Jul 2, 2023
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Costa Rica
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Thailand
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Korea
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from South Korea
Turn of the Seasons: Fall 2020 Writing Prompt!
Hello!
You may know me as Apfelessig on AO3. This year, I’ve organized my first ever Collection and it’s for the vibrant and hoppin’ Turn fandom! I had a blast reading all the submissions and couldn’t be happier to present to you this season’s offerings.
🍁🍂⭐Thank you to everyone who submitted! ⭐🍃🌿
We have some incredible pieces you can READ HERE!
The submissions criteria were...
Just saying, an amc Turn version of Heathers The Musical where Anna Strong is Veronica and Simcoe is JD
Wanna suggest the other roles?
Benedict Arnold could be Heather Duke
In other news: I’m still in love with Turn
And my friend @mayday1284 isn’t helping
i know i’m a fuckup but i’m really into how anna spends every opportunity plotting to kill simcoe and he’s just completely in love with her.
Besotted
The house was still. Simcoe lay in the darkness, ears straining to catch the small night- noises...the creak of settling timbers, the rustle of dead leaves in the wind, and far, far away the high and piercing shriek of a rabbit being torn by a fox. A moment passed, but the eerie keening did not. It grew louder, nearer, more human. The hair began to prickle on the back of his neck. He knew that voice.
Noiselessly, Simcoe slipped from his bed and moved towards the door. In a few strides he was at her door, ready to strike, to kill, to tear apart anyone who dared to harm her. He burst in, lunging towards the bed where her small body thrashed in a terrible struggle beneath the bedclothes. His hands closed on nothing. Startled, Simcoe ripped back the blankets, revealing only his beloved Anna, unharmed and apparently asleep. He whirled, expecting to confront an enemy lurking in the dark corner. None appeared. His breath was coming hard, clouding in the cold as he swiftly moved around the room, reassuring himself that there was no threat, finding no evidence that anyone had been in the room. The sound began again, causing the Captain’s heart to freeze. “...Mrs. Strong?” He hesitated, still gripping his blade. Was she asleep? He would frighten her if she woke to find him armed and standing over her in his nightshirt. He set the dirk down on her nightstand. “Anna.” In the moonlight, he could see her eyes were open, but she seemed completely insensible. Her dark hair curled where it clung to her face and neck, her thin linen shift was damp and clinging, twisted out of place and exposing her white limbs to the cold night air.
“...stop — please, please don’t!”
“Mrs. Strong...wake up.” His fingers trembling, he reached for her shoulder and gave her a tentative shake. “I’m...afraid you are having...”
“Don’t leave, please!”
Captain Simcoe swallowed hard. How long had he waited to hear her say those words? How many sleepless nights had he imagined her begging him to stay beside her? Rationally, he knew these words were not for him, that she was deep in some dark world of her own making and unaware of his looming presence. But it made his belly tighten. Slowly, he reached out and drew the damp and heavy blankets up, covering her small frame, hiding the smooth expanse of her bared thigh and the tender curve of shoulder. His throat felt tight, his heart pounded. He would not violate her modesty by gazing on her in this state. As he tucked the blankets up around her, her hand closed on his, trapping it in a grip so tight he felt the bones of his hand grind together.
“Promise me,” she gasped, eyes closed now. Her breathing was slowing. He allowed himself the momentary folly of imagining that she was soothed by his touch, that that sweet, pleading request was meant for his ears. With his free hand, he smoothed back her hair, tucking it behind the pink shell of her ear with infinite gentleness.
“I promise,” he breathed into the dark. “I’m here.”
Anna clung to his hand, held it close against her hot cheek, and was soon sleeping sound and untroubled. He sat beside her, sinking into the edge of the straw ticking of the mattress with a rustle. He would not allow himself to stare at her naked limbs, but he could see nothing improper about gazing down at her now. He had been struck by her dark beauty the first time he set eyes on her, harassed and disheveled as she labored behind the tavern bar. Now, her features relaxed and still, she seemed — if possible — even more breathtakingly beautiful. With a long finger, he traced the smooth black wing of her brow, the soft arch of her cheekbone, the delicate line of her jaw. That stubborn chin, the sweet, girlish nose.
Besotted.
That was the only word for this, he thought, with grim amusement. He was completely besotted with this little witch. His fingertip grazed the fullness of her lower lip, his whole body aching for her, aching to pass his lips over the paths his finger traveled, to taste the sweetness of her kiss again. He drew his hand away, not trusting his self-control any further. She had allowed him that one kiss, a few fleeting seconds of absolute bliss, but he had wrung it out of her. His pride smarting, he had made as much of a spectacle of it as he could, making a show of claiming her mouth as the town looked on. And her look of contempt smote his heart as she had dragged her hand over her swollen lips, wiping away the touch of his. His expression hardened now, looking down at her in the darkness, as his defenses slid back into place. Simcoe eased his hand from her grasp and moved to the door.
“Sleep well, Mrs. Strong,” he said quietly.
Gif: majorjohnandre
ship ask anncoe ❤️
Who cooks: Anna because she doesn’t trust John with prepping the food citing poison and him having sharp tools as a genuine concern.
Who does the laundry and other chores: Anna does the laundry. John gets the firewood, protects the house from dangers, and hunts/ shops for the food. She tends to the children and occasionally joins John on the hunts and shopping trips. John tends to tell the kids bedtime stories, granted they are approved of by their mother.
How many children do they have: as many as he wants. (probably 5-8) *coughs*
Who’s more dominate: John but he allows Anna to have days where she can take the lead because he doesn’t want her to feel suffocated.
Favorite nonsexual activity: cuddling, dancing, walking, sometimes John takes her hunting with him, they like to debate, go horse-back riding, and sometimes travel.
Their favorite place to be together: anywhere
Any traditions: They enjoy going to museums and reenactments. Especially, on specific days of the battles nearest them. Although, he is not a huge fan of the museum or battle of Yorktown. Sorry, Simcoe. Anna still loves dragging him there. For the kids, they host treasure hunts, code-breaking competitions.
Their “song”: Angel with a Shot-gun, Bad Company, I’d Come For You
What they do for each other on holidays: Simcoe uses Valentine’s Day to leave Anna all kinds of soft love notes and to scare any guys away who might have the wrong designs on his wife. Anna bakes him heart-shaped cookies and plans a romantic night in.
Halloween, John finds the best costumes for the family. He does a superb job of decorating the house. Who knows, maybe there really is a live corpse or two on their property. Anna indulges him and makes all kinds of spooky looking treats for him and their family.
For Christmas, they exchange presents and homemade cards. Anna decorates the house entirely and John helps her clean it up at New Years. He does hang mistletoe in places he knows he can get a kiss from Anna. She finds it rather cheesy but can’t help but reward him for his good behavior. XD
Where did they go for their honeymoon: Ontario, Canada. Maybe even Niagra Falls.
Where did they first meet: Setauket, Long-Island, he was a visitor in her bed & breakfast/ tavern.
Any pets: a dog, several barn cats, maybe a few birds
What do they fight over: politics. Politics. Politics. History and the use of violence to solve problems.
Do they go on vacations, if so where: They are more homebodies than super eager travelers after their experience in the war. That said, they do still enjoy traveling, they just don’t do as much as they had during the war as it is too rough to start a family with a nomadic lifestyle. They like visiting battle sites. Occasionally they enjoy camping outdoors and retesting their survival skills. They also enjoy exploring new territories and other cultures.
@greenofallshades I tried. XDD