#a dutch book on bird watching no less....

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part VI: horseshoe overlook ii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 13.3k

summary: you, Arthur, and Hosea find some important horses on your trek to a hunt gone-wrong. Away from camp, Arthur opens up, letting you peek through his point of view to his heart-breaking past. Dutch asks for your help.

a/n: chapter six! Arthur and reader find their heart horses, there's a lot of hurt/comfort too which we love. Oh and I spoiled a plot point to Jane Eyre, so sorry if you were planning to read it, but also it was published 176 years ago so maybe get onto that. Also the tuberculosis in Jane Eyre was just a coincidence, so don't fret. I plan on keeping Arthur tb free. Lastly, there is some good ol' fashioned 'talking about our feelings' in this chapter. We are opening up and talking about trauma, yay! BTW, series hit 50k this chapter! Anyway! Enjoy

warnings: animal abuse (seeing a horse that has been abused), mentions of former child abuse, mentions of infertility, all are described briefly, nothing graphic.

SERIES MASTERPOST

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo10300 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup

Arthur’s supposed to be on watch, and you’re supposed to be doing laundry. But he’s tired of staring at trees and you’re sick of cleaning beer and stew out of Uncle’s long johns, so here you are.

Technically, Arthur hasn’t completely abandoned his task like you have. You’re both sitting on a decent sized boulder, the one he always sits on during his guard shift, just off the trail into Horseshoe. But his eyes are not focused on the trees, instead they fixate on his journal, where he is sketching something on the ivory pages. You’re all too curious, again, about what he’s drawing, but he's positioned in a manner so the contents remain hidden from your nosey gaze. He hasn’t missed the way you subtly lean every once in a while, peering down your nose to try and see the pages. Each time he notices, a small smile tugs on his lip, and he pulls the journal a little tighter towards himself. Arthur’s carbine rests between you two on the rock, next to a little bag of candies that he had picked up when you were in town a few days ago. Currently, your nose is in a book, but you haven’t been reading it for a few moments, instead peeking over the pages at Arthur. It’s nice to get away from camp for a bit. The past few days you’ve spent doing house chores for Grimshaw. She was less than happy when you “Went to the saloon all day with the men” as she put it, those couple days ago. She made sure that you made up for the lost time, and you were stuck peeling potatoes for so long that your hands went numb. 

It’s a beautiful day, the sun shines brightly, and a warm breeze passes through the camp. Birds chirp, singing their tunes as they build nests in the trees above your head. A few rabbits have passed by, even a fox, filling up on food before the storm hits, another reason you’re avoiding your chores. Charles had warned everyone that by the look of the clouds, a big storm was coming, probably tomorrow. You’ll be damned if you spent the last nice day staring at Pearson’s apron or a laundry bin.

You watch as Arthur moves his eyes from the journal to the bag of sweets, and he reaches into it, pulling out a yellow candy. With an almost unnoticeable frown, he drops it back into the paper  bag, and pulls out a red one. He seems satisfied enough with this choice, and he brings the little treat to his lips. It’s been so long since you’ve had the pleasure of candy, and you’ve gone and eaten nearly half the bag. You haven’t had money for pleasantries in a long while, not since your momma died anyway. 

“You don’t like the lemon ones?” You ask, reaching into the bag and pulling out the one he had dropped back inside. You pop it into your mouth, eyes slipping shut in bliss from the sweet, tart flavor of the candy. Arthur looks up at you for a quick moment, scanning over your face with a chuckle before trailing back down to his journal. 

“Nah, I like 'em well enough, but I noticed they’re your favorite. Didn’t wanna take all the good ones from ya.” 

You smile, grabbing another yellow candy from the bag just as you feel the remnants of the last one finish dissolving. You missed hard candies. They weren’t exactly high on your list of priorities before joining the gang. You put your book down, a piece Marybeth had let you borrow. You’ve read it a few times, and you already know exactly what the pages entail. However, you don’t know what the pages of Arthur’s journal look like. 

“Whatcha drawin’?” You ask, criss crossing your legs on the boulder. Arthur huffs a laugh, having expected this question. 

“Nothin’ much, just somethin’ little.” Arthur whispers. You’re confused as he leans down towards the grass, plucking a dooryard violet from a little patch of the wildflowers. So many of Arthur’s actions throw you for a loop. He’s so… dynamic, constantly showing you new sides to him that you would never expect. 

He unsheathes his hunting knife, quickly snipping the stem of the flower off. Now what really throws you off is when Arthur leans over, concentrated, and tucks the flower behind your ear. He adjusts your hair accordingly. 

“There,” He whispers, settling back into his former position to admire you. “Purple looks good on you, well except when it's your cheek that's purple but-” Arthur jokes, nodding to your bruised cheek, and you laugh, shoving him a bit. 

“I was just about to say that you’re goin’ soft, but now you’re makin’ fun of me. I guess things are back to normal.”

Arthur’s face turns to mock hurt, as he squints at you. 

“I ain’t goin’ soft.” He chides. 

You placate him, putting your hands up. 

“Alright, whatever you say, Mister.” 

With a smile, you pick your book back up. Arthur reaches into the bag of candy, pulling out a yellow one. Words need not be said as he mumbles to get your attention, and when you look up, he tosses the little yellow candy towards you. You catch it, tossing it into your mouth and thanking him. It’s quiet as both of you pick your books back up. It’s nice, with you both silently enjoying each other's company. You’re lost in the world of Jane Eyre, and Arthur lost in his journal. Every so often Arthur will peek up from his book, glancing at you for a moment before returning to his sketching. 

You reach the bit of the novel where Helen is lying on her deathbed, finally succumbing to tuberculosis. This particular scene has been read and reread by you many times, but it still manages to choke you up. Helen is so brave in the face of death, so sure of the paradise that will await her. And poor Jane, another loss, another grief. You’re not sure what happens after death, but if there is an afterlife, you’re not so sure you’ll be on the pleasant side of it. Tears begin to prick the sides of your eyes as Helen speaks her last line to Jane, begging her not to grieve, beckoning her to find joy. Arthur eyes you curiously from the side of his eyes, wondering what about that little book has you so in your head. With a sigh, you finish the chapter and sniffle, placing the book down to take a breath. Arthur’s charcoal stills on the paper as he hesitates, a question on his lips. 

“What's goin’ on in that head a yours? Tough read?” Arthur asks, gesturing to the little ruby colored book in your hands. You meet his gaze with a raised eyebrow, placing the book down on it’s opened pages to keep  your spot. 

“How about a compromise? I’ll tell ya…if you show me what you’re drawin.” 

Arthur’s eyes turn dark with mock threat as he whispers, tone gravelly. 

“Never.”  He chuckles, and you sigh dramatically. 

You both slip into a comfortable silence again, and you find yourself bored. You don’t feel like reading any more, and you’ve picked through most of the yellow candies, so in a futile attempt to distract yourself you toy with your spurs, flicking the rowel and watching as it spins. Arthur notices this, and he huffs. He’s noticed in the past few weeks that you’re always keeping your hands busy, always toying with something or other. He thinks back to when you were tracing constellations on his palm in the bath, and his head hangs low with some shame, and a pain. 

“I uh- I been meanin’ to apologize…” Arthur mumbles, eyes fixated on his book. 

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, what on earth does he have to apologize for?

“The other day in Valentine, in the bath house. I overstepped- or I misread the situation n’ Im sorry. Never meant to make you uncomfortable, Star.” Arthur all but whispers, a heavy feeling settling in his gut because he doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to push you away, and he is. 

Immediately your heart sinks, you’ve been meaning to have this conversation, practicing your words when you lie awake at night, unable to sleep. But all the things you wanted to say slip from your mind.

“That wasn't… you didn't-" You mumble, at a loss for words. There's so much you could tell him right now, so much you could explain. But you don't. No, instead you shove it down, pulling that unbothered facade over your face that has been protecting you from heartache for years. 

"We don't gotta talk about it, Arthur." You whisper, flicking the rowel of your spurs and avoiding his eye contact. 

You can still see it though, as Arthur leans back, cocking his head with a downcast face. He wants to talk about it, but you can't. 

With a sigh, you lay back against the rock, hands behind your head to look up at the clouds. As soon as your back hits the rock, Arthur sighs, humorously irritated. 

"Dammit woman will you just- " Arthur chuckles, pulling you back up to a sitting position by grabbing your forearm. 

"Just hold still for a minute, I'm tryin' to do somethin…" Arthur smiles because you're always moving, you can't sit still, and a moving model proves to be a difficult one. 

You go back to your sitting position, and Arthur leans over towards you, adjusting the violet in your hair. Your eyebrows are pulled together in confusion for a moment until you spot the little journal sitting in his lap, closed over his charcoal. Your eyes go wide, and your lips crack into a shocked smile.

Arthur leans back, picking the journal back up and opening it. For a few seconds his eyes run over the soft features of your face, and then he looks down to his paper.

"You're- You're drawin' me ?" You ask, perplexed, honored.

When Arthur glances up, seeing the look on your face, he gets nervous. He probably should have asked your permission first. He didn't mean anything strange by the drawing, and he doesn't want you to think that. 

Arthur scratches the back of his neck, searching for words to explain, but falling short.

"Uh- yeah, I am. But I don't mean anything odd by it. I just like to draw things that I like or that I find- Well, I don't know, usually I draw things that I think are pretty. Like nature n' plants and uh…" Arthur rambles, terrified you're gonna think he's some type of pervert. A smile blossoms across your face, a full, genuine one. He's dug himself in with his words he realizes when you lean in toward him, voice quiet. 

"...and me?" You ask, finishing his sentence. Arthur smiles crookedly, eyes on the paper as he responds. 

"Yeah, like you." 

You smile, content. Arthur continues sketching. The quiet scratching of charcoal on paper is the only reminder that he's still beside you as you slip your eyes shut, soaking up the last of the sun. You listen to his sketching, to his breathing, and the little sighs and chuckles he lets out when you move too much. He knows you can't sit still, it's just one of those little things about you. 

After a while, the sketching stops, and you peek one eye open, glancing down at Arthurs hands. He sets the charcoal down, closes the book and then dusts his hands off of his jeans. 

"You gonna let me see it?" You ask, turning towards him, adjusting the flower in your hair. 

"I never really shown anyone this… My new one or my old." Arthur says, quietly. 

"You don't gotta, it's okay." You reassure, sincerely. He's very closed off about the journal, and you respect that. Having one yourself, you understand the desire to keep it hidden away. Arthur thinks for a moment, looking down to the leather bound journal in his hands. 

"Here," he whispers, opening it to the correct page and handing it towards you. You hesitate, not wanting to push him, but he nods for you to go on.

"It's just for fun, I'm not real good or anything." Arthur adds, always having a lesser opinion of his works. 

You very gently take the pages from his hands, pulling the book towards you. You cover your gaping mouth in shock. Anytime Arthur has previously mentioned his drawings he downplayed them greatly. You should have expected this, as he always down plays his talents. But you had expected messy scribblings, doodles. 

What Arthhr has created is beautiful. He intricately copied your face onto the paper, perfectly portraying you in his own style. His shading is perfect, contouring your face and the bright smile plastered onto it. He's drawn the violet, sticking out from behind your ear. 

"Arthur…" You gasp, taken aback by his artistry. Next to the journal is a little note, accompanied by your name, spelled out in all caps, and a little drawing of the north star. 

She joined me for my guard shift again. We was bored so I started drawing while she read something or other. She looked real pretty with that flower in her hair, oh and she likes YELLOW CANDIES.

Arthur blushes a bit, embarrassed that you've read his thoughts, but he knows you won't judge him for it. Make fun of him, however? Knowing you, you will. He chuckles, glancing up to your face. 

A throat clears behind you both, and you jump, turning to see Hosea standing there. He curiously eyes Arthur's journal in your hands, eyes flickering between the two of you, knowing that you're the first person he's ever shown those pages to. 

"How's your watch goin'?" Hosea asks, knowingly quirking a brow. 

"Just fine, now whatchu need?" Arthur asks, gently taking the journal back and binding it up. Hosea is unshaken by Arthur's attitude, having dealt with it for nearly twenty years. 

"Your horse. I'm heading to the stables to buy a new ride, but I need a way to get there." Hosea answers. 

"Thought that was your horse there? Why don't you ride him down to the stables?" Arthur asks, gesturing up the slope towards the hitching posts to where a massive black shire horse resides. You don't recall seeing the beastly animal before, but then again you've been stuck with Miss Grimshaw. 

"Yes, well I'm giftin' that bastard to you. He's a nasty son of a bitch, and I'm too old to be thrown. I nearly died a handful of times just getting him back here. I stole him from a fella on the road a few days back, now Karmas got me." Hosea says, angrily gesturing towards the stallion who is pinning his ears and pawing the ground impatiently. 

"He can't be all bad. You know anything about him?" You say, eyebrows pulled together as you stand up, walking up the slopes to the posts. The two boys follow you. 

"Well before I robbed him of his horse and his hunting map, me and this fella got to drinkin'. He was boasting about this damn thing, and said it was immortal. Apparently he was ridden by a bounty hunter before this, and got hit with more bullet shrapnel than you'd believe. Somehow he managed to stay alive. Fella was drunker than a skunk though, so I reckon you should take it with a grain of salt."

You stand back with Hosea as Arthur steps towards the uneasy animal. The horse stomps, ears pinned, and Arthur coos to him, hands up in surrender to the animal. 

"That boys' always had a way with animals." Hosea remarks, watching as Arthur calms the shire enough to pet it. His hands meet the dark horse's neck as he shushes. After a few moments, the horse begins to calm. His tail stops swishing, his ears prick to the sides, listening to Arthur and his lip becomes loose. 

"Real good, boy. Now don't go kickin me, I'm just gonna take a look, I ain't gonna hurt ya." Arthur coos, running his hand from the horse's front shoulder down to its hock and pastern. He whistles lightly, pulling his hand back up. 

"Feller weren't lyin'. Legs are covered in old scars. It's a miracle he didn't die from infection or just get put down." Arthur says, patting the horse's croup before backing up, eyeing the horse from a few steps back. 

"He got a name?" Arthur asks, and Hosea shakes his head. 

"No, never given one." Hosea adds.

"Reckon I'll start callin you Balius, you're a strong one." Arthur says, moving back towards the horse and picking up his hoof, checking over the state of it. 

"Balius…?" You ask, not sure why Arthur would have picked that name. It's beautiful,  but foreign to you. 

"Ah, Balius. An immortal horse, a gift from Poseidon." Hosea smiles, looking at Arthur and the horse. 

"Arthur, he's a smart one. Too humble to show it often, I'm afraid." Hosea whispers to you. 

You think back to Boadicea. Arthur must take some interest in history and mythology. You curiously watch him, seeing Arthur in a different light. 

"Okay, I can take him off your hands. Go ahead and ride my Walker to the stables. Just board him there for now, I'll see how this big guy does." Arthur says, pulling an oatcake from his satchel and feeding it to a now calm Balius. 

You glance to the unhitched horses, seeing your buckskin grazing with the other gang member's horses. He's a small thing, not much muscle on him and Colter certainly didn't help that fact. He's a good horse, but not what you need. You need something strong and quick, something younger. 

"I'll join you, Hosea. I've been meaning to get a new ride for a while." 

"I might as well go too, get him checked out by a stable hand. He's gonna need a different saddle. Boadicea's is still down in Blackwater and the saddle on the walker is a piece a' shit." Arthur pipes in. Hosea places a hand on each of your backs as he smiles, leading you towards the unhitched horses. 

"I'm not sticking around, I'm afraid. Once I get this horse I'll be heading back up to ambarino for a hunt. I hear that there's a beast of a bear up there." 

Arthur stops, hands on his belt as he raises an eyebrow. 

"You want help with it? Y'aint so young no more, Hosea." Arthur asks, not wanting to overstep, but worried about Hosea's cough and age. Taking on a bear is hard for someone your age, let alone Hosea's. Hosea hesitates.

"Star's daddy was a gunsmith. Sure she knows her way around what we need and I can track better than you, let us go, as long as the lady wants to." Arthur adds, looking over to you quickly. 

"Alright, suppose some company would do me some good up in the mountains." Hosea nods, glancing behind him at the horses. 

"I reckon me and Arthur get these horses saddled up. I'll have Charles take the rest of your shift. Dear Star, why don't you go pack a bag, we may be away a few nights. Oh and check in with Dutch, he was asking for you. Tell him we're heading out for a day or two." Hosea orders around, and you nod, anxiety pooling in your gut.

"Dutch was askin for you?" Arthur asks, shooting a look at you and then Hosea. You nod, biting your lip.

"Yeah, said he wants to get to know me on a more personal level… Whatever that means." You mumble, and Arthur's face is drawn up in distaste. Without another word, you head towards your tent. 

You wave at Jack on the way, noticing that Abigail and John are fighting again. You feel bad for the boy, caught up in this life. You ignore the hungry cries of the O'driscoll, tied to a tree on the other side of camp. Dutch is a fool for bringing him here. With a sigh, you part the canvas to your tent, drawing the flaps closed behind you. A little wooden box rests on your bedside table, a gift from Tilly after you'd done her a favor. You pick up the wooden box, hand resting in the lid, and yet you hesitate to open it. You know it's not gonna be good, maybe enough change for some canned goods, but not a horse, which you need.

Frustrated, you slam the box down harder than necessary. Your hand grabs an old saddle bag from under your cot, and you move to your wardrobe. 

You don’t have a tent kit, but you do have a bedroll, so you grab it and stuff it into the bag alongside a few pairs of jeans and some underthings. Damningly, you forget to grab your coat, leaving it stuffed in the bottom of your wardrobe. 

Once your bag is packed you can no longer ignore the wooden box that is haunting you. You sit down on your bed, picking it up and holding it in your lap. You pull the lid off, looking down to a measly five dollar bill. It's not chump change, but it won't help you with a horse. It's the last of the money you have from stealing in Tumbleweed. You hope that with the gang you'll never have to live like that again. You were barely making it, never knowing where you were gonna get a meal or sleep. Anytime you needed to purchase something you had to steal. And now here you are, thinking about how in the hell you're going to steal a horse. 

You pluck the bill from the box, fold it over and stick it into your satchel. 

"Can I come in?" A voice says from outside your tent. It's Arthur, and instinctually you smile.

"Sure c'mon." 

Arthur steps through the flap, coming over to your bed. You scooch over and he sits down beside you on your cot. 

"What's the matter?" Arthur asks, taking his hat off and placing it on the cot. You sigh, closing the box and putting it back on your table. 

"I still feel like I'm just runnin." You whisper, noting the double meaning of your words. 

"From what?" Arthur asks, no judgment in his eyes. 

"Everything," You huff, "Myself mostly. My past, my feelings. Just robbing and killing and lying to survive. I'm stuck back in Tumbleweed, Arthur. I have no money, I have nothin' to my name. I need a damn horse before this one up and dies on me but I can't even afford the cheapest one. I'm gonna have to steal a damn horse." You sigh, running your hands through your hair, plucking out the violet and twirling it between your fingers. Arthur rests his hand on your knee, and you look up to his ocean eyes. 

"Star, you got the whole gang now, okay? You don't gotta watch your back now, cause we all got it." You nod, knowing he's right and feeling better for it.

"I'll help ya get a horse, c'mon." Arthur says, patting your knee for good measure before standing up and placing his hat back on. 

"I'm not lettin you buy me a horse." You bite.

"Marybeth caught word of a train job. You come rob with us, n' get your cut, you can pay me back." Arthur says. You know he would never actually ask you to pay him back, he's only offering this to make you feel better.

Arthur extends his hand out to you, and once you take it, he pulls you up to your feet. He grabs your packed bag from the cot, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Alright, go check in with Dutch, I'll get your horse loaded."

Arthur holds the tent flap open for you, and once you exit he files out behind you. You go your separate ways then. Dutch's large tent seems to rise over the others, intimidating you. But you strengthen your resolve, walking towards it with purpose. 

Just as you reach to pull the canvas aside, Molly  pushes through the flap, knocking into you and pushing you to the side.

"I'm not blind, Dutch! I know what you're doing! You won't even TOUCH me anymore because you’re thinkin about her!" Molly yells, and her voice pierces the ears of everyone in camp. She points her finger at him, seething with rage before grunting loudly. 

"You're delusional. Again." Dutch says, rolling his eyes, frustrated. 

Molly flips him the bird before stomping off. Dutch only watches her go with distaste. 

"Sorry, I didn't intend to interru-" 

"Nonsense. I'm sorry. Miss O'shea has been… difficult as of late." Dutch says, clicking his tongue against the room of his mouth. He comes beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder and leading you into his tent. 

"Would I be correct in assuming that you've been avoiding me?" Dutch asks, groaning as he rests down into his chair. Everything about the man is dominating. His stature, his stance, his words. He demands respect, and those who don't give it to him receive a bullet. Naturally, with you being you, you test his boundaries. Arthur trusts Dutch, but he gives you an odd feeling.

"Why would I avoid you?" You chuckle, watching as some of the charisma bleeds from his eyes. He gets off on being frightening, and you've just insulted his resolve.

"Hmm." Dutch squints at you, unsure if you're just ignorant or if you're intentionally pushing his buttons. He grabs a cigar from the pack on his desk, placing it between his lips.

"I only came by to tell you that Hosea, Arthur and I will be off on a job hunting for a few days. They asked me to let you know."  

Dutch nods, holding a match to the candle on his table until it lights before bringing the lit match to his cigar. He makes you wait, lighting the cigar, slowly inhaling and then releasing the breath of air. 

"Okay… I hope you haven't forgotten about our little chat. I've got plans for you. As soon as you return, come see me. We've got a lot to talk about." 

You dip your head in understanding, and turn to exit. 

"And miss?" Dutch calls after you, and you stop, turning on your heels. 

"Hmm?" 

"Do be careful on that hunt. Be a real shame if somethin' scratched up that pretty little face." Dutch says, and your stomach rolls as you exit. 

You try to quell your anger, try to be the bigger person. Dutch is the one person who you cannot piss off. Your tongue gets you in trouble often but you won't let it leave you without a home. You move through camp, Dutch's remark playing through your head. The boys are waiting for you at the hitching posts, and they see your rage from a mile away. 

"Miss Star, what is it?" Hosea asks, checking his girth to make sure it's tight before climbing onto Arthur's horse.

"It's that prick." You snap, finger directed at Dutch's tent. 

"What's the fool gone and done now?" Hosea asks, grabbing the reins and adjusting in the saddle. 

"Dutch? He botherin you?" Arthur asks, glancing between you and Hosea. 

"Oh I can handle it just fine. Miss O'shea don't seem to be handlin' it so well though. Bastard makes her cry and then two seconds later starts tryin' to flirt with me." You growl, climbing into your saddle. You follow Hosea, cantering out of the Overlook. 

"He tried to flirt with you?" Arthur growls. 

"This isn't new for Dutch. He finds something shiny, new, and he wants it. Happened with him and Marybeth too, but I shut that down quick." Hosea yells back. 

"He knows better. I'll have a word with him when we get back." Arthur hisses, disappointed. 

"No. I've got it." You respond. 

"Don't mind him, hard as it may be. Lately he's been nothing but greedy when it comes to women. He's downright disrespectful, demeaning… Annabelle would be ashamed." Hosea shakes his head.

"Annabelle?" You ask, never having heard the name before. You turn in your saddle to look at Arthur. 

"She was Dutch's fiancé. Got killed by Colm O'driscoll." Arthur mutters, an old pain resurfacing. 

"She was a sweet girl. She was good for him, too, and kept him in line. Along with young Arthur over here. He and John were a pair of fools when they were kids. She was always badgerin' them." Hosea chuckles at the memory. 

"Nah, that was mostly Bessie. John used to steal my damn cigarettes all the time. Course that was my fault. God knows little Johnny Marston couldn't do no wrong." Arthur chastises.

"Oh be quiet, Arthur. We all knew you were sneakin them to him. Along with the booze." 

Your eyebrows are pulled together in confusion as the two bicker, and you laugh. 

"Yeah well gettin' the kid drunk was the only way to shut him up." Arthur explains. 

"Wait-" You laugh, "You all knew each other when you were kids?" You ask, trying to piece together the timeline, picturing them all younger.

"We brought Arthur in when he was only a boy, about fifteen if my memory hasn't lost me. Our first stray, our unruly son. For a long while it was just me, Dutch and Arthur. But then I found Bessie and Dutch, his Annabelle, and then eventually we took in John." Hosea explains, trotting over the railroad tracks into the auction yard. 

You can't help but chuckle, the thought of their younger years is a sweet idea. They really are a family, you can see that now 

"How did you end up with them? How did you end up doin' this?" You ask Arthur and then Hosea, spurring your horse.

"I was just a kid, livin' on the streets for a long while, stealin' to get by. The city weren't kind to me. After a few years I decided to get away, take my chances out in the woods. I needed a horse to get away from the city." Arthur explains as you slow your horses, riding towards the livery. Hosea chuckles, and you can't help but smile, wondering where this might be going. 

"So one day I'm sittin' on the sidewalk beggin' for spare change. See these two horses hitched outside the gunsmith, real fine horses. Saw a white one, knew it'd be quick and strong, just what I needed." 

You chuckle, knowing exactly where this is going.

"Get up close to it, no one's lookin' so I throw myself up into the saddle." 

Hosea is smiling brilliantly at the memory, as if he's back in the same setting. 

"That horse threw me faster than you could blink an eye. I'm layin' there on the street like a fool, feelin' sorry for myself when suddenly these angry lookin' outlaws peek over me, lookin' down at me in the mud." 

"And that was where we found him." Hosea laughs. 

You make a note to ask why Arthur was alone at such a young age. Your heart breaks at the idea of him, just a kid, begging for money in the streets. You've heard amongst the laughter of the gang that The Count won't take anyone but Dutch, and Arthur appears to have been the first to test that theory. You trot past the butcher's, making your way towards the stables. Once again, you pass the peculiar one armed man posing as a veteran. You nod to him lightly as you pass, and he smiles in return. 

"We can fill you in on old stories during our trek up the hills. There's a lot of goodones, especially about Arthur here." Hosea chimes, dismounting from Arthur's walker in front of the livery. 

"Great." Arthur says, sarcastically elongating the word.

You slide down from the buckskin, forgoing your eyebrows as you hear commotion on the other side of the closed stable doors. A horse shrieks, whinnying with fear as thumps sound out against the door. 

"Just grab her halter!" A man yells, and the stable doors shake from an apparently hard kick to them.

"I can't! She won't settle, goddamnit she's goin' through!" Another man screams, and suddenly the door cracks and is pushed open. 

A beautiful Palomino mare pushes through the door, terrified and angry. You jump back out of the way with a gasp, almost getting trampled by her. 

"Star, get back!" Arthur yells as the horse rears up, crying out with an ear piercing whinny. 

"I got her!" One of the stable boys yells, swinging a lariat over his head. He releases a coil as the rope flies through the air, landing around the mare's neck. 

The rope only seems to terrify her more, and she drags the poor stable hand who's heels drag in the dirt, trying to pull her in by force. 

You know that there's no way he could possibly force this horse to do anything. She's tall, lean and strong. Her piercing blue eyes are a symbol of her ancestors' spirit. She's a force to be reckoned with, an open flame, you can tell from just a glance. 

"Stop! Stop- you're scarin' her!" You call to the boy with the rope, handing your buckskin's reins to Hosea. You walk towards the spooked mare as she rears, hands placed up to placate her. 

"Be careful, miss, please. She's dangerous. Wasn't taken care of properly by her last owner n' now she don't trust men. Maybe she'll take to you." The man calls. 

You look to her sides, to the scarred over wounds on either side of her stomach where spurs have dug in harshly, and to the sores on her mouth from where a torturous bit has been yanked far too often. 

"Oh you poor girl." You coo, taking a step towards her. 

Arthur shifts behind you, wanting to just grab you and pull you backwards. But he knows by now not to question you. You can handle your own. Still, it doesn't help his anxiety as he glances at Hosea. 

The horse is locked onto you. She has stopped rearing, but she snorts and huffs, prancing and snorting nervously. 

"Drop the rope." You order the boy, but he hesitates, stuttering. 

"I- I can't, I shouldn't. She'll run off again, and my boss-" 

"The lady wasn't askin', now drop the damn rope." Arthur orders from behind you, and your lips crack into a small smile, grateful that he has your back, that he trusts your sometimes insane decisions. 

The kid obliges, immediately dropping it to the ground. Your fingers are crossed, and much to your relief, the mare stays put. 

Her crystal blue eyes are locked onto you, separated only by the thick, long white forelock that covers part of her face. Her golden coat is broken up by a thick white blaze, and she has four tall white stockings. 

"Easy there girl, I'm not gonna hurt ya." You whisper, inching towards her. She stomps her right hoof, ears pinned back. You stand still, waiting for them to pop back up before you continue. 

She has a presence about her, something deeply human about those eyes. There's a sense of understanding in them, a clarity that you find only in the rarest of beasts. 

"She's got that affinity for animals too, huh?" Hosea whispers to Arthur, looking between you and him. 

Hosea notices that Arthur doesn't turn his head, doesn't acknowledge the older man because his eyes are locked onto your back, watching as you approach the mare. Arthur is looking after you with a small smile, a glint in his eyes that Hosea hasn't seen in so long. He doesn't remember the last time he's seen Arthur with so much… life in his eyes.

"She's incredible ain't she?" Arthur whispers back, eyes glued onto you as he speaks. Hosea brings his hand up to Arthur's shoulder, offering it a light squeeze. 

"She sure is, son." 

Oblivious to their conversation, you shush to the horse, calming her down some. No one moves save for you, not wanting to interrupt this moment, lest the mare run off again.

"That's a good girl, see I'm friendly I swear it." You whisper, smiling as the horse stands steady on her feet, ears coming forward curiously towards you. Holding your breath, your fingertips reach out, inches away from her pale nose. She snorts, sniffing at you, gauging your intentions. 

At the same time, you move towards each other, and your fingers brush against her soft coat. At first the mare hesitates, but after a second she leans into your touch. You laugh, petting under her forelock. When you turn around to show Arthur what you've done, you find him sweetly looking over you, eyes bright, proud. 

You gently reach and grab the rope from her neck, using it to lead her back towards the stables.

"I ain't never seen nothing like it miss! She just- she just calmed right down for ya!" The stableboy says excitedly as you lead the mare back inside, followed by Hosea and Arthur with the other horses.

Hosea and Arthut deal with their horses, selling, buying and stabling while you chat with the stable hand. 

"Can I help you with anything? Seein as you helped me out." The young worker asks you as the older one helps Hosea pick out a ride. 

You hold the mare's rope in your hand, scanning down over the other stalls. There's a dappled standardbred, a silver turkoman, a roan nokota, a morgan… nothing that catches your eye. 

You turn back towards the mare at your side, then to the stable boy. 

"I want her." You say, no chance of compromise in your voice. The stablehand looks at you oddly.

"You- you want her? Miss I don't think that's such a good idea, she ain't right in the head!" He explains, but you've found your resolve, and you are going home with this mare, one way or another.

"You turnin' down a customer?" You bite, raising an eyebrow at the boy and purposely drawing his attention to his boss. Surely the owner won't appreciate his hand turning away a paying customer. 

"No! No of course not, ma'am!" 

"That's what I thought. She have papers?" You ask him, and he turns around with a sigh. 

“Yeah she got papers.”

You nod, satisfied with the response.

“She’ll be nine hundred n’ fifty, miss.” The boy says, handing you your papers and your gut sinks. $950?  Quickly coming up with an idea, you smooth your face over with a small smile. 

“I'll take her for fifty.”

The boy laughs, snorting at your attempt at a bargain. 

“We already lost enough money on this horse. You can have her for nine hundred.” 

You squint, eyeing the man up and down. 

“Seventy five.” You bite. 

“I'm sorry lady, that just ain’t happenin’. This is one of the nicest horses we’ve had, and I can’t just hand her to you for nothin.” He says, chuckling as if you’re crazy. 

“You sure about that? This horse nearly killed you.” You lean back on your heels, eyebrows raised, “You said she don’t like men, right? If I walk away now are you even gonna be able to lead her to a stall?”

The boy glances between the horse and you, and the mare pins her ears at him, biting out as if she wants to rip him apart. He sighs loudly, running a hand over his face before looking back to you.

“Four hundred.” He offers you, and you squint, releasing a little of the mare’s lead so her bites and kicks towards the man land a little closer to his face. 

“Two hundred.” You bite, and the man rolls his eyes. 

“Listen, lady, my pa will kill me-” He starts but you interrupt him. Hosea and Arthur have already checked out and boarded their horses, and they watch you with amused chuckles. 

“You’re startin’ to piss me off mister! Would you rather your pa kill you, or this horse? Cause the more you continue to irritate me, the looser this rope gets, and, the lower my offers get. Now, let's try that again. I’ll take her for one hundred.” You bite, leaving go of some more rope and the man has to back up to avoid the mare’s pinned ears and kicks.

“Jesus! Fine, a hundred works. Just, get her away from me.” The boy yells, and you pull her rope back in towards you, calming her down with a very satisfied smirk on your lips. 

Arthur pays the man the hundred dollars, and you switch saddles from your buckskin before stabling the horse. Arthur picks out some carrots for everyone’s new horse’s and before long the three of you are walking out satisfied, with three new rides. You stop outside of the stables as everyone mounts up. Hosea had purchased the turkoman, and now he swings a leg over it with a very satisfied grin. 

“So we all got new rides, eh?” Hosea chuckles, waiting for you and Arthur to mount up.

“It seems so.” Arthur chuckles, watching as you comfort your palomino before getting up into the saddle. She feels nice to ride, got solid feet, and she doesn’t buck or fret. You pat her neck once you’re in the saddle, and then signal to the boys that you’re ready to head out.

“This one should do me good. Got nice bloodlines, a good age.” Hosea says, waiting for Arthur to mount up. 

“What about her? You pick out a name yet?” Arthur asks, pointing lightly towards your horse for a moment. You frown slightly. 

“No. I ain't much good with pickin’ names out truthfully, maybe somethin’ will come to me eventually.” You mumble

“Awe, well ya gotta pick somethin’ out. Horse as fine as that needs a proper name… She’s a spitfire for sure. You gotta find a name that fits her spirit too.” Arthur explains, placing a foot into the saddle and swinging a leg over. You hum, thinking. 

“Well what would you name her, Arthur?” Hosea asks, turning his horse around to butt in a little. 

“Oh, I don’t know, I was just thinkin-”

“C’mon, what would you pick? Tell me.”You interrupt his ramblings and Arthur looks down at his saddle horn. 

“I guess I’d call her Athena. War, wisdom, beauty, sure seems to fit her description.” Arthur says, looking the mare over. Hosea smiles a bit, as do you because you can’t believe he’s hidden this apparent interest in mythology from you. First Balius, now Athena? He’s so complex, you smile.

“Athena” You test out the name, liking the way it rolls off your tongue, and even the mare’s ears prick up when you say it. 

“Athena it is…” You whisper, smiling as you lean to pet the mare's neck. Arthur chuckles, watching the two of you. 

“We best be on our way then, by the time we get up there it’ll be good huntin’ hours.” Hosea calls out, trotting up the road. You and Arthur follow after him, making a triangle formation up the main road. You all pass the building that's half built, and you notice they’ve made some more progress, as wooden beams stick up, framing the roof. There's a ‘coming soon!’ sign plastered out front. 

“Say what are they building there, anyway?” You ask, watching as the workers carry cut beams and tools. 

“A blacksmith I hear, some real peculiar feller. They say he's real… imaginative. Sounds to me like he’d be better off in a city, but he liked the ‘quaintness’ of Valentine.” Hosea pipes up from ahead. 

“He’s… imaginative?” You ask, unsure of the creative limits to Blacksmithing of all things.

“They say he makes decorations, jewelry, all kinds of peculiar trinkets and the like. Alongside regular stuff, of course. He makes tools, and the odd bits are more of a side gig.” Hosea explains, trotting around the bend past the sheriff’s office. 

“Strange…” You mumble, glancing back at the building one last time before it disappears behind the sheriff's office. 

“Where exactly we headin’?” Arthur asks, spurring Balius into a canter now that you’re all out of town. 

“A little stead, called O'Creagh’s run. Beautiful hunting up there, but it’s a bit far.”

“Let’s ride, then.” Arthur responds, and you all push your horses into a gallop. You use vocal cues, not wanting to touch Athena’s sides with your spurs. She responds well, and within no time you’re all galloping back up north. 

— — — — 

A few long hours later you finally arrive. O’Creagh’s run is a beautiful little place, with wildflowers, grassy hills and a glass-clear pond with massive fish swimming through it. As you ride past, you see a man in a boat, fishing over the waters. 

“Just a bit further, we can leave the horses up ahead off the road.” Hosea says, veering from the road and trotting up a small hill. Big boulders stick out of the ground in places, and you maneuver Athena around them. 

Hosea leads you to a little opening, and he slides down from his horse. 

“Why don’t you grab that gun? And whatever bullets you see fit. We’ll let dear Arthur here shoot the bastard.” Hosea chuckles, pulling out a map and looking it over for a few moments before nodding. 

“Alright this is the place to start lookin.” Hosea says as you pull the springfield rifle from your saddle, loading it with express bullets.

“And what exactly are we lookin’ for?” You ask, never having hunted before. 

“Bear shit, tracks, fur, blood, anythin’ really.” Arthur answers, patting Balius before coming towards you.

You nod, falling into step with Arthur as you both follow Hosea. The three of you walk around for a long while, scanning the ground, slowly inching around. You see nothing but rocks, grass, leaves, and sticks. Arthur has noticed that you sigh loudly every few minutes, kicking a rock or a stick out of your way as you grumpily walk around in search of anything.

“Arthur, this is boring as hell.” You whisper out of earshot from Hosea. Arthur chuckles lightly, rubbing at his stubble.

“You won’t be sayin’ that when there's a half ton beast comin’ at you.”

“If we ever find it that is.” You huff, crossing your arms as you follow the men. After a few minutes, Hosea stops, waving you both to come over. 

“Bear dung here, fresh.” Hosea explains, looking over the pile. 

“Never thought I’d be glad to hear it…” You mumble under your breath. 

“How close you think, Arthur?” Hosea asks, looking up to the younger man. 

“I reckon he ain’t far. See a few tracks here,” Arthur points in the direction of the disturbed trail. “They disappear up here, it splits off into two trails.” 

You look at the two trails. One wraps around the side of the hill, and the other continues through a valley. You’re tired of standing around, walking slow  and looking at bear shit, so you nod, walking through the valley. 

“Where you goin?” Arthur asks, gesturing to you with furrowed brows. You turn around, slowly walking backwards to yell at him. 

“Goin’ to find this thing!” You holler back, and Arthur sighs, telling Hosea to go with you while he searches the other trail. 

You wait for Hosea to catch up to you, chuckling as Arthur stomps up the hill in the other direction. 

“I don't mean to question your thought process, but what's your plan if we do come across this bear?” Hosea asks as you pull your rifle around into your hands. 

“Well I guess I’ll shoot it. N’ if that don’t work, you go get Arthur, or we run, I don’t know.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders lightly, “Wasn’t this your idea?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah but now that we’re actually here, I’m wondering if this was a bad idea.” Hosea huffs, and you crack a smile. 

You walk the trail for a while, not really seeing much for about ten minutes. Just as you're about to turn around you see something on the grass up ahead. You jog up to it, crouching to the ground. 

"Hosea, I found a fish! He's eaten most of it, he can't be far now." You chime, looking at the fresh blood and teeth marks. 

"Uh, Star?" Hosea calls your attention, barely over a whisper. Slowly, you turn around. 

Hosea is standing facing away from you, frozen in a statue-like stance. About forty feet down the trail stands the largest bear you've ever seen in your life. Its face is scarred, an eye is missing. On all fours this bear is as tall as you, and your breath hitches in your throat. 

"Don't move." Hosea whispers, as the bear inches forward. You can't help it, fear taking over as you stand up from your crouch. 

You take a step backwards, and your boot squishes right down onto the fish. The slip surprises you. Instinctually, you gasp, pulling your foot back away quickly with a yelp. 

The bear's ears prick forward at your noise and motion, and he roars, spit flying from his mouth as he charges. 

"Oh SHIT!" You scream as the bear charges straight forward. Quickly, you pull your rifle around and fire. You hit the bear in the leg, and then in the shoulder, and you curse your shaking hands. The bear charges for Hosea, but as you continue trying to shoot it, it switches direction, coming straight for you. You gasp, pumping bullets into it, missing some, hitting random areas and grazing it in others. It will not go down.

You cry out as the bear gets closer, firing once again before it runs into you, a paw against your chest as it knocks you to the ground. Your rifle is knocked away from your hands, and lies uselessly far away in the dirt. Your heart pumps rapidly as the bear roars in your face, ready to tear you to pieces. 

You quickly reach down, unsheathing your knife as the bear's claws against your chest push down painstakingly. Your ribs ache from the impact of hitting the ground so hard, but you can do nothing about it as you plunge your knife into the bear's chest. It yelps, snarling and growling as you pull the knife out, sinking it back in until the bear falls to the ground at your side with a yelp. 

You pant, chest rising and falling rapidly as you lay on the ground. Your eyes slip closed as you drop the knife to the ground. 

"Am I dead?" You whisper, peaking an eye open, relieved to see the setting sun. 

"Oh my God, Star, are you alright?" Hosea calls out from his position backed against a tree on the ground. You ask yourself the same question, noticing that it hurts when you breathe, your ribs ache and there are some scratches against your collarbone where the bear had dug his claws in, but other than that you're okay. 

"Think so." You hum, just as Arthur approaches, sprinting down the grassy patch. 

"What in the hell happened?" Arthur yells, glancing between you and Hosea and the bear, dead at your side. 

"We found the bear." You whisper, placing a hand over your ribcage and hissing. 

"The bear found us." Hosea corrects, standing up from the ground with a sigh. 

"I'm sorry dear girl. I wouldn't have brought you up here if I would have known." Hosea says, feeling guilty. 

Arthur comes over to the grass where you are lying, and he sits down beside you. 

"You alright?" He asks, seeing where a deep patch of blood soaks through your shirt. It's not yours, but he's sure you're hurting somewhere. 

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just let me lay here for a minute n' feel sorry for myself." You whisper, breath coming down from its heightened pace as you slip your eyes closed. 

"I'm afraid my age seemed to have slipped me. I ain't as young as I used to be and it shows. I'm shaken up beyond repair, think I'll return to camp to lick my wounds." Hosea chuckles, "You folks comin' with?" He asks. 

Arthur glances down at you, noticing the way you cling to your ribs. You shouldn't be riding, it's probably best that you rest for the night.

"We'll set up camp here, be back in the mornin'. She should just rest for now." Arthur responds, and you're relieved for it. A few hours' ride home does not sound fun, and besides, you packed a bag in case. 

"Okay." Hosea smiles, "I'll see you kids then, be safe." 

Then Hosea directs his attention to Arthur. 

"Take care of her, son." 

With that, Hosea leaves, whistling for his new horse and trotting off into the night with it. Once he's out of the trees, Arthur looks to you. 

"C'mon, I'll set us up a camp. Looks like that storms finally comin' in." 

You think back to what Charles had said about the rain, and peek up to the evening sky, colored with black clouds. 

Arthur pulls you to your feet and you groan, before he whistles for the horses. 

"I'll get you settled then get that bear." Arthur hums and you nod. 

Arthur starts a little fire a ways away, getting it set up with his percolator and an iron cooker. Once it's set up nicely, he goes back to skin the bear. You grab your bag from Athena, rolling out your little bedroll on the grass before sitting down on it criss-crossed. The night is cold, and you dig through your bag searching for your coat. 

You groan, realizing that you must have forgotten it at home. Rain starts to drip down quietly, just a sprinkle, but it's enough to chill you to the bones as you bring your knees up to your chin. 

"Why ain't you got a coat on? You're shiverin'." Arthur points out, walking back toward you with a pelt and a bundle of bagged meat in his hands. His eyebrows are drawn together as he comes forward.

"I forgot it." 

Arthur chuckles, setting his things on the ground beside the fire before going towards Balius.

"Course ya did." He chuckles pulling something from his saddlebag before coming up behind you. You crane your neck up to look at him as he drapes a coat over your shoulders. It's tan with a warm wool interior, it's warm, and you wrap it around your body as tight as you can, shivering. 

The coat is so big on you, it swallows you up, and you relish in the warmth. But the most intriguing aspect of it is the scent. The coat smells just like Arthur, like gunsmoke and tobacco and something else so indescribably him that you dig your frozen nose into the fabric. 

"Don't you got a tent…?" Arthur asks kindly, worried over you. He places a few cuts of bear meat over the cooker on the fire, eying you as he does. 

"Hm hm" You mumble, shaking your head no. 

"Why didn't you say somethin'? Here let me put mine up, you can sleep in there for the night." Arthur says, checking to make sure the bear meat won't burn before he starts gathering the materials to build your tent. 

"Why don't you change into a fresh pair of clothes. Your shirts covered in blood, that can't be helpin' your chill. N' you can check for any cuts that need bandaged up." Arthur suggests, down on one knee across the fire, stabbing the beam supports into the wet soil. 

"I ain't just gonna strip down right here. Especially not with you right here." You point out. Arthur stands up, tying together the posts. 

"Get changed. You're freezin' to death n' you're worried about a gaze when we're in the middle of nowhere." Arthur chuckles, shaking his head at your stubbornness. You look down at your ruined clothes, blood spattered across your torso from stabbing the bear in the heart whilst he was right over you. 

"Fine but you better not peek." You say, standing up and walking over towards Athena.

"Star-" Arthur sighs, laughing, "I ain't gonna peek." 

"Good. Cause if you do peek I'll have to kill ya," You smile. "No man's ever laid eyes on me indecent before, and that sure as hell ain't changin' now." You mumble, not even thinking about your words. Arthur however, stiffens, hands stilling where they were pulling the canvas over his tent. His shoulders tighten and he swallows thickly. No man…? Ever…? 

He coughs, awkwardly. 

"Alright well, uh. Hurry up." He mumbles, putting all of his focus onto the tent and forcing himself not to turn around. 

You take his coat off, letting it fall to the grass. Arthur counts the pieces of clothing as they fall, flinching each time a new piece hits the ground. It seems to be forever until you're undressed, but eventually you stand naked in the night. You're facing away from eachother. And if he did turn around, he would be met with your exposed backside… but he won't. He's a gentleman and he's made a promise that he intends to keep. 

You stand bare facing Athena, digging through your saddlebag as a slight panic starts to creep up your neck. The rain has picked up, coating you in a cold, yet glistening wet. You dig through the bag, realizing that you hadn't brought a shirt. You were so worried about Dutch and money that you didn't bring the most basic of necessities. You shiver, covering your breasts with your hands. 

"Arthur…?" You ask, sounding so coy and small, it's foreign to your ears. 

"Everything okay? You decent?" Arthur asks, swallowing thickly.  

"No! No, I didn't… I didn't bring a shirt." You say, quietly. 

"Oh… Go ahead n' take one from my bag. It'll swallow you up, but be better than nothing." Arthur answers, finishing the tent as the rain picks up. He makes an obvious attempt not to look at you as he turns around, grabbing the meat from the fire and taking it into the tent. 

"Just come in here when you're ready." He hollers from inside. 

You go over to Balius, leaning up on your tiptoes to reach into the shire's bag. Your fingers brush against a soft cloth, and you pull out a neatly folded jade green shirt. It's long sleeved, it'll be warm and it smells like him. You smile, pulling it over your bare body. The shirt comes down to your mid thighs, and the top buttons are undone three holes down, leaving a little of your chest exposed, including three scratches from the bear along your collarbone. You frown at it, pulling his coat back on before reaching for your undergarments and sliding them up your legs. 

Your jeans are destroyed, muddied and caked in fur and blood. You don't bother to put them on, knowing they're garbage. Instead you opt to just wear the shirt. It covers you enough, and you prefer sleeping without pants anyways. 

You grab your saddlebag, running through the rain until you break through the tent flap, finally escaping the cold water.

"Jesus, cold huh?" Arthur laughs at the way you've barreled into the place. He has turned the whole floor into a bed, as there's not much room. The two bedrolls beside each other take up the whole floor. Arthur sits up, two plates in his hand, and he holds one out to you.

"Frozen." You whisper, sitting on your knees and wrapping Arthur's coat further around you before taking the plate from him. He's cooked up the bear, seasoning it with some oregano and thyme, and you smile for it. 

"Maybe if you were wearing pants, ya wouldn't be so cold." Arthur chuckles, forcing his eyes away from the glistening rain on your thighs. 

"Yeah well I don't want to." You bite, getting an idea, "Oh! Arthur, I brought rolls!" You chime, digging through your saddlebag until you find the little dinner rolls. You hand him one, and he lifts it up in a little toast. 

"Thanks, look, we're havin' a proper dinner." Arthur chuckles. 

"Yeah for once." 

You eat and chat, enjoying each other's company for a long while. The rain on the tent roof is comforting, and the thunder that usually frightens you doesn't seem so bad now that you're with him. After you've both had your fill, he puts the plates away. You're still shivering, and Arthur's too big shirt slips down over your shoulder. 

His eyes flicker to your exposed shoulder, and you go to pull the cloth back up but he knocks your hand away. 

"You didn't tell me he scratched you." Arthur mumbles, eyes flickering up to your own as you shrug your shoulder away from his touch, covering it again. 

"Just a scratch." You whisper, looking down to the sore wound. 

Arthur slides forward, chest towards yours, so close that your knees touch.

"Let me salve it." He whispers, and you look up to his crystal blue-green eyes. 

"It aint a big deal, Ar-"

"Please." He urges, eyes locked onto yours as you nod your head lightly. 

He reaches into his bag, pulling out the same little tin of poultice that he'd used on your thigh in Colter.

"I use this on you far too much. You oughta be more careful." Arthur whispers, and his breath floats down to your skin, warming you and causing a chill to run over you at the same time. 

He gently takes the collar of your shirt, well his shirt, and pulls it down to expose more of your chest and collarbone. You shiver, not from the cold, as he runs his finger alongside the scratch with feather-like lightness. 

"Steady." Arthur chuckles, a sound you're familiar with and he applies some salve to your cut. It's so intimate, another thing that's becoming familiar with Arthur, which terrifies you.

To calm your anxieties, you instinctually trace your fingers over the scar on your right thigh. Arthur notices, and he brushes your fingers away from your leg gently. 

"Still botherin' you?" He whispers against your skin. You shake your head, ignoring the way his fingers rest on your thigh. 

"N-no, just a habit I guess." You stutter, rendered speechless. Artgur focuses his attention back to your collarbone, neatly covering it with the poultice.

His lip quirks halfway up in a smile before he continues. 

"Didn't know if you was gonna make it down here after Colter. Thought that fever was gonna do you in." He mumbles, thinking about all that you’ve overcome. Your eyes are downcast, watching as his hand applies the salve to your scrapes. He finishes with your collarbone, and closes the tin up. 

“I didn’t know if any of us were makin’ it down from Colter.” You admit, watching as Arthur pulls the shirt back up over your shoulder. 

“I'm worried about Lenny,” Arthur sighs, “wherever he and Micah ended up. And I hope Sean is safe for now till we can get to him.” 

You nod, thinking about Sean stuck down in Blackwater. 

“Yeah, me too. Javiers’ down there with Josiah now. Charles should be heading down in a day or two to help him scope out the town.” You whisper, sighing before tying your hair up and lying down on your bedroll. Arthur hums, watching as you turn towards him on your side, curled up in a ball inside his coat. He chuckles, lying down on his own bedroll beside yours. He lies on his back, hands on his chest, thinking. You’re shivering still, even with his coat. Arthur takes his hat off, fully laying back while keeping an eye on you. He notices that your eyes are far away, your breathing slow and concentrated.

“Caught up in that head again. Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” Arthur asks, crossing his ankles as he intertwines his fingers over his stomach. You hum with a sad smile, drawn out of your stupor by his words.

“My parents… My past.” You admit, pressing one hand against the ground and propping your head up with the other. 

“After I shot that creditor I thought I’d never stop runnin from the law. There was so much blood on me, I thought I’d never wash it off.” You whisper, sighing and biting your lip to stop it from trembling. Arthur turns onto his side, mirroring you by propping his head up so you can talk face to face.

“I guess I haven’t yet. I still got blood on my hands.” You frown. Arthur nods, looking down at the space between the two of you. 

“Was he the only man you killed before joinin’ us?” Arthur asks, and your lip trembles. 

“No… After I left, I was nothing. Just a shell of a person, cared for nothin’, for no one. I was so damn angry. I killed bounty hunters, lawmen. I killed-” You choke on a sob, shoving it back, “I killed people that hurt me, n’ people who tried to hurt me.”

Arthur doesn’t speak, listening to your story. He wants to know how you’ve become so hurt, so afraid of feeling.

“God, my parents would be disappointed if they could see me now.” You chuckle, humorlessly. Arthur’s eyes slip shut with some pain, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your eye with his thumb. 

“Now Star, that ain’t true.” Arthur coos, heart breaking at your tears.

“Oh, it is. My daddy was anyway, when he was alive. You’d never come across a stricter man, in his later years anyway. Didn’t let me get away with or try nothin.” You huff, “Didn’t stop me from tryin’ though.” 

The wind howls outside, and you shove yourself tighter into your coat.

“Tell me about em.” Arthur asks, and you’re surprised by his curiosity, furrowing your brow, but continuing nonetheless. 

“They were in love, truest love you’d ever see.” You smile, and Arthur sees the sparkle in your eyes while recounting your childhood. “I was their only kid, their little miracle.” 

Arthur’s eyebrows pull together, and you rush to explain. 

“You see, the doctor said momma couldn’t have children n’ that's why she started callin’ me Star. She wished on em’ every night for a baby… Here I am.” You say, smiling sweetly and toying with the blanket of the bedroll. Arthur concludes that you’re right. You are a miracle. You had to have been made from some divine intervention, you're too perfect to be otherwise.

“She was feistier than me, even. I know where I got it from. N’ daddy was grounded, level headed and smart. They kept each other balanced. It was all near perfect… till momma got sick that is.” You mumble, looking up to Arthur. He’s smiling down at you, a warmth in his eyes that is piecing together the background of who you are. You blush, realizing that you’ve explained everything about yourself, and asked him nothing. 

“What about you?” You ask, “What was your childhood like?”

Immediately Arthur’s smile falters, and he lies back on his back, sighing. You’re afraid that you’ve overstepped, or upset him, but after a moment he opens up. 

“Nothin’ good.” He mumbles, a dark edge to his words. You leave yourself as an open ear, ready to offer him the same comfort that he’s provided you. You want to know about his parents, his life. Hell, you want to know everything about him, as long as he’s comfortable telling you. He has so many layers, so many contradictions.  You’re curious as to where they’ve all derived from.

“Momma died when I was just a kid, smallpox. After she passed it was just me and daddy. He was a cruel bastard, the type who enjoyed the pain he caused. See, I was more of his punchin’ bag than his kid. He made me steal for him, made me kill for him. I knew what would happen if I didn’t listen to him. Not that it mattered, nothin’ pleased him.” Arthur sighs, running his hand over his face. 

“Don’t talk about him much…” He whispers, afraid by how much he’s just opened up to you, afraid you’ll push him away. 

“Arthur, I’m so sorry.” You whisper, hand resting on his forearm. You want to say more  but what else can you say?

“Daddy was never kind, never good. He hurt my momma too, even when she was sick. My momma was good. She deserved so much better than that piece of shit. I wanted to protect her so badly. Was just a kid, n’ I wanted to kill him, Star. I saw what he did to her and…” Arthur’s fist clenches involuntarily, “I wanted to kill him.”

You’re at a loss for words, shocked and aching for the trauma he must have gone through. And just being a kid, he never felt sorry for himself. He just wanted to protect her. It speaks volumes about his personality, and you see pieces of that hurting little boy in Arthur today. 

“I ran away once, few months after she passed.” Arthur admits, looking up at the ceiling of the tent. 

“Just a boy, only eight or so. I didn’t get real far. He found me, made sure I never ran away again. He knocked some teeth out, just baby ones.” Arthur adds, as if that somehow makes it better, “even broke one of my goddamn ribs.”

“Arthur–” You interject, tears pooling in your eyes. He offers you a little smile, letting you know that he’s okay to continue. 

“I never ran away again, not till I saw him swing. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw me standin’ at the gallows, knowin’ I wasn’t gonna do anythin’ to stop it.” 

Tears slip down your cheeks, and you want to hug him, to hold him, to do anything to take this pain away from him. 

“I walked up to the gallows when it was over, picked his hat up from the mud. I wear it to remind myself who not to be… I know it's in me, I got his blood, his rage.” 

You glance to Arthur's hat on the ground, seeing the meaning behind it. For the first time since he’s started talking, Arthur looks at you. There are unshed tears in his eyes, ones that you wish you could wipe away. 

“How can you look at your wife, your boy, and wanna hurt them?” He asks, searching your eyes for some answer that you cannot provide. He inhales, forcing those tears back.

“He was a sick man,” Arthur growls, an anger coming over him, “I never would have hurt my son, Star. Not ever.” He hisses, and you sit up on your bedroll, eyebrows pulled together. 

“...Your son?” You ask, and Arthur curses, head in his hands.

You cross your legs, looking to him with no judgment, only worry. 

“Yeah, I had a boy… Isaac was his name.” Arthur starts, eyes slipping shut. He wants to tell you, wants to explain everything, but it's too much.

“Can we-” Arthur sighs, looking up to you with so much pain in his eyes that your heart shatters. 

“Can we just lay here for a bit? I wanna tell you everything, I do, but it's a lot, all at-” Arthur rambles, voice quiet. He stops when your hand finds its place on top of his own. 

“It’s alright, Arthur.” You say, sincerely. And you take his hands, pulling him up to a sitting position. To his surprise, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his head to rest on your good shoulder in a hug. 

“S’okay.” You whisper against his hair as Arthur snakes his hands around your waist. 

“I'm so sorry, Arthur. You didn’t deserve any of that pain.” You reassure him, but he brushes it off. 

“I was alright. All over now-” 

“Don’t. Don’t downplay your pain, it doesn’t work. I should know.” You whisper. 

You both stay like that for a while, neither onr of you wanting to pull away. Arthur is feeling more vulnerable than ever, but he trusts you more than anyone. He knows you’ll keep this between the two of you. 

"You're nothin' like him, Arthur. Nothing." You whisper, and Arthut nods, finally hearing the words that he's needed to hear for so long. 

After a few more minutes, Arthur pulls away, resting down on the bedrolls and patting the space beside him. He's just a little closer to your side than he was before. He wants to thank you, to explain that you've helped him in so many ways, saved his soul time and again, broken down the walls around his heart, but he's not sure how. 

You smile as you lie down next to him, soothed by the rain. Your hands are in between each other, resting on the blankets. After a while your heart beats faster, feeling his fingers brush against your own. Slowly, as if testing the waters, his hand moves closer to yours, until you both mutually intertwine your fingers. You smile as he runs this thumb over your knuckles. You’re the first to fall asleep, but even then, Arthur doesn’t pull away. The two of you are wholly comforted by each other's presence, just not quite sure how to show it.

— — — — 

The next day, you arrive back at camp feeling better. There's a weight off of your shoulders, having cracked away another one of your layers before Arthur. He feels relieved and more afraid all the same. He had told you more in one night than he’s told anyone. Even Hosea. Still, he doesn’t regret it. He’s glad to know that some of the dark conversation is over, and he can breathe a little easier now that it’s no longer weighing on him. As you dismount, hitching Athena, Arthur moves past you, tapping your arm with a little nod. You smile, just taking the mare’s saddle off as a loud voice calls to you from the otherside of camp. 

“You’re back!” Dutch hollers, arms outstretched as wide as the smile on his face. You turn to him, still wearing Arthur’s shirt alongside your old jeans. Dutch doesn’t miss this, and his eyes glance from you to Arthur in his tent, wondering exactly what you and Arthur got up to on your getaway. 

“I am.” You say with a sigh. 

“Good, now come with me.” Dutch says, and you know there's no room for argument as he leads you through camp to his oversized, white tent.

“What's this about Dutch?” You ask, irritated, as he holds the canvas up for you to walk under his arm into his tent. He enters after you, sitting down in his chair, propping a leg up on a wooden crate. 

“Everyone seems to be saying good things about you…” Dutch hums, looking over your body, sizing you up, to see where he can best play you like a damn chest piece. 

“That’s… good?” You somewhat ask, completely unsure of where he’s going with this. He leans back, the front feet of his chair tipping up into the air as he squints at you. 

“Why haven't you been on a job yet? A real one?” He asks, and you scoff. 

“I was on a job, with Arthur and Hosea, but you kinda threw a hitch in that plan when you blew up a goddamn boat.” You bite, harsher than expected. His tongue darts out over his lips, dark eyes scanning you over. 

“Marybeth got word of a train, sneaking through Lemoyne in the dead of the night- filled with rich passengers. It’ll be cruisin through virtually unprotected.” Dutch emphasizes the last word, a dangerous glint of power in his eyes as they flick up to you. He seems to have pieced together where he wants you, he's found a play for you to work for him.

“I want you there.” He says, pointing at you, at your brows pull together. 

“Alright…” 

“A lot of these boys- they’re good boys- they can shoot, and they can steal. But you? You’re a schemer, a player. I can see it in those eyes. You’re like me, like Hosea. We could use your head out there.” Dutch speaks as if his plan is coming together. 

“And I’ll get a cut?” You ask, making sure this isn’t charity work. 

“Of course.” Dutch responds. You nod, thinking it over. 

“Alright, whens it comin’ by?” You ask, and Dutch smiles at your eager attitude. 

“Few weeks. Talk with John and Arthur. Come up with a plan, do as you see fit.” He explains, and you nod, moving towards the exit. 

“Oh and miss?” Dutch calls after you, and you turn around. 

“Do make me proud. I'm not a man you want to cross.” Dutch warns, and you crack a smile, nodding at his attempt to frighten you. 

“Sure thing, Dutch.” You respond, and he sticks his tongue in his cheek, looking over you.

“That attitude. I would say it's not ladylike, but I've always been attracted to women with spitfire like yours.” Dutch says, voice almost as low as the glint in his eyes. You bite your tongue for a moment, adjusting your weight to your other foot, and cock your head.

“Molly know you’re sayin’ things like that, Dutch?" You hiss, and Dutch’s smile falters. His stare becomes menacing. 

“Molly and I are done-” He starts, and much to his growing rage, you interrupt him. 

“Yeah I can see why.” You snap at him. His face turns red with anger as he stands up, and the chair scrapes loudly from how quickly he gets out of it. He comes straight up to you, towering over you, but you don’t back up. 

“Excuse me? Do you know who you’re talking to?” Dutch growls, and you only smile sweetly, looking up to him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dutch. I thought you liked women with ‘spitfire’ like mine.” You hum, watching as he steps back, shocked and insulted. You chuckle, parting the canvas of the tent. 

Causing the gang leader to hate you is probably not a great idea, but you can’t help it. He needs to be humbled by someone. And it's funny. He sits on his high horse, in his castle-sized tent, ordering everyone around while reading, listening to music and smoking cigars. You laugh at the contradiction in his philosophy. He is exactly what he swears to destroy: an overseer, a power hungry fool. Satisfied with your little victory over Dutch, you settle in your tent, pulling out your journal. 

It's been a busy few days. Got a new horse, Arthur calls her Athena. She is something special, by god. Beautiful Palomino, eyes blue as the sky. Took her up with Arthur and Hosea to catch a bear, but it nearly caught me first. Arthur and I stayed up there the night, it was real special. We talked a lot. He said things I'm sure he's never said before, and so did I. It was nice, having someone to talk to. I worry for him. There's so much pain in his heart, so much ache, old and deep. I hope that one day he can move on from it all, start anew. I guess I wish the same thing for me too…

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you

[warningsine]

A plea to stop talking about films and TV shows in corporatespeak.

In 1887, the Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh completed the first in his series of still life paintings that go by the name Sunflowers. A year later, he’d finish the second of the two series.

When he did so, the paintings became regarded over time as spectacular pieces of art. That said, it’s hard not to imagine if he presented said work today, there’d be someone in a decent suit somewhere who would congratulate him on his work, sign his freelance invoice, and leave him to fend for himself. They wouldn’t be pictures. They’d be creative collateral, or an impressive paint/canvas interface. Or, shudder: they’d be content.

That word, after all, is permeating. It’s infecting lots of areas of life, movies and TV in particular.

Netflix, for instance, doesn’t say is has a large collection of films and TV shows to choose from. It has “an extensive global content library”. Disney boss Bob Iger, when contrasting the difference between his incoming Disney+ service and Netflix told Vanity Fair that “what Netflix is doing is making content to support a platform, we’re making content to tell great stories”.

Content. When have we allowed this word to take such hold. People working for magazines and website now don’t write articles or write reviews. They create “content”. People seem to be making fewer and fewer films, and more and more “content”. If you make several films, then congratulations: you’re making “greater volume”, not ‘more movies’.

It’s little secret that Hollywood and the movies underwent changes as the 70s went into the 80s. That studios that were once run by traditional moguls who were invested in the movies found themselves increasingly part of global conglomerates who wanted a movie studio on their asset books. The filmmakers were being taken away from the top jobs, in favour of big business executives.

That’s where we are today, and the cliché is that movie executives as a consequence are less interested in movies than ever before. Certainly the days of a filmmaker heading up a major studio – as director Joe Roth did with Disney as recently as the late 90s – look set never to return.

But there are movie executives who clearly love films, even if lots of them give the perception that they seem to have to spend half their time in Excel spreadsheets. That notwithstanding, there are movie executives fighting for stories and projects they believe in every single day. It’s easy to overlook that.

Yet still, there’s a corporate culture that’s firmly seeped into the world of film. That, in turn, has brought corporate language with it, and I think this is a backwards step.

When did it become not just respectful, but the norm, to describe a film or TV show as a piece of content? Where did a term enter the lexicon that’s so reductive to what’s being made? You may think it’s pretentious twaddle to describe even massive blockbuster films as art, but I’d content they are. They’re labours of love for someone, and they’re being reduced to business doublespeak on a press release.

Looking to this winter, would anyone dare call Martin Scorsese’s new film, The Irishman, a piece of digital content? You’d think not. But then Netflix’s umbrella – as per its own corporatespeak – is just that. A library of content. Not a library of films and TV shows.

Director Brad Bird’s Twitter bio explains that “I love all the arts, but I love movies most because they combine so many of them”. That’s not a man who’s making a piece of content. He’s making a film, that combines the talents of many people, to turn it into a story that he and those involved hope will be watched and enjoyed. I’ve heard filmmakers and writers use the word ‘content’ to describe their work when they’re making a cutting point. I’ve met few who believe that’s actually what they’re making.

Enough now. I have no power in the world, I accept that. But imagine going to an art gallery, and the advert promising you ‘compelling analogue content’, with no irony or twist to it at all? That’s just what we’re doing with screen entertainment now, and I think it all deserves better.

I do accept, of course, that there are very real problems in the world, and I fully accept the material in this short piece isn’t that high up the list. But still, just to be on the safe side I Googled ‘people who say literally when they mean figuratively’ and that threw up 14 million results.

I figure one person fighting against the word ‘content’ won’t hurt. Hence, this. I thank you for reading.

#sponsored by: my disgust whenever i hear people say 'content' instead of 'art' #also filed under: 'media consumption' #cinema #tv

[athetos]

This got very long so you absolutely do not have to publish it… I just want you to know that you are seen, and there are others out there who understand what you’re going through 💜 That sort of grief is a very weird feeling. You feel helpless, but also the feeling of loss feels weird? You feel like you aren’t entitled to it somehow, but you are. You’re allowed to feel it. Even if it’s complicated or even if it feels like you’re not grieving the loss so much as feeling pain for the people in your family.

My grandfather passed back in 2018 after a short but rough battle with cancer, while I was doing a semester abroad. It would have been insane for me to try to fly home for the funeral. Like $1000 minimum. The majority of my life my grandparents lived halfway across the country out in Texas, and I hardly ever saw him, but he was still family (technically my mom’s step-dad), even if he was rather old school and that side of the family rather bigoted. But I sent flowers for the funeral, and that helped me feel like I was doing something. They were more for my grandmother than anyone else. And I baked a Dutch apple pie, because it was his favorite and his nickname was ‘Dutch’ because he was from the Netherlands.

So, my advice is to let yourself feel, and know that you are allowed it. Grief is so fucking weird already, and complicated more by feelings of guilt or being conflicted. Try not to get swallowed by the feeling. If you can, channel it into something else. Maybe celebrate the parts of her that you liked, or embrace a favorite memory. Check in with people you do have a positive relationship with, especially those feeling this loss, and let them know that they are loved. Sometimes doing something makes you feel less helpless.

The weird feeling doesn’t last forever. The empty, broken feeling does heal. It’s messy and complicated, but it will get better. Take a breath, and know that you will be fine, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now 💜

Thank you anon this actually brought tears to my eyes and I will try to follow your advice, this means a lot to me ❤️

I think the flowers idea is really good because yeah I’m trying not to think too far ahead I want to stay focused on just what I have to worry about on a day to day basis to relieve stuff but I don’t know how they’re doing the funeral, if I’ll be able to visit, etc like with money and timing but I want to do something so even if I can’t go I can order flowers because I think I remembered what ones she liked

I do have a lot of very fond memories of my grandma from growing up even if we weren’t close the past 10 years I can remember she encouraged me to read so much and would always let me borrow books or buy them for me, she got me into redwall and I read every book except for maybe 2 of them, she’d get me 3 at a time off eBay and get more when I finished them, I remember reading the first book at a cousins graduation party and getting so into it and realizing what an adder was (a snake) and stuff, very good memories. I remember watching Winnie the Pooh in her living room. I remember swimming in her pool with my brother and catching fish off the bottom. She taught me how to swim! It was so scary but I did it, and it’s my favorite thing to do. She had a garden and would let me eat snap peas and tomatoes and cucumbers. We’d go for walks in the woods on the trail and she’d point out birds. She did an Easter egg hunt that was over her entire yard and house and my brother and I were the youngest grandchildren so we got to find the most. She’d make turkey stuffed with rice for thanksgiving and homemade pies. And they made their own wine and while I’m not a big wine fan I always tasted it. She was also the computer lab advisor in elementary school and she taught me how to type, too. Our middle and high school was connected to the elementary school, so as I got older she’d let me come to the lab during my study halls so I could write original stories and make things on polyvore. She also put together the elementary yearbook and would out a pic of us at the end with her, and my other cousins. And I don’t realize until now how many things I love I learned to love from her. The books, especially fantasy, I’ve always been so fond of and she probably started that and kindled that. I was on my high school yearbook club thing and took photos and did layouts. As I said I love swimming and enjoying nature.

I love her and I still do, and I hope she knows that. It just feels so far away and distant. I’m sure it will hit me eventually. But I’m trying to disconnect my love for her from my anger towards my father. I think just by living I will honor her every day because she has become part of me and helped make me who I am today. Sincerely thank you so much anon this genuinely is making me feel a lot better. I’m still in a depressive episode and idk how long it will last but I can breathe a bit easier about this for now I think.

#insert coins to continue

[rubyflowerpetals]

Luxembourg trip 21/07/23-31/07/23

I went to visit Chloé in Luxembourg and my time there was so lovely! I met her family, two of her friends and Arabella (my love). I have promised her mom and Chloé herself that I will come back, so I guess my fate is sealed.

day 1 - travel

On the first day we didn't do anything too active. Chloé picked me up in Maastricht and it was surprisingly normal to see her driving a car! Then we had a two hour drive to Hellange, where I met her dad and Arabella. We had to go outside to the garden so she wouldn't be too scared of me. I think it went well! Her parents went out to a restaurant so we had some pasta for dinner and just had a chill evening. I didn't sleep too well, but that was expected, I don't usually sleep well with other people in the room. It was kind of awkward at the start simply because we just didn't have a lot to talk about, but that's alright.

day 2 - Barbie

On day two we went to see Barbie! It was such a good movie and even though we sat right at the back, it was still a very enjoyable cinema experience! It was lovely to watch a movie with all the seats filled, because it created a very nice atmosphere. After the movie we walked around a bit, we went to Auchen and looked at their book section and then we went to have dinner. I had been feeling a little bit nauseous for the past couple of days and it wasn't too nice, but I dealt with it. We had to take public transport to get to the city and it was good! Their trams look quite similar to the new trams in Riga. Before the movie, we went through her old school's campus and a park. It was really nice

day 3 - mini golf

The weather started to get worse (and then never became truly better afterwards), but we went out to a park. We bought a baguette and some hummus for lunch and then played some mini golf. I finally started to feel more comfortable and less on edge! Chloé won with 92 points against my 107 points, but we had a very wonderful game. She still scored the highest with 17 points for one hole (or whatever the language for golfing is). There were also Dutch scouts there which was a bit jarring, but no bother. After mini golf, we sat on a bench for an hour from which we saw a lady walking an animal. But for the life of us, we couldn't tell what sort of animal it was. We asked Chloé's mom at dinner and it turns out it's just an old dog... It didn't Really look like a dog, but whatever. Our guesses were a pig or a rabbit, but also neither really worked. In the evening, we watched Juno and it is still such a good movie!!

day 4 - animal park

After walking the dog and going to see the neighbours' cat like every morning, we went to an animal park. It was clearly made for children, but it was still a very cool place. Chloé told me about a lot of her childhood memories which was lovely. I became obsessed with truth or dare questions after the previous day of sitting on the bench and going through a randomiser. I felt very annoying, but in a nice way. The park was nice and Chloé bought me some ice cream too! It was a shame that she didn't feel too good that day. In the evening, Trine asked me how the "gaycation" was going... it was going great!

day 5 - chill day at home

Chloé needed one day to rest so we stayed home mostly. We walked Arabella, baked some peach cobbler and sat on our computers for most of it. It was a succesful day.

day 6 - Luxembourg city

On the sixth day we went back to the city, but it was a wednesday, so it wasn't as crowded as when we went before Barbie on saturday. Chloé took on the role of a tour guide and did a great job! It's such a pretty city. We walked through the upper city first and there were a lot of pretty buildings and stuff and then we also went to the lower city. That was also beautiful (the first picture is from there). We went to see an amazing bridge. We saw two blue herons (Chloé's favourite birds) and I stole a little lavender flower which smelled absolutely wonderful! We had also gotten boba and mine tasted vaguely like soap, but I didn't mind. We also went to an art exposition about queer joy and it was so cool! I have a bunch of pictures on instagram from that day.

day 7 - museum and friends

On day seven we went to the city center by train where we met up with two of Chloé's friends (Emma and Sophie) to go to an art museum. It had an exhibition from a Luxembourgish artist and it all looked really cool! We went through the rest of the museum too and it wasn't too great, but also there were some cool things. Her friends were really nice and they tried talking to me, which was sweet of them. But for some reason I just got compeltely covered with fear and anxiety and my brain was completely empty, no words or thoughts were forming so I couldn't think of anything to say. Even when I did think of something, I couldn't find a good spot to say it in because I didn't want to interrupt anyone. And then at a certain point I had been silent for so long that I think that physically I couldn't have said anything even if I tried. But if you forget about that, I really did have a good time. Though, as I already told Trine, this day made me even more scared to tell Chloé anything, because I feel like I made a very bad impression with her friends, and that really matters to me. Which... I'm saying that as if at any point there was an actual possibility of me revealing anything to her before. But no. After we left the train to go to her house, I felt so drained and tired, but Chloé was really good about it. Back at her place, we laid on the bed and I slowly recharged. Turns out that having her there is really helpful. Being alone when I feel like that doesn't sound good anymore. I hope I'll get to be around her more often. But after that whole thing, I was left completely drained the rest of the day.

day 8 - Oppenheimer

The next day we went to see Oppenheimer at the fancy art house cinema that Chloé really likes. The guy sitting in front of us was asleep for a big part of the movie. But men's opinion doesn't matter, because it was actually a really nice movie!! I didn't understand a lot of the plot because it was just so American, but the shots were cool. And omg the sound design was amazing!!! The complete and utter silence after the bomb went off.. and then the blinding boom.. and the stomping feet - the subjectivity part was just amazing!!! Very well made movie in a technical sense. After that, we went to the city to walk around a bit and then went home and had dinner. Her parents had gone to the restaurant again, but after they came back, they gave me a present of a souvenir teddy bear and a luxembourgish flag pen! I almost cried.. and I did get very warm all over. I'm such a fan of her mom!! She is so lovely. We also watched the first two episodes of the new season of Good Omens!!

day 9 - forest

We wanted to go out into nature so we went to a forest track. But after a while we got a little bit lost, but we continued following the zig-zaggy running path. In the end it took us 2 hours to do the whole thing. We had been tired since 40 minutes after the beginning. Around an hour of walking it also started to rain which was just the cherry on top. But it wasn't too bad, it was actually kind of funny. Not even only while looking back, but also when it was happening. Then we went home and watched two more episodes of Good Omens.

day 10 - cars and trains

For the longest time we didn't have a plan for the last day, but then on tiktok Chloé found out about an old car exhibition in a city that she had never been to. So we went there. For lunch we had a very Luxembourgish sausage in a bun and it was so very good! Apparently I got the full Luxembourgish experience - the sausage, the middle aged men, the orange tables. It was lovely. The cars were amazing as well! There were so many cool ones. After the cars, I vaguely peer-pressured Chloé into getting matching limited edition custom-made car t-shirts. I think they are both very cute and very ugly. I only peer-pressured her, because I felt like she really wanted one. After the car show, we went to see an old mine and steam trains. It was a very cool looking train even though the steps look just like the ones on Latvian trains. We shared a cherry cake. And then very thick steam that smelled horrible came out of the train so we ran away. It was a lot of walking. After that we went home quite early, had some sushi for dinner with her parents. This was my first time eating vegetarian sushi and it was very good. And then we finished Good Omens!! What a season... We went to sleep around 2am because that was our last full day together.

day 11 - leaving

We had to wake up extra early today so that the travelling wouldn't be too late. For breakfast we had some especially good pain au chocolat. Chloé's mom very nicely drove us to Maastricht. I took a little speed nap while we were in Belgium. Her mom made me some lunch (two sandwiches and a chocolate pudding) and every time I ate something, I teared up a little. Chloé came with me to the train, but I don't think I said the best goodbye, because I was stressed about the train. I wish I had given her a longer hug, but we'll see each other in just two weeks. We'll survive.

I think I've cried six times today. I am very tired and probably shouldn't have spent an hour writing this whole thing, but here we are. Tomorrow my family is chelping me move. I am very scared that I won't like it in my new place. I desperately need it to be good. Ida is coming back on the 10th and she's gonna stay the night at my place before moving the next day. I might help her with stuff. I'm excited for the stress to be over in two days hopefully. I need to be able to relax competely. I was able to do that while in Luxembourg which was amazing!!! I had such a good time, and I promised two people that I will go back at some point, so I guess I have no choice but to do that.

Ok well, I don't know how long I will keep up this "blog", but I like writing down my feelings and having intentions and stuff, so I'll try to keep it up!

Ttyl <3

[lan-xichens]

I have questions for the props department—

#advance bravely #why is he holding a dutch book #like. how did that get there #what #a dutch book on bird watching no less.... #heerlijk hoe ik nu kan ontdekken wie hier ook nederlands is

[kewpiemeayo]

Dating Gojo & Getō (Chaotic H/Cs)

As it says... @catxsara had to put up previewing these in her DMs :-)

CW: Polyship Gojo x Reader x Getō, wholesome!Getō, use of first names.

Satoru was the one who asked you out first, or so he claims but he asked you out rather nonchalantly so you took it for face value and assumed it was just a hangout.

Suguru had to sit you down and properly and explain their proposal of a polyamorous relationship and that Satoru was in fact not the only one interested in you.

Satoru gets too salty by this claim so you and Suguru just had to suck it up and nod along whenever Satoru went about telling everyone about your relationship.

Dating the sorcerers were one thing, living with them was another thing entirely; roughly inspired by this photoset.

Gojo Satoru seems like he's got class because in public he composes himself enough but in private or with close friends, he's a menace.

🤢 Will scratch his butt in front of you, making it very obvious he's doing so. 🤢 Will pick his nose and probably flick his boogies on the floor or leave them on nearby surfaces with talk of getting rid of them later, but never does. 🤢 Will sit next to you only to fart and dip, but if he's feeling extra menacing, will sit on you with his full weight to prevent you from leaving his wrath as he holds his own breath. 🤢 Probably dutch-ovens you too. Suguru used to be on the receiving end of this, but he learned all the tells so now he conspires with Satoru to hold down the other end of the blanket. On occasion, he'll "rescue" you or "avenge your honour".

Suguru would offer to shower with you—sometimes he just hops in uninvited—and will continuously lather more body wash on you as you finish rinsing making you 2xs more pruney and wrinkled when you finally leave the bathroom because it takes you forever to clean off >:(

“I’m just making sure you’re extra clean.” “Stop, I’m trying to shower and leave in time for work.” “Not with that stank you not.” “WHAT STANK?!?”

Satoru leaves the minimal amount left in a container for you to find because he’s too lazy to sort/throw it out himself. This includes but is not limited to a barely acceptable sip of milk in a carton, the smallest slice of cake in the box, a tiny glob of face wash or moisturizer in the bottle or a spoonful of ice cream in the tub.

Suguru “makes you coffee” but 1 hr too early since he wakes up and lives life like an early bird so your coffee is always cold and extra bitter.

If this wasn't an idea of your own, Suguru would talk you into helping him swap Satoru's DVDs so the cases and discs don't correspond with each other. If he wanted The Mummy, he's opening the case to find Phantom of the Opera instead.

Seeing as how busy the three of you would get as sorcerers, it was decided that your shared living space would be minimal so that it wouldn't be a chore to clean whenever the three of you did get free time.

With that, Suguru decides to store his books chaotically; binding inward-facing (backwards) so his shelf looks less cluttered but you never know which book you're grabbing :/

Satoru will steal your clothes while you're out and dress himself up to surprise you when you do finally come home. It's infuriating because he's stretched out one of your favourite pairs of pants and damn near ripped your new dress.

If you walk around the house with a blanket draped over your figure, Suguru will start calling you babushka as a term of endearment.

Swallowing curses the way Suguru does can be painful, stressful and kind of gross. You gag sometimes just watching him do it so you and Satoru picked up the habit of finding different ways to make it more enjoyable.

🍡 Dessert-enthusiast Satoru lead this operation with the sweet soy glaze often found on mitarashi dango, dousing the black ball in the sauce before plating it for Geto who actually enjoyed the effort the two of you put it to make his absorption process more manageable. 🍡 There is always a bottle of caramel sauce or chocolate sauce in the fridge in case neither of you had prepped or have the energy to prep the cursed orb for consumption.

You and Suguru have also both painfully snorted water of your noses both in public and in private over the things Satoru would do or say at least once if not twice.

It is just never a dull moment with these two goofballs, evident in the collection of blurry photos and shaky video footage from when the three of you are up to no good but you wouldn't have it any other way.

I want to be with them o(╥﹏╥)o >> Masterlist

#mea.geto #mea.gojo #geto suguru x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader x geto #geto jjk #gojo jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #geto suguru headcanons #gojo satoru hcs #geto suguru hcs #jjk anime #jjk manga #gojo x reader x geto hcs

[starvine]

first date headcanons

attack on titan (modern au)

summary: some first date headcanons with some of the attack on titan characters. 

warnings: none, just fluff :)

eren jaeger: movie 

a little basic but it’s all eren could come up with

besides, it was between a movie and dinner and dinner felt too formal so y’all decided on a movie

he’d let you pick the movie tho

he might argue with you if it’s something stupid and claim that it’s horribly written (as if he knows a thing) but that’s it

eren would make sure to get the BEST snacks. spicy food? check. candy? check. popcorn? check. fruits? check.

he just wants to impress you (even if he did have to confide in his friends for some advice)

he just really likes you

during the movie, you guys would start shifting closer to each other, both a little too timid to move all the way all at once

but you guys would make commentary throughout the movie, laughing when things seem too cliché or when a character says something funny

half way throughout the movie, you guys aren’t even really paying attention it it

you’re too busy throwing popcorn at each other and trying to catch it in your mouths, feeding each other candy, and giggling at each other

it’s intimate in its own relaxed way, which makes eren realize how perfect you are

you both could make the most out of a pretty average first date situation and make it into a beyond amazing first date

and that was all he needed to ask you on a second date before he dropped you off at your car, walking with you to make sure you got there safely

and ngl you’d be a bit of a fool to say no to eren

armin arlert: aquarium 

sweetheart is so nervous 

before he came to your apartment to pick you up for your date, he was a little nervous wreck 

he was fidgeting with his fingers, playing with the buttons on his shirt--he probably accidentally opened one by accident 

but once he saw you, he felt fine 

it was as if he physically melted, you just make everything okay 

once you guys got to the aquarium, he would NOT shut up

he was probably pointing things out, telling you fun facts, asking you what is your favorite marine life 

“oh, you like pufferfish? that’s cool! i like them too. they’re very... puffy.” 

he’s like a child in a candy store 

but while he’s rambling about how the digestive system of a sea cucumber basically cleans the ocean, he’s wondering how he should make a move 

he doesn’t want to scare you off or anything, but he doesn’t want you to be disappointed 

but while you guys are looking at one of those large fish tanks, the ones where you walk through a tunnel, you guys just sort of stand there and watch in awe

or rather armin watches in awe while you look at him, a soft smile gracing his pink lips as his eyes dart across the illustriously blue colored glass

and when he feels your pinky latch onto his, he’s a little shocked that you had made the first move

he didn’t not expect it per say, he just thought that he would be the one to make the first move 

but his overthinking got in the way

and when he turns to look down at your intertwined pinkies, he caught you sending him a delicate smile that made his heart squeeze until he felt as if every part of him was on fire

but it was him who finally held your hand fully 

he just needed you to give him the extra push

mikasa ackerman: book store 

it’s a very calming atmosphere, which is something you’d both need for this first date

mikasa is probably pretty anxious for the first date, and wants to make sure you’re okay and enjoying yourself while also making sure she’s okay and enjoying herself

so the calming scent of the book store and the quietness is perfect for her to multitask between mediating the two

you’d both be tasked with picking each other books and then buying them for each other

so initially mikasa was nervous because she wasn’t sure what to get you but then you asked what she liked to read and so that allowed her to ask the same, making the situation less stressful

and all while you two are walking from isle to isle, eyes scanning the various book titles and covers, she sneaks glances at you and how pretty you look

and the fact that you seem very deep in thought, heavily concentrated on getting her the right book, makes her feel less concerned on whether or not you’d rather be with her or not

the answer is obviously a yes but mikasa has a hard time understanding that sometimes

so when you give her the book you bought for her, making sure to lightly touch her fingers while you hand it to her, she already knows that another date is what she wants you both to have or else she’ll probably explode

and based off of how flushed she looks, the possibility of her exploding is not highly unlikely

you guys will sit at this little table in the corner of the store, reading your books

i can picture mikasa annotating certain lines that remind her of you, making mental notes to show you later

overall, the date is pretty lowkey and very sweet

connie springer: dave + busters/bowling

ok there’s not much of an explanation for this one besides the point that if feels right

like connie is pretty energetic and i feel like you can learn a lot about a person based off of the games they’re drawn to 

hence the arcade

i think connie really likes those racing games or the zombie shooting games

he also claims he’s really good at ski ball (he’s not, he’s trash)

so a good portion of the date consists of you just laughing at him the whole time cuz in all honestly he’s not the best at games but he enjoys them for the fun of them

he’d definitely cheer you on when you were playing or try to mess you up if it was you two against each other

but either way he’d give you a hug or a pat on the head after every game

even if u beat him

he’d probably try to sneak a kiss when you guys were in one of those shooting games that requires a booth and the curtains drawn (does that make sense?)

it’s not really romantic like at all, especially since it smells like a million different people in there, but it’s very low stress so in all honesty that’s what makes the kiss nice

and after you guys had used up all your tokens, you’d combine your tickets and pick something together

your prizes would mostly consist of candy and him insisting he get you a plastic gem ring so you can always remember your first date together

it was also his little, strange way of asking you for a second date

levi ackerman: art museum 

unlike connie, he’s not super energetic

so a museum is right up his alley

levi’s a bit awkward, he doesn’t really know how to talk to you

and especially since you’re lovely, his words jumble together and he gets all flustered

so a nice, quiet museum exhibit is perfect for him

it’s a nice balance between casual and formal, so you both dress nice but aren’t restricted by the need to be super polite and stuff

he’d probably like it when you try to imitate the poses that are shown in the paintings or sculptures

just imagine the soft chuckle he’d be unable to prevent from escaping his lips which then melts into a soft smirk

beautiful, beautiful lad

he probably wouldn’t join you though, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself

he just smiles at you and stares at the art, reading the background info they give on those little plates near them

but he would notice when you stare at him

he could be looking at some art made during the dutch golden age, but as soon as your head slightly tilted in his direction, his cheeks would HEAT up

you almost asked him if he was feeling alright he was so red

but as the date went on, levi really just thought about how much he enjoyed your presence

and he’s not a wicked talkative guy so being able to feel comfortable with someone even if you aren’t talking or doing much is pretty important to him

as the date concludes, levi finally works up the courage to place his hand on your shoulder, asking if there was anything else you wanted to see before the museum closes for the day

his face might be bright red, but the smile you give him makes him feel a little less embarrassed

what can you say, you’ve got charm 💅

hange: the fucking zoo

ok i won’t lie when i got the idea of hange taking you to the zoo for your first date i thought it was so funny and idk why

like they’d be so excited that they’d nearly forget that they’re on a date with you

they’d drag you around from exhibit to exhibit, pointing out the exact breed of tortoise or some really strange fact about the zebras without looking at the little description panel in front of the exhibit

it’s pretty comical

but then randomly, when you guys are sitting down and eating some fries from one of the concession stands, they start going on a rant about animal cruelty and how a lot of zoos don’t treat the animals properly

and you’re just sitting there like “what 🧍‍♀️” cuz they’re mood changed so quickly LMAO

and as soon as their rant started, it finishes and they’re rushing you to the reptile exhibit

they’d probably try to figure out if they could hold one of the snakes

you’d have to drag them out of there before they start harassing one of the workers into letting them hold a snake

they’d also give all of the animals names only to forget them in 2 seconds

“hey, robert, it’s good to see you again!” “hange, i thought you named them dante?” “oh... did i? 😁”

however there’s probably like one animal they absolutely despise and idk why but i feel like it’s parrots

y’all would be walking through this rainforest exhibit, birds flying from tree to tree and the whole time they’re cursing the birds under their breath for no reason at all

just an angry person walking through a rainforest exhibit, cursing out birds

pretty normal if you ask me

however, the date itself is pretty casual and almost feels like you guys are just hanging out

or it would if they didn’t ask you out on another date before dropping you off at home, kissing your cheek as their farewell

pieck finger: café

very simple and quaint

i feel like pieck has a coffee addiction and always puts her in a better mood

so what better place to go on a date then a café?

she’s definitely an iced coffee drinker, and will occasionally go for a hot drink but usually iced coffee is her go-to

and if you get a coffee or tea that she also happens to like, you’re already practically golden in her eyes

since pieck has a very soothing and lowkey nature, i can see the date being much more just like a conversation with someone you’ve known for forever instead of interview-y which is something i’ve found coffee/lunch/dinner dates to be a bit like

but pieck knows how to keep things interesting and she’s a pretty calming person to be around so all is well

i also can’t see her getting super nervous before the date

she seems pretty calm unless in high-stress situations, but even then, she’s pretty level-headed

but since she’s so calm, it makes you wonder if she really cares for the date

and of COURSE she does, she’s so excited about it

it’s just the way pieck is

but as the date continues, she’d probably start to tease you by playing footsies under the table

you gotta keep the date interesting, you know?

you guys would talk about your interests, family, friends, shows you’re watching

literally just anything and everything that’ll allow you guys to get a feel for each other

and if all goes well she’ll definitely suggest another date ;)

also don’t expect to leave without her either writing something cute on your cup, pressing a lip-stick stained kiss to your cheek that matches the one surrounding the rim of her cup, or a promise that your game of footsies will continue next time you see each other

#aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan headcanons #armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager #hange zoe #hange zoe x reader #mikasa ackerman #mikasa ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #connie springer #connie springer x reader #pieck finger x reader #pieck finger #fluff writing

[jinxedpanda4life]

DamiRae Hospital AU?

  No I am not writing one, if I could write well I would though! So here are some HCs for a hospital AU.    If someone decides to write this then I’ll be your first reader. Also I am sort of basing things off of Grey’s Anatomy just a bit and my limited knowledge of the medical field.

- Starts of as 1st year residents, specialties may vary

- The “Titans” are residents and 1st years that show great promise, this doesn’t really play a role its just what people call them behind their backs

- Dr. Kori Anders is a OBGYN (women parts and birth) resident, a year or two away from finishing

- Dr. Richard “Dick” Grayson is is a surgery resident, trained by the hospital owner Bruce Wayne (who is a world renowned surgeon, has awards, etc), specifically general surgery

- Dr. Garfield Logan is pediatrician (kid doctor) res, bonds well with kids, but is considering going back to school to become a vet instead

- Dr. Jaime Reyes is an oncology (cancer doctor), having had cancer as a teen and is now forever trying to rid the world of it, works mostly with kids and teens

- Dr. Jonathan Kent is a physical therapist that works with pain management. Up beat guy and is always trying to brighten his patient’s lives.

- Dr. Damian Wayne is a surgical intern, blood thirsty little thing, hoping to become a neurosurgeon (brain, spine) (or cardiothoracic (heart, lungs) both are competitive)

- Dr. Raven Roth is an anesthesiologist (the drug person that knocks you out) and is starting her surgical internship (she wanted to do more than just help people get high essentially or whatever) has no current preference for any specific surgical field

- Add in characters:

-- Dr. Jason Todd, trauma surgeon (fits too well)

-- Dr. Timothy Drake diagnostician (medical detective basically) 

-- Dr. Donna Troy gynecologist

-- Terra Markov is a nurse (i don’t like Terra but nurses are the actual best)

- Story stuff:

- Damian and Raven meet as they are put under the guidance of the same resident

-Damian has an automatic dislike for Raven because she knows everyone already and is equally, if not much more, knowledgable about surgery, the OR, the ER, protocol, etc  He also thinks she is cold because she rarely shows emotion (pot kettle Damian)

- Raven can always be found in the medical archives researching old cases and studying new ones, Damian stumbles upon her when looking for an old cardiomegaly case (enlarged heart).

- Raven gets along with all of the past ‘Robins’ making her a go to intern

- Garfield can be seen whenever he is not needed trying to flirt with Nurse Markov and often goes to Raven to sulk 

- Damian and Raven are always early to pre-rounds and are typically the first ones there (usually early in the morning, getting there before 500)

- Jon bumps into Damian more often than not and they start becoming friends (Damian is reluctant at first and is still you know Damian about everything), Damian even recommends patients to him 

- Though Damian doesn’t want to really ‘hang out’ with anyone he reluctantly hangs out with the Titans, because of Jon and Dick

            - When in a large group when at a bar, club or whatever Damian tends to stay close to Raven because 1) they actually have things to talk about 2) she isn’t loud

- Raven & Damian are both assigned to a case that is frankly befuddling and have to start spending long nights and early mornings together to figure it out

- Over that period of time they learn things about each other:

-- Raven learns: 

Damian has a dog (Titus) and cat (Alfred) 

He is single (Kori told her) and lives in an apartment close to the hospital

He has lived in various countries

He is trained in multiple martial arts 

He prefers his tea with brown sugar and a slice of lemon 

His eyes are a true emerald color with a ring of gold and flecks scattered within 

He may hide it well but when Raven compliments him he becomes flustered

He speaks to himself in Arabic when he curses, trying to remember something, doesn’t want anyone to know what he is saying

He isn’t always an asshole

When he actually smiles a true and genuine smile, she has heart palpitations

-- Damian learns:

Raven has two tattoos (neither are a bird), a gang tat (she is saving up to get it removed), and a mantra in Azarathian; Azarath Metrion Zinthos

She immigrated from Azarath when she was around 8

Her notes are in Azarathian

She actually feels a lot of emotion and knows how to control them

If she is not reading about a current or past case she is reading any book or file she can get her hands on, he has caught her reading in multiple different languages; Azarathian, English, French, Russian, Arabic, Dutch, Mandarin, (could be more or less)

She lives alone and has a cat, Nevermore, and thanks to Dick he already knew she was single

She likes all tea, no matter how prepared, but prefers the sweetener to be honey

Her hair is black but shines purple, especially under the ER lights

Her eyes are a purple that at first glance look blue, like Elizabeth Taylor, he realizes though her eyes are galaxies on their own 

When she smiles the world actually stops moving, her eyes shine like stars and he never wants the world to start moving again

She always wears a necklace with a gold and ruby ring at all times (it was her mother’s wedding ring)

- When Damian starts having le feelings for Raven he considers actually seeking medical advice as this has never happened to him before

- Raven tries her best to contain her feelings when at work, going so far as one day a month staying home just to scream, cry and feel her feelings

- It does not help that new feelings towards Damian start popping up, especially since he starts bringing her tea and hanging out with her at work

- During the middle of their 2nd year of residency someone holds Raven hostage in the hospital to fix someone that person loves (this person had connections to Trigon and knew who Raven was)

- That was not a fun time for either Damian or Raven; Damian was outside the hospital pacing trying to figure something out with the other Titans trying to calm themselves and him down

- Shots are fired and when all is said and done, Raven gets shot in the abdomen and the hand (she was in ICU for a hot sec)

- Damian seemed to be there every time Raven woke up, he was always checking on her during rounds even though he wasn’t on her case

- Raven did have to have surgery on her hand and in her abdomen (idk where i’m not getting that specific), she hated being, in her words, coddled 

- Even though Raven was right handed (the one that got shot) she learned how to do everything, writing, eating, going to the bathroom, etc. (many of the other residents are impressed since she keeps working on it after her other hand heals)

- Raven’s room also becomes a space for other residents to destress and just vent about their day. She listens and gives advice, all without looking up from whatever she was doing. 

- During this time Raven becomes hooked on Pretty Pretty Pegasus

- Raven’s room is also full of cards, flowers, etc all from fellow staff and some from patients. When she leaves (she spends a couple weeks in thanks to multiple surgeries, recovery, and other minor injuries) all of the gifts litter her apartment, the cards end up in a box by her desk, she presses the flowers, and stuffed animals are donated to children’s shelter (she keeps some that she has grown attached to)

- During this time Damian is more of an ass than usual (people notice and tease him)

- Damian at some points keeps working without breaks/sleep for hours on end. Dick pulls him aside after noticing, scolds and forces him to sleep in one of the on call rooms. (He really wanted him to go home, but Damian wasn’t leaving)

- Once Raven was discharged Damian and Garfield help her back home (clothes + gifts + Raven w/a healing hand/other injuries = need help) the other Titans would have helped but were needed at the hospital

- Garfield leaves after dropping off Raven and Damian (and her stuff) as he is called in on a Peds case (could be fake, may not be) and Raven & Damian spend the rest of the time basically watching terrible movies. (with Nevermore sitting on both of them)

- That is the night Damian realizes that not only does he like Raven, but he like likes her. He starts devising plans on how to get her to date him. 

- All his plans basically are thrown out the window because of one reason or another (he kept overthinking it)(poor guy)

- It is not until their 3rd year of residency that Raven realizes her feelings towards Damian (Have I made it clear she likes him? I can’t remember...)

- She realizes her feelings when she has to crash at his place for a night (because he lives ridiculously close to the hospital, like how expensive is that??) and he tries to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible 

- She never realized how much he cared for her? Like she was always helping him out and there for him but she never realized he reciprocated that care? *Shocker*

- Raven becomes kind of a mess because of all her emotions that she is trying to bottle up. (all the corks are disintegrating and the jar is overflowing)

- Raven is during her Ortho rotation (bone surgeon people, they are cool, ik from experience) that she actually gets a good release for her emotions (setting peoples bones and drilling and hammering in pins is actually therapeutic) 

- Raven thinks that may be the specialty she chooses

- Damian saw her as a mess and could not fathom why she was said mess, he figured it was about a romantic interest after someone made an offhand comment about her love life and she became a blubbering mess (very un-Raven like)

- After all of well *motions with hands* that Raven asks why Damian doesn’t have a s/o or someone

- He says there is only person that he has been meaning to ask out (looks pointedly at Raven)

- All Raven says is “Go for it.”

And that is where my HCs end. Now if anyone who happens upon this post decides to write a Medical AU with any of these please tag me, tell me, message me. 

You do not have to give me credit, I just want to read it. 

This took me a couple of days to write up, so if it is disjointed I apologize. 

If anything needs to be corrected for any reason let me know!

 I hope this fuels some imaginations!

-I may post more HC AU things if they come to mind, we will have to see.

#damirae #damian x raven #demonbirds #teen titans #raven #damian wayne #rachel roth #headcanon #medical au #au

[lykegenia]

Goodnight, Detective

My first foray into Wayhaven fic - featuring a sleepy Leah Kingston and Nate Sewell, who might secretly be realising how much trouble he’s in.

Read it on AO3

--

I yawn as I stumble out of my room. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m still gummy-eyed and off balance, having felt my way to this point more by muscle memory than conscious thought. It’s only when my gaze meets a pool of soft lamplight rather than the expected darkness that my brain catches up to the agreement made the day before, the promise that Unit Bravo could stay with me in my tiny apartment until Murphy is captured. With darkness pressing all around, it feels a lot less of an imposition than three hours ago when I was trying to cook dinner around four vampires with heightened senses and tempers of varying shortness.

“Hey,” I mumble to the agents currently sprawled across my living room furniture. They’ve already noticed my presence and straighten in readiness. Felix grins a welcome, but Nate’s brows crease in worry.

“Leah – uh, Detective.” He coughs. “Is everything alright?”

I wave him away vaguely, not awake enough for talk. “Water.”

Silence falls across us all as I pad to the kitchen, and I try not to let the wriggle of heat in my stomach crawl up my neck. It’s not often people see me so dressed down, in only thin pyjamas with my hair free of its professional Dutch braid. No doubt it’s tangled and sticking up at the back from hours of restless sleep, a birds nest I have to shove my hand through to get it out of my eyes, more aware of the vampires’ gazes – Nate’s gaze – than I’d ever admit.

As a distraction, I pull a glass from the cupboard and take time filling it from the tap, and when I finally turn around and lean against the counter, I’m glad for the breakfast bar that sets a convenient barrier for my self-consciousness in the open-plan space.

“Could’ve sworn there were four of you when I went to bed,” I note after a few deep sips. “What happened to Adam and Mason?”

It’s Nate who replies. “They thought it would be good to set up a perimeter.”

“They were bored,” Felix adds.

“But not you two?”

“Well…” Felix’s expression shifts from guilty to sly as he glances sideways. “Natey isn’t, at least.”

Nate rolls his eyes and shifts his long legs. “I saw you have quite a collection of books.” His lips quirk and my breath stutters, mind flying back to our exchange in the lab that he clearly remembers as well. It’s an effort not to choke on my glass of water.

“See anything you like?” I ask.

“Now that you mention it, I hope you don’t mind me borrowing this?” He holds up the tattered copy of Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn that I’ve had since college, finger slipped between the pages as a bookmark.

I can’t help a smile. “Mi book-casa es su book-casa.”

“That’s terrible!” Felix exclaims, but he slaps his thigh and laughs nonetheless.

“It’s also three a.m.,” I point out. “You want good puns, wait until I’ve had my morning tea.”

My gaze flashes across to Nate, who’s already watching me, amusement and something warmer playing over his handsome features. To avoid embarrassing myself – to squash the sudden flutter in my stomach – I knock back the rest of the glass and turn to pour another, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension in them.

I give another vague wave as I cross the room again. “And on that note, gentlemen…” Out of the corner of my eye I catch movement from Nate’s chair, as if he was about to stand and thought better of it. Instead, there’s a gentle huff of breath that during the day would have been too quiet to hear.

“Goodnight, Detective.”

Our gazes catch again and the automatic response dies on my tongue. I must be tired. Felix clears his throat as I push my hair back again, as if that might lend me some clarity.

“Goodnight,” I manage at last, turning away. “Enjoy the book.”

And from there, it’s a hasty retreat to the dark relief of my room.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #nate sewell #nathaniel sewell #n sewell #nate sewell x detective #nate sewell x f!detective

[everlarkficexchange]

December nights in June

written by @viloula

Rated: M

Prompt 110: AU. Everlark live across from each other in fancy New York (or the like) penthouses. With all those large windows, they see each other daily and know the other’s routine and all he/she does, but they’ve never met. A chance meeting occurs. What will happen? The circumstances of their living arrangements/any backstory and what happens between them is up to you. [submitted by @acpoe82]

Summary: Peeta Mellark may be a successful junior partner at the lawfirm of Finnick Odair, he isn’t a successful partner at all when it comes to love. Every night when he comes home, he watches the lights of New York City, the people on the street… and a mysterious neighbour.

Part II is coming up!

Prologue

When he moved from the small town where he grew up to the big apple, the most fascinating thing about New York were the lights. Where he came from, there were only that many lights in December. Here, every night was like December. Lights everywhere: lights from windows, cars, streetlights. It was years ago when he changed a place where the only noises were the songs of birds to a place were it was never silent. The city that never sleeps.

He got used to the noises. But never to the lights he loved so much. Every night, when he came home from another day at the office, he stood there in front of his large window, watching the street, watching the other windows. He loved the fact that behind every window was another story.

***

January

“Peeta! I changed your appointment with mister Heavensbee to 2 o’clock. There are new files in the Cato/Clove case, and…”

“Good morning Delly,” Peeta smiled. “Thank you. Can I first…”

“I brought you a double espresso.”

“How can I live without you.”

“Not.” Delly Cartwright, his secretary, gave him his double espresso. “Have you seen Finnick?”

“The boss?” Peter grinned. “Think he won’t be there until noon. I’m at my office.”

He walked to his office, holding the warm cup of his favourite drink. His desk was filled with new documents of the Cato/Clove case. It was a law suit he was working on for a couple of weeks. An love affair at a firm between the managing director and an associate, that same managing director being sued by that same associate because she couldn’t finish her internship. It was his task to defend the managing director. A hard task, really. He tried to make arrangements between the parties instead of going to court, but the lawyer of the associate is a woman he knew from law school, Madge. Madge still can’t get over the fact that Peeta always won moot court against her, and also not over the fact that he broke up with her after she cheated. Sometimes, it felt like his life was a soap.

“Mellark! You need to come with me, right now.” Finnick Odair stepped into his office. He did that quite a lot. He always act like it is an emergency, but most of the time it was not. Peeta liked his boss. Although Finnick is a bit, well, Finnick, he is the best lawyer Peeta knew. And Peeta was proud to work for him. Proud to tell people that he was a junior partner of Odair, one of the finest law firms of New York.

“I’m sorry boss, as you can see, I’m busy reading new complaints about my client,” Peeta told him and laughed.

“You come with me now, or we are going to have an love affair.”

“You know, I am not your associate.”

“You were.”

“You missed your chance.”

“You will always be my special associate.”

“Finnick, what are you doing here,” Peeta laughed.

“I need your help.” Finnick sat down in one of Peeta’s chairs, in front of his desk. “I need a pro bono case.”

“Right.” Peeta rolled his eyes. “I need another file of complaints of Madge.”

“I’m serious.”

“Finnick, you never do pro bono cases.”

“That’s why I need you.”

Peeta sighed. “What can I do for you.”

–

Again. Peeta looked at his watch. 11 pm and he just got home. But, he might have found a way to beat Madge, thanks to Finnick.

He threw his leather bag gently against the kitchen wall and took off his coat and shoes. He couldn’t wait for spring and not having to use it anymore. He took off the jacket of his suit and he poured himself a glass of red wine. He loved his job, but his favourite part of the day was coming home.

After moving a lot, last year he was able to buy his apartment. It was a small place to live, big enough for a young man who isn’t home that much. There was a bathroom with plenty of space, a bedroom on the side of the street and a small living room with a comfy couch. There was also a bookcase he build. The bookcase covered almost the whole wall and was filled with many books: from Shakespeare to Alcott, from Reve to Montesquieu. After a whole day of reading files at work, most of the time he was too tired to read when he got home, but when he went on a holiday, he loved to read. 

Peeta’s favourite part of his apartment was his kitchen. The kitchen was in the same room as the living room and he spend a lot of money to have the kitchen of his dreams. During the weekends, he loved to cook and bake. Finnick loved to come over then, especially when he made his famous risotto.

He grew up in a small-town bakery. During his youth, he worked together with his father and two older brothers. He was responsible for the decoration of cakes which he loved to do. When he became older, he thought of going to college and take business classes, so he could take over the bakery from his father. Or well, that was what his mum was trying to convince him for. He was lucky his dad supported him with going to Harvard Law School. When he actually got accepted, his mother turned 180 degrees and she couldn’t stop bragging about her youngest son being a student at Harvard, later being a lawyer.

Like every night, he stood in front of his window, enjoying his glass of wine he thought he had earned today. He opened the window, felt the cold breeze of the late night wind.

On the street, some people were rushing by walking fast. Clearly the kind of people who felt uncomfortable walking in the darkness. He felt the same way when he just moved to New York, but after a few months, he realised there was never actually darkness in the city. You just had to be careful.

His eye fell on a window across the street. There was a woman, also holding a glass. Her hair was long and dark, and her face… he wished he could have seen it from a less big distance.

She was wearing a strapless dress, as if she just got home from a party. She was petite. She was beautiful. He had never seen her, but maybe he didn’t really noticed her window yet, there were so many things to see.

It looked like she looked at him. What colour were her eyes? He couldn’t tell. Could she also see him? He wanted to wave, but that would be weird. She was so stunning, he had never seen someone like her before.

His glass was almost empty. After he drank it up, he took a shower and went to bed when the new day started.

–

When Peeta parked his bicycle, he saw the name partner of the firm walking to the entrance. It was a sunny January day, the sunlight made the curls of Finnick turn into bronze.

“Good morning Finnick,” Peeta said.

“Good morning man. Seriously, still by bike?”

“You can get a man out of Amsterdam, but you can’t get Amsterdam out of the man,” Peeta joked, referring to his interview with Finnick where Finnick thought he was Dutch.

“Good point.” The two lawyers walked into the firm. “So, did you find me a pro bono yesterday?”

“I actually did.” They walked to the elevator, Finnick pressed the ‘11’ button. “You are going to defend a man who will be kicked out of his apartment,” Peeta said.

“A rented apartment?” When the doors opened, they walked to Peeta’s office.

“Yes.” Peeta waved to Delly, who was having a phone call.

“Good, you’re very good with cases like that.”

“That’s true. But then again, is there a case I’m not good at?”

“Madge cases?”

“Ah come on.” Peeta sat down, noticed that Delly brought him his daily double espresso. “But wait, me? I thought you wanted a pro bono.”

“I want a pro bono, but you’re going to fix it.” Finnick stood in front of the huge window in Peeta’s office. Peeta loved the fact that he had a window like that: there was always so much daylight, and at night the lights of the city. Though, he preferred his view at home.

“Finn, I’m not your associate anymore. I have this arrangement to settle with mister Heavens…”

“But you are my best friend and you are also the best social lawyer I know and I need you to do that pro bono.”

“But why? A case with a man being kicked out of his apartment is not that hard to do.”

“I just… I just want to do more pro bono cases in the firm and you are good with people.” Finnick had a strange look on his face. Peeta knew him for almost 10 years and he had never seen that look before.

“There is something you’re not telling me Odair.”

“Don’t make me beg Mellark. I promise I will tell you when the time is there.”

Peeta knew something was going on. “Fine. But what about the merge of mister Heavensbee?”

“Thresh can take it over.” Finnick walked to the door. “Thank you Peeta. You’re not only a good lawyer, you’re also a good friend.”

“It’s fine Finnick. I will see my name on the wall next week.”

Finnick laughed. “Are you making risotto this weekend?”

“Really?” Peeta laughed while he turned on his Macbook. “Fine. I will.”

Finnick gave him a thumps up and left the office. He looked… more happy than usual. There was no time to think about what was going on in Finnick’s head. Peeta looked at the pro bono case, which was at his desk with a post-it note, Delly’s handwriting on it. “Have fun!” she wrote. He smiled. Actually, he didn’t really mind working on a pro bono case. He would rather be the lawyer of someone who truly needs it, instead of being a lawyer for someone who wants to make more money. But in the end, he just loved being a lawyer; helping everyone.

–

10 pm. An hour earlier than yesterday. As usual, Peeta took of his coat and shoes, his jacket from his suit, he poured himself a glass of red wine and walked to his huge window. Immediately, he saw the woman from yesterday. She was talking to the phone and wore something comfy and green.

He didn’t know what it was that took his attention. Was it the way she moved her lips, her body? Her dark hair, her eyes he still didn’t know the colour of?

What is her name, he thought. It must be something unusual, or something really classy. Or both.

He walked to his bookcase, where his vinylplayer was, and put on some music.

“Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night…”

He sat down on his couch. Maybe her name is Rhiannon? He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to stop.

But he couldn’t. All night long, he thought about what her name could be, what she would sound like, what the colour of her eyes were, what she liked to do and what she didn’t like to do. When he lied in his bed and wanted to close his eyes, his thoughts kept him awake. What would she be like? He had a feeling she was special, he didn’t know why. Maybe because he wanted her to be special, maybe because he wants someone special. Maybe he wanted to be special to someone special.

He needed to stop thinking about his beautiful, mysterious neighbour. How long was it ago, the last time he had his heart broken? When will he ever learn… He turned to lay on his back. In front of him, he could still see the hall of his old apartment. That white brick wall, with a picture of a cow and a windmill he got from Finnick as present for becoming a junior partner. It was that moment he noticed it had a crack on the left corner. He could still hear the sound of his fiancés voice, yelling to whoever it was that they could do it at least 10 more times before Peeta gets home.

***

February

January turned into the strange month called February. Peeta was on the road to meet mister Abernathy, his client in the pro bono case. Finnick was proud seeing him travelling to work by car, proud seeing him acting like he lives in New Amsterdam instead of Amsterdam.

While driving, he thought of a strange thing that happened to him this morning. It was the first time these weeks he saw her in the morning. He was up earlier than usual, and when he walked into his kitchen, he saw her. She stood in front of her window, holding a cup, he guessed it must be coffee. She wore something casual, a plaid shirt and jeans. Her hair was in a braid.

She put her cup away and suddenly started to dance, and probably singing, because her lips were moving. Peeta was amazed by what he saw. The way she moved her body was so beautiful yet so sexy. Unfortunately, her dancing wasn’t for a long time. She looked outside her window. She saw him staring.

Peeta started sweating, he took off his glasses, as if then he couldn’t see anymore that she saw him staring. He put them back on, like he realised it was a stupid thing to do.

She smiled and waved at him. He waved back. He wondered if she had the day off. He wondered if he could go to her door, introduce himself, drink something and talk about everything. He looked at his watch and realised it was time to go to work. He looked to her window, she was still standing there, watching him. Peeta grabbed his leather bag, hold it a bit higher so she could see it. Again she waved. He waved back. “Have good day, beautiful,” he said softly.

Peeta parked his car and tried to get his mind back to work. He felt kinda guilty that he had a car of his own, it seemed that this was a kind of neighbourhood where not many people could afford one. After a few minutes, he found the right address and knocked on the door, because there was a post-it note that the doorbell wasn’t properly working.

A blond man in his 50s who smelled like whiskey opened the door. “Are you my saviour?”

Peeta laughed. “I hope so. My name is Peeta, I am your lawyer in the case against your landlord.”

“Well, come in kid.”

Peeta was never called kid before by a client, but he didn’t mind. He had a feeling this wasn’t the last time he was going to be called ‘kid’.

The man walked into his apartment. Peeta went inside, closed the door and followed him. There were a couple of empty bottles, but it looked like mister Abernathy just cleaned the place. The place wasn’t that big, it was a small studio, filled with old, brown furniture. Peeta saw some pictures on the wall, of children in the forest.

“Ah yes,” his client said when he saw Peeta looking at the pictures. “I loved my job.”

“You don’t have a job anymore?” Peeta asked.

“Why else would I drink whiskey during this time of the day?”

“Fair enough,” Peeta said with a laugh. This man was very strange, but in a good way.

“Name is Haymitch,” he said and gave Peeta a hand.

“Peeta,” Peeta said again.

“Not Peter?”

“No.”

“Can I call you Peter?”

“Also, no.” Peeta looked at the pictures again. There 15, maybe 20 pictures hanging on the wall. “What was your job?”

“I was running a summer camp for kids, with outdoor activities and stuff like that. Lost the job because I showed up drunk too much. Now I am going to lose my living place as well.”

“We will see about that,” Peeta said and sat down on a chair. “Tell me your side of the story.”

“Well, I stopped paying my rent.”

“Why did you?”

Haymitch looked at Peeta. “You have a nice suit.”

“Thank you. But why did you stop paying your rent?”

“Because my landlord, mister Snow, is terrorising me. He is making this place a horrible place to live. I have lived here since my wife died 25 years ago. Suddenly, since 2 months I keep finding these cockroaches in my kitchen. I may be an alcoholic, but I am not filthy.”

“And you think your landlord has something to do with it?”

“It must be. I know it.”

Yes, Peeta thought, but you also have to prove it.

–

The raindrops were covering his glasses as he stepped out of the car and ran to his front door. Where the hell were his keys? He searched with his hands in his pockets, finally finding them, in the mean time becoming more wet because of the rain. As if it were a natural move, he looked across the street, looking for his mysterious neighbour he couldn’t stop thinking about during his ride back home. No one in sight. Peeta stepped inside, took the stairs and was finally home. He looked at his watch. 8 pm. He finally had the chance to make dinner instead of eating at the office!

After he changed his suit into sweatpants and a hoodie, he looked what ingredients he had in his kitchen. Not much, he really had to do some grocery shopping soon. Some pasta, there was also pesto. Pasta pesto it was going to be. He felt like he was a student again. He wished he was still a student, at least then he still had time to make dinner for himself every night.

While cutting some tomatoes, he looked out of his window. She was back, folding some laundry now. She was still wearing the same outfit as when he saw her in the morning. He hoped she wouldn’t look at his window right now.

His dinner was ready. When he walked to his kitchen table, he looked out of his window again. She stood there, she was watching him. She waved. He put his plate on the table and waved back.

Maybe one day, he thought. Maybe one day she will be sitting here across me, eating this student meal with me. He would ask her about her day and he would tell her that he is working on a pro bono case, and if she didn’t know what that meant, he would explain it if she wanted to know. He would ask her about everything and he would answer all of her questions if she had any. He would ask her if she wanted some tea or an espresso, or a glass of wine. He would invite her to come over some day in the weekend, promising that there would be self-made cookies.

Again, he rolled his eyes at himself. When will he ever learn. He closed his eyes. He could hear her voice again, yelling at him. “You are always gone, always working! And now you blame me for finding attention?”

“Finding attention?” he shouted back. “Is that what you call the cheating? With my best friend?”

“It was just the attention! You have my heart!”

“You can have it back!” Peeta shouted. “We’re over!”

The months after the break-up,  he felt miserable and a failure. At work, he was successful: he was quite young being a junior partner and he managed to bring lots of new clients to the firm. But he sucked being a partner for a woman he loved: not once, but twice his girlfriend would cheat on him because he was working too much.

He looked at the window again. She was gone. It has been 2 years after his break-up with Glimmer. Maybe his heart wanted to love again. To love and to be loved.

His phone rang. Finnick.

“Boss?”

“Hi, I saw you left earlier today.”

“I did, nothing more left to do.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that. How is the case of mister Abernathy?”

Peeta raised his eyebrow. “Fine. Trying to find evidence.”

“Think you’re going to win?”

“Of course.”

“Can you come to office? I’ve got this case and I really need your thoughts about it.”

Before Peeta could say something, Finnick hung up. Peeta rushed to his bedroom, changing his sweatpants and hoodie for something more suitable.

–

It was Valentinesday and it has been 4 weeks since Peeta saw her for the first time. Now they wave at each other on a daily basis: sometimes also in the morning, but every night. He was looking forward to it actually. He was also looking forward for growing some courage and ringing her doorbell. What is a better day for showing 2 minutes of courage?

“Happy Valentines day love,” Finnick said when Peeta walked into his office. Finnick was wearing a tie with both pink and red stripes. It would look horrible on everyone, but he could pull it off.

“Happy Valentines day to you too,” Peeta laughed. “And, did you…”

“Not here. So, how is the Madge case?”

“Really? Are you asking about my ex on this beautiful day?” Peeta laughed.

“She’s hot tho.”

“Case is going well. Court hearing next week, going to kick ass.”

“That’s my boy. So, plans for tonight?”

Peeta thought of his plan of growing courage and ringing the doorbell of his mysterious, beautiful neighbour.

“You have a plan.” Finnick laughed. “Getting drunk?”

“Yes,” Peeta said quickly.

“You deserve to have real plans though.” Finnick looked at him. “You are a good person. And a good lawyer if you return to your office right now and take a call with Crane Holdings.”

–

8 pm. It is a bit late, but it could’ve been later. But, Peeta thought, if this is the start of something new, I need to learn from my mistakes.

Quickly he changed his clothes into something more casual, he felt like showing up in his suit would be a bit overkill. A jeans and a shirt maybe? Maybe she didn’t want him to come in. He put on a pair of jeans and a green shirt. She had a lot of plants in her apartment, so he figured that she would love the colour green.

He took a deep breath and took his coat. He looked in the mirror. His curls clearly didn’t want to work with him today. He sighed. Grow some courage, he told himself.

Once more, he looked through his window. She was home. She was…

She was naked. She walked to somewhere he didn’t know. He could see her breasts, her bottom, her stomach, her long legs. She wore her hair down. He fantasized about her a lot these days, but he couldn’t dream of her being so beautiful as she actually was.

Am I dreaming? he thought. Maybe she just took a shower. Maybe I should wait. I should stop staring before she sees it.

But then he saw why she was naked. A tall man walked behind her, he grabbed her and kissed her.

Of course she is seeing someone. When will I ever learn? I am such a fool.

His phone rang.

“Boss?”

“I’m so sorry, but are you able to come to office or are you too drunk? It is really important.”

“Nah.” Peeta tried to keep himself together. Why did it hurt him so much? He didn’t know her, hell, he didn’t even know her name, or what her voice sounds like! “I can come.”

Finnick hung up. Peeta looked out of the window once more. She was gone.

–

Days went by. When Peeta walked in his apartment, it was 11 pm as usual. He threw his leather bag gently against the wall, took off his coat and shoes, the jacket of his suit and poured himself a glass of wine. Every night, he was trying to look to the city lights without looking at her. There were so many windows to look at, or cars, or people walking on the street. He tried to just look to those people walking on the street. He tried to read a book. He tried to play some music.

But he couldn’t. She was there every night, and there was something about her. What would she do during daytime? he wondered. Did she have a job? What was her age? What would her hobbies be?

Doing fun stuff with her boyfriend, you fool. Peeta sighed. He really needed to stop watching.

–

**

March

“My hero! You won!” Finnick laughed when Peeta walked into his office. It was already dark outside, the lights of the night shined bright.

“I actually didn’t win, I made an arrangement.”

“An arrangement that lets mister Abernathy keep his place to live! Can I get you something to drink?”

“You can tell me when you let me meet her,” Peeta said and winked. “The woman who made Odair do more pro bono cases.”

“It is for the goodwill of the firm.”

“Yes, of course. And your own.”

“I am one with the firm.”

“You sure are,” Peeta laughed. “But yes, I would love something to drink.”

Finnick poured two glasses of wine for them. “Well, it will be just a matter of time before your name will be next to mine. You are really, really talented. That bluffing, extraordinary.”

Peeta looked outside. No window with her.

“Santé Peet,” Finnick said when he gave Peeta a glass of wine.

–

1 am. Time for a midnight shower, his favourite kind of shower after the 3 am shower. It was a long time ago that he came home from work this late, but he had to admit it was not really work if you talk all night with Finnick, drinking wine.

He closed his eyes when the water washed his body. It has been a couple of weeks, but he still couldn’t stop thinking about how sad he was she was seeing somebody. And he couldn’t stop thinking about how he missed thinking about her without feeling guilty. He couldn’t stop wondering what her name was, how she would sound like, why he was thinking about her all the time. Could it actually be possible to fall in love with somebody you haven’t met? Maybe it was like F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote in the Great Gatsby: maybe it was a tender curiosity. Her smile is so beautiful, she, she is so beautiful, so pure. He had that feeling he couldn’t explain.  It had been so hard, trying not to want to look, trying not to want to think. And here he found himself again thinking about her.

He could feel himself getting hard. For a moment, he thought about touching himself. But it felt wrong.

He turned the water off, dried himself with a towel and put on a boxer short. When he walked to his bedroom, he tried not to look, but he did.

The light was on in her apartment. Was she a night owl?

Then he saw her. He could see she wasn’t at peace, the way she walked seemed restless. It looked like she was yelling.

Peeta put on his glasses and tried to find himself a sweater. When he found one, he looked out of the window again. He could see the man he also saw on Valentines Day and a couple of more times. He was yelling too. Peeta wanted to go to bed, he didn’t want to stare at a fighting couple. But he got a strange feeling about this, this wasn’t just fighting. He could see the man grabbing her arm in a rough way. She tried to get away but she couldn’t.

This didn’t look good at all. She kept yelling and he yelled back. She didn’t look like weak person, but she couldn’t stand a chance. The man was long, tall and strong.

I should really, really go to bed, Peeta thought, but when he looked outside once more, he saw the man raised his hand and hit her in her face.

Oh my god. He is hurting her.

He had to do something. Where were his pants?

She kept on yelling and got another hit. He needed to get her out of there. He grabbed his sweatpants, put on his coat and shoes and took the stairs, to go outside.

When he wanted to cross the street, he saw the tall man leaving the apartment.

Grow courage. He crossed the street and tried to find the right doorbell. He didn’t know her name or what her address was. Why didn’t he think of this?

E.E.L. Trinket, K.V. Everdeen or A. Cresta? It must be around 2 am, he thought.

He pressed the doorbell of A. Cresta. After a while, he heard a voice cracking from the intercom. “Hello?”

I don’t even know the sound of her voice. Crap. But, this woman sounded like she just woke up. It couldn’t be her.

“I’m sorry for waking you up ma’am, I’ve pressed the wrong button,” Peeta said. Then he got an idea. “Do you know the name of your neighbour, with eh, with the braid?”

“Katniss?”

“Thank you so much. Sleep well.” Her name is Katniss. It was, indeed, a special name.

With his heart beating in his throat, he pressed the doorbell. She didn’t open. Maybe she thought it was the tall man, returning.

He pressed the doorbell again. Then, she spoke. Her voice sounded cracked. “You have a key you know.”

“Katniss wait!” Peeta said.

“You’re not Gale. Who are you?”

He imagined the circumstances would be a bit different when he would hear her voice for the first time.

“I’m Peeta. I’m your neighbour.” Fuck, this sounded even more strange than he thought.

“What is my unknown neighbour doing here at 2 am?”

“Checking up on you. Please, open the door for me. I know what happened.”

“Wait, you are him? My neighbour?” the sound of her voice changed into a surprised tone.

“I think I just told…” Peeta heard the sound of the door getting unlocked.

He stepped into the hallway, it looked just like his. She must live on the 6th floor, their windows were on the same height.

He walked the stairs. Thoughts were running through his head, his heart was still beating in his throat. This was the must stupid idea ever. Who would go to a woman you’ve never met at 2 am, because you were staring at her through the window and had a bad feeling?

She didn’t sound mad. And she must have opened the door for some reason.

It was still the most stupid idea ever.

Peeta reached the 6th floor and saw an open door. What am I doing.

“Neighbour?” There she stood. Katniss. Her cheek was still red from the hit she got, but she was without doubt the most beautiful woman Peeta had ever seen. Her eyes were grey, something he had never seen before. She had long, black eyelashes. She was even more beautiful from a less distance.

“Katniss,” he said. “I wanted to check up on you, I saw what happened and…”

“I was planning to go outside actually, I’m sorry.” Peeta noticed the overnight bag next to her and that she was wearing a coat.

“Oh no, don’t be sorry, I’m sorry for coming here at 2 am.”

“Don’t be sorry, you were just worried and you have all right to. Shall we…”

“Yes!” Peeta started walking to the stairs. “Shall I carry your bag?”

Katniss laughed softly and followed him. God, could she even be more beautiful? “No, it’s fine.”

“You seem tired.”

“Most people are tired around this time, you know.” She sighed, and dragged her bag behind her. Peeta wanted to ask her again if he could carry it, but she seemed firm.

“Where are you going to?” he asked instead.

“I wanted to call my sister, but I don’t want to wake her, she has sleeping problems due to her pregnancy, my god why am I telling you this, I don’t even know you. What is your…”

When they almost reached the door, she fell the last three stair treads down to the ground.

“Katniss!” Peeta ran to her. “Can you stand up?”

Katniss tried, but it didn’t seem to go smoothly. She suddenly burst into tears.

“Shhh, come on, let’s get you out of here,” Peeta said. He took her bag and put it over his shoulder. He helped her standing up. “Don’t panic, but I’m going to take you to my place so I can check your ankle.”

She tried to speak, but she was still crying.

“It’s okay, come on.”

With a lot of effort, they crossed the street. The city noises seemed more quiet than usual, the city seemed more darker than usual. Peeta felt a certain kind of calmness, maybe it was because it was needed.

When they reached Peeta’s apartment building, Peeta put the bag on the ground. He wished there was an elevator. He was going to build one if the owner of the building didn’t, he had plenty of money.

“I’m going to carry you upstairs, could you try to climb on my back?”

Katniss didn’t say anything, she just did what he asked. She wasn’t heavy, fortunately.

Come on Peet. Carefully and slowly, he walked the stairs. The more stair treads he had done, the heavier it became. Finally, there was his front door.

Slowly and gently, he let her of his back. He opened his door and guided her to his couch.

“You’re safe. I’m going to get your bag.”

When he turned back, he heard her voice. “Neighbour?”

He turned to her. “Yes?”

“I may not know your name, but can I trust you?”

“You can trust me. I’m Peeta.”

–

When he came back, he saw her sitting on the couch, rubbing her feet. Why is she so beautiful.

“I may have to go see a doctor tomorrow,” Katniss said.

“What about today?” Peeta laughed.

“Oh God, I forgot it is…”

“3 am. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got eh… tea. Water. Coffee, but that’s a bad idea. And wine, but that is also a bad idea, especially for me since I’ve already drank some.” This sounded stupid. “Not that I’m drunk or something…”

“I would like some tea… please.”

“Sure!” Peeta went to his kitchen. The last couple of hours had been so strange. He went to court today, settled an arrangement, drank wine with Finnick, took a midnight shower, saw his mysterious neighbour who appeared to be named Katniss getting hit by her boyfriend, he went outside and now she was here.

He came back with two cups of tea, he hoped she would like chamomile. He also took an icepack from the freezer.

“I hope this helps,” he said and he sat down on the floor, holding it against her ankle.

“Thank you Peeta,” Katniss said. “Man, this is unbelievable.”

Peeta looked at her. Tears were streaming down her face again.

“But we’ve finally met, right? I really liked those moments of waving at you. It became part of my night routine.”

Still tears. “Can you… can you tell me something. My thoughts are…”

“Sure! Ehm… well. You see your mug?”

Katniss looked at her mug. It had a Van Gogh print on it, from the almond blossom painting.

“I bought it in Amsterdam a few years ago. My boss, who is also my best friend, thought during my interview that I was a Dutchman, because of my name and my hair. So, after working for him a few years, and after hearing him joke about it a few years, I took a plane to the Netherlands and went to Amsterdam. It is actually a nice city, I bought the mug in the Van Gogh museum. I want to go back and see more of the country, I’ve heard Rotterdam is pretty cool too and that it’s called Manhattan at the river Maas, so it should feel a bit like home.”

“Europe is great,” Katniss said softly. “Gale… that… that man took me once to Norway, to the forests and mountains…” She became quiet again. She was more quiet than an hour ago. Maybe because it just seemed to hit her, that her life was changed.

“That sounds amazing! Do you like the forests?”

“I love it. It feels like… home.”

“So, how did you come here in New York?”

Tears again. This wasn’t what he wanted. “Oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…”

“No it’s fine, I… It’s just… he cheated on me, I found out and… it all fell down.”

Peeta didn’t know what to say. She kept on talking.

“We were together for 7 years, it wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies… I started doubting about us a long time ago, that’s why I… why we… I didn’t want to be intimate with him anymore, I mean, not really anymore, but less and less and he… sometimes he wanted to and I not and… I think he started looking somewhere else and maybe it was also because I didn’t want to get married yet because of the doubting and…”

Peeta still held the icepack against her ankle. He felt that he wanted to go sit next to her, but his mind told him no, while everything else in his body screamed yes.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you with this,” Katniss sniffed.

“You don’t bother me at all,” Peeta said softly. “Trust me, I know how you feel. My ex cheated on me too.” And the one before. Peeta sighed. “You don’t have to be sorry and you’re not bothering me.”

He looked at her. Her grey eyes were still filled with tears.

“Hey,” he said and then he smiled at her. “You know, I am very curious about you. This is also a part of you, and if you don’t mind, I would really like to know you.”

Softly, she laughed. “Yeah, I think you could say this is also a part of me. There is not much more, actually. I’m a mess.”

“Well, what’s your favourite colour?”

“My favourite colour?” She raised her eyebrows and started thinking. “It’s the middle of the night, and you are asking my favourite colour?”

“I think I am,” Peeta laughed, still holding her ankle. “How is your ankle?”

“The icepack helps, thank you. Oh god, you are sitting on the floor the whole time! You can sit next to me, I mean, ofcourse you can, it’s your couch…”

Peeta laughed and sat down next to her. “You may rest your ankle on the couch if you like. Plenty of space.”

“Thank you.” Katniss put her legs on the couch. “This actually is really comfortable.”

“I’m glad. So, you favourite colour.”

“Right. It’s green.”

“Like the forests in Norway?” He smiled.

“Not in particular, but yes, I like the outdoors and nature. What’s yours?”

“Orange.”

“I can see why your boss thought you were a Dutchman.”

Peeta laughed. “I’ve never thought of it that way! No, it’s not because of The Netherlands. I like the colour of the sky during sunset.”

“That’s beautiful,” Katniss said. “So, you also like nature.”

“I do! There is not much nature here in New York, but I just like watching the skies, it’s like a painting.”

“An artist huh?” Katniss smiled. “I can tell.”

“How?”

“You look like one. But, artists don’t usually wear suits to work. Are you a politician?”

“No…”

“A lawyer?”

“Yes,” Peeta said. “A very passionate lawyer.”

“That’s so impressive. My sister is a doctor.” Katniss looked out of the window. “So strange to see my old place from here.”

“Old place?”

“Yes, I’m leaving it.” She stopped. “It’s Gale’s,” she said softly. “Why did you want to become a lawyer?”

“Well, at high school I discovered I was pretty good with words. I wanted to use that for helping people.”

“That’s beautiful. I’m sure you’re like Mike Ross or something, a pretty good one.”

“Except for that I actually went to law school,” Peeta laughed. “And what about you?”

“Me? I… well… I was starting to… to be a singer.”

“A singer?” She can sing? “That’s so special! I am not asking you to sing for me now, but damn, I am curious.”

“Yeah, Gale works at a bank, and I wanted to become a singer, so that’s why I live in New York and not in a cottage in the woods.”

“That last part doesn’t sound bad at all.” They looked at each other. There was this kind of energy, this kind a feeling that told Peeta she was thinking the same thing.

Katniss and Peeta talked all night. Katniss told him about her father who died when she was young, about her mom and sister, about her performances she did so far and that she liked archery. Peeta talked about his parents and the bakery, his two older brothers, that he liked to bake and read, painting sometimes. He told her about Finnick and his job: a few cases that were extraordinary. She laughed, sometimes she cried. He laughed, sometimes he wanted to hold her. They told each other about what they thought when they saw each other through the window.

Suddenly, Katniss spoke. “Hey, I’m just thinking.”

“Hm?” Peeta said, a bit tired.

“It’s the first day of spring today.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t you just love spring? All those flowers: primroses, dandelions. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.”

And that’s when the sun started to rise.

#Springtime Edition 2020 #viloula #acpoe82 #Prompt 110 #submission

[protectduffy]

christmas headcanons!

merry christmas, if you celebrate it! hope you have a beautiful new year! here are some headcanons for you, including the guys and gals! x

featuring: their favourite holiday activity with you, and what they get you!

Arthur

- activity: horse trail. Arthur takes you on a ride, you sat at the front with your back to his chest, to watch the sun rising over the horizon. He just loves the magic feel of the moment, and the way your breathing soothes him in return.

- gift: he gives you a beautiful sketch he’s been working on, secretly, for quite a while. It’s very detailed and it awes you how much attention he has given to your every scar, freckle, and laugh line.

Charles

- activity: star-gazing. there’s something timeless and romantic about looking at the constellations, especially when you’re lay back with Charles. He points out the stars to you, whispering their names and tracing soft patterns against your skin.

- gift: a pair of soft feather earrings which twirl when the breeze catches them. He made them himself, and gives you the best puppy eyes when you wear them, his expression purely adoring.

John

- activity: drinking. A rather simple holiday activity, but John loves to drink with you. He especially loves tiptoeing past the edge into being slightly drunk, where everything is hilarious for the pair of you and you both end up having a slightly blurred but very amusing night.

- gift: a night away in a hotel. He whisks you off your feet and books you into the Strawberry hotel, somewhere away from camp and the law, in the quaint little town where he can wake up the next morning and tangle up with you in the streaming sunlight.

Javier

- activity: decorating. He loves to remind everyone of the hope that comes with a holiday, and to annoy Micah by stringing up pretty baubles on tree branches or including certain festive herbs in the meals.

- gift: an engraved knife. He saw yours and cringed at the state of the old thing; flimsy and worn down. Javier bought one for you made of the smoothest steel, engraved with a beautiful songbird because you’re his little bird.

Dutch

- activity: dancing. At the end of the night, Dutch loves to pull you close and wordlessly embrace you in a slow dance, listening to his calming music, feeling your rhythmic heart beating.

- gift: jewellery. It might sound tacky, but it’s very sentimental to him. He considered buying you a new piece, but instead he gives you one of his rings on a sturdy, glimmering silver chain. Dutch likes the idea of leaving you with a small piece of him when he’s away, and he can’t tear his eyes away from you when you flaunt around in it, expressing that you’re his.

Hosea

- activity: the morning. Nothing is better for Hosea than waking up to you lay beside him. He always starts such a beautiful morning by stroking your hair, admiring your familiar features, and laying quietly with you as the sun warms your faces.

- gift: horse tack. After a ride together shortly before the holidays, he picked up on your compliments of his beautiful new saddle, a soft beige colour with swirling artworks in the leather. Hosea made sure to get yours custom made with your favourite flowers on the side, and carved his name in the underside, so you’d have that reminder always on hand.

Bill

- activity: food. Holiday food is his favourite thing to receive, because it reminds him of being younger, maybe a more innocent time for him. Besides, he thoroughly enjoys eating way too much with you before proceeding to pass out with one another in a happy heap, processing the meal and the day.

- gift: improved weapons. A bit bashful about gift giving, Bill didn’t want to outright struggle with picking something to buy or make, so instead he took all your most adored weapons and dropped them at a gunsmith. By dawn of the next day, Bill was a little flustered at your gasps of surprise at the state of them; gleaming like new, all with fresh ammunition, the worn parts replaced to be stronger than ever.

Kieran

- activity: gift exchange. He isn’t materialistic, so he doesn’t expect anything for the holidays, but he absolutely adores giving you things. He loves the way you genuinely smile at him, and how you praise him or light up at the gift he presents to you.

- gift: a fishing pole. Silly though it might seem, he loves going fishing with you in unique, quiet spots because that is uniquely your thing together. However, after a few weeks of you sharing a rod, he made you your own fishing pole with a cute little feather attached to the tip, so he can continue to enjoy his time with you and share in the experience even more.

Sean

- activity: singing carols. Usually this is done after a few drinks, but he is just as happy to burst into song fully sober in the middle of camp, midday. It pisses everyone off, but you join in with that mischievous gleam he so loves, and it reminds him how much you have his back no matter what.

- gift: whiskey. Maybe a bit predictable for Sean, but it isn’t just any whiskey, it’s his favourite. An Irish brand, he searched for ages trying to hunt it down for you to try. He can’t give you much, and he doesn’t feel like he has much to give of himself, so getting you something from his homeland felt a lot like sharing his history with you. Plus, he loves drinking with you.

Eagle Flies

- activity: stories. The holiday season always reminds him of ancestors come and gone, of stories passed through generations. Welcoming you into his life includes all these stories, and you both enjoy the intimate moments of sharing intricate stories by the fire.

- gift: a bow. Handmade, of course, from wood both stable enough to hold strong but supple enough to curve into your hands. It fires beautifully, and he likes to compliment you that the pale colour of the wood in your hands is a beautiful scene. 

Albert:

- activity: outfits. A rather silly tradition, but you and Albert each wear a somewhat matching holiday outfit after the one year it happened by coincidence. Now, he insists you both shop for similar and fairly ridiculous holiday clothes, like a hideously coloured vest or a pair of pants with fur lining the waist. It’s basically the equivalent of modern ugly sweaters, and he wears it with pride.

- gift: a photograph. Not of anything he’s taken, nor of nature, but of the pair of you. He was a bit nervous about going in for a photograph as a couple at a proper studio, but Albert longed to give you a gift to keep hold of when he couldn’t be by your side. The first photo was stiff, awkward, and the second much the same. But, oh, the third photograph is just darling - you had whispered something in his ear that made him laugh, and you along with him, just as the camera snapped the scene. It’s a beautiful capture of the two of you embracing in a fit of laughter.

Micah:

- activity: drinking games. Micah loves to show off his skill with some drinking games, but it is also a rather calming thing for him to put his mind to. On the other hand, he very much enjoys watching you let loose, start to let go of your tensions, and truly engage together in a game of cards or something similar.

- gift: a gun belt. Micah always teases you about your weapons and your storage, especially after seeing you struggling to holster your weapons and stash your ammo in your bag or at your hip. Although he’d brush it off as nothing, Micah actually sized you up and had you a proper gun belt made to clip around your hips, with holsters for three guns and two ammunition pouches. Of course, he had to sketch his name in with a knife on the very back, where the belt rests on your butt.

Sadie

- activity: saloon visit. You two enjoy saloon-hopping for the holidays, experiencing very different festive atmospheres and appreciating the seasonal drinks. When it gets very late, you can simply rent out a room and crash together, soaking in the events of the day.

- gift: a lasso. Sadie loves taking you on bounty trips, she likes to see you in action and work together with you (but is always very wary of the fine line where she must keep you safe, at all times). However, your rope snapped on a hunting trip against a straining buck, and she had seen how your face fell in disappointment that you couldn’t use it in any of your upcoming bounty hunts. Sadie is quick to buy you a brand new one, but made of essentially double the strength in a much tighter woven design which holds far better.

Tilly

- activity: chatting. Tilly doesn’t get too much time to slack off when she has chores to do, but around the holidays when things are less tense, she enjoys chatting with you. There’s often little stories you have to share, or gossip, and amusing things you’ve both seen lately. You chat together under a wide oak tree, side by side, enjoying the company.

- gift: a picnic dinner. She isn’t as big on material gifts and wasn’t sure how best to make you smile, so she treated you to a lovely night together in a meadow with the best dishes she could politely force Pearson to rustle up for you two. A bottle of rum was included, and the two of you could end the night laying back, staring up at the stars.

Charlotte:

- activity: cooking. The smell of the herbs and the sizzle of the dishes is so familiar to Charlotte, she loves to share the gift of cooking with you. There isn’t anything quite like the sense of satisfaction when the two of you can step back to admire the beautiful but modest feast you made.

- gift: mittens. It gets really cold in winter when it snows, and when you’re out riding in the cold, Charlotte always winces at the thought. She’s felt your freezing hands against her flushed skin when you’d returned home. She decided to sneakily start knitting a pair of mittens for you, to keep your hands warm. The end product is a little messy, the pattern very all over the place in a jumble of bright coloured wool, but they are snug, warm and sturdy.

Susan

- activity: group time. Susan likes to be more relaxed around the camp on a rare day where things aren’t as hectic as usual. She takes this time to wind down with you, have a quiet chat to other gang members, partake in a dance with you and the others. It’s nice to reaffirm familial bonds.

- gift: a compact mirror. She notices a lot about you, especially when you’re not feeling amazingly confident about your looks on certain days. It always makes her frown in dismay. Susan had the idea to seek out a beautiful hand mirror with a gold handle and frame, engraved with roses on the back. When she gave it to you, she’d written on it in small writing with lipstick, my beautiful darling, always.

Karen

- activity: cuddling. Of course, this is self explanatory. She doesn’t feel she gets enough time to simply hold you close, but the holidays makes her especially cuddly. Anytime, anywhere, she’ll tackle you in a big bear hug and doesn’t care if the embrace lasts long enough to make others uncomfortable.

- gift: a night on the town with herself and you, just as a couple. She buys you drinks, food, trinkets, all sorts to spoil you in Saint Denis. When you’ve both successfully explored every inch of the place and fallen into exhaustion, Karen helps you stumble back to the saloon and collapse onto a springy mattress, right into her waiting arms.

Mary-Beth

- activity: reading. Although she already loves to read, Mary-Beth finds a special enjoyment in reading aloud to you. It calms the pair of you and it offers something unique to share, a story you’re both invested in and want to finish together. Usually those nights are spent with your head in her lap, listening to the soft lulling tone she uses as the reads to you.

- gift: a cheesy chapter about you as the main character, and her as your doe-eyed love interest. She wanted to offer something more personal, so she was working on a lengthy chapter for a while. You star as the main character, the hero, whisking Mary-Beth as your enamoured lover on a short journey. The whole thing is funny and romantic, the ending a little steamy, but it cuts off before anything can get too heated. That’s where you must make the story a reality.

#red dead redemption 2 #reader inserts #headcanons #arthur morgan #javier escuella #john marston #sean macguire #kieran duffy #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #eagle flies #albert mason #charles smith #micah bell #bill williamson #mary-beth gaskill #karen jones #tilly jackson #sadie adler #susan grimshaw #charlotte balfour #x reader #cute #christmas imagines #holiday scenarios

[erascrhead]

November Ice Breaker Tag Game

loI was tagged by the lovely @bnhastanning! I’m sorry this took so long - I’ve been procrastinating all of my work and i had to take care of it before did this but now? watashi ga kita motherbuckets.

November Ice Breaker

1 - What was the last thing you were really excited about? 

Not gonna lie, things are a bit bleak at the moment, but I suppose I was very happy because I did really well on my last lesson test in my Japanese class and I raised my cumulative grade by a whole percentage! I am not very good at it but if I do decently for the rest of term I think I can make my way up to an A-, which would be really cool!

2 - What do you wish someone taught you long ago? 

Don’t be so singularly focused on your goals and responsibilities that everything else is removed from your life. Most of my middle and high school career, I was focused only on achieving what I needed academically and extracurricularly, and pushing myself beyond what I really could handle, that I ended up overworked and lonely. If it puts it into perspective, in my 10th grade year, I not only had multiple people ask me if I had taken a semester away because I had spent so much time hiding in the library, but I literally gave myself an ulcer from stress and taking on other people’s responsibilities because I had painted myself into a position where I was never allowed to refuse. While I did get to achieve beyond what I ever could have dreamed of (and I’m really proud of myself for that), theres a lot of my adolescence that I have a sort of phantom nostalgia for, and that’s something I really regret. 

Your life needs to have balance to it. Make sure you find that early on, and understand how to equally prioritize your own well being with what you want and what other’s want from you.

3 - What are some of your guilty pleasures? 

Not doing the reading for class lmao. As someone who never once skipped the reading until I graduated HS, skipping some of the reading in college, when I end up having around cumulative 500 pages per week is quite nice. I wish I had something less goody-two-shoes but I do nothing and also have zero (0) shame.

4 - What topic could you give a twenty minute presentation on without any preparation? 

There’s a couple of different things I could talk about in differing qualities ranging from classical ballet scores to a linguistic breakdown of a hamilton song, and of course I could go off about bnha for a long time, but I’m gonna go with a fun one.

My most fun answer is that I could talk about racism and race correction in Harry Potter for like three hours. Black Hermione is god tier fanon, and JKR’s attempts to race correct her make me really frustrated, not only with the problems with the action itself, but as well with the nonchalance she attempted to do it with. I have a bit of a ‘cheat’ on this one, because last year I wrote a ~5000 word academic research paper on the subject. I was already really passionate about it before that though (that’s why I wrote it in the first place); the only difference now is I can spit out narrative and numerical facts™ off the cuff, and my argument would be better organized.  

5 - What scene in a movie or tv show gives you goosebumps every time you watch it? 

I don’t really have an answer for this, which is kind of sad but also hilarious considering what my parent’s jobs are. If I had to pick something, I don’t really have a scene in particular, but the movie Amadeus (the extended directors cut edition) is one of my favorites that leaves me breathless in the best of ways. 

6 - What were some of your favorite holiday traditions growing up? 

One of my favorites is that every year since I was little, my mother and I would pick out either 1-3 new ornaments for our tree. I remember being little and walking into the Macy’s Christmas section and just being dazzled by the lights, and typically, we would pick out some white and gold porcelain birds. As I got older, are choices started coming from more small time shops, like a kiosk in hawaii or a small knick-knack shop near the place where we occasionally ski in the winter. For me, it’s really the act of going and picking out something beautiful with her that’s really nice.

A newer tradition is that every year I bake chocolate-chip bread pudding in a dutch oven. I am, unequivocally, the best baker in the family both immediate and extended, though not the best chef, and this became a hit around the time I was 15. It’s just really fun to make -- I like to belt out to Christmas songs while I bake. 

7 - What book had the most significant impact on you? 

HARD QUESTION. There’s a bunch of different ways I could answer this: the impact on the way I think, the first chapter book I read on my own that helped me discover my love of reading, my favorite example of intricate world building? I have a lot I could say. The direction I’m going to go for is the impact on my writing, and the one of the first books that really made me marvel at the beauty of words, just as they are. My two runners up are The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller and We Are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson, but my final answer is Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz.

Representation aspects aside (but also, yes!), this book was one of the first books that made me feel emotion for the words themselves. It’s more of a character study than it is plot driven, and as a kid who grew up loving action adventure fantasy novels, I think that’s one of the reasons it really stood out to me. I pulled an excerpt, just to give the gist:

I stared at the reproduced mural in the book -- but I was more interested in his finger as he tapped the book with approval. That finger had pulled a trigger in a war. That finger had touched my mother in tender ways I did not fully comprehend. I wanted to talk, to say something, to ask questions. But I couldn’t. All the words were stuck in my throat. So I just nodded.

One of my favorite things now is to play with words, to roll them around on my tongue and isolate their melodies, placing them in them in rhythm to a beat only I can hear, and I think that this was the first book that showed me how to do that.

8 - What weird thing do you have nostalgia for? 

So I went to a small school for all the way up until college; about 45 kids in my sixth grade class, 22ish in my homeroom/main class. There were four kids, including me, that had an aptitude for math, and understood the lessons without being taught them, and so what my teacher would do is give us the homework packet for the week and send us out to the outdoor benches next to our classroom to complete it during the period. We, being 11, would goof around Monday through Thursday and do the entire packet in the Friday period and then turn it in. Not the best teaching decision (i wish i had been taught the next year’s material tbh) but that’s not the point.

It was just a year, but those periods felt so untouchable and surreal and innocent. I remember, the school was so quiet, and it was just us, and we were just kids who were getting away with not learning math for a whole year, and it felt like the greatest victory in the world. 

9 - What's a problem you have, that might be entirely unique to you? 

I don’t know how unique it is, but the intensity with which I currently need to pet a dog is unparalleled.

10 - What are two of your favorite snacks? 

I literally eat an apple with peanut butter on a daily basis I cannot emphasize this enough i am, a slut, for peanut butter. 

There’s also this specific Costco Brand trail mix that I literally have eaten so much of that I got nauseous. We love Kirkland Signature™ up in this house.

That’s all! I’m tagging @kicheetah @teamstevesass @stark-tony @bakugox @rabbitproduce @pixie-witchery @joeytrlbiani @queenangst THOUGH NO PRESSURE and also anyone else who wants to! Have fun!!

#literally feel no pressure to do this!!!!! #i have a BUNCH of new moots and i want to learn about them!!! how was your day dears!?!!? i want you to feel validated!!! #and i want to catch up with all my old moots!!!! how are you doing loves?!?! its been a while and i miss you <333 #yaya rambles #tag games

[iam-kenough]

Will  you ever notice me? Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Summary:  During they wandering in deep snowstorm, man from van  der Linde gang found odd looking girl and Dutch decides to take her to  camp to see if she can be any use, leading life of outlaw with them.  Quickly, new girl develops feelings towards Arthur, but he sees her just  as a kid...and she won't take that! It's an original character story  that starts in the place where Arthur, Dutch and Micah were supposed to  first meet with Sadie. Instead she's already with them.  

Authors notes: In this chapter I placed big/small (it’s you to decide) crossover, it doesn’t change the plot but I felt like it would be a good wink to others from Witcher’s fandom. If I could give my OC voice it would be this one from quoted song. It’s another chapter and you can find the rest of chapter on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction. I decided to post all parts I have at once so the fic could catch more attention. Words count: 2238 Chapter 7 At first he thought Iris is really gonna wait for him. He was telling himself that she just wanted some space and she moved to let himself think. But then, once, when he was lying in his bed it hit him. She told you that just to make it dumping her easier for you, you old fool. She won't wait for you and you let her go. And this realisation made him cry for brief moment. He just hurt another woman in his life. You stole her first kiss, Arthur Morgan. No, he couldn't sleep now. He was the worst. He walked down the stairs and went to the garden to smoke a cigarette and clean his head. And then he noticed that  under his favourite tree Iris is drawing something in her journal. She was singing too, something that sounded like a lullaby. He decided to listen to her before walking at her like that.

Wolves asleep amidst the trees Bats all a swaying in the breeze But one soul lies anxious wide awake Fearing no manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths For your dolly Polly sleep has flown Don't dare let her tremble alone For the witcher, heartless, cold Paid in coin of gold He comes he'll go leave naught behind But heartache and woe Deep, deep woe

- Nice song - he cleared his throat - but who is  a witcher? Iris's heart jumped right to her throat and so did her arms. She looked at him with the coldest manner she had. - It's a bad guy from a tale about himself. He lives in kings and queens times and he slaughters monsters, like...Ghosts and things like that. No one likes witcher's though. They are scary. - Never heard of it. Sounds interesting. - I can borrow you a book. He's in love with a witch with violet eyes and black hair. Really pretty one. - I am not much of a person who likes books - he laughed and then dragged from cigarette - too stupid for that. - If you say so, Mr Morgan - she closed her journal and got up, cleaning her dress from any grass and sand - Anyway, it's you seat. Sorry for taking it, it's free now. - Wait - he grabbed her wrist. He just didn't know what to do next - you have something in your hair - was all he said, using the most awkward manner to pick ''something'' from her hair and throw it away. - Thank you? - she looked at him rather startled. - I-I actually wanted to talk to you? If you have time. - There isn't much to talk about these days. Only Dutch has a lot to say to me, he keeps talking about Tahiti and mangoes. He's crazy, he doesn't even know where freakin' Tahiti is. - Neither do I, sweetheart. - You don't wanna go there without even bare skills of finding it on world's map, Mr Morgan. - I feel like you change the subject and I really need to talk to you, Iris. She sighed and nodded her head. It was just normal courtesy but he couldn't read thru it and started talking. -  I feel like you avoiding me. - Really now? I'm sorry. - You said you are gonna wait to let me think but then ya don't talk much to me. It's not like I am thinking about it constantly and I'm gonna overheat talking to you at the same time - he rambled. That was bad choice of words. - I am not thinking about you, I-I mean I think about you a lot, b-but not this way...- was all he babbled. It was even worse! - I see you could use some sleep, Mr Morgan. You don't make much sense - Iris patted his arm with the friendlier manner she could force herself to and  she left Arthur faster than the light. He was a fool meant to die alone. Arthur started to write a lot in his journal. Whole pages were covered  with words. If he could only speak so swiftly he would win Iris back already but all he could do was watching her from afar. She stopped taking any jobs that meant being with him, she hunted alone and when she needed help with anything she was asking Dutch straight away, even when Arthur was next to her and Dutch sat in his tent. Iris and Arthur were good friends but now they wasn't even strangers. She actually talked more to Micah than to him. And it hurt but he didn't know what to do when he could speak with Iris. It was his lack of communication. All he could think about was Iris's birthday happening today and he decided to go to the city to buy her a gift. But what would she liked? He had actually this much money that if she liked a boat, he could buy one. But boat didn't seem right. She was strong, yet femine. And smart, she knew a lot. Maybe perfumes? Nah, she smelled good enough for him. Then maybe a book? Arthur gulped while thinking how hard it's gonna be to buy a book for Iris. - Good morning, my birthday girl! - Mary- Beth chirped, trying to wake Iris up - I have something what you gonna like! - More hours of sleep and something to eat? - Yes! Kind of. I bought you cookies. But it's not what I really have. She handed Iris small tissue and girl unfolded it. There was silver pendant inside, with small emerald blinking in sunlight. - It's beautiful! You totally stole it, Mary - Beth! - I totally diid - she sang and cuddled her friend - Isn't that romantic? I steal for you, I mend your heart, soon and we gonna be married. - It actually is quite romantic. And to be honest we are free people. I would marry you. - I know you would, I am sweetest one. Ain't I? Tell me I am! - You are dearest to me, Mary-Beth. And this is absolutely the greatest thing I ever got for birthday. - It matches your eyes~!Arthur was gone for the whole day. He was running from shop to shop. After few hours he choosed one dress, but he also saw a beautiful haircomb, with carved elements and subtle. He wasn't sure for what he should settle and decided it's not gonna be a dress when lady in shop looked at him weirdly because when she asked Arthur for size, he told that he could embrace Iris's waist with his arm. He decided to be braver than usually and decided to enter book shop. - Er, g'day sir -Arthur scratched his chin - Do you have some books for person who likes to study...biology? - Biology, sir? - Well, my wife - he quickly noticed how sweet if would sound if was reall - she enrolled to university and she's gonna be a doctor, she's really smart you know and I wanted buy something...proper. - I think I have something just right for you, sir. It was indeed right.-Mary-Beth! - Iris jumped quickly in her direction and dragged her to nearest bush she saw. Her breath was heavy. - What, what? - Look what I had found - she spoken in with deadly serious manner. And the case was serious. She just noticed Arthur's journal left in his room. - Is it...? - Yes and I know we shouldn't but I don't have any decency - she straightened up proudly - so we gonna read it. And so they opened journal and was searching thru it for any appearance of Iri's name. At first it wasn't anything harmful and Arthur wrote about her as ''kid'' or ''new kid'' but right after what happened between them few days ago they could read something very disturbing. It was almost the worst Iris could imagine. In this note Arthur more or less compared her to Eliza and Marry. - ''She seems so similar to Eliza. She is just more nervous and frivolous. I think that maybe there isn't any more woman with Eliza's calm temper. I keep telling myself it's Eliza's ghost'' - quoted Iris and Mary-Beth squeaked with shock. - Look there ''I kissed her today and it was weird feeling. She doesn't seem to know what to do and with Mary it was easier'' son of a bitch, that's harsh. - He's right, you know. I can't kiss. I've got another one - Iris seemed not to be bothered. Yet. She just was in this adrenaline rush that made her laugh at it - ''She moved away from our room. I thought about it a lot, she's just a liar and she won't be back''. - Aren't you sad, Iris? - Mary-Beth looked at her with worry. She didn't know what she would do if she would read her lovers journal and found things like that. -Sad? Never. I expected him to say things like that. More mad...I feel used. Kind of like he tried me but didn't likt the taste after all. In early evening Arthur got back to camp with a gift covered in some fancy paper and heavy heart pounding in chest like bird in cage. He noticed that everyone is gathered. - Ladies and gentelman - Mary-Beth was standing on the log like she was giving a speech, with beer in her hand and Iris under her arm - Can I talk to all of you for a minute? - I guess you can - Micah said grumpily. - Thank you. As you all probably know it's my girlfriend's birtday today - she cuddled Iris to herself. Girl had big flower crown on her head. It was another gift to cheer her up after what they discovered and Arthur had to say he looked like a pixie or like elve from fairy tale - and thank's to Dutch we have a lot of beer... - Thanks, Dutch - Iris chimed in and sent man a kiss. -...and Mr Pearson cooked today something that doesn't taste awful, I think it was a gift for our birthday girl... Everyone bursted into laugh. Except Pearson. - Ya will starve, missy - he snarled. - ...and I totally stole this necklace for her and don't you think it's romantic? Laughs again. - ...and since I think he can, Dutch will gave us marriage today and we gonna be first married couple here... - I don't think I can - Dutch said humorously and dragged from his cigarette. - I think you will have to, she really wants that - Iris said pretending she's whispering. Mary-Beth cuddled her closer. - And I hope everyone is gonna have fun, thank you very much, woohoo! - She said as she kissed Iris in front of everybody, then their bottles clicked and the fun begin. At first it was mainly girls but later almost everyone joined the party. Beer was cold, night was warm and Iris danced a lot, around the campfire, making pirouettes and laughing sweetely. Beer and fun made her forget. And she couldn't care less.But after few hours man 'round there were too drunk, their hands becoming jazzy and she dissapeared under her favourite tree with journal and pencil. - I was thinking you gonna be there - Arthur appeared from god knows where. He seemed in weirdly good mood and she was drunk enough to handle this conversation with class. - And I am. Not many people are loosers enough to sit and watch how other people party. What's wrong? - I-I have something for you. Really broke my back to find something good enough for you. Happy birthday - he said. She unpacked this heavy something from the paper and she was speechless. It was a botanic atlas with drawings drawed by hand. It was mainly about herbs and how to heal with them. It was piece of art to her. But she had her pride. - Thank you, Mr Morgan - she said and he smiled. But only for a second. - I can't accept this gift - she said briefly, placing the book back in Arthur's hands. - Jesus, what? What is that about? I bought if for you to have it. -It's nothing, really. I just...can't have it. Lost interests in all that - she lied quickly. - You lie - it was first time he actually saw thru her fasade - You love things like that, I heard you speaking to Mary-Beth about it few days ago - his voice was harsh. - I am big fat liar, Mr Morgan and you are more than right! - Why you lie to me, then? You were telling all those things but now I think you didn't mean them- - Oh, did you? I know you didn't either. - Y-ya kidding me, kid? There is no day without me thinking about you. - I don't want you to think about me! Know what you really think about me and I am surprised with myself I was stupid enough to think you are normal. You are a weirdo who baths with dogs 'cause they are the only creatures that want to be around you! It was  the worst anybody said to him. Probably because no one was closer to him than her so far, but he didn't saw it that way. He couldn't think straight now, normally he was cold-headed and he would tell himself it's just anger talking through her. But now he decided to believe she hated him. He was glad that at least Iris took a book. 

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #smutt #drama #romance #fluff #angst #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan romance

[atiny-piratequeen]

Character Analysis: Jeong Yunho, ‘Father Earth’

Name: Jeong Yunho

Languages: English, Korean, Gaeilge (Irish), Spanish, French, Dutch, Egyptian (Post Transformation), Arabic (Modern Day), Japanese (Modern Day), Mandarin (Modern Day)

Crew Position: Surgeon/Doctor

Powers: Terrakinesis/Earth (Inherited from Egyptian God, Geb)

Compass Position + Arrowpoint Stone: North Eastern Facing, located on his left hip, Green Zircon

Eye Color: Honey Brown (Natural)/ Ice Blue (Demonic Form)

Hair Color: Brunette (Natural)/ Blonde, Dark Roots (Demonic Form)

Tattoos: A Robin, Cerasee, the Rod of Asclepius, an Amaryllis Blossom, and a Cup of Tea, all across his upper back/shoulder area. 

Likes: Animals, Making Fruit Teas, Tending to Gardens, Reading, Capoeira, Cuddling 

Dislikes: Greedy Doctors, Bitter Food, Neglectful Authority Figures

*The above artist rendition of Geb used courtesy of the game, Smite

Jeong Yunho.

A kind child from a loving family of four guardians. The son of Lloyd, Robin, Valeria, and Mei, Yunho spent his childhood learning how to make tea, gardens, and medicinal salves from plants, all while learning about the human body and the illnesses that plague it. 

His smiling face is a treat for the people in town when he and his parents travel to gather supplies. His kind demeanor and the calm, earthy mixture of floral and fruit scents that cling to him often lead to him being inviting enough to all animals. He can befriend any animal effortlessly, something his mother Valeria often teases lightly about. 

Surgeon Jeong Yunho

Having sought out the man that helped save his loved one, Yunho has dedicated himself to both Captain Hongjoong and the entire Utopia crew. He provides emotional and medical support to everyone in their time of need and his office is often an escape from the hardships that come with being out at sea, all with his serpentine friend Atlas usually wrapped around his neck. 

Yunho may be one of the few men who are fully in touch with their…’other’ selves, and as such, he’s been looking into the true nature of their powers and where they come from. Perhaps the gentlemanly voice in his head can provide some answers…

-Mythology-

Geb, also known as Seb or Keb, is the Egyptian God of the Earth. He is the son of Shu and Tefnut, and his wife is sister Nut, the Goddess of the Sky. Geb and Nut bore four children; Osiris, Isis, Set (Or Seth), and Nephthys. (Though some myths will credit Geb with being the father to the god Horus, as well)

Though his name apparently translates to “weak one”, Geb is highly respected and often seen as one of Egypt’s mightiest gods. A protector and a guide, Geb has had many instances in his lore where he is often the support to an allied god through their own journey. 

Despite being the God of the Earth, Geb also aided the deceased to the afterlife, and would provide them with food along to ease their long journey into the afterlife. Geb’s name is a powerful one, said to be spoken to heal the sick if their affliction was caused by a natural cause such as a cold or a poisonous sting from a scorpion. 

Geb’s laugh is also powerful, said that the sound of his laugh alone can cause earthquakes. The god can have his moments (as most others do), where he will seemingly cause strife for his followers, just because it is within his power to do so. From droughts without warning, to being the reason there is a huge, near uninhabitable desert isolating Egypt from the ancient world, Geb was no stranger to flexing his power and causing hardships. 

Despite this, he had his kinder moments, such as the fertile lands surrounding the Nile River. Just as he would cause a drought without warning, Geb would also bless followers with bountiful harvests, with a surplus to keep their livestock alive and healthy for day to day life. 

In ancient depictions of the two, Geb and his wife, Nut are depicted with him lying below her as she stands above him in the shape of an arc, covering him, but never touching him. Geb is reclining, often with his knee pulled upwards, as a show to represent the intimacy between the earth and sky. His limbs are often metaphors for the valleys, mountains, or hills. 

The most common depiction of Geb himself is that of a dark skinned man with a crown. Sometimes his skin is green. This is to represent the fertile soils of The Nile and growth of crops in the area. He is also often depicted with a goose on his head, as it is his sacred animal. He was also said to be able to transform into other birds, leading to the name “The Great Cackler” (which, given his earthquake laughs, watch out with that one-).

He is also associated with snakes, and less common depictions will have him as part man, part snake. In the Book of the Dead, Geb was credited with giving birth to the serpent Nehebkau.

-Power Applications/ Demon Transformation-

When Yunho unleashes his full power, his dark brunette hair will become mostly blonde. His eyes will go from their honey brown color, to an icy, nearly whitish blue color. A discolored triangle appears over his right eye and his smile is elongated, with earthy, root-like veins appearing around his lips and the edges of the triangular mark. He can see better out of his right eye, as his ‘Demon Self’ can see fully from it and assist during combat. 

With the uniqueness of still being able to communicate with his ‘other’ self, Yunho is attuned to the Earth and uses his full body for combat. He mixes Hapkido learned from mother Mei and Capoirea learned from his father Robin with his plant powers to attack with every part of himself, using his powers for extra attacks, or to keep himself steady as he goes on the offensive. 

Alongside his strong offensive capabilities, Yunho uses his powers for defense, raising thick trees and slabs of earth to block attacks or keep enemies at bay. He also can wrap vines around enemies to crush them, much like a constrictor would do to prey. 

When not in combat, Yunho’s plants have a number of other applications, with the most notable being the ability to grow medicinal and essential plants on the ship for his salves and other medical needs. He can also grow a number of flora for his teas or for Yeosang’s food. 

Plants also have a natural bioluminescence, and the kind doctor often uses his powers to  brighten the normally undetectable light to a degree where they can be used to illuminate his room without the need for lanterns. His plants also have a strong scent, and are used for aromatherapy, thus turning his quarters into a calm room for the crew to freely enter to destress at any time.

Ideally, Yunho fares the best with his powers in an area that is heavily wooded or has little to no man-made structures to keep the destruction levels low. If the area is too dry, on fire, or cold, he has difficulty summoning plants, as they will often be brittle or too weak for attacks, but he can use his more defensive stone-type fighting, or hand to hand to compensate for the potential loss. 

-Character Song Breakdown-

All of the main boys have a song assigned to them in the AtT playlist to go alongside their origin chapters. Yunho’s character song is Voices In My Head by San Holo. I will go over some spoiler things, but if you made it this far, you may know this already.

Unlike some of the other boys’ breakdowns, Yunho’s is rather simple. The song was picked as a hint to the fact that Yunho is the first of the boys to interact with his ‘demon’ self in a manner that wasn’t self-destructive. 

Impressed by his nature and lack of strong negativity within him, his demon self grants him full control of their powers and as a result of their mutual understanding, he’s actually stuck around instead of being ‘overcome’ by Yunho taking control. As a result, he is one of the only boys that has the ability to still hear the previous embodiment of his powers. Ever since he realized his transformation and relationship with his ‘demon’ self were different from the others, he’s been trying to dissect why exactly he was different from the others and provide aid to the other boys.  

He can hear the voice in his head. Get it? 

-I've got voices in my head

What to say when all is said?

I'm still try to understand

Sometimes words don't just make sense

-You've got voices in your head

What to say when all is said?

When you try to understand

But my words just don't make sense

-I say, "Don't make my heart ache

Don't make my heart ache now"

I say, "Don't make my heart ache

We'll find a way somehow"

-Character Blurb-

“Breathe.”

“I am, Yunho-”

“No. You’re not. Look at me.” 

Yeosang held his head and shook as Yunho lifted his chin, frowning at the tears running down the smaller pirate’s face. He was headed to the galley when he found him crying, curled up on the floor, in the middle of a panic attack. He wiped his cheeks and picked him up, barely flinching as Yeosang clung to his form, biting his lip hard. 

The walk to his room was quiet as Yeosang cried. Yunho set him down in his lap, thumbing away more of his tears before he looked him in the eyes. 

“Tell me what happened.”

“I had a dream about her and...and…” 

“Say no more. Come here.” He pulled Yeosang against his chest and hummed a low tune, rocking Yeosang as he shook. As he hummed, he raised a few plants to his bedside, the vines embracing the wood of his ceiling, drooping down to bathe the two in a gentle glow as the now-neon blooms let out a collection of scents that made Yeosang’s shoulders relax. 

The gentle scent soothed him and after another half an hour he smiled and wiped his eyes, kissing the underside of Yunho’s jaw. 

“Thanks, puppy.”

Yunho grinned and pulled him back against his chest, moving to lay down with Yeosang still by his side. 

“No worries. I’ll protect you, okay? Rest easy, she can’t hurt you.” 

Yunho wrapped his long limbs around the smaller pirate, nuzzling his soft hair as he exhaled gently, the earthy scent of the room relaxing both of them.

-M.List-

#fie writes #against the tide #att character analysis #jeong yunho #Yunho

[zoueriemandzijnopmars]

Dutch and Flemish Childrenʼs Media - Part 2: TV

Part 1: Books - Part 3: Studio 100 - Part 4: The Rest

When youʼre studying a language you often want to learn something about a corresponding culture as well, however, I have always had trouble finding resources on things meant for kids. Childrenʼs books are rarely mentioned in literature lists and nobody really wants to talk about the songs they listened to as a child.

This series will be dedicated to childrenʼs media in the Dutch language. Because of my own age most things I say will mainly be relevant for children born in the late nineties or early zeroes. (But thatʼs probably the biggest part of Tumblrʼs demographic anyway.) I have tried to include Dutch and Flemish media, but because Iʼm Dutch, the Dutch will most likely be over represented. If you think I missed something, feel free to add it yourself or send me a message and I’ll edit this post.

I will only include productions that are Dutch or Flemish, so everything thatʼs dubbed is not mentioned. (I made an exception for Sesamstraat because it has original content.) This post is sorted by the channel (with first a short description of the channel (I have to admit I got carried away with Ketnet)) on which productions first appeared. Exceptionally well known programmes get a * behind the name. (All Studio 100 productions will be mentioned in a separate post because that will keep things clearer.)

Ketnet

Ketnet is the Flemish childrenʼs channel, but I also watched it a lot growing up (mainly because they used to have Disney shows). Ketnet used to share the channel with Canvas (for adults) and the worst thing would be when there was tennis, because they would broadcast that instead of Samson en Gert. Anyway. Programmes are intersected by presenters (called wrappers) who talk between the programmes. There are often games/quizzes where children can call in and try to win something. Iʼm pretty sure the first quiz type was the Ketnetkroket which I vaguely remember and I know it was fun, but I donʼt really know why it was so much fun.)

Karrewiet

Youth news programme, explains the most important events in the world in clear language and focuses on what children think about it.

W817*

A comedic series around 6 students living in a student flat. While the series is comical it also discusses serious themes.

Zappelin (and Zapp)

Zappelin is the Dutch childrenʼs channel where nowadays Zapp is the block for older children and Zappelin the block for younger children.

De Fabeltjeskrant

Actually very old, my parents used to watch it too. Itʼs a puppet show centred around a group of animals living in het Dierenbos in Fabeltjesland. Every episode starts with Meneer de Uil (an owl puppet) reading the news of the day from the newspaper (de Fabeltjeskrant).

Het Jeugdjournaal*

The Dutch youth news programme. I used to prefer this one to the Flemish one but the idea is more or less the same. (Fun fact: some adults prefer to watch the news here, because it is explained more clearly.) The episodes used to be 10 minutes, but now they are 20 and they have a bigger focus more on lighter subjects like showing viral videos.

Het Klokhuis

And educative programme intersected with sketches. Every episode has a theme that can be everything, from volcanoes to yawning.

Sesamstraat*

Dutch version of Sesame Street. Some parts are dubbed from the American version, but all parts with humans are deleted and replaced with original Dutch content. The original Dutch puppets that interact with humans are Pino (big blue bird), Tommie (a dog), Ieniemienie (a mouse and the only girl) and Purk (a pig and the baby). The Dutch version also features original songs, my personal favourites being Ridder Tommie, Lief Lieveheersbeestje and Het Heksenlied.

Spangas

A soap that I mainly watched in the last years of primary school. I donʼt know how popular it is, but itʼs still running so it is probably watched by quite some people. The series focuses on students from het Spangalis College (a secondary school) and discusses basic school problems, but also more serious things. (I specifically remember lgbt things. The first few seasons had a gay and bi character, more recent seasons had a trans girl played by and actual trans girl (update: last week the news notified me that the series is sort of rebooted to Spangas: De Campus with a nonbinary character played by a nonbinary person)). However Iʼm forever mad by how they tried to discuss alcohol without actually using alcoholic drinks, but using energy drinks and chocolates with alcohol in them.

Welkom in de Geschiedenis

A collection of currently 6 series that discuss in a funny way (through sketches) topics of (mostly Dutch) history. Every series revolves around a certain period (like Romans, the Dutch golden age or the sixties) and every episode discusses one element of this period. The series is formatted as a talk show where at the beginning of each episode the presenter introduces the topic and the (deceased) guest of the day. (Like the art epsiode of the Dutch golden age series had the wives of Rembrandt as guests).

#langblr #dutch #belgium #books #flemish #the netherlands #children's media #I made an original post #part time langblr #other langblrs feel free to steal this idea for your native language #(but please tag me at least when your french or swedish #)

[darlingsdevil]

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 2: “Daffodils”

A/N: Have I mentioned this entire fic came to me while listening to Big Fish the musical?

Masterlist

•••

It had been three months since you had last seen Arthur, and you had come to terms with your husband’s death. You ended up in Richfield, a large city just on the other side of the Grizzlies. Quite literally, there was a mountain between you and your old life.

You saw Arthur in the bookstore when you pulled a book from a shelf, he was there for a split second staring right back at you through the shelves with a shy smile and twinkling blue eyes that dazzled like Flat Iron Lake. It took your breath away and pure joy and panic swelled in your heart every time. He was there at the end of the street, packing up Boadicea, just around the corner of the saloon, but when you blinked and came to your senses, he was gone. You knew it was insane, and you knew damn well he wasn’t coming back from the grave, but still you relished those moments, only if he was there for less than a second. It was like the winds from the Grizzlies had come down and swept him away, and with those winds, your hope. But those winds brought in the spring air, the ones that began to regrow your garden that had froze over.

Time was a wise healer. Arthur’s death was devastating and painful and everyday you felt the aftermath of your past mistakes. You had only recently been married to Arthur, only two months prior to his death so barely anyone knew that you had taken up the last name Morgan. Still, you kept your answers short when people asked you of your life before Richfield “The City of Opportunity”. You feared someone would recognize you, so you stayed from the more crowded areas of the city.

Life had been rough since the gang’s demise but things were beginning to look up, you rode with John for a month until you decided Richfield was where you wanted to be. John had enough on his plate, trying to keep him and his family alive in a cruel world, and he wanted to put as much distance as he could between him and wherever the hell Dutch and Micah were. Abigail begged you to stay a little longer with them, but you declined the offer. Richfield was a good of a place as any other.

Luckily, you were able to find a job at a general store within a few days of getting dropped off in Richfield and you had enough money to rent a small apartment above the general store within two weeks of your arrival there. Richfield was a new industrial city, lots of steel mills, but the people weren’t your average city folk. It was up and coming, so many of the citizens had lived there when it was just a small farming town. The only farms left were the ones on the outskirts of the city, but most of them had been turned commercial.

Richfield was a new start, you only hoped you could leave that old life behind even if you did still hold onto some hope that Arthur was still alive. That small sliver of wishful thinking was waning everyday, the odds of him making it off that mountain were greatly against him and you had come to terms with it then, but after no word from any of your former friends you began to become worried of your friends fates.

•••

Arthur’s cough got better with each passing day. It had been three months since Charles pulled a dying Arthur into Wapiti. At the beginning of his treatment, it was horrible, Charles was sure he would wake up one day and Arthur would be dead, but months passed and he hadn’t died yet.

His coughing was less frequent and with less ferocity, Charles had brought Arthur into the Valentine doctor a week ago, and there had been less fluid in his lungs which was a wonderful sign. Arthur’s body was fighting a hard battle, the recovery was slow and painstaking. The first month was dreadful and he was bedridden, fevers accompanied him frequently creating horrible dreams and delirious moments. He had passed out from coughing the second month once when Charles was out hunting and the healer woman, Mahala had nursed him back to health.

During the second month, Charles decided to begin building a home four miles south of Wapiti. The people of a Wapiti had given them so much already, it would be rude to take more from a group of people who had already lost so much.

It was a small cabin near a lake, but it was strong and sturdy. Wildlife was abundant there. Arthur wasn’t quite strong enough for the move yet, but soon he would be. Arthur claimed he was ready to go, but Charles knew better. Arthur was becoming ansty and the people of Wapiti were weary of his long stay and the people Charles and Arthur used to be associated with.

Charles spoke little of the gang and Arthur hadn’t asked about you, but he sure did think about you. Arthur decided it was the best at the moment if he didn’t seek you out, he would just pull himself deeper into his sickness. It tore at him that he thought this way, that he was so selfish, but it was simply for the best. It was wiser to allow the dust to settle then to kick up even more. Arthur worried for you constantly and he secretly hoped you were searching for him too even if he knew that you presumed him dead. You had both said your goodbyes, and Arthur was fine with being dead to you at the moment.

•••

“Why do you wear that ring? You’ve never mentioned being married.” Lee asked you one day while you swept the floors of the general store. He had no filter, but he never intentionally said something that would hurt you.

“It was my husband’s ring.” You said bluntly, continuing with your sweeping. You stopped to fix a jar of peaches that had fallen over and you remembered Arthur’s secret sweet tooth he had, that only you and Jack had known about.

Lee was taken aback by your short answer, his hands stopped counting the money in the drawer.

“Oh.. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” His ears burned with shame, cursing his curious tongue.

“It’s alright.” You said shaking your head.

It was late at night, the general store had been closed for an hour. A caravan had stopped during the day, and the patrons were rowdy, they messed up the towers of canned foods and didn’t bother to pick them back up so it took even longer to close the store. The caravan was a mirror of the gang, near 25 men and women, a few children. It was bittersweet to see them, even if they had messed up your store, you knew your group was far from civilized. You longed for the days around the campfire, everyone laughing and smiling, but it had been so long since then, and much had changed.

Lee was a close friend of yours, he was the son of the old man who owned the shop, and the only other worker there. He was playful and teased you a lot, but he was kind and thoughtful. You could tell he was sweet on you, and perhaps you were a little bit as well. It was too soon, Arthur barely dead and you were already blushing around another man. It was shameful.

You finally finished your sweeping, Lee leaned against the counter, eyeing a butterscotch sweet next to the counter. You sighed.

“Just take it.”

Lee grinned like a child, plucking the butterscotch off the small dish.

He turned around towards the front door, locking it with ease. You turned towards the stairs that led up to your apartment. Lee and his father's apartment was directly below yours.

Lee quickly opened the door for you, the stairwell was dim. You hated walking up it, it was steep and rickety. The building itself was one of the oldest in the city, it held heavy memories. Lee’s mother had passed away in the house while giving birth to her second child, Lee’s little sister, Anastasia. Anastasia ran away when she was 17, to marry an outlaw. Apparently, that got her killed. Lee received word of her death a few years ago, he hadn’t seen her since the day she left, he didn’t even know where she was buried. The life of an outlaw never ended well.

Lee never spoke of her much, all you knew was that she was passionate and opinionated, a true wild card and you could tell the outlaw life would’ve done her well. Lee had a strong hate for outlaws and criminals because of it, he still didn’t know about your past and you intended to keep it that way.

Lee’s father was a kind man, he was quiet but you could tell he loved Lee very much. He wasn’t around much, he spent most of his time in his room but occasionally he would help run the shop.

You reached the platform outside of Lee’s apartment. He stopped right behind you, dangerously close. Your heart pounded in your ears. It didn’t help that the platform was incredibly small either. You turned to face him.

“Give me your hand.” He said, almost a whisper. You reached out your hand and he placed a small round object on it, under further inspection you realized it was a butterscotch candy.

You smiled, looking back up at him. He had a shy grin plastered on his face. You were thankful of the darkness of the stairwell, otherwise he would have seen your ferocious blushing.

“Goodnight, Lee.” You kissed him on the cheek, grasping your candy firmly in your palm, and you calmly made your way up to your apartment, leaving Lee flustered on the doorstep.

•••

On a particularly warm day, despite it being fall, Arthur arose from his bed to take a walk around the perimeter. Mahala eyed him cautiously but he simply smiled, something he was becoming better at. Mahala had become close with Arthur, she was like another Miss Grimshaw, a tough love mother to him. Charles was out for the day, and Rains Fall was nowhere to be found. It was quiet in the village.

The sun was bright and the crispness of the air felt wonderful to Arthur. His legs were still tense from lying down for so long, they felt heavy and strange.

Arthur missed the days of hunting, just getting on Boadicea and riding into the sunset. He missed not being watched every second, Mahala and Charles fretting over him every second. He missed the days where he could spread his wings and fly. He was caged at the moment, and an injured bird cannot fly. An injured bird still has the instinct to soar, even if the owners are particularly kind.

But Arthur knew this calm, peacefulness was just what he needed. After a life of running, he needed a place to become grounded for once.

He found himself walking further and further, farther than he’d ever walked before. He found himself at a slow stream, the water trickling over the rocks. The birds sang through the trees and Arthur found himself sitting down next to the water.

He studied the terrain, wishing he would have kept his journal with him. This was a perfect place for a landscape sketch. The next time Charles went into Valentine, he would have to ask for a new journal.

On the other side of the stream, there was a bright yellow flower. It was strange to see, it stuck out against the dark greens and grays of the forest.

“It’s a daffodil.” A voice spoke from behind him, making him jump. Mahala stood next to Arthur, her hands on her hips.

“What would have happened if something attacked you out here? Could you have fought them off?” She asked the former outlaw, glaring at him like she had caught her child with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Well I didn’t get attacked, did I? Besides, I was just lookin’ at that flower. What'd you say it was? A daffodil?” He asked, pointing towards the sun colored flower.

Mahala glared at him before returning her attention to the flower, her gaze softened.

“Yes. The rebirth flower.”

#The Ballads of Rebirth #TBOR #Arthur Morgan x Reader #Arthur Morgan x Female Reade #rdr2 angst #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #rdr2 x reader #angst #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction