#shes havin fun travelling

[ribbononline]

Still trying to finish other things but in the meantime- updated design for my older May! She's an Ace Trainer

[direwombat]

i just remembered that an old monk pc of mine was for a campaign set in the forgotten realms and that she's actually from baldurs gate...she might be my first playthrough

[seventeenpins]

Can we perhaps have something where stepdad Joel makes reader squirt-😗

alskdfjal yes of course this is so perfect :))) thank u for the prompt 💕

practice makes perfect

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: follow-up to bad girl. your mom decides to go out one night, leaving you and your stepdad at home alone together. feeling hurt and petty in response to his wife's cheating, he has no qualms with fucking you in your mom's bedroom. you make a mess.

warnings: okay lets go, a lot of fucking (so much fucking), stepcest, infidelity, oral sex (mentioned), unsafe piv, SQUIRTING, dirty talk, fingering, daddy kink, age difference (reader is late 20s, joel is mid-40s), a bit of dom/sub vibes, multiple orgasms, creampie -- let me know if i missed anything?

a/n: i am so completely blown away by the response to my first stepdad!joel fic -- thank you all so much for the comments and reblogs and messages, i fuckin cherish them all. as always, pls feel free to reach out. i hope you enjoy this instalment!

for the first week after joel walked in on you, you were half convinced your entire experience with him had been a fever dream. you hadn't seen all that much of him on account of a big project he's been grumbling about, something about a delayed material delivery that pushed him closer to a deadline than he'd prefer. you were busy yourself, too, going out with friends and spending long hours on some of your freelance work.

there were moments, though, that you'd catch one another and there'd be a glint of something in his eye.

one night, you, your mom, and joel are all sat at the table for a family dinner. your mom has drained her wine glass twice already, and is reaching for the bottle again as she tells you both, "i'm afraid i can't stay for long tonight, i just got a text from vera. sounds like she's having a bad night and needs a friend."

joel makes a sound like a snort that he follows up with a cough. "poor vera," he says, "she's been havin' an awful rough time lately, hasn't she? it's like she's inconsolable every other day."

"yes," your mom says, "she has been going through so much."

joel stares at her for a moment and you almost expect him to challenge her on it, but then he lets out a breath and smiles.

"you're such a good friend, baby," he tells her and she grins before turning back to her glass of wine and taking a big gulp. joel fixes you with a knowing stare and smirks. you both know she's not going to vera's.

after she finishes picking at her plate, she announces that she needs to get ready and dips out of the room.

"so, vera, huh?" you ask and joel snorts.

"can't believe your momma forgot she made me follow that woman on instagram months ago. according to her recent posts, she's currently travelling through iceland."

you roll your eyes and laugh, "seriously?" you ask, and joel nods.

"you'd think she'd be a better liar by this point," you say, and joel smiles but winces a little too.

it's not a game. you know it's not a game. just because you're used to your mother's antics doesn't mean it isn't new to joel, and he's only known for certain for a week that she's been unfaithful to him and that's gotta hurt. despite whatever's going on between you two, you know joel's heart is aching.

you're pretty sure you've just poured salt in the wound.

"i'm sorry, joel," you say, suddenly embarrassed, "i didn't mean to- i don't know. i didn't mean to make fun of it. i know you're dealing with... a lot."

joel shrugs and relaxes, "ah, it's alright sweetheart. just something i need to deal with. but you've done nothing wrong."

"okay," you say, and it's only then that you realise how close you've been leaning towards one another. at the sound of your mother's heels on the stairs, joel clears his throat and the two of you put more distance between yourselves.

your mother's voice carries down the hallway. "will you two be alright without me? i know you haven't had a chance to spend much time together."

"i'm sure we'll manage." you say, and joel smirks.

"she's a real good girl," he says, "'m lovin these opportunities to get to know her better."

"i'm glad to hear it," your mom says, and smiles between the two of you as you do your best not to choke.

"ya look great, baby," joel says, eyebrows raised as he looks your mom up and down. "cute dress. that makeup's gonna get ruined with your face masks, though, huh?"

she blushes and waves him off, "you know i like to get all get dolled up for my girls night," she says, "i can wipe the makeup off later."

"i'm sure you will," he says, and though you can hear the edge to it, you don't think your mom can. he presses a kiss to her cheek.

"i might be home late," she tells you both, "don't wait up!"

"no worries, baby," joel says, "in fact, if vera's having such a hard time, maybe you should make it a sleepover"

your mom grins and it's dazzling and heartbreaking. it's moments like this that you can see exactly why so many men have fallen in love with her. "that's a great idea, honey," she says, "i think i'll do just that! i'll see you both in the morning."

with a swish of her hair, your mom has left through the front door. joel groans, folding forward and resting his head in his hands, letting out a low "fucking jesus" before he sits back and composes himself. he lets out a deep sigh and then turns to look at you and shakes his head, closing his eyes, resigned.

you're not sure what's appropriate. you nearly reach out to deliver a comforting pat to his hand, but change your mind at the last moment, instead batting your hand out like a cat's paw and then recoiling.

joel's eyes weren't, apparently, closed. he sees your indecisive gesture, frowns, and gives you a look, before laughing. "you're okay, sweetheart," he says, his voice still tinged with the rumble of laughter, "it's all a lot to deal with. but i'm managing. and guess what?"

"what?" you ask.

"we've got a whole night to ourselves. just the two of us."

"oh yeah?" you ask, and you suddenly feel hot all over. joel's staring at you with such a darkness in his eyes that you're certain you're already wet.

"'f that's something you'd like, that is." joel smiles and it's almost unexpected the way he checks in with you, that he still has the capacity to focus on your needs. in his position, you might just be out to take what you could get, wholly and selfishly.

he's so... considerate. fuck he turns you on.

"i've got an idea," you say, and you take him by the hand and lead him upstairs.

you can feel his body stiffen when you stand in the doorway to your mother's bedroom. "you want me to fuck you in here?" he asks, and you can't parse his tone.

you're worried that you've gone too far, that despite the filthy way he fucked you only a few days ago, you've hit a barrier you should never have crossed, but you nod. before you can ask is it too much? he's growling "yes" and dragging you into the room.

he pulls you into a kiss, frenzied and feral, his teeth biting at you, nipping at your lips and cheeks, laving kisses down your throat. before you know it, you're both fully naked, clothes littered all over the floor of the room and joel's teeth are gently biting down on one of your nipples as he rocks his hips against yours.

"are you gonna let me take care of you? gonna let daddy take care of you?" he asks, "use your words."

"yes, daddy," you tell him.

"ya know," he tells you, running a hand down your sternum and resting between your breasts, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing, "there have been a few times i've gotten home late these past few days, and when i walked past your bedroom door i could swear i heard the sweetest little moans."

you blush and look away from him.

"uh-uh," he says, tipping your chin up, making you look at him, "were you thinkin' bout me?"

you nod. "yes daddy" it's the truth, after all.

"good girl," he smiles, "thank you for being honest with me. now i already know you're a dirty girl, what with all your naughty videos. and i know you're a fuckin' slut the way you spread your legs so easily for me."

"yes daddy," you echo.

"but what i don't know," he says, and his voice is velvet and dangerous, his pupils blown with hunger, "is just how many surfaces in this room i can bend you over and fuck you till you're so cock drunk you can't speak."

your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops.

"i ain't even started with you, honey," he smiles, and he drops to his knees.

it's a fucking marathon.

he eats you out at the foot of your mothers bed till you're panting, his lips glistening with your slick and he makes you feel so good you're certain you're gonna die.

then, your positions are reversed, joel trying his best to plant his feet into the carpet so he doesn't melt off the bed altogether, while you kneel before him. he fucks up into your throat, delighting in every vibration your moans and swallows provide.

soon, you're pressed up against the dresser, your fingers gripping onto the drawer handles as he fucks into your pussy from behind.

then against the bookshelf. the closet doors. there's a moment where joel gets closer than he'd like to coming and he has you grab onto the floor lamp as he eats your pussy again on bended knee, only this time you're standing up and trying your best not to crumple onto him when he makes you come a fourth and a fifth time.

you're starting to get overstimulated. no, you are overstimulated, but it's in the most oddly delicious way. joel has you folded over the foot of your mom's bed, your knees on an ottoman, the rest of you pressed against the mattress, fists groping at sheets, holding on for dear life.

it's a good angle, hell, it's the perfect angle. not only does it feel incredible, it helps prop your ass up to a height that allows joel's huge cock to fuck you deeper without too much more effort, gripping your hips as he pounds into you. the best part, though, is that you're both at the perfect angle to see yourselves in the full length mirror.

"jesus christ, baby," joel is saying, "you see how deep i am? feel how deep i am? pussy's so tight around this cock. can almost feel myself in here," he says, and presses two fingers against your tummy.

you moan, using every ounce of strength you have left to keep your ass in the air and take joel's cock so nicely.

"it feels so good, daddy," you sob, "it's so big, making me come so many times. fuck, i can feel it building- it feels so good, you make me feel so good-"

"yes, baby," he growls, "let go for me, let me feel you come stretched so pretty 'round daddy's dick."

"fuck, daddy," you whine, because you realise it's a different sensation that's been building and even though you know what it is, you've never quite reached an orgasm like this before. "i'm gonna come, daddy! i'm gonna fuckin come-"

"shit, baby," he says as he starts to feel hot wet spurts of liquid splashing out of you, "oh fuck, you gonna wet my cock with your cum?"

you're screaming now, so fucked out and overstimulated

"oh, shit honey, yes-" joel shouts, a man possessed, as he pulls his cock out from you and rubs furiously at your clit, moaning loudly as you gush all over his hand. "oh, i'm gonna need more of that," he groans, and you can't find words to argue. he fucks back into you, hitting that same spot, finding that same pressure.

"could fuckin drink this, baby," he says, "comin' all over my cock like the fuckin whore you are. look at us, baby, look in the mirror and don't you dare close your fucking eyes."

you obey. it's a struggle to get your eyes to even focus, but when you do, you're sent over the edge again and again and again.

the two of you look so fucking good, the jiggle of your ass, the angles of your bodies and the way you slot together, the tan of joel's arms, his muscles, his control, the silver of his hair.

his breathless mantra "good girl, good girl, fuckin' take it, such a good girl-," as you take everything he gives you and more.

he finds a rhythm for fucking every last drop out of you. he'll give you a few harsh, deep thrusts and then pull out and rub your pussy till you aren't gushing around him anymore. then he'll slap your pussy with the head of his cock, making you shudder before he stuffs it back in and builds you up again.

your thighs are drenched and the wetness down your legs is cooling. you've lost count of the number of times he's made you come like this, but finally, you're shaking so hard you can't bear it and his thrusts are getting staggered.

he's breathless when he manages to ask, "you want me to fill up this lil pussy? fill it full of daddy's cum?"

"yes, yes, yeesss-" you beg, and you watch your reflection as joel's hips stutter a final time and he lets out a strangled groan as he loses control and fucks his release into you.

the second after he comes, he collapses onto you but you're so weak and fuck-drunk you collapse, too. joel rolls off of you so you can breathe, but then both of you are laughing. you're disgusting, covered in sweat and spit and squirt and cum, but joel dips a finger into your pussy and then licks up the combination of juices.

seeing your awed expression, joel shrugs and then smiles, a little embarrassed. "just needed to taste ya like this," he says, and it's incredibly endearing.

after a few more minutes of laying around in messy, sticky comfort, joel gets up. and then- "shit".

"what's wrong?" you ask as you look up at him and he's- laughing?

you look down at what he's looking at -- the ottoman. you've drenched it entirely. it's at least three shades darker than it was to begin with, and reeks of sex.

"well," you say, "that's not ideal."

"guess i'll have to buy your momma a new one," he says, rubbing against his temples and barking out a short laugh. then he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, and one to your forehead.

"you go have a shower," he tells you, "i'll take care of this mess, and then let's get some snacks," he winks, and you smile.

he starts to back out of the room when you call to him, "so, mom's gonna be gone all night-" you start to say, tentative.

"you already askin' for round two?" he asks, incredulous.

"if we're calling all of that-" you gesture around the room, "round one? then yeah. i'm asking for round two."

"dirty girl," he laughs, "you're fuckin insatiable!"

"that's not a no-" you point out.

"no, it's not a no," he says. "let's refuel. rehydrate. and get right back to it."

[s3niz3ro]

•Questions• -SUKUNA.R-

-MDNI-

NSFW-SUKUNA.R [COLLEGE AU]

!!CW!!-Mentions of wéed, drinking, dirty language, rough making out, hairpulling, biting, and fing3ring

• In which the infamous Sukuna Ryomen, known for his antics and house parties, takes it upon himself to ask you why you're at his party, simple reason that you are one of gojo's friends- which turns into more than simple question asking •

!!NSFW under the cut!!

straight to the point tbh bc its rushed hella bad🧎🏻‍♀️+not proofread+made this at 2 am half awake with a energy drink and brownies !!ageless blogs dni!!

Your head swings slightly as your dancing in the livingroom with music blasting, shoko dancing alongside you, cup in your hand, and the thought of even leaving nonexistent.

"Hey, shoko?" You yell over the music and the other people nearby which filled the large room. She opened her eyes and looks at you while she dances; wasted. "Yea Y/N?" You look around a few seconds before turning your gaze back at her. "I'ma go to the restroom, don't go anywhere okay?"

She simply gives a thumbs up as she continues dancing tapping suguru's shoulder before making him hold her drink. You walk and push thru the crowd and make your way upstairs. You see a group of people in the quieter portion of the house, obviously smoking weed.

Eventually you find the restroom, the small room was enveloped in the smell of colonge and weed. It was chaotic and slightly overwhelming. You look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair clothes and makeup.

Walking out you bump into a hard obsticle, unfortunately the back of sukuna, he seemed to be waiting for the restroom. He turns with annoyance flooded on his face.

"what'cha doin' in there doll? Infact" he pauses breathing in softly, the smell of your perfume seemed to catch his attention. "What's ya' name? Haven't seen ya' before." He tilts his head, a smirk imbedded in his face. The smell of his colonge flooded your senses, which ment he was the one in the restroom.

"Y/N" He smiles before repeating it. "Y/N" It came out almost like a purr from a tiger about take its meal. You advert your eyes feeling your face become hot. He lets out a low chuckle before eyeing you, making it obvious on purpose. "I gotta get back-"

"What's wrong dollface? Jus' asking for ya' name, such a shame you hang out with that Satoru. His words comeoff so soothing in the way that made you want him so bad. You knew what trouble he could bring and that he has brought. Especially to Satoru and the others.

His hand touches your hip ever-so-softly which made goosebumps travel your skin. "Let's go back in yea?" He opens the door again behind you and pulls you in slightly before closing and locking it. You felt your heart race, this wasn't a good thing, it was a bad idea. A terrible idea... right?

It was too late now, in just a few minutes you were on the counter, his hand up your shirt and his mouth on yours. His lips crashed yet once again, his hand on your jaw, the other unclipping your bra. Was this even the right thing? Too late now, you were enjoying this.

He pulls back biting your lip just hard enough to draw a dribble of blood before licking it up. "Wanna feel good dollface?" He huffs out onto your neck before licking it and kissing it. You let out a hum, too nervous to speak.

"Words pretty, c'mon you can." He smirks against your neck. "Yes please, Sukuna" He pulls back before taking off your shirt and bra throwing it on the floor and lifiting your skirt. His hand trailing between your thighs pulling teasingly at the lace as he speaks lowly. "Did you plan on havin' fun?" He teases watching your face turn red.

It was obvious you were both drunk- you more than him. The heat he caused made you feel warm against the cold sink marble counter, the pit in your stomach aching. Your arms holding onto his as his lips press against yours yet again.

His touch got rougher, his hands griping the plush of your thighs tightly, his kisses got deeper and rougher aswell. The sensation overwhelming you. His right hand moves away towards your hair and pulls it to get a deeper angle.

This goes on for a few minutes, you catch your breath in any way you can. His left hand rubs against your clothed cunt. Causing you to moan slightly. The tension was rough and the pit in your stomach was just aching to be relieved. "If you sound like this right now, can't wait to be ball's deep in ya' later." His words and touch alone felt like warm honey on you, igniting fire throughout your body.

You spread your legs slightly, eager for the relief you craved. He lets out a low chuckle. "So needy f'me ya'?" He pulls his hand away from your clothed cunt up to your mouth. "If ya' want it, suck 'em. To make it easier ya'?" His words cooed your body to him. Taking his fingers in your mouth sucking softly.

He pulls them our a few moments later, his smirk widening seeing the glistening saliva along his two large digits. He locks eyes with you. "Can't wait to see ya' unravel in a few moments" He licks his lips slightly before kissing you again, pulling down your panties in a swift motion and sliding along your cunt.

He kisses you deep and rough as he slides in a finger, soon adding the other. His fingers move with speed and talent. You were indeed coming undone in moments. His fingers were wrapped in the damp cushions of your cunt, the noise of his fingers and the slick building.

"I-ah- I think i shouldnt be here y-" you need to cagch you breath, the way his fingers curled in just the right place. "My friend s-ahgn-says that you're an asshole" He just chuckles in response. "He just wants to fuck'ya, hell I wouldnt last just bein' friends with you. Not with this pretty pussy." His hand slows down, before adding another finger. Speeding up once again, his eyes had a hint of desire in them. "Never had a girl squeeze me so damn tight. C'mon y'know you're enjoyin' this."

You give in clinging onto him, his free hand digging into the plush of your left thigh. You felt on the edge, you hadn't done this in so long- it felt heavenly to be specfifc. "Your face is so flushed and you're gettin' tighter. You're so close aren't ya?" He smirkswatching you look down at his hand go what seemed to be an inhuman speed- fuck it felt good.

"mh yea, 'm close- so close" Your hands find their way to his back holding onto him as you near your orgasm. He didn't hold back, instead spreading your legs and rubbing the plush of them. "Gonna make a mess on my counter?" He teases speeding up curling his finger deep. You nod letting out gasps and whimpers. He chuckles watching you come undone, your head going back, jaw slack, and eyes shut.

He keeps his pace spreading his fingers every now and then as you come. It felt so much pressure uncoil in your stomach. The fluid spilling out onto the counter, over his fingers, and dripping down on the floor. You let out soft curses and gasps. "Amazing, I wanna see you do it again. Clean up and wait for me in my room yea?" He taps your thigh pulling out his fingers showing you the slick and fluids that you had drenched his fingers.

You burn, embarrassed. You hadn't ever done that before. He gives you a smirk before washing his hands and throwing a towel onto your legs. Its the room with the metal traffic sign on it." With that he gives you one last glance eating you with his eyes.

"Bzzzt" Your phone which was on the counter next to you vibrated. And from it you saw the notification from Suguru.

"Shoko said you went to the restroom, you didnt sneak away with a rando right? remember you're our DD, text me when your back." The groupchat between you, Shoko, Gojo, ang Suguru. Shit- spent way too long, maybe it wouldnt be a bad idea to spend a few more minutes with him.

yes ik its rushed- badly to say the least, but im at my parents rn cleaning for the holiday... im too tired for this. And for the bakugo drabble or one shot series, ill update on that soon... once votes come in of course!!

[hunterthecharmer]

Unexpected - Part 3

Hope you all enjoy this next part. I am already writing part 4 and am happy to report that from here on out these will consist of much more Glen content. I just wanted to set up the story context first, so I appreciate your patience :)

“Well good morning, Mr. O’Brien!” You cheerfully greet him as he comes jogging down the stairs of his cabin. Dylan waves to you, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve his sunglasses, putting them on in one swift motion as he makes his way over to you to hop onto the golf cart. 

“Morning! I’m looking forward to today, this breakfast lecture should be good.”

You hand him his coffee from the cup holder, pleased with yourself for getting up in time to grab it for him. “Oh, you’re the best! I need this today. I’ve got a packed schedule!”

The two of you go over the day briefly before you arrive at the designated trailer he will be in for the next couple of hours. You spot Savannah and Glen across the lot, and shoot them a quick wave before reversing your golf cart and heading for the coffee stand on the other end of the venue. You didn’t want to risk getting two coffees this morning at the risk of being late to get Dylan. You check your phone for the time, and decide to ride over to the bigger trailer to get some breakfast. You text Savannah to meet you there.

 ----

“Do we have any overlaps today?” Savannah asks before shoving a muffin into her mouth. You scan your schedules. “Looks like Dylan and Glen have a workshop around 4, we could walk the trail while they’re there.” The two of you eat breakfast and chat amongst the other handlers, hearing some crazy stories about some of the talent already, making the two of you extra grateful to have been assigned to some of the chillest ones there.

The rest of the afternoon goes off without a hitch, and you are excited to stretch your legs and chat with Savannah. “Last event of the day before the ice cream mixer. Let’s do this!” Dylan gives you a high five before leaping off the golf cart and making his way down the hill to the trailer. Savannah and Glen pull up a few minutes after you, and you feel yourself blush as their cart comes to a stop next to yours. Glen shoots you a warm smile, “Hey! Havin’ fun?” You nod, waving him on to go inside as Savannah was getting him there a bit late. A playful smile creeps onto his face before he turns from you, running toward the door.

“Savannah! You can’t be late for these things. You’ll get him in trouble and even yourself.” You quietly scold her, playfully tapping her arm. She giggles, hiding her face as you both fall into step. The wind gently shakes the trees overhead, the two of you are the only ones on the trail. “How’s Dylan enjoying everything? Glen has been filling his journal with notes already! I think he’s really enjoying it.” You smile to yourself. “That’s good, I’m happy to hear that! Dylan seems to be having a good time too, I think he’s ready to let loose a little bit though.” 

Savannah nods as she listens to you. “Are you going to the mixer tonight? I’m kind of tired, I might just drop Glen off and go back to my cabin.” You turn to face her, confused. “Why won’t you go? I don’t want to go by myself!” You pout. Savannah giggles. “I think I’m just run down from traveling and the change in weather here versus LA. But I’ll go, don’t worry.”

The two of you do a few more laps to kill time before getting back on your carts to pick up the boys. You drive them both to the ice cream event, feeling a little surprised at the lack of people there. “Hm, I guess everyone’s turned in early tonight.” You state, watching as Dylan and Glen walk off toward the ice cream bar together. Savannah sighs loudly as she turns her body to lay down in the front of the cart. “Or the celebrities don’t eat ice cream at all. You know how they are with their diets.” She tries to force a laugh, but when she barely stifled a groan you turn to look over at her. “Are you alright?” 

“I’ll be fine..just need a minute. Can you make sure Glen has his room key on him?” she squeezes her eyes shut, placing a hand over her forehead. Your eyebrows raise in confusion. “Why wouldn’t he have it? Don’t you have a spare just in case?” Savannah rolls her eyes. “Can you just please go and ask him? I’m trying to be triple sure that he can get into his room tonight because I need to go lie down. I can’t promise I won’t get up by the time he’s ready to leave.” You rush around the golf cart to her, bending down to her level.

“Sav, I can always take him back to his cabin. It’s really no problem. Let me just let him know what’s going on and I’ll be right back.” You give her sympathetic smile before jogging towards Glen, who to your surprise is still talking with Dylan. “Hey guys! Sorry to interrupt but, Savannah isn’t feeling great so she’s going to go lay down. Glen, I’ll be here the whole time so whenever you’re ready to go I can drop you off. Dylan, same thing just let me know when you’re ready to leave and I’ll take you back. Is that okay?” Your eyes move between Glen and Dylan, waiting for their response. Dylan immediately nods, rubbing the back of his neck before taking another lick of his ice cream cone. “Of course, all good here!” 

Glen frowns, his eyes drifting to Savannah who is still lying sideways on the golf cart, her arms draped over her eyes. “Aw, I hate that she's not feeling well. Whatever we need to do, I’m good. I appreciate you letting me know.” Glen smiles at you, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it before he moves past you to order some ice cream. Relieved, you run back to Savannah and let her know all is well. She thanks you quietly before riding off toward her cabin. 

You look out at the talent chatting amongst each other, sprinkles and crumbs of oreo cookies all over the grass. You shake your head - you would hate to be the clean up crew after an event like this one. 

30 minutes pass, and still no text from Savannah. You’re starting to get a little sleepy, it’s already 8pm and you’ve had a busy day. Everyone is still chatting on the lawn, the strung up lights now lit and glowing above everyone. You eye the ice cream stand, not seeing anyone in line. “It’s now or never.” You mumble to yourself with a shrug as you hop out of the cart and head towards the stand. As you wait for your ice cream, you feel someone stroll up behind you.

“Finally taking advantage of the perks, huh?” You turn over your shoulder to see Glen smiling at you, hands in his pockets. You uncross your arms and step closer to him, fully aware of the huge grin that appears on your face upon seeing him. “I mean, I’ve never been able to say no to ice cream..” Your voice trails off as you allow yourself to get lost in his eyes. They’re a beautiful bluish green, and they’re sparkling at you beneath the lights. “We have that in common. You want to take a walk with me?” You feel your heart skip a beat as you grab your ice cream and start following his lead, nodding silently while walking next to him. You remain quiet as you dig your spoon into your dessert, waiting for him to continue the conversation. When he doesn’t say anything, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Is everything alright? Do you need me to-” Glen holds up a hand to you, shaking his head with a smile. “No, no. Everything’s great. Relax a little.” He leads you to join him on a nearby bench. You sit on the edge of it, turning to face him in confusion. “Sorry..” You look at the ground.

“I just want to talk to you. Where are you from?” He questions, leaning toward you. You fill him in on where you’re from, your apartment back home and a little about your family. You learn about Glen’s upbringing too, and he tells you about his family and gushes about his niece and nephew. It takes your best acting skills to remain unphased through the whole conversation, pretending like you had no idea he was from Austin, Texas, and that you didn’t know he looked to be an amazing uncle from his sister’s instagram page. The more information he shared, the more you begin to feel uneasy. You didn’t want to be unprofessional, and you dang sure couldn’t let on that you were a fan of his. So, you continued to listen, asking questions you already knew some of the answers to while devouring your cup of ice cream. 

“Are you going to be able to see your family anytime soon?” You finally ask after tossing your empty bowl into the nearby trash can. Glen begins to tell you how he and his entire family are going to spend Thanksgiving at his parents home in Texas with everyone, but he pauses when you turn back around to face him, his thumb reaching over to wipe a sprinkle off the corner of your mouth. You feel your breath hitch, body freezing under his touch. You both search each other’s face for a moment, the silence hanging in the cool night air.

“Thank you.” You whisper, wiping at the area with the back of your hand. Glen nods, catching the tip of his tongue between his teeth. “You know, you have the prettiest eyes.” You admit, immediately regretting it once the words leave your lips. Your eyes widen, cheeks flushed as Glen’s chest rumbles with a low chuckle. “Why thank you, I’m flattered. You know, you’re the prettiest one here tonight.” He shoots you a sincere smile, and you immediately stand to your feet. “Oh, um..thank you. That’s really..” You stutter, unable to meet his gaze. You take a breath and fiddle with your lanyard. “I should let you get back to the party. Just let me know when you’re ready to head in for the night!” You awkwardly wave to him as you turn on your heel in the grass, a confused Glen Powell still sitting on the bench. You make a beeline for your golf cart, exhaling deeply once you’re there. Did he just compliment you and say you were the prettiest one here? What?! You try to even out your breathing as you watch Glen float back into the middle of the crowd, and you’re relieved to have some distance between you. If only he knew the things you wish you could say. But this was not for him to know- you were working, you had to remain professional. You immediately try to call Savannah, but when she doesn’t pick up, you shoot her a voice memo telling her what happened. Not long after, you watch as Dylan approaches you through the darkness, a smirk playing on his face. “Are you ready to go?” You turn the key on the golf cart, and Dylan slides in next to you. “Yes please. Hey, I saw you chattin’ with Powell. What’s up with that? Is Savannah feeling any better?” You sigh, the breeze causing your hair to cascade behind you as you drive down the path to his cabin. “He was just chatting with me about his family, my family, that sort of thing.” You nonchalantly reply, watching Dylan nod, lips pursed in your peripheral. “As for Savannah, I haven’t heard from her so she must be sleeping.” 

You both make small talk before reaching his cabin, and Dylan fist bumps you before heading inside. 

You quickly drive back to the party, your stomach doing flips as you pull into a parking spot to see Glen waiting for you. “Glen! I hope you weren’t waiting too long. Hop in.” You pat the seat next to you, and Glen happily hops on. “I just walked up, you’re good. Seriously, you don’t have to be so…professional. It’s after hours, deal?”

You scoff at his words, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, I’m on the clock. The only after hours I have are when I’m in bed for the night. It’s my job to be professional. Deal?” You turn to face him, shooting him a playful wink. He reaches across you, placing a hand on the steering wheel and extending his left foot to hit the brakes. You both jolt forward, your body momentarily colliding with his. He’s warm, and you can smell his cologne. “Let me drive.” He grins like a little kid before scooting you out of your seat and motioning to the right of him with his head. You laugh as you run to the other side, welcoming the break from being ‘on’. He puts the cart in reverse and heads backwards toward the event trailers. “Glen?” You question him before he pats his free hand on your knee. “Shh, shh. I just want to ride around a little bit. It’s such a nice night out.” You wet your lips, hands twisting into your lap. You knew you could get in trouble for letting the talent drive this cart, but you honestly didn’t care. He was a grown man, he could drive a golf cart. Heck, he’s a pilot for crying out loud! You press your lips together to stifle a laugh at your inner thoughts. Glen hadn’t shared this fact yet, but as if he could read your mind he breaks the silence. “Don’t worry, I know we aren’t technically supposed to drive these things, but I promise if we get caught I will take full responsibility.” He looks over at you, eyes glancing from your eyes to your lips. You can’t believe this is happening right now. Your eyes drift from his face to your surroundings, your nerves relaxing to see that no one else is around. Your eyes land back on his, and you watch as the corners of his mouth turn up into a grin, his body scooting closer to yours. “Tell me something no one else knows about you.” You ask in a whisper, surprised at your bravery. He cocks his head to the side, his sandy blonde hair blowing in the breeze as he thinks on his answer. “I’d like to think I’m a pretty open book, but I can understand how people might find me a little mysterious.” He pauses, glancing back at you. “Would you agree with that statement?” He questions you, and you feel heat rise in your cheeks. “I’d say so. I really don’t know much about you, other than what you’ve shared tonight. I’ve seen you in a couple Netflix films, but..” you can feel your speech quicken, trying to hide your lies. You’ve never been a good liar, and you were grateful for the darkness hiding your expression. Glen listens, continuing, “I guess I’d say not a lot of people know how nervous I am, in nature. I probably come off confident but, I really can get in my own head. I step on set or any project for that matter, full of nerves. I have a whole routine for the night before big jobs that helps me refocus.” You study his face as he looks out over the pond in front of you. “That’s actually really endearing. Thank you for sharing that with me. Everybody gets nervous. It just means you care.” You feel his hand ghost overtop yours on the seat before it rests in his lap. His eyes find yours again, his voice low. “Thank you. I’ve really enjoyed talking with you tonight. It gets a little tiring talking with the same kinds of people all day.” You practically melt at his words, peering at him through your lashes. Every bone in your body wants to touch his face, to kiss his cheek. He was so handsome in this light, it was unfair. But instead, you fight the temptation by switching the cart back into reverse, the loud beeping breaking the moment. “It’s getting late, I don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.” You smile softly at him, and Glen nods in agreement as he whips the cart back toward the cabins. “Which one are you?”

He parks directly in front of your cabin, turning to hug you before sliding off the seat. “Glen, let me drop you off!” You call out to him. “No way, I told you I can walk back.” You huff at him, swinging your lanyard in front of his face. “I will literally lose my job if anything happens between now and then.” Glen laughs as he concedes, jumping onto the back of the cart. “Fine, take me back, driver. Celebrities, am I right? Such divas.” You giggle the entire short trip to his cabin. “I appreciate the sentiment, but thank you for letting me do my job.” You wink to him, watching as he bounds up the stairs to his front door. “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waves sleepily to you before disappearing into his room.

[archangeldyke-all]

Hello Angel!!!

Perhaps Cowboy Sev breaking older Vi and Jinx out of jail. After so many years Sev would be so rusty that she needs reader to help too. Go wild with the shenanigans they get up too. Could bring back Silco and the boys to help legally maybe. Hilarious if somehow Vi got in trouble trying to impress Caitlyn and somehow managed to get Jinx involved. Also funny if Sev and reader meet Caitlyn as Vi’a girlfriend during this break out HAHHAHA

Pls I’m obsessed with cowboy Sevika HELP ME

Thank youuuuu

this is SOOOOOO cute such a good idea i'm crying.

men and minors dni

ten years into marriage, fifteen years into your relationship, eight years with the girls, five with them legally yours, and sevika finally retires.

there was no need for her to work at the ranch in the first place. the amount of loot she'd stolen and stored in your inn (both in your room hidden beneath the floorboards and in the rafters, and buried beneath your side garden) was enough to take care of you for ten lifetimes to come. but, sevika was used to spending her day on shimmer's back, and she needed something to do with her free time once she gave up her life of crime.

but now, things have changed. sevika's ready to settle down and spend her days in the inn with you. the girls are growing up, vi being sixteen and powder being twelve-- they'll be living their own lives soon, and sevika wants to be around to keep you company as you transition into empty nesters.

shimmer died last winter. the four of you spent her last days cuddled up beside her in the stable, feeding her sugar cubes by the handful, saying your final goodbyes to sev's trusty mare. she rests behind the side garden now, marked by a big stone vi and jinx engraved.

old man ernie died too, leaving his ranch to his son. when he took over, he offered to let sev keep her job, but she declined. she was ready to retire.

she's been adjusting to retired life really well.

she loves working behind the bar in the evening, chatting with locals who stop in for a drink and swapping stories with some of your shadier guests in the in.

she's gotten really into reading-- especially smutty paperback romances.

when she gets restless cooped up in the inn, you send her out to ride the new foal-- a sweet young horse the girls decided to name teddybear.

it's been great having sev around all the time. especially for your sex lives.

speaking of your sex lives, you and sevika have been having a particularly fun week. the girls took teddybear out on a trip to a town two days ride south. they're meeting up with mylo and claggor there to catch the traveling circus. and it's summer time, which is always your slow season, and as of two days ago-- you've got no guests. you and sevika have been having a fucking blast, fucking on any and every flat surface you can find. your legs have been like jelly all week long.

it's been paradise.

"what're you smilin' at?" sevika mumbles from her side of the bed. you grin, turning on your side to stare at your sleepy wife. it's the crack of dawn, not even the rooster is awake yet. just you and the crickets, singing through the open windows.

"you're awake." you say. sevika smiles.

"i am indeed. c'mon, what's got you smilin' all pretty, darlin'?" she asks again, yawning to punctuate her question.

you scooch forward to kiss her nose, and sevika grins, her eyes scrunching closed.

"what i've been smilin' at for the past fifteen years, baby." you say. sevika chuckles.

"havin' sweet dreams about me?"

"more like flashbacks to last night." you say, waggling youreyebrows salaciously. sevika laughs.

"mmm, knew we'd break the bedframe one'a these days." sevika says with a proud little smile. you giggle and sit up on your elbows to look over at the broken bedframe stacked against the wall beside where the two of you sleep-- on the mattress on the floor.

"shit, sev that was oak, can't believe you fucked me through oak." you laugh. sevika nods cockily.

"damn right i did." she says. you giggle and fall back down to bed, snuggling against her chest. "how're you feeling?" she asks.

you snort. "well, i don't think i'm gonna be able to walk straight for a few days, and i woke up giggling, so... i'm better than i've been since our honeymoon." you say.

sevika grins, her sweet little gap makes your heart melt, and she smacks your ass.

"fuck, i love you." she sighs. you giggle and kiss her neck.

"love you too."

you guys drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

an hour later, the rooster crows, and you both wake up smiling again.

"morning." sevika mumbles. you kiss her lips.

"morning."

"i'll fetch some fresh water if you start breakfast?" sevika offers.

"will you let the chickens out?" you ask. sevika nods.

"duh." she says. you grin.

"deal."

you guys move slowly, lazily rubbing your eyes and yawning as you wash your faces and brush your teeth, stretching and kissing between each article of clothing you pull over your naked bodies, luxuriating in the slow morning all to yourselves.

sevika laughs at the limp in your step, and you pinch the bruises you left on her shoulders in revenge.

you fry up some eggs and hashbowns, watching through the window over the stove as sevika pumps fresh water from the well, watering your garden, the chickens, and finally lugging two buckets inside for the two of you to share.

you guys eat breakfast on the front porch, cuddled together on the porch swing violet 'found' for the two of you a few years ago. (you're pretty sure she stole it off sheriff marcus' front porch, but violet hasn't admitted it yet, and the sheriff's still too scared of you and sev to say anything.)

"how do you think the girls're doin'?" you ask as you sip your coffee. sevika snorts.

"i knew you were gonna ask that." she teases. you roll you eyes and sevika leans over to press a kiss to your temple. "they're fine. you know they're fine." she says. you huff.

"i know, i just miss 'em." you say. sevika laughs.

"i do, too, darlin'." she says.

sevika leans in to kiss you, and you sigh against her, quickly melting against her lips. she licks against your lips and you hum, opening your mouth for her to slide her tongue into your mouth--

"ahem!" a voice calls.

you and sevika pull apart, necks snapping to the stairs in front of you where a teenage girl stands, blushing and rubbing the back of her neck.

sevika clears her throat in embarrassment. you giggle.

"how can we help you, honey?" you ask the girl. her eyes dart up to you, quickly shooting between you and sevika, back to you, and then sevika again.

"uh..." she chokes out. she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, before taking a deep breath. "s-sorry to inturrupt ma'am, i just-- d-do you happen to know a mylo and claggor? or violet and jinx, percha-"

"oh fuck." sevika groans. the girl squeaks at the curse, and you chuckle. "what did those shits get themselves into now?" she asks.

she blinks. "uhm. jail, miss." she says.

you blink.

sevika's jaw drops.

the girl clears her throat. "a-about thirty miles south of here in a small town call--"

"what did they do?" sevika groans. "i trained them for every scenario, how the fuck did they get caught?!" she whines.

you blink again, spots in your vision popping up.

"uh... they shot the sheriff?" she says.

you gasp.

sevika laughs.

"shit." she says, somewhat impressed. "on purpose?" she asks, her eyebrow raising.

you feel lightheaded.

"n-no ma'am. accident. he's still alive-- but he's sentenced them to hang at the end of the week..."

that's the last thing you hear before you black out.

you wake up in bed, sevika nervously hovering over you, pressing a wet cloth to your forehead.

"wha--"

"you passed out."

"jinx and vi--" you snap up in bed, scrambling to your feet. sevika's beside you in an instant, steadying you as you're knees threaten to give out beneath you.

"it's oka--"

"sevika don't you dare say 'it's okay' to me right now!" you snap. she shuts her mouth.

footsteps start up the steps, and you look over your shoulder, where the teenager from before appears, a fresh bucket of water in her hands.

she freezes at the top of the steps, taking in the tense environment she walked in, then turning red as a tomato when she tries to avert her eyes from you and sevika, and makes direct eyecontact with the broken bedframe behind the two of you.

you would laugh at the poor, flustered girl. now though, she just reminds you a bit of the first time violet saw you and sev kiss, and that just makes you want to vomit.

"caitlyn, here," sevika starts in an irritatingly annoying voice, "was hanging out with the kids at the circus, right cait?" sevika asks. caitlyn nods.

"i live in town." she explains.

"and when they got arrested, cait was the only one who got away. violet told her to come get us, right cait?" sevika asks again. caitlyn clears her throat.

"i rode through the night. i also sent a telegraph to a mr. silco?" she says. you blink.

"right. and we're all gonna meet in town, and we're gonna figure something out, okay baby?" she asks. you gulp.

"sevika--"

"honey, i'm not gonna let anyone put a damn finger on our kids." she says firmly. you look away from the teenager to take in the steely sincerity of your wife's eyes, and you gulp. she gently reaches up to cup your face. "c'mon, have a little faith in me, darlin'" she coos, melting into a soft smile. you sigh shakily. "i'm the fuckin' weary woman of the west-- what's a little jailbreak, huh?"

you take a deep breath and lean forward to press your forehead against hers.

"we're gonna need a few horses." you say. sevika grins.

"i'm way ahead of you." she says.

grayson was happy to lend you two horses and buggies, almost crying at the thought of the girls in trouble. she promised to come over every day to care for your chickens and garden while you were away, and you thanked her profusely before riding the animals home faster than you've ever ridden-- anxious to get back.

when you arrive, it's to caitlyn and sevika waist deep in the dirt behind your garden, a few yards away from where shimmer lays. for the first time since caitlyn's arrived, you laugh.

sevika's pulls a crate out of the ground prying it open with a crowbar. as she opens the crate, she reveals dozens of sticks of dynamite, and she grins up at you with a proud smile. you giggle, and roll your eyes. caitlyn shoots out of the hole, terrified by the explosives.

"i'm gonna pack up some food for the trip." you nod to your house. "come help me kid." you say. the girl nods eagerly, sprinting away from the dynamite. sevika laughs.

you guys pack quickly, visiting the cellar for cans of food, gathering the essentials for travel, a couple blankets and quilts, a pack of matches, canteens and jugs of water. while you're folding some clothes, both for you and sevika as well as jinx and powder, you break down into tears.

caitlyn flounders around you for a few seconds, and you try desperately to collect yourself, but you can't quite manage.

the girl gently, awkwardly pats your shoulder.

you turn around and hug her impossibly close to your chest. she squeaks.

"fuck. shit." you cry. you take a few deep breaths, squeezing the girl in your arms, before letting her go. "sorry." you say, dropping your hands at your sides. "thank you." you sob. "for coming to get us."

caitlyn blinks, then wraps her arms around you, pulling you toward her this time. you giggle through your laughs against her shoulder and she gently rubs your back.

"violet told me you'd freak out." she says... "you remind me of my mom."

"oh, fuck, do your parents know where you are?" you gasp, pulling away. caitlyn laughs.

"yes." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "okay, no. but they think i'm safe, at the circus, they won't be looking for me for a while." she swears.

"you stupid fucking kids." you groan.

you leave town at noon, and ride until midnight. the trip is solemn, nobody tries to talk much.

sevika's got this look in her eye, something you haven't seen in a long time. she's up to something-- something more than her usual mischievous pranks and jokes. the gears in her head are grinding, you can practically see her run scenarios and outcomes back and forth through her mind's eye.

it's a little scary-- you forgot how focused and intense she gets when she's plotting something. it's mostly hot though.

but you can't really say that-- not with caitlyn lurking. still, sevika catches your eye a couple of times and smirks, like she knows just how hot she looks as she rides beside you.

caitlyn's a good navigator-- apparently she's a junior guide up and down the river, so she knows the route to town like the back of her hand. she gets you around mountains, avoids most hills, and knows the best spots to stop for when the horses need to rest. sevika's impressed. the two of them chat over the campfire about the surrounding areas, comparing notes and shortcuts they've learned over in their travels. it's so cute it breaks your heart.

it's a dry, warm night, so you sleep beneath the stars.

you don't sleep.

sevika doesn't sleep.

you just stare at the sky while caitlyn and the horses rest.

at one point, sevika reaches over and grabs your hand. "it's gonna be fine." she says. tears well up in your eyes.

"i love you so much." you say. sevika squeezes your hand so hard it's painful, and she replies shakily.

"i love you too darlin'."

it's silent long enough for you to think sevika's fallen asleep, but then she speaks again. "betcha five bucks caitlyn's vi's girlfriend."

you burst into laughter, smacking your hand over your mouth as you laugh. caitlyn stirs beside you, and you can feel sevika's silent, mischievous laughter beside you. you nudge her with your elbow.

when you catch your breath, and caitlyn's snoring returns, you whisper to your wife. "you have way too much faith in your daughter."

she snorts.

you get to town by noon, and sevika sets you and caitlyn up in a the saloon that was the address caitlyn had telegraphed to vander and silco. she takes off to scope out the police station.

it's a pretty gritty place, and you look around it with a raised eyebrow, then look down at caitlyn. she's sitting with perfect posture, dusting off her tailored riding coat.

"you hang out in this saloon?" you ask. she blinks up at you and then sighs.

"well, no... but it's where all the shootouts in town happen!" she says. "it felt... good for planning a crime?" she tries. you laugh.

"sevika's gonna love this." you say. she grins. "what do your parents do?" you ask. caitlyn gulps.

"uh... oil?" she says.

you burst out into laughter.

"shit you're an heiress?" you ask. she nods. you shake your head. "no way vi's bagged you yet." you mumble. caitlyn blushes bright red and clears her throat.

sevika comes back before sunset, sitting beside you at the table and scrawling away in her notebook little sketches of the prison, mumbling to herself, occasionally looking up to ask caitlyn questions.

surprisingly, cait seemed to know a lot.

"do you know which cell they're in?"

"the one on the far end here." caitlyn says, circling a part of sevika's diagram.

"and who else is being held right now?"

"nobody. the sheriff's been itching for some action."

"how do you know all of this?" you ask. caitlyn blushes.

"it's good to stay up to date on local going ons." she says. you chuckle.

she's a dork, you think fondly. she's perfect for violet.

sevika returns to her drawings and you decide it's time to interrogate your daughter's possible future girlfriend.

"how exactly did the kids shoot the sheriff?" you ask. caitlyn blushes bright red, and you raise your eyebrow.

"uh. well..."

sevika looks up from her notebook, intrigued.

caitlyn gulps, then looks away. "it might've been me." she whispers.

your eyes widen.

"what?" sevika asks.

caitlyn blinks, then speaks so fast it's almost impossible to make out. "violet was showing off all the cool things she could do, and i had packed my gun to bring to the circus because they've got contests for clay duck shooting and you can win twenty bucks if you make it to the tournement and i'm a really good shot--" she sucks in a breath, tears bubbling up in her eyes "so i wanted to show off my shooting skills and vi told me to shoot the big roasted hog in the food tent and i did right through the eyes! but i didn't see the sheriff on the other side of the pig getting himself a serving, so the bullet went straight through his shoulder." she finishes, gasping for another breath.

"how did--"

"and before i could even do anything violet was already taking the gun from my hands and telling me to run and i'm so sorry--" she starts to sob.

"shit, relax, kid, it's okay." sevika says, reaching out to pat caitlyn's back. you smile. "it's fine, we're not mad." sevika says. caitlyn gasps, her eyes shooting up between you and sevika.

"you're not?" she asks. you shake your head no. "o-oh." she whispers, wiping her eyes. you ruffle her hair.

silco and vander arrive quickly after. they took the train, and they clearly left the moment they got the message-- wearing day old wrinkled clothes, no luggage, just pistols tucked in every pocket on their bodies.

silco's greeting is a gaurentee that he's going to kill the kids before the sheriff can, and vander's apologetic assurances that his husband is only joking. silco's appearance seems to ease something in sevika, and the two of them quickly fall into a hushed conversation as sevika discusses her plan with silco. caitlyn's right beside them, a little furrow in her brow as she absorbs their hushed discussions.

vander, cordial as ever, gives you a hug and presses a solid kiss to your scalp.

"how're you holding up?" he asks.

"better now that you're here." you respond. he laughs.

"can i be honest?" he mumbles. you nod. "silco's not gonna get the chance to kill the kids, i'll have already fucking done it." he whispers. you laugh. "we're not young and spry like you and sev-- we both nearly had heart attacks when we got your message." he groans. you rub his shoulder as you laugh.

"you wanna hear somethin' that'll make you laugh?" you ask. he nods.

"violet's got a crush on the girl here." you say. vander raises his eyebrow, looking over at caitlyn, who's absorbed by the diagram of the prison, pointing and mumbling to an interested and engaged silco and sevika. "an oil heiress." you say. vander chuckles.

"huh. well are the feelings mutual?" he asks. you laugh.

"they better be. violet got all our fuckin' kids arrested for her ass." you whisper. vander groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing his chest.

"oh, don't tell me these things." he begs. you laugh.

"you're lucky you don't have girls." you say.

you wait until midnight to start your plan.

you split up into three groups.

silco and vander are the horsemen, both of grayson's and cait's, plus teddybear, who they found outside the jail, wrangled up and tied to the two carts-- ready to get out of town fast once you break the kids out.

sevika's on explosives, obviously.

you and caitlyn have to find a way to communicate with the kids.

you're helping wrap a bandanna around the lower half of caitlyn's face, tugging an old hat low on her face to disguise her as best as possible. she grunts and squirms.

"quit movin'. you're a fuckin heiress, everyone knows your face. you can't be seen breakin' kids outta prison." you say. she sighs.

"fine." she grunts as you wrap a scarf over her neck.

"okay." you whisper, satisfied now that she's bundled enough to be indistinguishable. "show me this window."

caitlyn guides you around the back of the jail building, and quietly points up to a cell window about fifteen feet off the ground, iron barred.

"take the beef jerkey." you say, shoving the paper package in her hand. she pockets it, and then you crouch. "stand on my shoulders." you say. she nods, clambering on top of you.

once she's steady, you groan as you stand to your full height. with caitlyn on your shoulders, she can peek through the window.

the window, apparently, sits above the sheriff's desk-- likely where he's in a whiskey induced coma now-- sleeping away the pain of his shoulder. oppisite his desk, are the iron bars holding your children.

the sheriff's got a dog, hence the beef jerkey.

caitlyn whistles into the window. you cringe.

the sheriff snores, and the dog whines. you can make out the plop of a piece of jerkey, and then caitlyn's whispered, "hi doggie!"

you bite back your smile, and almost collapse when you hear jinx's voice.

"oh for fuck's sake-- violet!" she whispers."your stupid fucking girlfriend's here!"

you grin, tears welling in your eyes at the sound of your kid.

"caitlyn!" violet exclaims. you take a shaky breath.

"we're blowing the back wall down." caitlyn whispers. "you need to shelter on this end."

there's some shuffling as the kids wake up and run over to the oppisite wall, and you grin at the pitter patter.

the sheriff gasps, and you freeze. caitlyn bites squeaks.

and then he's back to snoring. you sigh shakily and squeeze caitlyn's ankles.

"stay there. we'll see you on the other side." she whispers, then she jumps down from your shoulders.

the two of you take off for the oppisite side of the building where sevika's waiting for the two of you.

she grabs your hand as she lights the line to the dynamite. you hold your breath. the line sizzles, sizzles, sizzles, quickly reaching the sticks at the base of the wall, until it... fizzles out.

sevika holds her breath. you hold your breath. caitlyn gasps, "oh fuck-- what do we do no--"

she's cut off by a BOOM!

the ground shakes, dust goes flying, and the wall comes tumbling down.

as the dust clears, a small fire illuminating the inside of the cell, you grin as the kids start hooting and hollaring in amazement.

"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" jinx and claggor shout at the same time as they all come sprinting out of the cell.

sevika snorts, then smacks them both upside the head.

"fuckin' stealth mission, assholes!" she whisper-scolds. mylo cackles.

"sorry sevika, but the stealth went out the window with that wall!" he laughs. sevika snorts and wraps all three of them up in her strong arms.

beside you, violet gasps, tears streaming down her eyes as she reaches up to pull caitlyn's bandana away.

"you came back." she whispers dramatically. you roll your eyes at the pure corniness, and then melt at the sweet sight of caitlyn darting forward and pressing her lips against your daughter's.

it's clumsy and quick, and they're both pull away bright red and gasping. you quickly look away when violet's eyes dart toward you, pretending like you weren't looking.

it doesn't seem to matter though, because next thing you know you have an armful of violet, sobbing into your shoulder. you squeeze her tight against your chest, and press a kiss against her head.

"you're in so much fucking trouble." you whisper against her hair. she giggles between her sobs.

"i knew you'd come." she whispers. you laugh.

"duh, dumbass. we need someone to take care of the chickens every day." you say. she cackles.

a gunshot rings out, and you all jump, turning around to face the now- open cell.

the sheriff stand sin the debris, a shard of wood speared through his unshot arm, his gun held weakly in his hand at his waist.

you push violet and caitlyn away to run grabbing their hands as you sprint down the street. beside you, sevika's got mylo under her arm, and calggor's got jinx on his back as they sprint, screaming and laughing down main street.

as the sheriff chases after you, unloading his gun at you, a bullet grazes violet's arm. she gasps in pain, and you gasp in horror, and before you know what's happening you're spinning on your heel and stopping dead in your tracks, reaching for the pistol you'd tucked into your waistband this morning.

you take a deep breath, and close one eye. lining your barrel up with the sheriff's bald, sweaty face.

he gets closer. he gets closer. sevika notices you're missing behind you, screaming your name, and the sheriff's right in front of you.

you shoot, and he crumbles to the ground.

it's quiet, and then your ears start ringing, and then, as the music fades, the sound of jinx's celebratory hoots fill your ears. you grin and turn back around, jogging to catch up to your family where everyone besides jinx (whose dancing in celebration at your shot) is frozen in place and gawking at you.

you smack sevika's ass as you pass her, grabbing jinx's wrist as you continue down main street, toward where silco and vander were waiting.

"c'mon y'all, someone's gonna check in on all this commotion soon!" you call over your shoulder.

shocked laughs fill the dusty main street as you and your family flee.

the ride back to your inn is mostly spent in long lectures, hilarious re-tellings of the kids' experience in jail, and tears and kisses being pressed to cringing children's heads.

but when you get back home to your inn, on your turf, all the anxiety and stress from the journey wear off, and you can finally relax.

you set up vander and silco and the boys in three rooms. violet eagerly volunteers to host caitlyn in her room, which makes you all laugh, (jinx groans in disgust) and you allow it.

and then, after scrubbing down with a washcloth, you fall crawl into the mattress on the floor beside sevika.

she's been snoring since you got back. she woke up for dinner, then fell back asleep after. but the second your weight hits the bed, she's blinking open, a smile on her face. you snort at her.

"what's that look for?" you ask.

"y'know that was the hottest thing i've ever fuckin' seen?" she whispers. you laugh.

"oh yeah?" you ask. she nods.

"didn't think you had it in you." she says, smirking. you just shrug and wink at her.

"you woulda done it anyways, i saw that look in your eye." you say. she grins and nods.

"yeah, but i didn't even have to try. my fuckin' outlaw wife killed the sheriff for me." she says, a blush working up her cheeks. you grin.

"now you know how it feels." you say. she laughs and you dart forward to kiss her forehead.

"i love you." she whispers. "i'm gonna fuck you through the floor tomorrow morning." she mumbles as she drifts off to sleep. you laugh.

"not happenin' babe." you say, kissing her forehead. "the kids are underneath us."

sevika groans. "those stupid fuckers."

you laugh and kiss her again. "i love you, sev."

"you owe me five bucks." she says.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[dujour13]

A Health to the Company

A little follow-up on our pwotr pals discord RP. Many many thanks to @yunessa for the idea, it was super fun and helped me out of the blues.

cw: Act IV spoilers, alcohol use, angst

For context. A spatio-temporal anomaly at the Bad Luck Tavern resulted in a paradoxical meeting of a handful of Knight-Commanders from different timelines: Siavash, Yunessa (@yunessa), Katya (@three-of-crows) , Lenarius/Leonosa (@undyingembers), Raphaël (@jean-dieu)

Theoven (@offsidekineticist), Kadira (@spyridonya), and Minovae (@silversiren1101).

They gossiped about their companions, shared their hopes and fears—although mostly their angst as this period of exile in the Abyss is a low point in their careers—and bonded (and argued) over a few—or a few too many—beers.

---

“Seelah!” It’s meant to be a whisper. “Hey Seelah, wake up.”

“Hunh? What’s happening?” The paladin sits bolt upright in her bedroll and gropes about for Radiance.

“No no no, sh, it’s just me,” Siavash laughs, stumbling into a squat next to her, even in this position somehow managing to sway on his feet. “I’m uh. I could use your help.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah… I can see that. Smell that.”

“You won’t believe who I met at the Bad Luck. It was some kind of temp—temporal thing. They were all there. They were all different! And the same!”

“Hold on. Just—sit down, will you?”

“Thanks, yeah.” He plops down heavily.

“Despite what you might think, this is not what the Inheritor lends me her power for.”

“Yes it is.”

She rolls her eyes heavenward.

He reaches out to cling to her sleeve, eyes swimming with sincerity. “Because you have a good heart. And Iomedae says to follow your heart. And your heart says you need to hit me up with some restoration before Wol—“

Too late.

“Whatcha doin’ chief?”

“I’m fine.”

The tiefling stands over them, tail twitching. Somehow, half the camp is awake now even though Siavash swears he was quiet as a mouse when he crept back into the Nexus.

He is formulating his act of contrition as his eyes travel up but he’s suddenly distracted by how cute Woljif looks in his nightshirt and forgets what he was going to say. And then Seelah’s spell takes effect and it’s like letting all the warm bathwater drain out of his mind, leaving him heavy and shivering on the cold floor of the Nexus mine.

“I thought we were on the same sleep rotation,” says Woljif.

“We are. I just went out for a bit.” Siavash uses Seelah’s shoulder to get to his feet, giving it a squeeze of thanks as he goes to wash up. A few minutes later he’s scooting his bedroll alongside Woljif’s and when he closes his eyes the floor is blessedly stationary. Again he begins formulating his apology. “I just needed some time to think. I mean, a distraction. I do my best thinking when I don’t think.”

As usual, Woljif’s mind is already ten paces ahead. He’s figured out what happened, weighed the risks considering the recent Battlebliss incident, repressed any uncomfortable memories pertaining to alcohol and Gran, and debated whether and how to scold him. “It ain’t safe. Next time take somebody with who won’t hassle you. Take Regill, he won’t talk to you.”

“Oh, yes he will,” Siavash says with feeling.

“Or me. I can keep my trap shut.”

“I don’t mind you.” His heart aches but he can’t tell him he and his shadow are the principal reason he needed the break. Before Woljif can wonder aloud why he didn’t invite him along in the first place, Siavash brushes his cheek with his knuckles and speaks low in his ear, just under his horn. “How are you holding up? Really?”

“I thought Kenabres was bad, and then I saw the Worldwound, and I thought that was bad, and now this. I think my nightmares are gonna start havin’ nightmares.” Woljif sighs, then adds in a tender, embarrassed whisper, “But havin’ you around takes the edge off.”

“Same.” Siavash kisses his shoulder. “I won’t duck out again, I promise.” Even as the words leave his lips he winces at echoes of the same words, uttered too many times in the past, and hastily adds, “I mean it.”

Woljif’s eyes look almost green in the pale light, wide open and searching the vault of the mine far above. “S’aright. You do what you gotta do, chief. Always works out in the end. Or, usually I guess.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he murmurs, already drifting. He closes his eyes, never noticing the inky pool of darkness that settles between them.

Woljif lies utterly still until he hears the breathing at his side ease into a low rhythm. At last he relaxes just enough to allow his tail to swish beneath the blankets. He clasps his hands on his chest as if he’s praying, or dead, and stares up into the darkness knowing he won’t be getting back to sleep tonight. Waiting and dreading… and presently, like clockwork, it begins: a velvety hiss in his right ear, making him scrunch up his shoulders:

Trust no one but yourself.

A thousand thoughts crowd in in answer: but I want to – but I love him – but he’ll live up to it this time – but I don’t want to be alone.

You’re not alone. I’m here. And I won’t hurt you like everyone else has.

What are you, anyway?

Your shadow.

With a fingernail he taps the gem in the Moon of the Abyss where it’s lodged in the dip in his collarbone. You in here?

It hesitates. I’m part of you.

And that’s how come you’re lookin’ out for me huh? Vested interest?

Correct. That’s why you can trust me: I am you.

That’s a little creepy.

Next to him, Siavash sighs through his nose and shifts. Impulsively Woljif starts to reach over just so his fingertips can steal a little warmth from his skin, but as his hand passes through the shadow it feels cold and he pulls it back and tucks it into his own armpit instead.

I am part of you, and you’ve come home to me.

The Abyss? That what you mean by home?

Home and family. Your legacy, if you have the courage to take what is yours.

Really? What’s mine? Quit talkin’ in riddles and gimme some numbers.

The mansion in the rich quarter I pointed out to you, and everything it contains, and everything it represents.

But I want—that’s not all I want.

He glances over. In the dying firelight all he sees of Siavash is the faint orange outline of his mussed hair and half-elven ear and it feels like if he reached over to touch him, it would turn out to be a mirage and his hand would pass through thin air.

Get used to disappointment. You should have, by now.

But I want—

Forget him. You’ll have to someday anyway. Might as well start now.

I don’t want to! Why can’t I have it all? How come just ‘cause I’m a tiefling I always gotta go hungry?

Oh, stop whining. Yes, you’re a tiefling! Seize the Abyss within you and use it like you use magic—shape it to your own design, dominate it, direct it against your enemies and fill yourself with its power so that you become smoke and shadow, elusive and free. Reach out with both hands! Take what is yours, by right or not!

Whoa, whoa, waxin’ a touch demonic there, ain’t we?

I am part of you. I am the Abyss.

Woljif shudders and pulls the blankets up to his chin.

Use me. That’s the only way for someone like you to take what you are owed.

Someone like me.

He grits his teeth as it starts: the prickling under his collarbone where the necklace rests, rivulets of icy blue fire streaming down his arms to his fingertips, sizzling in his hands, boiling in his guts, making his hair stand on end, making him want to jump up and let loose: power.

His thrashing must have disturbed Siavash’s slumber, because he feels an arm tossed across his hitching ribs. Its warm weight soothes the energy crawling under his skin and forces him to breathe steadily.

Woljif clings to the arm and presses it harder to his chest.

I want it to be real.

Only power is real.

I want someone to really think I’m… important.

Come to me. I’ll give you something real you can hold in your hands. Something yours and no one else’s, that you are free to use as you see fit. Then you’ll be important.

The firelight dies. He can no longer make out even a dim silhouette by his side in the darkness; it’s as if he’s alone in this lifeless, cavernous Abyssal mine and if he reaches out no one will be there but his shadow, seething around him, keeping him safe—and keeping everyone away.

Maybe the Abyss is the only home someone like him can hope for.

Even before he opens his eyes Siavash reaches out for the warm body next to him and his palm slaps on cold, flat stone instead. He’s alone, he’s still in the Abyss, and he’s hung over. A dull hammer thuds behind his eyeballs. Seelah’s restoration took care of most of the consequences of his actions, but not all—probably by the paladin’s design.

Hesitantly he opens one eye and then the other, and is grateful to find that Woljif hasn’t disappeared after all. He’s kneeling over him, carefully draping a cool cloth across his forehead. “Y’aright there, chief?”

Siavash’s eyes widen as he turns to stare at him. “I had the strangest dream.”

He can’t tell anyone. They’ll all think he’s cracked once and for all. Other Knight-Commanders from different timelines? Imaginary friends?

Why does that remind him of Regill?

[lavendertales]

Guilty pleasures: Chapter 4

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Tommy mentions the reason why Joel refuses to celebrate his birthday. A fight breaks into the bar, and Joel's reaction to seeing you hurt awakens something in both of you.

word count: 6k

warnings: mentions of injury, alcohol. tension my beloveddd😌

A/N: this chapter kicked my ass oh god. it was much better in my head lmao but I hope it's as good as I want it to be.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

gif: @iero

series masterlist | AO3

AUGUST

“Again.”

Your voice is decisive and even a little harsh, but you know that Ellie’s more than capable of handling it. Poor girl’s had a handful thrown at her, and after traveling with Joel for over two years, you had no doubt that the girl was a tough cookie.

“I’m telling you, this thing’s rigged,” Ellie sighs.

You watch closely her hand on the trigger, noticing she’s squeezing harder than she should. Instantly, you reach around her and take the shotgun from her. Unable to look away, Ellie watches you lean over the rock, your hands steady and eyes locked on the practice target in the distance. Within the next second, you shoot it right in the center.

“Son of a bitch!” Ellie scoffs.

You chuckle, returning her look. “See? It’s fine.”

“Well you’re used to handling big guns! What is it with you and big guns, by the way?”

You falter, simply observing her; then, as you shrug, you notice from the corner of your eye a silhouette approaching.

Unmistakable, broad and about to get on your nerves.

But you choose to ignore it for the time being.

“Havin’ fun?”

Ellie gets up from the ground and starts telling Joel how you’ve been teaching her how to use a shotgun, how you shared tattoo wisdom and how cool you are. Joel listens, nods along, stealing the occasional glance at you.

You notice how displeased he looks. You know he hates how close you’ve gotten with Ellie over the past few weeks. Although maybe hate is too strong of a word; he’s still being cautious about you lurking around Ellie for reasons you have not been told.

Reasons you figured all on your own and kept to yourself out of respect.

So you know that your spending time with Ellie isn’t to Joel’s liking, but you’ve grown fond of her.

“I still think that thing’s rigged so I can’t shoot with it,” Ellie points at your shotgun and at you, respectively.

Joel cocks an eyebrow at you, and your breathing becomes inexistent as you exchange yet another hungry gaze.

While you’ve gotten closer with Ellie in the past month, you’ve grown more distant from Joel. The tension between you two boiled at perilous levels, especially after that evening on your porch. That unprompted kiss, birthed from some manic desire that needed to be sated, remained an unspoken secret between you, nothing more but a mistake done in the heat of the moment.

Every time you see Joel though, every time your eyes meet, you are reminded of that kiss and how much of you it consumed.

“Rigged, you say?” Joel asks, extending his hand so that you hand him the shotgun.

Almost like he’s expecting you to follow his lead without much argument.

Weirdly though, you do. You hand him the shotgun, watching nearly breathless as he steadies himself in the right position on the rock, eyeing the practice target.

“You squeeze the trigger like you love it,” Joel tells Ellie.

“Hmm.”

“Gentle, steady, nice and slow.”

“Are you gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?”

Joel makes a face at Ellie, then steals another quick glance at you. Only this time, Ellie takes notice of it too, much to your dismay.

“Could you not look at me when she says that?” you frown.

“I didn’t,” Joel retorts.

“You did,” Ellie adds.

“At least buy me a drink before, damn, Miller.”

Joel goes back to what he was doing prior. He replies with stoic silence, unable to come up with a good reply. So he points the shotgun right at the target practice and fires without hesitation.

He too shoots it right in the middle.

“You dick!” Ellie shouts, and you stifle a chuckle.

“Told you,” you tell her rather smugly. “You just gotta work on your aim. You nearly shot me in the head twice, and that’s just today. I’m starting to think this is personal.”

Joel lowers his head, stifling a chuckle. It’s brief, barely existent, and yet he feels its existence warming up his chest. The moment he wipes it off of his face, though, he feels empty again. As surprising as it may have felt to laugh at something you said, the second it was gone, he missed it.

Shit. He actually enjoyed that?

“Listen,” Joel mutters to you, grabbing hold of your arm as Ellie walks in front of you, “this thing with you and Ellie, I’m not a fan.”

“Quelle surprise.”

“But she seems to like you. For whatever reason.”

You don’t break the touch though; you’re not really sure why. It just feels… nice. His calloused hands wrapped around your arm, barely applying any pressure, just enough to make you pay attention to him, it’s—not bad.

You swallow your pride and bite your tongue though, all in order to reassure him. You know a concerned paternal figure when you see one.

“I told you before, I have no intention of hurting Ellie in any way,” you whisper, now inching close to his face. “I like her.”

That’s when Joel lets go of your arm, but his eyes drop to your lips and just like that, he’s transported back to the night he hastily kissed you. He reminisces of your scent, something odd yet specific, a mixture of salt, lotion and summer. He reminisces of how it felt to press his lips against yours, to have you open your mouth to welcome his, almost too eagerly and desperately, and his knees nearly give out on the spot.

“But if you wanna take over and teach her how to shoot, you should get to,” you tell him, being the first to back away. “You’re her—protector.”

Joel gulps, closely watching your figure. It feels like you are both too close and yet too far, and he knows that letting you in, allowing him to consume his thoughts and emotions, it will only bring more pain in the end.

“What are you guys doing? C’mon!” Ellie shouts.

No glances are exchanged afterwards. You walk silently into the town, and you make sure to stay well behind Joel and Ellie. The occasional smile appears on your face when you see Ellie excitedly telling Joel about her day and the things that she wants to do. The same smile that vanishes mere seconds later, being replaced by melancholy.

You realize you barely remember your own father anymore. He’s a faint figure at the back of your mind, someone you used to know who was gone too soon. And then you smile again, gathering that Joel is enjoying those moments as much as Ellie is.

As you watch them interacting, quickly forgetting you as they mind their own way, you come to appreciate that Joel is far from being cruel as you once thought. He’s still got kindness left in him, still doing things from the goodness of his heart.

Which begs the question: what happened to Joel Miller? What did the outbreak take from him that left such deep marks on him, causing him to hate the world and everyone in it?

Almost everyone.

You theorize whatever you can, but never pose any questions. It’s none of your business. Curiosity strikes you, sure, but there’s nothing else to it. You and Joel are… complicated. Best if you keep your distance from each other, especially after that unwanted moment.

There’s a sudden tug at the hem of your shorts. When you look down, you notice a little girl staring up at you. Her eyes are big and green, hair the color of caramel chocolate, and your heart drops. The resemblance is striking; you can’t get over it. If you were to believe that you could be haunted by your past… this is all the proof you need.

“Our ball fell on your porch,” she says while you stare at her, completely dumbstruck. “Can you give it back to us?”

Slowly, you come to your senses and realize the girl is with a group of friends who all stare expectantly at you. You blink several times to wake yourself up and nod rather flustered.

“Why didn’t you take it yourself?” you kindly ask the girl.

“My mom says it’s polite to ask first.”

You smile as you hand her the ball. “What’s your name?”

“Maya.”

You suck in a deep breath, eyes getting teary within a split second. Mouth ajar, you can only stare at her, your hands frozen on the ball.

But you don’t want to scare her, especially since you’re carrying a shotgun on your back and a knife in your thigh holster, nor do you want a panic attack to overwhelm you at this very moment.

Instead, you hand her the ball and smile widely at her. “It’s a—very beautiful name,” you tell her.

“What’s yours?”

You give her yours and she compliments it as well. The tears are blurring your vision at this point, but you fight them relentlessly. That is, until a woman stands next to Maya, eyeing you, and then her.

“Maya, sweetie, it’s dinner time,” she says.

“Can I play five more minutes?”

“Only five more minutes. But not any more, okay?”

“Okay.”

Maya sulks, and your smile widens. You blink again, making sure you keep your tears under control—as much as you can, at least. Then, an idea strikes you.

“Oh hey, do you like stuffed animals?”

Maya turns towards you, nodding frantically as she stares with those innocent wide eyes that simply make you melt.

“I might have something for you,” you say. “If that’s okay.”

You address her presumed mother this time, and she nods as well. You rush inside your house, opening a forgotten box at the back of your wardrobe. The moment you hold the rabbit plushie in your hands, a wave of sadness washes over you. The years clearly got to it, but that’s mostly because you haven’t had the guts to clean it properly. You let it catch dust and fade away, like the memories locked with it.

“This was my sister’s,” you tell Maya as you hand her the plushie. “She carried it with her everywhere when she was little. A little during teenage years too. Her name was Maya. Like yours. It’s a bit old, but nothing a good wash won’t erase.”

“He’s so cute! Can I name him?”

“You can name him whatever you want. He’s yours now.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

As Maya hugs your legs—at her height, it’s all she can manage—her mother looks at you, a heartfelt expression residing on her face.

“Are you sure?” she asks you.

You nod. “A kid should have it.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and touches your arm.

You watch them walk away, and finally you allow yourself a moment’s rest; you close your eyes, and the tears come pouring down your cheeks without you even trying to make it happen. You let them stain your face, you let the grief make its way from the box you’ve buried it inside your heart.

With one deep inhale, you open your eyes, face to face with Joel again. You’re very much aware of how disheveled you look now, as opposed to half an hour ago, but you couldn’t care less.

“Don’t,” you warn him, though your warning is as soft and raw as you’re feeling right now.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“That was very kind of you,” you hear Tommy’s voice, and later noticing his silhouette in your vicinity as well.

“A kid should have toys.”

“Whose was it?”

Joel’s tone is calm and understanding as opposed to all the other times the two of you have interacted. Perhaps that’s why it tightens your chest further, building towards your anger a little more.

“Just—not today, okay?” you nearly snap at him. “I’m really not in the mood for some typical Miller crap. No offense to you, Tommy, I actually like you.”

Tommy makes a flattered and impressed face. “Hear that?” he tells his brother. “I’m good.”

“I was gonna say somethin’ nice but I see this ain’t the audience for that.”

With that, Joel simply walks away, leaving a dumbfounded Tommy and a hurt you behind like there was nothing to it.

“What’s with him?” you ask Tommy. “He’s a bit snappier than usual.”

You watch as Tommy stares you down, inhaling and exhaling slowly in a well-rehearsed manner before he replies, “He always gets like this before his birthday.”

“His birthday’s coming up?”

“End of September.”

You’re surprised at the information. You wouldn’t expect someone like Joel Miller to care so much about a silly birthday, much less during such dangerous and cruel times. Questions begin to swim inside your mind once more, begging to be answered.

“I don’t suppose it has anything to do with growing older,” you say, to which Tommy shakes his head in denial almost instantly.

“No.”

When you fail to ask the next logical question, Tommy gulps, unsure if he should answer at all. It’s a family matter. After all, it’s a loss for Tommy too, and it weighs heavily on him—albeit not as cruelly as it weighs on Joel.

“September 26th,” he commences, voice grave and low. “The day of the outbreak, on his birthday… his daughter Sarah died. She was shot. Stupidest damn thing.”

Your face drops, as does your heart. Truthfully, you figured it was something along those lines, and yet somehow, when faced with the truth, you still take it much harder than you would’ve anticipated.

“Fuck,” you murmur, taken aback. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s been twenty years, but I wouldn’t bring up her name if I were you. I don’t. Joel never recovered.”

Perfectly understandable, you think.

Your mother used to tell you that there was no pain greater than the one of losing your child. The way she said it, guttural and barely breathed, made you understand how heartbreaking it must be. You prayed you’d never have to find out.

So you can only try to imagine what Joel must feel like at all times. It almost makes up for all the times you two have argued and all the times Joel left abruptly, avoiding all eye contact, as well as physical.

Of course he wouldn’t want to be close with anyone. Getting close meant caring, and caring, love, it meant one thing in the end: pain.

“I guess that explains him for the most part,” you murmur, still processing.

“He means well,” Tommy explains. “At least I hope he does. He’s just… not crazy about others in his business.”

“Understandable. So I guess… he wouldn’t be a fan of, say… having a drink with one of his least favorite people? Y’know, when his birthday comes?”

The way Tommy stares at you, in a concoction of curiosity and giggles, makes your stomach twist and turn. You expect additional questions but you dread them tremendously. Although you suppose your rivalry with Joel wouldn’t be totally lost on his little brother.

“See, I don’t get the two of y’all,” he says, arms crossed at his chest and his interest peaked to the max. “You almost always argue, and now you wanna have a drink with him?”

He looks downright amused, and that, in return, upsets you. “I’m just trying to do something nice,” you reply. “Call it pity, being kind-hearted, whatever. But you can’t share a story like that and expect people to not react. I’m not heartless.”

“Sure thing. Except—most people would leave it at ‘I’m sorry’.”

You huff. “What do you want me to say, Tommy?”

“If you’ve got anythin’ to say, don’t say it to me.”

What would you even say to Joel? That you still get flashbacks to that unprompted kiss? That it still consumes you? That you craved more of that heat, curious to know what pleasures ate at his soul, locked and hidden away?

“But just so you know,” Tommy resumes, “Joel’s not the best at… communicating.”

“I think I’ll just stick to the one drink.”

Then Tommy calls out your name as you’re getting ready to leave, catching your attention.

“A lil’ bit of advice?”

“Sure.”

“I shared a drink with someone once, got to know that someone… and now we’re married.”

You roll your eyes, exhaling.

“Really?” you ask. “What is it with everyone and marriage and kids today?”

“Who’s everyone?” Tommy asks with a deep frown.

“I thought I’d do something nice, okay? It’s not necessarily pity. I just… I get the pain, okay? I’m not heartless.”

“I know you’re not. My point was… take care.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

You don’t say anything in return. The memories attached to your family are both good and dark, with the latter tending to take control more often than not. You find yourself haunted by past mistakes, frozen by the inability to save your family, and those are things you’d much rather keep private.

Just like you suppose Joel wants to keep his daughter’s death. Locked in his past, far away from anyone’s prying eyes or pitiful gazes.

As the moon emerges bright on the sky and you settle on a secluded chair at the bar, ordering a whiskey, you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you now know the main reason for Joel Miller’s—everything. Suddenly you feel like an intruder in his life, learning about the darkest moment in his life without him consenting to it. Of course, you plan on saying nothing of the sort, but the knowledge still remains deep within your mind.

It all starts to make sense: the way he’s so overprotective of Ellie, always watching over her, laughing at all of her bad jokes and going out of his way to find things that’ll make her happy.

Maybe Ellie is his second chance at fatherhood.

And maybe you were far too quick to judge him.

You are far too immersed into the amber liquid that’s occupying the glass before you to accept the presence that’s settled onto the chair on your right. You can feel their eyes on you, scanning, almost judging you, and you all but groan. Instead, you take a larger sip, letting the alcohol burn your throat and slowly, your whole body.

“If you wanna know somethin’ about me, you ask me,” the voice to your right coos.

The tone is all too familiar at this point, husky and menacing, but it does nothing to you.

Well. That is not technically true.

Despite everything that you’ve gone through having that grumpy man on your tracks for the past year, almost, he makes you feel alive. Whenever he’s around you, you feel more inclined to simply breathe in and out, feel each moment as if it’s your last; and with your every argument, every vicious look thrown back at each other, it only manages to stir something inside you that you’ve just never felt before. It’s a bizarre yearning, a longing for something unclear, yet so perfectly understandable.

You huff, slowly turning towards Joel. “Would you voluntarily tell me things about yourself?” you ask coyly.

“No.”

You hide the smile that threatens to break from the corners of your mouth, one that you suspect would anger Joel.

“I take it you talked to Tommy,” you say, almost done with your drink now.

“I told you to stay away,” Joel retorts, and his voice sounds like he’s in pain.

For a moment, just a fleeting, temporary moment, you want to look deep into his eyes and tell him it’s okay to feel things.

But the moment passes as swiftly as it arrives, and you say nothing of the sort.

“Actually, you haven’t,” you tell him, cautiously this time. “You never said anything of the sort. All you said—well, all you did was—“

Joel turns abruptly towards you, catching your attention. His face isn’t its usual dark aura, the kind of silent anger that’s boiling just beneath the surface, ready to blow over should anyone come too close.

“I didn’t do anything.” He pronounces each word carefully, as if he’s trying to let you know that if so much as mention the thing that’s on both your minds, he will lash out.

“You know what, if you wanna deny things, say they never happened, fine, do what you want,” you lean in to whisper to him. “But maybe don’t do them in the first place. Because maybe those things might keep someone up at night, thinking and wondering. And maybe that person would hate lying awake thinking of something that… how was it? It’s not a big deal.”

Joel clenches his teeth, downing his drink and now fully turns to you.

“You don’t need to know about my past and I don’t need to know about yours,” he breathes.

“Fine. But I’ll just say this. Talking about someone you lost means preserving their memory. If you stop talking about them, it’s like they never existed. You keep them alive by talking about them, by—“

“You don’t have a goddamn clue what loss is.”

That’s what triggers you. That’s what sends you over the edge, to a point of no return. You think of your baby sister, of your parents and friends and the little Maya you met today, and your heart aches and trembles in your chest, tormented by past mistakes and ghosts.

“You’re not the only one whose world stopped when you lost someone. Sure as hell not the only one who’s experienced loss in this fucked up world. So stop acting like you’re the sole victim here.”

“Kid?”

You freeze, staring at Joel for longer than you probably should have.

“Baby sister,” you reply almost inaudibly, barely able to swallow your own saliva. “And many others. So don’t you dare think you’re the only one who’s suffered a loss, or the only one with demons to face. We all got ‘em. We’ve all gone through hell, we’ve all suffered. Some of us still are. Present company included.”

“That why you can’t use a handgun? Reminds you of shooting them dead?”

You can feel your pupils dilate, your pores diluted by sheer anger. You don’t know how he intuited that or how he knew, but it’s the one thing you won’t allow to have tainted any more than it already is.

“Joel,” you warn sharply and higher, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t.”

“Stings, doesn’t it?”

“Joel… don’t fucking go there.”

Regret washes over him the moment he sees your face, filled with anger and pain.

“I asked about your stupid birthday because I thought you know what? I might enjoy having a drink with the man. Because there might be something more to him that I’d like finding out. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. Like you said. What’s the point of it, anyway?”

 Joel wants to contradict you; he wants to grab your hands into his, squeeze them as he stares into your eyes and tells you that it does fucking matter, and it was a big deal, that kiss. He wants to tell you how you’re the first person he could even look at since Tess, how you sparked his interest without even trying and slithered into his life and mind without lifting a single finger, but rather pointing your shotgun and him, meaning business.

He says none of that. He only looks at you, ashamed of his prior words and reaction, trying to swallow them along with the whiskey. He barely registers the noises around him, the indistinct chatter, cuss words being thrown around with so much ease and the shoving. He only starts to notice something is amiss when you stand from your seat, eager to leave, and not able to navigate through the sudden crowd.

When Joel looks around, he sees a fight ensued. He stands up, willing to go after you and at the very least excuse his harsh words, but when he doesn’t see you, panic bubbles in his chest.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here?!” Joel shouts around him, but there’s no reply.

Instead, Joel dodges a few punches thrown dangerously close to his own face. He soon realizes that the fight had escalated and that half of the bar was trying to break it apart. His heart is racing, and his mind is sending one signal: find her.

His eyes search through the crowd, elbowing his way through the people around him; he sees punches and kicks and he dodges them to the best of his abilities, but when he bumps into someone, his wrist gets caught onto some fabric. He pulls away sharply, the appalling aftermath of that one encounter shaking him completely.

Suddenly Joel’s eyes drop to the floor, frantically searching for his watch. It’s the first time in over twenty years that the watch is off his wrist and he’s never felt more vulnerable and exposed. Tears threaten to roll down his cheeks as he keeps searching, hopeless and maddened by the possibility that someone might step on the watch. He can’t lose it, he can’t be without it, he can’t—

The scream that he hears next chills him. Still frantic, heart almost bursting out of his chest, Joel finally spots you. You’re clutching your arm, facing away from the bar. He sprints towards you, unable to think of anything else.

“What happened?” he asks.

“One of these morons—popped my shoulder!”

“C’mon. Let’s get outside.”

On your way out, you hear Maria intervening and the fight finally broken. Then you faintly hear Tommy scolding whoever it was that started the whole thing, shouting in disapproval. Frankly, it’s kind of a blur with the blinding pain that you feel. You can’t feel most of your arm, and the warm air outside doesn’t lessen the sensation. Somehow, it gives the opposing effect and makes you feel like you’re about to catch on fire.

That, or it could also be the way Joel’s hands hold onto you so gently and carefully, guiding you to his house.

Foreign territory, you realize. But you don’t really look around, you can’t; not with white, hot pain searing through you.

Joel guides you to a couch, helping you down and taking a look at your shoulder. Then, his gaze shifts onto you, his eyes suddenly warm and soft and apologetic.

“I have to set it back in its socket,” he informs you.

You falter, spending one second too long staring at him. “Do it,” you nod.

Taking a deep breath in and closing your eyes, you try to ready yourself for what’s about to come. You’re familiar with all kinds of pain, but the one resulting from embarrassment of having someone who detests you help you in such a tense moment is something else entirely.

Nonetheless, it still takes you aback when it happens.

Joel pulls your arm, steady and carefully, but you still wail. You wail and groan, letting out the pain and a few beads of sweat protruding at your temples and on your forehead. And then you feel the same warm hands holding your arm at your chest.

“You’re good, you’re okay,” Joel coaxes you, his voice grave, yet oddly pleasant. “Focus right here, right here on me.”

You do as you’re told and lock eyes with him, breaths more even now. It hurts significantly less, though you’re not out of the woods just yet. You try to move your fingers to see whether Joel did a patch job or not, but next thing you know, his fingers are holding yours.

“Can you move them?” he asks.

“I think so.”

“Show me.”

You move the index first, wiggling it tentatively, then the middle one.

“All of them,” Joel instructs gently.

You move the ring finger and the pinky, then all of them at once, nice and slow. As you pleasantly remark that the nerves in your hand seem to be intact, you stifle a gasp at the realization that Joel’s fingers are intertwined with yours. The feeling is that of warmth and coziness, and yet… there’s electricity in it. Static, wild and treacherous.

“Looks good,” Joel concludes, clearing his throat a little.

Your eyes look up at him, finally meeting with his, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you shivered.

“Feels good too,” you murmur, hoping it’s inaudible, or some figment of your imagination.

But it’s neither. Joel hears you, and this is very much real. Him, holding your hand and not pulling away like he usually does, it’s the realest thing he did in a while.

“Thank you,” you say.

Joel nods, back to his stoic self. He knows he should probably pull away, take his hand out of yours.

But he can’t.

“I’m—I’m sorry, by the way,” he manages to get out.

“For what?”

He falters. “For saying those things, back at the bar. I shouldn’t have said… it was cruel.”

“How did you know what happened?”

Your question is merely for pure information, nothing else. Yet shame won’t leave Joel’s body.

“The way you looked at that little girl. There was guilt in your eyes. The kind that stays with you forever, haunts you. For something you did.”

You don’t respond. You’re already feeling awfully vulnerable tonight, and opening about the biggest tragedy in your life isn’t something you wish to do. Not now, probably not ever.

“I’m also sorry for… oversteppin’ some boundaries, a while back,” Joel resumes, like he wasn’t anticipating an actual answer from your side.

You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting. That gets Joel impatient and flustered.

“You know what I—c’mon, don’t make me say it out loud,” Joel all but begs.

You smile in the slightest. “Humor me and say it anyway.”

With a loud huff, Joel manages to get out, “I’m sorry for kissing you.”

“Why’d you do it?”

Again, mere curiosity and interest. You’re not trying to get him to open up about anything, given that he didn’t do it to you when it comes to your sister.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” he shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “Like a lot of folks, I live my life one day at a time and I figured… I might die tonight, tomorrow mornin’… why not seize the moment with someone who ain’t half bad looking?”

You frown, unsure if you should feel flattered or insulted. “Oh, I’m not ‘half bad looking’? As opposed to what, the infected?”

“Better alternative.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, and to your surprise, Joel does the same. His chuckle is deep, but heartfelt. It stirs something inside you, something pleasant that you wish wouldn’t vanish anytime soon.

“Anyway,” Joel resumes, feeling his cheeks flushed, “sorry about that.”

“You should be. It was pretty damn terrible.”

Joel’s the one who frowns this time around, staring incredulously at you. “What?”

You nod. “Yeah. Pretty awful. It was too short.”

Stunned, Joel can only blink and stare at you, unabashedly dropping his glare at your lips and licking his own subsequently. He’s painfully aware of the fact that he’s still holding your hand, and suddenly he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s overwhelmed and there’s adrenaline pumping in his veins, and you’re so close to him—but you’re still hurt, so he couldn’t—

“Joel,” you coo, bringing him back with his feet on earth, “you said it’s no big deal. So I didn’t—I didn’t make a big deal out of it. I tried to not let it get to me, but I—“

“It’s been a… long, long time since I felt anythin’ close to this. I thought I was over feeling these things. I didn’t expect to… want more. I don’t get close to people, not anymore.”

“You got close with Ellie.”

“It sneaked up on me. I didn’t expect to care about her so damn much, but I was wrong. And now, with you... you sneaked up on me too. In a whole other way.”

Your throat’s dry, heart pounding and you feel warm all over. You’re not sure if it’s from the pain, the glass of whiskey you had less than half an hour ago or Joel’s shy words—or perhaps a mixture of those three—but you do want to ease his worries a little, if you can.

“You think I went around making friends and dating?” you ask, and you see a hint of amusement on Joel’s face. “I sure as hell didn’t. Maybe scratch an itch here and there but I’ve never—I don’t think I’ve ever felt an urge like this one, right now.”

Joel’s face moves closer to yours, his eyes roaming all over your face to the point where your cheeks redden.

“What that might be like?” he asks.

“Like I want you around all the time. Like I… I think about kissing you again. And what it would be like to touch you.”

“So far so good?”

He’s looking at your hands, joined together by your fingers, and then back at you, and you shudder. You hate the impact this man has on you, the way he raises your blood pressure and heats your body with a single look.

But boy are you mesmerized by it.

“So far so good,” you confirm.

You lean in, perhaps foolishly so, but it’s what you feel the moment calls for. Even if it’s wrong, even if there’s a thousand reasons for why you shouldn’t do it, you’d still find one to go through with it.

“Hey, there you are!”

Ellie’s cheerful voice makes you and Joel separate in an instant, your hands no longer tangled. You meet Ellie’s gaze, who seems relieved to see you.

“Hey,” you tell her.

“I’ll get you something to hold the arm in place,” Joel announces rather awkwardly.

“I heard what happened,” Ellie says. “What a bunch of douche heads. How’s your arm?”

“Feels good. Joel reset it.”

“Ouch.”

“Eh, it wasn’t as painful as you might think.”

Joel steals a glance at you from the bedroom, smiling to himself. He can’t recall the last time he ever felt the urge to just smile because of someone’s presence.

“C’mere,” he tells you, tightly wrapping a cloth around your shoulder and arm. “Hold it still. Should last you a couple of days.”

“Thank you.”

You linger with your gaze, and so does Joel. However, Ellie frowns at the two of you, surprised that you aren’t at each other’s throats.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” she tells you. “See you tomorrow, guys.”

“Goodnight, Ellie. Thanks for checking in.”

“Sure thing.”

“Don’t think this means you’re getting out of practice tomorrow morning.”

“Wasn’t counting on it.”

You smile, watching Ellie leave. Once you’re alone with Joel again, you clear your throat, feeling oddly dry as you sit up.

“I should get some sleep,” you announce.

“I should too, I think.”

The warm air is thickened by unspoken words and silence, both your hearts racing unsteady inside of you. Joel walks you to your house, meeting your eyes when you’re on the dimly lit porch.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you tell him.

“Goodnight.”

If there was ever any moment to share a kiss, this would be it.

But as he walks away, shaking his left hand and realizing again how painfully empty it feels, he comes to realize that kissing you now, after the chaotic night you’ve had, would’ve led him to want more. He was already craving things that drove him insane with lust, and so putting an abrupt end to a potential kiss would’ve ruined him.

He knows that if he would’ve kissed you now, he wouldn’t have been able to stop.  

He thinks that if he’ll ever kiss you again, he definitely won’t be able to stop.

previous | next

[your-queer-dad]

pa I've got a problem, my ex came to my town cause they were traveling through on a road trip, we decided to meet up at the mall, catch up, hang out, the works. We were havin fun and it went great, I had a great time, they were one of my best friends you know? Anyways they gotta leave we say goodbye yadda yadda.

The next day they text me telling me they aren't over me and probably never will be... Now I don't know how to respond to this so I'm stuck for two days but I finally responded with something like "your one of my best buds, and I'm doing pretty good now" I kinda ignored the whole "not over me part". It's been a few days and they haven't responded.

I don't really have anyone to talk about this with, my folks weren't exactly the most supportive of me having a non binary partner, and my father did some really messed up stuff about it. I feel like I can't tell my girlfriend cause she says she gets jealous sometimes and I don't want her to feel that way, she's got real bad anxiety about me cheatin and the like(which I would never do for the record) hell I don't even know if she feels jealous of me seeing my ex in the first place, cause right after they left she came to see me and was vaguely talking about feeling really jealous and I don't know... It could be related?

I don't have much close friends I can talk with this about, so I'm feeling pretty isolated.

I don't know, I can't deal with being a heartbreaker, every time someone tells me I'm the nicest person they know I just have ta think "what kinda assholes do you know that I'm the nicest one of em?"

Feel free to ignore this, I'm just dumping my junk at this point

Hey kiddo, I think you handled that situation really well by ignoring their attempts and I think it's very considerate of you to consider your girlfriend's feelings in all of this. You're not an asshole for not liking an ex back. You can't control someone else's emotions, only your own and someone else's feelings aren't your responsibility.

- dad x

[abbott976]

Summer Nights

It was the week before senior year was set to begin and Tammy and Josselyn decided to throw a party. Tammy's parents were out of town on a cruise, which meant the small party for the senior class had quickly turned into a full rager.

There was a make-shift dance floor in the living room, people playing drinking games, and some people had even gotten into the pool out back.

When Zeke walked in with Tina, he immediately knew they wouldn't be staying long. It was too loud and way too crowded, but neither of them wanted to deal with the hassle of hearing Tammy and Josselyn complain that they hadn't come to their party. Which was why they had agreed they'd stay for an hour or so and if they weren't having fun, they'd bail and do their own thing. Easy enough.

Frankly, Zeke was looking forward to taking his girl to watch the sunset at the beach. He had been pulling extra hours at his uncle's shop lately and he wasn't necessarily looking forward to sharing her on his first night off all week. But he knew Tina would want to dance, and as much as he wanted some time alone, he couldn't resist getting to dance with Tina when she was wearing those little denim shorts of hers.

She had been driving him crazy from the moment he picked her up. She had came down the stairs in those shorts that were cut just right to where they hugged her curved and showed off her legs. She had paired them with a simple black v-neck that had left Zeke speechless.

He couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of her the entire drive to Tammy's place. Every few moments, Zeke would catch himself sneaking a peek over at her in the passenger seat, smiling as she listened to a playlist he had made of all their favorite songs. He had one hand on the steering wheel and kept the other planted firmly on Tina's thigh, tracing circles and patterns as they drove along.

By the time they'd gotten to the party Tina was fidgety and he could tell he'd gotten under her skin. So he grabbed her hand and wove his way through the party to lead her through the dance floor.

-----‐---‐--‐------‐------

Tina hated the crowds but always loved to dance. Especially when she got to dance with Zeke. He'd hold her close as close as humanly possible, moving them to the beat, keeping one hand in her back pocket and the other on her waist. He always had a way of making her feel as if they were the only people in the room. She loved the way his t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and how she was close enough to grab his butt as much as she wanted.

The two continued to sway and spin in time with the beat of the playlist Tammy's cousin had put together. Tina was so caught up in staring in Zeke's eyes that she barely registered the other dancing bodies around them, focusing only on the way Zeke held her close, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers. His hands slid down her back, stopping to squeeze her hips and pull her against him.

"Are ya havin' fun T?"

"Yeah," her reply came out breathy but she wasn't sure if it was from the dancing or the way he was holding her. Maybe a bit of both if she was being honest.

"Good," Zeke smirked down at her. "I know neither of us are big party people, but I gotta say it's hard for me to have any complaints when I get to hold you like this."

As he spoke, his hands traveled downward, one firmly cupping her backside while the other played with the fraying edge of her denim shorts. Tina could feel the blush bloom across her face as Zeke leaned in to brush his lips against hers.

The sounds of the party fell away as Tina became lost in Zeke. His lips moved slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. She shivered as she reached up to cup his jaw. His hand moved to her hair, pulling her closer to him. His tongue starting to tease between her lips as he deepened the kiss, shamelessly showing the world exactly who he belonged to.

All of a sudden, Zeke was pushed forward as the music picked up and someone bumped into him from behind. Tina was left to catch her breath as he instinctively pulled her closer, making sure to keep her from stumbling.

"You okay?" he asked, his fingers brushed a stray hair off of her forehead.

"More than okay. You wanna get out of here?"

"I'm happy to go anywhere as long as I can kiss you again."

Zeke grinned as Tina began to pull him off of the dance floor and out of the party.

-----‐-------------------

Pulling up to the seculded beach, Zeke shifted his truck into park and turned to face Tina. Her gaze was already settled on him, a small smile on her face.

"What are we doing out here Zeke?"

"I figured we could watch the sunset and maybe just hang out for a little while before I have to drop you off for your curfew. Does that sound okay T?"

Tina unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips.

"Sounds perfect. Let's go!"

They climbed out of the cab, making their way to the truck bed where Zeke had stashed a blanket, some pillows, and a cooler with snacks and drinks. The pair watched the sky turn orange and pink, talking about everything and nothing.

When the last rays of light started to dip beneath the horizon, Zeke could feel Tina's eyes on him.

"Hey Zeke?"

"Yeah T?"

"I love you."

She had said the words so fast he almost thought he'd imagined it. He turned to meet her gaze, eyes wide and jaw slightly slacked. He couldn't believe she'd said she loved him.

She bit her lip as she stared into his eyes, clearly nervous for what he'd say or do next. In an attempt to recover, she stumbled over her words.

"I mean...I've known for a while...and I was waiting to say so and it seemed like a good moment to-"

Before she could finish her anxious rambling, Zeke cut her off with his lips crashing into hers. His passion consumed her, erasing all lingering doubts and unanswered questions. She felt herself sink into his embrace as his hands pulled her into his lap, deepening their kiss.

Zeke sighed with pleasure as Tina reciprocated, wrapping her arms around his neck. He kissed her like a man starved, desperately trying to enjoy every single second of her lips against his.

When he finally pulled away, he didn't think he'd ever seen her more beautiful than the way she looked at him with her skin flushed and her eyes wide, still breathless from his touch.

"I love you too, Tina."

He pulled her in for a bone crushing hug, Tina nuzzling her face into his neck. They sat like that as the sky got dark with shy smiles on their faces, neither willing to break the spell they'd found themselves in. Zeke pulled Tina closer, content to watch the stars begin appearing in the early night sky as he held his girl, knowing he'd never love anyone as much as he loved her.

[voidsdamned]

Wicked Natures - The Ghoul/OC (Female Character) Chapter Three

Summary: Bounty hunters are frequent customers at Mulholland's Saloon, and Rue's taken quite a shine to one gunslinger in particular: a cantankerous, old Ghoul in a tattered duster. Witness her unabashedly lust after him in all his irradiated glory (as we are all currently doing), as well as navigate the precarious relationship she unfortunately has with local law enforcement.

Minors, do not interact.

Content Warnings: a mild chapter. Swearing. Drinking. Mentions of prostitution. Unwanted attention. More dirty talk.

Enjoy.

Chapter Three: Mighty Need

“Warner says he’s gonna marry me.”

“He the… um….” Rue bites her bottom lip thoughtfully, grasping for the face to match the name, and her hands briefly still in the mess she’s making of Lara’s corset laces. “The real muscley one, right? Clean boots? Blushes a lot?”

Lara –petite, brunette, and honey-eyed– smiles bashfully. Rue can see her face flushing in the mirror they sit before. “Yeah.”

“He seems alright in my book, so I guess I don’t mind him sweepin’ ya off your feet.” Rue braids a length of the laces, then interlaces the braid with the crazy criss-crossing going down Lara’s back. “Think he’s serious?”

“I think so. I hope so…. I can… I can dream ‘bout it, at least.” Lara picks at her nails. Twists at her fingertips. “He’s supposed to be joinin’ up with a caravan and says we can travel together. I… I want that badly.”

Rue smiles, heart twisting sadly but hopefully for Lara. She’s Rue’s favourite person that works at Mulholland’s –Hal second and everyone else is… well, everyone else is a bit of a dick– and she deserves so much more than life as a courtesan. She deserves more than Dust.

“I want that for you. This place doesn’t suit ya.”

“It don’t… it don’t suit you either,” Lara’s voice is hushed, nervous, as if she worries someone listens. “Maybe we could bring you with us?”

Rue’s throat goes tight; her heart flutters and breaks. “All I’d do is bring you trouble.” She looks to the monstrous snare she’s concocted and changes the subject. “I like to dream about havin’ robot parts. Wouldn’t it be neat to have metal legs? They wouldn’t break or get tired. Suppose I’d have to worry ‘bout rust, but I think the perks outweigh the bad.”

Lara is quiet for a moment, her shoulders tense. Rue doesn’t look up. She doesn’t want to see the face the honey-eyed girl might be making.

“Y’know… that does sound kind of fun,” the brunette finally humours her. “I think I’d get me some fancy eyes that can see in the dark.”

Rue looks up, beaming brightly to find Lara smiling right back. “And through walls! Catch people in all kinds of shit.”

Lara’s grin goes devilish. “Ooh. There’re several people I’d like to get some dirt o-.”

The door to Lara’s room bangs open, causing the brunette to jump and for Rue’s hands to still in the catastrophe of corset laces. Both girls look over their shoulders, to the glowering figure of Adel puffing a cigarette in the doorway.

“Deck’s here for ya, Rue. Finish up what you’re doin-.” The viper’s face goes red. “Rue. Rue, ya know how to lace a fuckin’ corset. What the fuck are you doin’? Get the fuck up –get the fuck outta here!”

Rue untangles her fingers and pops to her feet, smiling innocently. “I was just tryin’ somethin’ new!”

“Only thing you’re tryin’ is my goddamn nerves,” Adel snaps, aggravated arm motions ushering Rue to skedaddle. “Lara, you sort yourself or get Molly to.”

Rue shoots Lara a small, apologetic smile, and then yelps when the viper seizes her by the arm. Her grip is harsh and pinching as she hauls Rue from the room.

Adel grumbles all the way down the hall, dragging Rue to the staircase and giving her a prompt push to get her moving. Just a little bit harder, and Rue probably would have tripped and tumbled all the way to the ground floor. But she keeps her balance, and her pace is reluctant. The man she hates most in the world is here, standing in the midst of Mulholland’s main floor and surveying his currently empty kingdom with his hands propped on his waist.

Deck Craven is a barrel-chested man with sandy hair, green-eyed and well kept. He wears a tan, pinch-front cowboy hat and ranching clothes: button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, jeans, and boots. Not a spot or stain on them; no holes or fraying edges. It’s all part of his brand, but that magnum on his hip is more than just for show. It’s the only part of his ensemble that looks as if it’s seen some use. Rue knows it has.

Rue used to think him handsome and his green eyes kind, but he’s not much more than an acid blob in human skin to her now. She wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire –unless she had a mouthful of gasoline. But she makes her face light up, her smile so bright, and waves.

“Afternoon, Deck!”

Green eyes find her, and his smile widens. “Hey there, little bird. How ya doin’ this afternoon?”

“Pretty good!" Rue doesn't quite skip up to him, but she makes sure there is a good deal of pep to her step. "Lara and I were talkin’ about havin’ robot bodies. I want fancy legs, and she’d like a new set of eyes.”

Amused, brassy laughter fills the air. "Fancy legs, huh?" He shakes his head. “I never know what’s about to come out your mouth…. But I’m glad you’re havin’ fun.”

Rue only knows to smile. She rocks back and forth on her heels, hands held behind her back. “You in house tonight?”

Another shake of the head. “Not tonight –not for a few nights, actually. Got business outta town. It’ll probably be two weeks ‘fore I’m back in Dust. I just wanted to pop in and see ya before I headed out. Let ya know what’s goin’ on if you get to lookin’ for me.” Pure joy floods through Rue, instantly doused when the sheriff’s hands find her shoulders. He adopts a serious look, a fatherly cadence that burns her up. “I got a few of the boys keepin’ eyes out for ya, okay? You need anything, you get with Lucky. And I’ve already told Adel not to mess with ya.”

The last bit of his spiel is actually good news, bringing back a smidge of her stomped-on joy. Adel’s always trying to whore Rue out or strip her down. She needs constant reminders, warnings, to not try anything funny.

Rue dips her head, genuinely appreciative. “I’ll be good so she won’t have a reason to.”

“Oh, I know you will.” He ruffles her hair, seriousness given way to a smile. “You’re always good.”

Bleh.

“I gotta get on the road now, Rue.” A gentle touch to her chin, fingers trailing and not quite grabbing. “Have you a good shift and a good night.”

Rue grins wider, waving with both hands. “Safe travels, Deck!”

The sheriff winks and tips his hat. The double doors part around him, swinging even after he’s gone. Rue watches them until they’ve gone still, and then for a moment longer, not quite trusting that he’s gone. Not quite believing that he’s going to be gone for a whole two weeks. It’s too good to be true.

Two weeks without all his little, lingering caresses. Two weeks without hearing his voice say her name. Two weeks of not having him show up on her –well, his– front porch and ruin breakfast. Two weeks of his eyes not following her every move. She knows his posse will be filling in for him, but they’re lazy about it. They’ll maybe follow Deck’s orders to the letter for the first night or two, but they always end up getting tired of watching the ditzy server girl go to work and go home. Then she’ll have some real breathing room. A break.

Rue looses a long, long sigh. Grin genuine when those double doors stay closed.

Goddamnit, does she need a break.

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

“I know I ask ya to do this too much, but will you please, please close up for me?”

Rue, leaned into the bar and watching the night-dark world out the window, blinks and looks towards the beseeching voice –Hal’s. She hadn’t heard him approach, but he’s draped over the bar beside her, looking up at her with wide, puppy eyes the colour of coal.

“Those last two tables of yours are lingerin’, and I got a pretty fella waitin’ out back for me to get off.”

She mimics his dramatic pose, already leaning torso lying flat on the counter and her head propping upon her arm. She tries to match the look he gives her, but Hal’s too, damn good at pleading, puppy-dog eyes.

“Only if you make me those fancy muffins.” Rue might not be able to hold a candle to his eye expressions, but she nails the sad, entreating tone of voice.

Those begging eyes brighten with the smile that takes his mouth, and Hal’s upright quick as lightning. “That’s a done deal. Thank you so, so, so, so much.”

Rue returns the smile. “Not a problem.” She’s just happy one of them can get some action… and then she’s very jealous. Hal can just meet people and take a roll in the hay. Rue’s been working on the object of her affections for well over a year, and she still hasn’t managed so much as an ass grab or tit squeeze.

Hal’s out the back door in seconds, his departure accompanied by another round of profuse thanks. When he’s gone, the saloon goes near-quiet, the only sounds left that of the hushed chatter of her tables, the usual perversion from upstairs, and the soft, guitar plucking in Johnny Guitar filtering from the jukebox. Rue calls to her tables, telling them they can hang around as long as they please, but she’d like to go ahead and take care of their tabs unless they’re wanting another round of drinks. One table allows her to close out; the other wants another round of beers, and then they pay up. Both stay.

Rue resumes her ritual of window gazing, thinking about rope burns and hair tugging.

She’s unbelievably jealous of Hal. She’d ask him for tips if he wasn’t so blabbermouthy.

Rue doesn’t know how long passes, but she’s eventually pulled from her horny spacing out by two, harsh knocks against the bar –enough to shake the wood and her vision. She turns, her heart doing cartwheels in her chest and smile blooming fully.

The Ghoul sits across from her, dusty and impatient. His ensemble seems to have a few more patches to it, and almost his entirety is stained with rust smears. His hat is tipped back a touch, enough to allow her to admire the way Mulholland’s dim lighting paints the valleys and plains of his face. Deeper shadows. Bright, whiskey eyes. The no-nonsense set of his mouth.

Rue could swoon. She really could.

“Hey you.”

Hands gloved in leather, he taps at the bar twice with his pointer finger.

Rue gets him his whiskey, filling the stout tumbler to the brim and sliding it into his waiting hand. He drinks deep and slow, which could mean he’s in a good enough mood to savour or that it has been a long, long day. Not infuriating but exhausting. She'll find out soon enough which of the two it is.

In the meantime, she shamelessly watches his throat bob. He doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he pretends not to.

“I was startin’ to wonder if I’d see ya again.”

He sets the whiskey glass down; Rue tops it off.

“’There’s money to be made in Dust. I’ll keep comin’ ‘round ‘til it’s dried up.” He takes another slow pull, shorter this time. “And it will one day. Deck’s got himself some trouble brewin’ with a weapons manufacturer, and the hits he keeps puttin’ on ‘em ain’t doin’ nothin’ but pissin’ ‘em off.”

The Ghoul must be in a grand mood to tell her all that. Something so useful. So delightful –absolute music to her ears that inspires vivid imaginations of Deck being pumped full of holes while he's out. The grin Rue already wears stretches, and a contented sigh passes through her lips. “Gun Runners?”

“Smaller.” A quick sip of whiskey. “Think they’re callin’ themselves the Nightstalkers.”

“Cute.” Rue reaches into her pockets, feeling around for the Vials she keeps and placing seven onto the bar –along with a tied-off bundle of caps that have been junking up her pockets for over a month.

The gunslinger reaches for the cloth pouch before the Vials, browless brows netted curiously. He unties it and simply stares at the caps for a long moment before his eyes tick to her wordlessly.

“I didn’t want ‘em,” she tells him firmly, voice pitched soft just in case her tables aren't as lost in their own worlds as they appear to be. “That’s not what that was to me. I like ya. Plain and simple.”

He doesn’t say a word as he rakes the caps into his gloved hand and drops them in a duster pocket. The Vials follow. He goes back to sipping his whiskey.

And Rue goes back to smiling sweetness. “Oh! Someone told me what olives are the other day –they said they’re these little, oval fruits that are kinda salty. Really salty if they’ve gone black. But I’ve been keepin’ an eye out for ‘em since. Maybe one day a caravan’ll pass through with ‘em, and I can fix ya that fancy drink you want so bad. It’s mostly just gin, huh? Do ya want some gin next? You kinda look like you want gin tonight.”

The Ghoul sighs and shakes his head, polishing off his whiskey with a last, slow draw. “You’ve got somethin’ wrong in your heady, honey.” But the corner of his mouth curls slightly, and he doesn’t sound so aggravated or done with her when he says, “Get me the gin.”

Rue gets the gin; she fills the glass too full and leans into the bar, watching him drink and smiling lazily. She talks about nonsense. He doesn’t stop her. In fact, the Ghoul humours her a little bit when she starts talking about robot body parts by tossing in his two-caps about all that fancy metal not being worth shit. The right kind of gun and ammunition or know-how can make it useless –a hindrance. Deadly, even.

“Suppose, you’re right, but I don’t know that it much matters. Those things can kill me no matter if I’m fleshy or metal. …I’d probably be a lil’ harder to catch if I had robot legs. Think I’d be a bit harder to kill. Catch a bullet down there, and I wouldn’t have to worry about bleedin’ out or infections.”

“You ever end up goin’ Ghoul one of these days, and that’ll make ya harder to kill without all that other shit. I get shot, and I heal up quick.”

“Already have gone Ghoul,” Rue mutters, a faux-frustration to her voice as she traces patterns on the bar. Her eyes tick up to his, and with the mild confusion on his brow, she knows he hasn’t caught her drift yet. She sighs and props her cheek upon her fist. “But he thinks I’m tryin’ to trick him somehow.”

Confusion dissipates with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”

Rue leans further into the bar and bats her eyes all pretty-like up at him. “I’m tryin’ to be full of you.”

The Ghoul snorts behind the rim of his glass, the grin that takes his mouth a wicked thing. His drawl is dismissive and mean when he says, “Ya couldn’t handle me, sweetheart. Dick suckin’s one thing, but anything more, and I’d wreck you.”

The delight of the challenge, the prospect, curves Rue's lips. “Then wreck me, sweetheart.”

He pauses in what is likely to be the last sip from his glass, eyes flicking to her lips. Back to her eyes. It’s like she watches something spark to life in his, a building burn and heat. He tips his gin back slow.

Rue is pulled from his gaze when the doors to Mulholland’s part, a group of three she well recognizes walking in: Lucky, tall and broad; Yannis, shifty-eyed and jumpy; and Gus, droopy-faced and pale. All three are part of Deck’s posse, Lucky being his right-hand man while the other two are just goons. But they’re all effective, and she knows they’re here for her.

She takes a few steps back as nonchalantly as she can. She changes her smile and tone. She waves, greeting the three as old friends. “Hey boys! You here for a drink?”

Lucky sidles up to the bar, propping an elbow on it and offering her a kind smile. Truly, it is. Out of Deck’s whole posse, he’s the only one that seems truly decent and like he has half a conscience rattling in his skull. If she has to deal with any of them, she prefers it to be him. Especially when he's drunk and that conscience gets to gnawing at him -then his lips get loose, and he spills information Deck would kill him for sharing. Information that turned Rue's world upside down. 

“No ma’am. Just to check in on ya." He lets her know, "It’s way past time you shoulda been home.”

She cocks her head. “Is it?”

Lucky's grin stretches. “Rue, it’s about four in the mornin’.”

Rue blinks. She didn’t notice it was that late herself. She was too wrapped up in the Ghoul silently observing the conversation as he polishes off that last bit of gin.

“Oh! Shoot. Sorry. Y'know time gets away from me.”

“I know. It’s alright. I was just a little worried.”

Rue smiles bright, but then her eyes dart to the tables still lingering. She’s so grateful that they are. If it were just her and the Ghoul, this would be a different conversation and confrontation. “Um. Could ya help me shoo out the tables? I don’t wanna be mean to ‘em.”

Lucky nods and makes a motion for Yannis and Gus to handle it. “’Course, but that’s somethin’ Hal shoulda done an hour or more ago. Where’d he get off to?”

“Stomach ache,” Rue lies easily. “I told him I could wrap up, so he could get himself home.”

The right-hand man nods at that, and then turns his personable smile on the Ghoul. “Sorry, sir. It’s time to mosey, but come back and see us again.”

The Ghoul says nothing. He sets his glass down bottom-side-up on the bar and slides off the stool. He reaches into a duster pocket, pulls out a fistful of caps, and leaves them. The spurs of his boots jingle-jangle as he breezes out.

Rue sneakily watches him go as she moves to tidy things, plucking up his caps to tuck away in the till so Lucky can take it to the office for storage. So, she notices when his head turns as he parts the double doors. His gaze is shaded by the rim of his weathered, old hat, but Rue knows he’s looking her way when the corner of his mouth quirks –pulls into enough of a half-grin to show a bit of teeth.

Then he's gone, leaving Rue there with a brain going absolutely wild in her head and a mighty need to kiss that ruined mouth of his. 

[pinkpoweredpunk]

———

[AUDIO: A recorded conversation.

???: I’m not arguing about this with you, Bianca, we’re goin’ home!

Bianca: But papa-!

???: I heard about everything what happened in Castelia, about your Pokémon getting stolen, and your friends havin’ to get it back for you! Clearly I was right when I thought you weren’t ready for the world… it ain’t safe with these Plasma folk muckin’ about, so I’m taking you back!

Bianca: Papa, I know things have been kinda scary lately, but I’ve still been having fun! I’ve seen and learned so many new things, I’ve made so many new friends- I’m not ready to go home yet!

???: Well I’m decidin’ you are! Get in the car, we’re headin’ back right now. You can keep all your cute lil Pokémon and whatnot, but-

Blake: Sir, with all due respect-

???: You shush! Yer one of the people who convinced her to leave home in the first place, an’ clearly you were nothin’ but a bad influence on my girl! I don’t wanna hear nothing outta you!

Bianca: Don’t talk to my friend that way!

The two bicker back and forth, with Blake occasionally trying to chime in awkwardly, and failing to get much more than half a word in. At one point, though, the audio picks up the sound of heels clicking against concrete, and the voice of a woman is heard.

???: Now hold on there a moment there, sir.

Blake and Bianca gasp in unison.

Bianca: Gym Leader Elesa-?

Elesa: Sweetie, you just keep going on your travels. Sure, you’ve faced a few bumps in the road, but it’s clear you’ve got some strong friends there to help pick you back up when you fall.

???: Excuse me? You know nothin’ about my daughter! Mind your own business!

Elesa: It’s clear you don’t either, mister. This strong young woman has faced plenty of hardships so early on in her journey, and yet she’s still refusing to hang her head in defeat and go running back home. I think you’ve ought to have more faith in your daughter.

???: But- things have become so dangerous now, with Team Plasma runnin’ around! I won’t let her get caught up in it!

Bianca: I already am, papa! One of Blake’s Pokémon got hurt trying to save mine from them, and I refuse to give up until I’ve made it up to them!

Blake: Bianca…

Bianca: Maybe I can’t become as good a trainer as them or Cheren… but I’m still gonna fight for what’s right! And after that, I still want to travel and discover what path I wanna take in life… It might take a lot longer than I originally thought it would, sure, but I’m not gonna ever gonna figure out what it is if I stayed cooped up in Nuvema my entire life!

???: But… Bianca, sweetie, you don’t understand. The world ain’t a kind place, especially to little girls like you…

Elesa: You’re right, it isn’t. There’s a lot of people in this world, with lots of ways of thinking that may be different than yours… a lot of the time, that means you’ll wind up getting hurt. But it’s important to keep trying, to learn each other’s differences… and understand that being different is okay. It’s okay to worry, but no matter what happens, trainers like your daughter here have always got their Pokémon by their sides to look after them. They’re wonderful creatures, you know. They’re cute and strong, sure, but you can depend on them, too.

???: …

Bianca: …Papa, I thank you for always trying to look out for me growing up. Especially since I had a hard time, what with focusing in school and making friends… but I’m okay now. I have a team of wonderful Pokémon, and two incredible best friends looking out for me. So… let me keep adventuring and helping fill out Professor Juniper’s Pokédex. Please…?

???: …Oh, alright…

???: Bianca… I’m sorry. You’ve clearly matured a lot since ya left home. I just… when I saw the news, and heard all the updates the professor was sendin’ me, I went into panic mode…

???: I was a lot like you as a kid. I was fickle, struggled with focusin’ on one thing at a time… Lots o’ people ridiculed me for it. I tried goin’ on a journey when I was your age to prove ‘em wrong, but it didn’t work out the way I was hoping… I just couldn’t stand the thought o’ the same thing happenin’ to you. But clearly, you’re doin’ just fine for yourself out here.

Bianca: It’s okay, papa, I understand. Thanks for givin’ me another chance...

???: Of course, baby. But, wherever this journey ends up taking you… try to come home from time to time, alright…? Me ‘n your mama miss you.

Bianca: Absolutely! I’ll make sure to call more often, too. I miss both of you just as much.

???: Thank you, pumpkin. I love you.

Bianca: I love you too, papa.

Elesa: I’m glad to see that’s resolved. Parents so often project their fears onto their children… they mean well, but it sure can end up holding them back a lot in life. It can become a cycle, too, so I’m glad to see that girl standing up for herself. It’s good to see her pops accepts her, too… Not everyone’s lucky to have parents willing to own up to their mistakes like that.

Blake: Yeah…

———

[spotsupstuff]

"with the nature of her and Euros' relationship this often times results with the Inspectors yoinking her to play or cuddle with"

Imagining some inspectors hauling Sparrows into a zero-g section of his structure for cuddles and/or watching her spin futilely for their own amusement lol.

Speaking of - is there any particular mechanic equipment designed to help traverse the zero-g sections of an Iterator, or are the mechanics expected to stay Well Away from those areas for safety reasons and only enter when the gravity is enabled?

i imagine that like... 80% of the whole structure is constantly in 0g with the rest of 20% havin the low kind of gravity that we see In Pebs' labs for the sake of easier travel of the mobile components, so turning off the gravity disruptors wouldn't be beneficial for shite especially for long periods of time

the Mechanics get a LOT of training in 0g to figure out the best movement for themselves. the Ancients in general r better wired in the brains for the movement than slugcats thanks to being originally water animals (Rivulet in my heart can better traverse Pebbles than other slugcats too, after they figure out the differences between floating in water and floating in 0g)

But! indeed there are some mechanical stuff that help them out. both Sparrows regular boots and the boots for the special suit have magnets in the soles (?)

i don't REALLY have it figured out visually all that well, but one can turn those on n off

the Mechanic's watch is able to send out... not really a "distress" signal in this case, but like "hey help out here will ya" signal that mobile/capable components can n will answer. like an Inspector comin in to watch out for her just in case while working on the transform arrays (endlessly affectionate bout Inspectors savin the player's ass from hazards even though i haven't experienced it myself yet), or one of those red floaty noodle things twisting themselves that way and the other so she can grab on and right herself or propel herself forwards

i've also thought about possibly using the breathing mask equipment for movement in the sense that the tube that connects the face mask with the gill mask could be unscrewed and propel her forward with air but like........ there isn't exactly much of a strong airflow in there to cause such movement so 😔 guess nu

it's mostly about knowing the movement n being clever about it (+routing so you pop out from the tunnels closest to the goal) and the magnetic shoes

oh, but a fun thing for travel around the structure in general! i'll mention it here since it's at least a lil connected

to be able to get around the whole giant structure without needing to like. camp out in multiple spots and actually get shit done, there are specialized tunnels for fast transport of defensive components like for example the Inspectors again. they are comparable to lymphatic system in human body and inspired by the sea currents of the Ancients' original home. Mechanics and Admins, posing as something of a supreme white cells from the outside (antibiotics could work as a comparison too???) in the structure to human body comparison, can use these tunnels freely as much as they want to

[r-ene]

I was funny yesterday

Ever since i got into high school i didn't really care much about what i hear (negative things etc etc) and i don't cry much unless alone or one of our dogs passed - didn't even cry when my dad got into a car accident on 2019 or when i got humiliated by my 5th grade math teacher by havine me stand the whole class because i couldn't get the answer right and the school journal club went to take a pic of our class and she allowed to have my picture taken in that state

but yesterday after our lecture at the hospital, we talked about merits and demerits and out of nowhere our preceptor suddenly said "rene you have no initiative" and for some reason it became a trigger ??? i overthinked if i really don't have any initiative but since this is my first rotation ever i played it safe the first few days but actually i was already confident doing basic treatments on my own day 2 onwards

then, idk, i feel its bc of the exhaustion as well from having a max of 4hrs of sleep on a daily when i have hospital duty: waking up 2/230 am, traveling from 430-530 to get to the hospital 30mins earlier than our call time then logging off at 230pm, getting home at nearly 6pm

and lately ive been battling w myself as an introvert and socially... awkward ?? Idk person, ive been doing my best to talk to patients and their guardians/caretakers whenever i do treatments to ask how they are, entertain questions, go to the nurse's station to ask for an update on the patient's things etc etc and i was assigned to rehab the last 3 days, it meant a longer time to talk to each px

actually handled 2 px on my own, which im pretty proud of but ofc i wasnt able to really make the sessions fun as i wanted to but im trying hard to crack up a conversation or a joke here and there. the staff at rehab made it easier tho, everyone's so very nice and patient with teaching me stuff and i actually don't want to leave there bc it's become my safe space already

anw to continue after overthinking what my preceptor had as an example w a serious tone, i broke down once i stepped outside our unit HAHAHAHAHHAHA grateful for my fellow co-interns for protecting me and comforting me. another one of my safe spaces as of now.

i need to enroll myself to emotional management programs

[anx1oustig3r]

“After you, my dear,” the fairy chirps, her voice is a stark contrast to how she presents herself. While she speaks in a high, melodic song, she stands before Lina in a suit so sharp it would put the finest of aristocratic gentlemen to shame. Her bony hand is outstretched into the tavern, and Lina playfully curtsies in response.

“Why thank you, handsome,” she purrs, feeling incredibly smug as a dark pink blush forms on Mireska’s face, covering her freckles. Handsome, at first it had been strange to call her handsome - admittedly the rather restrictive culture she had grown up in, both in Misrule and especially the Helio Imperium, had had a heavy impact on her. Now, however, it comes to her as naturally as the word ‘hello’, and for good reason too, Mireska is very handsome.

A couple of heads turn as they make their way to an unoccupied booth, the standard drunken men who are all too eager to throw unwanted winks and comments, but their open mouths clamp shut when they get a good look at her companion. Lina looks up at Mireska who has her fangs bared in a mocking smile. There had been comments before, fools who would remark that she should ‘pick one and stick with it’. Others had demanded Lina to ‘try a real man and not some cheap imitation’. Of course they had been silenced fast by fireballs to the face and hanging upside down by a bramble snare, but the experiences often left her apprehensive walking into a tavern.

If it bothered Mireska, she was very good at hiding it, still grinning as they slide into their seat side by side. The fairy puts a spindly arm around her and pulls her in close, which Lina welcomes with a contented sigh. They had been travelling together for only a couple of months, but those months had been the most normal she had felt in … well in her life really. Sure it had been hard to adjust to the fairy’s … unconventional lifestyle, but after the first month it was like clockwork. Visit a new city, let Mireska off her leash to get them some gold, sight see, get into trouble with the law then run like hells. She had to admit it was nice getting to see the world, she could never have dreamed of this as Shabarrah’s human weapon.

“Whiskey,” Mireska announces and Lina jumps, realising a waiter had approached them. Mireska is going for her old reliable, and Lina decides to be a little bit cute.

“You don’t happen to have Molten Red, do you?” She asks. The waiter nods, casting a questioning look between the two of them, although he keeps his trap shut for his own sake as he paces off to the bartender.

“Molten Red?” Mireska asks with a chuckle, “Are ye tryin’ to cause me war flashbacks?”

Lina gives her a gentle nudge.

“I thought it’d be funny,” she says. “Since you tried it ten months ago.”

Mireska’s eyes widen and she tugs at the collar of her shirt.

“Ten months?” She cocks her head, antennae flopping gently. “Ach! Sure time flies when yer havin’ fun!”

Mutterings catch Lina’s attention and she looks out, aware of some patrons pointing at them and shaking their heads. She catches the words ‘wrong’ and ‘disgraceful’. Mireska notices too, her antennae perk at their voices.

“Does it bother you too?” Lina asks. The fairy snorts although there’s a tremble in her voice when she speaks.

“Ah, I’m used to it,” she says. “It’s insecurity on their end, I’m all too comfortable in meself an’ it drives them mental!”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Lina wraps her arms around herself, feeling the other patrons gazes burning into her skin and she can feel that unbearable itch to scorch the earth writhing underneath it. Mireska pulls her in tighter and her voice is gentle in her ear over the chatter of the tavern.

“Hey,” she coos. “I wish I had your confidence! Yer the one sendin’ them all packin’ with one blast of fire!”

“It’s hardly confidence, just aggression.”

Mireska simply shrugs.

“Potato potato.”

Molten Red burns the throat in all the right ways, Lina could never imagine a better drink and beside her, Mireska is shaking her head.

“I dunno how ye down that,” she says.

“I don’t know how you down that,” Lina responds, nodding to her mug of whiskey. Mireska takes a long swig of it without flinching and smirks back at her.

“Well whiskey’s actually lovely,” she says. “One o’ the best poisons money can buy-“

She’s promptly interrupted by approaching men and isn’t that a treat? Their night is about to get ruined. Lina takes a deep breath and balls her fists, trying to quell the fire rapidly increasing in size in her veins. Mireska is eyeing them too, although she’s clearly scanning for any loose change they may be carrying.

“Hey!” One of them barks, Lina can smell the alcohol on his breath from where she’s sitting. “What are you?!”

He’s pointing right at Mireska who frowns back at him, her lip curls and reveals her fangs.

“A faerie,” she says, attempting to lower her voice but the man’s companion lets out a laugh.

“That’s a chick!” He nudges his friend, “You guys inverts or what?”

Mireska lets out a hiss so ferocious that shadowcats would run in terror. Lina’s done trying to bury the fire in order to avoid a scene.

“I’ll fuckin’ batter yis!” She snarls, “C’mere an’ say that again! I dare ye!”

Lina knows what Mireska is up to, and the man leans across the table, glaring right into her green eyes with a mocking sneer.

“Invert!”

Lina jumps up like a shot, launching her forehead right into his nose. Pain ricochets through her skull but years of training means she shrugs it off while he falls backwards clutching his face. She’s quick to bring the fire out, pinning him down and raining burning punches while he howls. Mireska has his friend, clawing his eyes and swiping him, fighting the old fashioned way as she put it.

As quickly as the fight started, they’re grabbed by guards and tossed out of the city. Mireska fires two middle fingers up at the gate as it’s slammed shut.

“Is that how yis wanna be?!” She screeches, “Well joke’s on the lotta yis! I didn’t pay me tab, ye shower o’ gobshites!”

Lina places a hand on her shoulder, the fire ebbing away as the adrenaline wears off, rapidly replaced by growing shame.

“Are you alright?” She asks. Mireska turns and spits blood into the grass.

“I hate that word,” she grunts, a fury that seemed to span back years twisting her face. Lina wraps her arms gently around her.

“I hate it too,” she tries to sound soothing but her voice only shakes. “What’ll we do now?”

Mireska is quiet for a moment, resting her chin on top of her head.

“We could go fish for bottle ends in the outskirt district?” The chirp returns to her voice, although Lina can tell when she’s forcing it. However it doesn’t stop the chuckle from escaping her.

“How romantic!” She looks back up at her. “You’re such a gentleman, do you know that?”

“More of a gentleman than most fellas,” Mireska shakes her head with a hearty tut. Lina brings a hand up to her face.

“But that’s what I love about you.”

[eternclsunshine]

🌴 closed starter | welcome to love island, @gccdwitch ! 🌺

Now that everyone's arrived and gathered near the fireplace with a glass of champagne, the hostess has instructed everyone to go around and introduce themselves before coupling up.

Confidently and swiftly, Aisha raises a manicured finger in the air. "I'll go first!" She then takes a sip of champagne before starting her introduction. "I'm Aisha, I'm 28 years old, and I do a lot of philanthropy work. I travel pretty often because of it, but I was born and raised in Calabasas. I haven't been super lucky in love, so I'm here to find a meaningful connection - kind of like a lover and best friend all in one! Someone super fun and easy going would be perfect, so they match my energy."

Being the next person in rotation, Miyoung placed her glass of champagne down and sat herself up. "I'm Miyoung, 23 years old, and from Seoul, South Korea. I'm staying in L.A. right now to work on my acting career, which is super exciting for me!" towards the end of her sentence she giggles, smiling with beaming pride. "Back in Korea I spent all of my childhood working as an actress and model, so I've never had a chance to be in a relationship. But I really would love to experience it." she adds shyly.

Next, "Nice to meet you all, I'm Travis and I'm 27 years old," He smiles, "For starters I'm from Ohio and I'm kind of a creative freelancer. Right now I do a lot of camera work and editing - I mostly help out my buddy make music videos. My life is very laid back and and all about havin' fun in the moment. I'm lookin' for someone spontaneous, go with the flow."

"Cheers everyone! So great to see you - I'm feeling on fire right now!" Claudio laughs and raises his champagne glass. "My name is Claudio, I come from Rio de Janeiro and I am 28 years old. I like to introduce myself as dangerous, confident, good looking - of course - and passionate!" he's very bold in his introduction, but decides to tone it down for his next line. "I got out of a long relationship over a year ago. It's been hard but I'm finally open to finding new love again."