#also i know cad had just got bit on the face earlier in that fight but i forgot ok | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maybeimamuppet · 3 years

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someone gets hurt

“Janis! Janis!” Cady calls, rushing up to her at the end of the school day.

“Babe, you good?” Janis asks worriedly as her girlfriend barrels into her.

Cady nods rapidly. “Yes! Principal Duvall just told me I’m the valedictorian!”

Janis gasps, wrapping her in a hug. “You are? Oh my god, baby! That’s great! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Cady giggles from in her embrace. “Are you staying to paint today?”

“Yeah, you want to come?” Janis asks, plotting in her head. Cady has worked so hard this year, she deserves to be valedictorian, arbitrary as the title is. Janis should do something.

“Always,” Cady grins, leaning up for a kiss and taking her hand to lead them to the art rooms. “How is Damian?”

“He’s fine, it’s just a sprain. Texted me earlier high off his ass on painkillers though, that was funny,” Janis chuckles. “Said there was a dragon in his mashed potatoes.”

“Janis! Don’t laugh at him, you know he has a phobia of broken bones. He’s lucky it was just a sprain. Poor guy,” Cady chides.

“He fell down the stairs! I’m allowed to laugh,” Janis defends.

They’d decided to have lunch in the auditorium today, just for fun. Damian had finished eating early and showed off some complicated choreography from his college audition cuts. He’d absolutely nailed them, but during his bows and basking in the applause of his friends, had fallen down the stairs and sprained his foot. He’d fallen into a panic attack, thinking he had broken it, and was taken to the hospital almost immediately.

“He’s your best friend! I’m gonna tell him you laughed,” Cady threatens.

Janis snorts. “You little narc. Go ahead, he laughed at me when I broke my tailbone when we went roller skating.”

“Hmph. Who are you texting?”

Janis had pulled out her phone to text Regina. She loves throwing parties and giving gifts, she might have some ideas for something Janis could do to surprise Cady.

“Uh, my mom. I actually can’t stay today, uhm... Jules is... sick. I have to go help my mom take care of her,” Janis lies through her teeth.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need me to get her anything?” Cady asks, miraculously not having noticed. She struggles reading people sometimes.

“No, don’t worry about it, baby. It’s just a cold, but she gets really whiny and stuff whenever she’s sick,” Janis explains. That’s true, at least.

“Poor thing. Tell her I hope she feels better soon. I’m going to go visit Damian,” Cady says, popping up on her tippy toes to kiss her goodbye.

“Okay, baby. Tell him I said hi,” Janis responds, kissing her back. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Good luck,” Cady says back.

“Thanks,” Janis chuckles.

————-

“Hi, Dame,” Cady says sadly as she knocks on the door of his hospital room.

“Hey, Cads!” Damian says.

Cady chuckles as she comes to sit by his bed. “You sound better.”

“I got, like, hella painkillers a while ago. Went on some fun daydreams,” Damian replies. “Not high anymore though.”

“Good, I don’t know if I could handle you all hopped up,” Cady giggles. “Janis said you texted her something about a dragon in your mashed potatoes while she was in math class.”

“I did? Oh god, she’s never gonna let me live that down,” Damian sighs. “Oh well.”

“I’ll make her go easy on you,” Cady says confidently, pulling out an activity book she had made during study hall. “I made this for you. I know it’s a little childish, but I figured you might want something to do.”

“Aww! Thanks, Caddy. Ooh, connect the dots,” Damian responds as he flips through it. “What’s the matter?”

Cady turns from where she’s standing, frowning as she looks out the window. His view goes across the street, looking over a coffee shop. Janis lied? She’s in the shop, sitting with... Regina George. Hm. They’re laughing at something.

“Huh? Oh, nothing, don’t worry about it,” Cady says through grit teeth, coming back to his side and trying to hide her seething jealousy. He doesn’t need that right now. “So, how long are you stuck in here?”

“I get out tonight, once they’re totally sure I’m not reacting to anything they’ve given me,” Damian replies. “I’m not going to be in school for about a week, though. I’m not supposed to walk even with crutches until then.”

“You poor thing,” Cady responds as she rolls her shoulders to get rid of the tension. “I’ll visit you as much as I can, but I just got a huge English project that’s gonna take me a while.”

Damian pats her hand comfortingly. “I get it, Cads, don’t worry about it. I have this cool book to work on.”

Cady chuckles. “I’ll send other people to come keep you company on the days I can’t. And you have Pippa in the meantime.”

Damian laughs outright at that. His french bulldog doesn’t make a great caregiver. “Thanks, little slice.”

“Anytime.”

—————

“So how was Julie?” Cady asks during her daily morning meet-up with Janis on Monday. She wants to hear what Janis has to say, now that she knows she lied.

Janis doesn’t even look up from her phone, tapping away texts to... someone. Probably Regina. “Hm? Oh, she was fine, thanks. Just needed a rest. How was Damian?”

“He was fine,” Cady huffs. Janis had lied again. Janis hums noncommittally. “He went on a quest to fight dragons with a fairy princess and took me. I was an elf. You should really come next time. He’s a wizard, you know. I’m surprised you didn’t notice before. The doctor even had an enchanted sword.”

“Good for him,” Janis replies, having taken in nothing. The bell rings then, making them both jump. “Oh shit. Have a good day, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady responds, blinking in surprise at the quick kiss pressed to her lips before Janis runs to class. What the hell is going on with her?

Janis continues acting oddly into the next day. She’s not at lunch on Tuesday, and neither is Regina. Cady plops her tray of meatloaf on the table and sits down with a huff, startling Gretchen and Karen.

“You okay, Cady?” Gretchen asks worriedly. “You look tense.”

Cady stabs her meatloaf so hard that a few of the tines snap off her plastic fork. “Peachy. Has Regina told you guys anything? About what she’s been up to lately? Janis has been acting so weird, and I think Regina is part of it.”

“Um, no,” Karen lies. Regina had told them the plan to surprise Cady, so they actually knew everything. They had been sworn to secrecy.

“Yeah, we don’t know anything,” Gretchen piggybacks. “How has Janis been acting weird?”

“She... she lied to me,” Cady answers, realizing this may be more serious than she had originally thought. “I got chosen as valedictorian, I thought maybe we could go have dinner or something to celebrate after we visited Damian, but she said her sister was sick. But she wasn’t, Janis was in the coffee shop with Regina.”

“With Regina? Are you sure?” Karen responds. “Regina was with us Friday. And they still, like, totally aren’t friends. X emoji.”

“It was definitely Janis, at least,” Cady says sadly. “I guess it might not have been Regina. But how many other platinum blondes that wear full designer outfits would Janis know? Maybe it was before you guys hung out.”

“That is totally strange,” Gretchen responds, anxious about lying. She tries to change the subject quickly. “Has Janis done anything else weird?”

Cady takes the bait. “She wouldn’t stop texting yesterday, or this morning. I don’t know who she was talking to, but she didn’t even listen to me. I made up some story about Damian and I fighting dragons and she just said ‘good for him’.”

“Dragons? That’s so fetch,” Karen responds. “I want to meet a dragon. It’s one of my life goals, sunrise emoji.”

“Karen, sweetie, no. She said she made it up, remember? Dragons aren’t real,” Gretchen says quietly, squeezing her hand.

“That’s not fetch,” Karen huffs, going quiet.

“I know, sweetie. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry too much, Cady,” Gretchen says as she tries to comfort her girlfriend. “Janis is, like, head over heels for you. It’ll work out.”

“It better,” Cady grumbles. “Oh, hey, can you guys pop in to see Damian after school? Just for a little while, make sure he’s okay? I told him I’d have people drop by on days I couldn’t go see him.”

“Why can’t you go?” Gretchen asks, genuinely curious.

“I got this English project Friday, I have to work on it. I’m supposed to pick a career I want in the future and make a presentation about it, and it has to be five minutes long! I don’t even know what I want to do for a job,” Cady sighs.

“You can do it, Cady, you’re super smart,” Karen pipes up again. “Notebook emoji. But, like, shrug emoji, would Damian even want to see us?”

“Why wouldn’t he want to see you? He really likes you guys now. You’re not mean to him or Janis anymore, he doesn’t have anything against you guys anymore,” Cady says sadly. “You guys don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but he’d love to see you. You’re his friends.”

Of course we’ll go, we don’t have anything going on,” Gretchen responds. They need to fill him in on the plan, anyway.

“Oh, thank you,” Cady breathes with relief. “I owe you one.”

“It’s fine, Cady. Good luck with your project,” Gretchen says.

“Ugh,” Cady grumbles at the reminder, slamming her head into the table.

————-

By Wednesday afternoon, Cady is at her wits end. She hasn’t slept in two days researching for her project, and Janis still won’t pay attention to her. She’d gotten confirmation that it had been Regina with Janis at the coffee shop, so Gretchen and Karen had also lied to her face.

She heads to the art rooms after school to watch Janis paint, needing a break from her own thoughts. Even if she is a bit angry with Janis. Maybe this will patch things up.

Cady loves watching Janis paint. She loves the cute way her brow furrows and her tongue pokes out to the side whenever she tries to focus, the way every stroke of the brush seems to have a purpose. Janis can create gorgeous scenes just from her mind, as if the brush in her hand is simply an extension of her imagination. Cady loves watching a few simple sketches or swipes of her paintbrush turn to incredible works of art.

Cady’s tried to paint with her a few times, only succeeding in creating a blotchy mess of colors and a few vague shapes, but Janis always cheered her on and pointed out the things she had done well. Cady decided she likes watching Janis paint more than doing it herself, but they have painting mini-dates from time to time that they both enjoy immensely.

She opens the door quietly when she finally reaches the classroom, in hopes of surprising her girlfriend. She winds up getting the surprise herself, finding none other than Regina talking to Janis. Again. Regina is sitting haughtily on the counter, facing Cady but not looking at her. There’s a strangely excited glint in her eyes. Janis is leaning against a desk facing Regina, so her back is to Cady.

They’re awfully close together, Cady thinks as her face falls and her chest burns with envy. She thanks her lucky stars they haven’t spotted her yet, allowing her to eavesdrop for a second. She tries desperately to tamp down the voice growling ‘get away from my girlfriend’ in her head. There has to be some explanation.

Cady can’t quite pick up most of their conversation, but she does hear Regina say, “Cady’s not going to find out, Janis,” and lean closer.

That’s all she needs to hear. She feels herself let out a harsh sob, turning on her heel and running from the room. Janis whirls around just before the door slams shut behind her. “Caddy! Shit,” she calls as she breaks into a sprint after her. “Baby, please wait, let me explain!”

“What the fuck is there to explain, Janis?!” Cady yells at her, walking backwards for a second. “Just leave me alone. Go to her, I hope she makes you happy.” And with that, she turns and continues running.

“Baby, please,” Janis begs, reaching for her. Cady doesn’t turn back around.

Cady winds up running the whole mile back to her house without noticing, ignoring the worried calls of her parents as she barrels up the stairs to her bedroom, throwing her backpack off and burrowing under her covers. Her chest is starting to hurt with how hard she’s sobbing. Maybe she’s feeling her heart breaking.

How could I be so stupid with love again? Of course Janis would pick Regina over me. Regina has every American standard of beauty down pat, and a good personality now. What do I have?

She hears her phone pinging frantically, looking to see texts flooding in from Janis and Regina, both begging her to let Janis explain. She flips it to silent after sending her parents a text, letting them know to turn Janis away should she turn up at any point.

How could they do this to me? I understand why Janis chose her, but how could she be so cruel? Regina is supposed to be nicer now, how could she do this? It’s fucking Aaron all over again. I caught feelings for Janis and she snatched her away. And Janis... did she ever love me? How could she do this?

She rolls onto her side and soaks her pillow in tears, deciding she gets the decision to swear off of dating now.

Janis loses Cady as she reaches the main doors, panting with exertion. She turns to head back to the classroom to grab her bag.

“Janis, I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was there or I wouldn’t have phrased it like that,” Regina bursts out as soon as she enters, looking near tears.

“Reg, it... it’ll be fine. It has to be. I’ll go find her and try to explain again, I guess. Better to ruin the surprise than have her think I’m cheating on her,” Janis says in response, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and moving quickly back towards the door.

Regina sighs heavily. “Okay, good luck. I’ll text her too. God, she looked so... broken.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Reggie. Later,” Janis calls over her shoulder, hurrying towards the entrance to the building.

She pulls her phone from her pocket as she walks to Cady’s house, figuring that must be where she’s gone.

Jellybean: caddy that wasn’t what it looked like i promise

Jellybean: are you okay??

Jellybean: please let me explain

Jellybean: caddy you know me you know i wouldn’t do that to you please

Jellybean: baby??

Cady hasn’t answered or even read any of her messages by the time Janis is knocking on the door.

“Cady says she doesn’t want to see you,” Cady’s mother says harshly, protective of her cub.

“Mrs. Heron, please, I need to explain. She didn’t see what she thought she did,” Janis begs.

Mrs. Heron sighs. “Janis, I want to believe you, but Cady has been hurt by this Regina girl before. You need to leave, give her time. I’ll tell her you came by.”

She closes the door before Janis can get another word out. Give her time, Janis thinks as she walks to Damian’s house next, seething with anger.

Cady’s father wakes her up just before dinner, softly stroking her hair. She must have cried herself to sleep.

“Janis came by,” he says carefully. “Your mother sent her away like you asked.”

Cady immediately bursts into tears at the mention of her now ex-girlfriend. “I don’t wanna see her again. I want to switch schools.”

“Shh, binti. You’re a month away from graduation, you’re not switching schools. But you can stay home tomorrow. What happened?”

Cady cries harder. “Janis was-was talking to Regina in the art room and-and they were so close together and then Janis said something and R-Regina said that-that I wouldn’t find out about it,” she wails into his shoulder.

“Shh, ndege wangu mdogo wa wimbo. Did you hear what it was you wouldn’t find out about?” Her father hushes.

“She’s cheating on me! With Regina,” Cady sobs. “What else could it be?”

“Did you hear them say that? Or see them do anything?”

“No,” she admits shyly.

“Then you don’t know. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, you’re going to jump into your grave one of these times,” her father chides gently. “You don’t have to today, or even anytime soon, but you should hear Janis out at some point, let her explain.”

“Fine,” Cady sniffs. “But what is she hiding? Janis tells me everything.”

“That I don’t know, binti. You take some time to think. I’ll bring up your dinner.” And with a forehead kiss, her father leaves her alone.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what?” Damian asks hastily, interrupting Janis. “Start again and slow down.”

“Caddy found me talking to Regina and now she thinks I’m cheating. She said she didn’t want to see me and won’t even read my texts,” she growls.

“Wow. That’s... out of character for her,” Damian says in shock.

“I know! I don’t know what to do, she won’t let me explain anything,” Janis huffs, terrified she might lose her girlfriend over something so stupid. “And now I’m wondering what the hell she really thinks of me. If she can’t trust me enough to know I would never cheat on her, especially with Regina fucking George, then should we even be together?”

“That’s a fair point, I guess,” Damian admits. “But that really doesn’t sound like Caddy. Something else has to be going on.”

Janis sighs, trying to get herself back under control. She can’t even figure out why she’s so angry. “Can you talk to her?”

Damian looks meaningfully at his wounded foot, but eventually can’t resist the urge to help his platonic soulmate. “I can try, I guess. Maybe convince her to hear you out. But I can’t explain what happened or get her to forgive you. You have to do that.”

“Fine,” Janis huffs. “Just make sure she’s okay.”

“She will be, Jan, don’t worry. I’ll text her, see if she can come over tomorrow,” Damian comforts.

“Thanks, D.”

————-

Cady warily checks her phone when she wakes up the next morning, surprised when she sees her most recent text is from Damian.

Big Slice: Do you wanna come hang out with me after school today?? Pippa is not performing her caregiver duties well enough

She sighs. It’s almost definitely a trap, Damian is Janis’ best friend. That thought gives her pause. If she and Janis break up for good, will she lose her friendship with Damian? And since Regina is involved, will Gretchen and Karen stop being her friends, too? If she doesn’t go talk to Damian, she might go back to being totally alone for the third time in two years.

Little Slice: Yeah, I’ll come. I’ll be over around noon. My parents made me take a mental health day.

Big Slice: 📷

Little Slice: Wait, Janis won’t be there, will she?

Big Slice: Nope just us :) She went to school and has to babysit Juju after

Little Slice: Good.

Cady hauls herself out of bed with a great deal of effort, surprised to see it’s already eleven. She trudges down the stairs still in her pajamas for breakfast, staring out the window at absolutely nothing as she munches on her cereal.

Climbing back up the stairs feels like she’s climbing Kilimanjaro again, but she manages and resists the urge to flop back into bed. She doesn’t even have the energy to brush her hair, tying it up into a knot and spraying a little extra perfume on in place of a shower.

She grabs her phone after she tugs on a sweatshirt and some leggings, texting her dad to tell him she’s going to see Damian.

Cady perks up a little on her walk over, the sun giving her some energy. She has a spare key, so lets herself into Damian’s house and heads to his bedroom.

“Hey, Cads, how are you?” Damian asks when he turns to look at her. Janis clearly told him everything, but he’s pretending not to know.

“Fine,” Cady whispers. She can feel tears burning in her eyes and knows if she tries to speak she’ll start crying. Damian doesn’t need her problems on top of his own and Janis’.

“No, you’re not,” Damian says, reaching for her. “Come tell me your troubles.”

“You have your own problems, you don’t need to hear mine,” Cady mumbles.

“Bitch, please, I live for drama. I’ve been holed up here for almost a week, give me something to do,” Damian begs.

Cady gives in to the cuddling urge, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. She heaves a sigh to try and keep the tears at bay, to no avail.

“Did Janis tell you?” She says, choking out a sob immediately after.

Damian sits up to hold her better. “Yes, but I want to hear your side of things too.”

Cady sobs harder. “She was-was talking to-to-to Regina in the art room, and R-Regina looked... excited about something and then Janis said something to h-her and Regina said that-that I wouldn’t find out about it.”

“So what do you think they meant by that?” Damian hums sadly, rubbing her back.

“Are they t-together? Is she cheat-cheating on me?” Cady whimpers.

“Let’s work through this together, hm? You remember how Janis acted when she had a crush on you, yeah?” Damian asks, continuing when she nods. “Disaster lesbian. Has she been acting like that around Regina?”

“No,” Cady sniffles. “But-but she could be meeting her when I don’t know about it, and hiding it when-when I’m around.”

“That’s another thing. Has Janis been lying to you about where she is, or acting suspicious?” Damian asks comfortingly.

Cady is about to say no before she remembers Friday. “Yeah,” she wails. “On-on Friday, she said Juliana was sick... b-but when I was at the ho-hospital with you she w-went to that coffee sh-shop with Regina.”

“Okay, so we have one suspicious thing, I’ll admit that is weird,” Damian says, scolding Janis internally. “Has she done anything else?”

Cady sniffles as she pauses to think. “She won’t l-listen to me any-anymore. She spent all day Monday and Tuesday t-tex-texting somebody and didn’t hear anything I said, and then-then she missed lunch. She did-did yesterday, t-too.”

“That’s some bullshit,” Damian calls. “She shouldn’t be doing that, I’ll talk to her about that. Okay, so a few things. Back to our checklist. Has Janis stopped saying things like ‘I love you’ or giving you kisses and cuddles and stuff?”

“No,” Cady sobs. She misses that, so much. And it’s only been a day. “She hasn’t.”

“Has Janis ever willingly wanted to spend a long amount of time with Regina? In the entire time you’ve known them? Even now that Reggie is a decent human?” Damian asks, looking at her meaningfully.

“No,” Cady admits. “Not unless one of us is around.”

“So does it make sense for them to be together?”

“No,” she sniffles. “But what if she’s with somebody else?”

“Who would she be with?” He asks.

Cady stops to think. The only other lesbian Janis knows well is Sonja Acquino, and she had gotten a girlfriend over winter break. Girls at school still tended to avoid Janis. Unless she met someone outside of school, there’s nobody she could possibly be with. Cady spends most of her time outside of school with Janis, and Janis would’ve told her if she had met a fellow gay.

Cady processes this realization and bursts into sobs anew. “God, I’m so stupid. Is Janis mad at me?”

“No, little slice, no. Janis has been acting weird, you had every right to be suspicious. Janis isn’t mad, either. She’s frustrated that you won’t talk to her, and she’s upset that you think she would do something like that. But I think once you both take a couple days to process and regroup, you should hear her out and make her hear you out, and then you’ll be fine. You two are so fucking grossly in love, you’re gonna make it through this.”

“Thank you,” Cady sniffs. “For listening. I would’ve understood if you took her side. You’re such a good friend.”

“Thanks, Cads,” Damian chuckles. “I try. But really, I’m friends with both of you; I’m talking to you because I want to. You both have shit happening that you’re not telling the other one about; once you clear the air there won’t even be sides to this. And besides, you’re Pippa’s favorite auntie. We can’t let you get away.”

Cady gives a watery chuckle at that, wiping the tears from under her eyes. “God, I’m such a mess.”

“Bitch, you’re fine. Until, like, five minutes ago you thought you had your second major heartbreak in two years,” Damian chastises gently. “We have ice cream in the freezer, can you go get it for us please?”

“Yes,” Cady says, kissing his cheek and grabbing a tissue from the box on his dresser. “I’ll be right back.”

She hears the clacking of small claws following her down the hallway to the kitchen, turning to see the sweet little squished face of Damian’s french bulldog.

“Hi Pip,” she says in her baby voice. “How are you, puppies?” Pippa wiggles excitedly when Cady picks her up, scrambling to lick the tear tracks from her cheeks. “Oh, thank you. Have you been taking good care of Damian?”

She bursts out laughing when Damian calls “No!” from his room, apparently having overheard their conversation.

“Well that can’t be right, your little face could heal any injury,” Cady says as she sets the dog down. She opens the freezer, grabbing two pints of ice cream and some spoons from the drawer before heading back to Damian.

“Pippa would be a terrible nurse,” Damian says when she comes back. “She keeps tripping me every time I try to go to the bathroom.”

Cady giggles. “She’s doing her best, be nice. Here’s your ice cream.”

“Thank youuuuu,” Damian sings. “Now, what should we watch to get your mind off of things?”

Cady crawls back into bed next to him, helping Pippa up as she stands on her hind legs to see what they’re doing. “Have you found any new bootlegs?”

“Ooh, yeah, actually. I’ve had a lot of time to look,” Damian answers, grabbing his laptop from his nightstand and a flash drive from the drawer. “I found a really good quality one of The Lion King, do you want to watch that?”

Cady’s eyes go wide as she opens her ice cream and she nods excitedly. “I’ve just been watching videos of this monkey who’s best friends with a duck on repeat. It kept making me cry harder because they’re so cute. Your plan sounds better.”

“You are the biggest dork I know, I love you dearly,” Damian responds, bringing up the right file. “Alright, time to see some puppet elephants and shit.”

Cady cuddles into his side as the video starts, with Pippa resting protectively at their feet.

“Is Janis okay?” she asks quietly after they finish.

“Yes, she’s okay. She’ll be better after you two talk, but she’s fine,” Damian responds comfortingly. “I found one of Frozen too, do you want to watch that?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

She stays over through dinner, watching musicals and playing card games with Damian to pass the time. He makes her promise to shower and clean her inevitably messy room when she gets home, and turn her phone back on.

She keeps her promises and heads to bed, feeling much more secure in her relationships than she did a few hours prior.

————-

Janis stays home from school on Friday, having woken up even angrier than she had the day before.

Her therapist in middle school had told her to find a constructive way to deal with anger, since she had a tendency to cause either severe property damage or accidental damage to herself with her impulse decisions. Damian had had to explain her way out of trouble several times.

So, Janis had taken up yarn crafts. She would knit or cross-stitch or crochet, finding the repetitive motions soothing. Plus, a lot of the tools were quite sharp, making her feel like she had weapons.

She’s aggressively working on embroidering new designs on her jacket right around the time she’s supposed to be in school, when none other than Damian comes barreling into her room, as if he’d felt a disturbance in the force and had come to make sure she’s okay.

“Phone,” he says immediately when he sees her face and choice of activity, hobbling over on his crutches and holding out a hand for it.

“Why?” Janis grumbles but shuts it off and hands it over regardless.

“So you don’t do something on it that you’ll regret later. Internet is permanent. You wanna go throw rocks in the pond?” He asks, as if she’s a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Can you do that? You’re not even supposed to be on crutches yet,” Janis asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You know damn well I would saw my legs off for you, I’m fine taking a little longer to heal. Plus, I got cleared by the doctor yesterday, so yes I am supposed to be on crutches yet,” he says childishly as he sticks his tongue out at her. “Are we going or not?”

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles, throwing off her covers to go get dressed.

Luckily, Damian’s unhurt foot is the one he needs to drive, so he can still do so safely. He lets Janis play her Angory Times playlist on the way there, which is just a lot of loud, shouty songs one right after another. Damian normally hates this kind of music, but Janis can see him actively trying to be supportive and let her continue.

Fortunately for him, the pond isn’t too far away, and Janis sees him breathe a sigh of relief when he shuts the car off and the noise stops. Damian grabs his crutches from the backseat and heads off, Janis stalking after him.

She bends to pick up rocks on her way, also grabbing the ones Damian points to. His are for skipping, small and flat and smooth. Hers are just for throwing, heavy ones that will make a good splash when they’re hurtled into the water.

Once their respective collections are amassed, they stand next to one another on the shore and go at it. Janis feels her anger chipping away as she chucks her rocks like baseballs into the murky water, delighting in the splashes echoing around them.

This is part of why she loves Damian so much. He knows exactly what to do to make her feel better in any possible scenario, and is perfectly content to do something as stupid as throw rocks into a creek with her in complete silence. On a sprained foot, no less.

“Nice,” she pants when Damian gets six skips in a row with one of his.

“Thanks,” Damian huffs back. “How many fish d’you think we’ve concussed so far?”

Janis laughs at that, hurtling her last rock as hard as she can. It hurts her shoulder a little, but lands almost halfway across the pond. “I don’t think fish can live in this water, honestly.”

“You’re probably right. Feeling better?” Damian asks, skipping his last stone. Four skips isn’t bad.

“Yeah. Can we get coffee?” Janis asks, trying to catch her breath.

“Yeah. Come on.”

Once Janis has her iced coffee and Damian has his latte, they find a bench to sit on and just watch the world go by for a while.

“So, are you ready to talk about why I had to take you to go chuck rocks into the pond?” Damian asks gently.

Janis sighs. “I just... I want to know what she’s thinking. I thought she trusted me, that we trusted each other. If she can’t believe that I wouldn’t do that to the point of completely cutting me off at the first slightly suspicious thing, then do we even... have a relationship?”

Damian doesn’t say anything, just takes her hand and squeezes it to encourage her to continue.

“Like... what else is going on with her? What is she not telling me? I just-I just don’t know what she needs. I’ve never felt so disconnected from her before. I’m-I’m scared.” Janis murmurs.

Damian hums sadly. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles.

“I really don’t think this is happening because Cady doesn’t trust you. I think it’s happening because she doesn’t trust herself.” Damian responds. “She was a wreck when she came over yesterday, she had obviously been crying and hadn’t showered, things like that. Her hair wasn’t even brushed. When Aaron got back with Regina she got hot and did our whole revenge party thing.”

Janis takes her turn to listen, letting him continue.

“Cady grew up with lions and shit. If she thought you were cheating on her she should’ve been angry, not sad. Just based on who she is as a person. There’s something more happening.”

Janis thinks on what he’s said for a second. “Doesn’t trust herself? What do you mean? Doesn’t trust herself not to cheat on me?”

“No, no,” Damian says hastily. He pauses, trying to figure out how to word his point. “I don’t think Cady thinks she deserves you. She doesn’t trust herself to be what you want or need.”

“Am I that bad of a girlfriend? How could she think that? Why wouldn’t she tell me she was feeling like that?” Janis asks, trying to hold back the tears burning her eyes.

“Because you might have told her she was right. You and I know you would never do that, and I think she knows that too. But her anxiety about it overrode her rationality for a while. Cady has a lot going on. And no, you’re not a terrible girlfriend. You’re a pretty good one, actually. This is your first argument, it’s understandable,” Damian comforts.

“I just... I don’t want to lose her. And this is so stupid, why can’t I just-just stop being so angry?” Janis grits out.

“I think it’s fair for you to be angry, honestly. Cady didn’t mean for it to be, but this is kind of an attack on your character. She accused you of cheating,” Damian replies, wrapping and arm around her shoulders.

“I guess. Feels shitty,” Janis mumbles, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder.

“It’s meant to. But try to think of how she’s feeling, too,” Damian says as he rests his cheek on her head. “I had to explain to her why it didn’t make sense for you to cheat, and when it finally sank in the first thing she asked was if you were angry at her. For even thinking you would do that.”

That finally gets the tears from Janis, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes as she feels any lingering anger directed at Cady fade into nothing. “God, Caddy. What do I do, Damian?”

“For now, finish your coffee. She invited you to explain tomorrow, yeah?” Damian asks. Janis nods. “Okay, so tomorrow go over and... do something. I know you didn’t technically do anything wrong, but maybe apologize for... how she took it, I guess? You were acting kind of shady. Make sure she knows you would never cheat, tell her she can trust you, stuff like that. Just take everything one step at a time.”

“Okay,” Janis sniffles. “Is-was she okay?”

“Not at first, I’ll be honest,” Damian replies. “She said she had been watching videos of this monkey and duck who are best friends to try to cheer herself up, and I had to watch two bootlegs with her to even see her smile. But once we had a chat and stuff she seemed a lot more secure. Confident. She’ll probably apologize before you even get a chance.”

Janis gives a watery chuckle at the mention of the inter-species friendship videos. “That’s my girl. Thanks for checking on her.”

“Caddy said the same things. She wanted to know if you were okay, said thanks for even thinking about her.”

“I miss her so much,” Janis sniffs.

Damian takes her hand again. “And that’s how I know this is going to work out. You’re both upset with each other, and yet all both of you can think about is making up so you can be together again.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Y’all are the most disgustingly loving couple I know, you both look at the other like they hung the stars. You two are going to be fine.”

“Okay. I love you,” Janis responds, wiping her tears with her sleeve.

“I love you too. You wanna go play with the birds at the pet store?” Damian asks, hauling himself back onto his crutches.

“You know me too well,” Janis replies with a small grin, following him back to his car.

————-

On Saturday, Cady tells Janis she can come over to finally have a talk. Janis decides to come in through the window for dramatic effect, nearly falling out of the tree she has to climb to do so until Cady hauls her in safely.

“What the hell, Janis? It’s pouring with rain, why didn’t you come in through the door? You could’ve broken your neck,” Cady insists like a worried mother, leaving to fetch her a towel. It’s strange, not immediately pulling her in for a kiss or hug. She doesn’t like it.

“I didn’t, though, and that’s the key,” Janis says, rubbing the towel over her hair quickly. Once that’s done she gestures for Cady to sit on her bed, sitting across from her criss-cross applesauce. She takes a breath to prepare herself, but Cady speaks before she can.

“Janis, I’m so sorry. I don’t-I don’t know what I was thinking, I should’ve known you’d never do that, especially with Regina. I hadn’t slept in two days, I was so irrational,” she bursts out rapidly.

“Hey, Caddy, shh. I’m supposed to be apologizing to you. I understand how that whole thing with Regina might have looked to you, so I’m sorry for that, first of all,” Janis says. “I’m sorry I ever made you think I would do that to you. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you’re not enough for me. I love you. I need you to know I would never even think about cheating. It’s important we trust each other with stuff like that, from now on.”

Cady nods. “I do, I know you would never do that. I trust you, it’s just... Jesus, I don’t even know,” She sighs, burying her face in her hands.

“Cads, hey. Can I touch you?” Janis asks gently, taking her hands when Cady gives a nod and squeezing them. She hates this, it feels like they’re back at square one of their relationship. Maybe they are. “What’s going on?”

“I know Regina has worked on herself, a lot, and I hate feeling like this. But she took Aaron away right when she found out I liked him. What would’ve stopped her from doing it with you?”

“Me,” Janis insists. “I would have stopped it.”

“But what if she’s better for you?!” Cady asks pleadingly. “Regina could take care of you. She’s pretty, and nice now. She’s rich, and smart, and she can do art and stuff too. What- what do I have? I’m just some homeschooled weirdo from Kenya who doesn’t understand people and won’t shut up about math. I-I’m autistic, that’s gonna be hard to deal with sometimes, and in terms of looks I’m not anything special. I want you to have someone who makes you happy. You deserve someone like her. Someone.... someone better.”

“I don’t give a hot, crispy, Kentucky fried fuck what you think I deserve. I know what I want, and I want you. I want my Caddy, my Peanut, my Butterfly,” Janis says passionately, cupping her cheeks and looking into her eyes. “I want your pretty blue eyes and your red hair that smells like cherries and your freckles I can find constellations in. I want my math nerd who does calculus for fun and who can’t do art to save her life but tries anyway because she knows it’ll make me smile. I want my animal lover who makes friends with the squirrels in the woods and didn’t notice a deer followed her on her walk to my house, my girl who can tell me facts I never needed to know about lions and fun stories about Africa. You make me happy. I want you, baby. Nobody else.”

Cady throws herself at Janis, knocking her backwards onto the bed and locking their lips together. Janis kisses her back just as hard, gripping her waist so hard Cady can feel bruises forming. She doesn’t care. She’s flooded with relief at the familiar waxy texture of Janis’ lipstick, the comforting smell of vanilla from her soft skin and the safe feeling of being held in her arms. She pulls back for a split second to breathe before diving back in, gasping as Janis nips her lip and twines their tongues together.

When they finally pull back, Janis just cups Cady’s face to look at her, lips swollen and two-toned hair wild around her. “I’m so sorry,” Cady says, pulling back to sit again and burying herself in Janis’ shoulder when she follows. “I hated fighting, I love you, I’m sorry.”

“The only thing you have to be sorry for is not telling me you were feeling that way. This is only gonna work if we both feel okay about ourselves, and tell each other when we don’t. I’m sorry for not talking with you about this kind of thing sooner. This whole relationship needs to be based on trust and talking to each other, okay?”

Cady nods. “Okay. We both take care of each other?”

“Exactly, my girl,” Janis confirms, grinning as Cady kisses her cheeks. “But ourselves, too.”

“Have you ever felt like this? With me?” Cady asks gently.

“Of course. I wonder every day what I did to deserve you. I was so jealous the whole time you were with Aaron, and I thought you were way out of my league for a long time,” Janis responds, chuckling when Cady pulls back to look at her incredulously. “You’re so beautiful, and so smart. You were queen of the school for a good while, I thought you would at least want someone as smart as you, if not as nice and pretty. When we first got together I spent a lot of time wondering why you didn’t pick Kevin or even Regina over me.”

“Then I’m sorry too. You’re what I want, I love you. I love the way you always smell like paint, I love the one little chunk of hair that always slips into your face,” Cady says, brushing it behind Janis’ ear. “I love the way you’re so tough and strong and yet you cry over the snake food at the pet store and try to steal the dwarf hamsters every time we go. I love how you never let my feet touch the ground when we’re together, and how you seem so cold but give the warmest hugs and softest kisses. I love how you’re the only person who regularly asks for stories about Kenya and never tells me to be quiet, and how you let me ramble about math and at least pretend to be interested even though you don’t understand what I’m on about. I love that you let me call you stupid little nicknames even though it ‘goes against your image’. I love that you’re so passionate about everything, that you care so much about what’s important to you and aren’t afraid to let people know it. I. Love. You. So much. Promise me you’ll tell me if you feel that way again.”

“I promise, baby. I love you too,” Janis responds with tears in her eyes. Cady clings to her tightly, happy they seem to be okay again. They sit like that for a short while, content to be holding each other again.

“Janis?” Cady asks quietly after a moment.

“Yes, Princess?” Janis responds, opening her eyes again.

“What have you been talking with Regina about?”

Janis chuckles, kissing her cheek. “I’ve been trying to come up with something to surprise you with, to celebrate you being valedictorian. Reggie likes party planning and stuff, I thought she might have some ideas.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid,” Cady chuckles. Janis flicks her gently.

“Hey, no you’re not. You’re the valedictorian, for fucks sake. And I did not go about any of this correctly.”

“I didn’t either, I don’t blame you. But you don’t have to get me anything, Jayjay,” Cady mumbles sheepishly as she nuzzles back into Janis.

“I know I don’t have to, I want to,” Janis replies. “You’ve worked so hard, you deserve something.”

“What have you guys come up with?” Cady asks.

“Regina wants to throw you some kind of party, but that’s all we’ve gotten so far. I’m trying to talk her out of some sort of rager,” Janis answers.

“Oh, that sounds fun. But yeah, I don’t want anything big or crazy,” Cady says.

“What do you want? Since it’s not a surprise anymore. Might as well get your input,” Janis says in response.

Cady thinks for a while. “I dunno. Something with food. Maybe outside if it’s a nice day. I trust your judgement.”

“A dangerous choice,” Janis chuckles.

“I know,” Cady giggles. “But really. As long as it’s not anything crazy or expensive I don’t mind what you choose to do.”

“Okay. I can work with that. I love you,” Janis says.

“I love you too. I missed you,” Cady says.

“I missed you too, baby,” Janis responds. “Was torture without you.”

“We really have to do something for Damian, too,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “I would’ve totally spiraled without him.”

“God, yeah, me too,” Janis says. “You think of something to get him, we’ll give it to him on the same day we do your little bash.”

“Okay,” Cady giggles. She goes quiet for a long moment before piping up again. “Janis?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you help me with my English project?”

“Yes,” Janis laughs. “Of course.”

“Thank god.”

————-

“Hey, Cady, can we talk?” Regina stops her in the hallway on her way to study hall.

“Oh god, Regina! Sorry, you scared me. Uh, yeah, are you okay with talking in the bathroom?”

Regina grimaces, but nods. Cady follows her in.

“Regina, I’m sorry, I should never have accused you of trying to steal Janis,” Cady apologizes. “You’ve worked so much on being nicer, and it really shows, I’m sorry I ever thought you would still do something like that.”

“Whoa, Cady,” Regina says. “Um, it’s... fine. I wasn’t expecting you to apologize. I wanted to apologize, I should have been more careful with how Janis and I were meeting and stuff. I don’t know if she’s talked to you yet, but she would never cheat on you, especially with me. I think she still hates me. Please forgive Janis, none of this was her fault.”

“Gina, hey,” Cady comforts. “Janis and I talked this weekend, we’re back together. Everything is okay. We’ve all learned some very valuable lessons. I forgive you.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Regina sighs. “The universe has felt out of balance since you broke up. I was wondering what you guys were going to do to me that could be worse than the Kälteen bars.”

“I’m still sorry about those,” Cady mumbles sheepishly. “Let’s just, like... talk about stuff, in the future? Stop having to have moments like this?”

“Agreed,” Regina says. “You want to hug it out, don’t you?” Cady nods. “Fine. Thirty seconds.”

“I’ll take it,” Cady says happily. “I’ll make a hugger out of you yet.”

————-

“Jayjay!�� Cady calls, leaping on Janis from behind.

“Jesus fuck! Caddy! Don’t do that,” Janis yelps as she turns around.

“Hi,” Cady says, grinning up at her. “I sowwy.”

Janis glares at her. “You’re forgiven. For a kiss.”

Cady happily obliges, reaching her arms around Janis’ neck as she leans up to kiss her sweetly. “Better?”

“For now,” Janis says, pecking her gently again. “Do you want to work on your project? I’ve been freed from planning your little shindig for the day, Regina wanted to go see Damian.”

“Aww, that’s nice of her. I definitely need your help, it’s due on Friday and I only have a couple slides,” Cady says.

“Tits. You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Cady says, lacing their fingers together as Janis leads her to her truck.

Janis flops onto Cady’s bed when they arrive, reaching for her laptop to see what Cady has so far. She bursts out laughing when she sees the only slide Cady’s made.

“What’s so funny?” Cady asks. She’d been pretty sleep deprived by the time she actually got around to putting it together, but thought she had done a pretty good job.

“Did you proofread this at all?” Janis says in between fits of laughter.

“I hadn’t slept in two days at the time, but yes,” Cady replies, almost offended.

“Baby, this just says ‘I’m so tired. Please god let me sleep.’ over and over with a bunch of typos,” Janis says breathlessly, wiping tears of laughter from under her eyes.

“Oh. Oops,” Cady replies. Apparently she’s made less progress than she had thought.

“Next time, pace yourself. You need to sleep, Butterfly,” Janis says, reaching for her. Cady comes to sit on her lap.

“So, what career do you want to do this project on? It’s supposed to be what you want to do when you grow up, right?” Janis asks, holding her close.

“Yeah,” Cady mumbles. “But... I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Oh, baby, that’s okay. I don’t know either,” Janis comforts. “Do you have any ideas of jobs you want?”

“My parents want me to go into zoology, like them,” Cady replies. “And I’ve been... wondering if I should go into medicine. Like Rhys wanted to. Since he couldn’t himself.”

“But what do you want to do?” Janis asks. “I think it’s great that you’re considering medicine for your brother, but if it’s not what you really want then you shouldn’t force yourself into it.”

“I kind of want to teach math,” Cady mumbles shyly. “Like, to college or high school kids. Maybe get my PhD in math and stuff. I think math is fun, I want to help other people have fun with it too.”

“You would be such a good teacher, baby,” Janis comforts, kissing her cheek. “You should absolutely do that if it’s what you want. You’ll be successful enough to make your parents happy, and be doing something you’re interested in. That’s a great fit for you.”

Cady looks more than a little relieved at that, but realizes something. “I’d feel guilty though. I promised I’d become a doctor for Rhys when he died. I just... don’t really want to anymore. I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”

“Butterfly, Rhys would want you to be happy with whatever you choose to do. You already honor him every day just by existing. You’re so smart, and kind, and beautiful. I know you’re already making him proud, you don’t owe him anything else,” Janis reminds her. She never met Rhys, but from everything she’s heard about him she just made a true statement.

“Thank you, Jayjay. I guess if I did get my PhD I’d technically be a doctor,” Cady jokes. “I’ll decide later, I have a couple years.”

“That you do. Unfortunately, becoming a math teacher doesn’t make for a very interesting project, though, so maybe pick a fake career and we’ll look into that,” Janis says.

“I did actually want to be a zoologist when I was really little, we could do that,” Cady says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Janis replies as she kisses her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady responds. “Can we just make out instead?”

“Tempting,” Janis says. “You get one minute of kissing for every half hour.”

“Fine.”

————-

“Hey, Cady, can you go to the mall with us after school today?” Gretchen asks, flanked by Karen.

“Yeah,” Cady responds. “Is this related at all to-“

“No!” Karen insists before she can finish.

“Karen, sweetie, she knows she’s having some kind of party. She just doesn’t know what’s happening specifically,” Gretchen says quietly.

“Oh yeah,” Karen says. “Then yes. They’re going shopping for supplies today and told us to distract you. Confetti emoji.”

“Ah,” Cady giggles. “Yeah, I can go. I’ll meet you guys by the main doors after school?”

“Caucasian thumbs up!” Karen responds, pulling Gretchen away.

“Yeah, we’ll be there!”

“Okay, Sarkisian, what’s this wonderful idea you’ve had?” Regina asks.

“A picnic!” Janis says excitedly. “She wants something with food and something outside. We’ll have a picnic in the park.”

“That... actually doesn’t sound terrible,” Regina says. “So what do we need?”

“A big-ass blanket,” Janis responds as they enter a party store. “And food. And Caddy loves balloons, but we should get those on the day.”

“Who’s gonna make the food, Jan?” Regina asks.

“Jules can, she loves to cook. She’s been wanting to practice stuff anyway,” Janis responds, looking at their selections of plates.

“How is she?” Regina asks quietly. She hasn’t seen Juliana since she and Janis were twelve.

“She’s good,” Janis answers. “Tall as shit, little evil genius. She’s super smart and sarcastic and stuff. She’s big into writing now, too. How’s Kylie been?”

“I... She... I’m...” Regina stutters. “She’s a good kid, but she’s turning into a little version of me. I’m trying to stop her before she gets to where I was.”

Janis hums sadly. “Well, at least you’re a better role model for her now. And you’re both getting the help you need. Kylie was the sweetest little thing last time I saw her, I don’t think she can get to your level.”

“I hope not,” Regina mumbles. “Cady likes yellow, right? We could do white and yellow, that would be cute.”

Janis gets the sense they’re done talking about their families for a reason, now. “Yeah, yellow is her favorite. We could go buy some white sheets from somewhere for cheap and then do yellow plates and shit.”

“Done. I’m buying,” Regina says, grabbing several packs of plates and napkins.

“No! She’s my girlfriend,” Janis protests. “I’m paying.”

“Jan, just let me have this.”

“Fine. ‘S your money,” Janis grumbles.

“Thank you.”

“Hmph.”

Cady, unfortunately, has study hall as her last class of the day in the English wing, so she has to rush to meet Gretchen and Karen by the entrance to the school.

She’s so excited to be spending time with them that she almost runs past them, managing to slow down just before she barrels into Gretchen.

“Hi, sorry,” she says breathlessly. “Who’s driving?”

“I will,” Gretchen offers. Riding with other drivers tends to make her anxious.

“I call shotgun!” Karen calls, already heading to the car. That leaves Cady in the back, which she doesn’t mind.

They put their backpacks in the trunk and hop in, Karen dancing along in her seat to the radio. Cady texts Damian on the ride there, since he had an appointment to check on his foot today. He’d been back in school starting that week, but was still stuck on crutches.

Little Slice: How was the doctor????

Big Slice: Good! I don’t have to use crutches anymore, I just have to wear a boot and go easy on it

Big Slice: No dancing for a while :(

Little Slice: Aw :((( You’ll be back to dancing soon though!!

Little Slice: And yay no more crutches!!!!!!!!!

Big Slice: Yeah now Pippa can’t trip me lmao

Big Slice: Wait aren’t you at the mall??

Little Slice: Yeah, we just got here. I just wanted to check on you 📷

Big Slice: Aw, thanks Cads

Big Slice: Go have fun I’m all good

Little Slice: Okay. Love you 🥰

Big Slice: Love you too, go eat pretzels 🥨

Little Slice: 📷🥨

She chuckles and shuts her phone off, following after her friends into the mall. “Are you guys wanting anything in particular or are we just here for fun?”

“Both!” Karen cheers. “We should totally buy you an outfit for your party. But I also want frozen yogurt.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring any money,” Cady remembers. “But you guys should have fun, I’ll just hang around.”

“No, it’s our treat. We haven’t paid anything for your party,” Gretchen says.

“You guys don’t have to do that,” Cady mumbles. She’s slightly embarrassed by all the attention she’s been getting lately.

“Money bag emoji, let us buy you stuff, Cady. We’re both pretty rich,” Karen says.

“Yeah, come on. Frozen yogurt and one outfit from, like, Forever 21 or something isn’t that expensive anyway, Cades,” Gretchen adds.

“Okay, fine,” Cady begrudgingly agrees. “Let’s do yogurt first, I’m hungry.”

Karen takes both their hands and hauls them towards her favorite shop.

Once they’re sufficiently full of yogurt and toppings, they head to find an outfit for Cady. Gretchen wanders off for a second, leaving Karen and Cady to browse some racks. She comes back with a beautiful white sundress, patterned with yellow flowers.

She shyly approaches Cady, offering the dress. “What do you think of this?”

“Oh, Gretch, this is so pretty! Let me go try it on, it’s beautiful,” Cady squeals, rushing towards the changing rooms. It’s a soft cotton, with a pretty tight bodice and a skirt that flares at her waist, and ends just above her knees. Gretchen seems to have remembered her sizes from their plastic days, the dress fits perfectly.

She opens the curtain to go show her friends, both of them clapping happily and squealing as she spins around. It’s different than it was when they went shopping last year. She can tell their reactions are genuine, rather than just trying to appease her.

“What do you think?” Gretchen asks shyly.

“Gretch, it’s perfect. It’s so soft,” Cady says, looking at herself in the mirror. It has short sleeves, so she might get a little chilly, but she can steal a jacket from Janis. “And, I can wear it to graduation too. It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, good,” Gretchen breathes. She’s working on not needing quite so much external validation, but it’s a slow process.

“You look hot,” Karen adds, making Cady laugh.

“Thanks,” She says, kicking up a heel. “Do you guys want to come over? Watch a movie or something?”

“Totally, that would be fetch,” Gretchen says.

“I’m so glad you still say fetch,” Cady giggles. “Let’s go!”

—————-

A few days later, Janis is typing the final few slides of Cady’s project as her girlfriend lays in her lap and dictates.

“And... you’re done,” Janis says as she enters the last few words. “Now we just need to proofread it and cite your sources.”

“Mmh,” Cady whines. “I hate citing stuff.”

“I hate it too,” Janis says, leaning down to kiss her gently. Cady rests a hand on the back of her head, keeping her close and kissing her back. Janis gives in for a second, before she resists and pulls back. “Stop trying to seduce me into letting you slack off, Peanut.”

“Fine,” Cady huffs as she sits up, still in Janis’ lap as she enters all her sources. “There.”

Janis turns her around to face her. “Good job, baby.”

“Thank you for helping me,” Cady says contently as she nuzzles into her. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much,” Janis hums. “Have you thought of anything to get for Damian, by the way?”

“A couple things,” Cady says. “He mentioned something when you guys were telling me about Phillip last year, um... an... uh-“

“Edible arrangement?” Janis asks with a chuckle, remembering the story.

“Yeah! What are those?” Cady asks.

“They’re like flower bouquets but they’re made of fruit, so you can eat them,” Janis replies.

“Oh. We could make one of those? Does he like them?”

��That would be cute,” Janis says. “He likes fruit a lot, I don’t see why he wouldn’t like one. They can’t be too hard to make.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx us,” Cady jokes. “We should decorate a little vase to put it in, too.”

“Sounds like a plan, Butterfly,” Janis says. “Are you excited for Sunday?” She and Regina had finally gathered everything they would need, and decided to have the picnic on Sunday so Juliana would have Saturday to prep the food, with the assistance of Regina and their moms.

“Yes! I can’t wait to see what you guys came up with,” Cady says happily. “I know it’ll be perfect.”

“Good,” Janis says as she leans in to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Cady teases.

“No way. I love you most.”

“Well... I love you... moster.” Cady stumbles, making them both laugh.

“Okay, fine, you win for today,” Janis chuckles.

“Ha! I win,” Cady says. “My prize is cuddles.”

“I can live with that.”

——————-

Sunday finally rolls around, and Janis is shaking with excitement. She’d spent the day before with Cady, putting together Damian’s thank you gift while Regina and Juliana spent the day cooking at her house.

She and Cady had both wound up absolutely covered in paint from trying to decorate the vase they had picked, and painted a Broadway stage on. Once they had scrubbed most of it off, they decided to start prepping the fruit, neither of them quite understanding how to turn a cantaloupe into a flower. Eventually they got the hang of it, putting together a rather lovely arrangement. Damian would like it, at least.

Cady had mischievously decided to chuck a melon ball at Janis once they had finished putting everything together, so Janis had thrown a grape back. Eventually every piece of the extra fruit they had had been thrown at someone, and they had a delicious mess to clean up.

Her jacket had also gone missing, which was slightly concerning. She had planned on wearing it to the picnic as well, but is wearing a backup since it never turned up.

“Janny. Breathe,” Juliana demands. as Janis is frantically running around trying to make sure everything is in place. They’d bought cheap white sheets and stitched them together to make a massive blanket, which is spread over the soft grass, and bought yellow balloons which are weighing the blanket down at the corners.

Juliana had truly gone all out, prepping almost all of Cady’s favorite foods. All sorts of sandwiches, chocolate covered strawberries, a cheese board, pink lemonade, and even an adorable froggy cake.

“Okay,” Janis says as she teases a deep breath. “You really did a great job, kid, this stuff looks great.”

Julie beams up at her as Janis pulls her into a hug. “Thanks, Janny.”

“Yeah, Jan, chill. Everything’s fine, just wait for your girl,” Regina says, adjusting a bunch of balloons.

“Okay.”

She doesn’t have to wait long, as Damian shows up about ten minutes later with her blindfolded girlfriend in tow. So that’s where her jacket had gone.

He leads Cady to a good place, where she can see the whole spread, before he unties her blindfold.

Cady gasps excitedly, taking everything in for a split second before she runs to jump into Janis’ arms. Janis spins her around as Cady giggles happily, grinning down at her. She pulls Janis down into a kiss as soon as she’s on her feet again, wrapping her arms around her neck and pressing the lips together sweetly.

“Janis, this is beautiful, I love it,” she says as soon as they break apart. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” Janis says quietly, leaning down to kiss her again. They only remember they’re not alone when everyone starts making gagging noises, Juliana somehow already on Damian’s back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cady whispers, giving her one more peck before going to thank Regina and Julie. Regina begrudgingly accepts a hug, and Julie grins happily as Cady wraps her in a tight hug and kisses her cheek. Once that’s been handled she looks around a little more, smiling widely. “Should we give Damian his thing now?”

“Sure,” Janis says, heading to grab it as Damian does a lazy waltz with her sister. He only has to wear the boot for a few more weeks, luckily. “Dame!”

“What? Aww!” He squeals when they hold out his homemade fruit bouquet. “This is so cute.”

“It’s a thank you present, for telling us we were both being idiots but in a nice way,” Janis replies. “Neither of us want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there to talk us down.”

“Aww. I should become a marriage counselor, if I get this kind of stuff every time,” Damian says, eating one of the melon flowers. He gasps with exaggerated drama as they both lean in to smooch one of his cheeks at the same time, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Thanks, Damian,” Cady giggles.

“You’re welcome. When do we get to eat?” Damian asks, cradling his bouquet.

“Once everyone else shows up,” Regina answers, coming over to join their conversation. “Speak of the devil.”

Cady peeks around Damian to see who else has arrived, going to greet the Mathletes, along with Karen and Gretchen with a hug.

She spends the picnic chatting with everyone, but also spends a lot of it stuck close to Janis. She’s either hugging her, in her lap, or holding her hand throughout the whole thing. It’s cute.

Cady and Janis stay behind after everyone else goes home to clean up, deciding to have a moment to themselves first. The sun went down a while ago, so they cuddle up on the blanket and look at the stars.

“I love you,” Cady says quietly after a while, rolling on top of Janis.

“I love you too,” Janis responds as she pulls her down into a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Cady whispers, ghosting the words over Janis’ lips. “Today was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” Janis says. “Now kiss me.”

Cady obliges, cupping her face to kiss her as Janis rests her hands on her waist. Janis flicks her tongue at the seam of her lips, moaning quietly when Cady lets her in and their tongues meet.

They both know they should get to work soon, but for now their responsibilities are allowed to fade into the background. The picnic was wonderful, but not quite worth almost losing one another.

They lose the world in each other, tasting the universe on each other’s lips as the stars twinkle just for them above their heads.

All is well.

hope you enjoyed! this was a prompt fill for Hayeena and Aubrey_Plaza_Stole_HappiestSeason on ao3.

also, translation for the Swahili: ndege wangu mdogo wa wimbo: my little songbird. I have no idea if its accurate, I don't speak Swahili.

requests are still open! please leave them either here, on my ao3 or on my wattpad. all are the same handle, maybeimamuppet.

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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scarlettwitcher · 4 years

Text

Úlfur Minn Part Two

Request: by @laneygthememequeen: Hello lovely! I just saw that youre open to requests and are itching to write something for soft boi geralt! If you’re open to it, can I request a geralt x reader where reader seems like super innocent but is like an actual warrior/badass and he’s just like in awe. Or maybe where the reader is in like a dress for some reason and she usually doesn’t wear dresses because they’re inconvenient for fighting and ends up having to fight in the dress. take care and I hope you have a wonderful day💖

Summary: After Jaskier is finally able to convince Geralt to be his bodyguard for Pavetta’s betrothal dinner, shit goes down and Geralt has to make the decision of whether or not he should tell Y/n how he really feels.

Characters: Geralt, Reader, Jaskier, Calanthe, Eist, Mousesack, Pavetta, Duny, mentions of secondary characters in the show.

Word Count: 3140

Warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of blood, cursing, slight fluff, canon typical warnings

Author’s Note: HOLY CRAP! The love I got for this series was crazy! Thank you all for your support. I’m getting this part out earlier than I usually do since I am going to be busy tonight. I really hope you guys like part two as much as part one. As always, shoutout to my home girl @queenxxxsupreme for being the amazing human she is for helping me! My requests are open, so challenge me and make me write angsty fluff. My taglists are also open so just send me a message if you’d like to be on any list! Happy reading and as always, feedback is always welcome! Love all y’all!

Previously on Úlfur Minn...

“You're not a prude Y/n.” You stood and took a deep breath as you walked around the room with pensive thoughts clouding your head. “Look, I was able to get you a rather beautiful dress and I might've bedded a hairdresser...She agreed to help.” You frowned at Jaskier as you quickly shook your dress.

“Dress? Oh no, no, no. I don't like dresses. You know this Jask.”

“You're gonna have to deal with it Y/n. If Calanthe can wear a dress, then so can you.” You groaned loudly at him as he laughed softly. You nodded at him to show you the dress and thus, you all prepared to attend the dreaded event.

Now...

If you weren’t so occupied trying not to trip on your dress, you would’ve noticed the way Geralt was staring intensely at you. He would never say it to the Bard but the dress he picked for you was perfect. It was a deep red, almost maroon color with a tight corset in the middle. The neckline plunged dangerously close to your chest and the shoulder straps we're hanging to the sides of your arms, the long sleeves skin tight until they reached your hand where it attached to a ring you placed around your fingers. The hairdresser had curled and picked up your hair on the sides, with small jeweled clips holding your hair up. And for jewelry, you opted to wear a small simple necklace Geralt had given you years before. He couldn't help watching you every second he had.

Jaskier walked in and watched everyone before nodding towards Geralt. “Right, so stick close to me, look mean and pretend you’re a mute. Can’t have anyone finding out who you actually are.”

“Geralt of Rivia, the mighty Witcher!.... And Y/n of Skellige!”

“Oh, shit.”

Mousesack walked towards the three of you and smiled widely. “I haven’t seen you since the plague.”

“Good times, Mousesack.”

Mousesack started laughing as he looked at Geralt, shaking his head. “I’ve missed your sour complexion. I feared this would be a dull affair, but now the White Wolf is here, perhaps all is not lost.” He looked at Geralt’s clothes and frowned. “Why are you dressed like a sad silk trader? Geralt looked at Jaskier with irritation.

“What?”

“And Y/n, darling! Where have you been hiding yourself?” You blushed softly and shrugged as you hugged Mousesack tightly. He pulled back to look at you but kept you in his arms. “You always get more beautiful every time I lay my eyes on you especially with that dress." Mousesack took a second to let his eyes wander over your form and you felt yourself cowering just a bit under his gaze, your cheeks flushed.

You could never get used to the way men looked at you. "My oh my, thank the gods for it.” You blushed darkly and giggled as you shook your head.

“It's nice to see you too, Mouse. It's nice to see you never change.”

“Don't tell me you've been traveling with this grumpy man.” You giggled as you looked at Geralt. The way he was looking at you and Mousesack confused you. He looked…. angry, almost jealous.

“He’s actually great company. I enjoy traveling with the Witcher.” Mousesack looked at you before looking at Geralt and then returning his gaze to you, a knowing smirk appearing on his features.

“ Witcher, walk with me.” With that, you took your leave with Jaskier as Geralt watched you walk away. He grunted quietly at Mousesack before reluctantly following him, not wanting to part from you. From the moment you entered the room, the men’s eyes were following your form. He didn't like the way they looked at you. Eyes full of lust and admiration. In Geralt's mind, only he could look at you so but he could never act on his jealousy. He had to step back and watch you alongside everyone else.

“....gen crown for years. A tad rough around the edges, but they’re of the earth. Like me.” Geralt's mind quickly caught back up to the conversation, listening to Mousesack as he spoke.

“Old and crusty. How long before this horse trading is done? I find royalty best taken in…” Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable as he watched all of the royals with caution. “small doses.”

“I wouldn’t count on leaving before dawn. These suitors will vie all night for Princess Pavetta’s hand. Marrying into this monarchy is a mighty prize. Who wouldn’t want to be king of the most powerful force in the land?”

“Hm. So, which one of these little shits is your coin on?”

“Come with me, there’s much for you to see. It’s not a fair bet. That red-headed scanderlout over there, Crach An Craite, will marry Pavetta. The Lioness has already arranged it with the boy’s uncle, Eist Tuirseach. No one would dare make a move on an alliance that powerful.”

Geralt's eyes drifted to Eist before a small smirk painted his lips.“Handy with a blade.” But soon it dropped and was replaced with a scowl as he watched the man make his way to you, watching you laugh at something he said. “And with women, too.” Mousesack followed where his sight was set and laughed, shaking his head.

“All an act. Queen Calanthe refused his proposal three times after King Roegner died, despite the two of them gliding around each other like courting swans.” Geralt watched as you finished speaking with Eist and made your way over to Jaskier as he was cornered by one of the lords. You immediately moved in front of Jaskier, defending him from the lord. The lord grabbed your arm roughly and pulled you away from Jaskier. “No, no, no. She was not living in her husband’s shadow again.” Geralt watched angrily and left Mousesack hanging as he made his way over to you and Jaskier. He reached you first and checked you over silently for a moment before moving to Jaskier’s side.

“Something about you reminds me of a scoundrel I once saw fleeing my wife’s chambers!"

“Um, well…”

“Drop your trousers.”

“What?”

“I didn’t get a proper look at the little shit’s face, but that pimply arse I’d remember anywhere.”

“Well… uh, uh… Ah, Geralt.”

“Forgive me, my lord. This… happens all the time. It’s true, he has the face of a cad and a coward. But, truth be known… he was kicked in the balls by an ox as a child.”

“Well, that’s…tr- true.”

“Apologies.” The lord pulled out a coin with shaky hands and tossed it at the bard. “Here, drown your… sorrows on me, eunuch.” The lord turned to look at you and nodded softly. “And praise you for… sticking with this bard.” You looked at the man wide eyed as he walked away.

“Oh, wow. Thank you. Thank you so much. First of all, you hog all the fanfare, then you go and ruin my courtly reputation.”

“I saved your life. You’re on your own from here on. Try not to get any daggers in your back before dawn.” Geralt took a step back and you joined his side. It was the safest place for the night and you had noticed how uncomfortable he had been since the beginning. You slowly reached up and held his arm as he looked down at you. He clenched his jaw, watching your sweet eyes try to read his. Your presence alone was all the comfort he needed. He grunted at you and moved a tad bit closer to you as his eyes drifted back up to watch the lords. Some were watching the both of you and Geralt glared at them. He felt you shuffle next to him and he knew you hated the attention and decided to distract you and keep your mind off of it. “You look...nice.”

Your eyes snapped up to look at his, wide with surprise. “R-really?” Geralt nodded as he reached up to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He bit his lip before moving to look away from you.

“Thank yo-”

“You lie, you little shite! You never faced so much as a bad meal in your life, never mind a manticore.”

“I’ve had manticores thrice as fat and ugly as you perish under my steel!”

“Under your bullshit, more like. How many stings has it got, then?”

“Two.” You felt Geralt huff a snort next to you and you smiled before whispering. “Are you going to say anything or should I?”

“You? The Y/n wants to say something in a room full of lords?” You mock glared at Geralt and bit your lip.

“Hah! Go away and shite! It’s five. I know.”

“Don't taunt me Úlfur minn. I would when it comes to defending those I deeply care about.” You whispered. You didn't notice the way your words took hold of Geralt's heart and the way he looked at you, too busy at watching the lords argue.

One of the servants alerted Queen Calanthe of Geralt's presence and noticed the both of you in the corner, whispering and laughing with each other. She smirked and dismissed the servant.

“I’ve actually killed one.”

“You-” Before the men could fight, Calanthe’s powerful voice echoed across the room, commanding the attention to her. “Enough! We have a renowned guest here tonight. Perhaps he can declare which esteemed lord is telling the truth.” Everyone’s attention had turned to Geralt and unfortunately, you. You cowered under everyone's gaze and Geralt moved enough to be able to shield you behind him. He hated the way the men looked at you as much as you did.

“Neither.”

“Are you calling me a liar, old man?”

“Aah. The Butcher of Blaviken bleats utter nonsense.” Geralt felt the way you tensed at the title and he knew you were about to defend him. Geralt looked up and caught Jaskier’s eyes. Jaskier shook his head softly as his eyes drifted to you. Geralt swallowed thickly as he clenched his jaw. He slowly reached his arm behind him, out of everyone’s view for you to hold. You held his hand gently as he spoke.

“Perhaps the lords encountered… rare subspecies of manticore.”

“Perhaps our esteemed guest would like to entertain us with how he slayed the elves at the edge of the world?” There were loud cheers and even some men raised their mugs towards Geralt.

“There was no slaying. I had my arse kicked by a ragged band of elves. I was about to have my throat cut when Filavandrel let me go.” Everyone groaned as they looked at the Witcher in disbelief.

“But the song..”

“Yeah, the song.”

“At least when Filavandrel’s blade kissed my throat, I didn’t shit myself. Which is all I can hope for you, good lords. At your final breath, a shitless death.” Geralt raised his cup towards the room as he heard you snort behind him. “But I doubt it.” You couldn't help yourself and you lost yourself to a fit of giggles and Geralt found himself smiling as he took a drink of his ale.

“It would have been your blade at Filavandrel’s throat had you been there, Your Majesty. Not that any elven bastards would crawl from their lair to meet you on the field.” Calanthe’s eyes left the rather intimate scene in front of her to briefly glance at Eist before they returned to Geralt. She smirked as she watched him be protective of you. She found it interesting and wanted to know more.

“Any man willing to paint himself in the shadow of his failures will make for far more interesting conversation this night. Come, Witcher. Take a seat by my side while I change.” Geralt tensed next to you but you rested a hand on his back before whispering for only Geralt to hear.

“Go. Don't worry about me Úlfur minn.”

“Hm.”

You watched as Geralt was escorted to the Calanthe’s royal table. He kept his eyes on you as he sat. You looked around nervously. One of the lords approached you and tried to flirt with you. You were kind and respectful but tried your best to not lead the man on. “Damn this cursed thing. I’d as soon see this night out in armor.”

“As would I.” Geralt grunted out as his eyes never strayed away from you.

“Indeed. Tell me how does a witcher finds himself at my daughter’s wedding feast dressed like a…?” Calanthe laughed before nodding towards you. “And with such a fair maiden like her?”

This made Geralt look away from you and at Calanthe but chose to ignore the latter part of the question. “I’m protecting the bard from vengeful royal cuckolds.”

“Hm! Idiots, the lot of them. Still, I’m glad of your company, which could prove handy. I have no doubt blood will spill here tonight.”

“Ah, save the good Queen’s breath. I’m not for hire as a bodyguard.”

“You were hired just so by the bard.”

“I’m helping the idiot free of his coin.”

“And he’s the idiot? I’m simply saying, surely if all goes to hell here tonight, I can count on you to strategically remove certain irritants that may present themselves? I’d do so myself, only I’m bound to uphold an artifice of decorum and… fairness."

“Hey. I can’t help you.” Geralt’s eyes returned back to you. You were now alone as you looked around the room, feeling lonely. You always hated being alone at events when both of your guys got occupied. You couldn’t go with Jaskier and Geralt was busy with the queen who didn't invite you to sit at the table with them. It was enough to tell you you weren't welcome. You looked up and your eyes locked with Geralt’s. You watched how his face softened as he looked at you.

“So perilously direct. As Queen, I could command it.”

“If I were one of you subjects.”

“I could torture you so very slowly into compliance.” Geralt looked away from you and at Calanthe as he smirked and you easily could've taken it for heavy flirting.

“Her Majesty will do as she wishes. I’m not for turning.”

“Oh, come now. Everyone has their price.” You felt a painful tug at your heart reminding you that he wasn't yours. He was only making sure his friend was okay. As you looked away, Geralt's eyes were back on you and he willed you to look back at him. Calanthe saw this and licked her lips, about to comment again on you when she was presented with Lord Peregrine of Nilfgaard.

You had decided you didn't want to watch anymore of the queen’s shameless flirting. You looked around for Mousesack and made your way over to him as Jaskier started singing one of your favorite songs. You tripped over the dress as you cursed quietly. God, how you hated dresses. Geralt felt his jealousy punch him straight in the face as he watched you laugh at something Mousesack said, obviously teasing you about your dress as he grabbed it, holding in his fingers. You were too innocent and wouldn't have noticed the intense flirting Mousesack was trying to do with you. It was one of the things he loved about you. You were always so innocent, everything was constantly going over your head. He knew it was due to how you were raised and ever since he met you all those years ago, he wanted to protect that innocence.

“How much more of this peacocking must I endure? This… All this because male tradition demands it. If I were a man, I could simply tell the whole lot of them to fuck off, declare outright who Pavetta should marry and have done with it. Or, better yet, let the poor girl decide her own fate.”

“Something tells me this isn’t the first time you’ve navigated the vagaries of male tradition. In fact, I’d wager you thrive on it.”

“Spoken as one who has navigated his own share of fools. Speaking of.” Calanthe pointed towards you as she watched Geralt glare at the druid who held your attention.

“Hm.”

“Tell me, Witcher, why are there so few of you left?”

“Hm.” Geralt sighed as he looked down at the table, knowing that distracting himself with conversation with the queen was better than to watch you with someone else. “It is no longer possible to create more of us, since the sacking of Kaer Morhen. Tell me, Your Majesty… why do you risk your life on the battlefield when you can rest on your throne?”

“Because there is a simplicity in killing monsters, is there not? Seems we are quite the pair, Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt only grunted in response as he took a large sip of his drink. The silence was interrupted by a knight fighting a few guards at the entrance. Geralt watched with a scowl as the knight made his way to the center of the room, getting down on one knee.“Forgive my late intrusion, Your Majesty, and for the misunderstanding with your guards. Please! I come in peace. I need but one moment of your time. I am Lord Urcheon of Erlenwald and I have come to claim your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“A knight… of no renown… from a backwater hamlet… who dares to enter my court without revealing his face?” You glared at Calanthe’s words. You didn't really like the queen but at the moment, you couldn't contain your detest with her. She was hardly ever kind and it bothered you to no end.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. A knight’s oath prevents me from revealing my face until the sounding of the twelfth bell.”

“Bollocks to that.” Eist took a step forward and tugged off Duny’s mask, dropping it in disgust. Everyone gasped as Calanthe stared at Duny, repulsed.

“Witcher, kill it.”

“No.”

“Whatever the price.”

“This is no monster.”

“I order you.”

“This knight has been cursed.”

“You’re as useless as the rest of them. Slay this beast!” Two guards stepped forward but Duny easily beat them as he turned back to Calanthe with desperation.

“Lioness of Cintra, I come to claim what is rightfully mine! Pavetta. By the Law of Surprise.” Before anyone could speak more, more guards appeared and attacked Duny. He carried himself easily as he defeated the guards around him, slashing at them. But as more guards entered the room, he became overpowered and was hit roughly in the face. He fell and rolled onto his back as he stared up at the guard holding a large axe over his head. He panted as he stared up at the guard with fear as he dripped blood from his lips. You growled out in anger at the queen’s disregard for the man’s life. You ran and grabbed his discarded sword as you stood over Duny. “NO!” The guard swung the axe and you swung the sword at the same time, cutting it in half as the axe fell into Duny’s hands. You swung your sword again, slitting the guards throat. He looked at you and nodded, before getting up and looking at all of the guards that surrounded the both of you. Geralt growled in anger at you for putting yourself in such a compromising position. You looked over at him and shook your head, telling him it wasn't the moment for him to scold you. He made his way to your side, almost hovering over you.

“Kill them all!”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @supersassyprobablysad @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @dancingalone21 @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56

The Witcher Tags: @alwayshave-faith @ayamenimthiriel @queenxxxsupreme @stretchkingblog97

Úlfur Minn Tags: @laneygthememequeen @saint-hardy @uncoolcloudyhead @katiejmac @justlovetoreadfics @writingthingsisdifficult

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flowercoasts · 4 years

Note

Hey I saw from your beaujes ao3 fic (which was incredible I already left a comment there but) that you're taking requests and uhhhh I have one: ANYTHING darrow x fjord literally anything. Beaujes is welcome as well. Maybe comphet discovery like the beaujes fic? That would be nice. Just anything fjarrow and fluffy and no content warnings and a happy ending haha

“Hey, mind if I get you a coffee?”

Fjord blinks at Darrow’s proffered hand. “Uh.”

When Darrow smiles, it’s wide and bright, his eyes sparkling in the midmorning sun, glinting off of his shiny armor. It’s almost a little blinding, to be honest, and Fjord has to squint a little to see past the glare.

“Hm… You know -“ Beau elbows him. Fjord whips around to see her raising her eyebrows very pointedly as if to say do it. Behind her, Jester and Nott nod enthusiastically along with matching smiles, while Yasha very unsubtly slides a gold coin over the table.

What? He mouths to her.

Beau points at Darrow. Then sighs at Fjord confused look and points again, gesturing from Fjord to Darrow and back, like that’ll help clear up any confusion.

It doesn’t really, but if they want Fjord to hang out with him there’s no real reason to not go. So, why not?

“Sure,” Fjord replies, side-eyeing Beau for a second more before turning back to Darrow, who’s grinning even wider now, all shiny teeth and bright eyes. Fjord grins back, albeit a little more hesitant as he places his hand in Darrow’s outstretched palm.

With a gentle but strong tug, Darrow pulls Fjord up to standing. “Perfect! I know just the place.”

“Lead the way,” Fjord says, ignoring the snickering of his friends behind him as his ears suddenly warm.

Darrow’s eyes are sparkling as he pulls Fjord through the door of the bakery and out into the open street, their hands still palm to palm, even when Darrow stops pulling and just starts ambling along the road. His hand is warm, the weight of it easing something in Fjord that he can’t quite explain. Probably just the sun feeling so nice on his skin after a while spent in the sun-less Xhorhas. Or maybe it’s a paladin thing. Maybe. Probably.

“How’ve you been, Fjord? Haven’t seen you much since the fight down in Rexxentrum - what brings you to the coast?” Darrow swings their hands lightly between them.

Fjord runs a hand through his hair, averts his gaze from Darrow’s intense eyes. “Oh, you know. Been great, actually, adventuring with my friends and slaying monsters and all that.” When he looks back, Darrow is still staring at him, which is kind of a lot to take in and a bit confusing, if Fjord’s being perfectly honest. He clears his throat. “I’m actually from the coast. Port Damali. We wanted to come back to Nicodranis though, for a little vacation. It gets tiring after a while - we wanted to see something beautiful for once, you know?”

“I do know.” Darrow smiles, and there’s a certain lilt to his mouth as he regards Fjord with a heavy gaze. Briefly, Fjord wonders if all paladins are like this, or if it’s just Darrow. Maybe he should try being more intense like him? “Ah, we’re here.”

‘Here’ is a large wooden building, a small little boutique on the wharf that’s a little worn with age. There’s two large windows that take up practically the whole front of the shop, and flowers grow brightly from the windowsill. It’s a nice place, probably somewhere Cad or Yasha would go, just because of the aesthetic.

Darrow lets go of Fjord’s hand to hold open the door, and Fjord doesn’t examine why his hand feels so empty afterwards. “After you.”

How is his smile so charming? Is that a paladin thing too? “Thanks.”

The inside of the shop is just as quaint and flowery as the outside. Streaming rays of sunlight hit beautiful potted plants sitting on the tables and countertops, which are all a nice birch wood and treated with some sort of shiny blue wax. It’s a nice place - aromatic too, with coffee and light menagerie coast specialty spices in the air. It reminds Fjord a lot of the little places by the beach in Port Damali, the ones he’d go to when they were docked after weeks on the open sea.

A man with long red hair peeks up from under the bar counter, his face lighting up with a grin as soon as he sees Darrow walking in.

“Hey, long time no see!”

Darrow spreads his arms wide, his ever-present grin glowing as he hugs the man from across the long countertop. “Fenriel! It’s been awhile man, how’s everything going?”

“Pretty good, pretty good! Been missing my favorite customer, though.” The man, Fenriel, begins to make a drink, pouring liquids and syrups into a decently sized mug - even though neither of them gave their order yet. “Hey, who’s your friend?”

“This is Fjord.” Darrow turns, and his wide grin softens a bit around the edges. Fjord tries to mimic it.

“Hello. Nice to meet you.”

Fenriel takes one good long look at Fjord, not bothering to hide the way his eyes sweep up and down his body. He turns to Darrow with a smirk. “Handsome.” Then, almost like it never happened, he turns back to Fjord and sticks his hand out. “Nice to meet you Fjord. I’m Fenriel, keeper of the Coffeebean Corner.”

Reaching over the counter to shake Fenriel’s hand, Fjord glances over at Darrow to find his cheeks somewhat red and splotchy. Before he can ask why, Fenriel breaks their handshake to sweep both arms over the countertop grandly.

“Welcome to Coffebean Corner!” He smiles, rapping his knuckles against the grain of the wooden countertop. “What can I get ya?”

“Uh.” Fjord looks to Darrow, who nods encouragingly. “You know what? Surprise me.”

A cheshire cat grin crawls across Fenriel’s face. “That’s what we like to hear. You two can take a table and I’ll bring it over.”

“Thank you. How much -“

Darrow places his hand over Fjord’s, stopping him from reaching into his bag. Fjord looks up and Darrow is smiling kindly at him, eyes still sparkling in that weird charming way of his. “I got it.” With his other hand, Darrow reaches into his pocket and takes out two silver and slides them over the countertop.

Fenriel’s eyes have a glint in them that Fjord can’t parse out, but he takes the coin with a smile and waves over to a table near the window.

Still holding Fjord’s hand, Darrow leads them to the white and blue wood table. He drops Fjord’s hand to pull out their chairs with a flourish and a kind smile. Seriously, is this a paladin thing? The kind smile and nice eyes and handsome face and chivalrous attitude? Fjord should ask sometime. Maybe later, after the blush is down from his cheeks. If it’s a paladin thing, then Darrow’s seriously mastered the art of it.

Fjord clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck to avoid looking at Darrow straight in the eye across the table. “So. This is your favorite coffee place?”

“Mhm. Only place I know that sells Spiced Ginger Coffee.”

“… Spiced Ginger Coffee.”

“Trust me,” Darrow says, smiling at Fjord’s dubious expression. Fenriel walks over then, carrying two large mugs - including the mug he filled earlier when they were talking at the bar.

“Your usual and today’s special for Fjord.” With a wink, Fenriel slides a coffee and a plate full of steaming something in front of Fjord. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks.” Fjord squints down at the plate, which is a cookie shaped like a heart. “I didn’t order this…?”

“On the house.” Taking one long last look at Darrow, Fenriel steps away, back behind the counter to leave the two of them alone with their food and drinks.

The drink in his mug is steaming, and the liquid inside is a pale cream. It’s topped with what looks like shredded nutmeg and… cinnamon? Some other spice that smells nutty and cozy. Very Nicodranis. Fjord takes a cautious sip. Then instantly takes another.

“Good?” Darrow laughs a bit at Fjord’s enthusiasm.

A thumbs up in response as Fjord swallows another big gulp. “Amazing.”

“Wanna try mine?”

Fjord eyes his mug - it certainly looks like a light coffee, but the smell of spices is so present that it’s nearly overpowering. “Hm.” He looks up at Darrow, whose eyes are so soft and open in the sun. “Ah, sure.”

Their fingers brush lightly as Darrow passes his mug over, and Fjord coughs away the blush that rises high on his cheeks. It’s probably just a side effect of the whole paladin thing that he really should ask Darrow about. With one last dubious glance at the drink, Fjord takes a sip.

“What do you think?”

It’s surprisingly rich, creamy, and light all at the same time. The ginger is present enough to taste but not overpowering the drink - it’s honestly amazing. Maybe even better than the other drink. Fjord blinks. “Best drink I’ve ever had.”

“Next time we come here, we can both buy.” Darrow’s smile is nearly as blinding as the sun streaming in through the window. Fjord stares at it, wonders why gold looks so good on him, the soft colors painting his strong jaw so nicely. It’s a warm feeling coming through his chest as he looks at Darrow, who’s still waiting for some sort of response -

Wait.

“Next time?”

Darrow blushes, a beautiful red on his handsome face. “I mean, if you’d like to go on another date.” He rubs at the back of his neck and glances away.

Oh.

Not a paladin thing.

Just a Darrow thing. Which, surprisingly, makes it better. Or maybe not surprisingly. Because Darrow’s handsome, kind, and very charming, and Fjord’s hand is still tingling from where Darrow pressed his palm to it. Warmth fills Fjord’s chest tenfold as he fondly looks at Darrow’s bashful face, who’s looking at the floor.

Fjord smiles and places his hand over Darrow’s, fingers gently intertwining. “I’d like that very much.”

~~~

☕️ also on AO3! kofi link in bio and prompts are open ☕️

#elena talks #prompt #prompt fill #fjarrow #fjord x darrow #critical role #cr fic #cr fanfiction #critical role fanfiction #there will be a part 2!!#this was super fun thanks for the prompt :)#my writing #mine #djarrow

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multishipperlove · 4 years

Note

iiiffff you're still interested in more prompts “Will you carry me to bed?” with Caduceus and any of the mighty nein (I can't decide but maybe Jester or Fjord after a fight?), Platonically

(I went with Jester, hope you enjoy it! Also, at first I had the great image of Jester actually carrying Caduceus, bc lets be honest she’d probably be strong enough to do so, but I still liked it better this way around ;) )

Theyall arrived back at the Xhorhaus absolutely exhausted. Killing anentire wyvern nest that had started to take root in one of the towersof the Lucid Bastion? Not as easy as you'd think. And honestly, whywould you think it was easy in the first place.

Needlessto say, it had taken them some time to even get close to theencounter, and especially Yasha and Beau had struggled with theirpreference for melee fighting. But with some smart use of polymorphand more spellcasting than what would have been strictly necessary,they had eventually managed to drive the pesky beasts out. Killingmost of them, really.

Ithad been worth it at least, they were one favor and a decent amountof platinum richer than they had been this morning. So as soon asthey walked inside the house, everyone just collapsed into a pile inthe living room, tired but satisfied.

Caduceus,somehow as serene as always and seeming not quite as harrowed as hisfriends, managed to throw some food and drink together and had themall in higher spirits again in but half an hour. And through theirchatter and laughter, it was barely noticed that Jester was a lotmore quiet than usual.

Itwasn't surprising, she had pulled every trick in the book during thefight, keeping her friends up left and right with Caduceus' help, anddiving after people more than once when someone had once more managedto stumble off the damn roof.

Shedefintiely wasn't unhappy, Caduceus made sure to keep a bit of an eyeon her. Just tired, and she spend most of the evening leaning againstBeau. So the firbolg assured himself that she was fine, and wouldhopefully be back to her bubbly self after getting some sleep.

Mostof the others seemed to have the same in mind for themselves as well.One after the other they eventually bid each other good night,disappearing upstairs and into their own rooms. It didn't take longuntil Beau, Jester, and Caduceus were the last ones left.

“Alright,I think I'm gonna head to bed as well,” Beau finally stated, beforegently nudging Jester with the shoulder she was still restingagainst. “You coming too, Jesse? You look like you could use anearly night.”

ToCad's surprise, she didn't agree immediately. He'd kind of suspectedthat the only reason she was still down here had been Beau, and thatshe'd just been waiting for her friend to turn in so she could takeher leave as well. They did share a room, after all.

ButJester shook her head slightly, sitting up properly again and givingBeau a tired smile. “No, I think I will stay a bit longer. I'll bequiet when I come in though, promise.”

“Nah,don't worry, you probably won't wake me up anyway,” Beau assuredher, and then stayed quiet for an awkward moment before getting up.It almost seemed like she'd wanted to say something else, but forsome reason didn't. “Well, alright,” she mumbled, giving themboth a wave. “I'll be upstairs then. Sleep well.”

“Youtoo,” Caduceus replied with a nod, and then watched as shedisappeared as well. He was about to stack their plates and head offto the kitchen (washing up could wait until tomorrow, but he didn'twant to leave the room in complete chaos) when Jester got hisattention.

“Hey,Caduceus?”

Heturned to face her again, curious what had made her so soft spokenall of a sudden. “Hm?”

“Doyou want to sit under the tree for a bit?” she asked, soundingalmost hopeful. “Just, you know, look at the stars a bit.”

“Huh.Are there even stars?” he asked. “I don't know what time it is,we probably should have checked in with Caleb about that at somepoint.” In their defence, they had been in Xhorhas for a while.Day- and nighttime tended to get wonky.

But,right, not what she'd been asking. He quickly continued, realizing hehadn't actually given her an answer. “But sure, I would love to situnder the tree with you. Stars or not, it is a rather nice space.”

Thesmile he got in return was nice to see as well, and together theymade their way up the stairs and to the small balcony that hostedtheir huge trade mark sign. At least in this neighbourhood. Theenchanted lightybulbs were still illuminating the tree beautifully,and Caduceus felt himself immediately relax as the scent of dampearth and moss wafted over.

Jesterseemed to react similarly to the tree, though the first thing she didwas walk up close to it and let Sprinkle scurry up the branches. Theweasel easily found a place to curl up, and quickly seemed to fallasleep itself.

AsCaduceus settled down between the roots, leaning back against thethick trunk of the tree behind him, Jester joined him. She leanedagainst him this time, and they both stared out at the never changingnight sky, easily finding the stars Jester had spoken of eariler. Itwas good to know that they had apparently not lost their feeling oftime completely yet.

Itwas quiet. Nice. Caduceus knew that a calm moment with Jester wasrare, but that made him appreciate it even more, seeing as she seemedmore vulnerable in these moments than she usually let on. He wouldnever do anything to betray that kind of trust.

“Caduceus?”she finally asked, her voice still quiet.

“Yes?”

“Todaykinda sucked.”

“Hm.It did, didn't it,” he mumbled, still looking out at the stars. Itdidn't seem like the kind of conversation where you wanted to look atthe other person. “We were successful, though. Is that not worthsomething?”

“Well,sure, but some moments up there really scared me,” she admitted. “Idon't want to loose anyone, not even for a million favors from theBirght Queen. I think you are all worth more than that.”

“That'snice,” he replied softly. “And I am sure everyone would agreethat you are worth more than a million favors from the Bright Queen as well.”

“Evenmore than all the platinum?”

“Allthe platinum in the world couldn't replace your friendship, my dear.”

Hefelt her sigh softly, and press a bit closer to him, and there mighthave even been a quiet sniffle. But he didn't comment on it, insteadletting her think about it for a while. Sometimes, processing newinformation took time, and some privacy. Even if all the privacy shegot was both of them keeping their eyes on the incredibly vastness ofthe universe in front of them.

Finally,she spoke up again, and the small hint of tears was gone from hervoice. Once more, she was just tired, and this time it seemed moreakin to the content he'd felt from the others earlier.

“Hey,Caduceus?”

“Hm?

“Willyou carry me to bed?”

Hechuckled softly, finally turning his head to look at her. She wassmiling again, and wasn't that a beautiful sight.

“Ithink I can do that,” he agreed, right before scooping her up aseasily as he would a sack of potatos, and getting a delighted gigglein return. He was supporting her back and legs with his arms, holdingher close to his chest, and she managed to tuck her head under hischin in a way that kept the horns out of the way.

Bythe time he placed her down on her bed, carful not to wake up Beau inthe process, she was fast asleep.

#critical role #cr2 #caduceus clay #jester lavorre #cr fanfiction #fanfic #writing #mine #prompts #also file under: sprinkle is fine and loves jester #you guys are just mean #ohwormhere

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moiraineswife · 5 years

Text

Between The Boundaries Of Control - A Clayleb Fic

back at it with the Sad Caleb fics, this time with our good soft tea-making cow cleric!! first attempt at clayleb so be gentle please!

Thanks to my Clayleb discord buddies for encouraging the writing and then posting of this, it wouldn’t exist without y’all <3

Title: Between The Boundaries Of Control

Summary: Episode 49-50 missing scene. Since Caduceus was a little preoccupied during Caleb’s confession to the party about his past as Bren, and his relationship with Trent Ikithon, Caleb thought it was only fair to sit him down and catch him up on what he missed.

The drinking of tea, the exorcising of demons, and the discussing of theology transpires as a result. Hurt/Comfort. Angst. Pain. General tws applicable to Trent. There’d be some heavy stuff ahead, beware. Split POV.

Teaser: For all the mud, and clothes, and bandages he was hidden behind, Caleb had rarely felt as naked as he did standing alone in a room with Caduceus Clay. There had been a time that realisation would have terrified him. Now, faced with someone it was impossible to lie to, he found a different way to be, and breathed for the first time since he’d woken. There was some magic to the firbolg, a quiet, hidden kind, perhaps gifted to him by his goddess. It was the magic of hidden pools in deep, ancient forests, older than the world itself, and seemingly untouched by any until the finder’s eyes alighted upon it. The magic of the tall, swaying Zemnian fields he had played in as a child, the stalks towering above him, surrounding him, swaying above him. They had seemed so giant to such a small boy. In that moment, they had filled the entire world for him. Nothing existed but their smell, the sight of them dancing before him, the soft whispering music they played with the wind, and the blanketing sky that lay heavy above them. Yet he had never been afraid there. He had had every right to have felt fear. But he never had. They were his. They were safe. They were home. Somehow, Caduceus made him feel the same way.

Link: AO3

“Mister Clay?”

Caleb had knocked gently on Fjord and Caduceus’ door and pushed it open after hovering there, preparing himself, for several minutes. Given how perceptive the firbolg was, he was fairly certain he knew that, but he was polite enough to give a little start of surprise before turning to face him.

“Hi,” he said, face relaxing into that comfortable smile, his voice its usual slow, calming tone.

He didn’t bother lowering the volume of it, despite the hour, or the fact the rest of the nein were now asleep. Both of them knew that Fjord slept as soundly as the dead of Caduceus’ graveyard. And rather more so than Caleb’s.

Caleb tried to open his mouth, but something seemed to have stolen his voice between being behind the closed door to having opened it. In the dark quiet stillness of the corridor, all inside his head, the words he had planned to say had felt possible. Now, with Caduceus’ almost eerie pale eyes and soft smile on him, with a living person he was supposed to speak those sins to, he wasn’t sure he could do it.

“If you need some time you just go ahead and take it,” Caduceus said softly, seemingly knowing exactly when to fill the silence.

A moment sooner, and Caleb would have felt pressured and clammed up, a moment later, he would have apologised for bothering him and left. Now, he just stood there, stuck, as though the firbolg had used magic to bind him in place.

“It’s alright,” Caduceus continued in that steady, measured voice he had, nodding a little. Strangely, for half a heartbeat, Caleb almost believed him.

Then he cleared his throat, took a breath, and clung to the words he had prepared while standing outside, “If you are not too tired, I would appreciate it if you could join me downstairs. I promise |I will not take up too much of your time.”

“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Caduceus said, pleasantly, “But you can if you need to, I haven’t got anything more important to do tonight as it happens.”

Everything with Caduceus seemed so...Simple to Caleb. So easy. The firbolg was arguably one of the deepest, and by far the most insightful person he had ever met. But for all that, his thought processes were always so straightforward, his words genuine and direct.

Perhaps that is what you could have been, he thought, had you not fucked up so badly you needed a thousand secrets cloaking you just to justify continuing to breathe.

“You head down now,” Caduceus said, interrupting, probably deliberately, Caleb’s increasingly darkening thoughts. “I’ll join you in a few moments, just need to grab a few essentials first.” He nodded at his teapot and cups which, now Caleb looked, were suspiciously handy, as though he had known this meeting was coming, and had prepared for it.

There was something distinctly disarming about Caduceus. He was so polite, and agreeable, and quietly charming in his own soft, slow way, that it was easy to forget how perceptive he could be. Caleb feared being alone with him, when all the things he had worked so carefully to conceal beneath the mask of dirt and obscurity became an open book before his piercing eyes.

Reading the look on Caleb’s face he gave a half shrug and said, “Just kind of figured this would be the kind of talk it’s best to have over some tea.”

“You are not wrong,” Caleb mumbled, though privately feeling he would like to add some of Nott’s liquor to the tea.

Caduceus was watching him as though he knew that, too, and had considered the wisdom of it and decided against.

For all the mud, and clothes, and bandages he was hidden behind, Caleb had rarely felt as naked as he did standing alone in a room with Caduceus Clay.

There had been a time that realisation would have terrified him.

Now, faced with someone it was impossible to lie to, he found a different way to be, and breathed for the first time since he’d woken.

There was some magic to the firbolg, a quiet, hidden kind, perhaps gifted to him by his goddess. It was the magic of hidden pools in deep, ancient forests, older than the world itself, and seemingly untouched by any until the finder’s eyes alighted upon it.

The magic of the tall, swaying Zemnian fields he had played in as a child, the stalks towering above him, surrounding him, swaying above him. They had seemed so giant to such a small boy. In that moment, they had filled the entire world for him.

Nothing existed but their smell, the sight of them dancing before him, the soft whispering music they played with the wind, and the blanketing sky that lay heavy above them.

Yet he had never been afraid there. He had had every right to have felt fear. But he never had. They were his. They were safe. They were home.

Somehow, Caduceus made him feel the same way.

He held out his hand and accepted the cups Caduceus wordlessly passed to him. They headed downstairs to the now empty common room. For someone so large, Caleb noted, Caduceus moved almost entirely silently, especially out of his armour, stripped down to only loose trousers and shirt.

Glancing down, Caleb saw, instead of the feet he expected, large, soft padded paws, entirely bare, save for the light dusting of fur.

“Aren’t you cold?” Caleb blurted out, unable to banish memories of his frozen fingers and feet on the many nights he’d slept out in the freezing air alone.

Caduceus blinked and followed Caleb’s gaze then smiled slightly, “Can’t say I really notice. I suppose if I were, I’d have put shoes on.”

Caleb couldn’t argue with that, and couldn’t think of any kind of response, so he just turned round and continued walking down the stairs.

The common room was almost completely dark, and Caleb automatically sent a few globules of light into the air before sinking into the deep recesses of a sagging couch and watching Caduceus stoke the fire for their tea.

Sparks burst like constellations of stars tossed casually into the waiting darkness, snuffed out again as quickly as they appeared. They burned so brightly, so beautifully, but in the end, they were meaningless and cold.

Like me.

He watched in silence as Caduceus took his time brewing their tea. The longer he could stall, could allow this good man to believe he was in the company of an equal, the better.

Finally, Caduceus had lifted the pot from the fire, poured the steaming tea into both cups, and handed one to Caleb.

There was nothing to hide behind anymore. Nothing to delay him.

Caduceus sat down beside him and waited patiently, legs crossed, tail curled neatly around him.

“I thought,” Caleb said, forcing each word out as though it was his last before his execution, “That I should also share with you what I told the others earlier today, which I think you missed.”

“I caught bits and pieces,” Caduceus nodded, “But I will admit, I was more focused on keeping us on the road, stopping us being attacked by giant worm creatures. It’s okay, though,” he added, “Seemed like some heavy stuff, you don’t have to go through it all again on my account.”

“I think that I do,” Caleb replied, stiffly, “You have the right to know exactly who, exactly what,” he added, jerkily, “You are travelling with.”

“Oh, I’m pretty comfy with that,” Cad replied agreeably, smiling a little.

“You might not be if you knew what I had done,” he said, voice brittle.

Of all the ways he had expected this conversation to go, Caduceus fighting with him about hearing it in the first place hadn’t factored into any of his preparations.

“I don’t know if that’s really that important,” Caduceus said, mildly, a slight frown creasing his soft, broad face, “I know what you do, that’s enough for me to understand you as a fundamentally good person.”

“The world is larger than your graveyard,” Caleb snapped, “It will not coddle you forever, let you believe the best in people because you did not want to probe beneath their surface and get to know them. It will punish you for that, and soon.”

He didn’t know where this was coming from, but it was bubbling out of him in the face of Caduceus’ calm idealism as surely as oil would draw a spark to burn.

“The world is filled with dark, and horrible things,” he told him, “You are looking at one of them now. It’s time you learned to see them.”

Caduceus cocked his head slightly to one side, his ears flicking, as though bothered by a fly, and considered Caleb. He considered him for so long in patient silence that Caleb felt shame and regret for his words creeping into him, sending a red flush from his neck into his cheeks.

He cursed softly in Zemnian, then apologised.

“It’s alright,” Caduceus said, comfortably.

Caleb wondered, fleetingly, what it would take to rouse any kind of anger in the mild-mannered firbolg. He doubted any of them could ever say anything to push him away.

“You say what you need to say, Mister Caleb,” Caduceus said placidly.

Caleb took a shaky breath, lacing his fingers together in his lap and stared into the still flickering fire. Even after all the damage he had done with it, he still found a fascinating beauty in the endless, undulating shapes.

And it felt so much easier to cast the darker spots of his soul into the ravaging heat than Caduceus’ ghostly eyes.

“You know me as Caleb Widogast, but before, when the world had big plans for me to be something, to do something important,” he took a deep, trembling breath, then said, “My name was Bren Aldric Ermendrud.”

***

Caduceus nodded evenly, his ears flicking.

Finally, when it became clear that Caleb expected some sort of response, he said, “D’you want me to call you Bren, or is Caleb still good?”

“I- Caleb, Caleb is fine, for now.”

He was squinting almost suspiciously at Caduceus, as though he felt he was lulling him into a false sense of security. He couldn’t think what purpose he’d have for that, but people thought strange things sometimes.

Caduceus maintained his polite silence, peering pleasantly at Caleb as he did so. He’d found, often, that silence often brought more answers than nettling. He didn’t think Caleb’s restraint would last long in his present state.

After a few more tense, pregnant seconds, Caleb burst out, “Don’t you have questions?”

“Not really,” Caduceus shrugged mildly.

He was sure there was a reason, probably a very good one, now called himself Caleb, but it didn’t much matter to him at the moment.

Caleb stared at him as though he’d just grown an extra head. He checked, just to be sure, then said, “Should I?”

Caleb watched him for a long moment, apparently trying to decide if he was mocking him. He wasn’t.

Caleb seemed to come to that conclusion, too, because he said at last, “You are a very strange man, Caduceus Clay.”

Caduceus smiled pleasantly at that. “Oh, I think we’re all strange in our own way. You see that a lot, where I’m from.”

“A graveyard?” Caleb said, his face scrunching up in that way it did when he was confused, his words lightly touched with scepticism.

“Sure,” Caduceus replied easily, “Death has a way of making people vulnerable.”

“In my experience, it simply makes them dead,” Caleb muttered drily under his breath.

“That too,” Caduceus agreed, seriously, “But the people they leave behind,” Caleb twitched uncomfortably, but didn’t speak. Caduceus shifted into a more comfortable position, letting Caleb gather himself without eyes on him for a moment, then he said, “Grief makes everyone look different on the outside, but I think it affects everyone just the same. There’s no magic, or potion, or spell that will make a person half as honest or genuine as true grief.”

“I...Am not sure where you are going with all of this,” Caleb said, slowly.

Caduceus smiled again, “You’re blunt. I like that,” he informed him, nodding. “A person’s soul is seen most clearly when they’re in pain,” he said, quietly.

No doubt, that was why he’d always been able to see right through Caleb, regardless of how hard he tried to hide himself. Caleb seemed to sense the truth of that himself, because he caught Caduceus’ eyes then looked away again.

“Some of them try to hide it,” he went on, “They put up walls, and masks, and all sorts, but you can always see, can always tell who they are underneath it all. Whatever they try to hide can sometimes tell you more about them than the thing they’ve hidden.”

Caleb shivered slightly, and Frumpkin appeared, trotting around the edge of his chair, winding his way comfortingly around Caleb’s legs.

Caduceus looked right at him, then said quietly, “You’ve suffered your own grief, your own pain. I can see that. The world can see that. You can hide exactly what it is but...Everyone knows all the same.”

Caleb swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. A moment later, Frumpkin leapt lightly onto his lap, and Caleb buried his hands in his thick fur, seeking the reassurance of his familiar.

“Caleb Widogast is just the mask you made to protect yourself from the world, and the world from you. But it’s still you. It’s not my place to judge you for that, or to know exactly why Caleb came to be in the first place.”

Caleb blinked at him, a faint crease between his eyes, as though he had never thought of this before.

“I met a wizard called Caleb one day. Since then, he’s been kind to me, and he’s tried to do good. I think after everything I’ve seen, all the people I’ve met, I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. I trust my gut, and I trust you, Caleb. I don’t need to know anymore than that to think you’re a good person.”

They were quiet for a long time, Caduceus smiling pleasantly, Caleb gazing down at his tea, Frumpkin kneading his coat, processing.

“Most people want to know,” Caleb said, finally. “Everyone you meet, everyone you ever will, and all those you never do, they al have a story. Parts of mine are written on me. On my skin,” his fingers brushed unconsciously over the bandaging on his arms, “On my face. In my eyes.”

Caduceus nodded gently. It was rare that a person who hid themselves as completely as Caleb, and weren’t aware of what showed through the cracks in their mask.

“When you give a person half a story, natural curiosity leads them to want to know the rest.”

Caduceus smiled rather sadly at that. “My life has been filled with sad, unfinished stories from the day I was born. Every body in our graveyard was once a person with memories, and dreams, and mistakes, and stories I can never know. They might have been good people, or bad people, or more likely somewhere in between. They might have been rich, they might have been beggars. I’ll never know. None of that matters. We look after them all just the same, and the earth they’re laid in does likewise.”

Caleb was watching him with a quiet thoughtfulness, soaking in his words the way he would sit and focus on his books and drink in their words.

“People come to us every day, to bury, or grieve, or just remember. They come with their souls bared, and carry the darkest parts of their stories in their eyes. I can’t know them all. I can’t carry all their stories, and all their sadness. I’d have gone mad a long time ago if I’d even tried.”

Caleb nodded vaguely, “I understand,” he muttered, more to himself than to Caduceus.

That was okay.

When he prepared to rise from his chair, however, Caduceus went on, stalling him.

“There are some people, though, with stories that they show because they’re tearing them apart from the inside. Some people need to talk, need to tell, and share their burdens because they can’t carry them alone anymore.”

He met Caleb’s flickering gaze with his own steady one. Then he pushed the cup towards him and said, simply, “That’s what the tea is for.”

Caleb stared at him for a long time before a hoarse laugh huffed from him. It was quickly stifled, but left behind a faint half-smile.

He peered into his tea again, then asked with a twist of ironic humour, “Do you ever serve relatives tea made from their families?”

“Sure,” Caduceus said comfortably, smiling a little at the start of surprise in Caleb, who had obviously expected him to say no. “That’s their right. It usually seems appropriate,” he trailed off, considering, then added in a low mumble, “Not always appropriate to tell them that, though.”

“Who am I drinking?” Caleb asked with an open, genuine curiosity that was slightly marred by a grimace a moment later as he seemed to hear exactly what he’d just said.

“Mm,” Caduceus said, considering, having a sip and sucking in the right flavour. He had picked by smell, what had felt right when Caleb had knocked on his door. “This is Briarwood tea, if I’m not much mistaken,” he said, taking another drink. “Old family,” he mumbled, nodding slowly, “Not had any new ones for a while.”

“They make good tea,” Caleb observed lightly.

“They sure do,” Caduceus agreed with another slow smile. “Horrible people though, so I’ve heard.”

Once again, they sat together in companionable silence, sipping their tea.

Caduceus broke it by nudging, gently, “So, uh, what plans did the world have for Bren?”

Caleb stiffened, fingers flexing instinctively, as though he had to hold on to the chair to keep himself in it. He took another shaky sip of tea, then said, “There is an elite school of magic known as the Soltryce Academy in Rexxentrum. I was educated there as a young man.”

Caduceus nodded encouragingly to show he was listening, but didn’t speak. He had seen the blank, wide-eyed look on Caleb’s face before. It was the look of someone who was both here and a thousand miles and several decades away at the same time.

Any interruption would clam him up and cause damage that would be very difficult to fix. This kind of thing was like purging a poison. The important thing was to get it out before it killed him.

That was why Caduceus was here, to help guide it out.

***

“I had only been at the Academy for a few months when an older mage, a teacher, and member of the Cerberus Assembly named Trent Ikithon took an interest in me.”

Caleb tensed instinctively, and for a moment he froze and closed his eyes. Then he regretted it, and snapped them open. But not quickly enough to avoid the bursting image of the face he thought would haunt him long after Caduceus’ earth had turned his body to fungus.

“He was...Charming,” he said, breathless, “Always, very charming,” he said, his words starting to slip just a little, coming faster than he’d intended.

He’d always thought he had good self-control, that Trent had trained him better than this. Lies. All of that was lies. Everything he had ever seen in himself, everything anyone had ever seen, it had all been a lie.

“He was a very talented mage, a master of his craft. I was a nothing,” he gave a little twitchy shrug, shaking his head. “One step above a beggar, from a nothing town. I was young. I had stood out among my peers, he said. I thought then that I was invincible, and fabulously intelligent, and that the world was mine for the taking.” He trailed off, sinking into a pit of self-disgust.

He coughed a little clearing his throat and continuing as though he could be calm when talking about this, “His interest in me was flattering. The idea that someone like him could be interested in someone like me...” He shook his head.

He had chosen him well. At that age, he had had just enough innate talent and confidence in himself to believe he could be special, while still needing the validation and encouragement Trent provided.

And ambition. Yes. He’d had just enough ambition to see the opportunity to be better, better than where he had come from. As if he could ever be better than the best people he had ever known.

He had been stupid. Stupid, and greedy, and weak.

Caleb jumped slightly as Caduceus patted his arm with a huge but gentle hand, “Drink your tea before it gets cold,” he said softly, and Caleb realised he had gotten lost in the twisted mess that was his mind again.

He did as Caduceus suggested and took another sip of tea. It warmed him, and soothed him at once.

“Anyway,” he muttered, determined to finish what he’d started now. “He called me in to meet him privately. He asked me many questions and he, he seemed genuinely curious, genuinely interested in me, and proud of what I had learned and achieved.”

He had always been proud. Even when he had failed, let him down. Sometimes he would be angry, and rightly so, given how badly he’d fucked up. But once his anger, and the punishments it had made him give out, passed he had always told Caleb that he was proud of him, and that he just had to try a little harder next time.

He had always promised that he would.

“Eventually,” Caleb said, drawing in a rough, rattling breath with difficulty, “He took me, and two others, into his own private classes. He trained us and he, he experimented on us,” he shivered at the memories.

The pains still woke him in the night. The screams...

“Experimented?” Caduceus prompted him gently.

He realised he’d been staring into the fire, reliving the sessions, for how long, he didn’t know.

Clearing his throat, he said, “He, ah, put crystals into our skin. Like this,” he gently tapped the large pink crystal at the top of Caduceus’ staff.

“Into you?”Caduceus repeated, brow furrowing.

“Ja,” Caleb said, a little hoarsely.

Unable to find the words, again, he unwrapped one of his bandages to show Caduceus. The firbolg stared at him with sad eyes, reached out, then stopped himself.

“May I?”

Caleb nodded wordlessly.

Caduceus gently brushed his fingers over the pale scars, bumping over some of the more pronounced ones. Most of them were nearly invisible, he doubted that anyone who didn’t know to look for them would notice them. But he knew. And he could never not stare at them, feel them, and the memories that connected to them when they were uncovered.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Caleb,” Caduceus said, solemnly.

Caleb opened his mouth to protest, but the big firbolg continued, “If you want I could, uh, try and do something about these,” he said, blinking with concern, “I’m not sure if any of my magic could help, but a cream, an oil, or-“

“No,” Caleb said, too quickly. “No,” he repeated, more calmly this time. His fingers ghosted absently over one of the exposed scars as he spoke. “I- Thank you, Caduceus, it is a kind offer but no that, that is not necessary.”

If the scars were removed he would feel too...Too clean, too perfect. It would be unreal and, strangely, would feel the same as destroying an ancient and unique historical text. The marks were painful, and he did not want to look at them, or have others look at them. But they were a part of him. An ugly, broken part, but a part all the same. He would feel wrong without them.

Caduceus made him jump as he reached over and patted Caleb gently on the shoulder, nearly causing him to pour his tea all over himself.

“He was a monster, you know,” he said, solemnly.

“There are a lot of monsters in this world,” he said seriously, “And the real ones are never what we warn our children about.” Caleb shook his head jerkily and said, feeling suddenly a little breathless, “He was not a monster, not truly. He was just a man, a man in the middle of a war with, with a lot of responsibilities. He had to make difficult decisions for the good of the empire and...And he did.”

He could sense Caduceus looking at him and deliberately stared into the fire to avoid his gaze, swallowing hard. He did not want to see the disgust or pity he would find there. He did not deserve it.

“He hurt you,” Caduceus said, carefully, “maybe he had a duty to protect Wildemount, but he had a duty to protect you, too, surely, as your mentor. And he hurt you instead. That was wrong.”

Caleb let out an involuntary snort of humourless laughter, “Me?” he said. “What was I to him? I was a nothing, an o-one, a stupid peasant boy with dreams too big for his station. I did not matter compared to a continent, a war. What was I to an empire?”

“A person,” Caduceus said, with that simple, blunt honesty of his. “You were a person.”

Caleb scoffed again at that and muttered under his breath, “Not a very good one.”

“You didn’t deserve that,” he said quietly, “No-one deserves that,” he said, glancing towards Caleb’s arms again. He shook his big head sadly, ears drooping, his voice low and heavy.

“I agreed to it, you know,” Caleb said, suddenly, inexplicably defensive, “I needed to be stronger. He needed me to be stronger. He needed me, and I, I said yes.”

Take them out! Take them out!

He had screamed that, had begged him over and over and over again. But of course, he had not taken them out. Not in the middle of it all.

He had held him, though, afterwards. He had held him, and stroked his hair, the way his mother used to do. He had told him how well he’d done, what a good boy he had been, how proud he was of him.

Just like that, all of the pain had been worth it.

Now, in the flickering semi-darkness of the inn’s common room, the memory made him feel slightly sick.

“It didn’t pan out you know, at the Academy,” he said mechanically, feeling some kind of compulsion to just keep talking, to not let the silence close in on him now, as it so often had, knowing what would come from it. “Things...Happened,” he muttered, evasively, and Caduceus just nodded, apparently not even considering pushing him. “And I went a little crazy for a while there. Then I met Nott, then the rest of them, and then you.”

Caduceus was quiet for so long, periodically sipping his tea that, had it not been for that, Caleb might have thought he had fallen asleep. Yet his eyes remained open, looking down into his tea.

At last, he said, slowly, “What now, then? I mean,” he added, seeing the sight frown of confusion on Caleb’s face, “With Trent, and the Academy, and everything. Do you want revenge, or-“

Caleb shook his head violently at that, his hands flexing convulsively again.

“I,” he rasped, hoarsely, “I do not ever want to see that man again as long as I live,” he whispered fervently.

He remembered only too well the sheer, blinding terror that had possessed him when he had realised he was there at the Victory Pit in Zadash. He never wanted to feel that again, that frozen, paralysing fear. All he wanted was to be invisible. To get more powerful, quietly. To put right the terrible things he had done and then...Then finally get what he deserved.

“Because you’re afraid of what you might do?” Caduceus prompted gently.

“No,” Caleb replied. He was staring into the fire once more, allowing the hypnotic power of the flames to draw him in. Almost trance-like, he said, “Because I know exactly what I will do if I ever come face to face with that man again.”

He could see it. He could picture it so clearly he swore he could almost feel it. As though it was a memory, not a fantasy.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath and said, voice wavering between the boundaries of his control, “I would get down on my knees in the dirt in front of him. And I would look up at him, and beg for his forgiveness, and promise to do better for him in the future.”

His voice broke. He closed his eyes and buried his fingers into Frumpkin’s thick, soft fur.

He was shaking so violently he felt as he had on the streets that winter, shivering and freezing, on the verge of death. But he would sooner go back to that than the Academy. To Trent. He couldn’t go back there. He had failed. He had fucked it all up. He was weak, and he was stupid, and scared, and pathetic.

He could not go back.

They would kill him, and he couldn’t die until he had fixed what he’d done, he’d decided that.

With a start, he looked up at Caduceus whom he’d almost forgotten was there as he said, “Huh.”

“What?” Caleb snapped, a little more sharply than he’d intended because of how much he’d managed to work himself up, and because Caduceus’ final reaction seemed so inadequate in terms of everything else that he had confessed to him.

“I think I’m finally starting to understand why the Wildmother sent me to you.”

Caleb stared blankly at him before managing to get out, jerkily, “I don’t understand.”

“Well,” Caduceus began, politely, “You’re maybe going to wind up in a bad situation down the road, one that could lead you into making some very bad decisions, and I figure, with the way things are going, I’ll be there to help stop that from happening.”

He said all of this so simply, as though it was as plain and obvious as adding two and two and coming out with four.

Caleb stared incredulously at him, sure he had misunderstood, despite Caduceus’ very clear explanation.

“You believe,” he said, trying, and largely failing, to keep any hint of sarcasm from his voice. “That your goddess thinks so little of you that she sent you out with a bunch of arseholes like us because your destiny is to protect me from getting exactly what I deserve?”

“Sure,” Caduceus said, nodding comfortably.

If he had been anyone else, Caleb would have been sure he was mocking him, but he couldn’t bring himself to really believe that Caduceus had it in him to even consider that, especially in a situation like this.

“Destiny is a funny thing, at least the way I think of it,” he explained evenly. “It’s not so much a singular goal that your entire life is driven towards. I figure it’s more a kind of path you’re supposed to go down. Sometimes we get a little lost, and that’s when the Wildmother just gives me just a little nudge in the right direction.” He smiled placidly at Caleb, gave a little half-shrug and added, “On this path she’s put me down, I’ll be there when you have that moment of confrontation and I’ll be able to protect you from yourself. And him.”

There was a long, heavy silence, in which Caleb stared into Caduceus’ pale, guileless eyes, and tried, almost desperately, to wring some kind of lie or judgement from them. When he couldn’t, he crumbled.

“Why?” he said, hoarsely, “Why would you want to do that? Protect me of all people when there are others out there much more deserving of your time and help?”

“It’s not always a case of want, you know,” Caduceus replied, frowning a little as though he hadn’t really ever stopped to consider what he wanted when it came to his goddess. “I trust the Wildmother, for myself, and for all the things that are much bigger than me. I follow where she leads.”

“Wherever she leads?” Caleb pressed him, pointedly. “What if she led you to do something terrible that was entirely against your own moral beliefs?”

He expected Caduceus to argue that the Wildmother would never ask anything like that of him, and that was why he trusted her so completely. But the big firbolg just smiled gently and said, “I guess that’s why it’s faith.”

Caleb didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.

“And secondly, not a lot of people get what they deserve in my experience. I’ve buried good people before, young people, even children, and I’ve heard that bad people, sometimes the ones that put them there, live long, full, happy lives. I’m not a very smart person,”

Caleb opened his mouth automatically to protest, but Caduceus didn’t seem particularly bothered by it. It was merely a simple statement, like most everything else.

“I don’t really know, but I don’t think life is about getting what we deserve, good or bad.” He frowned slightly, then added, as an afterthought, “Not too sure what it is about, but I don’t think it’s that.”

Caleb sat in stunned silence for a moment, then he said quietly, “How can you have faith in your goddess when she allows you to live in a world like that?” he said, voice brittle. “If she was worth following and believing in, wouldn’t she try to fix that injustice? To bring some more order to the world?”

Caduceus didn’t seem in the least offended by these brusque comments. On the contrary, he chuckled in a low, bass rumble.

“Oh, no, that’s not really what she does. She’s more concerned with nature, and keeping that right. Things live, and then they die. Big things eat little things so they can survive. Seasons come, and go. And there’s a little chaos in there, too, because you can never really control nature. That’s why it’s there. Keeps us all humble. Whether you’re a god, or a beetle, you can’t stop the rain from falling, or the winds from blowing. And the earth will outlast you. Best you can do is try and make sure that it remembers you fondly once you’re gone.”

Caleb studied him a long time before saying quietly, “I think you are wrong about one thing, my friend. I think you are a very smart person.”

“Oh,” Caduceus’ big face split suddenly in a wide smile. “Well thank you, that’s very kind of you to say that.”

“I do not think your earth will remember me kindly,” Caleb muttered without thinking, gazing into the depths of his tea. “I don’t really think anything will.”

“I would,” Caduceus replied, so simply it was impossible for the words to be anything but sincere. “I think a lot of people would. One of the saddest things about dying is that, a lot of the time, people don’t realise the impact they have until they’re gone. And then they’re not around to realise it anymore.”

“I can assure you,” Caleb said, voice shaking despite his best efforts to keep it steady, “I have not had any kind of impact on anything that will be missed.”

“If you think about it, I think you know that’s not true,” he said quietly.

Caduceus fixed him with that eerie, ghostly pale gaze that made Caleb feel as though he was peering beyond skin, and flesh, and bone, into the very soul of him. What little he had left.

He squirmed uncomfortably.

“Perhaps if I were to drop dead this very moment-“

“I mean, I wouldn’t let that happen. I’m pretty good about that. But go on.”

“Perhaps I would be truly missed by this little group of ours,” he grimaced and took a deep breath. “But that is because none of you have been with me long enough to realise I will hurt you all in the end. I am a poison that eats away at you, and by the time you realise that, it is too late.”

“Well, that’s an unpleasant idea, certainly,” Caduceus muttered, shaking his head slightly, with water trapped in its ears. “But you don’t get to decide the effect you have on people. And you might be smart, much smarter than me, but you aren’t always the smartest person in the room, and you’re not always right. ‘Specially about things like this.”

“Well, we will see,” Caleb muttered darkly, now staring at his hands.

“We will,” Caduceus agreed.

He patted Caleb gently on the shoulder, “You can’t see the truth of what happened before right now, and that’s okay. But someday, hopefully someday soon, you’ll be ready, and you will. It’ll hurt you. It’ll come close to ruining you. If you survive it, you won’t be the same person anymore. But you’ll be able to start moving on, and letting scars form where you don’t even see wounds yet, ‘cause they’re ones you have to make yourself to get this out of you. But you will.”

He smiled and got to his feet unexpectedly.

“I’ve got a good feeling about you, Caleb Widogast. Yeah. A good feeling.”

He turned and began to amble back towards the stairs.

“You speak as though you have some experience with this,” Caleb said, needing to say something instead of facing what Caduceus had just laid bare before him, and fell back on deflecting it back towards him.

“Yeah. I do know some things,” Caduceus replied with a strange, agreeable vagueness that was so unique to him. “And I’ll be there for you when this all hits you. And I think the rest of them, they’ll be there too, even if you don’t want them. Maybe especially if you don’t want them,” he added, after a short pause, “Because that means you need them.”

Nodding to himself, he continued to pad up the stairs, humming gently to himself, leaving Caleb alone by the fire in the empty common room, absently petting the quietly purring Frumpkin.

He watched the fire until it burned down to embers and finally to ash, leaving the room in darkness.

If Caduceus knew what he had done, he might feel less comfortable in helping him. Maybe that was all Caleb would be to him, in the end, a test of faith. A task so repulsive it made him question his Wildmother.

Yet, somehow, he couldn’t banish the thought that perhaps Caduceus could be right. Perhaps there was something more to the two of them being on this path together. After everything that had happened, he didn’t believe in fate or destiny. He didn’t believe in anything.

But, he thought as he slowly climbed the stairs following the ghosts of Caduceus’ footsteps, if he ever was to believe anyone, or anything again, he could do a lot worse than Caduceus Clay.

***

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wazafam · 3 years

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For the past five years, the residents of Bravo's Summer House have invaded the easternmost tip of Long Island, NY to escape the hustle and bustle of work-week Manhattan. In season 5, filmed during the pandemic, they're sequestering together for the whole summer, amping up the tension and heightening the outbursts.

RELATED: Summer House: Where To Find The Cast On Instagram (Season 5)

Since the reality show premiered in 2017, the cast has changed some, but the drama has remained the same. Of course, a number of these up-and-coming professionals stand out from the rest, if only to prove that even with youth and beauty, the struggle can still be real.

10 Luke Gulbranson

He may be the worst of the best, but Luke brought inter-house dating/two-timing into the mix as well as an argument that was one tequila shot away from turning into a brawl. OG cast member Kyle Cooke took umbrage with the Northern Minnesota native's treatment of women, as he'd been playing both Hannah Berner and newbie Ciara Miller. (Ciara didn't take the bait, but Hannah fell hook, line, and sinker.)

The thing is though, Luke is a working actor, most recently appearing alongside Kaley Cuoco in HBO Max's The Flight Attendant, so it's hard to know if his cad-like behavior is genuine or if he's "auditioning."

9 Lauren Wirkus

The now married (since June of 2020 as well as expecting) identical twin of Ashley, brought the confidence of a person who knew someone always had her back. Housemate Carl Radke had no chance when he was in a relationship with Lauren because when they'd have a fight, he'd end up being double-teamed by the Wirkus Circus.

She left the series after season 2, but while Lauren was in the house, she made her presence known, such as when she smashed a cake in Carl's face, or in season 2 when Lauren stepped back and gave the floor to Ashley who smashed a watermelon on it to make known their twin anger at Carl.

8 Stephen McGee

Thus far the only representative of the LGBTQ community, he brought attention to the struggle of trying to balance living his life as an openly gay man (dating Travis) and getting along with his conservative southern family.

In seasons 1 & 2, the event planner was a bit of a pot-stirrer. Giving off a very nice and almost innocent vibe, Stephen appeared to be someone to whom people felt safe in confiding. However, he'd turn around and expose those secrets the minute he felt left out or angered, such as when Stephen got fed up with Carl's treatment of BFF Lauren and revealed Carl's little-known same-sex romantic encounter.

7 Ciara Miller

As with The Real Housewives of New York, Bravo rightly decided it was time to add a POC to the all-white cast. The Atlanta native was introduced as a friend of Luke's, but because of her confidence, broke free of the association and created her own identity and friendships.

RELATED: Summer House: Ciara Miller's Age, Net Worth, Instagram, Job & More

Ciara, although a part-time model, brings a bit of gravitas to the show via her profession as an ICU nurse who was on the frontline of the COVID-19 relief efforts. Because she likely saw real-life drama in her professional life, she doesn't need it in her personal life, keeping her head while those around her are losing theirs.

6 Paige DeSorbo

The native New Yorker and fashion influencer (her bedroom at the summer house looks like a giant walk-in closet) has emerged from the crowd as the voice of reason, and like Ciara has managed to stay above the fray, presumably because she has a non-cast member boyfriend, Perry, hence no on-premises entanglements.

Paige has also evolved into the role of in-house counsel/therapist, intervening to advise, negotiate and point out when there's enough blame to go around. Because no one is perfect, she's been known to stir the pot when someone gets on her bad side.

5 Amanda Batula

When we first met Amanda she was Kyle's beleaguered girlfriend. Even though they were in a committed relationship, he saw no reason to stop seeing other women--especially after drinking too much, which seemed to be every waking moment of the weekend.

Because of that, the guest-cum-cast member had chronic Resting Cry Face, as she often screamed at him. But there's nothing like a long-awaited engagement ring to say all's forgiven. Amanda is very self-assured in her relationship, coming to Kyle's defense against anyone who "comes after my man," and recently left her full-time position as a graphic designer to become the Creative, Branding and Marketing head of Loverboy, a hard teas and craft cocktails venture started by Kyle. Their wedding has been postponed more than once.

4 Hannah Berner

No one can take a conversation from zero to 60 like this roommate. The podcast host (Berning in Hell and the new Giggly Squad with pal Paige) is the epitome of free-spiritedness and has made no secret that she's not just looking for love but looking to be loved. Perhaps now that, on season 5, Hannah has gotten over Luke by getting under new guy (now fiance) Des Bishop, she will calm down.

Unfortunately, this co-host of Bravo's Chat Room is often hard to like because she constantly starts fights--especially with Kyle. The phrase "hurt people, hurt people" comes to mind when it comes to this young woman who, even when smiling, seems rather sad.

3 Carl Radke

They say life doesn't give you more than you can handle. If this is true, then Carl can handle a lot. His brother passed away, his parents' marriage failed and left his mother devastated and using her son as her sounding board, and the sales professional lost his job. On top of all that he had to come to terms with his escalated drinking. Those who recall his earlier season relationship with Lauren, and more recently with current housemates Paige and Lindsay Hubbard, know that as a boyfriend, it'll be awhile before he's ready to settle down.

RELATED: Summer House: Why Some Fans Aren't Happy That Carl Radke Quit Alcohol

Although Carl seems determined to get his life under control, beginning with his position working for Kyle running Sales and Business Development for Loverboy, there is a deep emotion that could be construed as anger under the surface, evidenced by the fight between Kyle and Luke, which had bystander Carl the first to lunge at Luke fist raised.

2 Lindsay Hubbard

Piece of work is a phrase that comes to mind when talking about this blonde bombshell with brains to match. Lindsay is ambitious and business-savvy, and not one to hold back when something's on her mind. She's at once an older sister/advisor to the house's younger female squad, yet when it comes to romance needs a mentor of her own.

Over the seasons we've seen this alpha female have the same confrontation with former cast member/lover Everett, current cast mate/former lover Carl, and current boyfriend Stephen that goes something like: "You should kiss the ground I walk on; You should only focus on me; You should make 'me' a sandwich." There's a fine line between having high standards as to how you want to be treated and wanting to be treated like a Disney Princess. Lindsay seems to be standing on it.

1 Kyle Cooke

This guy is the gift that keeps on giving. The hard-partying entrepreneur has kept it interesting from the pilot by always finding a way to make it all about him. The quintessential Peter Pan, the 38-year-old is everybody's big brother, yet can be the most immature person in the room, unaware that his frat boy days are behind him.

Kyle seems to be one of those people who cannot be confined, hence he chooses to accept the risk of being an entrepreneur rather than work a 9-to-5, and why it took awhile to remain loyal to Amanda, whom he proposed to in season 3 (2019). The couple has yet to marry, citing the global health pandemic as the reason. Although this was probably a factor, Amanda might secretly suspect what viewers have known all along: she might want to wait until Kyle grows up.

NEXT: Winter House: How The Reality Show Will Be Different From Summer House

Summer House: 10 Best Castmates, Ranked | ScreenRant from https://ift.tt/3spyoWd

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caramelfuzz · 7 years

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The Fight pt. 1

Okay so I WAS gonna write something where Keith is sick on his birthday, but alas the inspiration fairy has yet to smash my head in so I’m gonna post something that has been sitting in my docs for a very long time

Warning: It is VERY self-indulgent and angsty XD

This is inspired (sort of…maybe the beginning a little?) by me overreacting to none of my friends coming to my choir concert this past year in college. Only like fifteen people showed up to the event total, so I was very upset. Of course I retaliated by trying to make them feel bad and showing up to their band/orchestra concert. It did not work, but I got over myself.

Keith lay in his bed, shivery and exhausted. He knew he’d promised Lance he would go to his performance that night, but he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open long enough to dial the number he knew by heart or even send a short text. He fell asleep with his phone in his hands, not waking up to the multiple texts and calls from his boyfriend. When Lance burst through the door about two hours later, he was livid. “Keith! Get your lazy, lying ass out of bed and explain to me why you missed my concert tonight! If you don’t want to date me at least have the courtesy to tell me!”

Keith startled, eyes shooting open to see a red-faced Lance packing a suitcase. “L-ladce? Wh-where are you g-goigg?” He asked, tears welling in his eyes. Lance turned and gave him a hateful glare. “I’m going back to my place for a while, until you are man enough to either apologize or break up with me.” With that he turned on his heel, slamming the door on his way out, leaving Keith in a heap on the floor, sobbing. By the time he pulled himself from the floor, he knew he definitely had a fever.

After a few days of feeling his health steadily decline, Keith had run out of almost everything in his apartment. He could live without tissues or cold medicine, but not having food was a no-no. He knew Hunk and Pidge had class right then, and Shiro was out of town for work, so that left one person on his very short contact list. He took a deep breath to calm himself, only sending him into a violent fit of coughing that he tried to smother when he heard Lance pick up.

“What do you want.” Was the cold voice that seemed to be demanding an answer, rather than asking. “Ladce… I deed to go to the store add I really dod’t thidk I cad bake it there… Do you thidk you could go grab be sobe stuff add just leave it outside by roob?”

“No, I cannot, actually. I have plans tonight with Rollo and Nyma that I need to get ready for.”

Keith felt his heart twinge at the thought of Lance going out with those two, when the three of them got together it was always bad news for Lance. “Ladce. You dod’t have to take be to the store, but please, do dot go out with Dyba add Rollo. Dot for by sake, but for yours.” He pleaded, trying not to let the congestion in his voice show too much. “Tch, listen to yourself, Keith. I can tell you’re faking being sick so I’ll feel bad and come back to you, but it isn’t happenin’, sugar. If you want me back, you’ll have to come out and find me tonight.” With that he hung up, secretly thrilled. Keith would come to the club that night and make a scene. Lance could never break up with Keith, but he was angry at him for missing his concert the other night. He was so upset about Keith being a no-show that he’d messed up on not only his flute solo in the orchestra, but also his special piccolo parts in the wind ensemble, and then the conductor had yelled at him for a solid ten minutes after the concert had ended. It always made him swoon when Keith made a scene for him. Keith sighed when Lance hung up, knowing he was expected to go make a scene and defend Lance’s honor or something, so he figured he should get to the store and pick something up that would prepare him for the long night he was about to have.

Bundling up in as many layers as he could, Keith began his journey to the store. Normally the trip took fifteen minutes on average, but Keith’s movements were slower than usual due to fever, and he kept having to stop and brace himself on various objects if he became dizzy or was overcome with a particularly strong bout of coughs or sneezes.

By the time he finally arrived at the store, he knew for sure his fever was spiking. He was alternating between feeling as though he were about to have a heat stroke and feeling like he was freezing to death. He grabbed a basket and shakily made his way towards the aisle labeled cold and flu. He started to put things in the basket, then he heard familiar voices emanating from the next aisle over— “Fuck you, Hunk! I want peeps!”

“Dude, you need to start eating healthier if you ever want to grow.”

“Shut up! I’m happy the size that I am.”

Keith felt like he could cry with relief, and he staggered towards the voices, having to hold onto some of the shelves to keep his balance. When neither Hunk nor Pidge noticed his presence at first, he cleared his throat a bit in an effort to get their attention. As they looked up Hunk rolled his eyes, and Pidge gave him a look of disdain. It seemed Lance had told them everything. “What do you want, Keith?” Pidge spat, not bothering to cover the bitterness in their voice. Now Keith felt like he was going to cry from their rejection, and he did so, unable to stop the flow of tears and subsequent stream of mucus from his nose due to his burgeoning fever and congestion.

Hunk’s entire demeanor changed, from exasperated by Keith’s presence to concerned. He reached towards Keith, whose entire body was shaking as he rubbed at his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears, and pulled him to his chest, feeling the heat radiating from Keith’s smaller form, and noticing that his hair was damp.

“Did you walk here?”

“Y-yes… I kdew you add Pidge had class so I tried to ask Ladce for a ride, but he said do add accused be of fakigg beigg sick… I’b out of food add tissues add medicide…”

“Pidge, get his basket and finish getting the stuff. I’m going to take him back to his apartment and I want you to meet us there as soon as possible. He needs to get some medicine, but right now I want him warm and hydrated.”

Pidge saluted and raced off, peeps completely forgotten. Their friend needed them.

Hunk picked Keith up, frowning at how light he was. Sure, Hunk wouldn’t have a problem lifting Keith on a good day, but he was definitely lighter than normal.

“When’s the last time you ate anything?” He murmured to Keith, trying to keep as much of the smaller man’s body shielded from the wind as he could.

“Umb… I ate a little bit of toast od Tuesday. That’s whed I rad out of food…”

Hunk frowned again, it was Thursday. Why on Earth didn’t Keith ask for help sooner? Then he remembered the look of hatred on Pidge’s face from earlier. Keith must have known that Hunk and Pidge would take Lance’s side—they had been friends for many years. Keith had only joined the group about a year prior. Keith still felt like an outsider, too scared of rejection to ask for help.

Keith shuddered in his arms with a sob, murmuring a jumble of words, mostly apologies.

Hunk just held him tighter and pressed on, thankful when he saw Keith’s building coming up. He didn’t bother saying hello to any of his friends that he passed in the lobby, only offering them a halfhearted nod of acknowledgement. When he got to Keith’s room he set the shivering man on the couch while he went to check the bedroom. The sheets were in disarray, just as he’d expected. Probably sweaty from his fever as well. He stripped the bed and was gathering a clean change of clothes for Keith when he heard Pidge enter the apartment. Their light footsteps moved toward the kitchen and Hunk made out the clink of a glass as they filled it with water. He smiled to himself, remembering how tender Pidge could be when they wanted to, and how docile and submissive Keith got when sick. That is probably what happened with Lance—it was a one-sided argument, with Keith just taking the insults, not fighting back at all. Lance should have noticed, but he was so dense and selfish at times. Pidge entered the bathroom, noting the nearly empty roll of toilet paper and nearly full wastebasket. They deduced that Keith must have been trying to keep the apartment as clean as possible just in case Lance decided to pay a visit… It saddened them to think about it. Besides Shiro, Lance was the closest thing Keith had to family, and having him freak out and leave was probably the reason Keith had gotten himself so sick.

Hunk made his way back to the couch, gently stripping Keith and redressing him, the smaller man had fallen into an anxious state of half-sleep, sweat dripping down his forehead. Hunk wiped it away with the small cloth Pidge had gotten from the bathroom, along with the thermometer, which he stuck into the sleeping man’s mouth. 102.7… That was not ideal. Keith startled awake when he heard the thermometer beeping.

“Mmb? What tibe is it?”

“5 o’clock. You need to go back to sleep, Keith. You’re really sick.”

Pidge whispered, trying to push him back into a reclining position.

“Wait! I deed to go to the club… Ladce said he was goigg there add I kdow the odly way he’ll forgive be is if I go bake a scede for hib. He loves it whed I get protective.”

Hunk frowned, knowing that even if he and Pidge were to say no, Keith would find a way to escape them and go anyway, and there was no use in him passing out on the street somewhere. He and Pidge exchanged an exasperated look, and Pidge turned toward Keith, trying to calm his nerves.

“Fine, Hunk and I are going to help you get to the club and win Lance back, but remember, Lance doesn’t ever go out before 9, so could you please just rest until 8?”

“Seved.”

“7:30.”

“Fide. But I have to be bore presedtable thad I ab dow…”

“We’ll help you get ready, but for now I need you to sleep.”

Keith muttered something about not being a child, but allowed himself to be carried to his newly-clean bed, and snuggled under the comforter. Hunk and Pidge set about the apartment, alternating between fretting about how they were going to help Keith, and checking up on him every half hour.

When 7:30 came, Hunk went into Keith’s room and gently shook him awake.

His eyes fluttered open and he immediately wrenched his body away from Hunk to begin coughing into the crook of his arm. Hunk then helped him out of bed and towards the already-running shower. The steam helped clear his sinuses, but he kept having to— “NGHchshtt’UH! Hhp’NGSTTue! Hh! Huhh’MNPtshh! AahtCHTSShyew! Hh’CHTSshuh! HuhNGTChuh! HP’NGKshh!”—do that… After a fairly lengthy coughing fit, he decided he’d stayed in the delightfully warm spray for far too long, and reluctantly shut off the water. After getting his hair dry and semi-presentable, Keith stumbled out into his room, shivering at the wave of cold air that hit him when he emerged from the steaminess of the bathroom. He slowly got dressed in one of his nicer sweaters, hoping beyond hope that Lance wasn’t expecting him to go all out on his outfit. He allowed Hunk to fuss over him, and wrap him in about five extra layers on top of the sweater, groaning when he realized they were going to have to walk to the club. He leaned heavily on Hunk the entire walk. After what felt like an eternity they finally reached the club, and Hunk promised he’d be right outside chatting with the bouncer, as Hunk was wont to do, as opposed to going in with Keith and Pidge. Pidge allowed Keith to hold onto their arm for a little support, but they both knew Pidge would never be able to hold Keith if he passed out. Keith squinted through the haziness of the club, or maybe that was from his fever, and tried to find Lance. He finally saw the tall man grinding on someone that looked a whole lot like Keith, but he was a lot taller. Great. This probably meant Lance would want Keith to fight for him if the man challenged him and, based on how drunk the other guy was, he probably would. Keith was in no state to do that, but he’d have to try anyway.

“Hey!” He coughed a bit to clear his voice, “Lance! Come on. We’re going home!”

He choked out, before trying to look as tough as possible in his unsteady walk towards Lance, whose face fell when he saw the feverish flush high on Keith’s cheekbones, and heard the congestion in his voice. Lance tried to intervene, but the man had already heard what Keith said.

“Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing with my man, punk?” The other man was slightly older, and he puffed up his chest, cracking his knuckles. As Keith dodged the first swing from the larger man’s fist, he saw Pidge run outside to get Hunk, thank goodness. For now he just had to survive. His movements were sluggish, and he soon took a hit to the face. His nose started to bleed, a mixture of blood and mucus now running down his face, he swiped at it with his sweater-clad arm and then nimbly swept the other man off of his feet with his leg just as Hunk and Pidge came in with the bouncer. Hunk caught Keith, who was now panting, as he stumbled towards Lance, then fell. Lance just stood there in awe for a moment, before scurrying after Hunk and Pidge, who were leaving, casting angry glares at him in the process. “Wait up you guys! Please!”

The normally fifteen-minute walk was cut in half as Hunk and Pidge raced to get Keith in bed as soon as possible, he was really burning up.

“What’s going on? Is Keith okay? Wait a minute…did he put you up to this? I bet he did! He’s probably faking! Keith, you prick. Why won’t you just tell the truth? Is that so freaking hard?” “Lance. I am really not in the mood for your dramatic shit right now. Keith is really, really sick and you just keep pushing him away. He asked you for a favor earlier, and a good boyfriend would have realized that he only does that if he really needs it. Pidge and I found him half-conscious, stumbling around the grocery store trying to get food and medicine after walking all the way there in the cold.”

Lance was speechless. How could he have forgotten? It was true, Keith would only ask him for a favor if it was important… Like not having any food or medicine in the house and a burgeoning fever to boot. Lance was left to his guilty thoughts as Hunk and Pidge set about the apartment, gathering things for Keith. Lance settled next to his shivering boyfriend on the bed in an effort to share some of his warmth with him. Lance didn’t deserve such a wonderful boyfriend in his life, and yet here he was. If he’d even take Lance back after this. He could have died tonight, so Lance wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to take a break. He was pulled from his thoughts by Pidge shoving him away from Keith. “If you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, why don’t you start making up for being an asshole by helping us get him healthy? Or are you really that selfish?” Hunk took a thermometer and stuck it in Keith’s mouth, frowning when he saw the numbers. “104.6. We should take him to the hospital—”

“Do! Please… Do hospitals, Hudk.” Keith burst out, tears forming in his fever-bright eyes.

Lance cringed at Keith’s destroyed voice, trying in vain to calm down his panicky boyfriend.

“Hhah… Heh-Nngx! ETCHSSHHH! Hh’tchiu! Hhah…. hhh… nn… n-no, get aw— hhih – HITCHEW! Hiih’Nkxshh!” Lance rubbed slow circles on Keith’s back as he sneezed exhaustedly into his forearm, frowning when Keith pulled away from him again, fresh tears beginning to pour from his eyes as some sort of realization dawned on him.

“H-Hih.... Hih’gTSXtchh-!!”

Lance offered tissues, but Keith tried in vain to pull away from his now-frantic boyfriend, sobbing into his pillow with snot running down his face.

Hunk stepped forward and forced Keith into his arms, slowly and calmly shushing him while petting his sweaty hair, “What’s wrong, buddy? What can I get you?”

“Hic- L-ladce w-was right!”

“What was Lance right about, Keith?”

“B-by fabily! All I do is hurt adyode who could possibly love be… By real bob got addicted to drugs after I was bord. I watched her die. She cobbitted suicide id frodt of be! She hated be! Add Shiro’s paredts… They were so kide to be… They didd’t deserve to die like that. They were od their way to get be frob subber cabp whed the sebi hit theb. Add if they hadd’t adopted be Shiro would still have his arb… What if sobethigg happeds to Ladce, or you or Pidge—”

He began to sob again, breaking off into a violent fit of coughing, Hunk pressed a wad of tissues to his friend’s mouth, frowning when he pulled them away and saw blood. Hunk had been in the nursing program for a hot minute before discovering that his true passion was engineering, so he knew that coughing up a bit of blood was normal if the throat was irritated enough, but if that got any worse they would be going to the hospital whether Keith wanted to or not. For the time being he settled for gently laying the now-dozing Keith back down and tucking him in, grabbing Lance by the arm roughly and dragging him to Keith’s living room where a pissed-off Pidge sat, having heard everything.

“I called Shiro.” Was all they said, glaring at Lance, then at the wall when he tried to garner some form of sympathy from them.

But what really scared him was what Hunk said next...

“I’m calling your mom, Lance.”

Dun dun DUN

I’m seriously so lazy I can’t even be bothered to come up with a semi-satisfying end to part 1??? Oh well!

#I'm a lazy mofo #happy birthday anyway Keith #sneezing #sick keith #sickfic #sneezefic #college au #Aa writes

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unofferable-fic · 5 years

Text

The Flower & The Serpent (Arthur Morgan x OFC)

Chapter 2 - Enter, Pursued By Pháistí

Summary: In the early 1890s, the Van der Linde Gang were truly at their finest. Experts at stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, they’ve made a name for themselves across the West. Two of their newest recruits, a pair of rebellious Irish siblings with an unknown past, slowly find their footing and settle into their new lives as outlaws. And yet, as they grow older, threats from all sides begin to appear. A strained relationship with Colm O'Driscoll spells disaster for the gang, and no matter how far they roam across America, the world continues to change around them. If they want to survive, difficult choices must be made. No one is as they seem and the impending arrival of law and order threatens to tear the siblings, and everything they hold dear, apart. Is it too late for anyone to find a happy ending?

Originally found here

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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OFC

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 6,370

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Playlist: “Wisconsin” — Bon Iver, “Wandering” — Gustavo Santaolalla, “It Will Come Back” — Hozier

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A/N: Also available on AO3. Chapter two comin’ at y’all.

This was not the expected outcome that Maebh had prepared herself for when planning the robbery. To her, there were only two outcomes really — get away with the money or die trying. The secret third option to join a stranger’s gang was a surprise, but perhaps a welcome one. How she found herself and her brother standing in a field with four other outlaws was beyond her…

“You want two kids to join your gang?” she asked Dutch van der Linde with her brow raised.

The well-dressed man let out a chuckle. “Why, Arthur here joined when he was a teenager, and John joined when he was only twelve years old. Regardless of your age, you both know how to handle yourselves, and you can only learn and improve as you get older. These boys are a testament to that fact.”

Maebh gave said men a once over. Arthur, clearly the older of the pair, definitely gave the impression of a brooding tough guy. He didn’t seem like someone with whom you’d want to get into a bar fight. His large hands presumably packed a punch, and judging by the scars on his chin and nose and the glint in his eye, he had no problem putting himself in the thick of it if needs be. That being said, she couldn’t get a really good look at him with that hat on his head. And yet, there was something oddly tranquil and thoughtful about him, much like the calm before a storm.

John, by his appearance, general mannerisms, and inability to enter a stressful situation without shouting or cursing, was clearly younger. She pegged that he was closer in age to her and William than Arthur, but he was no less moody. Their original interaction was enough to know that he was a hotheaded youngster with something to prove to his gang members. When it came to his physical appearance, his youthful face was somewhat hidden behind greasy black locks of hair but he seemed to wear none of the battle wounds that Arthur did with his years of experience.

“My dear,” Dutch continued on. “This offer is not only beneficial for us, but by the sounds of things, you and your brother don’t have many places to go or many options to choose from. Now, what we are offerin’ is not only a home and a team to look out for you, but a chance to live free from the influence of civilisation. An opportunity to improve your body and mind, and help those less fortunate while you’re at it. All you gotta do is earn your keep — do chores, help out at camp, and partake in the odd robbery or con.”

There was a brief silence that hung on the air, each cowboy awaiting some sort of response. She could feel William’s eyes on her, and she wanted a chance to hear what he thought before making any promises.

“If it’s alright with you,” she began, looking at the leader. “I think we want to chat about it first before makin’ any decisions.”

He nodded, though not unkindly. He slowly dismounted from his horse and signalled for his gang members to follow suit. “O’course! Take a moment if you need it, and I’ll chat with my friends while you do.”

She thanked him before turning to her brother, who gave her a nod off to the side and muttered. “Tar anseo.”

She followed him happily, sticking close as he strode away from the gang, leaving the two groups a respectful distance apart. Thinking it would be wise to do so, the pair of them spoke in their native tongue while standing closely together.

“Cad a cheapann tú foai seo?” she asked without hesitation. What’re you thinkin’?

He shrugged, responding in Irish. “I think we’re in a similar situation to the stagecoach from earlier. Either we go it alone at a big disadvantage or we try to team up with them lot, I guess.”

“They are offerin’ hot food and beds,” she added. “And I’d kill for somethin’ like that.”

“Not to mention safety.” He paused uncertainly and threw the men a glance. “After what we did, this might be a good idea. We’re still wanted ’round here so I’m thinkin’ safety in numbers might be our best bet.”

“You’re right about that anyway. But what about them; how do you feel ’bout them?”

“I think they’re grand for the most part. The young fella seems a bit thick but he could be worse. Your man Dutch seems like the good sort — he had an opportunity to rob us and didn’t. He could’ve left us on the roadside but he didn’t. He’s got some… interestin’ ideologies, but I can’t say I don’t agree with them. The government’s done us no favours.” He lowered his voice and leaned in closer, his eyes looking a little worrisome in the dimming light. “They’re gonna catch us eventually if it’s just me and you, Maebh. This might be our chance to get away from it all.”

“I think you’re right,” she agreed. “I suppose as Dutch said, it’s better if outlaws stick together. Plus, if we aren’t feelin’ them, we can always leave.”

“Good point.” William let out a sigh, clapped his hands together, and returned to speaking in English. “Right, sure fuck it. We’d like to take you up on that offer, Mr Van der Linde.”

Dutch let out a laugh and gave Hosea a look. “Now what I tell ya? These are some smart kids we have found, gentlemen. They will make fine additions! It is good to have you onboard.”

“Thanks for havin’ us, Mister,” Maebh replied gratefully. “Now, where to exactly?”

“Back to your new camp, o’course. John, Arthur, would you be so kind as to offer these two a spot on your horses.” As John let out a grumble, Dutch gave him a look. “Hey now, son, make friends. They’re certainly closer in age to you than we are.”

“How old are you two, actually?” Arthur asked as he once more offered Maebh a hand on to the back of his horse.

“I’m sixteen,” she replied, sat herself behind him, and hung on to his broad shoulders. She threw a nod in her brother’s direction as John hoisted him up. “And he’s fifteen.”

“You really do pick ’em up young, Dutch,” Hosea chuckled as the four of them set off in a canter. “But you’re right — they can certainly handle themselves.”

“That they can, and I’m sure they too wish to live free in this here fine land, away from all that civilisation. Young or old, their ideals are in the right place.”

“How old were you when you joined?” Maebh asked Arthur as the others settled into some conversation about where the camp was located.

He hesitated, probably realising she was addressing him, and cleared his throat. “Fifteen or fourteen, there abouts anyways…”

“So basically our age, then.”

“I guess so.”

The group descended into casual conversation as they rode to the Van der Linde gang campsite. Along the journey, the sun had set on the horizon and plunged the land into darkness save for the light of the full moon. Maebh watched intently as the horses were steered on to a small dirt path and through a group of dense trees. As they breached the other side, she first set eyes on the camp. Their new home.

It looked quite small, but she didn’t mind that. If anything, she preferred it to something larger or overcrowded. The camp was illuminated in the darkness by some lamps and a campfire where a few people sat with drinks in their hands. A number of tents stood grouped together, some larger and more ostentatious that others, in the centre of which stood a larger wagon that contained a number of provisions and food. Under one of its canopies she spotted a large man chopping away at cuts of meat. A few other wagons were set up not far away — one joined to a bed and canopy seemed to contain ammunition, while another standing on its own housed a few medical supplies. Off to the side in a patch of grass, horses stood grazing in the warm night air. At the sight of the group’s return, the gang members stood up from the fire and came to greet them. Maebh spotted two women and another older man, excluding the one who remained by the food wagon.

“Hey! Welcome back, fellers!” the older man announced, waving a bottle of beer in his hand as he jaunted over to them. “Did you get the money?”

“More importantly,” one of the women began, throwing the man a frown. “Is everyone alright?”

“To answer your question, my dear, Bessie,” Hosea began as he dismounted his horse. “Everyone is fine. And to answer your question, Uncle, no we did not.”

The trio looked stumped. “You didn’t?”

“No.” Hosea pointed to William and Maebh. “They did.”

For the first time that night, the other members of the Van der Linde gang laid eyes on the siblings, having not even noticed their presence. Maebh chose to give them a simple nod without speaking a word. She got off the horse as Arthur did and stood by her younger brother’s side. Arthur and John lead the four horses to the rest of their animals before rejoining the group.

Trying to show William some reassurance, she gently bumped her shoulder against his as Dutch made the grand introduction. “My friends, I’m pleased to introduce you to the newest and currently the youngest members of the Van der Linde gang. Meet Maebh and William Hennigan, Ireland’s finest thieves.”

“You two robbed the stagecoach?” the other unnamed woman asked, her lips parted with curiosity.

“You four were beaten to the take by two kids?” the older man — Uncle — asked before bursting out into a fit of semi-drunken laughter. “You gotta be kiddin’ me! Fearsome outlaws from the West, beaten to the gold by kids from the East!”

“Yes, Uncle,” Dutch agreed. “We were beaten to it by some ‘kids’, but these kids managed to rob a guarded stagecoach without any assistance, so I wouldn’t go makin’ assumptions about their abilities.”

“Oh, trust me, I ain’t. I just get a good ol’ chuckle knowin’ what you stumbled across when you expected a box of money. I wish I could see the look on your faces.”

“I’m sure, I’m sure. Now, kids, introductions for you two. These two fine ladies are Susan Grimshaw and Bessie Matthews, and as you heard this… gentleman is Uncle.”

“Is he your uncle?” William asked, eying these new people up and down.

“Ah, no. He ain’t no one’s uncle here, but we call him that regardless.”

“How many feral children do you plan on bringin’ home, Mr Van der Linde?” the woman Dutch introduced as Susan Grimshaw asked, her hands propped on her hips. While the others seems amused with their arrival, she appeared more skeptical, much like Maebh and William were themselves.

“Only the ones that can handle themselves,” Dutch replied deviously before leaning down and kissing her cheek. “And I promise you, these two can.”

“But can they cook? Clean? Help run things ’round here? They look like can barely keep themselves clean.”

“They’ve been livin’ rough lately, as far as I know.”

“We’ve no problem with chores, miss,” Maebh replied surely. “Cookin’ and cleanin’ aren’t a problem.”

“Good. Well the first thing you can do is clean yourselves up. I’ll fetch you some soap and clean towels, and then you can head on down stream a bit.”

As Miss Grimshaw left to get supplies, Dutch placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “While you two wash up, I’ll have a tent and fresh bedding set up for you. Mr Pearson should have some leftovers from dinner as well.”

Maebh and her brother expressed genuine thanks to the lot of them as Miss Grimshaw returned with their bathing supplies. She asked as to whether they had any clean clothes, but Maebh assured her that they had some spare ones in their bags. The gang left them to it, so the pair walked down the river until they were mostly out of sight. They took turns washing the grime and sweat of the day off their bodies, one in the river while the other stood on the bank and kept watch. After all, they still didn’t entirely trust these new people they just met today.

“What d’you think we’ll have to do ’bout the money?” William asked from his spot on the bank, his back to her while he fiddled with his hunting knife.

Maebh threw a glance at him as she scrubbed her hair. “From the stage?”

“Yeah. D’ya think we should give them some of it? We’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for them lads.”

“I mean you’re not wrong. We should probably give them some of it. Half, maybe? And then you and me split the other half?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” he agreed. “Are you done yet? I’m starvin’ after all that carry on.”

“Yeah, just gis a sec.”

Once she finished up, William threw her a towel and waited for her to dry herself and get changed into fresh clothes. They washed the dirty ones on the river’s edge together before returning to camp feeling a bit better after the messy day they’d had. They could feel some eyes on them as they returned, Maebh linking her arm into the crook of his while he carried their belongings. Upon seeing them approach, Miss Grimshaw called them over. She brought them to a decent tent set up not too far from what she assumed was Dutch’s. Inside, two bedrolls lay on the ground, with an oil lamp plopped nearby to give them some light. She was also surprised to see they had been gifted a little wooden chest to share.

“We set you two up here beside Mr Morgan and Mr Marston,” Miss Grimshaw explained. “I figured you might prefer to bunk together for the moment. You also have a chest for any belongin’s you might need to store.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Maebh said with a polite smile. “We appreciate this, honestly.”

“Well you can repay us by earnin’ your keep. Be up at dawn to help with the chores — there’s washin’ to be done, and Mr Pearson could do with some fresh meats brought to his wagon — if either of you are good with horses, they could do with some groomin’ and feedin’.”

William nodded, noting her very serious tone. Her eyes, decorated with dark makeup, were full of fury hidden underneath an authoritative demeanour. Her messy bun only added to her confident appearance as the apparent arbiter. He got the feeling that she kept this place alive and she knew she did. She definitely wasn’t one for messing around, clearly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Any questions, just shout.” Without saying much else, Miss Grimshaw left them to their new lodgings.

“Well,” William began, giving his sister’s arm a squeeze. “Which side do you want, right or left?”

“Oh shut it,” Maebh laughed and gave him a soft shove. “It’s all the same to me.”

“Just makin’ sure,” he said with a grin and stowed their belongings in the chest as she hung their washed clothes above the tent to dry out. William took a seat on one of the bedrolls and gently ran his hand over the material. “I have’ta say, these feel much comfier than our ones.”

“At least that’s one plus to this new arrangement.” She took a seat next to him and sat akimbo. She let her gaze wander over the camp, feeling surprisingly comfortable in this new environment.

“What’re you thinkin’?” William asked, eying her curiously. “I can tell your mind is goin’ a mile a minute.”

“Just thinkin’ that I’m actually alright with all this,” she answered honestly. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m still wary of these people ’cause we don’t know ’em, but they don’t give me any bad vibes. They seem grand.”

“I understand, but always be on your toes, yeah?”

With a nod she let her head rest on his shoulder. “Of course. We’re in this together as always.”

While sitting in their new living space, Maebh glanced over to see a figure approaching them. She recognised it to be Mr Morgan, who carefully carried three bowls of food in his arms. He greeted them with a nod. “Thought you two could do with some food. It ain’t much — Pearson really don’t got the hang of usin’ seasonin’, but it’s better than nothin’.”

“Thanks, Mr Morgan,” she replied and took one of the bowls and spoons he offered. Inside was steaming hot beef stew. “That’s kind of you.”

“Call me Arthur,” he replied. “Ain’t no need for formalities with me. Mind if I join you?”

They signalled for him to take a seat on the ground, which he happily accepted. Considering he had appeared so gruff before, Maebh was somewhat surprised to see him making an effort to give them some company. Perhaps he knew the feeling from his own experiences as a kid and wished to ease their transition a little. Though she knew little of him, he seemed like a useful man to have on your side.

“You likin’ the new set up?” he asked, as he swallowed some stew.

“It’s grand yeah,” she replied as she too munched away. “And we appreciate the new belongin’s and all that.”

“We look out for each other in this gang,” he explained. “So don’t mention it. A word of advice though — do whatever Miss Grimshaw asks of you. You don’t wanna see her mean side.”

“We got that impression,” William added, enjoying his hot meal. “And I don’t fancy her givin’ me a smack. She looks like she packs a punch.”

“Oh, she definitely does, take my word for it.”

Seeing this as a chance to get some more information about their new gang mates, Maebh chose to see what Arthur could offer. “Is she Dutch’s wife?”

He shook his head. “Naw, but they’ve been together a while. He’s in charge of things for sure, but she likes to help organise and keep everyone in check.”

She glanced at the campfire where she spotted Hosea and Bessie sitting with John and Uncle. Only now had she gotten a chance to really study her. She could tell that they were together, just by their mannerisms alone, and had been so for a long time. Her shoulder-length hair was beginning to grey, and her face held the telltale signs of age with slight crinkles in the corners of her eyes. She had to admit, they made a good looking couple. “What about Bessie?”

“She’s Hosea’s wife,” Arthur explained. “They’ve been together a while and she’s a good woman. She wasn’t raised an outlaw like most of us, but she goes where Hosea goes. She helps out ’round camp too, mostly with the cleanin’ and breakin’ up fights. She’s clever, with an equally intelligent husband. Hosea is Dutch’s righthand man. Been runnin’ with him since the mid 70s. That man can talk his way into, or out of, just about anythin’. They’re quite a pair.” Arthur eat another spoonful of somewhat bland stew before continuing on his explanation of the group. “And John is still a kid. He’s only seventeen, but he thinks he knows everythin’. He’s an orphan too, but he’s been runnin’ with us for five years and he’s already the golden boy. Dutch taught him a lot of what he knows, so I guess he’s like a father to him. He’s a good kid though and some shot with a pistol.

“Pearson, the guy over by the food wagon, he’s the camp cook. Used to be a sailor so get ready to hear all about his adventures at sea… Shame they couldn’t teach him about herbs while on deck. And Uncle, well… Uncle is Uncle.”

Maebh blinked at him. “He’s what now?”

“Honestly?” Arthur asked, briefly meeting her eyes. “He barely does shit ’round here bar drinkin’ and laughin’. He’s good for findin’ leads sometimes, I guess. Only reason Dutch ain’t kicked him out yet is ’cause he finds him so entertainin’.”

“What a colourful bunch,” William added as he quickly finished his meal.

“You two’ll fit right in,” Arthur offered. “Trust in Dutch and do what he wants. His word is usually the best one to go by.”

Mr Morgan remained with them for a little while longer before they decided to turn in for the night. He bid them a goodnight and headed back to his own tent. Maebh watched him sit on his bed and write into some sort of book for the rest of the evening before she felt exhaustion overcome her and the need for sleep was too much. She and William fell asleep to the crackling of a fire and the hushed laughter of their new apparent family.

* * *

9th June, 1890, outside Waukesha, Wisconsin

We picked up some new members after the stagecoach robbery. Two kids beat us to the take, and Dutch saw fit to bring them into the fold. Can’t say that I blame him for it, as they certainly seem like they can hold themselves no problem. A brother and sister, two apparent orphans from Ireland… Attached at the hip by the looks of things. Maebh is the eldest and William the youngest, though they seem fairly confident despite their youth. I’m sure John is just glad he’s no longer the youngest around.

It is a little unusual to have new recruits, but I trust Dutch with his decision to take them in. They could certainly be valuable to us all, and I can’t argue with that. Regardless, he hopes that the take will be split in half. One half goes to the gang, while the other goes to the kids to do with what they will. Dutch plans on showing them exactly what we do with a take this big and has asked me to join him for the long ride. Hopefully I can get a better idea of these two along the way, and hopefully it’ll settle whatever uncertainties they surely have about us.

* * *

The following morning, Maebh awoke at dawn. A gentle shake on the shoulder pulled her from sleep, and she opened her eyes to find William sitting up next to her.

“It’s dawn,” he explained with a yawn. “We should get up and movin’ before that Grimshaw woman skins us both.”

“Right,” she grumbled. “Okay, I’m up.”

It took her a couple of minutes to get moving and comfortable in her new surroundings. Once they were dressed, they looked around camp to see a that Miss Grimshaw was also getting up, as well as Hosea and Bessie.

“What jobs were there again?” she asked her brother. “Cleanin’? Feedin’ the horses?”

“And getting fresh food for Pearson too,” William added. “I can tend to the horses and get them fed and watered.”

She nodded and ran her eyes over the nearby Fox River. “Probably a good idea considerin’ how much you like horses. I’ll go with the fishin’ then. Pretty sure I can get some smallmouth or walleye outta there.”

“After that we should have a word with Dutch ’bout the money too.”

“Grand, yeah. I’ll see you in a bit. Shout if you need me.”

While William went off to attend to the gang’s horses, Maebh grabbed her fishing rod and some bait out of the chest and went a short distance downstream. Finding a quiet spot overlooking the river that was still within the camp’s line of vision, she cast her rod into the water and waited. There was a light rain coming down that morning, which thankfully helped with her chances of catching some fish. As time slowly passed, she managed to catch a number of smallmouth bass to give to the camp cook. They put up a fight as always but she had years of experience to help with reeling them in. Once she managed to pull six decently sized bass from the water, she packed up and returned to camp. On her way, she passed by Susan Grimshaw as she grabbed some morning coffee, the older woman eying her curiously — she couldn’t tell whether it was with approval or uncertainty. Pressing onwards, Maebh carried her fresh catches over to Pearson’s wagon.

“Heard you needed some fresh food,” she announced as she reached him.

The man was hunched over a large pot with a thoughtful look on his chubby face. He looked confused for a moment before noticing the fish she was carrying, upon which, a grin formed beneath his thick moustache. “Ah, you must be the other new recruit I haven’t met! I already met your brother over there.” He offered her his hand. “Simon Pearson, camp cook.”

She accepted and shook it vigorously. “Maebh Hennigan, supplier of fish.”

“I can see that! Bring ’em here.”

She set them down on his table as he began to check them over. “Hopefully this is enough.”

“It’s more than enough. These are some decent smallmouth. You must be a fan of fishin’ by the looks of things.”

“It was one of my hobbies growin’ up. Need help skinnin’ and guttin’ ’em?”

He shrugged. “Sure, kid. Why not? Two pair o’hands is better than one.”

As Maebh attended to helping Pearson with prepping the fish, the rest of the gang continued about its business around her. Mr Morgan walked by her and gave her a tip of his hat in greeting. She sent him a wave and watched as he began cutting some firewood. She noticed Uncle dozing in the sun while Miss Grimshaw cleaned some of the camp’s bedclothes. Bessie and Hosea were repairing the side of one of the wagons, hammering wooden planks into position with each others help. William seemed to be in his element with the horses, grooming the mane of Arthur’s mount, Boadicea. She also spotted a dog roaming about the camp, staying close to Pearson’s wagon as they prepared the food. As she gutted her third fish and cooed at the dog, she noticed John and Dutch talking quietly nearby. Though focusing on her work, she carefully watched them every now and then. Dutch handed the younger man a cup of coffee before pushing him in her direction.

“Uh, hey,” Marston announced himself awkwardly as he reached her.

“Mornin’,” she replied and cut off the tail of the bass with a whack. “Marston, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, John actually. You, uh, want some coffee?”

She eyed the steaming cup he offered her. Choosing to humour him, she quickly finished with the fish and washed her hands in a nearby bucket. “Sure, I’ll take that off you. Thanks.”

He handed her the cup and then took a step back. “No problem.” He paused and threw a glance at Dutch who stood nearby smoking a thick cigar. “Sorry if I seemed kinda… rude yesterday. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, just watchin’ my back.”

“It’s no bother,” she assured him and took a sip of her drink. Without missing a beat, she shrugged. “Sorry for callin’ you fuck-ugly.”

He scoffed at her reply, but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips. “Not gonna apologise for threatenin’ to shoot me in my fuck-ugly face?”

“I’m not sure. You were bein’ kinda rude, Mr Marston.”

John shook his head, but seemed to take her teasing lightly. As he began to walk away, he added. “Dutch wants you and William at his tent when you get your chores done. Enjoy the coffee, Miss Hennigan.”

Left to it, Maebh continued on with her work until Pearson said she could finish up. By that point, William had finished up with the horses and had carried sacks of flour to the wagon and refilled its a pails of water. Together, they took a short lunch break and then proceeded towards Dutch’s tent together. He was inside with Susan, reading a novel while she worked on some stitching.

“Mr Van der Linde,” Maebh greeted him. “Miss Grimshaw.”

“Ah,” Dutch cheered, looking up from his book. “Well if it isn’t the new recruits. Good work this mornin’, kids. Looks like you two did some decent work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“If you don’t me bein’ so nosey, but what did your parents do?”

“They were farmers, so we’re used to gettin’ up at the crack of dawn.”

“I thought it might’a been somethin’ like that. They taught you most everythin’ you know?”

“Pretty much all of it, yeah.”

“Then I would say they did a fine job lookin’ at you two. Now, I wanted to speak to you about that the money from the stagecoach, if you wouldn’t mind. What exactly are your plans with it?”

Maebh looked to her brother who tilted his head and answered. “Actually, we wanted t’have a chat with you before we didn’t anythin’ with it. Considerin’ we probably wouldn’t’ve made it outta there alive without you’s, we wanted to offer you half the take.”

A smile slowly stretched across Dutch’s lips. “My, my. That is a generous offer from you two; one that I was hopin’ you would make.”

William narrowed his eyes. “You were?”

“Why yes, son. Ya see, the gang uses a similar method with our on robberies — one half goes directly into the gang fund, while the other is split between those who did the job. But we don’t just hoard all of the gang funds to ourselves, and I want to show you what we’ll do with half the stagecoach money. Would you both accompany myself and Mr Morgan on a ride?”

“Where to exactly?”

The older man got to his feet and stepped out from his tent. “To a town north-west of here called Black River Falls; well known for its mining and lumber industries. It’ll take the day to get there, so its best we head out before noon. Arthur!” Maebh looked over to the nearby tent where Arthur resided, scribbling in that book again.

Once he heard his name being called, he came to meet them. “We headin’ out?”

“That we are, do me a favour and fetch the kids two of the spare horses.”

“Sure.” Without argument, Arthur did as his boss asked.

“Well,” Dutch placed his hands on his hips and grinned at the two orphans. “I’m assumin’ you two know how to ride?”

* * *

Though she’d had been living in Wisconsin for years, Maebh had never been to Black River Falls. It was some distance from camp, so they packed an overnight bag at Dutch’s suggestion. They rode out and took breaks for food and sleep that night, considering they and the horses needed a good rest. Their time around the campfire was usually spent with Dutch retelling old stories about his gang. Taking Arthur’s presence into account, he told Maebh and William about how he stumbled across the former as an unruly teenager and quickly recruited him. She was relieved that neither of them pressed her about where she came from. It was easier to not have to reject their curiosity. Whenever she and William decided to divulge about their past would only happen when they felt comfortable and ready to trust these strangers from the West. The one thing Dutch didn’t talk about was the reason why they were heading to this small Midwestern town. Apparently, all would be explained once they got there. Arthur was no more helpful than his mentor.

When they awoke the next morning, they continued on their journey and arrived at Black River Falls in the middle of the afternoon. From what she had heard of the town, it had been a thriving and homely settlement, but there was something strangely eery about the place now that she was there. As they trotted through its muddy streets, she noticed that the residents seemed somewhat dreary and bleak rather than appearing like a flourishing community. They safely hitched their horses outside a saloon and slowly headed indoors.

“Are you seein’ this?” William asked her in a hushed tone, slyly nodding to the people she had been intrigued by outside.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Doesn’t seem like a flourishin’ town to me.”

Before they could exchange any further words, Dutch told them to get a table off to the corner of the room. As the older cowboys went to the bar and made orders for the group, Maebh and William sat down and got a good look at the patrons in the saloon. It was surprising to see quite a fair amount of people in a saloon at this time of day.

“Right,” William sighed. “This is a bit weird now.”

“Agreed. Shouldn’t all these people be at work, or somethin’? They can’t all be outlaws or just passin’ through.”

Under the dim lighting of the saloon, Williams features were sharper than usual. “Why would Dutch ask us to come here of all places? It’s bloody depressin’.”

Dutch and Arthur soon returned with food and drinks in hand. Not exactly expecting much, Maebh wasn’t surprised to see a bowl of oatmeal was the only thing on the menu at the moment. She was somewhat amazed that they were allowed on the premises given their age, but the patrons seemed to care very little. She supposed at least they weren’t drinking any beer, so nothing overtly illegal was going down.

“So,” Maebh began slowly, having eaten half of her meal. “What exactly is the deal with this place? It’s kinda…”

“Miserable?” William finished for her, uncaring of how blunt he sounded.

Arthur snorted at that. “Well, you ain’t wrong, kid.”

Dutch set down his whiskey and answered calmly. “I wanted you two to see this place with your own eyes before I told you what we were doin' here. This town was a thrivin’ place not that long ago, but since then the lumber industries and the mines have shut down and shipped out. For most of the people livin’ here, that was their only source of employment. So now, they ain’t got no jobs and, with no one earnin’ any money, the banks are beginnin’ to fail too, and it won’t be long before they do. The people are positively petrified of the impendin’ winter later this year and there’s talks of starvation if they can’t afford food. They’re stuck out here with no help from any government or Pinkertons — they don’t give a shit about these poor unfortunates, but we do.” He proceeded to sneakily point at the saloon’s patrons. “This is where most of the gang’s half of the stagecoach money will go. These people are in for it for years to come, and we ain’t gonna sit back and watch as the government don’t do nothin’ for ’em. If we did nothin’, then we might as well bury ’em ourselves. Now that you’re in the gang, this is the kinda good you can help bring to the people who need it.”

Without another word, Dutch got to his feet with a bag over his shoulder, inside which was most of the gang’s share of the robbery. He quickly passed off half to Arthur and the pair of them went around the room, handing wads of cash to the stupefied customers. Maebh looked on in hidden admiration as Dutch conversed with the townsfolk, seemingly enjoying their thanks and words of delight. Arthur, though more reserved and polite, waved off their gratitude with a simple nod and urged them to spend the funds on food for their families. Maebh looked to her brother, who usually showed little emotion on his face for others to see, but even he was taken aback by this move.

As Dutch and Arthur moved outside to meet more of the locals, the siblings followed, eager to see the reactions that were sure to come. She observed carefully as Dutch began to address the small crowd that had gathered with words of a lawless America and ‘the ill that civilisation has brought unto the hard-working people that keeps this nation alive’. It was a sight to see, and although he clearly relished the attention, his actions were good and selfless. It was a large sum of money, one that the gang could have used to its advantage, but they would rather give it to those who lost their jobs and feared for their survival.

“The only way we can live in these United States, my friends,” Dutch continued, passing money into the sooty hands of Black River Falls grateful locals. “Is by supportin’ each other. Civilisation would rather have us as dogs lickin’ are their shitty boots. Ain’t no man I’m gonna worship, save for God.”

“Did you think this was goin’ to happen?” she asked her brother from their spot outside the crowd.

“No,” he admitted. “But I have to admit, it’s a noble move.”

“And I think it gives us a better idea of who the Van der Linde Boys are.”

“It surely does.” William smirked before turning his attention from Dutch to her. “I think we might’ve made a good decision for once, Maebh.”

Giving him a curious look, she eyed their new leader who had the crowd in the palm of his hand while Arthur continued to hand out money.

The grand speech continued, spoken now with even more vigour. “So we are returnin’ this money to the pockets of those who need it. Consider it a generous donation from the government of this land, taken without their permission by outlaws who have already experienced hardships at their hands.” At that, Dutch met her gaze and gave her a nod. “This is how you live in America. We are livin’ and we are survivin’, because it’s the only thing we can do while they threaten our very existence. This is how we will live, or we are gonna die tryin’.”

“Yeah,” Maebh said, agreeing with William’s point. “I think we’ll be alright with these lads.”

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