#river&jolene

[nikoisme]

I love the idea of them being Jolene and Delilah, because these names immediately remind me of the two songs called exactly like that XD (btw, I recommend checking out Reinaeiry's cover "Jolene but it's gay")

Although I like the idea of them having some more traditional Slavic names too! I'm sure any names you'd pick for them would be wonderful)))

Hehehee yup! I had exactly that cover in mind >:)) you can kind of see some inspiration drawn from it (auburn hair). And yeah I based the river wife off of Hey There Delilah!! Really simple lovey songs because they are very much in love <3

[ennysimmer]

Zoe was adopted by Jolene and Eden Rivers, back in rotation 6. Jane is of course the youngest daughter of Jack and Julia.

Zoe and Jane met each other for the first time in school and didn't get along at first, but as time went on they became good friends.

[hibiscusbabyboy]

(Divider by @drifting-moon )

[lohstandfound]

have i ever mentioned my mafia play before

im thinking about it again

[maryjanewatsonparkers]

Jolene watched him from afar. It was interesting to see him in his element. Jolene nearly forgot that he was the same man she had fucked at not only that Hollywood party last night but in his trailer a few hours ago. He just seemed so professional and so serious. Her smile grew wider when River finally started approaching her. Nodding her head, trying to keep her excitement at bay when he told her to follow him to her trailer, Jolene did as she was told. She visibly shivered like some touch starved idiot when his fingers brushed against her arm. As soon as she stepped inside his trailer, River was locking the door and pushing her against the wall. The blonde groaned in response. It wasn't long until she recovered from the shock, Jolene wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her. She kissed him back eagerly, desperate to continue what they had done hours ago at his trailer. His words made her grin, but before she could say anything, River's tongue was slipping into her mouth. Jolene moaned, her hips rutting into his as she felt herself starting to get aroused. When she finally pulled away, Jolene grinned. "Did it get you all hot and bothered?" she asked in a teasing manner. Jolene knew where this was going and she had no qualms about it. She was eager. Pushing him back a little, Jolene grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled her shirt over her head. Now in her bra, she tossed it to the side. "Fuck me," she encouraged him, using her index finger as a come hither motion. Jolene wanted him and she was going to make it know she wanted him just as he was making it known exactly what they were going to do. As she waited for him to approach her, Jolene started to unbutton her jeans, her bottom lip between her teeth as excitement shot throughout her body.

Days of filming sometimes felt like weeks rolled into twenty-four hours, while other times, it felt like River never had enough time to do everything he wanted. With some setbacks that day, given the fact that he replaced a whole actress so last minute, there were still a lot that River didn’t get to. But it wasn’t a complete loss of a day at least. Still, it meant that he tended to stay late on set to try and fit in as much as possible before having to end the night. This was something that his fiancee knew very well, so when he said he still had to stay on set, she never had any questions. She was used to it and often times, even expected it. That, however, did make certain things easier. Meaning, he could see Jolene afterwards without having to worry about coming up with excuses to stay afterwards. Not that River ever really “worried” about such things. Talking to the lead set designer about some small modifications he needed to have done before the next day’s shoot, he caught Jolene from the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat and patted the designer on the shoulder. “Yeah, so if we can get that all ready by tomorrow. We should be filming that scene around the afternoon. I’ll have one of my assistants hand you the time sheets. Thanks.” He excused himself and immediately walked over to Jolene. There were hardly anyone else on set, so he wasn’t really concerned about any looks they’d receive. “Hey, come to my trailer,” he told her as he approached the blonde, his finger tips gently brushing against her arm as he led her over to his trailer. When she stepped inside, he closed and locked the door behind her before he pushed her up against it and attacked her lips with his. “You were perfect out there,” he muttered in between kisses, his tongue pressing against her lips until it explored the inside of mouth, not allowing Jolene a chance to say anything in response. He’d been envisioning his hands and mouth all over her since the second they wrapped for the day.

[obsessedwithlarkin]

CLUB DANCE COMPANY TEAMS 2024/2025

SUPERSTARS:

Kailey Miller, Hazel Jenkins , Remy Schwalb, Parker Banks, Delaney Poulson, Kristen Morales, Sunny Cunnigham, Daisy Nielsen, Kennedy Elliott, Kenley Rodriguez, Blaire Atchley, Harper Scates, Skye Parkinson, Avery Palacios, Peyton De La Cerda, Paisley Self, , Leo Robbins, Zadie Evans, Peyton Marble, Dolly Putton, Jolene Serna, Eastyn Vose, Blakely Paul

ROCKSTARS:

Harper Rosenbaugh, Lola Forrest, Claire Sandall, Goldie Nielsen, Abbey Scott, Penelope Ortiz, Hazel Silverman, Lily Knopps, Paislee Perkins, Emersyn Varker, Faye Cunnigham, Riley Bagnoli, Olivia Serna, Reagan Tannehill, Allie Kleve, Kinley Palmer, Ava Palmer, Hadley Taylor ( from September), Kinley Martz, Kinsley Camp

MINI COMPANY:

Kensington Ferrin, Addison Pichette, Cara Hart, Presley Ortiz,Kinsley Jackman, Emerson Van Houten, Kate Valentine,Bryn Spears, Emma Kleve, River Robbins, Zoe Zwick, Scarlett Robinson, Kennedy Besch, Taeya Ivory, Mariah Bland, Aspen Brandt, Kyle Young, Jolie Harris, Remy Blaise, Karsyn Brewer

JR COMPANY:

Sylvie Win Szyndlar, Navy Forrest, Finley Nielsen, Kinley Harper, Caitlyn Mackenzie, Harper Scwhalb, Shale Herrera, Nixie Vance, Bella Linman, Libby Jhonson, Maddie Downs, Kennedy Marble, Tatum Self, Nicola Fleming, Cambrie O' Haver, Landrie Kuhni, Kaia Erby, Zoe Philadiapht,

TEEN COMPANY:

Ellary Day Szyndlar, Elsie Sandall, Hadlie Scott, Harper Peterson, Kendyl Miller, Mikayla Isler, Alexis Alvarez, Ellie Self, Emma Scott, Brooklyn Besch, Mikayla Jackman, Lucia Piedrahita, Isla Gardner

THERE'S PROBABLY MORE I CAN'T THINK OF SO WRITE THEM DOWN IN THE COMMENTS!

[pupsmailbox]

COWBOY ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abeline. adeline. alfred. anderson. annie. archer. arthur. ash. aspen. austin. automata. axel. barett. beau. beckett. belle. bennett. betty. billy. blaise. boone. bree. brooks. bryce. cade. caleb. callen. callie. calvin. carson. casey. cassidy. chance. chase. clayton. clementine. clint. clyde. cody. colby. cole. colt. colton. connor. coraline. county. cree. cyrus. dagger. dakota. dallas. dalton. damon. darby. darla. delta. denver. dove. east. easton. edgar. eliza. elliot. ellis. emmett. emmylou. everett. everly. fallon. fang. farmer. fletcher. flint. flynn. fritz. gage. georgia. georgina. grant. graves. hank. harrison. harvey. hattie. hawk. hayes. heidi. holster. hudson. hunter. ida. jace. jack. jackie. jackson. james. jed. jesse. jessie. john. jolene. josh. joshua. jude. knox. leroy. lewis. loretta. lucille. luke. luther. lyle. maple. marshall. mason. maverick. meadow. millie. misty. myra. nash. nell. nina. oakley. oscar. otis. owen. pace. pamela. penelope. phoenix. pierce. pollyanna. prairie. quinn. ray. reed. reid. rhett. rhys. riley. river. rochelle. rory. roscoe. rosie. rudy. ryder. rye. sadie. savannah. sawyer. scarlett. sedona. selena. shep. shepherd. sienna. sierra. silas. skye. spanner. sparky. sterling. stevie. stormy sullivan. sundance. tallulah. tate. tess. todd. tucker. twila twyla. verily. wade. walker. walt. walter. waylon. wayne. weston. wilde. will. willa. willow. winona. wren. wyatt. zachariah. zane. zeke. zinnia.

PRONOUNS ⌇　ace/ace. aim/aim. badge/badge. bandana/bandana. barrel/barrel. boot/boot. boy/boy. brash/brash. buck/buck. bull/bullet. cattle/cattle. clad/clad. clash/clash. colt/colt. cow/boy. cow/cow. cowboy/cowboy. cy/cyborg. denim/denim. dirt/dirt. dive/dive. drive/drive. fang/fang. farmer/farmer. fence/fence. fire/fire. foal/foal. gold/golden. gra/grass. gun/gun. hat/hat. herd/herd. hill/hill. hit/hit. hold/holdem. holdem/holdem. hoof/hoof. horse/horse. iron/iron. jack/jack. jump/jump. kick/kick. lasso/lasso. law/law. lawful/lawful. lone/lone. mech/mecha. metal/metal. mount/mountain. mustang/mustang. noon/noon. officer/officer. out/out. outlaw/outlaw. poker/poker. protect/protect. pry/pry. punch/punch. punish/punish. ranch/ranch. ranger/ranger. rev/rev. rev/revolver. rev/rev. revolvers/revolver. river/river. ro/ro. robo/robo. rug/rugged. run/run. rust/rust. ry/ry. save/save. sharp/sharp. sheriff/sheriff. shoot/shoot. shot/shot. shot/shotgun. shout/shout. spark/spark. spur/spur. star/star. steed/steed. steel/steel. sun/sun. thief/thief. tumble/tumble. weed/weed. wheat/wheat. wood/wood. yee/haw. yeehaw/yeehaw.

[paradox-valleyy]

Lost and Found

Pre-Canon rdr 2 x Teen!fem!oc

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Word count: 3,5 k

Notes: Next Chapter the gang will start getting more involved I promise 🙏

Jolene awoke with a jolt, someone’s boot nudging her leg repeatedly. She scrambled to sit up, her heart pounding from the sudden disturbance. Squinting up through sleep-heavy eyes, she recognized the scowling face of the Sheriff looming above her.

“This ain’t a bed, boy,” the Sheriff grumbled. “You’d best find yourself somewhere to sleep where you’re not botherin’ honest folks.”

Jolene bit back a retort, knowing better than to mouth off while the Sheriff was still in a mood from the night before. Instead, she sighed and picked herself up, brushing the dust from her clothes. Without another word, she turned and trudged out of the alley, her stomach growling softly. Morning sunlight barely stretched across the street, and Jolene guessed it was still close to five in the morning. Too early even for the shopkeepers to start setting up.

With her thoughts drifting back to yesterday, she found herself absently fingering the coins in her pocket, feeling the remnants of the previous night’s meal warming her. It had been good to go to sleep feeling full, and for once, she had enough coin to make that feeling last a bit longer. She stifled a yawn and decided to head out toward the river. A quick wash would do her good, and the early hour meant she’d have some privacy.

The walk took her out past the town’s edge and along the riverbank, her worn boots leaving faint prints in the morning dew on the path. She followed the water until she reached her favorite secluded spot, where she could clean herself up away from prying eyes. Glancing around to make sure she was alone, Jolene stripped off her shirt and pants, exposing her feminine teenage figure, and setting them on the bank beside her boots. Only her necklace stayed on—a long, thin chain with a golden ring hanging from it. She always kept it hidden under her shirt, the one thing she’d never part with.

Wading into the cool water, she shivered as she scrubbed away the dirt from her arms and neck, then dunked her head, fingers scrubbing her scalp with determination. Days on the road and nights on the ground left her feeling grimy, and though the river water wasn’t exactly soap, it would at least rinse some of the dust away. Her fingers brushed the bruise on her jaw, still tender from the chubby man’s punch last night. She sucked in a sharp breath at the pain, her face darkening at the memory. But the water was cold, numbing the ache as she washed the dirt from her skin.

After a few minutes, she stepped out, water dripping from her lanky frame. She tugged her clothes back on, wet fabric sticking to her uncomfortably. The necklace glinted briefly as she tucked it back under her shirt, and she rubbed the ring absentmindedly before pulling her collar up over it. Feeling a bit refreshed, she started her walk back into town, taking the long way through the forest.

As she strolled, Jolene picked up a smooth stone and began flipping it in her hand. Her thoughts wandered to Dutch and Hosea, the strangers from last night. She wondered what sort of life they lived, drifting from town to town. They intrigued her, those men—confident, daring, unbothered by the rules she always found herself breaking. She felt a twinge of envy and wondered what it might be like to live that way, with nothing to lose.

The crunch of hooves on the forest path pulled her out of her thoughts. Glancing up, she saw two men on horseback approaching. They were deep in conversation, one of them speaking in low, annoyed tones. Jolene slowed her steps, curious.

“This ain’t how it works, you gotta stay, help her,” the larger man was saying, his voice gruff but steady.

The other man, younger with dark hair and an irritable expression, glared back. “Just keep to your own business,” he snapped, his tone sharp.

Jolene kept her head down, not wanting to draw too much attention, but as they passed, the larger man dipped his hat and muttered, “Good morning.”

Startled, Jolene gave a quick nod. “Mornin’,” she replied quietly, watching as they continued on, their voices fading as they disappeared down the trail. She wondered briefly who the “her” was they were talking about, but her curiosity quickly waned. In this town, everyone had secrets, and some things were better left unknown.

As she made her way back, Jolene debated what to do with her day. If she lingered in the forest, she could avoid trouble with the Sheriff. Sometimes she spent hours out here, crouching by the water, watching for fish, or tried carving small animals from wood scraps she picked up along the riverbank. The solitude wasn’t so bad—sometimes she even welcomed it.

A sudden rustle in the bushes made her freeze. She crouched instinctively, watching as a fox darted out onto the path, its bushy tail flicking behind it. It paused, eyeing her with as much curiosity as she felt, before bounding off into the trees. Jolene exhaled, feeling a strange peace in that brief encounter. It reminded her of how she felt last night, sitting across from Dutch and Hosea, eating warm food and feeling… almost seen.

Eventually, as the sun rose higher, she made her way back toward the edge of town, deciding she’d risk the streets a bit longer. It was quiet enough at this hour; most folks would still be at breakfast. Jolene wandered down an empty road, fingers tracing the coins in her pocket, as she kept her eyes peeled for any signs of trouble—or opportunity.

Jolene made her way to Johnson’s shop, already savoring the chance to pester the calm, steady shopkeeper. Johnson never raised his voice, not even when he caught Jolene slipping a piece of candy into her pocket or trying to haggle for half the price. The man had an endless well of patience, which only made Jolene want to test him all the more.

As she strolled into the shop, Jolene caught sight of the two men from before, standing by a shelf in quiet conversation. The taller one, the man with the black hat, glanced at her briefly, giving Jolene a small nod of acknowledgement before turning back to whatever he was inspecting on the shelf. Jolene nodded back, moving on toward the counter, where she leaned forward, her hands braced on the smooth wood as she peered over its edge, hoping for something new or interesting to catch her eye.

After a moment, she heard the familiar footsteps approaching. Johnson appeared from the back room, an eyebrow raised at seeing Jolene yet again. “What do you want now, kid?” he sighed, though a small, reluctant smile hinted at his amusement.

“Just checkin’ in,” Jolene said, grinning. “How you doin’ today, Mr. Johnson?”

Johnson shook his head with a long-suffering sigh. “If you’re that bored, why don’t you go on and bother the folks over at the church? I’m sure the sisters’d be happy to fill your head with a sermon or two.”

Jolene groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. “They’re no fun. All they ever talk about is God and what’s proper and how ‘the good Lord is always watching.’” She slouched against the counter, hoping she might at least drag out a few more minutes of conversation. “Not my style.”

Johnson gave her a gentle shove toward the door, still chuckling. “Well, I’m too tired to be dealin’ with you right now, and unlike some folks, I actually got customers who pay.” He gestured toward the two men by the shelf, and Jolene, feigning offense, put a hand to her chest.

“Fine, fine, I’m goin’,” she muttered, putting on a show of reluctantly dragging her feet as she shuffled to the door. She could feel the eyes of the two strangers on her back as she left, their gaze lingering as though she were worth more than a passing glance. It sent a slight shiver down her spine, though she couldn’t say why.

Out on the street again, Jolene squinted up at the rising sun, considering her options. Johnson had been half-joking about the church, but the idea of a free meal and maybe a sip of wine to warm her belly made her mind up for her. Bread and wine, she thought, chuckling to herself as she crossed the street. She didn’t like the taste of the wine, really, but it made her feel grown up, in a way, and that was enough for now.

As she walked toward the little church on the edge of town, Jolene thought about God—or rather, about how she wasn’t sure she believed in Him, or any of it. Still, there was something about the place, the quiet hum of hymns, the light filtering through the dusty windows, that felt safe. And right now, that was all she needed.

Jolene pushed open the heavy church doors, letting the quiet hush of the sanctuary settle around her. Morning sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting patches of vibrant colors onto the wooden pews and stone floor. She looked around, taking in the rare peace, and saw Sister Amelia emerging from a back room. She had a kind face, framed by a white wimple, her expression softening as she spotted Jolene.

“Joel,” she greeted warmly, stepping closer. She ruffled her hair, eyeing her with an amused but gentle concern. “You don’t come by too often, do you? How are you doing, child?”

Jolene gave a small shrug, not quite meeting her eyes. “Been better,” she muttered, rubbing a hand over her bruised jaw absentmindedly.

Her brow furrowed as she leaned in to get a closer look at the purpled skin. “Looks like you’ve had a rough time,” she said, sighing. “Come on, say a prayer or two. The Lord listens, even when you don’t think He does.”

Jolene knew what this meant—a quick prayer, and she’d get some bread for her trouble. She nodded, heading toward the altar and dropping to her knees, muttering the only prayer she could remember. Satisfied, Sister Amelia watched her, a small smile tugging at her lips.

When she finished, she slumped back onto the pew, stretching out her legs a little. Sister Amelia gave a nod, pleased, then looked at her with a glimmer of encouragement.

“How about you step into the confessional while you’re here?” she offered, gesturing toward the wooden booth.

Jolene stiffened. “I, uh…don’t think I got much to say.”

But at that moment, Reverend Thomas appeared from the hallway, giving Jolene a warm, expectant look. “It never hurts, Joel,” he said, his voice gentle. “If you’re here, might as well. Come on now.”

With a reluctant sigh, Jolene trudged over and stepped into the confessional, the wooden seat creaking as she sat down. The small, cramped space was shadowed, with only the thin screen separating her from Reverend Thomas.

Jolene cleared his throat, feeling awkward. “Uh…bless me, Father, for I reckon I’ve sinned.”

The reverend’s voice was calm, inviting. “Go on, Joel.”

Jolene took a shaky breath, then the words tumbled out. “I steal a lot. I take from people ‘cause I don’t got anything. I lie all the time, too. Just…tryin’ to survive, y’know?”

There was a moment’s silence, then the reverend spoke. “And you feel like there’s no other way?”

Jolene’s voice was barely a whisper. “Ain’t nobody out there helpin’ me, Father. Gotta do it all on my own.”

The reverend’s voice softened. “Remember, child, even in the darkest times, the Lord is watching over you. He understands your struggles, and there’s always a chance to choose a better path.”

Jolene wasn’t entirely sure she believed that, but she nodded anyway, feeling oddly lighter for having said the words. She shuffled out of the confessional, where Sister Amelia waited with a small piece of bread. She took it eagerly, not bothering to ask for the wine she usually hoped for. The bread alone was a treat enough.

She sat in the back row, chewing the bread slowly as she gazed up at the colored light filtering through the stained glass, studying the way it painted the floor in patches of blue, red, and green.

A moment later, Sister Amelia walked over and sat down beside her, watching her with a gentle smile. “Something on your mind, Joel?”

Jolene shrugged. “Just lookin’ at the light, I guess. Pretty colors.”

They sat in a companionable silence, and then she said softly, “I need to fetch something from the ranch. Would you like to walk with me?”

Jolene’s eyes lit up at the thought of getting to look at the livestock. “Yeah, sure,” she said eagerly, stuffing the last of the bread into her mouth as they stood.

They walked side by side, the morning air fresh and the town just beginning to stir behind them. Jolene started talking, telling Sister Amelia with enthusiasm how she managed to evade people when they chased her, darting into alleyways, scaling fences, and slipping away into shadows before they could catch her. She enjoyed recounting it, her voice quick and animated as she described near-misses and the thrill of outsmarting grown-ups.

Sister Amelia listened patiently, smiling but also frowning slightly. “Quite the little escape artist, aren’t you?” she said, her tone amused but tinged with concern. “But Joel, you shouldn’t have to live like this. It’s no life for a child.”

She shrugged, trying to brush it off, but the Sisters words gave her pause. She looked at Jolene with a sad smile. “I’m sorry you’ve had to face so much hardship, child. No one should have to grow up alone.”

Jolene nodded, but said nothing.

She reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “God has His plans, Joel. Sometimes life feels unfair, but remember, everything has its purpose. One day, all the challenges you’ve faced will lead you somewhere. You have to trust in that.”

She didn’t fully understand or belive that, but something in her words felt reassuring. They walked in silence for a while, Sister Amelia’s presence a steady comfort as they strolled through the quiet woods.

After two long hours of walking, they finally reached the small ranch on the other side of the forest. Jolene’s legs ached, but the sight of the sprawling fields, livestock, and warm sunlight brushing the landscape made her forget the stiffness in her limbs. Sister Amelia moved toward the ranch house, her long skirts swishing with each step, while Jolene lingered behind, her gaze roving over the faintly familiar surroundings.

She thought briefly about telling the sister about Dutch and Hosea, but something held her back. It felt like a secret she should keep to herself for now, so she stayed silent, watching as sister Amelia made her way toward the rancher and his wife, exchanging quiet greetings and a few words.

Nearby, Jolene spotted a group of pigs rooting around in the dirt. Their snorts and grunts filled the air, and she couldn’t help but grin at their comical faces and muddy snouts. They smelled terrible, a thick, earthy stink that even the open air couldn’t quite carry away, but she didn’t mind. She leaned on the fence, enjoying their silly little dance as they rolled around and nosed each other, completely oblivious to her.

After a while, Jolene moved to another pen, where a large horse stood still as a man crouched near its hooves, carefully lifting one to check its shoe. The horse was a beautiful, sleek bay with a coat that shone like polished wood in the sunlight. Jolene felt a tug in her chest as she watched the animal shift and nicker softly, its big brown eyes calm and gentle. Horses had always fascinated her, but she’d never had the chance to ride one. There was something about them—their power, their quiet strength—that made them seem like creatures from a different world, untamed but loyal, wild but willing.

The man tending to the horse looked up and noticed Jolene watching. “Like horses, kid?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

Jolene nodded, almost shyly, not wanting to seem too eager. “Yeah. I…never got to ride one, though.”

The man chuckled, patting the horse’s neck affectionately. “They’re somethin’ else, that’s for sure. This here’s Daisy, strong as any horse I’ve known.” He gave Daisy a pat, and she nickered softly in response.

Jolene took a tentative step closer leaning against the fence, feeling a thrill in her chest as the horse’s massive head turned toward her. “She’s real pretty,” she murmured just loud enough.

The rancher smiled, nodding his encouragement. “Come here, give her a pat. Just be gentle.”

Jolene quickly jumped over the fence and jogged over letting her fingers brush against Daisy’s nose, and she felt the warmth of her skin, the velvety softness beneath her fingertips. She could hardly believe it. She nuzzled her hand, and she couldn’t help but grin, a quiet, rare moment of wonder lighting up her face.

“You’ve got a way with animals, don’t ya?” the rancher said, watching the gentle exchange.

Jolene shrugged, her eyes still on Daisy. “I guess.”

Just then, Sister Amelia returned, a loaf of fresh bread and a jug of milk laid in her basket. She looked over at Jolene with a soft smile, seeing her reach out to the horse, and for a moment, she didn’t interrupt, watching the quiet moment unfold.

“Joel,” she called gently after a moment. She looked over, reluctantly pulling her hand back from the horse.

“Got everything we need?” she asked, a bit sheepish as she met the sisters gaze.

“All set,” she said, and together they turned back toward the forest, the morning shadows now stretching toward afternoon. But as they walked, Jolene kept glancing back over her shoulder, her mind lingering on the horse and the feeling of its warm, gentle breath against her hand.

As they walked back through the forest, Sister Amelia glanced over at Jolene, noticing the way her eyes sparkled with a lingering excitement. “Did you like that horse?” she asked, her voice warm and inviting.

Jolene nodded, her smile wide. “Yeah, she was real pretty. I always wanted to ride a horse, but I never got the chance.”

Sister Amelia smiled knowingly. “You’re still young, Joel. There’s plenty of time ahead for you. One day, I’m sure you’ll have the chance to ride.”

Her heart lifted a little at her words, feeling a flicker of hope. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her voice gentle. “It’s important to dream, you know?”

“Dream?” she echoed, tilting her head slightly.

“Yes,” she said, looking thoughtfully ahead as they continued down the path. “What do you dream about? What do you wish for, beyond a warm bed and a full stomach?”

Jolene thought for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. She often wished for those basic things, for a place to call home and enough food to fill her belly. But something deeper tugged at her—a desire she couldn’t quite articulate. “I guess… I wish I had a family,” she admitted slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But that’s hard because I’m an orphan.”

Sister Amelia’s heart ached for her, but she smiled softly. “That’s understandable, Joel. Family is a precious thing. But what else? Something bigger, perhaps?”

She thought hard, her mind racing through fleeting images of her past—faces of people who had come and gone, the fleeting warmth of kindness, and the painful loneliness that sometimes enveloped her. “Maybe to fly?” she said unsure, but her voice gained a hint of excitement.

“Fly?” she asked, laughing lightly. “How do you mean?”

“Yeah,” she said, her enthusiasm building. “I just feel like birds are so free, especially the eagles. They can go so high, unbothered, just do whatever they want, go wherever they want.” She looked up at the sky, imagining the vast expanse above them, a world where worries and fears didn’t exist, where she could escape from the life she lived.

Sister Amelia chuckled at the innocence and honesty of her dream. “That’s a lovely thought, Joel. Flying does sound wonderful. The freedom of soaring through the sky, looking down at the world below. You’re right; eagles are magnificent creatures.”

“Yeah, they are!” she exclaimed, her excitement spilling over. “They can just glide and catch the wind. I wish I could do that.”

“Who knows?” Sister Amelia said thoughtfully, looking at her with encouragement. “Maybe one day you’ll find a way to make your dreams come true. You’re resourceful, and you have a good heart. That counts for a lot.”

Jolene felt a warmth spreading through her at the words. For the first time in a while, she felt seen and understood. “Thanks, Sister,” she said quietly, a small smile forming on her lips.

As they continued walking, the sun filtering through the leaves above, Jolene couldn’t shake the feeling of hope growing inside her. Perhaps one day she would indeed find a way to soar, to break free from the constraints of her life and reach for something greater. For now, she took comfort in the small moments, like sharing dreams with Sister Amelia under the dappled light of the forest.

[emptytcwn]

"sure. it's something ... but it's not the best defense method you could be using to protect yourself." it was clear to him that she was not like other women he tended to come across, she had an intriguing personality to say the least. her attitude caught him completely off guard. "no, i didn't play the hero for praise. i was just expecting a little more gratitude from you. ─── you know, sarcasm is actually a pretty good look on you." noah snorted at her comment before an amused chuckle escaped his lips. "that's cute. i'm gonna have to disagree, though. if anything, i think pulling my pants down would make your night a whole lot better."

"no, but it's something," her shoulders lift into an indifferent shrug before her eyes are rolling so far back into her head that she's almost surprised they don't get stuck. "i didn't seem all that sincere ... ? so you played hero for the praise? oh, thank you so much," now her tone was insincere. "i think i'd be disappointed when i pull your pants down, i'd rather not ruin my night."

[fatehbaz]

Recent Chicago peice reminded me of the way Chicago north suburbs use military bases to divide and segregate in a manner that similarly matches connects to colonial actions. You always compile interesting stuff thank you.

Thank you for the kindness and support. I'm gonna riff on this a little bit. I'm sorry, I don't mean to distract from what you specifically brought up here.

Yea, we can add federal military base sites to the list of significant "innovations" Chicago has made in race-based labor segregation in service of wealth extraction. (For anyone following along, the article/essay we're discussing explores racism and white anxiety in Chicago, the fear and "anticipation" of Black migration from the South during Reconstruction and the Great Migration, and how between 1880-ish and 1910-ish Chicago then became a center of surveillance and policing beliefs and practices in response to this racial anxiety, refined to such an extent that Chicago's police/surveillance practices were then "exported" and employed across the US and also in the colonial plantations of the Philippines under US military occupation. By Jolen Martinez, in 2024, "Plantation Anticipation: Apprehension in Chicago from Reconstruction America to the Plantocratic Philippines".)

So Chicago is a wealth funnel, right? The node. The center of transportation networks. Extracted wealth channeled by the Great Lakes/St. Lawrence River waterway, channeled by the Mississippi River corridor, channeled by the railroads acting as tendrils reaching out into westward into "the frontier". For the United States, Chicago was the gateway to "the West". Over the course of the past two centuries: Furs from trapped mammals in Canadian boreal forest shipped through the lakes to French benefactors, mined metals from the Iron Ranges shipped through the ports, timber from Minnesota shipped through the waterway, cattle from Texas rangeland shipped to massive Chicago meat processing facilities, corn products from the tallgrass prairie ecoregion shipped to Chicago. And people, too. People diminished. People seen as mere resources. People as labor. People shipped to Chicago to work the processing centers, the docks, the restauraunt dish-pits. And so Chicago becomes a hub of the Great Railroad Strike of 1877. And because Chicago was a hub of labor unions and Black migration, it also becomes a hub of policing.

Chicago achieves the pinnacle of its spectacular reputation with its image as a glistening modernist metropolis after the construction of the railroad networks. But even before the city itself was formally established, the wetlands where the Chicago River meets Lake Michigan were kinda located in this general region that acts as a sort of bridge for French wealth, being both near the inland terminus of the Great Lakes-St. Lawrence route while simultaneously also sitting near a sort of terminus of the Mississippi River route (uniting French Canadian fur trade and Ontario/Quebec settlement with French "Caribbean" plantations and settlement via New Orleans).

I think about how suburbanization, and its attendant racial segregation, is especially blatant in something I kinda think of as "the southern Great Lakes industrial corridor and its economically, ecologically, culturally similar satellites" (Cleveland, Columbus, Detroit, Grand Rapids, Indianapolis, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, St. Louis, Omaha, etc.). Some writing that I enjoy about this, which you might enjoy checking out if you haven't yet, is Phil Neel's work, particularly the book Hinterland (2018). Neel's book is largely about suburbs/suburbanization; the environmental construction of Midwestern cities as hubs of industrial extraction and racial segregation; and how these Chicago-esque traditions of designing physical space (whether it's residential, "rural", "urban", whatever) to best isolate/subdue people for extraction are now widespread and typical of US space in general. As another example, Neel discusses how the "revitalized urban core" of Seattle's utopian "infotech metropolis" of tech companies is actually dependent on the corridor extending southward towards and past Tacoma, "this logistics empire" of "warehouses, food processing facilities, container trucks, rail yards, and industrial parks" while "the poor have been priced out" and "can also be found staffing the airport and the rail yards [...], loading boxes in warehouses [...]." So that the power of such a major city does not end at the technical city limit boundary, but extends beyond into the "rural" hinterland. (You can see this when looking up an "urban megaregion map".) This is of course pretty obvious with the Great Lakes cities, if you consider all of the corn fields, the farms, the Rust Belt manufacturing sites, many of which use railroad and/or highway corridors to funnel that wealth ultimately to a place like Chicago. And Chicago, in many ways, was a sort of "pioneer" of these techniques of organizing space with racially-segregated labor compartmentalization.

So perhaps unsurprisingly, urban/neighborhood segregation is very ingrained/formalized in the Great Lakes cities. Chicago's Lake Michigan-based sibling Milwaukee is especially notorious (2018 research found Milwaukee had the most extreme Black-white segregation of any US city with a million or more people). Including banking, home-loan denial, insurance practices engineered specifically and efficiently to isolate/segregate/prey upon Black people (all kinds of academic research on on these practices). Redlining ("other side of the tracks"), especially 1930s-1940s, made use of the region's many railroad tracks as physical barriers and hostile environments.

And part of why I liked Martinez's take on it was that we can see more evidence that Chicago's techniques of organizing space/life did not just establish ways of being in the Midwest, but also established ways of being across the United States. And we can kinda see that this power is not just physical/material.

I think Chicago is interesting, especially in the time period of the research we're talking about (1880-1910), because this Gilded Age, Edwardian era, turn-of-the-century-opulence kinda moment is sort of singularly important for (European) empire-building. British imperial power being exercised in Southeast and South Asia. The Scramble for Africa. French Algeria. European power reaching outwards. But it also corresponds to United States empire-building both domestically and globally. 1889/1890: Wounded Knee and "the closing of the frontier", the West has been won, from sea to shining sea, now the US thinks it owns the continent or whatever. And the US didn't waste any time. Immediately, the US moves on to Cuba, to the Philippines, etc. And it's like, at first, to target Indigenous people and the Wild West, there are obvious physical/material reasons why Chicago (geographically, as a railroad and telegraph hub, as shipping hub, as the destination of Great Migration) is like a homebase or an epicenter for westward expansion and domestic empire-building. And with Martinez's writing, we can see Chicago is not geographically a convenient hub of colonization abroad in Central America or the Philippines (it's not close to those locations, the railroads of Chicago don't reach Manila, etc.). And yet in a very scary way Chicago still actually did function as a hub of empire-building across the globe due to Chicago's ideas, imaginaries, beliefs. Chicago's imagination itself. Chicago's racism, channeling the earlier racial hierarchy of the antebellum South, reached out across the planet. Chicago authority figures trained police and administrators from elsewhere. Chicago-style police data-collection and record-keeping inspired surveillance approaches across the United States. The ideologies, the "personality types", the filing cabinets, the "intelligence cards", were adopted elsewhere. What white Southerners believed and practiced in antebellum Louisiana, would carry over into Gilded Age Chicago, would influence twentieth century US domestic surveillance, and would then affect the rest of the planet. The beliefs, practices, the very emotions of white US residents could transform plantations in the Philippines. Disturbing.

[girl4music]

Never been one for “Happily ever after - The End.”

Always been one for hard work and a continuation.

But getting both together really doesn’t hurt because while it still might be a happy ending, it’s not the end. There’s more to come for them. More to happen. More challenges, more conflicts, more rocky road, more compromises and likely more sacrifices. Hard work.

Love is always hard work so I always go for the ships that represent hard work. Enduring through the drama and chaos together and coming out stronger because of it. It’s a constant retesting of their love. There is no such thing as “happily ever after”. It’s a fantasy. And even in a supernatural/fantasy storytelling, I still much prefer ships that represent the hard work. That walk through a storm and come out the other side dishevelled and stained but standing - and hand in hand. That’s far more romantic to me than any “happily ever after” ever will be because what it shows me is that their love is based on a constant devotion towards each other and not on any kind of reward that can be had in being with each other. That even if no happiness was possible for them, these two people will still stick by each other. That’s what love is. To still be around for them - totally devoted to them - even when there’s no happy end because if the happy end is all you’re there for, you’re not actually in love with them. You’re in love with an ideal of them. An ideal life with them. But that ideal life may never come to fruition. Yet, they’re still there by your side regardless.

Waverly and Nicole really go through a storm together and all the while they’re clinging to each other tightly shielding each other from the oncoming debree. They get to see the sun eventually and that’s great. But they know that that’s not what love’s all about at all. They know love is hard work and that it will always be. That’s what I’m here to watch. Not happily ever after because that’s not a real thing and I’m glad that it’s not because it’s not interesting. It doesn’t say anything about love other than that it’s an ideal to fantasize and obsess over. But the person you picture yourself in this ideal life with is right there with you now and you’ve got to decide what matters more.

That’s what WayHaught represents as a WLW ship.

Hard work with how their love keeps building and evolving through everything that they go through together - be it negative or positive - because what they’re devoted to is each other. Their love is not based on an ideal of what they could be or can get to. It’s there regardless whether they happily end or not. And all ships that represent this are worth shipping.

I mean just look at all my other OTPs. None of them represent idealism. All of them represent hard work. And none of them got a happy ending like WayHaught did. None of them end up happily married in the end. But then again - what WayHaught’s tying of the knot represents is not a representation of happily ever after. It’s a statement of commitment and compromise and equality. It’s a way of expressing and attesting to one another that the love they have for and devotion they have to each other will not make them ignore their responsibilities and obligations as Guardians to Purgatory and the Ghost River Triangle. As Waverly told Jolene. She can be a wife AND a hero and she will be and Nicole has to allow her the agency of being both. Likewise, Waverly has to allow Nicole the agency to take on the supernatural alone as the Angel’s Shield. They both have to put aside their worries and anxieties and fears of losing one another to allow this. And their vows to each other are a promising of that which is why I find their endgame so damn powerful. Because it represents trust and faith and respect and support and all the things a marital partnership should do but rarely ever is in TV art/entertainment sadly.

I cannot wait for ‘Vengeance’ to see for myself where the narratives for these 2 incredible individual female main characters leads from where they were left off because there is so much we do not know about them. What I would really want to see is how much they’re upholding their vows in their next adventure together. How much they’ve truly allowed each other all the agency of being both domestic AND heroic partners. ‘Cause vows are just words. I want to see the actions. I want to see the proof that they are truly as equals now and neither of them are being overbearing worrywarts because they truly know what each other are capable of and understand that their individual strength and power is necessary to fighting for the greater good.

That’s all I really want to see in this next adventure. The evidence that they’re truly equal forces in love and life and they don’t try step on each other’s toes because there’s nothing more unromantic to me than lovers that don’t let each other be all that they can be out of some nonsensical excuse of “protecting” them. And what you’re really doing when you subject someone to a “love story” of “Happily ever after - The End.” is you’re making them feel incapable and therefore, unworthy, of achieving an ideal of true love when an ideal of true love is not, never has been and never will be true love because hard work is the truth.

You know, I got into WayHaught long after everyone else did. After the hype of watching and shipping them died down. And I don’t regret that fact because I feel like I would have looked at them with negative preconceived notions if I was introduced to them at the same time as everyone else was. If I was watching them at the time they were a pop culture topic, I would have had my “they’re just a trend and nothing more” glasses on when watching their scenes together. So I’m quite happy that I discovered them when I did. At a time when virtually no one else was talking about them because everyone had moved on.

But now with the news of the return of them through the ‘Vengeance’ Tubi movie - I can join in the hype of shipping them and I will feel really authentic in doing so because I know that I do sincerely view them as a significant ship that teaches a real meaning of LOVE and it’s not just some pop culture fad everyone is obsessed with because it’s cool to obsess over them. There’s depth there. There’s substance. There’s truth. Because it always make me feel really odd when everyone seems to get it but I don’t and vice versa. But as I said - if you look at every single one of my OTPs or favourite ships - all of them are the same as far as what they represent as a ship. It’s hard work and constant devotion to each other because of hardship. It’s not any kind of idealistic version of what “love” is. It’s not happily ever after. It’s not whirlwind romances. It’s not even “true love” as a concept like in all those favoured childhood fairytale stories. It’s hard work. That’s what I choose to watch and ship and it’s what I always will if I even care about any TV love story at all.

[fancysilverfox]

Jasmine Jolene you're MY favourite gal actually

Dedicated to my dearest @river-of-wine, Jazzy's biggest fan✨

[ennysimmer]

At the start of the eighth rotation, Eden sadly died from a random event that I rolled. Eden wasn't a favorite sim of mine, but I really liked her and Jolene together.

Many, many years later, Jolene moved on from Eden's death and started dating Diane. They got married after a few years and Jolene changed her last name to Hale.

[nikoisme]

i'm naming the fisherwoman jolene and the river wife delilah and i'd like to see someone try and stop me. You can't

[dandylion240]

“Get out,” Eli shouted as Jolene threw open his bedroom door.

Rolling her eyes, Jolene stood in the middle of his room like she owned the place. “Aren’t you tired of writing all those sad, depressing songs yet?” 

“Some of the most beautiful love songs ever written came from sad songs,” Eli said, strumming a few chords on his guitar. 

“Maybe but you ain’t writing it,” Jolene ridiculed.

“You don’t know anything,” Eli mumbled, humming softly one of the songs he particularly liked. 

“You broke my heart when you went away,” Jolene read from the music sheet she picked up then tossed at Eli. “Boo hoo. Awan left me too but you don’t see me crying a river for him.”

[maryjanewatsonparkers]

pctcrparker​:

Things in the car went immediately tensed. Even when Jolene claimed that she was over what had just happened. River may be new to taking a relationship seriously, but he also wasn’t stupid not to read the room. He’d always been pretty self aware in the relationships he was in. The difference was, that he hadn’t taken any of those seriously. Not even his previous engagement. So it was never a matter of whether he was aware of when he’d fuck up. It was always just him not caring enough to fix it. That was not the case with Jolene. Guilt was already eating at him in the pit of his stomach when he saw the genuine hurt and disappointment in her eyes. But River was also a stubborn man, new to this thing. He was frustrated that he apologized and there really wasn’t anything he could do now. It wasn’t as if he could turn back time or anything. He wasn’t even sure if he’d make a different decision if he could. He’d never had to pick between his art and something else. “Well, I wasn’t really asking about what I wanna do. I was talking about you. Do you wanna come over or am I dropping you off at home?” he asked as he was slowly driving away. There was an awkward silence that filled the vehicle that River couldn’t stand. Which was odd because it wasn’t as if he were one to want to fill silence with small talk. If there was nothing to be said than it was better for nothing to be said, but he wanted Jolene to want to say something. He wanted her to break this awkward silence the way she always did. At this point, River would rather take her yelling at him than saying nothing at all. Was that what it was like to be in an actual relationship? “You’re not really over it, are you?” he finally said, breaking the silence himself. “Look, I can delay the production in London for a week or whatever so I can catch a show. if it means that much to you.”

Jolene felt hurt. The more she talked about River missing her play with him, the more it became evident that her play was only important to him because it was important to her. He didn’t view it as important because it was something she was involved it. Jolene knew that River was new to the whole relationship thing. At least the relationship that mattered and wasn’t curated by his PR team. Still, it hurt knowing that he didn’t think her play was important enough to him. “I don’t really care,” she said, looking out the window at an attempt to keep the tears at bay. Was it so hard for River to deem her play important to him as well? She understood there wasn’t millions of dollars riding on her play, but it was the first job she got that actually mattered and wasn’t some stereotypical role. It was a role that actually allowed her to show off her skills a capable actress, something his parents didn’t think she was. Before she could answer his question, River continued, making plans as if what she wanted was an obligation and that was the most painful part of the whole thing. She understood that filming was pushed back and he couldn’t just stop filming, Jolene understood that. It was the fact that he didn’t even think about her for a second to just shoot her a text that he couldn’t make it and now he was speaking about it like some kind of obligation. “You don’t get it at all do you?” she asked, finally looking at him with a hurt expression on her face. “I don’t care that you missed it. I do, but that isn’t the main issue,” she started, shaking her head and taking a deep breath to keep herself from crying. Maybe she was just never meant to surmount to what what River deemed important or noteworthy. “I get that when it comes to filming that you get wrapped up in your own little world, but I wanted to think that I could be a part of that, at least enough to get a two second text saying filming is going to extend,” she explained, feeling tears now stinging her eyes. “Maybe your parents are right. Maybe I’m just forever going to be a small time actress, not even going to make a blip on your radar.”