#girls downhill slide

[sapphirebluebird]

girl the way i just vomited up my entire breakfast while just trying to take a shit like what kind of frontal bodily assault was that

[chocostrwberry]

I was thinking it be cool if Marinette was extremely lucky-

Like it’s a part of her character. She even introduces herself as “I’m Marinette, and I would say I’m a pretty lucky girl!”

Marinette being the type of person who would tell you stuff like “Oh I was worried about eating out today but then I found a 50 dollar bill so everything worked out!” Or “Apparently the road to school was blocked off, but I got there just in time for it to clear out so I wasn’t late to school!”

She finds a lil white dog at the park one day, spends some time looking for the owner out of kindness, and the owner turns out to be an old woman. BUT that old woman is extremely wealthy and a few months later turns out she had decided to sponsor Marinette’s education in her will so she can go to the most private school in Paris

Because she stands up for Juleka, Marinette starts dating Luka, and it turns out he’s one of Jagged Stone’s children so he put her on an album cover as a present AND free publicity for her designs.

Adrien, a TOP MODEL falls in love with her because she returns his mother’s necklace instead of destroying it, basically establishing the love of her life and a secure future if she likes him back.

Nino saying “This is Marinette’s world and we’re all just living in it” as a joke-

But when she gets the Ladybug miraculous, her life starts to fall apart. It’s kinda ironic, that the miraculous of luck happened to make her life worse off, but that might just be a silly side effect of being the holder? Like fate has it where it’s attracted to lucky people, but then it neutralizes it?

And so throughout the show, there are moments where like “everything turned out okay in the end”, but mostly it’s just one super slide of her civilian life going downhill. She still has moments where good things happen to her seemingly out of nowhere, but I’d like to think now they don’t last as long as she’s use to. They’re more fleeting, if that makes sense, because something always happens that ruins it.

Chloe invites her to her birthday party because they’re finally not enemies anymore, but then takes the blame for ruining it

Dates chat noir, her idol and crush, but he breaks up with her and gets akumatized

So you see her going from this happy-go-lucky girl who’s just like “Hee hee, oh well!” to a paranoid and anxious “I have to be careful, something bad is going to happen soon.”

[zelikessalad]

Terzo Baby Girl

i haven’t drawn Terzo in a BITTTTTTTT so i decided to hit him with the “:3c” beam

i feel like my art is taking a downhill slide rnnnnn so ima try just doodling a shit ton so maybe spam coming soon 🫶🫶

[thewalkingthread]

you're losing me - R.G.

part 2

pairing: rick grimes x reader

summary: officer friendly gets too friendly with a certain blonde haired woman

warning: cheater!rick, swearing, kinda sad, established relationship, not a happy ending

a/n: idk man, hope you like it

word count: 1,991

"It's already dead, ya know? Don't have to keep stabbing it." Daryl grunted as he dropped his plate of food on the table, sitting in the empty spot of the wooden picnic table next to you.

You glanced down at your food, multiple holes littered the piece of meat from you stabbing it with your fork. You sighed, dropping the fork on the plate and rubbing your clammy hands on your jeans.

Your eyes landed back on the two people a few yards away. They've been laughing and talking for the past 20 minutes. Not a care in the world. You couldn't hear what they were saying, the chatter and noise of the picnic party drowning out their conversation. It didn't matter though, seeing their interactions told you enough. Some people would say they looked quite good together. Except, the only problem is, the man was your boyfriend.

"He ain't gonna do nothing with er." Daryl's eyes followed yours. You roll your eyes, your hands tightening in a fist.

It's been 5 months since the group arrived to Alexandria and you had a bad feeling about Jessie the moment you saw her.

The first day you arrived, you and Rick took a much needed shower together. While you opted to unpack the little stuff you guys had, Rick was downstairs getting a haircut from Jessie.

You walked into the kitchen, surprised that you had a guest. You were even more surprised to find Rick shirtless, sitting in a chair while this woman runs her hand through his hair.

"Wouldn't be too sure." You muttered back, forcing yourself to look down at your plate.

Daryl grunts beside you, giving you a nudge. "Rick's done a lot of stupid shit, but I don't think he's dumb enough to fuck things up with you. If he does, it's his loss, anyway."

Daryl's words are supposed to be comforting, but it does the exact opposite. Was it a possibility that Rick would betray you like that?

You glanced back up at the two again. Jessie threw her head back in laughter as her hand lands on his chest, slapping him playfully. Ever since Rick killed her husband, the two of them have been awfully close.

Everyone has noticed. You don't miss the passing glances and sorry looks on peoples faces whenever they pass you. You know what they're thinking. You'd be thinking the same thing if you were in their shoes.

Something changed the night Rick killed Pete. Not just for Alexandria but for the two of you as well.

It didn't happen all at once. It was gradual. Rick was slowly pulling away, he probably didn't even realize it. But you did. You remember every time he'd come home later than promised. You remember every time he told you one thing and then ended up changing his story later. You remember every time he'd slip out of bed in the middle of the night and sneak back in an hour or so later.

You weren't sure if Rick was cheating on you with Jessie, but you were pretty confident that your relationship was going downhill. It wasn't a matter of if you would break up, it was, when.

"Y'know," You turn your head towards Daryl as he interrupts your thoughts once again. "You could always just tell er to fuck off." He shrugs, bringing the chicken leg up to his mouth.

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching as Jessie's hand grazed Rick's bicep. You huff, standing from the picnic table.

"Atta girl," Daryl slaps the table with his hand as you toss your plate into the trash on the walk towards Rick and Jessie.

Jessie's attention turns to you as you approach the two. Rick smiles at you, holding his arm out for you. You smile, sliding into his body, naturally melting against him.

"Hey, darlin." He mumbles, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Hi," You sigh. "Is it okay if I steal my boyfriend?" You give Jessie a tight lipped smile, tugging on Rick to follow you before she could even respond.

Rick chuckled lightly as you both walked away. "Everything alright, darlin?" He asked.

You shake your head. "Can't say I enjoy other women fondling my boyfriend." You grumble.

Rick stops you both in place. His hands settle at your shoulders as he holds you still to look at him. "She was not fondling me." He rolls his eyes slightly.

"Whatever you say, Rick. Everyone can see the way you two act. Have me out here looking like a damn fool." You roll your eyes.

"How many times are we gonna have to talk about this?" His eyes glared down at you.

"Well, how long are you going to keep flirting back and forth with her?" You scoff.

Rick's jaw clenches tightly as he stares at you. This wasn't the first argument you've had about this topic. You've definitely brought up your distaste to Rick about his lady friend.

"You're being insecure and ridiculous." Rick drops his hands. "If you don't trust me, just say it."

Your eyes widened at his choice of words. You gulped the saliva that built in your mouth. "Fine," You throw your hands up before locking eyes with him. "I don't trust you. Until you can prove to me that I can, I don't want anything to do with you. Feel free to go back to your little friend." You shoot him a glare.

"Fine!" He glares right back. Your jaw clenches as he steps back from you, not really expecting him to respond that way.

"Fine," The word came out as a whisper to yourself as you watched him walk back towards Jessie who was now talking with Maggie and Carol.

You willed yourself to turn around, heading straight towards your shared house. You slam the door shut, locking it behind you before pacing the living room a few times.

There's been several times when your relationship with Rick has been rocky. There have been times where things were said out of anger and the heat of the moment. There's been times when you questioned the future of your relationship.

But it was never like this. Never this... definite.

You spend the next several hours deep cleaning the entire house, doing anything to try to get your mind off of Rick. You hadn't realized how late it was till Carl strolled in with Judith.

"Hey, Y/N!" He nods his head. "What's for dinner?" He looks around the spotless kitchen, noticing there's no food set out.

"Oh shit-" You mumble, looking at the time on the clock. "I'll throw something together..." You pull open the fridge, getting ingredients for a simple pasta dish.

"Hey, uh-" You glance at Carl. "Have you seen your dad anywhere?" You ask, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Carls shakes his head with a shrug, putting Judith on the ground to play. "Not since the picnic. Why? Is everything okay?"

Nope. Not at all.

You force a smile on your face and nod. "Yeah, everything's fine. He just hasn't come home since then. Sure he'll be home soon for dinner."

He wasn't home for dinner.

He wasn't home to say goodnight to the kids.

You let out a deep sigh looking at the clock one more time.

It was almost 9:30 now and he still hadn't come back.

You weren't eager to see him but you knew you both had things to talk about. In defeat, you grabbed a jacket and pulled on your shoes.

You checked on Judith one more time before slipping out of the house to find Rick. You checked the gate first, thinking he'd taken an extra shift on watch just to avoid coming home. When he wasn't there you checked each post on the perimeter, coming up empty.

Eventually you just wandered the streets aimlessly.

You stopped in front of Jessie's house. The lights were all off. Surely he wasn't in there, right? Your eyes landed on the open garage, light spilling from it.

Jessie was probably up working on some art, it wouldn't be the first time. You contemplate going up and asking her if she'd seen Rick recently, but something about doing that just felt so pathetic.

You mustered up the last bits of pride you had left and made your way up the driveway. You were immediately stopped in your tracks when you catch sight of Jessie.

And Rick.

Kissing.

Jessie's arms were slung around Rick's neck while his were gripping either side of her hips. Gripping.

Your entire world shatters at the sight.

The gasp that leaves your mouth was automatic and sharp.

Rick pulls away first at the sound. Even if he didn't know it was you, he knew he was caught.

His eyes go from panic to regret the second they lock onto yours.

"Y-Y/N," He lets go of Jessie, taking two steps towards you.

You stumble back, your eyes moving between the two. Jessie is staring at you with wide eyes, unsure what to do. Rick kept taking steps towards you, matching the steps you took back.

You shook your head, turning away from them and sprinting the opposite direction. You didn't stop sprinting till his calls for you faded to nothing.

There wasn't many places you could run to while confined in the walls, but you couldn't be near him right now. You couldn't go home. You just needed to be alone.

You stopped at the windmill, sneaking to the back and sliding against the wall to the ground. The moment you stopped to catch your breathe, you let the tears fall from your eyes.

Even with how bad things with Rick have been, you didn't think he'd ever betray you like this. The thought of him cheating on you crossed your mind once but you convinced yourself that he was a good man and he would never hurt you like that.

You were wrong.

You wanted to slam your head against the wall. Anything to distract your from the pain in your chest.

The sound of his boots thumping against the dirt met your ears. You didn't take your face out of your hands when you heard them stop only a few feet away from you. You didn't bother looking up even when you could feel him there. You could feel his eyes burning into the top of your head.

"I'm sorry," He said simply.

You almost wanted to laugh.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry."

You drop your hands, looking at his dirty boots in front of you. He crouches down in front of you, hoping to get your attention.

"I just want to know why," Your tired eyes land on his. Rick's mouth opens to speak before he shuts it again, trying to muster up an answer.

Rick sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know." He admitted.

"How long?" You raised an eyebrow at him, doing your best to stop your voice from cracking, but the quiver was there.

"That was the first time. I swear." His hands grab onto yours and it feels like fire on your skin. You yank your hands away, causing him to flinch. "I swear on my life, baby-"

"Don't." You spit out, "You don't get to call me that ever again." You pick yourself off the ground. "I really hope she's worth it, Rick. I hope she's worth losing us over." You sniffle the last of the snot in your nose, stepping to the side to escape Rick.

You were a few strides away when his voice broke through the air.

"It felt like I was losing you... I didn't know wha-"

I didn't know what to do.

Your eyes rolled so badly, they could've fell right out of your head. You spin around to face him once more. His face hidden in the shadows, only half of his face lit by the street lantern.

"Didn't know cheating was a valid reaction to that." You scoff, "Congratulations. You've officially lost me." You call out before walking away from Rick.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

VIII ║ Silver Pony

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 7: Fleabitten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 9: Warmblood }

Rating: E

Summary: And just like that, your week at the Statesman Ranch comes to an end, leaving you grappling with the prospect of saying goodbye to Jack.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, grief, flirting, insecurities, very light soft!dom overtones, sexual innuendoes, risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7.5k

Notes: Here we are, the penultimate chapter of Palomino. I had the last scene in mind since the very beginning of the series, actually putting it into words has been so emotional. Thank you as always for your patience and your love for this series, I'm eternally grateful that you're still with me as we wrap up this beautiful journey cowboy Jack and his Darlin' started almost a year ago ❤️

P.S. Please excuse typos and any mistakes as I had very little time to edit with the husband ill this weekend.

Coaxing Scotch to a halt at the end of the track - the last lookout point before the trail slopes downhill and homeward - you let the leather reins slip long and loose as he stretches his neck and shakes out his mane with a low nicker. 

A hundred feet drop below, between the palomino’s ears turned forward in anticipation, is the Statesman Ranch in all its glory, nestled in the fertile valley of green pasture, with its winding creek and red roofs. You can see tiny people milling about, the stables busy in the middle of the afternoon, and horses grazing in the fields bracketed by white picket fences.

Out of the corner of your eye, Whiskey comes to a stop next to you, close enough that your knee bumps into Jack’s. 

You keep your gaze on the ranch below as you ask half-jokingly, ‘Is it too late to turn back now?’

He chuckles, and you twist towards him, your own lips curling. ‘I believe we had this exact same conversation the first day, darlin’.’

It’s not too late to back out, you know.

Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy.

You don’t even realise you’ve fallen quiet until his calloused hand slides over yours, fingers tangling together. Jack brushes a sweet kiss to the heart of your palm that goes right to the one in your ribcage. 

He cocks his head to one side in a gentle question. ‘Shall we rip off the bandaid, darlin’?’

Knowing there’s no other way around it, you squeeze his hand. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’

Jameson is the first to spot the five of you passing through the backgates. The sight of him zooming up the slope with his ears pinned back in excitement has you laughing, the horses nickering hello as his barks echo in the valley. 

It makes no sense really - you barely know this place after all - but something inexplicably comforting and familiar tugs at your insides as you ride through the ranch. Stable hands call out to Jack in friendly greeting and to you with polite ma’ams, between bales of hay being loaded, saddles and tack polished, and the clang of steel on iron from the farrier’s workstation out back. All the while, Jameson trots faithfully by your side, as if he’s known you all his life.

‘You sure know how to make a girl feel special,’ you coo at him and he barks back, tail wagging.

Jack winks at you and says cryptically, ‘Well, you’re about to feel a lot more special, darlin’.’

Sure enough, when the horses clop into the main stable yard, your jaw drops.

‘Look what the cat dragged in!’ bellows Champ with a huge grin on his face, standing in front of the stable doors with hands on his hips, larger than life than ever.

You chortle at the huge Welcome Back! banner stretched over the barn door, complete with over-the-top cowboy themed helium balloons, bumping into each other in the afternoon breeze. You catch Jack rolling his eyes fondly at the scene.

Champ gives Scotch an affectionate ruffle on the mane as he comes to a halt by the wooden post. ‘So - how was it, m’dear? Was it everythin’ I promised it would be?’

‘Everything and more,’ you answer in the affirmative as you dismount, letting him pull you in for an enthusiastic hug.

‘That’s what I like to hear!’ he beams and pats the palomino soundly on the rump. ‘And Scotch? Was he a good boy?’

‘The bestest boy,’ you gush, throwing your hands around the horse’s neck in a hug. ‘He deserves all the carrots and apples in the world.’

Swinging his leg over the back of Whiskey’s saddle and landing gracefully on booted feet on the opposite side of the post, Jack quips, ‘But you’ve already fed him all the carrots and apples in the world.’

Champ chortles. ‘And what about our cowboy? Was he on his best behaviour?’

Jack points a self-righteous finger at his boss. ‘I’ll have you know our guest rated the pack trip a perfect ten out of ten, so I’ll be expectin’ an immediate raise. Ain’t that right, darlin’?’

A loud scoff coming from the stables turns your head, and you smile when Tequila emerges, wasting no time taking his aim at Jack. ‘Hold your horses, Daniels. Pretty sure the food poisonin’ knocks a few points off!’

Crossing the yard with his usual swagger, he sidles up to the other side of Scotch and tips his hat at you, leaning his elbows on the saddle. ‘Welcome back, sweetheart. Good to see you up and runnin’.’

You bite your lip at the mischievous wink he tosses your way.

Champs harrumps indignantly. ‘You have some nerve askin’ for a raise, son! Poppy was madder than a wet hen she heard about that. As you well know, she expects a full report at dinner tonight.’

Jack huffs in jest. ‘I’m puttin’ in a call to my attorney as we speak.’

The banter is spirited and relentless as the cowboys make quick work of untacking and unloading the horses, Champ insisting you shouldn’t lift a finger and talking for more than the three of you. 

When the stable hands take away the last of the bags with your dirty laundry to be laundered, Jack takes a hold of both Whiskey and Bourbon. Clearing his throat, he seems to hesitate for a second, a tick in his jaw, but he eventually nods at you and says, ‘Well. I best be bringin’ the boys in now. Catch you later, darlin’.’

The bottom of your stomach gives out at the catch you later, darlin’, knocking the breath clean out of you, unprepared for the dread that courses through your veins like lead at the sudden prospect of being apart. Your fingers twitch with urgency, wanting to reach out, grab him by the front of his shirt, and cling to him -

Get a grip, woman.

You physically shake yourself out of it, and instead, try to bide your time. ‘Or, you know, if can I help with anything at all -’

Jack clearly catches on to your reluctance, but Champ is insistent. ‘Absolutely not! Now, it’s just gettin’ to four o’clock, so there’s plenty of time to go back to your room, clean up and join us for sunset drinks in a couple of hours. How does that sound, ma’am?’

Jack’s mouth stretches into a reassuring smile that you wish were imprinted into the skin of your forehead instead. With a promise in his eyes that it’ll only be a couple of hours, he leads the chestnut and pinto into the stables.

You don’t even try to hide the slump in your shoulders and your wistful, lingering gaze on the cowboy’s retreating back, nearly jumping out of your skin when Tequila gives you an almost brotherly pat on the shoulder over Scotch’s back. ‘I gotcha, girl.’

Speaking up, he calls out, ‘Hey Champ, Ginger was just tellin’ me that you got an urgent message from Harry, so you better give him a call back - you know how he gets when you don’t.’

The older man flinches dramatically at the mention of his accountant, flinging his hands up in frustration. ‘Damn distillery is more trouble than it’s worth! I better go - you remember your way back to your cabin, young lady?’

Before you can get a word out, Tequila cuts in, ‘Jack can show her the way if she doesn’t, I’m sure.’

The sly reference goes straight over Champ’s head as he bustles off, but not without a polite tip of his hat. Once he’s out of sight, you smile at the cowboy. ‘I appreciate that, Teak.’

He winks at you and spins on his heels to take Scotch to the washing bay. ‘Consider it part of our excellent service at the Statesman Ranch, sweetheart!’

You find Jack hatless in Bourbon’s box, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline, slick with sweat, when you slip in and shut the door quietly behind you.

‘Whatcha doin’, darlin’?’ he asks with a lopsided smile.

Even though you didn’t run into anyone on your way in, you glance around to make sure you’re alone before grabbing him by the open neck of his shirt and tugging him into you. One palm on his cheek, rough with the stubble starting to peek through since his last shave at the Halfway House, you press your lips to his, blood thrumming with the thrill of sneaking around.

You catch the hitch of his breath with a wet suck on his bottom lip and he groans - too loudly in the mid-afternoon quiet. Cheeky hands wander south and grab you shamelessly by the ass, his tongue questing deep into your mouth, and you can feel him hardening against your stomach, drawing a whimper from you.

Pulling back reluctantly, his nose still on yours, he growls. ‘Such brazen behaviour.’ 

Your tongue darts out and swipes the underside of your upper lip, drunk on the taste of him, and his dark gaze follows. ‘I think you like it, cowboy.’

‘Too fuckin’ much,’ he admits with a pained moan and a chaste kiss to your temple, nose in your hair, as if to calm himself down. ‘You should go clean up, I need to finish up here and you’re distractin’ me.’

You pout, laying your cards on the table. ‘But I miss you.’

His gaze warms at your admission, and he stoops to kiss you again. ‘I know, but it’s only for a little while, okay? I’ll come ‘round your room to pick you up at six.’

‘Fine,’ you reply begrudgingly. ‘Be quick, ok?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he teases and swats you on the bottom playfully as he herds you towards the door. ‘I won’t be long, promise.’

Taking two steps down the corridor, you look back one last time at Jack, who’s still watching you from the stall, leaning on the top of the door. When he blows you a lingering kiss, the thought strikes you unbidden -

If it’s this hard leaving him for a couple of hours.

Feeling the tell-tale sting in your nose and the prickle of tears at your eyes, you push the thought out of your mind - 

You put one foot in front of the other, and walk away.

You didn’t realise how much you missed civilisation until you surprise yourself with the longest sigh under the rain shower. Head bowed under the steady stream, you take your time, lathering yourself until you’re cocooned in olive scented bubbles before rinsing, relishing the firm water pressure soothing the knots and soreness lurking under your skin.

But there’s a deeper ache, one that can’t be reached from the surface.

You have literally not been apart from Jack for the last four days. You’ve been showering together since the Halfway House, for crying out loud. It hasn’t taken you more than the stretch of an arm to catch his hand, or the turn of your cheek to find his lips.

A laugh bubbles in your throat as you wrap yourself in a fluffy towel. The word codependent springs to mind.

Standing in the middle of the room in just your underwear, you sort through the clean clothes that are folded neatly on the bed. Pulling on the prettiest top you brought and the same pair of jeans you wore on your birthday, you dig out your makeup bag and settle in front of the vanity, putting on a Spotify playlist and humming along as you get ready for dinner.

One second you’re blending in your foundation, then the next - liner in your grasp and poised over the corner of your eye - panic rudely sets in.

What if -

What if the chemistry between the two of you was conditional on forced proximity?

What if Jack was only attracted to you because there was literally no other woman for miles and miles?

What if -

You startle at the knock on the door. 

It’s deja vu when you pad across the oakwood floors on bare feet, your heart threatening to thunder out of your chest when you twist the knob clockwise.

Jack is leaning on the doorframe, freshly showered himself, damp locks curling into his forehead. The yellow flannel he’s wearing is new to you, but not the way the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, over his sunkissed forearms.

For one moment of madness, you want to sink your teeth into the thick, sinewy -

‘What is it, darlin’?’ he asks, amused by your scrutiny.

You shrug, fingers fidgeting with a touch of shyness. ‘Just thinking about the last time you were on this doorstep.’

‘When you were swept away by my good looks and charm?’ he quips, arching an eyebrow.

You let him have this one, teasing, ‘Something like that, cowboy.’

Straightening up to his full height, he pulls you in by the waist so that you’re almost standing on the worn leather tips of his boots, the span of his palms warm on the small of your back. He doesn’t even bother checking over his shoulder before brushing a tender kiss on your lips, and it takes you right back to that first time in the field of wildflowers at dawn.

And you just know, in your heart of hearts - there is no what if.

In the middle of nowhere, up in the mountains, the sunset hour demands nothing short of worship. Miles and miles of grassland, trees and summer blooms become altars dipped in bronze at which to prostrate oneself as the sun sinks, rejoicing at the rapture of the end of day.

Whilst not as transcendent as what you experienced on the trail, the last sunset over the ranch is giving as good as it gets. The sun gilds the fields in gold on its descent as the stable hands bring in the last of the horses for the night while the swallows fly home above. The river that winds through the ranch is ablaze with the refracting light, and across the yard, you can hear the impatient whinnying of those waiting for their supper. 

Jack and Tequila are setting up the barbeque and firepit, the orange glow of the twin flames taking the place of the fading daylight. The familiar scent of burning wood grounds you - you’re feeling a bit out of practice being the centre of attention after being alone with Jack for the past week.

Ice cold lemonade in one hand and buffalo jerky in the other, you smile when Ginger approaches with a hug. ‘I’m sure you’ve had to answer this question about fifty times today, but how was it?’

‘You want the short answer or long answer?’

‘I want a dissertation if you have it in you!’

You sneak glances at Jack over Ginger’s shoulder while you chat, and he watches you back from afar as he bustles in and out of the kitchen, always trailing two steps behind Poppy. You catch snippets of their conversation as they go back and forth, and you pick up enough to know that she is grilling him on the ‘food poisoning’ incident. He shoots you puppy eyes every time he passes by, which makes you grin.

You may or may not have been a bit distracted by the cowboy when Ginger asks, ‘So, did you catch Jack washing in the river in the end?’

A violent cough racks your entire body as you choke mid-swallow, and she chuckles, giving you a comforting pat on the back. ‘It’s ok, girlfriend - I don’t have to know!’

You knock back more lemonade and choose to play coy. If only she knew.

Champ is in his element, swapping out your drink for a whiskey soda as the dusk deepens and making sure the snacks platter is topped up with locally made boar and elk salami. Despite only having half an ear in the conversation while he keeps an eye on the dinner prep, he’s somehow still fully invested, and is particularly interested in the photos and videos you’ve been taking on Jack’s DSLR.

‘And that’s what you do for a livin’, young lady?’ he asks, putting on his reading glasses so he can study the photos downloaded onto your phone.

‘Adjacent. I’m in marketing, I do quite a lot of business-to-consumer social media campaigns,’ you explain, switching to Instagram to show him your employer’s profile. 

Champ turns to Ginger. ‘Do we have the social media?’

She exchanges a fond smile with you. ‘No we don’t, boss, but we do have a website. I think it was last updated in 2012.’

Champ holds his chin between his thumb and index finger thoughtfully. ‘What do you think, m’dear? Should we get the social media?’

‘It depends,’ you answer truthfully. ‘If you want to boost occupancy, social media will definitely help connect new guests, and also encourage repeat visits. But if you asked me, I think the real potential is on the distillery side of the business.’

Champ perks up under his cowboy hat. ‘I’m listenin’.’

You tap the bottle of Statesman whiskey that’s sitting on the barrel table. ‘Jack told me that you only handle wholesale orders right now, which is perfectly fine. But if you want to go direct to consumers one day, social media is the way to go. I’ve worked with vineyards and gin distilleries, so I’ve seen how effective these campaigns can be.’

Humming pensively, Champ sips at his whiskey, neat, a faraway look in his eyes as he mulls over your words. ‘Well, that’s somethin’ to think about, I’d say.’

There’s no other way to end the trip than with a western cookout. The barbeque station is packed with trays of beautifully cut and aged meat from neighbouring ranches, sausages and brats, while the smoked brisket and ribs that have been cooking all day are brought out from the smoker in the kitchen. 

On the side, a picnic table draped with a chequered table cloth is crammed with baked beans (smoked in-house), corn on the cob, pasta salad and soda bread; and on the greens front, there’s homemade coleslaw, potato salad and greens freshly picked from the vegetable patch.

It’s a feast of epic proportions, and it doesn’t surprise you at all that Poppy is pulling out all the stops.

Jack mans the barbeque under her supervision, wielding the tongs with showmanship, and your heart purrs at the familiar sight of him cooking by firelight as darkness well and truly sets in. You feel slightly adrift not being by his side, but Champ is keeping you entertained and well fed, piling seconds upon thirds on your loaded plate despite your protests.

By the time Teak takes over at the barbeque and Jack makes his way towards the communal table where you’re all standing, you’re sipping slowly on your third whiskey and soda. You smile at him over the brim of your tumbler which he returns, and your body leans unconsciously towards him, before remembering where you are. He tucks his right hand into his back pocket, and you want to think that it’s because if he doesn’t, he would reach out for you.

Being denied his touch when he’s right there has you shifting your feet restlessly. Your fingers itch for him, there’s an insistent prickle under your skin that you know he alone can placate.

You venture a peek at Jack, wondering if he’s faring any better than you are. Feeling your eyes on him, he turns to you, his gaze dropping to your mouth none too subtly, the muscle in his neck tensing. Caught in the moment, all you want to do is to run your tongue down the hollow of his throat and taste the smoke on his skin -

You look away in case you do anything rash.

You’re barely holding it together when the conversation moves on to your birthday at the Halfway House.

‘And how was the dinner?’ asks Poppy animatedly. ‘Did you like the cake?’

Despite yourself, you beam, ‘Like it? I loved it, thank you so much! I was so spoiled.’

‘Did Jack show you a good time?’

‘Oh I should say so,’ cuts in Tequila despite being six feet away at the barbeque. At Jack’s glare, he quickly adds, ‘He decked out the place real nice, y’know, with balloons and shit.’

With a shake of your head, you chuckle, ‘And he dressed the horses up in birthday hats and tinsel!’

With the barbeque dying down to a low, simmering flame, Poppy slides in a couple of peach cobblers in pie dishes directly onto the embers to warm up. Leaving behind gravy-stained plates stacked up high on the barrel table, the group drifts over to the low-set deck chairs sitting in a tidy circle around the firepit. 

Emptying the last of the whiskey into his glass, Champ calls out, ‘Jack, m’boy, how ‘bout you run to the cellar and grab us another bottle of the fifteen years?’

‘Sure, boss,’ he replies, hanging back and catching your attention. ‘You wanna come look at the cellar, darlin’? It’s quite a sight.’

Champ is delighted. ‘What an inspired idea! Take your time, young lady, it’s not quite the distillery cellar, but we’ll save that for next time.’

Teak gives you a two-fingered salute and a knowing wink as Jack leads the way. ‘Enjoy the tour, sweetheart!’

Jack barely waits until you’ve turned the corner behind one of the barns before backing you up against the wall. You taste whiskey and woodsmoke on his tongue as he pins you in place with his broad frame, and you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.

‘I missed you, darlin’,’ he whispers against your lips.

‘I was standing right next to you, cowboy.’

‘I know,’ he whines. ‘Took everythin’ to keep my hands to myself.’

Your cheeks warm at his words, and you reach up to brush an errant curl back from his eyes. ‘Me too.’

Jack grabs your hand and takes you on what must be a shortcut to the kitchen, since you don’t recognise the route. Practically dragging you down a flight of steps at the back, he lets go of you only to pull open a heavy oak door. Your eyes widen when the orange lights flicker on, stepping into the cellar lined with hundreds, if not thousands of bottles, floor-to-ceiling shelves nestled into stone arches carved into the walls. 

You wander the perimeter of the room, carefully pulling out dusty bottles high and low to inspect the years printed on the labels, but Jack is having none of it. Face nuzzled into the nook of your shoulder, he grinds his half-hard cock into you impatiently, calloused palms sliding under your shirt and squeezing your tits through your bra.

You moan, the sound echoing under the low vaulted ceilings. ‘What are you doing, cowboy?’

‘Want you now,’ he rasps into the back of your neck, teeth catching the sensitive skin.

‘What’s gotten into you?’ you ask, a laugh caught in your throat as he ruts against the cleft of your ass needily, a shudder rippling through you when you feel just how much he wants you through the denim.

‘It’s the change in altitude,’ he rasps, dry humping you in earnest now, his fingers fumbling with the front of the zipper. ‘And you’re really fuckin’ sexy in these jeans.’

‘Such a sweet talker,’ you tease, reaching behind you to undo his pants. ‘We got to be quick.’

He yanks the front of your jeans down so hard the movement jolts you forwards, flipping the denim inside out and dragging it down to the middle of your thighs, your panties going with them. His question is hot in your ear. ‘Want me to use protection, darlin’?’

You don’t skip a beat with an emphatic, ‘No.’

‘Fuck,’ he growls at your one-worded answer. ‘Lettin’ me fuck you bare? I’m one lucky cowboy.’

Your pussy throbs at his words alone, and you gasp in surprise when Jack manhandles you to the middle of the room, where a row of aged barrels rest on their sides, elevated on a sturdy shelf to keep them off the floor. He bends you unceremoniously over one cask so that your front is pressed up against the curved wooden surface, then, kicking your legs apart and notching the head of his cock at the mouth of your cunt, he sinks into you in one determined thrust.

‘Jack!’ you cry out, voice hoarse, filled almost painfully full, suspended on the tips of your toes as he plants his feet and drives into you, pulling out to the tip before plunging all the way back in, so deep you feel him in your throat. His breath is harsh and hot on the shell of your ear, but you can’t hear him over your own cries.

‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he croons throatily, his jeans rubbing the back of your thighs raw as his grip on you bites into your sides, holding you in place as you writhe. ‘Such a good girl, lettin’ me bend you over like this, takin’ me so well.’

Nails skidding over the wooden grain of the barrel as you scrabble for something to hold onto, you mewl, ‘Yes, yes, yes, feels so fucking good, cowboy!’

The slap of skin on skin bounces obscenely off the walls, and between the buck of his hips and his groans, you hear the slick squelch of your pussy stretching for him.

It seems to spur him on, and he snaps harder into you, rasping, ‘Look at you naughty thin’, lettin’ me fuck you in the middle of the cellar when anyone can walk in.’

Only then does it hit you - the absurdity of having fucked your way across the open country on this packtrip, taking for granted the liberty of literally screaming to the high heavens, free from prying eyes and ears. Juxtaposed against the sudden and very real prospect of getting caught, your body instinctively reacts.

Jack feels you clench wetly around his cock, a choked chuckle halfway in his throat. ‘Fuck, you filthy girl, you like that, don’t you? Want someone to walk in on us when I’m balls deep inside this pretty pussy?’

Your back arches, and he slides in so deep you’re sure you’ll be feeling him for days after, even when you’re a thousand miles from here. ‘Yes, yes, yes sir -’

The next thing you know, he’s gripping your hair and pulling, making you watch him over your shoulder. His eyes are black, jaw hanging open and teeth bared, and he’s gone - he’s thrusting recklessly into you, and you have no idea how your spine hasn’t snapped from being bent so far backwards. Then one rope-worn palm comes down on your right ass cheek in a cracking slap, making you gag on a half-groan, slick trickling down your thighs at the sting.

Jack leans over you now, caging you between his arms, his soft kisses on your neck an antithesis to the uncompromising rhythm at which he’s pounding into you. He coaxes, ‘Gonna cum for me, darlin’?’

Two of his fingers nudge between your legs and you whine when they make landing on your swollen clit. You nod desperately, clawing at the smooth wooden barrel under you. ‘Yes Jack, please make me cum. Please.’

‘Don’t you worry, you will,’ he says matter-of-factly, smearing mouth and tongue down the side of your neck. ‘You can do it. Make a mess on my cock, c’mon, darlin’ -’

When you clamp down around him, it takes Jack everything - everyfuckin’thin’ - not to let go and pump into you, fill that tight little cunt as you wail his name, quaking and squirming in his grasp. Air doesn’t quite reach his lungs, and he’s biting so hard on the insides of his mouth that it swells instantly, wanting so badly to mark you, to possess you in the most primal way a man can -

With a strangled groan, he pulls out, but only just - he’s already cumming before he can even wrap a fist around his cock, spurting crudely all over the swollen lips of your pussy and the curve of your ass as he milks himself dry, shudder after shudder. His spend drips so prettily down the back of your thighs, stopping just short of staining your jeans, that he goes light-headed for a moment. He sways, and if not for you grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a lazy kiss, he probably would’ve keeled over.

He looks down at the mess he made, crooning into your ear, ‘You’re so beautiful covered in my cum, darlin’.’

You squeak, startled, when he runs this thumb down your slit, still so slick and wet for him, and he has to fight the urge to fucking scoop up his cum shove it into you, filling you only to have it drool out of you when he holds the pretty lips open -

He feels your eyes on him, like you can tell what he’s thinking. He winces, shame rearing its head as he apologises, ‘I’m sorry, I got carried away. Was it - too much?’

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you pull him down for another kiss. ‘Never. I’ll take everything you’ve got, cowboy.’

Jack somehow has a handkerchief in his shirt pocket, which he brandishes with a flourish, prompting a giggle from you. ‘A gentleman if I’ve ever seen one.’

With a playful smirk, he declares, ‘Damn straight - my mama raised me right.’

Gently, Jack cleans you up, and you’re happy to let him do all the work, your body heavy and sated. When he’s done, he swivels you around and presses his lips to your temple. ‘Come back to my house tonight, darlin’?’

You tuck your nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in deeply. ‘I’d love to, cowboy.’

He’s carefully folding up the soiled handkerchief and tucking it into his back pocket when you hear footsteps on the stairs, and the two of you have barely pulled up your jeans when the door swings open.

There’s a dramatic pause as Teak takes in your dishevelled state and none too guilty faces. Looking distinctly unsurprised, he bursts into laughter nonetheless. ‘The cellar? Is nothin’ sacred to you heathens?’

The cookout winds down over bubbling hot peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream that Teak collected from the freezer in the kitchen on the way back. It’s pushing ten o’clock when Champ calls it a night, and you all help with bringing the dirty dishes and leftovers inside.

Poppy and Ginger make quick work of putting all the food in tupperware and into the fridge. Jack and Teak load up the dishwasher as you finish off the last of your drink.

Champ dusts his hands, as if he’s the one who’s done all the tidying up, and asks, ‘Your flight tomorrow isn’t until afternoon is it?’

You nod, passing Jack your empty glass. ‘Yeah, I need to drop off my rental truck as well, so I think I’ll have to leave around eleven.’

He pats you on the back. ‘Alright then, we’ll see you tomorrow mornin’. Have a good night’s sleep, young lady.’

‘Say goodbye before you go,’ adds Ginger, giving you a peck on the cheek.

‘Dinner was incredible, Poppy, thank you,’ you smile as she pulls you into a warm hug.

The redhead winks at you. ‘My absolute pleasure. I’ll fix you a little takeaway lunch to go tomorrow for the journey home. No plane food allowed for our guests!’

The kitchen empties until it’s just you, Jack and Teak, with the latter grinning at you two like a lunatic. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugs. ‘So you guys wanna hang, or -’

‘Get the fuck outta here, Teak!’ Jack growls.

The taller cowboy ambles over to you, joints loose with alcohol, and gives you what can only be described as a bear hug. 

‘Just try keep it down, will ya? It’s real quiet in the valley at night and some of us have to work early tomorrow,’ he ribs with an insolent wink. ‘Guess we won’t see you lovebirds at breakfast?’

‘Not if you’re there,’ Jack retorts, to which Teak flashes a good-natured middle finger and saunters off into the night.

Jack draws you into his arms and you slump against him, relieved that you’re finally alone. ‘Shall we, darlin’?’

His fingers curl securely around the back of your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles at the base of yours as he closes the kitchen door behind you. It strikes you this is actually the first time you’re holding hands - there was no need for that when you were in the saddle, or camped in close proximity. 

Your cheeks stretch with a smile so wide that the muscles ache. The mundanity of walking side by side, hand in hand, shouldn’t be this thrilling.

It’s quiet other than the grind of gravel under your boots and Jack’s heavier ones. The night air is sweet, the blanket of stars above you just as magical, but it’s not quite the same kind of stillness at the lower altitude. Perhaps it’s the way the sound travels with buildings and other people around, maybe the very physics of it is fundamentally different.

Turning into the parking lot, your attention is piqued by a handsome motorcycle parked all on its lonesome next to the main lodge.

Pride in his voice, Jack says, ‘Darlin’, meet the Silver Pony.’

You know nothing about motorcycles, but you can appreciate the sleek lines, the classy tan leather seat and the retro elegance about her as you circle it. Her silver paint job gleams in the lonely porch light. ‘She’s beautiful, cowboy.’

‘She’s an old girl but she got good bones. I restored her myself,’ he proclaims proudly, before admitting, ‘And well, Teak helped too.’

Opening a little cabinet attached to the side of the main lodge, Jack pulls out a helmet that has you laughing. It’s painted red white and blue, stars, stripes and the full monty, with the word WHISKEY painted across the front in bold formation.

He grins at you. ‘Found it in a yard sale. Too good to pass up.’

Lowering it over your head, he tightens the strap carefully under your chin. It’s a bit big, but it’ll do for a short ride. Blinking up at him, it brings you back to that first day in the stables, and you feel the same pull that you did when he fitted you with your hat.

Except this time, you can do something about it. Standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, you giggle when your helmet slips and knocks into his forehead with a clunk.

Putting on his own sensible black helmet, he plants his left foot by the side of the bike and swings his right leg over the leather seat. 

You’re taken aback by the spike in your pulse at the sight - you’d think that having seen him on horseback all week would have prepared you for it. But there’s something about the way he leans over the top of the motorcycle, thighs wrapped around the metal body, forearms flexing as he grasps the handlebar. 

Starting the ignition and knocking back the kickstand with the heel of his cowboy boot, Jack nods at you. ‘Hop on, darlin’.’

You do, and you don’t need to be told to hold on tight.

The Silver Pony purrs to a stop outside a modest cottage, about a ten-minute cruise from the ranch, down a short dirt track from the main road. It’s pitch black except for the headlights that illuminate an unexpectedly floral front garden. You hop off and take off your helmet before Jack kills the engine, plunging you into a very familiar darkness.

Switching on the light on his phone, he reaches for your hand and pulls you gently to his side, his solid warmth welcome even though it’s nowhere as chilly as it was up on the mountains. Flashing the light towards the front yard, he tells you, ‘Ginger has quite the green finger, this is all her work. It took some time, but the vegetable patch is just startin’ to come through this season.’

Keys jangling, Jack unlocks the front door and ushers you inside, flipping on the lights. 

It’s a cosy space, not big by country standards, but more than spacious enough for one cowboy. It’s clearly a man’s house, with a distinct lack of decorative touches other than a vintage map of Wyoming hanging over a dining table and a crowded bookshelf by the door. Dark wood with orange knots line the floors and ceilings, the warm tones reminding you of nights around the campfire.

Walking through the tidy but lived-in space, you pass an open kitchen with a breakfast bar that backs into the living room. A rustic stone fireplace stands in the corner, bracketed by a cosy sectional with deep seats.

Jack watches you mill about, taking everything in. When you stop by the fireplace, he asks jokingly from across the room, ‘So, what’s the verdict?’

You tease, ‘Not gonna lie - I’m disappointed there aren’t more spurs and lassos on the walls.’

He chuckles and steps into the kitchen. ‘You want a nightcap?’

‘Just water thank you, I think I’ve had enough to drink.’

Filling up two glasses at the sink, he crosses the room to join you at the mantelpiece.

‘How long have you been living here?’ you ask, setting your glass on the shelf after taking a sip.

He takes a moment to reply. ‘I took a long break off work after my wife died, then moved in here straight after. Couldn’t stand bein’ in our house alone - couldn’t bear bein’ there at all.’ He pauses, and his lips quirk with a wry smile. ‘Champ and Teak packed everythin’ up for me and drove it all here.’

His honesty hits you squarely in the chest, the weight of the grief behind his words nearly knocking you back a step. You reach for him, closing the two-step distance and wrapping your arms tight around his waist.

Eyes closed, he lets you anchor him to the moment. Maybe he shouldn’t, but the confession slips right through his teeth. ‘I haven’t brought any women here. Ever.’

He holds his breath as he feels you hold yours. 

You mumble into his chest, ‘You have to stop making it harder for me to leave, cowboy.’

Then don’t. 

The two words are on the tip of his tongue, and for a second, he worries that he actually said them out loud. But he knows he can’t. It’s mad. It’s been a week. It’s not fair on you, not when you have a whole life back in the city, thousands of miles away, and his is right here in the shadow of the Bighorn Mountains.

So he says nothing.

Eventually, you pull back and tip your face up towards him. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the wetness lining the seams of your eyes. 

‘Let’s go to bed, cowboy.’

He watches you from the doorway, where he leans idly against the frame, body relaxed from the whiskey sodas at dinner. The curtains are drawn and the light from the bedside lamp soft, casting orange shades on the walls and your skin as you shrug on the shirt he leaves out for you. The last button done, you snuggle comfortably under his sheets, and his heart lurches.

Not for the first time, the thought crosses his mind -

You look like you belong here.

‘Are you gonna stare all night, cowboy?’ you tease, sinking into the pillows.

He shrugs and closes the door behind him, shedding his clothes as he goes. ‘Can’t help it, darlin,’. You look good in my bed.’

‘It’s so comfy,’ you sigh happily, watching him strip down to his boxers.

‘It’s just the hard ground talkin’,’ he says, climbing in next to you. Bundling you into his arms and sliding one leg between yours, he kisses you, a deep exhale leaving him as he does. You smile so wide the corners of your eyes crease, and he watches as they land somewhere behind him.

His stomach drops when it dawns on him what catches your attention.

But it’s too late. You sit up, leaning over him and grabbing a hold of it with gentle hands.

You stare up at him. ‘Jack.’ 

He doesn’t even remember the last time he really looked at the photo. It’s there when he wakes up, when he goes to bed. It sits on the bedside table by the lamp, probably covered in dust. 

Untouched.

His silence doesn’t deter you, but your tone is soft, and he understands that you’re giving him an out if he wants it. ‘What’s her name?’

His throat goes drier than sandpaper, and he’s suddenly speaking through a mouthful of cotton. It takes him two tries before he manages to enunciate. ‘Addison. Everyone called her Addie.’

‘Was this taken at your wedding?’

He nods, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

‘Look at you all dashing in a suit, cowboy,’ you hum appreciatively, tracing a fingertip over the smart dark grey tweed jacket with navy accents. ‘Where did you get married?’

‘At her parents’ ranch.’

‘Under this magnolia tree?’

He nods again. ‘It was her favourite spot.’

‘She’s so beautiful,’ you say quietly.

His eyes dart to the photo in your grasp despite himself. Swallowing thickly, he says, ‘She’s buried there now, where she was always happiest.’

At that, you return the photo to its place on the bedside table, almost solemnly. This is usually the point when people stop asking questions, so when you snuggle into the crook of his shoulder, gazing at him expectantly, he frowns in confusion. 

‘What is it, darlin’?’

‘Tell me about her.’

Jack is stumped, flustered at your request. He shifts, sitting up stiffly against the headboard. ‘Like what?’

You shrug. ‘I don’t know. Like - how did you meet?’

His answer is short, factual. ‘On the rodeo circuit. We both worked on the tour.’

You give him an encouraging nudge. ‘And? What was she like?’

‘She -’ he pauses and holds his breath, weighing his words. In the end, it’s the truth that he tells you. ‘She was the best person.’

He stutters to a stop again, but you’re still peering at him, your expression curious and open. He knows you won’t push him, he trusts that you wouldn’t. He could reach out and switch off the light right now, and he knows you’d leave it at that.

But a small part of him demurs. He doesn’t have the words to describe it, but something unsettling and hopeful at once stirs in his stomach, one that is stopping him from cutting short this somewhat unconventional pillow talk.

So he tests the words on his tongue, starting with something small. ‘She was a cat person. All the barn cats loved her, no matter where we went on the circuit.’

Watching the way your eyes smile at the detail, he feels a little lighter. He adds, ‘We literally had cats camping out in our truck, and I’m allergic, so I’d be sneezing and covered in hives on the long-distance drives between rodeos.’

You laugh, and his chest swells with the realisation that he doesn’t remember the last time any mention of his wife sparked anything but sad side glances and commiserating pats on the back - let alone joy.

Over the years, he had let go of her joy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much to mourn her this way.

And the guilt that he did this, took the easy way out, is almost too much for one soul-crushing moment - until you lay your head on his chest, unfurling one hand and pressing it into his side, literally holding him together, rib by rib.

He tells you about Addie. Things he’s been afraid to remember, but even more afraid that he had forgotten. Her likes, pet peeves, where she went to college, her favourite show, her irrational fear of butterflies, her favourite dress, the song that always got her up on her feet dancing wherever she was, whatever she was doing, when it came on the radio. 

You listen, picking up on the way his voice falls back into that beautiful Southern cadence that you have come to know as he remembers his wife, nothing but love in his eyes as the guardedness fades with each memory he confides in you. You pepper the pauses with follow-up questions and playful quips where you’re draped across him, one arm folded underneath you and the other over his waist, but you feel yourself nodding off as the hour grows late. 

He holds you to him, his palm spanning your lower back, until you go quiet.

Jack is tired, his own lids drooping with impending slumber, the sprint down memory lane taking more out of him than he expected. Brushing a kiss to the crown of your head, he rolls you off his front and onto your side, tucking you into the rumpled sheets. Spooning you from behind, he murmurs one last thing on the shell of your ear.

‘She would’ve loved you, darlin’.’

Notes: When I first started this series, I didn't have a backstory developed for Jack other than that his wife died eight and a half years before Darlin' comes on the scene. It's been such an organic and fulfilling journey developing his character and his history over the series, filling in the blanks as we and Darlin' got to know him better.

It's so important to me that his wife and his grief isn't pushed to one side for the sake of easy story telling. I've dropped little hints of his bereavement throughout the series, nothing too loud, but it's there in the background, my way of paying respect to one aspect of canon Jack that touches me very deeply despite the mess the movie makes of his story.

Out of all my Reader! characters, I would say that Darlin' is my most unassuming one. Not in a bad way at all, it's just that she doesn't have as loud a personality as Shiv or Pin, or as dramatic a storyline as Sweetheart. But this chapter, she just really came into her own. That last scene will stay with me forever ❤️

Edited to add a reminder that we still have one more chapter to go before we say goodbye to these two. I’m not ready 😭

[shirayuricky]

please give me an sexy college tutor hao. i just want him in GLASSES. and saying smart things while treating me like the dummy i am ughhhh. do you see the vision? thank you xx

(OMG YES PLEASE)

you were a bit behind with your studies, so you booked an appointment with your academic advisor. the academic advisor advised you to search for a tutor, but you don't know anyone in your campus who's one. so they helped you search for one. and your tutor is apparently zhang hao, a pretty famous tutor among the girls in your campus.

during your first session with him, it was all fine. you were pretty focused. and he has no problem with you. but all went a bit downhill at the second session, you seemed a bit tired. he notices it and asks if you need a break. you nodded, giving you a ten minute break.

but what happens next shocked you. a lot. he took off his jacket and walks toward you, taking off his glasses as well. "no. don't." you said. "why?" he asked. you gulped, feeling nervous, "well...it looks good on you..." you answered.

he steps closer, his hands sliding up your skirt, revealing your soaked panties. "all wet for me, hm?" he said. he puts them aside (not pulling it down) and slowly plunges two fingers into your entrance. he starts off slow. and when he sees that you are fine, he would pick up the pace.

and as you were going to cum, a lot of degradation comes out of his lips, which made you cum faster than you expected.

"you look so dumb, taking my fingers like this.." "you like it? you like it when i make you so stupid from pleasure?"

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Flowers

"Yes, this one will do..." Armin mutters to himself as a gentle gust of wind ruffles his hair over his face.

It's early morning, the sun is lazily gliding up the horizon and there's no clouds on the sky. It's the perfect day for Armin to be off cadet duty. The perfect day for him to be out in the field.

But being off duty today doesn't mean he's not on a mission.

"This one too, for sure!"

He looks down at the small pile he's been delicately building by his side and adds yet another one on top.

Flowers. Wild flowers.

Bundles of striking colours and intricate shapes. Poppies, bluebells, daisies, buttercups... the list goes on.

He's been out and about for 30 minutes now, scouting the field for anything that catches his eyes. Anything that reminds him of-

"Aha! You, little one, are coming with me!" He reaches out for a bundle of Forget-me-nots.

He gazes at the beautiful blue petals. Blue like the ocean that he dreams of seeing one day. Blue like the sky above on a beautiful sunny day. Blue like her-

"This. She'll love this" he whispers so quietly, as though it was a secret only between him and the flowers he's turning between his fingers.

Armin reaches out for the rest of the blossoms he'd gathered, but his eyes jump to his watch.

He stands abruptly.

"Shoot! I'm going to be late!"

He starts running back towards the camp, flowers in one hand while the other reaches for some loose string in his cardigan pocket.

He tries his best not to trip while he wraps the delicate string around the flower stems, bringing them all together with a small bow.

"Perfect!"

Armin makes a mental note to thank Mikasa for teaching him how to twist, braid and knot string. He never knew it would come in handy one day.

He admires his work, turning the bouquet from side to side to fix any stray leaves, and for a second he forgets to check his steps.

"Whoa-!!"

Armin suddenly slips, losing his footing for just a second. He rapidly slides downhill towards one of the cadet cabins, though his arm stretches out just in time to stop him from running right into the wooden wall. He stops with a light 'thud'.

"That was... too close..."

He's never usually this reckless, but today he's on a mission. And he absolutely cannot be late because-

"Um...?"

Armin freezes.

He'd reached his destination either too late, or too loudly and now-

"What are you doing here... exactly?"

Now, she's here.

"Uhh..." for a moment he doesn't lift his head to meet the presence peeking out through the window above. The window he already knows too well. The same window that he's been visiting early in the morning for some time now. The window that belongs to-

"A-annie! Good morning!" he does his best to hide the flowers behind his back, laughing awkwardly.

But when he finally lifts his eyes to meet hers he can't help but blush. She's... well. A bit of a mess.

Her hair sticks up in several places, her signature tight bun is absent, replaced by waves of hair that reach just past her shoulders. She has dark circles under her eyes, darker than usual. Her gaze is sleepy and she squints her eyes as if to see him better.

Then she yawns. Annie's just woken up.

Shit.

Shit!

He's just a little too late. If only he woke up earlier himself, he wouldn't have ended up in this position. He wouldn't have had to find an excuse to be-

"Snooping around the girl dorms, Armin?"

"What!? No, that's not-!"

There's a pause. Armin's thoughts are racing, trying to find a way out of this.

When she lifts an eyebrow at him, he can't tell if she's annoyed or amused by this encounter.

It certainly doesn't help that she's so... so...close to him.

He's standing at eye level with the window sill, doing his best to look anywhere else but at her slightly open shirt and the blonde locks of hair tickling her neck. He curses his eyes for wandering.

"Well...?"

Armin's eyes land on her lips as she speaks and the redness of his cheeks instantly travels down his neck.

Shit.

There's no way out of this.

"I-I um..." he starts, clearing his throat. "I guess there's no point in hiding it." He straightens his back, taking a deep breath. He gathers all his confidence to steady himself.

"Here"

Armin pulls the bouquet from behind his back, lifting it up in the air. His fingers are a sweaty mess around the stems and his arms are shaking ever so slightly.

But despite his body language, his expression remains determined when he meets Annie's eyes.

Her beautiful blue eyes.

"They reminded me of you."

(The Aruani fic gods were with me tonight, I hope you liked this!! AAAAA. Now up on AO3 as well!)

(Also dedicated to @annawayne who encouraged me to write this fic based on a Cadet Aruani post I made not long ago. Thank you 🥺🙏)

[spicyicetea]

Oh. My. God. Your bagel is bag.

OKA Y UHWMBELWBWKFVKDVFJ I LOVE LINK.

Anywayssssss I just thought of like BOTW link, before the calamity. AND I HAVE A CERTAIN SCENARIO IN MIND 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

Imagine him and his other soldier buddies seeing you, and his soldier buddies being able to tell that he’s a total simp for you . . . AAAAKWHEKLQKWLEKE

Anyways yeah I thought of this while making churros 💪

Oh and also, yk that whenever I send like scenarios and ideas in here you don’t have to see them as requests, you can also just see them as me sharing my beautiful thoughts. 🤭🤭🤭

PS: AAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE LINK SIDHWKEVLQOQPEJF

Okay, I love the idea that Link is pussy whipped the moment he sets eyes on Y/N. But I want to merge this with an idea I had. Single mother Y/N! This is also gonna turn smutty, I can’t resist.

Warnings: Smut•

BOTW!Link x milf!Y/N

[Link is in his late 20s and Y/N is 25]

Link stared off at a woman walking by the knights he patrolled with. He always had a staring issue with her. Her body moved in a hypnotising way. A wicker basket dangled from her elbow as tiny hands grasped at the fruit she carried within. Her hair flicked wildly in the wind. He knew he shouldn’t look, but her downhill strides caused her heavy bosoms to bounce, his hands flexing at his sides craving to feel their weight.

One of the knights elbowed him in the side, getting his attention.

“Ha?” he muttered.

The knight just smirked and looked past Link to where he was once staring. He whistled and the woman turned and smiled at them. She waved her dainty little hand, oh how soft it looked. Maybe one day he could have that hand intertwined in his own. Kiss the blushed knuckles while sliding a ring onto her finger. That same delicate hand later wrapped around and pumping his-

“Link! She's coming over~” The knight teased, nudging his side.

Link’s eyes widened as he shuffled to hide his... friend, in his trousers with his shield. He couldn't be exposed to her like that yet, it was so indecent. The woman swayed her way over, hips dancing left and right. A dizzying tango catching the breath in his throat as he struggled to swallow his anxieties.

“Hello boys! Good afternoon.”

“Afternoon Miss Y/N! Where are the little scamps?” One of the knights asked.

She giggled, covering her soft, plump lips with her hand as she did. Two kids wormed past her skirt, one crawling through her legs to get through. The small children ran forth and grabbed Link’s tunic with a toothy grin.

“Mr Link, Mr Link! Momma, can we give him the stuff?” The little boy asked, excitedly hoping up and down.

“Hm, I think I have it in my basket,” Y/N rooted through her basket, pulling out an orange loaf of bread. “Here you go.”

The girl grabbed the loaf and giddy held it out to Link. He took it, looking at Y/N, blushing and confused.

“I wanted to thank you for helping b/n and g/n out a few days ago. You saved them from those Chuchus in the forest, so I made you some of my special pumpkin bread.”

Link smiled and took a bite out of the loaf, drooling at the smell alone. The taste was decadent and sweet. He chewed the bread eagerly, quickly going in for a second bite moments later. Y/N chuckled and grabbed his forearm.

“Calm down dear, eat slowly. I don't want you choking,” She smiled and rubbed his shoulder, his face going red as she lent closer, taking a small bite out of the bread he held. “It's not your job to choke, Linky~”

His face flushed bright red as his words caught in his throat. Y/N smiled as she watched the other knights walk away, talking to some civilians. Her tongue traced her lips as she dragged her finger down his arm before pulling it back and nudging his shield to the side. His eyes widened and he gulped, her finger dragging down his chest, resting where his trousers started.

“Y/N...”

“So you can speak Linky! Your voice is so nice,” she smiled. “Are you alright? Am I being too forward? Your friends here told me that you liked me, maybe they assumed wrong.”

She went to pull her hand away but he gripped her wrist tightly, his arm shaking from the panicked motion. He panted while looking at her and she stepped closer, sliding her hand into his trousers. Her finger played with the waistband of his boxers before he pulled her closer with her free hand.

“Please, don't tease me. I can't wait any longer.”

“Oh you're adorable, I'm surprised you've lasted this long. I have been playing with you for a while.”

“What?”

“You haven't noticed? Always giving you “spare” pastries. Unbuttoning my blouse saying it's hot to give you a peek?” Y/N raised a brow leaning closer, pressing her breasts against his chest.

Link bit his lip as Y/N’s other hand tucked a white cloth into his shirt as her other pulled his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring up against his navel. She circled the tip with her finger, smiling innocently at him as the creamy precum coated her finger. He lent further into her touch, biting his lip as the bread dropped from his grip. His shield and bread rest on the ground beside him as they fumbled back against a wall, tall crates hiding them from public view.

Link’s hands grasped her waist as she began pumping his cock in her hand. One of his hands hungrily dove past the waistband of her long skirt and into her underwear. She gasped as his finger prodded at her hole and she stilled her teasing pumps.

“Ah, Link.” She sighed in pleasure.

“Y/N, I can't let you please me and not give you the same treatment. Come on darling, where did that confidence go?” link smirked, flipping the two around so Y/N was pinned to the wall.

He forced his middle finger past her slick folds and onto her tight hole. She whimpered and let her head fall back and rest on the all. Her hand continued pumping on his cock. The tip was red and angry, dribbling precum over her hand. He groaned against her neck as he continued to pump and curl his fingers inside her delicate walls. She moaned loudly as her tongue lulled out of her mouth and he bucked his hips into her fist.

“Link!” She squealed, gushing onto his fingers.

He sank his teeth into her neck as she let out a strangled moan. His body caged her in as he continued fucking his cock into her fist, his cum decorating her skirt in white ribbons. Their heavy pants dance in unison as her arm falls limp against her side. Link’s dick goes limp as he pulls his fingers out of her pussy. He goes to wipe his hands off on his shirt but she grabbed his wrist and shook her head.

“What's wrong?” Link asked with a concerned face.

Y/N just whined and forced Link's hand towards his lips, pushing his fingers into his mouth. He let out a confused noise but gulped as he watched her slide her cum covered fingers into her mouth. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth as he watched her clean her fingers of his cum. He mimicked her, licking her slick from his fingers. They pulled apart and fixed their clothes as quickly as they could.

While fumbling with her buttons, Y/N stepped on the dropped bread. She gasped and stumbled slightly before chuckling.

“Oh no, I guess I’ll have to make you some more bread. Maybe you can stop by later?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.

He grinned and pulled her in for a sweet, passionate kiss. His hands rub her sides as she giggles into the kiss, still fixing her clothes. As they part, she uses her basket to hide the white, sticky stains on her skirt. He rushes to fix his collar, pulling the fabric she had tucked into it in the heat of the moment. She gives him and his knight friends a shy wave as she rushes away with her twins excitedly telling her about how cool the knights were.

“What do you have there Link?” One of them asks. “You two were talking for a while...”

Link just stares silently at the lacy bra she had slipped him without him noticing. He bit his lip to hide his excitement before shoving it down his shirt to hide it and turning to the others.

“Oh, we just spoke about her kids... I'm going to give her more...” he growled, watching her hips sway as she left.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, don't worry.” He smiled to himself.

There you go, dude! Hope you enjoyed the sin, my little bagel bite. @rainstops

[chelseaknoo]

25 days with Eminem

Eminem x reader

Day 19

It was a crisp, snowy morning, and the backyard was blanketed in a layer of fresh powder. The sleds were stacked by the door, and you were bundling Jackie into his snowsuit while Marshall sipped his coffee at the kitchen table.

“Okay, Jackie, let’s get these little mittens on,” you cooed, trying to wrestle the tiny mitts onto his chubby hands. Jackie, however, was far more interested in chewing on the end of his scarf.

“Babe, do you need backup?” Marshall asked, amused as he watched you struggle.

“I’ve got it,” you said, though your tone said otherwise. “Jackie, sweetheart, we need to keep your hands warm, not use this scarf as a snack.”

Marshall set his coffee down and crouched beside you. “Alright, buddy, listen to your mom. Hands in the mittens, and I’ll let you pull on Dad’s hat later. Deal?”

Jackie giggled, as if he understood, and finally let you slip the mittens on.

“See? Bribery works every time,” Marshall said with a wink.

“Don’t encourage him,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling.

By the time you got Jackie bundled up and ready to go, the girls were already outside, dragging the sleds up the hill in your backyard.

“Dad!” Hallie called out, waving a red sled in the air. “We already claimed the fastest one!”

Marshall stepped outside, squinting at her. “You *claimed* it? I don’t think so. That sled is mine!”

“You’ve got no chance, old man,” Stevie teased, already halfway up the hill with Alaina.

You laughed, carrying Jackie outside. “Marshall, don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with them.”

“Me? Hurt myself?” Marshall grinned. “Nah, they’ll be the ones eating snow by the end of this.”

As the family gathered at the top of the hill, Jackie sat snugly in your lap on one of the sleds, his face lighting up as he watched everyone else get ready.

“Alright,” Marshall said, standing dramatically with his hands on his hips. “Rules are simple. First one to the bottom wins. No cheating, no pushing, and no crying when I leave you all in the dust.”

“Dad, you’re the one who’s gonna cry,” Alaina said, rolling her eyes.

Stevie laughed. “Yeah, especially when you wipe out halfway down!”

Marshall narrowed his eyes at them. “Keep talking. Let’s see who’s laughing after this race.”

You shook your head. “Marshall, please don’t turn this into some extreme sports competition. We’re here to have fun, not recreate a snowboarding championship.”

“Fun *is* competition,” he said, grinning.

You positioned your sled with Jackie in front, holding him securely. “Alright, ready? On three! One… two…”

Before you could say “three,” Marshall launched himself downhill, laughing wildly.

“Cheater!” Hallie yelled, hopping onto her sled and chasing after him.

Stevie and Alaina followed, their sleds veering slightly to the sides as they tried to catch up. Jackie squealed with delight as your sled started sliding down the hill, the wind rushing past his face.

“Hold on tight, buddy!” you said, laughing as you tried to steer.

At the bottom of the hill, Marshall was already dusting snow off his jacket, looking smug.

“See? Told you I’d win,” he said as Hallie skidded to a stop beside him.

“You cheated!” she accused, pointing a gloved finger at him.

“Cheating or strategy? Same thing,” Marshall replied with a shrug.

Stevie and Alaina tumbled off their sleds, groaning dramatically. “I think I hit a rock,” Stevie muttered, rubbing her back.

“Or maybe you’re just bad at sledding,” Alaina teased, earning a snowball to the arm.

Meanwhile, Jackie was babbling happily, his cheeks rosy from the cold. You lifted him out of the sled and held him up. “Who’s the real winner? Jackie is!”

Marshall walked over, playfully ruffling Jackie’s hat. “Alright, fine. Jackie wins by default. But I’m still the fastest.”

Hallie shook her head. “No way. We need a rematch.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Marshall said, grabbing his sled and heading back up the hill.

You sighed, laughing as you followed with Jackie. “I feel like this is going to end with someone face-planting in the snow.”

“Probably,” Stevie said with a grin, grabbing her sled.

As everyone trekked back up the hill, the sleds in tow, you kept Jackie snug in your arms, his little giggles making the climb a bit easier. Marshall was already hyping himself up for the next race, talking smack to the girls, who weren’t about to let him win again.

“I’m just saying,” Marshall called over his shoulder, “I could do this all day. You guys? Not so much.”

“Dad, your knees probably won’t let you do this all day,” Hallie shot back, smirking.

“Don’t bring my knees into this,” Marshall replied, pretending to be offended. “My knees are the MVPs of this family.”

“They crack every time you stand up!” Stevie added, laughing so hard she almost dropped her sled.

You couldn’t help but chime in. “Babe, let’s be real. If your knees are the MVPs, the team’s in trouble.”

Marshall stopped halfway up the hill, spinning around dramatically. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, I don’t hear any of you thanking me for being the *entertainment* today.”

Alaina, dragging her sled with one hand, raised an eyebrow. “Is ‘entertainment’ what we’re calling face-planting into snowbanks now?”

“That was *one time,* and I was distracted,” Marshall argued, pointing at her.

“By what?” Hallie laughed. “The sound of your own knees cracking?”

Even Jackie chimed in with a babble that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and everyone cracked up.

When you finally reached the top of the hill again, Jackie squirmed in your arms, clearly ready for round two.

“Alright,” Marshall said, dropping his sled dramatically onto the snow. “This time, no shortcuts, no pushing, and no excuses when I win. Got it?”

“Got it,” Stevie said, grinning as she positioned her sled. Then she turned to Alaina and Hallie and whispered, “We’re pushing him off course, right?”

“Absolutely,” Alaina whispered back.

You overheard and shook your head. “Girls, if this ends in chaos, don’t blame me when Marshall holds it over your heads for the next decade.”

Marshall looked suspicious. “What are you whispering about over there?”

“Nothing!” the girls said in unison, their innocent expressions fooling no one.

Jackie was starting to fuss, so you settled into your sled with him on your lap again. “Let’s just go before someone gets buried in a snowbank.”

Marshall raised a hand. “On three. One… two…”

This time, everyone yelled “THREE!” at the same time and launched themselves downhill.

Stevie and Alaina immediately steered their sleds to box Marshall in, laughing as they managed to bump his sled slightly off course.

“Oh, it’s like that?” Marshall yelled, leaning to try and gain control. “You guys are playing dirty!”

“Strategy, Dad!” Hallie called from behind, speeding past him.

You and Jackie were laughing as your sled picked up speed, but then you noticed Marshall veering dangerously close to a bush at the bottom of the hill.

“Marshall!” you yelled. “Steer left!”

“I’m trying!” he shouted back, but it was too late. His sled hit a bump, launching him into the air before he landed face-first in the snow.

Everyone else slid to a stop at the bottom, laughing so hard they could barely breathe.

“Did you see that?” Stevie gasped, clutching her sides. “He flew like a cartoon character!”

Marshall sat up, snow clinging to his face and coat. “You guys are *so* grounded.”

“You can’t ground us for your bad sledding,” Alaina said, still giggling.

“Oh, I can, and I will,” Marshall grumbled, brushing snow off his jacket.

Jackie clapped his mittened hands together, clearly entertained by the chaos. You couldn’t stop laughing as you helped him out of the sled.

“Babe,” you said, walking over to Marshall, “that was… impressive. In a very ‘don’t try this at home’ way.”

“Glad I could provide the entertainment,” Marshall muttered, though he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Round three?” Hallie asked, already dragging her sled back up the hill.

“Absolutely not,” Marshall replied. “I’m officially retired from sledding.”

Stevie smirked. “Aw, what’s wrong, Dad? Knees giving out again?”

“That’s it,” Marshall said, grabbing a handful of snow and lobbing it at her.

It missed, but it was enough to start an impromptu snowball fight that had everyone running for cover. Jackie squealed with delight as you held him, dodging a flurry of snowballs while Marshall tried to defend himself against the onslaught from all three girls.

[wildlife4life]

Happy Birthday to ME!

In honor of my birthday today, I am celebrating by dropping chapter 2 of Three Taps for the Lombardi aka NFL Buck! YAY!!!!!

All the love and major props to @hippolotamus for beta reading and for the edit of Red's door in the fic!

Three Taps for the Lombardi

Mature // 3.9K // Chapter 2 “Chimney basically outed me to the team today. So now they all know I’m gay and have a boyfriend,” Eddie tells Buck when he slides into the bed later that evening. He gently nudges Jade, their black coat retriever mix, from her resting place next to the man who first bought her home.  She huffs in displeasure and leaps down, padding out of their bedroom, most likely heading to Christopher’s room. His boyfriend quirks an eyebrow. “Outed you? Have you been trying to hide it? I thought we agreed-“ Eddie groans. “I know what we agreed to, and I wasn’t hiding that I’m gay, but I’m not going around saying, 'Hi I'm Eddie Diaz from Houston and I only like dick.” Buck chokes on a laugh, but lets him continue. “I’ve been calling you my partner, no gender attached.  But then there were these girls at this awful country bar and they were being very persistent-“ “And you got annoyed, so you pulled the gay card,” Buck says with understanding. The fireman snorts. “Told them I have a boyfriend and I guess the team overheard, or my voice carries really well, I don’t know. But anyways we get in the truck and Chimney blurts out, ‘You’re gay?’ and it was all downhill from there.” Buck is shaking the bed with how hard he's laughing. "Oh my god, Eddie! He didn't out you, you did that yourself!"

Counting this as my seven sentence sunday as well... So thank you for the tags @diazsdimples @wikiangela and @daffi-990

Tagging (no pressure): @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @devirnis @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @theotherbuckley @spotsandsocks @cal-daisies-and-briars @aroeddiediaz @sunshinediaz @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddiiediaz @spaceprincessem @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @perfectlysunny02

[portraitsofguilt]

𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 — abby anderson

— “they messed you up but i can set you free.”

content warning/s — DARK CONTENT, female reader, mean/toxic jock gf! abby anderson, reader wears skirts/dresses, kinda deranged abby?, violence, manipulation, a door gets broken down, masochist/sadist duo, pre-established relationship, suggestive end

a/n — if you know you know, enjoy !!!! also there was just no way for me to not to use y/n in this, sorry.

“YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART, CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED.”

there is hardly any air in your lungs, you can barely take a full breath as you run towards your dorm room. you want to take a peak over your shoulder so badly, but trying that would result in you tripping and her catching up to you, losing being ahead of her by only a few seconds. you shut the door behind yourself as quickly as you can, turning the lock even faster before sliding down the inside of your door.

“y/n!” BANG BANG BANG!

abby shouts angrily as she slams her fist against the wooden door, bending it from the hinges slightly before she takes a brand and tries to calm herself down. “open the door please, baby please open the door.” she rattles the handle, first with only one hand then two, clicking her tongue quietly when it doesn’t budge but abby is determined, trying again. “y/n can we not fight anymore please, can we not fight anymore?” her voice cracks, it’s forced, not that you can tell.

as you stand on the other side of the door, tears running down your cheeks as you listen to your girlfriend shouting, pleading, and trying to break down the door that is separating the two of you. this fight… you can’t remember how it started, just that it was about something important to abby and everything has been going downhill since then. 

“baby, sure you’re scared i’ve been there, i can set you free!” abby starts again, “i swear you will change your mind if you simply come with me tomorrow.” there is a few beats of silence, you can only hear your heart beating and her heavy breathing. “just.. baby, open the,” her voice cracks once again, she takes a deep breath and sighs out.

“open the door please, sweet girl please open the door. i promise this can all be fixed, just open the door.” she tries the handle once again, still nothing and now she is done playing the nice guy, if it won’t work then this will. “y/n, don’t make me come in there, i’m gonna count to three!” abby shouts once again, banging even harder on the door, splintering the side she as on. there is still no answer.

“one!” she stars counting down, “two!” she continues, hoping that you would get what she is suggesting but when there is no answer and the handle is not turning she has no choice. “fuck it!” she screams before kicking the handle, once, then twice, then a third time before it opens and you jump away.

the door opens abruptly, more like is broken down by abby, before shutting it close behind her, or rather just trying to but it will be needing a fix later, she couldn’t care about it tho. she stomps her way over to you, rolling her sleeves up on her arms, her eyes burning with rage as her combat boots hit the wooden flooring and making the room shake the slightest.

she stares at you for a second, without a word before crouching down next to you, taking your cheeks between her grip. her look frightens you and it takes you less than two seconds to collide with her, hug her, have her arms around you, and have her kiss the top of your head while you apologize profusely for ever becoming upset.

“it’s alright, baby.” she murmurs into your ear, a smile spreading over her lips as you sob into her shoulder, “good girl.”

and as you are under her like this, so vulnerable and pathetic, crying, begging for her forgiveness, she cannot stop her urges as she pulls away and pushes you up on the bed. abby’s mind is already there as the tears roll out of your eyes. “you were so stupid, weren’t you?” you nod as she talks, biting the inside of your cheeks as you try to hold back your sobs.

“we can- you can fix it… what do you think?” she asks, her hand gliding up your legs as she kneels between them. you nod, eagerly so. oh how pleased she was, all those stupid lies that the other student stuffed into your head in the morning long gone, only abby was on your mind and the things she wanted to do to you… you were a freak, just as deranged as her, aren’t you? “please, i want to fix it.” you say with your fragile voice, pulling a sickening grin on abby’s face as the hand from your thigh snakes around your throat and she leans down to kiss you.

she is rough, just as always, biting your bottom lip and sucking your tongue just to tease you, her knee between your legs and hitting it against your clothed cunt. not like you were gonna complain, you liked her being this cruel.

[sopaprimordialy]

Hey boppers! Inspired by @almosthonest's post, I decided to make my own Warriors OC and share how they got initiated! I hope you guys enjoy it and feel inspired to do it as well :3

————————w————————

Burn Bright, Hilda Hurricane!

Pablo did not expect to make his mom so fucking angry.

Actually, everything about this was a consequence of a huge miscalculation, since he wasn't expecting to see her at all that day. He reflected on his own bad luck as he ran through the dark streets, already far from home, with nothing more than a worn backpack, makeup smeared with tears and a knot in his chest.

Throughout his ridiculously short 17 years of existence, Pablo has always struggled with one thing or another. Being born in an immigrants family trying to find his place culturally — neither fully being his family's nationality, neither fully American — was hard enough; when he realized that there was something wrong with himself that made him attracted to the neighborhood boys instead of the girls, he went through yet another identity crisis, which turned into a very well-kept secret.

After the first time he stole his mother’s makeup and clothes during a particularly inspired night, everything went downhill and he simply stopped caring so much.

He stopped caring about the glares and the comments, because in order to feel bad, one must feel alive above all things; if he only felt alive doing what he did, what's the point in feeling bad? Was it wrong for him to exist?

In his honest opinion, no, it was not. Still, his family was a completely different subject, as the bonds of blood are meant to be different from those forged out in the forest of steel and concrete. His mother was always very strict and stressed, it was almost comical how she passed herself off as a perfect portrait of the "Latina mother" stereotype, but she was not only that: she could also be loving and caring. Pablo always knew that, despite everything, he would always have his mother by his side.

This trust, or rather, hope, made the pain of betrayal by the one who was supposed to love him most even more painful.

He took a turn into a quiet alley, looking both sides before letting himself slide on the wall to sit on the ground. He was shaky, breathing heavily and dirty. Gods, he hated feeling like that, powerless and weak.

Pablo wiped his face with the back of his hand as best he could. Where was he, anyway? Running aimlessly, he had reached an unfamiliar part of the city. He imagined he was somewhere north.

His thoughts were interrupted by a small commotion on the street next to the alley he had pathetically ducked into. Voices were shouting things, but overlapping voices are hard to understand and he was not in the best frame of mind to deal with it, so his sorrow quickly turned into misdirected anger. He was about to stand up and tell whoever was shouting to go fuck themselves, when a speeding figure hit him head on.

The boy screamed and fell back to the ground, his fall cushioned by the backpack full of clothes he had packed in his rush to leave his family's house. He opened his eyes to see a bit of skin, a neck, perhaps? And a bunch of brown hair, covering his vision. The person above him quickly moved to stand up again.

"Get your ass up! Police's comin'!" She said. Her voice was unsteady from running for too long, but she was also practically shaking from exhilaration.

"T-the what? Who are you?! Why the fuck you have skates on?" Pablo jumped, now standing much more alert. He didn't do anything wrong, but he knew he didn't need to have actually done something to have the police up his ass.

"No time to explain!" The girl, who couldn't be much older than him, quickly skated to the end of the alley. He hesitated a few more times, looking toward the street, until he heard the more distinguishable voices shouting unkind insults and ordering the girl to turn herself in. Pablo swallowed hard and followed her.

"There's a wall here!" He stumbled, standing next to her and facing a brick wall.

"I can see that." She answered nonchalantly. Next to the two of them, there was a dumpster, which was exactly what she used as support to climb the wall. Pablo watched in awe as the girl used the front part of the four-wheel skates as a support to keep herself stable. Now on her tiptoes, she jumped and grabbed the edge of the wall.

"A little help would be good!" The girl said through gritted teeth, and that was his clue to climb the dumpster as well and push her up by the waist. When she managed to sit, one leg on each side, she stretched out her hand to help him up.

They proceeded to fall rather ungracefully on the other side. Luckily, it was a small vacant lot with tall grass, which cushioned their fall. They sit there in silence until they heard the police officers approaching, cursing some more, and finally giving up: in their opinion, the girl wasn't worth the effort of jumping over the wall.

"So..." Pablo was first to speak as they caught their breath. "Who are you?"

"Name's Yaya. And you..." She could finally take a better look at him. She made a face instantly. "You look terrible."

"Haha. Thanks. I'm Pablo, if you care."

"Well, now I do. What horrible accident happened to you? Your boyfriend broke up with you or somethin'?" That was not a nice thing to say, but Yaya couldn't resist to mess with him a bit. Pablo frowned, immediately taking note of the fact she instantly knew he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend.

Instead of snapping back, he decided to tell the truth. He was to tired to play this game Yaya was playing. "My mom kicked me out."

"Ah- uh..." She wrung her hands uncomfortably, then put one to his shoulder, now sounding much more empathetic. "That sucks. Tell me more."

"Well, as you can see, I'm not the perfect example of a son. I was supposed to go to this club tonight with my friend, even stole my older sister's ID to get in, but my mother caught me with her make up on. She wasn't supposed to be home so soon tonight but... guess I'm just really unlucky." He hugged his knees, hiding his face a little to keep the tears from coming, then continued.

"I don't even know where this club is anyway... my friend was supposed to pick me up, but I guess she's not going, 'cause my mom will likely tell her I ran away or somethin'. In other words, estoy jodido."

"Ah, hablas español" Yaya said, apparently ignoring the tragic account. Well, she wasn't actually ignoring it, just didn't know what to say. "Where you from?"

"Hm. My family's half Mexican, half Brazilian. I was born here." He was taken aback by the sudden change of subject, but didn't complain. Yaya stood up.

"Which club were you going?"

"Uh... somewhere called 'Hurricanes Club'. I have no idea how the place is" He stood up as well, watching his new weird friend smile.

"Well, honey, I happen to know."

"Wait, really?" a small spark of hope made her face light up, and Yaya's smile grew even wider.

"Come with me."

——w——

It turns out, this place was apparently owned by a gang, The House Of Hurricane, which Yaya was a part of. Pablo wasn’t all that surprised to hear this; it explained the reason for the unique clothes and the police chase, which she seemed to have a lot of experience with. They talked about it on the way, and she told him that all the gang members were drag queens, artists! After a night of misfortune, Pablo couldn’t believe his luck.

The club wasn’t that far from where they were, so it didn’t take them long to get there. Yaya skated gracefully to the side of the building, avoiding the crowded main entrance, and simply nodded to the security guard who stood at the foot of the metal stairs. Despite being on skates, she climbed up faster than Pablo.

They entered through the door at the top and found themselves in a large room, full of chairs, poufs and sofas, as well as dressing tables. It was a sort of dressing room for several people, and in fact, there was as much movement up there as below, where the loud music and party noises came from. Yaya guided him through the hustle and bustle of drag queens and makeup artists until she found who she was looking for.

A drag queen not much older than them, but definitely more imposing, was frantically giving orders. Pablo correctly guessed that this must be the Hurricanes' warlord.

"Élan!" Yaya called, trying to make her voice rise above the commotion around her.

"What- Yaya! Where the fuck have you been?" The queen immediately turned towards the two and placed her hands on the hips, a reproving look on her face. "I already told you I don't like your little escapes, girl, I won't tolerate it-"

"Élan, stop that!" She embarrassedly hissed. "I don't need a babysitter, I can manage on my own! Besides, I have something more important." She quickly added when the leader opened her mouth to say something back.

It was only then that she noticed Pablo's presence there; she raised an eyebrow. "And who are you?"

"I-I'm Pablo, ma'am, and I want to be a part of your crew because I don't have somewhere to drop dead and honestly you're my only hope I don't know what to-" He began to yap nervously, but Élan stopped him.

"Shush! Look, we're in a busy night and one of my performers called in sick a couple of minutes ago. I trust Yaya's judgement, so if you can prove you have what it takes, go ahead!" Élan snapped her fingers, catching the attention of a makeup artist. "Please, fix her up, dear." He promptly nodded and moved closer to Pablo, who jumped a bit, putting his hands up.

"Pera aí, espera, hold up! Just like that? Do you just want me to go there and, I don't know, pull up a show??"

Yaya smiled and gently pushed him back towards the makeup artist. "That's exactly what she wants, hermana."

"As I said, we're busy. Get used to the rhythm here." Élan wrote something in a piece of paper at the same time they talked, demonstrating what she just said. Suddenly, she looked back at Pablo. "What you said your name was again?"

"Pablo?"

"No, nonono. That won't do. You can't walk there and be introduced as Pablo, girl! Pick a new one."

Actually, I can. He thought as he was practically dragged away from Élan and Yaya by the makeup artist. It would be unusual, of course, but nothing necessarily stopped him... except pride. If it was time to be reborn into a new life, he needed a new name.

A few minutes later — seriously, an absurdly short amount of minutes— she was practically a different person. Her makeup highlighted her most elegant features, her blue dress contrasted with her long orange braids, which had been put there by a hairdresser (who had appeared out of nowhere), like water and fire. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt alive.

She came back to where Élan frantically worked, now being helped by Yaya. When she looked at her, Yaya almost screamed.

"Holy shit, you look beautiful!"

"I gotta admit, you have the looks, girl. But do you have the groove?" Élan added, raising an eyebrow. "What's your name?" She repeated the question, in a tone that sounded much more like a test. This time, the answer came without hesitation.

"Hilda."

"Oh? Beautiful name, but don't you feel there's somethin' lacking there, dear?" Élan asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. Indeed, only Hilda didn't seem like a full stage name, and it wasn't.

"Hilda Huracán" Hilda Hurricane. Élan let out a loud laugh, and Hilda smiled at her.

"You got the nerves! Get your ass down on stage and surprise me, or you won't be gettin' that last name. Burn bright, Hilda Hurricane!"

————————w————————

oh, hello again! Don't mind me, I just have to drop these here-

Picrew used: https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/1469769

(also I clearly have no idea how clubs and etc work. Normally I'd research and double check everything but I just wanted to write without much compromise so... yeah sorry KASKASK)

[chansbabygirlsstuff]

Just a bet | Chapter 4

Paring:!badboyChanx!reader

Your POV

As I get out of the car, I can see the flashing colored lights that blind my sight as I wait for Chan to get out of the car I nervously stare at the people outside and inside the house, the sliding glass doors that let the visibility of everyone outside see what's going on inside.

"Are you ready?" he tells me next to some excited to get the party going "Yeah" I try to sound as excited as him.

We go inside the house, the atmosphere is hot, with bodies pressing along each other, dirty dancing on the floor, sloppy kisses in a corner, and alcohol by the door.

trying to squeeze through the crowd was a challenge as Chan took me to meet his friends, yeah, his friends, we'll see how that goes.

"what's up," Chan shouted trying to make a conversation with the boys over the loud music 

"This is y/n everyone!" he presented me to his group of friends 

everyone greeted you in a friendly way 

"hey I'm Felix" he made his way to your hand in a friendly way  "Hi Felix I'm Y/n"

"yeah we've heard of you," a boy with a cute smile said "Oh my name is I.N btw" 

you bowed a little to greet him. 

As everyone greeted you, you looked everywhere trying to get used to the ambiance around you

"Well, I'm going to get myself something to drink. do you want something?" he asked me shouting near my ear because of the loud music "Yeah sure," I said shyly as I felt him close to me he left me with his friends to enter the kitchen I felt the music get louder and people started jumping and dancing to the song, but I felt a grip my hip and sway me to the music and his hand guided lower to my leg centering in my lower body more and more so I turn around but encounter a random guy, the guy that was trying to dance with me!! my eyes widen and I slapped him in the face and left as I heard him scream "What the Fuck you bitch?" and run to the kitchen as I was passing by someone blew a cloud of smoke on my face, I coughed violently "What the fuck dude?!" I look back as he looks high as hell and smirks at me, I roll my eyes and look for Chan all over the big kitchen and see him leaning against a counter talking to a girl who is all over him touching his chest and almost putting her leg on top of him. 

I stare at him but his eyes find mine and he straightens his pose trying to get to me, but I leave and try to find the door, I find Changbin grinding with a girl and getting in my way, Felix sees me and stops me "what happened where are you going?" he tells me with a concerned face "nothing I just need some air" I said trying to pass me but he stopped me again. "ok you can come to me and tell me if anything happens" he smiles to me reassuringly. I swear he is too nice to be with these shitholes.

As I get out of the place I call my sister but I don't get enough signal as I walk further away from the house, I kick a rock out of frustration and try to call my sister again but nothing, I hate my fucking life, as I'm walking downhill to get to the city and call cab I feel chill as is very cold outside and I didn't bring warm clothes. 

I fucking hate that he lied to me, he said he was going to stay all night with me but no, he went with another chick to flirt or make out!, but why am I even bothered considering that I know his reputation from people who told me all around school? 

I seriously need help and stop reading those fake ass books that only get me to illusion myself to think he was being nice to me for a reason... or two... but that's not the case, I need to learn that what goes through my mind is not real, only the books can have that delusion written all over it.

I also feel scared as that weird man touched me like that, it was so inappropriate and I feel disgusting because of it, doesn't he know what respect is? I feel so uncomfortable for letting myself go into an ambiance that I know is not my safe zone, I feel guilty as I felt someone touch my body that way even if I didn't want to, While in my thoughts my tears escape my eyes as I'm sobbing, how stupid am I? 

I huff as the night gets colder and scarier as there is no source of light in this street, it gets creepier and alone but see a car turn and start following me behind, but the blinding lights of it don't let me see who it is, so I start walking faster, the creeps running through my spine and the hairs of my skin rise against my leather jacket. but the car reaches my steps and stands next to me as I see it roll down the window 

"Why did you go?" oh... it's Christopher  

"Nothing I'm fine, you can go back if you want" I do not look at him as I know my eyes must be red from crying and continue walking.

"no I promised you I would be with you" he continued the car at my pace

"well I didn't see anything of that happening" I walked faster as I didn't want to see him but his car followed next to me "I'm sorry okay?" he stopped the car and got out of it and ran to me 

He grabs my shoulders as he stands right in front of me "Let's just get inside the car and talk about it yeah?" he tries to persuade me to get in the car, and I do.

"why'd you leave" he says as I try to put my seatbelt on 

"well I didn't see you so I thought you left" I lie

"but you saw in the kitchen tho," he says the truth like an idiot 

"yeah but I saw you were busy so I thought you wouldn't spend time with me at the party," I said looking down feeling like a child who is about to get scolded 

"no love I promised you I would be there and yes I apologized because I left and talked to someone else, but my intention never was to leave you alone," he says looking at me but my head held low "But you did" I mumbled, he sighed "I'm sorry ok?" he expresses himself by putting his hand on my thigh and then on his chest "I promise to never do that again, that was very low of me" I looked at him while he looked at me, fucking butterflies why now, I feel the heat hit my ears and cheeks, I need to get a hold of myself

"but even when you saw you should've talked to me," he said starting the car once dating and driving, "yeah but either way I was uncomfortable," I said as I checked if my makeup was ruined on the car's mirror.

"why love did someone do something to you?" he said caringly

"Yeah, a guy... you know" I stopped as I felt my eyes get watery "he touched me inappropriately"

"He touched you" he exclaimed as he was surprised by my answer

"Yeah I was very scared," I said cleaning my tears   

"Did you do something about it? you should have called me or one of the guys" he raises his voice in anger 

"I'm sorry" I apologize and he changes his mood

"I'm not mad at you love, I'm mad at that bastard, he can't be treating ladies like you like that," he said looking at the road a bit mad "And don't cry ok? You're at least safe, you with me now" he smiles and caresses my shoulder, fucking butterflies again, am I that touched deprived or is he just too touchy to have talked a week ago?

"how about  if we go do something you like?" he says and I nod 

"what do you like to do at night" his sweet and caring smile looks at me as I look out the window of shyness

"I like to walk at night and eat some ice cream, I like quiet places" I express my liking to him as he pays attention to me 

"ok so let us go to the park and eat some ice cream," he says enthusiastically 

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

Hi my lovelies

Here is the 4th chapter sorry for being late I promise to post another one soon!

taglist: @stayceebs97 @foivestarrsketchez @salfetkablog

the tag list is open lovelies so plz comment if you want to be added

[sephirthoughts]

so we need to talk about this...thing

not caelus, i mean this…whatever this thing is.

apparently it's associated with the trailblazer's new ability. whatever it is, it's godawful, and i am very unhappy to see it in star rail. it looks like it was made by an AI specifically to be the most lazy, cloying, repulsive, corpo-cutesy object in existence. it's assembly line design trash and worse, it seems to be the irrelevance bell tolling for star rail. it happened a lot faster than it did for genshin, too.

this sucks especially bad considering all the really GOOD character designs and interesting story stuff and environments we've seen that will be coming with the amphoreus update. but it looks like if we want to enjoy any of that, we're going to be stuck with this obnoxious sentient carbuncle stuck to us.

i was SO RELIEVED to be rid of paimon and this is how you do me hoyoverse? also who is the target audience here? do you seriously think all your players are six-year-old girls?

what it looks like to me is the first warning signs that star rail is following genshin down the garbage chute into incomprehensible design trash. don't believe me? this is the kind of garbage genshin has been subjecting players to for the past 18 months.

most people are probably not bothered by this stuff and will just tolerate or ignore it, which is fine. i am simply venting some frustration i have and have heard often from other players. if you actually like this kind of rancid aesthetic, there is no help for you, comrade, and i am not talking to you in this post (also what are you doing on tumblr you have to be at least 13 to have an account).

but for myself and most other players i know, the downhill slide into this cloying, overwrought, over-designed garbage is literally the reason most of us stopped playing genshin and moved to star rail. that and a lot of fontaine was intensely boring, and natlan is a complete top-to-bottom shitpile.

this is coming from a place of caring deeply for genshin and being burned pretty badly, and starting to see the same thing happen to star rail. it's just...extremely disappointing. especially when there was SO MUCH i loved about both games, and SO MUCH that was good and truly fun and wonderful to experience.

i know it's too late to turn the design ship back since this is the way it's headed now, and no amount of bitching by the players who care will help, so i'll just say i will always appreciate and miss the sense of wonder and joy these games brought me, for the time that they did.

also seriously screw you hoyoverse THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS

[mattybraps10]

I Can See You | Brendan Brisson x Hughes!OC

Summary: Phoebe accidentally grabs Brendan's shirt for the lake and the day goes downhill from there. Plus, another special guest is coming to join them over the summer.

Word Count: 1072

By: M

Parts: part one | part three | part four | part five

PART TWO:

“Excuse me?” Jack cut in, offended.

“Yeah- Wait. She’s done WHAT before?!” Luke added.

“Guys relax, it was one time… If I recall correctly someone may have spilled their drink on me” She said, nudging Brendan.

“More than once…” Brendan cut in, fucking with Phoebe.

“More than once… huh Pheebs? Something you wanna share with the class?” Quinn said, laughing. 

When Quinn laughed, Phoebe relaxed. None of the boys actually thought anything had happened between Phoebe and Brendan, but it was always enjoyable to poke fun at their little sister. 

“Sure, Lil’ Hughes has been around my closet plenty of times.” Brendan said, laughing and climbing into the boat.

“Yeah. Okay Briss.” Jack said, patting Brendan on the back, and sitting next to him.

Quinn sat behind the wheel as she joined the boys on the boat. Luke pushed us from the dock. Phoebe sat at the front, hoping to get a bit of sun on our drive. Brendan sat with Luke and Jack at the back of the boat, laughing and grabbing snacks from the bag he’d brought. Phoebe put on her sunglasses, closing her eyes and laying against the seat as the boys bickered behind her. 

“Bro- She’s totally asleep.” Luke called to the back of the boat, standing over Phoebe.

“How are we supposed to get her back to the house? I mean I’m not carrying her, not after last time.” Jack said, jumping off the boat. The last time Jack had tried to carry sleeping Phoebe, she’d woken up causing them both to fall into the grass. 

“Y’all are weak. I’ll just do it.” Brendan said, trying to avoid another fight.

He scooped the sleeping girl into his arms, wrapping her limbs around him as he stepped onto the dock. Still asleep, she nestled her face into his neck.

“Oh my god. She’s gonna be pissed when she sees that!” Quinn said after noticing that Jack had taken a picture of the loving scene. “Lake highlights!” Luke called, recalling the time Phoebe had posted a photo of him asleep on the boat.

“Hey Huggy, send that to me, yeah?” Brendan asked, smiling.

“What? Wanna study it or something?” Quinn said, laughing.

“This is definitely the closest he’s ever been to a woman. Probably wants to remember it forever.” Jack added as the boys, save Brendan, burst into laughter.

“Woman? I hadn’t noticed.” Brendan said, walking back to the house.

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” Luke called after him.

“Yeah, she’ll kick your ass. I mean there’s a reason we keep our teasing light.” Quinn laughed as he walked through the sliding door.

Brendan carefully placed Phoebe into his bed, opting against invading her space by going through her room. The girl curled into the blankets, draping an arm around the standing boy. Had she been awake, Brendan would’ve made a joking comment about their past, but her peaceful face reminded him of what he’d lost.

“Okay Hughesy, I’m gonna go back to the kitchen with your brothers. Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled, mostly to himself and removing her arm from around him.

“Yo, Briss! Took you long enough.” Jack laughed as Brendan entered the room. 

“What can I say? The ladies love me.” He replied, a smirk covering his face.

“Still my sister dude, ew.” Jack said, disgust evident on his face.

“Y'all, is it okay if I invite Matty to visit for a few days?” Luke said, walking into the kitchen and easing the tension.

“Hell yeah! I’ve missed him.” Brendan replied, grinning.

“Sure man, do we have the space? I mean mom and dad’s room is off limits so we only have four rooms…” Jack said, trying to figure out the sleeping arrangements.

“I mean someone’s gonna have to share, why don’t you just move into my room Rowdy?” Luke asked, ratifying the situation.

“Oh hell no. You snore,” Jack replied, “No one wants to deal with that.” 

“Sorry, bro.” Brendan replied when Luke gave him an expectant look.

“Hey Quinner!” Luke called across the room as his older brother walked into the kitchen, hair wet from a shower.

“What’s up Moosey?” Quinn said, grabbing a gato from the fridge.

“Will you room with Jack so Matty can visit for a bit?” Luke asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Absolutely not. I’m the oldest, I want my room to myself. Sorry bro.” Quinn uncapped his drink and took a sip.

“Briss?” Luke asked, turning to his last resort.

“Look, I mean I don’t mind sharing a room.” He shrugged, turning to Jack.

“Hold on. My room has one bed… Not happening buddy.” 

“Well that settles it then, no Matty.” Luke sighed, defeated.

“Hold on guys.” Phoebe said, walking into the kitchen, still clad in her bathing suit.

“The princess awakens from her slumber.” Brendan said, holding his arm out as dramatically as possible.

“What if your friend just sleeps on the couch in my room? I mean I have the biggest room.” She said, shrugging as if it was that simple.

“No way in hell I’m leaving you in a room with him,” Brendan cut in, “guys?”

“I mean she’s right, it’s not like they’re sharing the bed or anything.” Luke replied.

“Yeah, loosen up Briss it’ll be fine.” Jack smiled, patting him on the back.

“Phoebe doesn’t even know Matty, I should take the couch. He can have my room.” Brendan said, not willing to admit defeat.

“Brendan. I can handle myself.” Phoebe said, shocked that he’d insinuate anything different.

“I know you can, I’m just looking out for you. That’s what friends are for.” She visibly recoiled as the last sentence left his mouth.

“Whatever.” She replied, coldly, walking into her room.

“What just happened?” Luke asked as she closed the door.

“I don’t know.” Jack and Quinn said at the same time.

“I think I need a beer.” Brendan said, as the boys looked at him expectantly.

“Okay. Be like that then.” Luke said, handing him a beer from the fridge.

“What do you expect me to say? I’m just as confused as you guys.” Brendan said, taking a swig and leaning against the counter.

“Okay. Sure. Just go pack up your stuff, Matty’s coming tomorrow. We gotta wash your sheets tonight.” Luke said, a clear dismissal.

“Gotcha man. Give me twenty and I’ll have the sheets in the wash.” Brendan said, saluting to the brothers.

[ave09]

Today (July 1st) is Indiana Jones’ birthday!!! Maybe Reader and Short Round help Indy celebrate his birthday!

hi! i would’ve loved to post this on his actual birthday, but i’m visiting family and their service was horrible so i was off the grid for a good twenty-four hours

i’m also currently working on another request for indy, but it requires some research, but here’s a lil hint, it revolves around the fountain of youth 👀

indiana jones x wife!reader

“shh!”

“don’t shh me!”

“you’re being a lot right now, shorty, i just need a moment of quiet.” there was silence for .5 seconds, and then he started up again.

“what time will indy be home?” 

“soon,” you replied, sliding on your oven mitts as you moved to the oven where a chocolate cake was currently baking. “soon? the cake won’t be done by then!” 

that was very true. it still needed to cool, and be frosted, cooled again, and decorated. this should’ve been done last night. indiana was to return from one of his adventures, and the date he returned just happened to be on his birthday. you and shorty had decided to make it a big one, so you’d planned to bake a cake and decorate the house with festive colors in honor of his special day.

but things quickly went downhill.

you’d been called in for a conference with a student at college, which had occupied way too much time. and upon coming home, you found out that your adopted son, short round, had taken it upon himself, to start baking the cake.

one could only imagine how that happened. you had to run to the store, pick up more ingredients, and now here you were. indiana could be home any minute, and nothing was going the way it should.

you knew that he would love it either way, but you wanted it to be perfect. 

“just-“

“hello!” the sound of that familiar voice and the slamming door caught your attention. “indy!” short round exclaimed. 

well shit.

the young boy hopped off of the counter, rushing toward the entrance of the kitchen where indiana jones stood, his arms outstretched, a smile on his face, “hey shorty!” he exclaimed, picking the boy up, hugging him to his chest, “how ya doing? have you been taking care of my girl?” 

“yes, indy! just like you told me too!” the man let out a hearty laugh before setting the boy down, “now if you excuse me, i gotta see my wife.” 

the man then sauntered over to his wife, pulling her close, catching her in a surprise kiss as he smashed his lips against hers. there was passion, yearning, you’d have gone with him were you able to find a sitter for shorty. 

and oh, how you missed him.

you pulled away before the kiss escalated, glancing up at him. you loved indiana for who he was, but you were an absolute sucker for his post-adventure look. his hair was always mused under his hat, and his stubble was prominent, an almost beard, he was always in a happy mood upon returning home and it made her love him more.

“hi sweetheart.” he greeted. “hi honey, happy birthday.” you replied, pecking his lips softly. indiana smiled, his eyes sliding to the cake pan on the counter behind you.

he arched his brows, “that for me?” 

you nodded slowly, “it was supposed to be finished but i ran out of time.”

“it’s the thought that counts, darling. plus, i already have everything i could ever need: you and the kid.”

“i have a name!” shorty interjected as indiana pulled you into another kiss.

the three of you had spent the rest of the day decorating the cake, making homemade pizzas, and watching old movies. it was a grand time and you could tell indiana was having a blast watching shorty criticize the television for the stupid actions of the characters. 

at the end of the night, once shorty had been put to bed, you and your husband climbed into bed. “so, how was your special day?” you asked softly as indiana hovered over you, propping himself up with his elbows. “it was beyond amazing darling.” he replied, kissing you passionately. you smiled into the kiss, deepening it.

“i love you,” you whispered between kisses, and he gave you that smartass response you knew and loved:

“i know.”