doesn’t work out. If Criminal Minds were Grey’s is the vibe of this one. Alternatively, could have been used either when JJ left the team, or when they thought Emily was ‘dead’.

5. Girls by Cardi B, etc.

you know i tamed it, and then I named it. i put the lion in the cage and then i laid with her all night... red wine, I just wanna kiss girls....

Totally self indulgent, I just wanna see a team night out where this song happens to be playing while the girls are on the dance floor. No further comment, your honour.

#im gonna make this a series. its fun #song list #criminal minds #incorrect criminal minds quotes #criminal minds gone wrong #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #derek morgan #penelope garcia #luke alvez #david rossi

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spiralcass · 1 year

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NEW MUTANTS: LETHAL LEGION #2 - THOUGHTS

I had so much fun covering the first issue, I thought, “Why Not?” and decided I’d do similar breakdowns for the rest of the series as it comes out. With its sapphic trans lead, Escapade, and writer, @charliejaneanders, there’s no book I’m more eager to support and help spread awareness of right now.

This issue sees multiple plots continuing here, with Escapade, Cerebella, Honey Badger (I’m still not calling her “Scout”), Morgan, and Wolfsbane still our leads as of this issue, but with the set-up and solicits we’ve gotten, it’s clear Dani and Karma will be getting more involved for the rest of the book.

Starting with the A-Plot, probably my favorite thing about the previous three issues of New Mutants to star Shela, and this book so far, is how in nearly every scene, we get to see a new layer of her character. So often, fans will defend bland new characters by saying they “Just Need Time”, and my counterargument is always, “No, there are numerous modern characters who came out fully realized and captivating almost immediately.”

We got a bit of this in the previous issue, but it’s made even more clear here that despite Shela often coming off as a typical quirky, goofy, teenage hero, she is an adult, she is an experienced veteran in her field, and she has lived a hard life with much more down-to-Earth trauma which has built responsibility. She may not like having to be all these things, and getting to act more like a kid is probably something she appreciates about Krakoa, but if she’s only teamed with less experienced heroes, this is gonna show.

I’m unsure of what the writing is going for with Gabby so far. Gabby being excited and enthusiastic about beating up a bunch of villains? Nothing weird there. Being snarky? Right up her alley. But she has a weird mean streak throughout the issue that doesn’t feel right. Just a couple lines that don’t sound like things she’d say.

I do like how she handled Nefaria’s tournament though.

Sadly, Martha doesn’t get to do much this issue, and it’s to its detriment. While Shela and Gabby’s fights are fun, they take up so much of the A-plot that there’s no room for her. And with me not being particularly interested in Nefaria and his antics (mostly), sidelining the character who’s the whole reason this adventure is happening, and who’s emotional struggle is our hero’s primary motivator, hurts the issue.

With that all said, now I get to talk about my favorite part of the A-plot, and the part that has me the most excited.

To the shock of literally no one, it’s the part which involves Emma Frost.

Not once, but twice in this issue, Shela directly compares Nefaria’s persuasive skills to Emma’s. Once is a joke. Twice tells me our young thief still has some unresolved issues regarding her former idol.

In tandem with her other insecurities, it really is no wonder she allowed herself to get drunked-up by Nefaria. Against Emma’s speeches, she was able to bite back with bitterness. Against Nefaria’s, despite knowing what he’s doing, she still likes what he’s saying enough that she eases herself.

Anders confirmed to me before this book started that Emma would not be appearing in it, BUT I really, really hope this is all going somewhere post-Lethal Legion.

Onto the B-Plot, let’s start with the funny stuff because WOW did this get real dark, real quick.

Of COURSE there are doomsday preppers for Mutants, of course there are. Wonderful way to start the issue.

Cosmar basically realizing Shela has taken her place in the Lost Club’s main girl trio is sad, but also pretty funny in a meta sense. Hopefully Tashi can find another team to join.

Also, Charlie, I know you read these, so I’m gonna ask one of the most common questions fans of these characters have: How old is Anole supposed to be? Shela and Martha are young adults, Gabby and Tashi are teenagers, and Rain Boy can go either way since it’s unclear if he died or not post M-Day, but no one really cares. Anole meanwhile is a longtime fan favorite, and between him simultaneously bartending at the Green Lagoon and hitting on Ahkiro, while also acting no older than Gabby and Tashi, and being referred to as a kid by one of his old classmates within the pages of New Mutants, fans have been deeply confused for years.

I know writers sometimes aren’t allowed to speak on ages, so if that’s a thing here, I get it. If you can give an answer though, so many fans would love to know.

Tangents aside, Dani and Karma’s entrance to the plot confuses me. I get Dani worrying about her kids, but are her and Xuan really freaking out because they don’t know where two grown women and their highly-deadly teenage friend are for more than a day? Hey, Dani, if you want to check on someone, how about your adopted son you haven’t spoken to in the last decade? If Josh has time to flirt with Gwenpool, he has time for you.

Everything mentioned above is completely forgivable, however, because Dani and Xuan get the best damn panel in this issue.

Transitioning into the more dramatic stuff, we have Rahne. Wolfsbane has consistently been wonderful under Anders’ pen (really, she’s gotten consistently better writing in the past 3 years than she’d gotten in the prior 20), with so many great moments in this issue alone. I love how she helps calm down the sewer creature, wastes no time arguing with the doomsday prepper’s leader’s garbage, and is able to separate him from the rest of the mostly innocent people living in the sewers who need her help.

Oh, Morgan, Morgan, Morgan. Since your first appearance, I have not liked you. I still don’t like you, even if you being Chinese, Jewish, and Asexual on top of being a trans man is pretty cool.

However, progress may finally be getting made on making his less insufferable. At the start of this issue, he’s still his usual self, with 0 comprehension of what Mutants have been through (honestly though, man, with all your other identities, you shouldn’t be THIS blitheringly ignorant), but then...

...we get to the big “Oh shit” part of the book, as it seems like Rahne may be about to teach Morgan about The Massacre.

This data page is amazing. I’m not sure if it actually fits the book tonally, but I love it. I’m not gonna go over the details of it just because it’s such strong prose, and you should really take it in for yourselves. It really makes you just imagine Jared walking through the woods on Krakoa, and seeing Greycrow, one of the people who brutally murdered him and his friends, making out with Kwannon, one of the War Captains charged with protecting everyone. Of course he wouldn’t believe he was safe on Krakoa (you know, along with all the OTHER reasons not to feel safe on Krakoa if you’re not one of the big, special Mutants)

Despite the various complains I had, I still loved this issue. With multiple issues now out I feel comfortable calling this my third favorite X-book right now. And when your competition includes Red and Immortal, third place is still a triumph. I can’t wait for the next issue, and I can only hope Marvel greenlights more just like this.

#New Mutants #Shela Sexton #Escapade #Cerebella #Gabby Kinney #danielle moonstar #xuan cao manh #rahne sinclair

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squeakyfir · 1 year

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I'm your huckleberry (Tombstone 1993) (Doc Holliday)

Description:

The joys of modern inventions and miracles are often taken for granted. Your hungry or thirsty? Get something from the fridge or make it. You need to go somewhere? Drive or call an uber. Your hurt? Go to the doctor.

Your bored? Watch a movie, play video games, watch videos on the internet, talk to people without ever leaving your house.

Some much time is in our hands... but back in the 19th century... you wouldn't last very long.

Diseases are rampant, gun violence is higher, no modern technology, barely any good medicine, almost all of your favorite food doesn't exist and most of the people are rude as hell. But... That doesn't mean all of them were so bad. Love was not something most people in this time really cared about. At least, in the town of Tombstone, Arizona.

After falling asleep with a nice looking stone you bought at a small stand at the carnival, your whole world becomes the opposite. Six people from the past discover you unconscious and alone in the blistering heat and offer help but it was their help that let you meet the most amazing man you've ever met.

John Henry "Doc" Holliday.

Chapter 4

Previous ~ Next

After dropping off the luggage from the wagon to the cottages, you and Wyatt along with his brothers headed out to explore the town. Wyatt had asked you to leave the cell phone in the cottage which you flat out refused to do and still wouldn't comply with wearing a dress to fit in with the crowd. He knew he wasn't going to convince you and just told you to keep it in your pocket.

As you all walked around, people would walk by and stare at you. But then continue on with their buisness. You wanted to take pictures of the buildings but that would be a dumb thing to do since everyone already noticed you and would spot you doing that. Wyatt went off somewhere and his brothers formed a sort of protection circle around you which you thought was nice but it was actually because they were keeping a strict eye on you since they didn't want you running around like a crazy person and getting hurt.

"Hey, Wyatt, get on over here" Morgan called out to him for him to come over. "I want you to meet Fred White. He's the town marshal". Fred White was an older man with noticeable white hair and he wore a hat that was similar to Sheriff Behans and also wore a badge. "My pleasure" Wyatt said as he shook his hand, "Lotta law around here". They retracted their hands and you all started to walk along. "I already met the county Sheriff".

"Who, Behan? He ain't no law. The only real law around here is the Cowboys" Fred White explained.

"Cowboys" Virgil said. "I had a run-in with a couple of them up in Prescott".

"Nobody does nothin' without 'em. I mean, they're it. There are four of 'em right over there". Fred White pointed across the street to four cowboys. One was sitting talking to a woman, another was also talking to another woman and the other two were speaking to Sheriff Behan. "You can always spot a Cowboy. They always wear those red sashes". You continued on walking. "The main fact is the Cowboys are good for buisness".

"'Bout all these Saloons" Wyatt asked.

"Oh thats the real mother lode here in Tombstone. All up and down Allen St. here. Twenty four hours a day, you got Liquor, hostesses, gamblin', makin' money hand-over-fist" Fred White said.

"Oohh" you said getting their attention, "I think I'm gonna like it here". Morgan just chuckled and Wyatt rolled his eyes. Fred looked at you a bit strangely but continued on with the conversation. He was already introduced to you. "All except "THE ORIENTAL"", Fred pointed to a Saloon across the street that had said name. "That's a regular slaughterhouse. Even the high rollers won't go near it". You all walked towards it until you were all standing in the middle of street. "That's too bad too. It's a nice place. Hell of a waste".

You looked over and saw Wyatt staring at the building until he decided to walk across the street to go inside. "There he goes. 'Ol Wyatt" Virgil said. "Do we..?" The three men looked at you. "Do we follow him"?

"No. Let him work his magic" Morgan said. Fred White had to leave so it left you with Virgil and Morgan. "Alright, (y/n)" Virgil said, "Stay close". You followed after them as they continued walking around. "I wish I could take a picture of this place".

"Well don't" Virgil warned, "Keep that thing out sight. Don't want nobody thinkin' your crazy".

"I'm already crazy though" you said happily. Once again, Morgan laughed. "My God, that you are. That you are". You just laughed along with him. "I gotta ask though" Morgan said quietly, "Can you tell me a little bit about the future"? You were about to answer but Virgil cut you off before you could speak. "Not out here. Someone could be listenin'".

"Alright" you said but then said, "I'll tell you about it back at the cottages". They agreed and as you all continued walking, Wyatt came from behind and said, "Well, were off and runnin'. Just acquired us a quarter interest in a game at the "Oriental"".

"Acquired" Virgil asked.

"So to speak. Now all we gotta do is keep our eyes on that brass ring, fellas".

"You're the one, Wyatt" Morgan said. It was then that a new voice called out, "Why, Johnny Tyler"! You all turned to look and who you saw made you freeze in shock. It was the same man you saw that is your supposed soul mate. Same details and everything. Your mouth hung open and you didn't move a muscle. Was it really "Doc" Holliday? "You madcap"!

"Doc" said the man known as Johnny Tyler who also had a shotgun in his hands.

"Where you goin' with that shotgun" asked the man as he stepped forward.

"I didn't know you was back in town" Johnny Tyler said. Doc stopped in front of you and, of course, saw the woman in strange clothing but beautiful nonetheless. "Well well" Wyatt said. "How the hell are you"?

"Wyatt, I am rolling. Morgan" Doc said shaking Morgans hand. "Doc" Morgan greeted. "Virgil" he said shaking his hand and Virgil greeted him back. Now all that was left was you. "And who might this young lady be"? You just stood there beside Morgan and Wyatt and only managed to say, "I... I'm-- I'm at a loss for words".

"I see. And why is that"?

"Wyatt Earp" Johnny Tyler said as if in shock himself which made him and Doc smile. "Well madam" Doc said, "Who might you be"? You still didn't respond but your face started to turn red. Oh God he was even cuter than you thought. "Oh my" Morgan said, "Look at her. Her face is turning red. You embarrassed"? The men started laughing.

"Shut up, Morgan"! You said punching him in the arm. "Alright, Morgan, lay off her" Wyatt said. "Doc, this is (Y/n) (l/n). She's with us".

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, (y/n)" he said extending his hand to you. You accepted it but he grasped it and brought it up to his mouth to place a gentle kiss upon it which made your heart explode and even said "Ravishin'" as he released your hand. "Going into buisness for ourselves, Doc" Morgan explained, "Wyatt just got us a Faro game".

"Oh. Since when is Faro a buisness" Doc asked and taking a puff off of his cigarette.

"Didn't you always say that gambling's an honest trade" Wyatt asked.

"No. I said poker's an honest trade. Only suckers buck the tiger's odds all on the house".

"Depends on how you look at it. I mean, it's not like anybody's puttin' a gun to their head, now is it"?

"That's what I love about Wyatt" Doc laughed and extending his hand to shake Wyatt's hand once again. "He can talk himself into anything". They all laughed softly together but you looked over and saw Johnny staring at you all, you in particular, and making you uncomfortable. "Alright buddy" you said getting all their attention and they quickly noticed you were talking to Johnny. "You're really starting to creep the hell out of me, so go away". Johnny wasn't expecting a very demanding tone from a woman and started getting defensive. "I don't take orders from women-"

"COME SAY THAT TO MY FACE, BITCH"! All of them were in shock. "Woah woah woah" Morgan said trying to calm you down and seeing how mad you were getting. "(Y/n), calm down". Wyatt and Virgil were appalled by that, Morgan was scared but Doc was impressed and a bit shocked. "Johnny, I forgot you were there. You may go now" Doc said dismissively.

"Just leave that shotgun" Wyatt said and holding your arm to keep you back from Johnny. "Yeah" you said mockingly. Johnny was hesitant to drop the gun but you just wouldn't stop egging him on. "Drop it" you said like you were commanding a dog. "Droooppp it... Drooooppp it" you said making the men laugh. Johnny dropped the gun. "Good boy! Now fuck off"! Doc couldn't believe what he was hearing, a woman who could curse a man out so bravely with no fear? Now that's his kind of woman.

Johnny walked away and Doc spoke. "I have to ask, where did you learn words like that"?

"Oh please, that's not even the worst thing I can say".

"I suppose I'll have to trust you on that".

"You know (Y/n)" Wyatt said, "Maybe you should tell him where you come from". You looked at him with worry and didn't know if it was a good idea but you then said, "You tell him and I'll show him". Doc was confused by what was happening and both Morgan and Virgil knew that this would get awkward. "Tell me what"?

"Listen" Wyatt said getting a bit closer to Doc, "I think you can obviously tell shes not from around here but there's a reason for that".

"What's the reason" Doc asked getting concerned. Wyatt motioned for you to come closer and you had then pulled your phone out. "Look". You were concealed and you showed your cell phone by selecting different apps and then opening up your music app. "She's from the future" Wyatt said feeling like a fool for even saying these words. Doc looked at the phone and wasn't sure what to make of it until he heard sound coming from it. It wasn't loud but it was surely magical. It sounded like music. "What is that thing"?

"My cell phone. It's meant for people to talk with each other, no matter how far away they are from each other. But since there's no service out here and I'm the only one in the world who has one right now, it may seem useless but it's not". Doc reached out to touch it but ended up changing the song.

"She doesn't know how she got here but our wives convinced us to bring her with us" Morgan added. You quickly stopped the music, put your phone away and took a step back and the small protection circle was broken. "It's incredible" Doc said.

"Oh that's nothing" Morgan said, "You know what year she's from? 2021"! Doc wasn't sure what to say but now had a million questions. "Well" Doc started, "I hope it's more civilized than here".

"Not really. It's kinda complicated-"

"Wyatt" Virgil said getting his attention, "Sheriff's comin' over".

"No more future talk" Wyatt said quietly for you all to hear. "Sheriff Behan" Wyatt called out. "Have you met Doc Holliday"?

"Piss on you, Wyatt" Doc said annoyingly which made you laugh a bit. Sheriff Behan came over and you stood next to Wyatt. "Mr. Holliday" Sheriff Behan greeted and held out his hand for Doc to shake but he only replied with, "Forgive me if I don't shake hands".

Sheriff Behan retracted his hand and spoke to Wyatt. "So, how's our little town suit you"?

"Fine, fine. You know what I was thinking, what this town could really use is a race track".

"Really? That's not a bad idea" Sheriff Behan replied. "Send a signal were growin' up".

"Way ahead of yourselves, aren't you boys" Doc said. "This is just another mining camp".

"Have you seen how everyone dresses? Awful tony for a mining camp", Sheriff Behan said proudly. "No sir! The die is cast. We are growin'. Be as big as San Francisco in a few years and just as sophisticated-"

Right as the sheriff stopped talking, a gunshot went off across the street which made Wyatt push you behind him and Doc stood next to you quickly with his hand on his gun and still smoking that cigarette. A man emerged from the saloon across the street with blood coming from his neck as he clutched it and three men came out with their guns drawn. The men around you looked ahead and you could see that the Earp brothers were starting to form a protection circle around you. The man with blood coming from his neck fell to the ground and one of them raised their guns only to be shot dead. Many people were watching and you heard Doc say, "Very cosmopolitan".

"I know right. So fancy" you said trying to pretend that this didn't happen but that little remark made Doc smile at you. Sheriff Behan glanced at you and Doc and then Wyatt spoke. "I know him. That's Creek Johnson". The two men with their guns out looked across the street and saw you all. "Wyatt? Doc"? Doc waved them over and the protection circle around you was broken. "Jack" Wyatt greeted. "What the hell's that all about, Creek"?

"He crawfished a bet and called me a liar" the man known as Creek said.

"Sheriff" Doc said, "May I present to you a pair of fellow sophisticates. Turkey Creek Jack Johnson and Texas Jack Vermilion. Watch your ear, Creek". You saw that Creeks ear was bloody and then Fred White had came over to speak. "Afraid I'll have to have those guns".

"It was a fair fight. We was legal" Creek said.

"I'm sorry, boys. I gotta take 'em before Judge Spicer. Hand 'em over". The two handed their guns over and Morgan decided to say, "Law and order everytime, that's us". The sounds of galloping horses were heard and you all looked over to see a huge carriage with six horses pulling it. "I wish I had a horse" you said. They all then looked at you. "How do you not have one" Sheriff Behan asked dumbfounded.

"Her horse died" Wyatt lied.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry madam. If you'd like, our Corrals are sure to give you a new one for a reasonable price".

"Oh-- uhh... Yeah, thank you" you said.

"What kind of town is this" Virgil asked.

"Nice scenery" Morgan said as he looked at the carriage that arrived to see a beautiful woman in a nice grey dress and with an orange umbrella for the sun. "Well" Doc said, "an enchanted moment". They continued staring at her until you cleared your throat to reel them back to reality. "You guys ok? If you like her so much go ask her out on a dat-- oh wait! Nevermind, your all married. My bad" you said which just made Morgan gently slap your arm with a laugh and the other men, Fred White, Sheriff Behan, Creek Johnson, Texas Jack had left.

"Well" Doc said to you to get your attention. "Unlike my other fellow sophisticates, I am not married and as such, I'd like to accompany you to the Birdcage Theater tonight". The Earp brothers looked at Doc in confusion but you were ecstatic. "Theater? You mean like live Theater"?

"That's what I mean. What say you, darlin'"? You starting to blush again and in a very excited tone, you said, "Yes, I'd love too" but your tone changed, "But uh.. I hope you don't mind but I won't wear a dress".

"Why is that? Have they... fallen out of style in your time"?

"No. I just don't like wearing them. They make my skin crawl and it's just not me".

"I see" Doc said eyeing your current outfit. "Is this how others dress"?

"Most but not all".

"Hmmm... Well, dress or no dress, I'll still take you".

"That'd be amazing! I'd love too"!

"Well then" Doc gently took your hand and kissed it delicately, "I'll see you tonight darlin'".

"Yeah. I'll see you tonight" you said smiling so happily and it made Doc smile back. "Gentlemen" Doc said as a departure and walked away. You turned to the Earp brothers and they looked confused but you couldn't help yourself. "I... HAVE A DATE"!

"Don't yell" Virgil said.

"I'm sorry" you said trying to relax, "I'm just so excited! I haven't been on a date in "God knows how long". Not only that, but with a hot guy"!

"Ok ok, keep your voice down" Wyatt said, "I think we've done our job for now. Let's get back to the cottages". You all agreed and started to make your way back to the cottages. Wyatt had mentioned that he would get a start with his new Faro business tonight after the theater since people will come to the Saloons for drinks afterwards.

#will add more tags later

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whovianwholikesgirls · 9 months

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😍🎵🖋 for Spencer?

-selfshippery

The way I screeched once I found this? Thank you for these. Talking about him gives me an instant serotonin boost

😍: things I like about him.

Okay let’s start with personality first. The man is loyal. Like, ride or die for the people he loves most and when you add boyfriendism on top of that? Holy fucking shit. He’d always make sure me needs were taken care of and obviously I’d do that same for him but just having someone that you know is always going to be your rock is super soothing.

Speaking of being my rock, he’s the most caring guy ever and I know he’d always be there for me. Especially on my grumpy chronic pain days.

All of his autistic traits because I have them too and it’s nice to have someone who understands my brain. Not that it’s a personality trait, our developmental disabilities just happen to line up perfectly. That why I fell in love with him because I knew I could be myself around him.

Started learning about my favorite books and music just too feel closer to me/impress me in the early stages of dating but over time he learned to love them too

I also go on rambles on stuff I’m passionate about and sometimes people are like, “Kate slow down I’m not getting the context.” Which is a fair response it’s just nice to have someone who gets it. Half of the time if I’m on a case in the field working doing tech things instead of doing them at Quantico with Garcia, I’m basically the, “Reid translator.” Which is cute. We could literally talk about books and doctor who all day

One of my favorite self insert scenes is when Spence is explaining the Death Star to Morgan and Morgan goes, “I’m taking back the last 5 minutes of my life.” Instead the scene goes like this:

Me: What was it? Your whole conversation about Morgan with the amount of jewels of energy and the Death Star?

Him: *chuckles* you haven’t even seen Star Wars yet

Me: then teach me, I wanna know. Literally the only thing I know about Star Wars is that Luke and Leia are the good guys and Darth Vader is Luke’s dad

Him: *oh my god I can’t believe I’m dating this person heart eyes* okay, *holds my hand just because after a year of dating he likes the contact until he eventually has to let it go because he gets really excited and started talking with his hands* let’s start at the beginning

The physical stuff. Because he’s him and he’s hot and before I start going on my own ramble I’d like to point out I fell for the emotional stuff first.

His hair, especially seasons 4 and 9. I just want to run my fingers through it and there’s a reason why I set our wedding during the beginning of s4 in cannon because I love the slicked back prince charming hair.

You can literally see everything emotion this man has ever had through his eyes and it makes my heart stop.

Sure he talks with his hand but they’re also very pretty. I’d hold them all day if I could.

I’ve always liked guy who ate lanky so there’s that lol

🎵: Songs that remind me of him/us.

Oh I’ve got two separate playlists. One for just him that’s random songs and one that’s all Taylor Swift songs and remind me of him and our relationship. I recommend my spate as told my Taylor lyrics tag because I assign soooo many good songs/lyrics there. Right now if I had to pick a Taylor song off the top of my head if would be Timeless

A specific Taylor song that’s just Spencer coded is this is me trying

Songs that aren’t Taylor songs that I love

Pancakes for dinner - Lizzy McAlpine

Home and Sink Into You - Deore

🖊️: which one of us would write poetry for the other

A 50/50 split. Mostly me because I’ll admit I write him letters in my journal to decompress, but I bet I could write him some love letters/poems too

I think he would if he had a reason too, not in his spare time like I would. For my birthday, an anniversary, or his wedding vows

#spate #self shipping ask game

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a-heros-heart · 2 years

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The Ascent

Hiya. I’m not dead. Life has a way of being funny and decided to make life busy between now and my last writing prompt post. But we just gotta keep moving forward no matter what.

This is an idea I’ve mulled over in my head for a while. I like hallway fight scenes like in Daredevil, Oldboy, and John Wick and I wanted to try my hand at one.

Felix yawned and stretched as his three thirty psychology class came to an end. He had taken the class at the behest of his twin sister Morgan, who wanted to take a class with her brother.

“Remember class, the deadline to submit your research papers is tonight. Best of luck to those who have yet to begin working on them.” The psychology professor looked directly at Felix who gave a sly grin in response. Felix often gave the illusion he was not paying attention to class, but always received near perfect scores on assignments. Although he could obtain perfect scores, he did not want to add insult to injury to Morgan who practically begged him to take the class.

As they exited the class, Morgan slung her bag over her shoulder purposefully knocking her brother in the head. What she did not expect was for Felix to stumble over and hit the wall, slumping over. Other students gasped and slowed down to view the unfolding drama.

“I didn’t even hit you that hard little brother.” Morgan began. However Felix did not reply. After a few moments Morgan became concerned and approached him. Felix quickly spun around, grabbing his sister by the waist, and dragged her to the door laughing.

“Put me down you menace!” Morgan protested. But Felix continued laughing as he carried his sister to the door, wading his way through the group of students were gathered by the door waiting for the rain to lessen.

It had been raining for days in McCallen and today was no different. The gray skies were rare in McCallen where the days were normally sunny. Felix stopped just inches from the door and noticed Morgan was calm.

“What gives?” Felix asked.

“If you were going to shove me out in the rain you would have done it already.” She wheezed. Morgan wouldn’t give her brother any satisfaction, not even her difficulty in breathing.

“Who says I’m still not going to do it?”

“I am.”

“But what if I do?”

“Felix I played along with your trick and gave you the reaction you wanted to see what you had planned. You wouldn’t really toss me in the rain but you wanted me to believe you would because I guess that’s what brothers do.”

“You’re no fun.” Felix sighed, setting Morgan down.

“Maybe if you paid attention in class you would learn a thing or two about reverse psychology.” She huffed, straightening out her coat.

“Oh I do. I just pretended that I didn’t care so that I could make you believe that you’re one step ahead.” Felix taunted, gently shoving his sister to the door. Morgan stumbled and fell onto the door causing it to fling open, becoming immediately drenched.

Felix became red with laughter as the group of students silently stared on. Once Felix noticed Morgan, his laughter ceased. She gave him the most soul piercing stare that even the fearless hero began to sweat.

“C'mon Morgan. It’s just rain.” Felix pleaded.

Morgan silently stood, straightened her coat, and began walking away from Felix.

“I’ll buy you lunch!” he shouted. Morgan stopped and considered the offer.

One silent, half-hour drive later Felix and Morgan were sat in a Mediterranean restaurant at Felix’s offer. Morgan had not said a word to her twin since the incident. She stared at him, occasionally squinting at him and only spoke when the waiter asked for her order.

“How long are you going to keep this up for Morgan?” Felix whined. In response Morgan slowly blinked and shook her head.

Felix sighed “Look I don’t know how many times I can say sorry. I didn’t know your bag was open.”

Morgan remained silent.

“Alright well I have to make a phone call anyways so I’ll be back.” Felix bluffed.

He stood up and left the restaurant, walking all the way to the corner of the street where the parking garage was. Felix tapped away on his phone for a few moments before the panicked sounds of a young woman caught his attention. He pressed himself against the wall and listened in as best he could.

“-sweetheart. Either your husband finds the cash or he’s going to have to report his wife missing. Might not be able to find her for a coupla’ days.” the gruff voice of an unseen man threatened.

Crouched and counted the pairs of legs he could see. “Two. Five. Nine. Er, fifteen? Has to be at least twenty.” He whispered to himself.

The men gradually walked towards the back of the parking garage continuing to threaten and jeer at the woman who was holding back tears. Felix took advantage of this opening and quickly moved to his car which was close to the entrance. He slowly removed his keys from his pocket and placed one hand on top of the trunk. With his other hand he slid the key into the trunk slot and felt it pop open. Without letting the trunk fully open, Felix reached in and grabbed two metallic suitcases on the right side of the trunk and pulled the cover back down. The men were now by the elevator conversing just out of earshot.

Felix inhaled and exhaled to ease his nerves. He stood, pulling the edges of one case and tapped the top of the other with his foot. Both cases whirred to life and began expanding and contorting to Felix’s body.

“What the fuck was that?” someone shouted.

“Go check it out numbskull.” another ordered.

Both cases formed a suit of armor around Felix, though not as tough as his regular suit. He had constructed a lighter suit for moments when he didn’t have access to his main armor. Felix had dubbed this his ‘speed suit’. Light with just enough armor to stop a bullet, and easily portable.

“Oh shit, it's him!” one of the grunts shouted before receiving a quick jab in the gut.

“We’re fucked!” the other man flanking Sunrise shouted before he collapsed from a strike to the neck.

Sunrise rose and glanced at the men who had begun to scramble. He saw a portly man holding the woman enter the elevator with two other men. The others argued for a moment before some took the stairs while four others approached him.

“You don’t want to do this,” Sunrise warned. His plea fell on deaf ears. Two pulled out knives from their pockets. One slid a pair of brass knuckles on his fists. The last one tapped a bat against his palm.

Without a second warning, Sunrise dove towards the man with the bat catching him off guard. They both fell to the floor wrestling for the bat. One of the men grabbed his leg and was rewarded with a swift kick in the nose. Another received a blow to the temple with Sunrise’s free fist and recoiled. Sunrise stood and lifted his original opponent with one arm. He struck the man in his stomach and released him. The man with brass knuckles had backed away from the skirmish.

“Leave.” Sunrise ordered. The man obliged, dropping his weapons and taking off.

Sunrise dashed to the elevator and tapped the call button rapidly. He was too late.

“Fuck!” Sunrise hissed, punching the doors. He looked up at the floor indicator and noted the highest floor was 15. The light quickly switched from four to five.

Sunrise knew he couldn’t waste any more time. He darted towards the stairwell and kicked the door open. The door slammed against a man sending him reeling backwards. Sunrise grabbed his shirt and shoved him face first back into the door.

“He’s here!” someone shouted from above. The sound of rapid footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

Sunrise met two grunts as he ascended the stairs. He swiftly struck one in the throat and blocked a kick from the other. Using both arms, Sunrise pulled the man with ease sending him tumbling down the stairs. Two more men quickly replaced the ones Sunrise dispatched. One grabbed a horn on his helmet, pulling his head back while the other wrapped his hands around Sunrise’s neck.

With his raw strength alone, Sunrise freed his neck by grabbing his assailant's hands with an iron grip. The man yelped as Sunrise tossed him over the rail. Switching his focus to the other attacker, Sunrise grabbed his wrist and forced it away from his horn. His attacker instinctually released his hand not wanting it to be broken, but fell into the hero’s trap. Using his body, Sunrise shoved the man into the wall with his shoulder. The man crumpled to the floor with the wind knocked out of him.

Before he could plan his next move, two shots hitting his chest plate drew Sunrise’s ire.

“You fuckin’ idiot, you’re supposed to aim for the head!” a voice scolded before firing a shot that ricocheted off the side of his helmet.

Sunrise turned his head towards the shooters and noticed they jumped slightly. Instinctively, Sunrise reached for his cape to block any more shots. His heart sank when his hand grabbed nothing but air. Mentally kicking himself, he walked menacingly up the stairs towards his next opponents.

“Shit! He’s not stopping!”

“I know moron!”

Sunrise held his hand out as he walked, stopping the shots with the armor plating on his palm. When he was close enough and his attackers out of ammunition, he grabbed both of thier heads and slammed them against each other.

The weight of his armor began to take its toll on the hero. His breaths were becoming more ragged as he dispatched foe after foe. Each gunshot weakened his already crumbling armor plates. Despite the overwhelming onslaught of henchmen, Sunrise continued to move up the staircase with an unmatched fury. Each punch numbed his wrist, each kick turned his legs to jelly. Sunrise lost count after the eighteenth dreg he subdued.

Sunrise coughed as he received a strike to his stomach from the last minion guarding the door.

“Wussa matter? You tired you fr-” Sunrise grabbed the leg of his last obstacle as he was taunting him, lifted, and swiftly slammed him into the ground.

Before he had a moment to think, the man grabbed Sunrise’s leg catching him off guard. He fell beside the man groaning as his body hit the concrete. Both men writhed in pain for a moment before the lackey stood up with great effort. He moved over to the nearly unconscious hero and began punching his helmet. After the third punch, Sunrise grabbed the man’s shoulders and slammed his helmet against his attacker’s face, smearing his visor with blood. Sunrise now stood over his unconscious enemy and considered a final kick to the chest, but decided on saving his energy.

Falling to one knee, Sunrise took a moment to catch his breath. It had been less than eight minutes since he entered the parking garage, but to him an eternity had passed. Sunrise was lightheaded and exhausted. Though he had reason to give up, he could never quit once he set his mind to a task. He stood, ready to press onward and placed a trembling hand on the door. Immediately after opening the door his senses were assaulted by the pounding rain and the shout of a man.

“You bit me! You bitch!”

“Help me!” she cried.

Metal rang amidst the rain. Not a bullet. Sunrise determined. He looked down to see a set of keys by his foot. Her attacker had no escape, but he did have a hostage.

A sharp impact on his shoulder sent his thoughts away and his focus returned. The boss had shot him, numbing his arm. Reflexively, Sunrise lifted his arms to protect his face from further fire. Two shots hit his left arm causing him to groan from pain.

“Stay outta my business you freak! This one owes me a lot of money, and I ain’t walkin’ away until I get it!” the boss ordered.

Without a word Sunrise slowly marched forward taking two more bullets to the leg. His armor had crumbled to nothing but metal, metal that made him heavy and hot. But Sunrise refused to relent. No one would escape his wrath, certainly not this man. The loud thunk of his footsteps overpowered the sound of the rain as he approached his target.

“Get outta here you!” The boss had now aimed the gun at the woman’s head.

“Please listen to him, I have kids! I don’t want to die!” she cried.

“Heroes don’t run.” Sunrise huffed. His voice had become scratchy from his coughing a moment ago. He had stopped just a few feet away for safety.

“You think I won’t kill her and not get my money?” Sunrise noticed the man was shorter than he expected. Short and slightly portly, an easy target.

“Shut up lady!” he shouted at his hostage who was now in hysterics.

“Sure, you can kill her. But if you shoot her you won’t have the time to shoot me after. But if you did, I would be very very angry. So what’s going to stop me from feeding you your own spine afterwards?” Sunrise spoke calmly. The man’s face had become slightly paler. “Give me the gun. Police arrest you, and you can be out of prison in a few days. Then we can do this all over again.” Sunrise was now a few inches away from the man’s face which had now become as white as a sheet.

Sunrise offered his open palm. The man thought for a moment, biting his lip. After some time he reluctantly placed the revolver into the hero’s hands and backed away from the woman. “Thanks.” Sunrise closed his fist around the weapon and without warning, struck the man on the nose which gave a loud crack as he fell to the floor.

“G-guh.” was all he could get out before he received a metal boot to his mouth.

“Are you ok?” Sunrise asked the woman. She nodded slowly, still in shock at what had happened over the past few minutes.

“Question is, are you ok?” She asked in return. Sunrise was covered head to toe in blood. His armor was mangled and dented in many places.

“You should see the other guys.”

“You weren’t really going to let him shoot me right?” she asked. Sunrise revealed the revolver’s cylinder. All 5 slots were empty.

“I figured I would let him think he had me where he wanted. Reverse psychology.” Sunrise said, tossing the empty gun at the man.

“Sorry about all this. I had lost my job and needed some money to help my family. A friend of mine said that she knew someone who could get me a fast loan. What I didn’t know was that he was a loan shark.” She began. Sunrise nodded too tired to think of a response. “We used up the money pretty fast. And I couldn’t make the payments back at all. He started with a few phone calls, then sending people to my house. I’m just glad this is all over.” She finished, wiping her eyes.

“Tell that to the police when they get here. Also, get a lawyer. Don’t trust anyone around here except one firm on 3rd and Brighton Street. Ask for a girl named Kylie, she’ll help you.” Sunrise began walking towards the elevator.

“Thank you!” She called out as Sunrise entered the elevator. He silently waved back, as the doors closed.

Summoning all the stamina he had left, Felix ran to his car as the armor disassembled off his body. Once both pieces were back in their original form, he wrapped the blood-soaked cases in his forgotten cape and slammed his trunk shut. He checked his clothes in the side mirror, straightening out any wrinkle. Thankfully, his coat would cover the bruises on his body. Felix took one last moment to calm his nerves before joining his sister.

After a much needed moment to himself, Felix re-entered the restaurant and took his seat in front of his sister who had a bored look on her face.

“Long phone call.” She noted. Morgan folded her hands and placed her chin on it, staring at her brother.

“Yeah, business as usual.” Felix replied, taking a sip of his now warm glass of water.

“Oh, the rain stopped.” Morgan noted with a smile on her face. “Today is looking better already.”

“Mm.” Felix mused, as the sounds of police sirens wailed in the distance.

#hero #short story #amateur writer #fun fact about this #I forgot to write him putting on his cape #and I realized it midway through that one scentence #so instead of going back and writing it in #I just made him forget the cape

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cyarsk52-20 · 7 months

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Denver Sean

Tory Lanez Denied Bond, Will Remain in Jail

September 14, 2023 12:59 PM PST

Tory Lanez will stay in jail.

His request to be released on bond pending his appeal was just denied.

If you recall, Tory asked the judge to let him return home to live with his son and new wife during his appeal process.

The judge wasn’t having it, noting that Tory has been convicted of a violent felony along with a history of violating court orders — and he’s not a U.S. citizen.

via Rolling Stone:

Representing Peterson in court were attorneys Crystal Morgan and Michael Hayden of the nonprofit legal group Unite the People, which is representing him for his appeal. The group’s CEO and director, Caesar McDowell, previously spoke about Peterson’s character during his sentencing hearing, noting that Peterson has donated time and resources to the organization. Outside the court Thursday morning, McDowell brought up concerns about the initial trial and said Peterson’s conviction and punishment wasn’t fair. “To be convicted for 10 years in state prison for your first time being in prison, we feel that that’s disproportionate, We feel that he wasn’t given a fair shake,” he said. Given the results of Peterson and his team’s previous efforts to lessen his punishment, getting granted bail was never the most likely outcome. The request came after Peterson was denied probation prior to last month’s sentencing when his attorneys said Peterson suffered from alcohol and drug addiction and should go to rehab instead. Herriford also denied Peterson’s request for a new trial in May. Peterson was sentenced for the shooting in August, nearly eight months after he was found guilty of first-degree assault with a firearm, discharge of a firearm with gross negligence, and having a concealed firearm in a vehicle. Ahead of his sentencing, Pete wrote a statement about the hardships she has endured since the shooting. “I struggle with being present. After everything that occurred I cannot bring myself back to being in the same room with Tory,” Pete wrote. “He paid bloggers to disseminate false information; he treated my trauma like a joke when I could’ve been dead. He blamed the system, he blamed the press, and as of late he is using his childhood trauma to justify his actions.” Peterson pleaded for leniency from Herriford prior to the sentencing, noting he needed to be in his son’s life and refuting that the shooting represented who he is as a person. “I’m standing in front of you as a father to a six-year-old who needs me every step of the way,” Peterson told Judge David Herriford. “There’s been this misconception about me being this monster, not having remorse, that’s just not true,” he said, noting that he couldn’t go into specifics about the evening at the advice of his legal counsel. “That night, everyone was drunk, I said things I shouldn’t have said. The victim was my friend, I still care about her. We both lost mothers, we’d sit there and drink until we felt numb. Everything I did wrong that night I take responsibility for.” Never having admitted to the shooting, Peterson wrote a letter to fans days after his sentencing maintaining he was wrongfully convicted and refusing to apologize. “I have never let a hard time intimidate me. I will never never let no jail time eliminate me. Regardless of how they try to spin my words, I have always maintained my innocence and I always will,” Peterson wrote. “This week in court I took responsibility for all verbal and intimate moments that I shared with the parties involved… that’s it. In no way shape or form was I apologizing for the charges I’m being wrongfully convicted of. I remain on the stance that I refuse to apologize for something that I did not do.”

We bet he wishes he would’ve taken that plea deal now…

#This whole case had me changing my opinions and views(at least for the moment)#celebrating the police and the system #being xenophobic towards Canadian people #posting stories with reader plus white celebrities with fluffy or smutty material #nearly being racist towards black men #saying that some of them nigcels deserved to be another hashtag #and backing the death penalty.#megan thee stallion #i’m not sad for her #i’m outraged #i’m just glad she’s in a better place now #those people can speak for themselves they know who they are #and they can go straight to hell #they will pay for their crimes #for sucking that abusers meat #Instagram #As always a loud and sincere fuck you to everyone who has doubted her and supported that Canadian cuntery who must not be named #She went through unnecessary trauma for two years #That’s unforgivable #Next level fuckery #That that type of ish that would lead to an episode of snapped or deadly women #once again #🖕🏿daystar Peterson #annnnn boom #just like that #may all who come against black women rot #Don’t fuck with black women #If you can’t love them then at least don’t harm them #can’t wait to see that sociopath locked up on August 7th.#can’t wait to see that sociopath locked up on august 7th

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awful-roffle-archive · 2 years

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🌹🍄🍂 for callie my beloved, 🌾💐🌺 for orion and 🌳🥀💫 for trinity!!! :] <3

HELLO THIS HAS TAKEN ME. WEEKS TO DO. IM SORRY

also i am putting this under a cut bc wow long post is long

tw alcohol mention in orion's section!

Calypso 🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

Calypso feels most at home when she thinks about her family. She has fond memories of traveling on a train and being held tight in a blanket while she lulled off into a deep sleep. She misses it. She misses her family, being held like that. The naïvety of it all. She hasn't gone on any long distance trips since she's gotten to the present - she's too afraid of everything being far too different. Everything is so different. Trinity seems to mend that feeling together. There's a semblance of warmth, of safety, around her. With how different everything feels, she feels familiar somehow - despite being new as well. By the time Orion reunites with her, her world seems to click back into place in that moment. If anyone - anything - manages to feel like a constant home to her, it's him. Home is a place where you feel safe and warm, like nothing can harm you there no matter what the world may throw at you.

🍄 What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

Callie is a big fan of sweets! When she was little her mom would always make her a special batch of cookies with various nuts in it when she was feeling down. Her mom called it the 'Morgan Special' and Calypso's gotten quite good at replicating it. She sells it at her bakery, in fact! Other than making baked goods, she quite likes making soups and stews. Her favorite is peanut or groundnut soup! She wasn't very good in the kitchen upon arriving to the present, but she's very quickly learned to cook and utilize her powers involving food and ingredients.

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with receiving affection from others?

Calypso loves hugs! Her primary affection IS physical, she loves giving and receiving it. She enjoys holding hands, leaning against others, hugs, cuddles, you name it. She's less inclined to touch strangers however: you never know who you're able to trust getting that close to you.

Orion 🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

"Oh hey, can I do this one?" Trinity pipes up as Calypso reads out the question. Callie shrugs and sits back, half propping her legs up on the coffee table.

"Oh boy. Here we go." Orion mutters to himself, already covering his face with his hands.

"He's selfless and funny and handsome and-"

"Brave. And talented. And so, so full of love." Calypso finishes Trinity's sentence for her, yanking Orion closer to plant kisses all over his face. "Even if he won't admit it."

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

Orion has a tendency to not let himself get sick with his bio-manipulation, but there have been times in the past where he still ended up bed ridden for a few days while his body healed itself after really brutal fights. He hates being forced to rest, he has things to do, he doesn't like having to just lay there and do nothing. Reversed, he's excellent at nursing others. If they should allow it and they're in a good position, he'll almost always use his powers to combat their illness or injuries. Otherwise, he'll stick by them and take care of them manually; he likes feeling useful.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

In the past Orion's had a tendency to drown himself in alcohol to get over his nightmares. He convinced himself that his nightmares couldn't come back to haunt him if he forced himself to black out to the point he couldn't dream at all. Nowadays with Calypso and Trinity, they tend to treat him with cuddles and a mug of tea. He doesn't particularly have any comfort items that help with his nightmares as they're mostly PTSD induced, unfortunately.

Trinity 🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

On her own, she tends to curl up with a book she's read dozens of times - it's a story about an adventurer getting lost in the jungle - she primarily reads it for the nostalgia aspect nowadays. A friend gave her the book in the 7th grade but she lost contact with them long ago. Then after dinner she'll take a warm bath and call it a night, typically falling asleep to some cheesy predictable romance movie. With Calypso and Orion in her life, her relaxation methods don't change all that much; she just has someone else to hold her close now should she need it.

🥀 How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

Trinity hasn't kept a journal since she was a freshman in high school. Back in the day, though, she'd use it to keep track of her schedule primarily. It wasn't uncommon to find boxes with descriptions and notes on friends and loved ones in there either, with stick figure doodles beside their names. (And sometimes little hearts depending on her feelings towards them!) If you EVER brought up that journal and asked her about it, Trinity would (affectionately) never forgive you and run away in an instant.

The closest she has to a notebook now is the calendar app on her phone, as well as the calendar they have hanging up in the kitchen. You can still find little hearts reminiscent of her notes on her handwritten calendar entries next to things involving her fiancés.

💫 What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

I really like how close she is with her family! She's one of the only characters I have with a completely loving supportive family, and I love this for her. Despite Jameson having moved out of town for awhile, she still regularly calls him over video call, generally late at night when she gets a moment to herself.

#thank u for the ask !! im sorry this took 900 years :(#my ocs #calypso #orion #trinity #i didnt do a uh. example for trin's journal bc she doesn't Have one anymore but i hope my description works anyway KLSFHKLS

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