#long term truck hire

[truckhire]

Efficiency Unleashed: Benefits of Long Term Truck Hire for Industrial Transportation Needs

In most industrial organisations, long term truck hire is essential for the safe transportation of heavy equipment and freight. The best thing about semi-cranes is their capacity to raise objects and hold them on the rear of the trailer. Additionally, a lot of firms understand that renting these vehicles is more cost-effective than buying them because of their high cost of acquisition compared to renting in the long run.

Services of Top Transport Solution Companies at a Glance

Franna Crane: Since they are the best option for transferring large things in industrial and construction situations, short term truck hire in Melbourne is a popular choice. Instead of spending so much money on such expensive cranes, businesses and companies frequently hire these cranes on an as-needed basis, allowing them to use their money for other purposes. The best rental companies offer outstanding maintenance services, so you can hire the best Franna cranes from them.

Crane Mounted Rigids: Steel, rods, and other commodities are frequently delivered by these trucks in industrial complexes. Depending on their demands, businesses may rent these rigid vehicles when required.

Forklifts: Since they are the best lifting and moving option in large warehouses where many things are housed on pallets, forklifts are a must for warehouses. Acquiring a forklift is not a financially prudent decision since storage becomes an issue when it is not in use. Instead of purchasing a forklift, one can leave the bother of maintenance to the rental company.

Container Transport: Since containers are the foundation of the logistics industry, top transport solution providers also offer this service. Prominent businesses ensure that the vehicles they employ for product delivery are of the best quality to avoid mechanical failures. Each company ships a different collection of goods in containers, thus this service requires a highly customised product based on customer requirements.

Trailers: Standard flat and extended trays are the two basic types of trailers, and one can select one according to their requirements. While trailers are often designed to tow heavy cargo, they may also be used for the transportation of specialist machinery and other industrial equipment.

Today, most businesses depend on transportation solutions since most goods need to be moved from one place to another. To obtain an estimate for the necessary transport service, get in touch with the leading business.  

Source

[tranto]

Long Term Rental For Trucks

Are you looking to grow your fleet? Are you tired of not being able to place bids, because a job is too big and you lack proper machinery, trucks, or equipment? Not only do we provide machinery, trucks, and equipment for Dry Hire, but we also can help with financing your next vehicle.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

thoughts on car mechanic sevika?

CAR MECHANIC SEVIKA HEADCANNONS. SUGGESTIVE CONTENT BELOW

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who went to school to become a mechanic and ended up being hired rather quickly by a garage two miles away from her apartment, a well known place named "Silco's Auto Haven." Yeah, she should've known her boss would be a prick. She doesn't get paid enough to put up with his bitching, you'd think she was a masochist the way she ended up working there for well over five years.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who sports a wife pleaser and the hottest cargo pants known to man. Tight around her thighs, hugging the curve of her ass, but the entire outfit, complete with a pair of dirty boots, gives off a more butch look. Tattoos litter her arms, and a piercing subtly fills the area just below her delicious bottom lip.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who is used to a rather solitary life besides babysitting her bosses' foster children Jinx and Isha. She'd say to anyone who asked that they were annoying brats, but she was secretly soft around children and was good with kids when she wanted to be. Those two were her favorite.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who swears she doesn't check out customers, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't brush off the discounts she offered you as "simple kindness." She'll approach your car, face spotted with tiny bits of oil that should be downright illegal to look so attractive adorning, and acts as if she's not soaked in her boxers just glancing your way.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who is nothing but shy; however, when it comes to a certain you who needs oil changes, something she handles quite frequently, she'll forget her train of thought.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who was on her way home after the usual long day at Silco's driving home in her truck, an old but reliable possession of hers in which she did work on herself, soon noticed a familiar car on the side of the road. Coming to a stop, her hand shifted gears into park and approached the front seat window, to which she was greeted with the sight of you, the most pitiful look on your face as you explained that your car, usually reliable and your most prized possession, broke down. Sevika was gruff, maybe came off as indifferent to many. Still, she was a good woman.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who luckily had the resources in the bed of her truck to get your car started back up. You thanked her so graciously, to which she warmed up to you. She gave you her number in case you needed any further assistance.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who has a bad case of what you'd call "crushing," a term she refuses to use and would scoff at. She can't help it; you text her so sweetly, even when you don't need the oil changed on your car or when your engine is running smoothly.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who eventually asks you out, and spoils you with a soft heart others may not get to see with her. Buys you roses, lets you sleep in her boxers, and even allows you to stop by the garage to bring her a home-cooked lunch.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who didn't mean to make out with you for the first time in the garage, but it just kind of happened. You stopped by for a legitimate reason this time, needing her to pop under the hood and make sure everything was all good and dandy with your car. She had some work to do, and she so sarcastically suggested that money wouldn't suffice as a proper payment. You didn't catch the joke.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who had you in the employee bathroom sitting with your legs parted on the sink as she kissed you desperately, lips slotted together to make delicious little smacking noises. Her tongue was all over yours, her lips suckling on your bottom one, making you whine into her mouth. She wasn't going to take things further in this filthy place, but she was surely tempted to. She swore that you tasted like candy, or maybe your lip gloss did. Either way, she didn't give a fuck. You were so pretty and tasty, practically edible and she couldn't get enough of you, of the way you tugged on her ponytail as she left hickies all over your neck that you'd be embarrassed of later.

ʚɞ Car mechanic Sevika who didn't charge you that day for the car check-up, instead putting it on her own tab. If Silco had anything to say about it, she'd happily apply to the auto shop a few miles away.

[enviedear]

jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

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[lillaydee]

Delusions

Joel Miller (AU) / Reader (Narration by Unhinged, Delusional OFC)

When jealousy makes one see you through distorted, circus-mirrored glasses.

Word Count: 13,293

WARNINGS:Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Joel is in love, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Sexual Assault (On a Male Character), Drink Spiking, Delusions, Completely Unhinged (But Dumb as a Doornail) OFC, Descriptions of Bloody Attack, Mental Illness.

***

Nell had never understood the appeal of you. What did you have that she didn’t? She was so much prettier than you. Everyone said so. You didn’t even wear make up for God’s sake, and you bought clothes at discount shops. And yet people seemed drawn to you.

She loved you. She really did. You were her best friend. You had been since infancy. Your mom worked for her family. She was their housemaid. Your mom and her mom, Susan, got pregnant at around the same time. Your father was a long-haul truck driver, so he wasn’t home as often, and when she was born, her family hired a live-in nanny to help with her. Your mom had been looking for day care options for you when Susan suggested she just bring you over and the nanny could look after you both when she worked.

Her family loved you. They doted on you. When the time came for you to go to school, they offered to pay for you to get private education, same as her, so that way, the two of you wouldn’t be separated. You mom politely declined; your parents didn’t want you to be spoiled like that. They wanted you to grow up knowing where you came from, to understand the value of hard work and money. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that your family had no money. So, the two of you were separated during the school terms but spent a lot of time together during the holidays, when your mom would bring you to work with her.

You two remained close. Best friends. But Nell couldn’t help but notice that you had more friends than she did. Even her own friends from her private school ended up being more your friends than hers, and yet, your friends didn’t seem to like her so much. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that they were simple, mind-numbingly boring people. You kept getting invites to birthday parties and sleepovers, when she could only get parties and sleepovers at her place, and that too, normally ended up with her friends crowding around you, spending time and talking with you than her. They all invited you to their parties and sleepovers, but not her. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that their houses were not as well equipped as hers. She was just pointing out facts.

When the two of you turned sixteen, her parents got her a Mercedes. They wanted to get you one too, but you declined. Instead, you used your own money to buy a second-hand Mini Cooper that made so many creaks and groans when driven, you called it Creaky. Her parents reimbursed you for the money as a present instead.

Despite her having the nice car, you still had more friends cramped in your Creaky than she ever had in her Mercedes. Creaky was always full. She saw you and your friends (most of which were her friends before they were yours) laughing as it puttered along, filled tighter than a sardine can, driving down the street, off somewhere where she wasn’t invited, again. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that she had so many demands for her passengers. Did you know how much it cost to detail a car?

You made time for her, though. She would tell you her problems, and you would console her, gave her advice, and made her feel better. She really loved you. She didn’t know what she would do without you in her life.

She made it to an Ivy League university, her parents being large donors to a couple of them. You received a partial scholarship to the same university, and her parents offered to pay for the rest of your college fees, but you declined. You didn’t even want to go. You opted for the local community college, wanting to live at home and be close to your parents.

Nell, being the beautiful young woman that she was, had no problems getting the young men to fall for her. But for some reason, the young men never stuck. They would sleep with her, and more often than not, ghosted her. The few that stuck around seemed more interested in having her take them to fancy restaurants and buy them things than commit to her. And these guys didn’t like that she was sleeping with more than one guy, surprisingly. They often left her. Not her fault that she was so beautiful she needed to have more than one guy. She was just being fair.

You, on the other hand, were more reserved, and preferred to stay home and not party. You had one boyfriend throughout high school. But when his family moved across the country, the two of you broke up. And by the time you were in college, you were so content with focusing on your studies you didn’t get involved with anyone.

Every time Nell introduced you to one of her guys, they would end up asking about you often. Even when she was out clubbing, the guys she flirted with would recognize her from being your friend, and asked if they could get your number. Nell didn’t understand. You wouldn’t even sleep with anyone unless you were in love with them. And you didn’t have money. Your dates consisted of movies and tacos at the truck. And yet, all these guys were clamouring for you. You didn’t even wear sexy clothes. You stuck to your ponytail and jeans and shirts. You didn’t even get your boobs done. You didn’t even get lip injections. She couldn’t fathom it. What was your appeal?

But it’s okay. She was the one who was out there. She was the one who were getting dates every night. Not you. So, that’s something, right? But even with all the men she had slept with, there was one man she wanted so badly, but could never seem to get.

Joel Miller.

He was hot. So hot. Him and his brother Tommy did construction. They worked for their father. Nell had heard rumours about Joel. She could see it, in fact. The guys he used to share a locker room with were talking about it openly. They called him Hung Miller to distinguish between him and his brother. His ex-girlfriend was too shy and ladylike to talk about it. Nell set her eyes on him, going after him every chance she got. But he never gave her the time of day. She sampled Tommy once at the bar. He was big. But apparently Joel was bigger. And she wanted to sample Joel - badly. But he didn’t talk much. Never went to the bars as much as Tommy did. And when she tried to talk him up, he always made excuses and left.

Nell gave up in the end. She went to college and found herself a Law major who had money just like her, Tony. He got her. They have the same background. So, she decided, for now, she would stick with Tony. They went steady, and for once in her life, Nell found herself falling in love, and didn’t cheat on him at all.

When she told you about Tony, you were really excited for her. Finally, you had said, someone tamed Wild Nellie. She had giggled with you over FaceTime about it. She couldn’t wait for you to meet him, she said. How she wished you would find someone too. She wanted you to be happy. Like her. You replied with your standard you’re too busy with school to date. Nell rolled her eyes – you could graduate with your eyes closed. You were so smart.

When she finally introduced Tony to you, the two of you got along swimmingly. Nell was so happy. She was so in love with him. Tony would join the two of your when you FaceTime each other and made joking remarks at you. You only met him once, but you could tell he was a good guy. You were happy your friend found someone like him. Maybe her wild days are over.  

Susan got sick that year. She was in a car accident and suffered a stroke during recovery. Nell was too busy in college to go home and help, so you did. You came by every day to help Susan out, even though her husband had hired help to help her with her recovery. You read to her, did crochets with her to help her hands get their dexterity back, swam with her, cooked with her, and called Nell every day so she could say hi to Susan. It wasn’t Nell’s fault you always called when she was busy doing college things.

When Tony found out about her mother, he wanted to visit, but she didn’t want to. She was having fun where she was. There were people around to take care of her mother. She wasn’t needed. And Tony made a remark where she should be more like you. Caring, kind, considerate, empathetic. That stung her. It was clear to her that even he thought you were better than her. Just like her parents, her friends, her exes. But she loved him, so she let it go.   

When she went home for the summer, she discovered that her parents had hired someone to make their house more wheelchair friendly. Not just anyone, in fact, but the Miller brothers. She took this opportunity to try her luck with Joel again, just to feed her ego. But again, he rebuffed her. Seemingly uninterested in her at all. Which couldn’t be possible. Had he seen her? She was hot. How could he not want her? She divided her time spent during that summer trying to get his attention and watching you take care of her mother. She would wear the skimpiest bikini and lounged around the house in them, and Joel didn’t even look her way. She rubbed herself on him all the time, accidentally, of course, and he just moved out of the way. At one point, she even accidentally on purpose dropped her towel on him while he was working on the bathroom ramp, revealing her perfect, naked body. Still, he didn’t bat an eye at her.

And then one day she saw him looking at you longingly. You were crocheting with her mother, telling her a story, laughing merrily. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. She started noticing Joel would find reasons to work within your vicinity and tried to talk to you. Whenever you talked to him back, Joel would stand all awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly, looking flustered that you would give him the time of day.

And finally, on the last day of construction, just before he left, she saw him kiss you.

Nell slept with Tommy that night, just to get her frustrations out of the way. She told him how she couldn’t understand why Joel would choose you, and not her. Tommy told her that Joel had always had a thing for you. Since high school. But you and him both were in relationships, so he didn’t do anything about it.

Again, Nell didn’t get it. Why you?

That night, the night before she went back to college, she and Tommy fell asleep in her bed. Tony FaceTimed her, and she absentmindedly picked up. He saw that she was naked in bed with someone. And broke up with her on the spot.

Nell was broken hearted. She flew back the next day and begged him to give her another chance. He ignored her. She blamed you kissing Joel for her indiscretion. She obviously wouldn’t have slept with Tommy if she hadn’t seen you do that.

She went through the rest of her college years sleeping around and drinking her troubles away, especially since you told her you and Joel were officially dating now. You were so happy with him. She drank and slept around some more to cope with that. She failed her final year, having partied too much. It’s your fault, of course. Why couldn’t you just keep your happiness with the one man she wanted to yourself? Just before she left, she said goodbye to Tony. He had moved on, another Law major, who looked just about as boring as you were. He traded down, she thought. He politely said goodbye to her and told her he’s glad her mother was doing better. She wondered how he knew – and he told her he had called you from time to time to ask about Susan.

Oh.

When Nell got back in town, she received such a scolding and lecture from her father she couldn’t think straight. She drove to your house to vent, only to be told that you had moved out. She went to the new address and Joel answered the door.

You had moved in with Joel Miller, just last week. And the night before, he had asked you to marry him, and you had said yes, you told her excitedly.

You were sharing good news with her. But all Nell saw was red.

Why you? Why not her? What was so special about you that everyone, her own parents included, preferred you? Why did you get to be happy? Why not her?

Nell hugged you upon hearing the news. She looked at Joel, faux happiness on her face. He looked good. Mouth wateringly good.  

She decided right there and then.

You had taken everyone from her.

She was going to take Joel Miller from you if it was the last thing she did.

***

Nell could see the challenges that she was going to face. Joel didn’t want to be alone with her at all. He went into the kitchen with you when you went to get drinks. When you went to the next room to answer a phone call, he went with you. You went to the bathroom; he went outside for a smoke – he must have some hideaway because Nell tried to follow but he was nowhere to be seen. When you decided to cook lunch, he helped you, never leaving your side. And you didn’t do the classic ‘no you should stay with Nell, entertain her’ thing her mother did to her father either.

God, what a clingy couple.

It didn’t help that Joel couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you either. A hand on your back, on your thigh, around your shoulder, and you were equally bad – letting him do that with her right there. How shameless.

She needed a game plan.

So, she tried the simplest thing first. Could she perhaps stay the night? She didn’t want to go home and face her father just yet. You looked at Joel, and he shrugged, telling you it was up to you. She’s your friend.

Oh, so now he’s not even friends with her?

After dinner, you put on a movie. You gave her your sleep sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in. You cuddled up to Joel to watch the movie, Nell on his other side. She surreptitiously made her way closer to him as the movie progressed, but just as she was about to get near enough to feel the beginnings of his body heat, he got up and went to the kitchen for a drink. When he came back, he sat on your other side, putting her plan to accidentally fall asleep on him to bed.

When you started to fall asleep, Joel lifted you up and brought you into the bedroom. Nell’s heart jumped. Finally. A chance to be alone. But Joel placed you on the bed, came back and shut the door. Not even a good night her way.

She woke up early the next morning to sounds of soft moans and grunts from your bedroom. She could hear him shushing you, his low sexy voice talking to you, but she couldn’t hear what he said exactly. Who would have sex when a guest was in the next room? She knew you. You didn’t even like sex that much. You’d only slept with what, three men? You were a prude. Inexperienced. Unlike her. You would never have sex with her in the next room. It was all so out of character for you. And you could never satisfy him in bed the way she could. There was no way Joel would want you like this, though. Nell didn’t get it. Why would he find you desirable and not her? I mean, you never got your hair done. You used the 2-in-1 shampoo for God’s sake. And your nails? You clipped them down, never even got a manicure. You didn’t even bother to look good. And here she was, someone who had spent so much money to look the way she did, and he wanted you?

Seriously. It boggles the mind. The good news was, Joel Miller was just a man. So, with your lack of interest in beauty care, surely he will see what he was missing if it was shoved in his face enough, right?

So when you came out looking freshly fucked, wearing only a shirt she assumed was his, she made sure to pretend she was still asleep. When she joined you in the kitchen, she was only wearing the shirt you loaned her. Let him have a peek at what he would be enjoying soon. But it seemed like Joel didn’t even notice her. He acted as if you were the only other person in the room. She needed more time, and more tactics. Show him what she could offer that you couldn’t.

She announced that she wanted to celebrate the happy couple. Dinner tonight? At the most expensive restaurant in town. Please? You told her that you and Joel were not that kind of people. The two of you prefer to keep it simple. Nell waved her hands off at you, telling you that a special celebration was in order. Come on, please?

You finally said okay.

So, at dinner that night, Nell flexed her flirting skills with Joel. She ordered the most expensive everything. Champagne, caviar, courses and courses of the most decadent and pricey stuff she knew you could never afford to lavish him with. She bought the two of you presents, a diamond bracelet for you, and a Rolex for Joel. She needed him to understand how serious she was about wanting him, how she could give you more than you could ever imagine. He didn’t really react to the watch the way she expected him to. Just looked at it, closed the box and pushed it towards you. And you, as always, declined the gifts, saying that she didn’t have to do this. Nell insisted, saying that you would never buy stuff like this anyway, so she would do it for you. She wore the two of you down and received a quiet thank you with a polite smile from both of you.

She had planted her first seed. You could never afford to buy him gifts like this.

When the meals arrived, Joel, again, was not reacting the way she wanted him to. He only talked to you in low voices, as if Nell wasn’t even there, unenthusiastically eating the food without any comments. And you, as usual, just looked uncomfortable with all the food and the many cutleries on the table. The two of you didn’t even finish your caviar. She tried to get the two of you to talk about the wedding, but you said it was too early to plan. And a lightbulb turned on in her head.

She will pay for the wedding. She will plan it! It’s genius. She will have access to Joel, and you will be none the wiser!

She held your hand, eyes brimming with fake happy tears, telling you that you deserve everything good, that you had always made her happy, and to let her do this for you. But again, you said no. It’s alright Nellie, we will take care of everything ourselves. No need to go out of your way for us. You patted her hand with yours, and that was when Nell saw your engagement ring for the first time. She had assumed he didn’t get you one, but apparently he did.

It was nothing to shout about. The diamond was small. It didn’t even look new. You told her that it was his mother’s ring. Nell cringed internally at that – what a cheapskate. He didn’t even buy her a new ring?

Something swelled in her heart. A realisation.

He didn’t really love you. He would spend money on a new one if he did. And he didn’t bother. Instead, he slapped on his late mother’s ratty, cheap old ring on you.

So, she made a comment on what a great idea that was, saved so much money, huh Joel? You smiled politely and told her that it was the thought that counted, his mother’s ring held a high value in your eyes, that he thought you special enough to give you something that was hers – the woman who gave birth to him, someone he loved very much.

Sure, Nell thought, whatever.

But she was convinced she had planted the second seed. He wasn’t willing to spend money on you. Surely that would plant some doubt in your head.

When leaving the restaurant, Nell asked if the two of you would like to go to a bar, but the two of you declined. She asked where you were going, maybe she could join you? But Joel quickly answered that the two of you wanted to spend the rest of the night alone. Again, very politely. She was starting to lose her patience. What’s with all the politeness? And couldn’t he just let go of your hand? Shove the fact that he wanted you and not her in her face, Joel Miller. Stupid man. Blind man.

But such a sexy man. A sexy man she wanted to try. She needed to. He was the only man who had ever rejected her. And he was brought down to his knees by you. You. Of all people. The one who only had nice things out of her parents generosity, the one who wore her handouts. The one who wore a brandless pump and home-sewn summer dress to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

She needed him to see that he was settling with you. She could tell that deep down, he was not that into you. How could he be? When he wouldn’t even spend money on you when it came to what was supposed to be the symbol of his love. He could have so much more with her. Even looking at him now, in his generic brand dress shirt and jeans, she could tell that you never bothered to shower him with gifts. What respectable woman would let a man as fine as Joel Miller wear generic brands? God, you were so stupid.

As she was driving out, she saw you pressed up against the door of his truck, him kissing you passionately. She wanted him to do that with her. God! It’s so infuriating! She drove around aimlessly for a while, before deciding to head to a club. And she saw the two of you again. At your favourite Taco Truck, shoving tacos into your mouths and laughing with each other, Joel looking so happy and content she wanted to scream. She spent thousands for dinner, and didn’t get so much as a smile from him – both of you looking so uncomfortable and out of place in the restaurant, and now you’re eating tacos and elated about it? Ugh!

Maybe he’s too much of a low life for her. Who preferred cheap dollar tacos to caviar? Maybe she should give up this quest to fuck Hung Miller and let the low-class man marry the low-class you.

But no. You had always taken everything that was hers. She was going to take what was yours. For once. See if you liked it. You should know what it felt like to have people that was yours taken away from you, and how much it hurt to see them happier with her than with you.

The next day, Nell went shopping. She spared no expense, buying Joel all the branded clothes she could get her hands on. She stopped by your place and saw that Joel’s truck was there, but your Creaky was not. She almost jumped with joy when she went knocking. Joel opened the door, but the smile on his face turned off when he realized it was her. He straight up told her that you were not home. Nell tried very hard not to take his obvious lack of enthusiasm to see her to heart, but she was starting to feel like he didn’t want to see her, which was impossible, of course.

She told him that she had presents for him. Without opening the door further he asked her why? She tried to push the door open, but he wouldn’t let her. So, she pressed up to the door as close as she could and told him a fine man such as himself deserve better than generic brands. He was engaged to her best friend now, and this was her way to try and be his friend. He told her there was absolutely no reason she should be his friend too. They didn’t even know each other. She told him they could get to know each other, her eyes basically fucking him up and down. He was about to tell her to come back when you were home when Creaky’s classic sounds came around the corner.

Nell took a disappointed step back, and Joel rushed out to greet you. She saw him talk to you quietly for a bit, and you asked her what she was doing there. She showed you the bags she had with her, presents for Joel, she said. You smiled politely and told her she didn’t have to do all that. She waved it off and said anything for her best friend’s new fiancé. When she drove off, she noticed that the bags were still outside, you and Joel discussing something, you obviously not looking too happy. She smiled smugly to herself. She would’ve gone mental if she had found a beautiful, rich woman such as herself at her door with such a handsome fiancé, and had gone shopping for him, at that.

She had planted another seed. You must have been jealous to find her there with all those expensive clothes for him. All she had to do was keep planting them. And her efforts will grow and be fruitful.

That night, she went clubbing again. Her parents had been at her ears all day about getting a job. She wasn’t interested. It wasn’t like she needed the money. So, she danced the night away, looking for someone to be a distraction for the night, until she could get her hands on Joel Miller. But no one was biting. In fact, men avoided her like the plague. She couldn’t understand it. And then, from afar, she saw Tommy. Perfect.

As she got nearer, she noticed something. He was wearing the clothes she had bought for Joel. And his Rolex. The very same one she had bought for Joel. She commented on them, and he just told her that Joel gave them to him, Joel was never comfortable with expensive stuff.

What? Of all the nerve!

He pulled her outside. She tried to kiss him, but he kept her at arm’s length. Told her that she had to stop. Stop what? Tommy knew she was after Joel. Not only had she openly complained about Joel choosing you instead of her to him at the beginning, but she had also openly tried to get his attention from the start. Everyone knew she was after Joel. Everyone could see, even you, Tommy said. She made it so obvious when they were working at her house. And now, she was making it even more so damn obvious. She had done to Joel what she had always done to the men she was after, which was throw money at them. Joel will never fall for that. He had never been impressed by money. He told her that Joel was in love with you. He wanted you, and not her. Please leave him alone. He’s marrying you. He’s happy.

He hasn’t married you yet, she told him, and left.

Her frustrations were burdensome that night. She didn’t get to bring anyone home; no one wanted to entertain her. She got rejected by Tommy, of all people. Joel had rejected her gifts to him. Tommy had the audacity to suggest that Joel would never want her.

And she also found out you knew. You knew all along she had her sights on Joel back then, and still you went after him. Seduced him. Dated him. Moved in with him. Agreed to marry him. And now, she realized, it must have been you that morning she spent the night at your place - you had the gall to initiate sex with him, knowing she was right in the next room. Show off much? She knew there was no way he could initiate sex with someone like you. She just knew it.

She could not let you get away with this. She could not let you marry Joel and trap him like this. You didn’t love him, you just wanted him because she had her sights on him first. Just like you wanted her friends. And her parents. And Tony. Why else would they all prefer you to her. The only explanation was that you had manipulated them somehow, just like you were doing to Joel. She had to put a stop to this before it’s too late.

She needed to talk to you. She needed to pretend she was still on your side, she had to befriend Joel somehow and warn him. She knew if she could just get him to see her properly, he would fall for her and leave you. She spent the next week trying to reach you. You were not at home. Neither was Joel. Her calls went unanswered, and messages unsent, but you hadn’t blocked her.

Where were you?

Finally after 10 days you returned her calls. You were on your honeymoon and didn’t have cell service.

What?

You and Joel eloped.

Joel was married.

To you, of all people.

And you didn’t even have the courtesy to invite her.

Obviously her usual tactics were not working.

As she hugged you with a fake congratulations, she made a new vow.

She needed to up her game.

***

WARNING: Light descriptions of Sexual Assault (On a Male Character)

Implied Drink Spiking

Some possibly inaccurate description of being drugged

Some descriptions of smut via voyeurism

You had a small gathering at a restaurant in town for your wedding and invited everyone. Everyone was so happy for you and Joel. You two had asked that in lieu of presents; everyone should donate something to the local children’s hospital where you worked. Nell had scoffed at this news. Just your MO. Saint Aria. You just had to be the one to do good. But she had to remember her end goal. She had to save Joel from you. So she smiled and clapped, along with everyone else, who had collectively decided to not engage her for long.

Every time she caught Joel alone and tried to engage him, someone conveniently needed him elsewhere, and he willingly followed. God. This guy was like a cow on a leash. No wonder it was so easy for you to trap him.

She tried to blend in, tried to catch up with the girls, as they say. But none of them wanted to linger with her. And none introduced their significant others to her. She tried to not let the fact that she was never invited to any of their weddings bother her, but it did. You were invited. You were bridesmaid, or maid of honour to quite a few of them. And she was cast out. She should’ve gotten used to it, all her friends gravitate towards you after she introduced you to them, but it still hurt. And now you had pulled the ultimate betrayal. Stealing Joel Miller from right under her. But patience, Nell. Patience. She had to play it cool, so that ultimately, people will see you for who you really were.

Her parents gave you a cheque for the hospital, and then another, just for the bride and groom. Despite the usual push and pull, they were insistent that you two accepted it, to start your life with, please, they said. Her father hugged Joel, asking him to take care of you, telling him that you were family, and now, so was he. He even danced with you after you had your father-daughter dance with your dad, your dad proudly declaring him your second father. You and Joel shared a dance, Joel holding you close, kissing you sweetly throughout.  

Mr Miller got all choked up during his speech, talking about how much he and his wife loved you, and how his late first wife would have loved you, and that no one deserved that engagement ring of hers more than you. And if you already had two father figures, he would gladly accept being the third, and that he already loved you as the daughter he never had.

Susan talked about what a sweet one you were. Ever since you were a baby. Always giving in to Nell, never wanting a fight, never in a strop – the gentlest person, the best person they all knew, a fact which was greeted with a lot of cheers and murmured agreements from everyone. Your friends gushed about you. Joel’s friends and Tommy talked about how dreamy he got when he was crushing hard on you. How happy they all were that both of you had found each other. How perfect you were for each other.

After hearing the speeches, Nell couldn’t stand it anymore. She went outside under the guise of a smoke. Tommy was there, already halfway through his own cigarette. She complained out loud about you. Why did everyone love you so much? She had the advantage on you in every way that counted. She was better than you. Much better looking, so much richer, so much more experienced in bed, as he could testify, she’s sure. She could offer everyone more than you could. And yet people were gagging for your attention and left her out like the leper. People were so stupid. So fucking stupid.

Tommy exhaled his last puff after listening to her rants, telling her that maybe she should grow up, join the real world, look at herself and think about what really mattered to people when it came to choosing friends, found family and loved ones. And then he walked back inside, leaving her there, still stewing.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What else mattered? Stupid man. He was just bitter she was lusting after his brother instead of him. Never mind. What could she expect from a low-class man-whore like Tommy Miller?

About a week after the reception, she decided to get back into action. She had contacted a man she knew who could get her things for the right price. She went over to your place, under the guise of bringing you a wedding present, waving your concerns away with her hand as usual. Joel had gone out running, and you were mixing something in a blender, making him a protein shake for when he came back. When Joel got home, Nell excused herself.

She watched your household for several weekends, learning your routines, your ins and outs, your movements. She was discrete, making sure you couldn’t see her. She needed to be careful. She had kept up the façade of staying away from the two of you, but staying friendly and calling you as she normally did. She couldn’t afford to have you suspicious.

One Saturday, your house was a little too quiet – Joel didn’t go running that morning. She got curious and went closer to see what was going on, prepared to pretend like she had just dropped by to give you something if need be. She went snooping at the windows, and finally, when she got to the kitchen windows, she saw what was delaying his run.

You were bent over behind the kitchen island, your shirt lifted up, Joel bent over you, his sweatpants lowered to his knees, his hands on your breasts, fucking you with such fervour you were reduced to a moaning mess. He was holding you close to him, his head next to yours, telling you that you made him feel so good, that he couldn’t get enough of you, that you were the sexiest woman in the world to him, that he needed you so much, loved you so much, that he wanted to put his baby in you, his hand snaking in between your legs and you shuddered and shook so wildly, screaming his name, as he made you cum. She watched as he finished inside you, collapsing on you, before pulling you to the floor where she could no longer see you both, but she could hear you two laughing and giggling and kissing, legs entangled on the kitchen floor.

Nell couldn’t believe her eyes. How could you do that to her? How could he? She was the one who had always made the effort to get him, and there he was, fucking your brains out. Just you wait, Joel Miller, she thought, as she made her way back to her car, her heart thumping with resolve.

The next day, she waited until Joel had gone out running. She had to be precise, she had timed everything. About five minutes before he was due back, she ran to your door, screaming your name, telling you that your mom had been in an accident, but no one could reach you. You immediately panicked, grabbed your purse and left, leaving the key under the pot for Joel. He never took his keys with him when he went running. She told you she would meet you at the hospital, and pretended to get into her car, as you peeled off the drive.

She went inside with the key you left, set things up, and waited on the couch.

Joel came back shortly, walking in through the slightly opened door, calling your name, placing his phone on the mantel. He froze when he saw her, before asking her where you were. She told him you had to run out to the store really quickly, you should be back any minute. He nodded, and seeing she was just sitting there scrolling through her phone, went into the kitchen. He took the shake you had prepared and drank it thirstily in several gulps. She heard his phone vibrate; saw that it was you calling him and hid it under the cushions. He came back into the living room and told her she should go. The two of you had plans. He should probably get ready.

Nell stalled, asking him where the two of you were going, could she come along? Joel quickly said no. He made a start to walk to the front door to open it for her when he stumbled. Joel couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt weird. His eyesight got all loopy, he felt drunk, his body felt heavy, his head disorientated. Nell got up and helped him stand, he tried to push her off, but she shushed him gently, and helped him to the couch. It took a few minutes for him to still – he kept trying to stand and get away from her, but after a few minutes his breathing relaxed and he laid still on the couch, both feet splayed on the floor, his head on the backrest, his hands limp by his sides, his eyes fighting to stay open.

Nell got to work. You would be back soon, and she needed to set the scene. She took his pants off and was immediately rewarded by what she had always wanted to confirm. Hung Miller was indeed, hung. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him, even flaccid. She sat between his splayed legs and put her mouth on him. He weakly tried to push her off, but she pinned his hands to the side, cooing at him to stop fighting it. You know you want this, Joel. I know you want me. I’m going to save you from her, Joel. It’s not right. This monster cock right here shouldn’t belong to a prude like her. He kept trying to push her off, fighting the drunken feeling in his head. She continued sucking him, it took a while before he even responded, thickening slightly under her assault. There you go, she crooned at him. Just as she was about to take him in her mouth again, the door fully opened.

You were standing right there, taking in what you came home to, after successfully reaching your mom through a phone call.

You calmly told her to get off your husband and get out of your house. She stammered excuses after excuses, telling you that they hadn’t meant for you to find out like this, that she was sorry, but they were in love, and she just wanted you to be happy, so she let you have him. Please Aria, forgive me, she said through tears. Please don’t leave him. He loves you, please Aria. You asked her how long? She told you it had been going on since she came back to town, at his office while you were at work. No one else knew, she swore. Again, you calmly told her to get out, you never wanted to see her again. She nodded weakly, and left, a satisfied smile on her face.

You looked at your husband, and immediately sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t responding to you the way a husband caught with his pants down would. You slapped his face to get him to focus on you, but it didn’t work. You tried to pull him up, but he was much heavier than you, and he fell back limply onto the couch. Your wrath turned into worry in an instant.

You called 911 immediately.

***

Nell waited for the fallout. Hours, days, weeks, and then a couple months went by, but none came. She hadn’t heard anything about you and Joel divorcing. She called a few people under the pretence of catching up, but no one entertained her. Everyone claimed to be busy and had no time to catch up. Some straight up declined her calls. But she saw a bunch of them hanging out at the usual spot, and then she noticed you. You and Joel were there - his arm happily around your shoulder, the two of you merrily laughing and chatting with your friends as if nothing happened.

You two were still together? How was that possible? Why didn’t it work? What else would it take? You literally came back to her giving your husband a blowjob, and you didn’t leave him? Didn’t you have any dignity at all?

She asked her parents if they had heard anything about you and Joel, and they said no. She tried calling Tommy, but he never picked up. Your mom didn’t pick up either. She was starting to feel left out. She had to find out.

She went to the usual club to find Tommy. He was there, this time with a woman, looking all cosy and intimate. He didn’t introduce her to Nell, and when Nell introduced herself, the woman looked away and busied herself with her phone. Tommy told her he didn’t have time for her tonight, he’s with someone. Nell asked anyway, if everything was fine with you and Joel as she had ‘heard some rumours’. Tommy took the lady by the hand and left. Nell went after him, asking him questions incessantly, but he ignored her.

She chased him and the woman all the way to his car before he aggressively walked towards her and warned her to leave him and his family the fuck alone. That he was done talking to her.

She got desperate. She went over to your house the next day. She waited until Joel came back from his run. When he saw her, he warned her to stay the fuck away from him and his wife. Nell tried to tell him that she was only doing that for their benefit, that they were meant to be together, it’s not too late. When you came out, she told you that she was in love with Joel, and he with her. You should take the high road and leave, let them be happy. Joel stood in front of you and raised his voice at her.

“Leave us alone. I am not kidding Nell. I don’t have any feelings for you. You and I are not together. We have never been together. And we will never be together. You are not fooling anyone. Be thankful I don’t have enough proof to report you for what you did. Leave us the fuck alone. Or I will get the law involved.”

“Joel, I understand you need to say this in front of Aria. But Joel, you don’t understand. She’s trapping you. She manipulated you. She made you believe we were a lie. Joel, please, open your eyes. Come back to me Joel. Please.”

Joel looked at her incredulously.

“You need help, Nell. Stay away from me. Stay away from my wife. Stay away from us.”

He turned around and took you in his arms, escorting you in. She called out to him again.

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

***

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

Joel huffed a long, frustrated breath. You just looked resigned and tired.

“How is that possible? I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone fuck you. Get help Nell, seriously.”

He took you inside and shut the door.

Fuck.

Why the fuck would she say that? She had taken it too far, right? This was going to blow in her face, wasn’t it?

Shit.

Think Nell, think. Bigger game plan.

What an ass. She told him she was pregnant, and he dismissed her? What a twat. Any normal man would panic, and this dude was just looking at her like she was crazy. And you. You would think that any normal woman would freak the fuck out if some woman was blowing your husband and claimed to have an affair with him. Suspicious, at the very least. Doubtful, perhaps. Angry, even. But you just stood there and took it. Such a pushover. You were living proof that a fancy degree didn’t mean squat. Dumb bitch.

Welp. She should give up. She really should. There was no way she could get away with this.

But then she wouldn’t get him.

And she really wanted him.

Sure, at first it was just about sampling his famously monster cock, but in her quest to seduce him since the beginning, she had seen him around you. Seen your relationship as husband and wife. Even when he was just looking at you from afar as he was working back in her house all that time ago, Nell envied the way he looked at you. It was never lust. Even back then, he never looked at you like you were a piece of meat he wanted to fuck. He looked at you like there were no other women on this planet. And then there were the ways he acted around you. How he was with you. How loving. How gentle. How romantic. How passionate. How doting. Like his life revolved around you. Even drugged, he was resisting her, loyal to you.

No one had ever looked at her the way Joel looked at you. Not even Tony.

She wanted that. She wanted someone to treat her the way he treated you. But not just any man, she wanted him.

When she got home, she laid on her bed and thought hard about her life, or the lack of one. Her parents had been nagging her to get a job or go back to school. Figure out a life for herself, they said. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. Not like they were destitute. Her spending were change found at the bottom of the couch to her dad. Now they had given her a deadline. Get a job or go back to school within three months, or they will cut her off.

Great. Now she had to go back to school and learn something. Again. Realistically, what job could she get that would fit her lifestyle? She spent hundreds on manicure alone. What minimum wage job would keep that up?

Fuck.

Maybe Tommy was right. She should grow up. Think clearly. Objectively.

Why did it bother her so much that Joel was in love with you? She wondered if she would feel like this if he had married someone else. She kept fixating on you. The fact that you got him bothered her.

What was this animosity she had with you?

For years she kept blaming it on her parents. They preferred you. You were their dream daughter. They neglected her. Prioritized you. So, naturally, she held a grudge against you.

But did they?

The truth was, she couldn’t even say that they were ever neglectful of her. Sure, they had offered you a lot of things your parents couldn’t possibly afford, but it was always after her needs were taken care of first, and you never took their offer, at least not when you started having an after-school job. You had always found your own ways to get what you needed, worked hard for everything. When you were little, you wore her hand-me-downs, played with toys she no longer wanted, read books her parents bought for her that she never bothered to read, gave in to her when she didn’t get her way. She had always been their priority. You were always second.

And yet, you were the one who helped every day when Susan suffered from her stroke. She came home for one summer where she didn’t lift a finger to help her own mother and took off without looking back, spending their money on a whim until she got kicked out of the university and had nowhere else to go. Honestly, right now? Even she could see why they saw you as a daughter. And still, they prioritized her, supported her, loved her, spent money on her, and tried to help her better herself.

She realized then what her actual problem with you was. What she really couldn’t stand about you. It was the fact that you were born lesser than her - in status, looks, background, opportunities – yet you always came out on top. In everything.

She had grown up always getting what she wanted. You had to work hard for everything you wanted. And now, what she wanted was Joel, she tried so hard to capture his attention, and couldn’t even get him to glance at her. And you got him to cater to your every need without trying.

It pissed her off.

But now, she had gone too far. You had never been unkind to her. Her friends may have left her for you, but you had always stayed.

Maybe it’s time to come clean. Accept defeat.

Sigh. So far, taking Tommy’s advice, being a grown up, a good person, sucked.

There was a knock on her door. Her parents came in when she answered. They looked dead serious. Worried, too, she sensed. As soon as her mother sat on her bed, Nell felt a prickling at the back of her neck. They told her your mom had called them. Told them about the baby. Was it true? Was she pregnant? With Joel’s baby?

This was it. Just confess Nell. No going back.

Get it over with. Just confess. And it’ll all blow over soon.

Go on, just say it.

NO!

Instead, she nodded, tears falling thickly on her cheeks.

She told them ‘everything’. How she and Joel had always wanted each other, how they carried out an affair from the moment she got back, how you had caught them at your house together, how you had poisoned him against her, and now he wouldn’t admit to the affair at all. And now she was pregnant with his baby, and he wouldn’t take responsibility and it was your fault! She knew you weren’t as perfect as everyone thought you were. You were conspiring against her all along!

Her parents listened; Susan held her until she fell asleep.

When they left the room, they had a discussion on how to handle this matter delicately.

They left her to ‘mourn and be sad’ for a few days. They came in to talk to her every day. Made sure she was alright, that she ate, drank, showered, and slept. And then they told her that they had a plan. There was no way Joel was going to be able to back out of his responsibility this way. Come on, get ready. We’re going out.

They drove her to the hospital and told her she needed to get a paternity test. Joel will join them there.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

How was she going to get out of this one?

She refused, saying that she didn’t want to see you. No, dear, Aria won’t be there. He promised. So, she went, having no other option but to obey. Joel was, indeed, there. There was no sign of you anywhere. She put on a happy face, a façade for the ‘affair’ for her parents, and went to kiss him, but he took a step back. She could see her parents’ frustrations with him. But he just looked fed up with this whole arrangement.

The doctor asked her a few questions first, reminding her that the conversation may be recorded since this was contestable in court.

(Oh, shit. This had gone too far now, just stop with the whole play, Nell. Just fucking confess while you still could!)

The doctor asked her a list of questions. When was her last period. When was the last time they had sex. And more mundane, very private questions.

She answered all of them. Joel scoffing and rolling his eyes at every single one that involved his… supposed participation.

When she laid on the bed for the ultrasound, she reached out to Joel so that he could hold her hand. She had imagined Joel holding your hand if you were doing this. She wanted that. But he stayed stock still where he was, not even looking at her. Her parents were looking at her with unreadable expressions. Joel ignored her. Her parents didn’t say anything, didn’t intervene either. Her father looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided not to.

When the doctor conducted the ultrasound, of course, she found nothing.

She was not pregnant.

Was never pregnant.

Joel left the room immediately, after releasing a very long breath of annoyance.

When the doctor explained all this to her, Nell cried. She was hysterical. She cried so much her parents came over to console her.

Might as well commit to the bit now, she thought.

“Did I imagine it all? Oh God, what have I done? I have to find Aria and Joel. I have to apologize to them!”

She dramatically ran down the hall, calling for Joel. When she saw him, she told him she was sorry, she didn’t know what was happening to her. Please forgive me Joel. Please.

When Joel turned, Nell saw that you were there in his arms. You looked at her with tears in your eyes. You didn’t seem angry, but you had a look of… pity? She couldn’t stand it.

She saw red again.

You were the reason she had to stoop this low. She lunged forward to scratch your face, but security caught her by the waist and pulled her back. Joel immediately got you out of there, making sure she couldn’t get to you.

The next thing she knew, she was restrained, and then everything went black.

***

Susan and your mom went to visit Nell at the place where she was ‘resting’, at least, that was what her family told everyone. Your mom gave her flowers from you, telling her that you couldn’t make it, you were busy at work. But you did say hi and hoped that she was doing better.

Nell smiled and took the flowers from you. She was feeling much better, she told the two mothers. These past few months had helped a lot. She felt rested, clear, happy. She had worked hard at recovery. She was never diagnosed with anything, or at least she was never told that she suffered from anything, the doctors thought she just needed rest. A few months away from stress, just until her delusions went away.

The delusions, she had admitted to her therapist, that caused her to spiral and conjured an entire affair that never happened. That could not have possibly happened since Joel didn’t have an office where this affair had supposedly taken place at, since Joel was out of town the whole time the ‘pregnancy’ was supposedly conceived, working on a project in the next state over. The delusions that could have destroyed her best friend’s marriage. That could have torn families apart. She cried in therapy when she talked about it. She felt so guilty. How could she had spiralled that badly? Was she so hung up on a man who never paid her any attention? To the point of sexually assaulting him? What was wrong with her? She was so thankful that you and Joel decided not to press charges. So thankful that her parents saw through the whole thing and got her help.

She made so much progress. She slept better, ate better, took time to meditate, and really, really found herself, she told the therapist. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to rejoin society, but she felt as if she would do so much better than before. She finally saw the errors of her ways, and understood, for once in her life, why people were so drawn to you. She should be more like you. You were selfless, that’s why people loved you. You had always dedicated your life to serve others. Even chose a line of work that would make sick children feel better. What could be more noble? She was even thinking of going back to school, locally, of course, so she could be close to her parents.

She told Susan and your mom that she would be released soon, but if it’s alright with her parents, she would take it easy for a while, before looking into courses she could take at the local university. One step at a time.

Both ladies heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that she was doing better.

***

When Nell finally went home a couple of months later, she had not seen you or Joel in eight months. When she got home, she told you, via text, that she wasn’t quite ready to face you, the embarrassment was too great. You understood. The two of you spent a couple of weeks just texting, like old times, before moving on to calls, and eventually, FaceTime.

The first time you FaceTime with her, she was nervous. She didn’t know how forgiving you were, just the thought of seeing your face mortified her. But you were beyond understanding, seemingly just happy to see your friend well again. Joel never joined your sessions, though. He wasn’t ready to face her, and to be frank, he wasn’t quite as trusting as you, believing that you should be careful with her, that he had an unease at the pit of his stomach about her. That you were too nice, too gullible. He just didn’t trust her at all. You understood, you would feel like that too, if you were him, after what she had done to him. So you and Nell chatted on FaceTime alone. She said you looked different – you were glowing. You brushed it off, saying she was seeing her own reflection on the phone, the two of you giggling like schoolgirls again. It was nice to get your old friend back, newly improved, in fact. She seemed lighter, merrier. You were proud of her for getting help.

After two months of being home, Nell said she was finally ready to meet with you. In public, of course. The two of you had agreed to meet at a café you frequented. When she arrived, you were already there. You looked radiant.

And very pregnant. 

Nell hugged you, disbelief in her eyes. You were just entering your eighth month and made fun of your waddling as you sat back down. You wanted to surprise her, you said. She seemed genuinely happy for you. Was it a boy or girl? Have you picked a name? When were you due? She was excited when you referred to her as Auntie Nell, touched that you were even considering having her in your baby’s life after everything she had done to you.

After the initial glow of baby talk had passed, Nell took your hand in hers, and looked you in the eyes. She was teary, looking so apologetic, and begged you for forgiveness. She didn’t know what came over her. I am so sorry, Aria. Please, sister, forgive me. You hugged her tight, telling her it’s okay. It’s all in the past. Let’s move forward, yeah? When Nell finally let go of you, her face was wet with tears, but she felt a thousand times lighter.

The two of you chatted a bit more, catching up on gossip, and the ongoings in the town. Finally, Joel’s truck pulled up. Nell froze. Joel got out to help you up and get into the truck. Nell kept her distance after giving you one last hug and told Joel how sorry she was about everything. She would take it all back if she could. She knew he might never forgive her, ever, but hoped that one day he would find it in his heart to forgive her. Joel nodded curtly, before he helped you into the truck, gave you a quick kiss, and ran around to the driver’s side.

***

About two weeks before your due date, you were advised to stay home.  You had gotten so big everything was swollen, and moving became a challenge. You told Nell this over the phone as you sat on your couch trying to decide what movie to watch, and how bored you were just sitting at home doing nothing. You couldn’t even clean – bending over became almost impossible without the possibility of toppling over. After you hung up, you started a movie, and received a text from Nell, asking if she and her mother could come over and keep you company – maybe watch the movie with you? Bring you Chinese food? They could bring their maid over; help you clean a bit?

You immediately said yes, your hunger and exasperation at your messy house taking over.

When she knocked on the door, you answered after what felt like five minutes, getting up from the couch unassisted had become some CrossFit challenge with how big you had gotten. Nell came in, bags of Chinese take-out in her hands, marveling at how much baby stuff was in your living room. So many plushies and teddy bears and half made furniture, waiting for Joel to get home to finish assembling. You asked her where Susan was. You thought she was coming? Ah, she’s parking the car, she said.

You leaned out the door to greet her, but Nell’s car was right there in your driveway, no Susan anywhere.

Something sharp pricked you in the neck.

And a pair of hands caught you as you lost consciousness.

***

WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOODY ATTACK

Nell sat in the defendant’s chair in the large courtroom, waiting for the jury to return. It had been a long few months for her. She couldn’t believe she was here. The nerve of some people. What was so wrong with wanting something, or in her case, someone? Her dumbass of a lawyer didn’t even try. She wanted to take the deal, for crying out loud. Screw the evidence. She was going to fight this. The juries will see she was in the right.

She had waited until you were awake again. She tied you up so you wouldn’t struggle. She needed to tell you she won, after all. Nice guys finish last, all that. She needed the satisfaction. She couldn’t believe how gullible you were. To trust her again after everything. Such a stupid bitch. Who would do that? Well, you would, evidently.

You kept asking her if she had taken her medication that day. That she was not thinking straight. She laughed at the idea that you were so straightlaced that you didn’t even know about tonguing your meds. How did you ever satisfy Joel, she had asked, if you didn’t even know what a tongue could do? He doesn’t deserve you, you prude. And what made you think she needed medications in the first place? She faked the whole delusions thing, you idiot. She didn’t spend years at acting school for nothing. She may have flunked out, but she did learn some useful skills. Her parents had started threatening to cut her off if she didn’t get a job soon, and she wanted Joel. Having delusional thoughts seemed the perfect opportunity to get out of adult responsibilities, and simultaneously, break your joke of a marriage up. That place her parents had sent her to was basically a luxurious five-star spa, and she got to lounge about for eight months at the price of spouting bullshit her therapists wanted to hear every couple of days.

You asked her why. What had you ever done to her to merit this? Because you always needed to be better than her. Even in infancy, you started walking before she did, even though she was born two whole weeks before you. You started talking first. You got better grades than her. Did better at piano than her. Got the best parts in school plays than her. You were liked better than her. Even her parents thought of you as the better daughter, even though they were not your real parents. All her friends liked you better than her. Her boyfriends liked you more than her. Men in general wanted you more than her. You got into a better programme than her in college, a programme that her parents were so proud of, they kept telling everyone about it, and yet her own accomplishments went unnoticed. And your biggest mistake of all? You let Joel Miller fall in love with you. You married him. Got pregnant with his baby. It should’ve been her. She deserved it, not you. She could offer him so much more than you could.

But it had become quite clear that he was besotted with you, and as long as you were around, he was never going to get over you.

So, you needed to go.

You begged her not to harm your baby. Please, don’t do anything to my baby. Please, Nell.

Oh you silly bitch, she would never do anything to Joel Miller’s baby. She was going to be there for him and raise the baby with him. It’s you that’s in her way, not your baby.

And with that, she jabbed you with another dose of sedative. She put gloves on and began to cut your baby out of your stomach.

She didn’t anticipate the problems she would face. She had watched so many videos on YouTube, but still, it took forever to cut you open. She had to be careful. She didn’t want to hurt the baby. She needed the baby alive, sure that Joel would mourn too long if he lost you both. The baby was the excuse she needed to spend time with him, to help him. After what felt like hours, she managed to cut you open.

She didn’t anticipate how much blood would be involved. But she persevered. She cut the layers that follow, and finally, after some struggles with an obscene amount of fluid, managed to get your baby out. It’s a girl. She was so happy. She pictured herself and Joel raising this little girl together, happiness finally within reach.

But the baby wasn’t crying. Wasn’t breathing. She panicked. If this baby died, Joel would never recover from your death. She needed this baby alive. Fuck. She had to call 911. But she couldn’t risk you being rescued. It was vital that you must die. She checked where she thought your pulse would be. She couldn’t really feel anything, couldn’t hear your heartbeat either. She washed her hands and got rid of the gloves and plastic apron she was wearing. She took a deep breath and dialled 911.

She gave the performance of a lifetime. She had just walked in to find you bleeding on the floor, your baby cut out of you. Please send help. She couldn’t find a pulse. Oh my God please don’t let my sister die. Please God. Her baby is not breathing, please hurry. She sobbed her way through the call, all the way until the paramedics and the police arrived minutes later. They cut the umbilical cord and cleared your baby’s airway, and after a while, she cried. You were still breathing, albeit very slowly. You had lost a lot of blood.

Nell panicked. You couldn’t still be alive. But she couldn’t do anything. She was surrounded by the police and paramedics. As they were loading you into the ambulance, a panicked Joel and Tommy arrived. Joel said something to Tommy, and Tommy went right inside. Joel climbed into the ambulance and off it went at full speed. She was stuck there, having to give her statement to the police. She was still keeping up with her acting skills, the grieving best friend who was so traumatized she could hardly speak. Someone must have attacked you, and her arrival must have spooked them away. She pleaded with them to let her go to the hospital to be with you. They ignored her pleas. She needed to answer more questions.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Tommy speak to an officer. He brought the officer inside, and they came back out, a plastic evidence bag with a teddy bear in it in the officer’s hand.

She was brought to the station and placed in an interrogation room. She was there for hours. They kept asking her to repeat her version of events again and again. She was exhausted. She later learnt that she was there for eight hours. When she was finally let out, she saw Tommy giving his statement to an officer, along with some of your friends. But they weren’t held in an interrogation room. No one would tell her anything about you or your baby.

She rushed to the hospital, keeping up the appearance of being the worried best friend. There were police officers outside your room. They wouldn’t let her in. She saw a grief-stricken Joel sitting by your bed, his eyes red, his hair dishevelled, you unconscious still, your hand in his. He kept kissing your hand and stroking your head, worry and love written all over his very tired face. She imagined him looking at her with such love one day once you passed.

She went to the nursery and found your parents and Joel’s father and stepmother inside, holding your baby. When they left the room, they saw her, but walked away. Police officers guarded the nursery as well, and wouldn’t let her in. She followed the path your parents and Joel’s took and saw them hugging her parents. They looked at her with disappointment on their faces, and before she knew it, cuffs were slapped on her wrists, and she was arrested for attempted murder in the first degree.

The three sets of parents didn’t do anything to stop the officers, even her own. She was brought back to the interrogation room. She was protesting the whole way, saying that she needed to be with you. She didn’t understand why they arrested her. What evidence did they have to treat you this way?

An officer placed an iPad on the table, and pressed play.

It was a snippet of a video, with audio. All caught on the nanny cam that Joel had installed in a Teddy Bear and placed on the mantel. There she was, clear as day, cutting your stomach open.

The officer stopped the video, told her that she’d better pray the charges doesn’t escalate to murder in the first degree, and walked out.

The trial only took two days. Joel sat on the prosecution side, your parents, his parents, Tommy and your friends surrounding him. Even her own parents were sitting with him. They had paid for the best lawyer they could find to help the DA prosecute their own daughter. They didn’t even bother getting her one. She had to make do with the stupid lawyer that was provided by the county.

The DA offered a plea deal. Ten years in prison if she pleaded guilty. She declined. Her dumbass lawyer tried to get her to take the deal. No! Why would she? When had fighting for what’s rightfully yours a crime? And then, just her luck, the dumbass botched every single argument and defence she had.

You were a conniving bitch who stole the love of her life right from under her. You manipulated him into hating her. You turned everyone against her. She was emotionally driven to get back at you. She was a victim of your bullying. She snapped.

Everyone who was called to the stand disputed this – even Joel, even her own parents. Everyone testified that you were the sweetest person they knew. That Joel was in love with you since high school. Even his ex-girlfriend who he was dating at the time sent a statement to that fact. She only had high praise for you. They all recalled how she had shamelessly flirted with Joel since forever, only to be rebuffed by him. Even the fact that she had drugged him and assaulted him came to light. You had taken him to the hospital right after, and he tested positive for Rohypnol. The only reason they didn’t press charges was because they didn’t have proof that she was the one who laced his protein shake. And that was why Joel had installed the Nanny Cam when you started being friendly with her again.

She’s mentally unstable – she did suffer from delusions. She was delusional. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was even treated for it. It wasn’t her fault. Seeing you being pregnant with the child of the man she loved triggered her.

Except, the Nanny Cam footage caught her admitting to knowing what she was doing all along. That she was never delusional. That she knowingly did what she did to steal him from you, and to get out of having to work for a living.

And then there was all the forensic evidence – Nell realized there and then that just because one watched a lot of CSI, didn’t mean one could get away with attempted murder.

Of course, the most damning of all, was your testimony. You stared her straight in the eyes as you told the court what had happened. No love left in your eyes for her.

Guilty.

She was sentenced to 21 years in a prison at the other end of the country. Enough time for you, Joel and Sarah to disappear that she couldn’t find you when she did taste freedom again.

As they took her away, Nell got weak in the knees, begging you to forgive her. You turned around and walked out hand in hand with Joel and the rest of your family, never wanting to see her again.

***

You sat between Joel’s legs, his arms wrapped tight around you, his chin on your shoulder as the two of you watched Sarah hold Ellie’s hand while they searched for shells along the beach behind your new home. You had decided to move as far away as you can from your hometown. All three sets of parents came along with you, buying houses a couple streets over to be close to the kids, having retired and sold their businesses. Tommy met your new colleague Maria, and very quickly moved in with her. He proposed after only a few months. Joel and Tommy started their own woodworking company, not using the Miller name in case Nell got out and looked for you. You got a job at a local pharmaceutical company, doing what you did back in your hometown for better money. You couldn’t risk working at a hospital again for obvious reasons. No one wanted to stay in that town after what happened. A fresh start. For everyone.

It took a lot of therapy for you and Joel to get here. A lot of nightmares. But you got through it all. You couldn’t bring yourself to get pregnant again after what happened, so you and Joel adopted Ellie a few months ago. Sarah was flourishing and was so in love with her little sister. Joel had been your rock through all of this, despite what Nell did to him. He told you that he thanked God every day that he didn’t remember what happened, although it took a while for him to get back to his old self after. These days, he was still as protective as ever, working hard to provide for you and family, coming home to you and his girls every day with a huge smile on his face. He had become a bit grumpy around your new friends, wary of everyone now, but you loved him for it. He held you tight at night and had a hand on you at all times whenever you two would go out, even if he had one of the kids in his hands. Your nightmares were of being attacked, while his was of losing you. Those few days you were unconscious were the worst days of his life, and he was sure that he wouldn’t survive if he ever lost you.

Nell’s parents cut her off for good. They willed all their money to charity and your children, their grandchildren, as far as they were concerned. You had always been more of a daughter to them than Nell ever was, you cared for them when they needed you, while she was off galivanting in college.

She wrote to you every day for a whole year before you instructed the post office to return any letters from her address. You never read any of her letters. To your knowledge, no one had ever gone to visit her, using distance as an excuse, not that anyone would, even if she was nearby.

As far as you and Joel were concerned, you lives began after the incident. Anything before that was not worth mulling over. This, right here, the four you, and the family you have around you, were all that mattered. If the two of you could get through what Nell put you through, you could go through anything. Together.

[rarepairdumpster]

Firelight Viktor AU Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: M C/W: Realizations, Sexual Tension, Disability Talk, Viktor deserves all the mobility aids

It takes a long time for Viktor to trust Silco. Longer than Silco expected, honestly.

Viktor is like a stick in the mud when it comes to trusting people. He doesn't give it easily. It takes hard work to ease it out.

It had taken over a year of working together for him to really trust Jayce, after all. And look where that got him.

Silco at least seems committed to gaining Viktor's trust. He notices Silco never makes promises he doesn't intend to make good on, and he's kinder than Viktor expected. 

He takes Viktor's suggestion to set up a free clinic in one of the old factories, and it's where Viktor visits often to see how he really is helping the undercity.

The first time he visits, it makes him emotional, because their are old grannies, etc, thanking the workers for helping with their joints. For the medicine. Saying they've had a new lease of life in the last week, etc

He notices their lack of mutations.

And when he asks one of the workers, they make an offended face and explain "Taking too strong a dose over long periods is what causes the mutations. We know the guidelines for administrating it."

Viktor smiles a little at the seriousness that the workers take their jobs. "I'm glad to hear it," Viktor nods. It makes him happy to know that Silco chose good people to hire.

When he gets back home, Viktor has a little cry, and pulls out an old tattered photo of his mother. Wishes he'd been older. Wishes she'd lasted longer. Wishes he'd met Silco sooner.

It's not long before Viktor realizes he's spending more time in the undercity than in Piltover. He keeps making excuses to not be in the lab as if Jayce isn't making similar ones for political ventures, and finds walking the streets topside to be increasingly uncomfortable.

Keeps hearing not-even-remotely-hushed remarks about uppity sumprats daring to ask for a new lift, for water purifiers, etc, and answering outbursts of "ungrateful trenchers"

"As if we havent spent enough money on them already"

Unkind comments about The Industrialist.

Viktor isn't eating very much at him and Silco's, now, weekly dinner at the last drop. All their words keep swirling in his head and it makes him sicker than he already is.

"What is it?" Silco asks, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.

"I don't think I can keep going back there," Viktor answers quietly, not look at him. He pushes some food around his plate with his fork. "The things I hear up there....its sickening. And I hear it more now than ever."

Silco nods. "I have somewhere for you to stay. When you're ready."

Viktor flushes a little. "I think I'm far from ready to stay with you."

"No, of course not," Silco chuckles. "I had a townhouse prepared when I first recruited you. I wanted you down here full time, if you recall."

"A townhouse," Viktor repeats, bemused. "Haven't heard that term used down here before." 

Silco smirks, eyes glinting. "You'd be amazed at the difference knocking a few walls, a fresh coat of paint, and some good furnishings, can make."

"You had that prepared for me?" Viktor asks, a little surprised that Silco went through all that trouble. "And kept it?"

"I had a feeling you would need it one day," Silco explains, taking a drink. "And I'm usually right."

Viktor can't tell if he wants to touch Silco's hand in thanks or kick him under the table for the presumption

"I need another week," Viktor decides. "To gather my things and make arrangements." 

"I'll send a truck whenever you're ready," Silco nods. 

Viktor stares at his food, then up at Silco. "I...Thank you."

"What for?"

"Treating me like a person," Viktor explains. "Like I matter."

Silco frowns like he's actually baffled.

"How else would I treat you?"

"It's just that you were right about everything. My friends, my job...everything." Viktor chuckles sadly. "You're the only one that's stayed consistent in how you've treated me."

Silco's lips thin. Just for a moment.

"I don't relish being right about such things, Viktor," Silco says quietly. "You must know that. If a man deserves anything, it's to be confident his friend has his back. No matter what."

"Then, I'm glad to have you," Viktor smiles, even though he can feel tears stinging his eyes, "as a friend."

Silco almost startles, but contains himself. 

Instead....he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief.

Offers it without a word.

Viktor dabs his eyes and thanks Silco, taking a few deep breaths before speaking again. 

"I should go. I have things to prepare."

Let me escort you, Silco thinks, but he doesn't give voice to it. 

Viktor is still too entangled with the firelights for that.

It only takes Viktor a couple days to gather his meager things from his small apartment and make sure that only what he wanted remained on record at the academy. 

He called Silco for the moving vehicle early and was a little embarrassed when all he had to put in the large truck was a small end table, his shower chair, and a couple crates of personal items.

The truck driver gives the contents a funny, half-irritated look, but shrugs. Whatever. Silco is paying for the fuel and his time, so who cares.

Silco is there to greet him when they pull in front of the house. It's nestled between two much taller buildings but still contains the winding brass and chemtech accents native to Zaun. Viktor hasn't seen anything so magnificent that was his.

Silco glances at the limited contents that the driver heaves out of the truck and he raises a brow. "I suppose its a good thing this place is fully furnished."

Viktor looks away, embarrassed. "The academy provided my previous apartment and furnishings. I had planned to get my own things eventually but...nothing ever seemed right."

Silco hums, and suspects he knows why, but doesn't comment. He just opens his palm and reveals the key

Viktor hesitates a moment before taking the key, letting his fingers brush along Silco's palm. "Thank you, again."

"No need." Silco smirks. "I get as much out of this arrangement as you do."

"I'm not sure about that," Viktor chuckles trying to hide the flush of his cheeks. Gods, the crush he had been developing on the man just kept growing. He just hopes that some day he'll have the courage to do something about it. 

"Are you busy?" Viktor asks, a little hopeful. "I could make some tea."

Silco gives him a once-over, and Viktor feels like he got caressed from ankle to throat  "I could drink."

Viktor goes to grab one of his boxes and Silco stops him with a hand on his upper arm. 

"Let them take care of it," Silco smiles. "You've had a long day." 

Viktor nods and goes to the door, opening  it for the first time

The brief touch on his arm lingers, a phantom sensation, warm and tingling.

When he opens the door, he sees that most of the furnishings are covered, but the amount of space is more than Viktor has ever occupied. 

"I do have one thing to show you," Silco smirks, a glint in his eye. He walks forward into the house, looking back to make sure Viktor is following him. He winds his way to the back of the house, near the kitchen, where a small lift was tucked away. "I knew relying on stairs all the time would be difficult for you."

Viktor draws in an unsteady breath. A personal lift? In his house?

Silco was spoiling him.

Silco is a bit hesitant at Viktor's silence. "I understand if I was being too presumptuous or--"

When Viktor's hands fly around his chest and he feels the warm heat of Viktor's body against him, he goes stiff for a moment before letting his arms wind around Viktor as well.

Almost like he can't help himself, Silco tucks his face into Viktor's neck and inhales.

Viktor isn't usually one for acting out of emotion, but no one had ever thought of him like this. His leg and back were an inconvenience and a problem to be fixed.

But Silco saw him.

"I'm sorry, I..." Viktor couldn't bring himself to pull away from the warm embrace. Not yet.

"It's alright."

Silco ends up being the one to part them, the temptation too strong when his lips were so close to the skin of Viktor's neck.

"I believe I was promised tea," Silco gives Viktor a soft smile, his hands resting on the boys shuulders

"Ah. Yes." Viktor flushes. "Right."

Arch + Woods

[changingplumbob]

Villareal: Chapter 6, Part 4

Devin and Luna finish their date while Joey has a night on the town.

CW: Moderate sim spice. Content Warning Guide

Luna and Devin use some German and Italian. Amore (Italian) Love Schatz (German) Treasure

Devin: I love seeing you happy

Luna: Me to schatz. Now, do we need to do anything about the dollhouse

Devin: I fixed it

Luna: Yes but Rilian lied to me about it and Alfred smashed it in the first place

Devin: I guess we’ll need to talk to them about lying eventually but I don’t want to be too hard, after all he was only trying to cover for his brother. The destructive toddler is more tricky

Luna: Lies and cheating are normal for kids their age I suppose. And if I think, it’s unlikely Alfred means the destruction maliciously

Devin: We can afford to replace whatever he breaks but I don’t think that’s a good way to raise him long term. When will they be able to understand consequences

Luna: They’re old enough to start noticing cause and effect but consequences don’t make sense unless they immediately follow the action so… not yet

Devin: I’m so glad I got a smart wife

Luna: It’s basic developmental psychology

Devin: Amore mio, nothing about you is basic

Luna: *laughs* Thank you

The waiter returns, placing their ordered food and drinks in front of them.

Devin: This looks good! Not as good as your placemat but still

Luna: I guess it’s time to see if they are any good here

Devin: I don’t know, that host could use some practice at her role

Luna: Maybe she’s just nervous talking to all the celebrities

Devin: Maybe. She could take some acting classes though, I mean this is Del Sol Valley. There’s so many actors here, how did one of them not get hired

Luna: Not sure, maybe they were afraid of the indoor pools

Devin: What, the fountains?

Luna: They’re too deep for fountains I think. Plus over there some patrons are actually jumping in

Devin: *raises glass* To those brave enough to pack swimwear under formal wear

Luna bursts into a fit of giggles and the pair take turns having a bite off each other’s plates.

Devin: This is not as great as it looks. It looks so good but the flavour is just… not here

Luna: You sure that’s not just your refined palate talking

Devin: Amore, far more than my palate is refined

Luna: It’s your own fault really for making excellent pasta

Devin: And you and Joey for making excellent baking

Luna: Oh, that reminds me, when you were out on your run the twins were playing with their food truck stuff, it was adorable

Devin: Aww! Did you take a photo

Luna: Better, I got a video

Devin: Yes! Show it to me when we’re home okay? I don’t see any of my friends with cameras but you can never be too sure

Luna: Are the paparazzi our friends

Devin: They agree not to post any photos of the kids so I’d say so. You know some places there are no social norms against it

Luna: Really?

Devin: Yeah. Some paparazzi will battle it out for shots of babies and toddlers to put in magazines. Some places have had to make it illegal to take photos of a minor. Thank the watcher Del Sol Valley is not that kind of place

The pair finish up their meal, pay their bill and get set to head home. Technically they still have Joey on babysitting for another half hour. They decide to sneak to their bedroom for some alone time before Joey hands back the twins to enjoy his Saturday night.

Having browsed the profiles in the area Joey has found one he’s intrigued by. As normal he only goes for profiles of women that indicate they don’t want anything serious or long term. This one is a bit older than the average women he’s with, but something about her makes him accept the match and agree to meet at the local nightclub.

Joey: Marianna?

Marianna: Joey? I didn’t think you’d be as young as your profile picture. Most people on here use an older photo. I once had a “35 year old” who turned out to be 50!

Joey: I hope I’m an improvement. You look every bit as good as your picture

Marianna: Flattery will get you everywhere. Although I am surprised you accepted my match, I figured I’d be too old for you

Joey: Age is just a number, normally one not too tied to experience

Marianna: *laughs* Well I’ve certainly had experience

Joey: I’ll do my best to keep up

Marianna laughs as a blush spreads across her cheeks. For a moment Joey wonders if it’s all of her that has blushed as she almost looks like she’s in a pink haze. That idea seems to be pushed from his mind as soon as he thinks it though. He shakes his head to try get his bearings back.

Joey: Marianna, we are at a nightclub. Would you care to dance?

Marianna: I’d love to

The pair head inside and Joey feels himself relax. He’s a bro, places like this are a second home for him. Initially the two dance around each other but following a few drinks Marianna pulls Joey over to one of the small loveseats surrounding the floor to give him a dance of his own. Joey thinks she’s glowing in these lights, and again that though disappears as quickly as it appeared.

Marianna: Forget small talk, let’s find somewhere quieter

Joey: Are you sure? We could go back to my place

Marianna: No, I don’t want to wait that long

There’s plenty of small pockets of space snaking off the dancefloor and Joey and Marianna find one that’s quiet but where they can still hear the beat of the DJ booth. Marianna pulls her top off and Joey stares at her chest in delight. Before he can make a move however she jerks his chin up and looks him in the eyes. He feels his mind sharpen.

Marianna: Are you okay with us doing this

Joey finds himself thinking back on his past hook ups, few of which could be called conventional. Yeah, he wants to do this. He’s just about to start explaining that he’s aromantic and absolutely consents when Marianna smiles and leans in to kiss him deeply and passionately. Almost like she’s read his mind. The focus goes away and again he’s swept up in his desire.

Joey is glad of the chance to feel her properly. Despite the age starting to show on her face she obviously kept herself fit.

Joey: You are beautiful

Marianna: And you are hard

She presses down firmly causing him to jerk up in response. Watcher he wants her so bad. As if in a dream he watches her undress fully and finds himself wondering if they’ll be seen, but again that thought vanishes. Marianna removes his pants and Joey is glad to find himself unconstricted as she turns and slides on to him. Joey thinks all kinds of words that his parents would scold him for using as she moves herself back and forth. All he can utter however are moans, getting more and more lost in the moment. He opens his eyes at the change in pressure only to see Marianna smiling between his legs. When she’s finished Joey pulls her in for a kiss. Before he can thank her he feels his senses dull and his vision go black.

Hi friends! You may be confused but since it's a semi cliff hanger I'd just like to assure you Joey consented to that woohoo and he is not going to get assaulted in the next part so... try not to freak out even though he's unconscious.

Previous ... Next

[louisupdates]

The Habit He Can’t Break 3/4

IQ 123 | Gordon Masson | 9.11.2023

We Made It

Making sure that the Faith in the Future tour delivers Tomlinson to his growing legion of fans, PM Sherwood’s first long association with the artist manager, Vines made him the obvious choice when the artist first began his solo career.

“I remember doing a lot of promo dates around the UK and US before we started touring properly,” says Sherwood of his work with Tomlinson. “In fact, one of the first shows I remember doing with Louis was in Madrid when he played in a stadium, and I could see it was a taste of things to come.”

The partnership between Sherwood and Vines is crucial. 

“In terms of the show growing, our biggest challenge is keeping costs down, because we’re extremely cautious on ticket pricing,” says Vines. “We don’t do dynamic pricing, we don’t do platinum ticketing, we don’t do paid VIPs, we don’t increase ticket prices on aisle seats – all those tricks that everyone does that most fans don’t know about: we don’t do any of those.”

“So, when it comes to the production side of things, we need to be incredibly careful. But I’ve been working with Craig for a decade, and he knows the importance of trying to keep costs as low as possible. For instance, we’ll run the show virtually a number of times, so Louis can watch it with the show designer, Tom Taylor, make comments and tweak things. Then we’ll go into pre-production. But we try to do as much in virtual reality as possible before we take it into the physical world.”

Sherwood states, “Basically we started out with two or three trucks, but now we’re up to nine, and things seem to be getting bigger day by day.”

Thankfully, Sherwood has amassed a vastly experienced crew over the years, allowing them to handle even the most unexpected scenarios. “I’ve been touring since the dawn of time, but the core crew I work with now has been together since about 2010, and I trust them implicitly, so I’ll leave it up to them who they hire, as long as they think I’m going to like them, and they all get along with everyone. So far, it has worked well,” Sherwood reports.

And the veteran crew has dealt with some terrifying weather extremes on the current tour, including a show at Red Rocks in Colorado, where the audience were subjected to a freak, storm with golf ball-sized hail stones injuring dozens of people. 

Elsewhere, the crew has had to act quickly when the threat of high winds in Nashville caused problems on that outdoor run. “We didn’t want the video screens blowing about above the heads of the band, so it must have been amusing for the audience to see us taking them down,” Sherwood reports. 

Indoors in Europe, the environment has been more controllable. The production itself involves an A-stage set 180° across the barricades, although Sherwood says that on occasion, a catwalk is also used by the perimeters. 

“It’s a great lighting show and fantastic for audio, as we have phenomenal front-of-house sound engineer – John Delf, from Edge Studios – who makes life very easy for the rest of us,” says Sherwood. He also namechecks Barrie Pitt (monitor engineer), Oli Crump (audio system designer), Tom Taylor (lighting designer), Sam Kenyon (lighting technical director), and Torin Arnold (stage manager), while he praises Solo-Tech for supplying the sound, and Colour Sound Experiment (CSF) for taking charge of lighting, video, and rigging equipment.

Indeed CSE has 10 personnel out with the Faith in the Future tour. “We have eight screens on the road – six on stage plus two IMAGS that we use wherever appropriate, the company’s Haydn Cruikshank tells IQ.

“We need to tweak the rigging on a daily basis, as we move to different venues, but other than that, it’s a fairly smooth process thanks to Craig Sherwood. He is old school and planned and worked on the production very far in advance, which is a great scenario for all involved. Craig is definitely one of our favorite production managers to work with.”

Garry Lewis at bussing contractors Beat The Street is also a fan of PM Sherwood.

“Craig split the European tour into different runs. So, from Hamburg to Zürich, we had two super high decker 12-berth buses for the tour party and two 16-berth double-deckers for the crew,” says Lewis. “After the show in Athens, we still have the two super high-deckers, as Louis knew them – he prefers to spend time on the bus, rather than in hotels – but we also have two 12-berth super high-deckers for the crew, as well as another crew 16-berth double-decker.”

Lewis continues, “We’ve worked with Craig for a good few years, and we have a great relationship with him. He plans everything way in advance, so it means it’s all very straightforward for us with no issues. So, we use single drivers for each bus, except on the longer runs, or when our drivers are scheduled for prolong breaks, and then we’ll fly an extra drivers as needed.”

1/4, 2/4, 4/4

[brian-in-finance]

Instagram

GIVING CREDIT

Saluting the behind the scenes talent making movie magic

Rob Youngson is a unit stills photographer for film and television. He's captured images for Belfast, A Haunting in Venice, The Great Escaper, Heanstopper St and Atlanta S3. He also shoots stills for posters. 'An effective still image has to communicate a lot in a single moment. An onlooker should know the tone, the genre and who stars in the production within a few seconds. It should leave them with a question: what happens? The answer to which is always, to go and see the film. It's the visual equivalent of a hook in pop music.'

How would you describe your job in simple terms?

I work with the cast and crew to capture striking still images during filming - without being a distraction or affecting the schedule.

I work with the publicist to ensure I get the images needed to publicise the film. I also capture behind-the-scenes images, which highlight the collaborative process and anything unique about the production. I may work with the props department to take period-accurate portraits for set dressing.

I've also consulted actors on how to use old-fashioned prop cameras convincingly.

How did you get into set photography?

I trained and worked as a theatre lighting designer while photographing bands on the side. Then I discovered that this job existed through an article in Nikon Owner magazine.

It was an interview with Kimberley French (Brokeback Mountain, The Revenant). I knew straight away I had to do this. So I went to work at one of the rental companies that hires cameras and lenses to productions.

I cleaned the kit, loaded the trucks and got to know people in the industry. used any leave to work on short films and then went freelance. Early on, I assisted an established unit stills photographer on some studio shoots. He then recommended me for a job he couldn't take and that put my work in front of the right people to get hired again.

What's the biggest misconception about your job?

That still images are screen grabs from the film. This is a widespread misconception, even within the industry. It doesn't work for two reasons. The technical reason is that the common shooting frame rate of 24fps doesn't freeze motion enough for those screen grabs to be printed at billboard size.

The second and most important reason is artistic; what works well for a moving image doesn't necessarily make a strong still photograph. Another misconception is that actors are difficult to work with. They are usually lovely. Actors have to step into a vulnerable place while surrounded by noise and crew and kit. They have to keep going to that place again and again for different camera angles. Part of what makes a good unit stills photographer is respect for the acting process. Sometimes my job is knowing when to step away and allow the actors space to work.

What's been the most memorable moment on a film set?

Watching Judi Dench and Kenneth Branagh make each other laugh on day one of shooting Belfast. We had all been in lockdown for so long, it felt like a new beginning. It felt like photographing love and hope and friendship.

What's the worst thing about your job?

Missing time with my family because I'm working away. Sometimes standing in a field on a night shoot, in February, in the snow, I start to question it. Those moments can feel tough. But a lot of the crew are in that same situation with you. Working on good scripts with nice people makes the time away from home, the long hours and driving, a lot easier.

What's the best thing about your job?

Knowing that my images help stories to find an audience. Stories that take years of hard work and hundreds of people to get told. On set, the best thing is being witness to incredible acting, from both legends and up-and-coming talent. Seeing what the Heartstopper cast are doing for LGBTQA* representation right now is special. I'm also currently working with two incredible young actors. I am so excited for more people to discover their storytelling potential.

If someone wants to do your job, what's the best route in?

Get on to set any way you can, in any role. Take photos across all genres of photography. Welcome honest feedback on your work. Don't sweat the kit you haven't got. You'll get hired for your eye and how well you get on with people, not what's in your bag. The necessity to work on low/no-budget jobs early in your career is a barrier to many, especially as a lot of opportunities centre around expensive cities. Screenskills and BAFTA have resources for helping bridge that gap - seek those out. Go and see as much art and as many films as you can.

Remember… (most memorable moment on a film set) Watching Judi Dench and Kenneth Branagh make each other laugh on day one of shooting Belfast. We had all been in lockdown for so long, it felt like a new beginning. It felt like photographing love and hope and friendship. — Rob Youngson

[tsunflowers]

feeling a little concerned about my job security bc we’re underperforming pretty significantly compared to last year’s sales and the wholesale manager is leaving at the end of july. but then again if I remember correctly the wholesale manager at the time and another long term employee both left within a month of me being hired and the company obviously kept on trucking after that

[truckhire]

Trailer hire Laverton: Boost Business by using Top-Quality Trailers!

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The main benefit of using a flat tray truck is its versatility. The open, flat bed of these vehicles provides for simple loading and unloading from either side. As a result, they are perfect for transporting large or unevenly shaped cargo. 

Furthermore, long term truck hire in Melbourne from recognised suppliers offers large trucks and fleets with plenty of room. It allows for the efficient delivery of huge quantities of enormous objects in a single trip.

Hiring a heavy rigid truck from a reputable truck and rigid vehicle supplier provides various advantages for enterprises that require the delivery of goods.

These vendors offer specially constructed big rigid trucks capable of carrying heavy loads. These trucks are useful for industries such as construction, logistics, and manufacturing since they can handle harsh weather conditions and rugged terrain.

Reasons to Hire Trailers and Trucks from Reputable Companies:

Reliable truck and lifting solution suppliers provide a diverse choice of lifting vehicles, such as crane-mounted trucks, forklifts, tip trays, and trailers, ensuring that businesses can obtain the perfect equipment for their individual requirements.

Businesses can avoid the initial expenditures of owning and maintaining their own fleet by hiring rigid trucks. 

Truck rental gives flexibility, allowing firms to change their transportation needs based on demand. 

This is especially useful during high seasons or when there is an unexpected surge in workload.

Furthermore, renting a truck allows firms to experiment with various types of vehicles without making a long-term commitment. This adaptability is especially useful for start-ups and businesses in transition.

Their vehicles are properly outfitted to ensure optimal performance and reliability, in addition to supplying big rigid trucks. To ensure the seamless functioning of their fleet, they have a professional full-time mechanic on staff at their onsite workshop, who performs regular maintenance and repairs.

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Source

[kabillieu]

Because being in a military family means moving all the time, the Air Force hires movers to pack our things and load a truck. We're doing a partial move this time to help facilitate the sale of our house. So movers are here packing 80% of our things today and tomorrow, and then they'll load a truck and put our stuff into storage on Friday.

That will leave the weekend to rearrange what we have left, and then on Monday and Tuesday a painter and handyman will stop by to freshen up our paint and fix a few things. Then we'll get photographs and list the house.

I have never sold a house before, so I'm trying not to be the world's most miserable person through this process because I know it's awful for everyone, and we have people who are doing a lot of the work for us. The reward on the other end is a downpayment on our (hopefully) new house. It's amazing to see how investing (in the loosest sense of the term) in property is truly wealth-building. We bought two houses with VA loans, which means we didn't have to have a downpayment for either house. Now we're selling one and buying another (is my life Monopoly?) and because we have a lot of equity in the house we're selling, and because the house will likely sell for a lot more than we bought it, we'll have a nice-sized downpayment for this house we're buying in Alabama. Of course, the market is also much more expensive, but that doesn't change the fact that because we were able to buy one property, we can buy another, and so on as long as nothing disastrous happens to the housing market.

So many things about military service exist to give service members ladders into the middle class or even upper middle class. It's one of the last "companies" in the U.S. that you can use to facilitate an upward progression of socio-economic mobility. I really hitched a ride as spectator to this, even though it affects my life too obviously, but Dominic was a college dropout with no family money or support who enlisted in the late 90s. Through military programs he was able to finish college, commission as an officer, and get two graduate degrees. Through the GI Bill, he's paid for some of his college, and the rest he can transfer to family members. When we bought our first house (the one we're now selling) we were poor and had no savings, but using a VA loan meant we didn't need a downpayment. And just like that we got our foot into the door (haha) of the housing market.

There's a lot to criticize about the predatory way the military can behave with poor, oftentimes people of color who feel like the military is a last resort, but I've also seen how the structure of the military can take someone bright and ambitious like my husband and give them the tools they need to be very, very successful. My spouse did not grow up with people who had the resources to give him a leg up. I did. But he didn't.

Anyway, now I'm just rambling, but I'm constantly amazed by how an institution I find so problematic can also be a shining example of American progress. It's very socialist! The U.S. military is THE most socialist institution in this country imo--or at least the biggest.

[rcreveal]

The Trouble with a Keen Manager-Ch 4

Ineffable Husband banter as Crowley applies for a job, Aziraphale does a good deed, and Crowley has to find bathing privileges as the extent of his loss of powers (thanks to the new Hellish manager) continues to be revealed.

“You want to hire me!”

The barkeep and owner of the Dirty Donkey looked around the ‘Help Wanted’ sign held in his face by a fist.

The fist and ropey arm were attached to a young bloke with a mop of unkempt red hair to his chin, but nevertheless, glaring at Dave through dark sunglasses with a determined expression under a two day beard. God Almighty, the lad was wearing a great kilt like he was born to it topped with a black leather waistcoat over a black undershirt.

“Why on earth would I want to hire you?” retorted Dave to the kilted apparition.

Which seemed to knock the bloke back, he dropped his head and arm, momentarily despondent.

Dave heard the lad mutter, “Alright, we do this the old fashioned way,” then to Dave with a winning grin, “How about a wager? I manage this horde,” the lad stuck his thumb over his shoulder at a crowd of impending customers, ”And you hire me as your new barkeep?” The cheeky bastard held out his hand.

Dave glanced at the crowd and the hand.

“If you can sort out this lot, you’ve got a deal,” said Dave, shaking the demon’s hand.

While Crowley was engaged over at the Dirty Donkey, Aziraphale closed up his shop for a stroll.  He generally strolled at unplannable intervals, all part of his long term success in not selling books to the public, but this stroll had a specific goal in mind.  Backtracking Crowley’s most recent walk to his shop, Aziraphale soon found the Bentley, parked in the neighborhood, but uncharacteristically bedecked with parking tickets.

Tutting gently from across the street, the angel looked at the sheaf of tickets under the windshield wiper.  A tow truck was just turning down the street with the vintage car in its sights, (the tow truck driver, after running the Bentley’s plates, had found that it wasn’t exactly registered, so he reasoned that it wouldn’t exactly be stealing if he were to tow it away and sell it to the highest bidder of his extensive underground network).  Aziraphale made a little shooing motion at the tow truck before walking across the street and letting himself into the car whereupon the tow truck driver suddenly remembered that the Bentley was very definitely registered and to a feisty gentleman.  He drove on, thinking it would be a good idea to let others in his circle know to leave this car alone.  Raising an eyebrow at the departing tow truck, the angel reached around to gesture at the tickets, evaporating them.

Patting the dash gently, he told the car, “You are under my protection.  I don’t know what Crowley would do if you came to any harm!”  The Bentley’s engine made a purring noise, and one travel sweet popped into existence. “You’re very welcome. Now, don’t tell him I was here!” With that good deed done, Aziraphale let himself out of the Bentley and continued his stroll in the neighborhood.

Dave had to hand it to the rough Scottish stranger, he knew his way around a bar.  The red-haired hellion charmed the old biddies from the Agatha Christie reading group, reminisced with the old gaffers back from their venerable association meetings and trash talked with the blue collar workers coming off their shifts.  Completely ignored the come-ons of the co-eds, serving them with an impenetrable professional calm, while timing his round of clearing up the empties with somehow deflecting a couple of toughs that came in to bother the young ladies.  He made every drink flawlessly and never once missed an order.   All while he made perfect change, mixed drinks and engaged with the public.  The lad was an answered prayer.

After the crush of people had filtered out and even the patron set on getting himself messily drunk had been sent on his way, Dave walked up to the kilted red-head with a look of grudging respect on his face.  

“Alright then, you won the bet fair and square.  You’re hired.” Dave extended a hand to the grinning youngster to shake.   “What’s yer name, lad?”

“Anthony.  Anthony Crowley,” said the young bloke with the unfinished look of one who hasn’t quite filled out into his shoulders, yet. 

“So, Anthony, rules are, you work your whole shift.  You don’t go home with the customers.  No drinking on the job. And I’ll fire you the second I see you do something out of line.  Come back this evening.  And take a bath, lad!  You reek!  The only thing dirty about my pub is the talk!” Dave said.

Combing his hair out of his face with his fingers and scrubbing one cheek with his palm, Anthony admitted, “I’m fair skint at the moment, so I’d appreciate a forward on my wages.”  

Dave reached over to the tip jar, handed it to Anthony, “You earned this today.  Be back here at 5 o'clock.”

Crowley poured the contents of the tip jar into his spog, and waved jauntily at Dave as he headed out the door.

When Crowley arrived back in A. Z. Fell’s Bookshop, he found Aziraphale at his large desk reading a newspaper with a cup of tea at his elbow.

“I thought you were fixing my clothes!” complained Crowley.

Looking over the top of his paper, Aziraphale remarked calmly, “The cleaning agents have to have the proper amount of time to work.  Did you have any luck with that job?”

Grumbling at the indignity of it all, Crowley replied, “Yes.  As a matter of fact I start tonight, but I need a shower.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, eyes back on the newsprint, “Then go back to your place and bathe.”

“They turned the water off at my place,” admitted Crowley.

Aziraphale let the paper fall to his lap.

“And the electricity.  Actually, I had to pick the lock to get in the last time.”

“Crowley!” 

“So it wouldn’t work for me to walk back there, anyway.”

“Walk!  I thought you drove over here.”

“Used my last miracles to drive the Bentley over.  Haven’t been issued any new one’s yet,” replied Crowley.

“You could always use petrol,” Aziraphale said reasonably.

“Put petrol in the Bentley?!?” Crowley said shocked, “Do you have any idea what that would do to her engine?”

“It might make her turn over,” suggested Aziraphale.

“I am not putting petrol in the Bentley and I can’t use my place to shower, anyway, so,” digging around in his spog to a rustle of specie and clink of coinage, Crowley came up with a tuppence which he held up to the angel.  “So I have payment for the use of your facilities.”

Aziraphale folded his paper and crossed his arms.

“My bathing facilities are certainly worth more than a tuppence public bath, Crowley!” 

“How about as much as a Turkish bath?  I’ve got a shilling in here somewhere,” Crowley replied, still digging.

“If you think that I don’t know how much a bath costs at the YMCA, in today’s money, then you had better think again!  You obviously don’t, but I’ll let you walk yourself down there to find out!” 

Crowley recognized that the angel was getting quite perturbed, and as he was Crowley’s best bet to get a bath, he didn’t know why his natural tendency to antagonize the angel was so present today.

“Ok, ok, sorry, sorry!  What do you think is a fair price to use your magnificent bathing facilities?” Crowley oiled.

Aziraphale gave him the look of one who is not to be gotten round that easily.

Then they got down to haggling.

Unfortunately, for Crowley that is, Aziraphale had kept premises for a very long time and not only had a better idea of VAT than the demon, but had paid his bills (on time, of course) as well.  Not only could he calculate the gallons per minute to his bath and cost to heat said bathwater, he could haggle like a Victorian Cockney housewife.

Aziraphale was saying, “That's the absolute best deal in the neighborhood for a week of bathing privileges,” hand out as Crowley counted pound coins into it, ”Now, if you're in need of housing, I've a spare bedroom and I can offer you a reasonable rate of…”

But Crowley snatched the towel out of Aziraphale’s hand and headed to the bath, saying over his shoulder, “I'll kip in my car before I pay you room and board, angel!”

Taking the view that he could clean his underthings and himself most efficiently with the undergarments on,  Crowley lathered up from toes to nose and sluiced off with as much efficiency as possible.  Clean and steaming mad, (he could still regulate his body temperature, so he figured he could dry his clothes that way) he stomped back down the stairs toweling his hair.

“Why do you even have a bed? I thought you said sleeping was inefficient?” Crowley complained to the angel.

“People don't bat an eye at a bookseller who reads books in bed, but they do get curious if I stay up all night in the shop too often,” answered the angel, not to be goaded. “Feeling better?”

“No! I am not feeling better! I'm feeling humiliated having to get a job to be able to do my job!”

“Were you able to think of all the things you’d need to do that ‘job’?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“Yeah,” growled Crowley.

“Well then, write it all down and requisition it. I find that several requests a day can really get your point across.  Do you need any paper?” The angel reached for a spare ledger.“No!  Forms are the only thing I have got in abundance!” unable to bear the angel’s smug looks any longer, Crowley stormed out the door in a flash of dark tartan.

Thanks for reading! Your kudos and comments make my day!

If you would like to read more, check out my Master List for one-shots and other multi-chapter Good Omens fanfic

[wordsbyt]

When I think about it, I ask myself why I am thankful?

I am, but not because of all I have been given. That’s been a lot, but I am also thankful for what I wasn’t given.

For not being given everything I wanted as a kid. I learned early on to enjoy the simple things. The small gifts and pleasures. That a bag of chips was a big deal. People singing in your backyard was better than anything you could watch on 1000 TV channels, besides, there was only 3 then....

For not being given the gift of being a great looking guy. Learning that doors don’t open just because I was standing in front of them. I had to knock. I had to use my wits to get what I needed, and it made me earn my way.

For not getting a loan co-signed to pay for my 1st car ( a truck ). So I didn’t get that car ( a truck ). I got a bicycle. And I rode the wheels off of it. And when I did get my truck, I took care of it like it was a girlfriend. I appreciated what she could do for me, and I showed her love.

For my girl, now my wife, saying no to me when I asked her out. I was determined to make her mine and I never gave up. And I never quit asking. I wore her out, and 40 years later, she is still tired of me.

For having to raise my kids with very little help. And by that I mean not with the help of babysitters because I am boring and don’t go out very often. So we bonded in a way that made us friends as well as family. I taught them bad songs, bad jokes, and bad language. And it was all in good fun.

For not being able to go to college because I had no money. So I had to go to work. I went to a motorcycle shop, because a friend told me “ they’ll hire anybody “, and 10 years later I was the manager of the dealership, without ever getting a M/C license. Hell, I never even knew anyone that owned a motorcycle prior to that job.

For not being the best at art. I have the ability to draw things that I see. But, I was always told someone was better, or why don’t you do this or that. Then i learned, I am the artist. It is my paper. I own it. And so I was determined to show that I was good. Good enough. And I found out I am.

For my coaching, which I never felt I was really good at. But, I feel like I was really good at reading people. At figuring out what moved them. At helping them get better mentally as well as physically. That showing them my weak sides made them see that it was okay to have small setbacks. The goals are long term. To see the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel. To realize that dreams can come true.

For a family that kept me grounded. We never had “things”, but we had enough. We never got what we wanted, but we never wanted because we had everything. I learned early on that a bowl of bean soup at the table with about 10 friends and your mom could beat out any club. That a picnic table in the backyard or the side lot under a tree, could attract more people than any concert or black Friday giveaway. That a dad that can fix a washing machine or a water heater is a lot better than a dad that can buy you one. That a mom that laughs so loud with her sisters at your Mammaws, is sweeter than any dessert. That sisters are there when you almost die, and when you live your greatest moments.

So, yes I am grateful.

Grateful for everything I have been given, because by not giving me everything, they all have given me everything I am.

[ur-stepdad]

the butchest woman i knew when i was a kid was my Aunt Hazel. she was my great-aunt, the sister of my mom's dad.

whenever i bring up Aunt Hazel to my mom, she always feels the need to say that she wasn't a lesbian, she liked men, and she wore very feminine pajamas when she was at home. she died a few years ago, so i have no way of knowing how Aunt Hazel saw herself or the way she wanted to be seen by others.

i only ever knew Aunt Hazel as a tough old broad. she spoke loudly and took up space. i remember her as she was in her 60s - heavy, short gray hair, big glasses, always wearing men's clothes. she said "goddamn" a lot, and i'm realizing now that that's a term used much more often by men than women where i'm from.

she was a greeter at walmart when i was a little kid, but i knew that she used to be a tow truck driver. i asked my mom what decade Aunt Hazel started driving her truck. she said that she was doing it by the early '80s and worked that job for a long time, but walmart had better benefits. i always thought it was awesome that my aunt was a tow truck driver.

something that i did not know about my Aunt Hazel until I was older was that she had been married to a man who abused her when my mom was a kid. for some years in the late '60s to maybe mid '70s, Aunt Hazel was in prison for killing her husband.

my mom says Aunt Hazel didn't always wear men's clothes, and probably started when she was driving the tow truck. i realize now that this means that she started wearing men's clothes after she was no longer married to her husband, and after she had been incarcerated.

i'm pretty sure that she was let out early because it was eventually determined by the court that she had killed him in self defense. she got her kids back, but i assume she didn't regain full legal freedom with her record. i would imagine that as a convicted felon, a male-dominated blue collar job was one of the only places that would hire her. or maybe she took the job because it's what she wanted to do. i can't ask her now.

i'm glad that Aunt Hazel was in my life and i've been thinking about her on this Butch Appreciation Day.

i'm also thinking about all the other butches who are tough old broads, who have survived domestic violence, who work blue collar jobs, and who are or have been incarcerated. i'm also thinking of the butches we've lost to domestic violence and incarceration. the butches who never returned from women's prisons, men's prisons, and psychiatric institutions.