#this ain’t Alabama hours

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Twenty-Two- Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapters 1-21 on the Masterlist! :)

Chapter Twenty-Two - Haggard, Jennings, and Strait

You had just left the gas station a couple of hours away from the small town where Auntie B lived, starting your journey to your parent's house. While you were filled with excitement, you were also quite nervous. You hadn’t brought any man home to your parents since your ex, Derek. Your parents were in love with Derek more than you think you were. They viewed him as the perfect boyfriend for you. He was pursuing a law degree and planned to have his firm in the Big Apple. 

Your parents listened to you, but there were times you felt your words landed on deaf ears for what you wanted in life. Every parent wants their child to be happy and successful in life, but everyone views success differently. 

While accelerating onto the highway, you leaned against the armrest and gripped the wheel tightly. In all honesty, it wasn’t just nerves you were feeling; you were scared, too. 

Tyler decided to lean his seat back and put his hat to cover his face, in hopes of taking a brief nap. You slid one of your earbuds into your right ear and selected a random playlist from your ever-growing list of music. The piano intro of Merle Haggard’s ‘That’s the Way Love Goes’ flooded your ear. You hummed along softly, but it was one of your favorite songs of Merle’s so it was hard to not sing along. 

“That’s the way love goes, babe, that’s the music God made, for all the world to sing, it’s never old, it grows,” you sang softly,  “Losing makes me sorry, you say, honey, now don’t worry, don’t you know I love you too, and that’s the way love goes.” 

Little did you know, Tyler was not asleep beside you but was listening to you the whole time. You grew up listening to Haggard, Jennings, and Strait so it brought you back to a time when life was simpler. 

Your phone dinged and your phone read it to you in your ear.

“A text from Mom, hey honey, what time do you think you will be at Uncle Oliver’s? Say what you’d like to respond with.” 

“In an hour or so,” you said, “Who’s driving the truck and trailer?” 

After it was sent, the fiddle on ‘Amarillo By Morning’ took over. You slightly started to rock your shoulders while listening, your fingers tapping the beat of the song on the steering wheel. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tyler shuffle, glancing over you noticed he was disconnecting your phone from your ear bud and connecting it to the truck. 

“What? I like this song, too,” he said, turning the volume up.

“Ah, okay,” you laughed softly. 

“They took my saddle in Houston, broke my leg in Santa Fe, lost my wife and a girlfriend somewhere along the way,” he sang, sitting up in his seat, “But I’ll be lookin’ for eight when they pull that gate and I hope that judge ain’t blind. Amarillo by mornin’, Amarillo’s on my mind.” 

“I never took you for much of a singer, Owens,” you said, turning the radio down slightly. 

“Auntie B and my Mom would always have music playing, no matter the time,” he said, “Especially if it was classic country. They always played Alabama and Johnny Cash.” 

“Sounds like my household,” you chuckled, “Hence why my boys are named Waylon and Willie.” 

“Same for Cash, ain’t that right, bud?” He asked, turning around and seeing his dog passed out in the backseat peacefully. 

“He’s had a lot of excitement the last 24 hours, babe,” you said, “Let the poor pup sleep.” 

“I know,” he said softly, reaching his hand over and placing it on yours, “My last few days have been a lot of excitement, too.” 

“I bet, you’re with one crazy lady,” you laughed. 

“The only thing she doesn’t know is that I’m crazier,” he laughed. 

Your phone dinged again, this time it playing over the truck sound system. 

“A text from Mom, your father planned on having you drive and use your truck, then we’d have your boyfriend help out with some of the manual labor. You know we have to see if he is even worth your time. Say what you’d like to respond with.”

You pressed the button on the screen to not send a reply. 

“Well that isn’t embarrassing at all,” you groaned, rubbing your forehead while turning off the main highway. 

“It’s okay, they just want to see if I’m good enough for you,” he said, “Normal protective parenting.” 

“That’s what you think,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Just wait until they bring up my ex and won’t stop talking about them.” 

“Why do they like him so much since he broke your heart?” Tyler asked, squeezing your hand gently. 

“Because in their eyes he was the perfect boyfriend,” you mocked your parent's tone, “Meanwhile our relationship was far from perfect. I’m glad he cheated, even though it did give me trust issues.” 

“Okay, now I’m lost,” he said, leaning to be facing you slightly. 

“As much as my parents viewed him as perfect, after year two I was starting to fall out of love with him. We would fight, a lot and about the dumbest things. I’d want to go listen to bands and dance in downtown Salado, yet he would want to go to the city and bar-hop with his college friends,” you said, your mind going back to how those days made you feel, “He’d be gone to the cities for a whole weekend if not longer sometimes. He never helped out with the farm chores when we’d go to my parents. It’d just be that his soft little hands can’t get rough, it doesn’t look good in a courtroom.” 

“Was he going to be a judge or something?” Tyler asked.

“Lawyer,” you said, “My parents viewed him as going to be quite successful and would make me happy my whole life. So, I swallowed my pride and stayed with him to make them happy.” 

“Why though? If you were miserable,” he started to say.

“Because back then I was a people pleaser,” you snapped, “And others abused that so I’ve been working on not being one.” 

“I see,” he said quietly. 

“But what I view as being happy isn’t what they view, so I just suffered until I had an actual reason to leave him,” you said, pulling into a rest stop and putting the truck in park. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that for that long, baby,” he said softly, reaching over and moving a piece of hair from your face. 

“It is what it is, Ty,” you sighed, resting your forehead on the top of the steering wheel, “I’ve moved past it to what actually makes me happy.” 

“I make you happy?” He asked, a smirk coming to his face. 

“Yes, you dummy,” you said while sitting up and smacking his chest lightly, “I wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled, kissing the back of your hand. 

“Are you okay to drive? I need to text my mom that we’ll be there in twenty and I need to calm down so I don’t lose it the next couple of days,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. 

“Anything for you babe,” he said, “I��d rather not have to bail you out of jail.” 

“I wouldn’t kill anyone, just say some not-nice things,” you said, opening your door and sliding out of your seat. 

“That’s what they all say,” he chuckled, getting out of his side of the truck to go around to the driver's side. 

While you messaged your mom back that you’d be there soon, you leaned the seat back slightly and rubbed your face with your fingers. There was a reason you rarely visited your family, and this was it. The home wasn’t a happy place anymore without James there. Your view of life changed, along with what priorities you had. You moved to stay focused on one thing and one thing only. Yourself.

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg @nerdgirljen @winterassassin1804 @smoothdogsgirl @xbox5angelx @ifilwtmfc @djs8891 @watashiwababy

[ofthecaravel]

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1: Thoroughfare

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: Danny, en route to California to find love, picked up small town runaway Sam on a Texas thoroughfare and has been on the road ever since. While Sam adjusts to life as himself, Danny's wondering if he's found love without even leaving the South.

Tags: Religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, Anxiety, very sweet little crushes, idk all very soft when its not Tense

Words: 5.4k

A/N: HEAVILYYYYYY inspired by Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain, even borrowed a lyric here and there. Any and all credit to my beloved Hayden. First chapter of ??? maybe 4?? but I haven't decided. There's going to be more mention of Sam's questionable Southern Baptist Christian upbringing in those and I understand that may not be everyone's cup of tea so feel free to scroll if that may be upsetting for you.

~~

“Do you think we’re gonna get arrested?”

Over the gentle splash of the thin, chlorinated water, Sam heard Danny’s long sigh. Usually he laughed at all of Sam’s misplaced little comments and queries, but sometimes he just sighed. Sam knew he didn’t mean anything harsh by it, but it definitely didn’t feel good. 

“Not if you don’t say anything,” Danny answered plainly. A smile ghosted his tired face as he rotated to face Sam, who stared back as he awkwardly bobbed with his long hair trailing behind him like a veil. After however many dusty miles and state lines they’d crossed, it always felt good when they had a motel to crash at instead of the cramped cabin of Danny’s pickup. And it felt twice as good when the motel had a pool, especially when it was nice and late at night and there was no one else around. Sam wasn’t much of a swimmer, but he was happy to tread water and watch Danny float. His broad chest would peek just over the surface of the water and his eyes would close while his dark curls moved like the fingers of lazy clouds. 

Yeah, Sam was happy to watch that. 

“It doesn’t feel right,” Sam murmured, watching his fingers flex anxiously under the water in the refracted view the harsh fluorescents provided. With the country sky full of nothing but mosquitoes and the occasional whistling breeze, the yellowing pool lights were the only thing illuminating them. Sam felt suddenly self conscious thinking of how washed out he must look in this rare moment where he was the one being watched. He turned to the side, only offering Danny his profile. 

“They won’t know the credit card ain’t mine until we’re in Arizona,” Danny insisted in a hushed voice. “And even then, I didn’t give the desk my real name. We’re golden if you can keep that mouth of yours shut. Can you do that for me, cowboy?”

“Sure I can.” Sam bristled, but knew Danny’s request was justified. Ever since Danny had taken pity on him and picked him up on that thoroughfare back in Texas, Sam never seemed to be able to do the right thing. He had gotten as far as he had in an attempt to remove himself from the suppressing influence of his uber religious hometown, but so far it seemed like he was still dragging it along with him. It was an embarrassing first impression to leave on someone as great as Danny was turning out to be, but he hadn’t left Sam behind yet, so Sam figured he must have some redeeming qualities that kept him around.

“Atta boy,” Danny smiled, his eyes closing as he lolled his head back and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. “Christ alive, I needed this. How long do you think we drove today?”

“5 hours?” Sam guessed, thinking back on the day. “Felt longer ‘cause of the sun.”

“Damn that sun,” Danny cursed. “Burned the hell out of my nose, too.”

“We can get lotion or something at the next gas station,” Sam offered. Truthfully, he found the ruddy blush on Danny’s nose and freckled cheeks extremely flattering, but he knew it had to hurt. Growing up in Alabama, Sam knew a thing or two about sunburn.

“With what money?” Danny laughed humorlessly, sighing again and running a hand over his face. “Although at this point, I’d be willing to skip a dinner to get my hands on some lotion. Mm. Not that I don’t appreciate your presence, but...” 

Sam blinked blankly, feeling an implication pass him by like they often did. He didn’t say anything in return and sank a little further into the pool, trying not to feel even more stupid than he already did. Being tired certainly wasn’t helping, but he was really starting to feel the weight of all of his graceless actions from the past week pile on him as they swam in silence. Hopefully Danny would want to head up to their room soon and Sam could just try again the next day.  

Danny noticed Sam’s silence and opened his heavy eyes to observe him with a worried look. Sam’s neck was craned and the sharp point of his nose grazed the water as he continued to stare into the palms of his submerged hands. He was halfway to prayer by the looks of it, and Danny guessed that probably wasn’t too far from the truth. It was a state of mind Sam never really seemed to leave. Danny remembered the scandalized look on Sam’s face when they’d shared their first diner meal together and Danny had picked his fork right up and gotten to work when the waitress had brought their plates. Now he knew to wait and let Sam save them with a quick round of grace before eating. Sam had never asked for his hand to hold when doing it, but somewhere between the Texas border and New Mexico, Danny had offered it up and they’d been doing it that way ever since. It sure made it a hell of a lot more tolerable for Danny to wait for Sam’s long winded recitations with his slender hand in Danny’s. He really didn’t mind too much, especially after he’d begun collecting little glimpses of the seemingly excruciating evangelical life that Sam had left behind in Alabama. Danny didn’t pry, but there was a lot about Sam that he didn’t know. He watched Sam lit up in the pale, shifting luminance coming from the pool and realized with a strange, absent pang that he wanted to know. Maybe all of it, actually.

“Not a star in the sky,” Danny commented dreamily, tilting his neck back to stare at the pitch black sky after another long minute of staring at Sam left him feeling flushed. “It was always easy to pick ‘em out when I was on the farm, but I really have to squint when I’m in cities sometimes. It’s a crying shame.”

“We had to have all the lights out in town at a certain time so I always got to see the stars,” Sam replied in a small voice. “My brothers were always looking for Castor and Pollux, but we got lost after finding Orion every single time. Always forgot whether to look up or down or west or what.”

Sam smiled at the memory, remembering watching his older brothers bicker in whispers in front of the window while pressing fingers to the glass and eventually calling Sam in for help. Their parents fell asleep fast and heavy, so nights were usually when he and his siblings really got to be themselves. Sam found himself tired during the days almost all the time, but he’d carried his drooping eyelids with a bounce in his step. Even on the rare instances when he dozed off during study or services, he’d take a ruler to the knuckles with a smile. 

“I’ve always been partial to Orion,” Danny agreed, searching it out as he said it. “Probably because it’s easy to find and I’m a simple man when it comes to stuff like that.”

“You’re plenty smart,” Sam complimented. He finally lifted his head from his gloomy stance, his ear resting on his shoulder as he turned his smile on Danny. “Especially with maps. We’d be halfway to Argentina if I were the one navigating.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Danny laughed. “We can go there after we find love in California, how about that?”

“Perfect,” Sam complied, feeling a familiar sour rush of adrenaline when reminded of their end goal. It was ignorant to feel shocked over and over when he thought about it, especially considering that talk of Danny’s unknown Californian love were some of the first words Danny had ever said to him. Danny had pulled up next to Sam on the side of the road in his beat up pick up truck, told him not to run, and asked if he wanted to go see the West with him.

“‘Cause love’s out there,” Daniel had explained after Sam had hopped right in. “And I can’t leave it be.”

And Sam had agreed. Out of luck to spend and no more energy in his body to spend on walking, it was the perfect escape. It still was. It’s just that the more time he shared with Danny, the more he disliked the thought of Danny sharing time with anyone other than him. Sam was suddenly very sure he was greedy and selfish and wicked, and he made plans to pray on it after Danny had gone to sleep.

“Smart,” Danny echoed with an airy laugh, finally lifting his hair from the water and shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know about all that. If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure I’d be the muscle of the operation.”

“I guess that’d make sense. How much can you lift?” 

Danny gave Sam a mischievous look and shrugged, hoping the smirk creeping onto his face didn’t give away his plans for what he’d do next.

“Not sure,” Danny answered coolly. “How much do you weigh?”

Before Sam could respond, Danny rushed forward as fast as the water allowed and grabbed Sam around the waist, boosting him up with a noisy splash. Sam shrieked initially, but it gave way to a surprised laugh, every nerve alight with buzzing heat as Danny lifted him up. Danny could only manage to keep him up for another few moments before buckling at the knee from the close contact, allowing Sam a little time to plug his nose before Danny dunked him under.

Sam met the shifting blur of the pale water and felt a jarring, overwhelming peace as the water swallowed all sound and sensation and he began to sink to the bottom. For a second, he thought he might like to stay there forever, just floating and free from everything he didn’t understand about what was happening to him, what had already happened. What he wanted to happen. 

Sam didn’t even feel the sizzle of his lungs begging for air until he opened his eyes best he could and saw the blur of what was waiting for him up above.        

Now, Sam had obviously been far too young for him to remember his baptism, but as he brought himself back to consciousness and pushed himself out of the water and into Danny’s arms, he imagined it was a similar experience. Without really thinking, his arms went around Danny’s neck and he breathed in a great, shuddering gasp, desperately filling his chest with air as Danny’s arms reflexively wrapped around him and kept Sam pinned to his chest as he coughed.

“Fuck, Sam, did you forget to breathe?” Danny whispered urgently, resisting the urge to shout and wake the other motel patrons. “I mean, pardon my French, but you scared the shit out of me for a second there!”

“Sorry,” Sam choked out as he began to control his breathing and let it give way to an embarrassed laugh. “I got distracted for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely say you were coming up on a minute!” Danny sputtered, patting Sam’s back in a last ditch effort to knock any water loose. “I’ve never seen anyone go that long underwater. Good lord. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise,” Sam insisted, leaning back to flash Danny a sincere look of assurance. Curiously, he didn’t feel the need to unlock his arms from behind Danny’s neck when doing so. In the same way, Danny didn’t feel the need to release his grip on Sam, keeping their bare chests flush as Sam comically mimicked drawing in deep breaths and releasing them to demonstrate his capability.

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Danny relented, despite the anxiety still fluttering in his chest. “Just don’t scare me like that again. I get nervous enough when you’re out of my sight, and now you’re telling me I gotta worry about you when you’re right in front of me? Phew.” 

“What do you mean you get nervous when I’m out of your sight?” Sam laughed, his dark brow crinkling inquisitively as his stomach gave a little flip. 

“Just worried you’ll get to wandering,” Danny replied with faux nonchalance. “Don’t want some lawless vagabond picking you off the street.”

“Ain’t that what you did?” 

Danny tossed his head back and let out a loud laugh, knowing he needed to be much quieter than he was but doing nothing to rectify it. Sam burst into a round of hushed giggles and attempted to put his hands over Danny’s mouth as he shushed him theatrically. They goodnaturedly tussled  for a minute before Danny finally let Sam go, pushing him back and looking away with a nervous laugh still running its course in his chest.

“I got enough law in me to keep an eye on you,” Danny continued on, flicking his wrist lightly to splash Sam. “Can’t have you leaving me to drive the rest of the way on my own.”

“Well, I only ever leave if there’s not much worth staying for,” Sam muttered. It wasn’t entirely true when considering the importance of what he’d left behind in favor of hitchhiking aimlessly in pressing Texan heat, namely his family. He felt guilty saying it, but Danny took his words with pillow softness. His laugh melted into a shy smile that fell on Sam like a kiss on the forehead. 

“Lucky me, I suppose,” Danny smiled, punching Sam gently on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best to make the rest of the trip worth staying for.”

“You won’t have to try too hard,” Sam replied sincerely. “I’m having a lot of fun so far.”

“Yeah?” Danny questioned with an amused arch of his eyebrow. “You’re having fun coughing up dust in the passenger seat of a beat up truck that doesn’t work half the time? You’re having fun having to share flat, suspiciously stained motel beds with some sorry hick you met two weeks ago?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrible,” Sam laughed. “But it is fun. It’s the in-between stuff that’s fun.” 

“Like what?” Danny prodded, giving Sam another playful little splash. 

He asked without any real pressure, but there was a big part of Danny that really needed to know if he was making this spontaneous road trip a good time for Sam. It seemed a little ridiculous to some extent considering that when Danny set off, he wasn’t expecting any kind of lingering company in the slightest. At the end of the day, Sam was a borderline neurotic runaway that Danny had taken a chance on after some strange gut feeling had told him to take a left and not a right while driving aimlessly. But at the same time, Danny was really starting to like him. It both confused and warmed him.

“I don’t know!” Sam sputtered. “It’s always fun to look through gas stations for stupid knick knacks. That mood ring keychain was pretty cool, you have to admit.” 

Danny only laughed in response. The tacky keychain had pretty obviously been for kids, but with the way Sam’s eyes had lit up when he pressed his thumb to the heat reactive surface, Danny had found that fact the least important part of the equation.

“It’s fun when the diner menus have stupid names for the sandwiches,” Sam continued, feeling increasingly more embarrassed talking about himself. “And I definitely have fun when I get to listen to my station on the radio.”

“And you can continue to have that fun in half hour intervals,” Danny asserted, trying not to roll his eyes while recalling Sam’s beloved church music station. “Anything else?”

“Hmm. This is pretty fun,” Sam answered with a quick, impish shrug. “Even though you tried to drown me.”

“Hey!” Danny scoffed while Sam sailed into another round of delighted giggles. “I’ll show you drowning!”

Danny reached out and they wrassled again, a flurry of arms and bickering laughter as Danny pretended to try and dunk Sam under the water. Once again, Sam’s arms went around Danny’s neck as they struggled, and once again he made no move to remove them when Danny slowed. However, this time around, when Sam felt the careless adrenaline fueling him with a whisper of unknown courage, he seized it and gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek. It was no more than 2 seconds of his lips on Danny’s slightly stubbled skin, but it struck Danny like a slap to the face. Sam released his grip on him and gave him a good natured smile. 

“Seriously, this is so fun,” Sam insisted. “But we’ll never sleep if we keep being rowdy. Bed?”

“Good thinking,” Danny replied a little too quickly, successfully fighting a quiver in his voice and letting out a silent, choked sigh when Sam turned his back on him and started making his way to the edge of the pool. Facing away from Danny allowed Sam a moment to let his innocent, grateful gesture sink in. He began to panic slightly, rushing out a hurried mental prayer that Danny hadn’t taken it the wrong way. Sam almost turned to apologize, but decided it would be more awkward if he did, instead electing to haul himself out of the pool and grab his towel as if nothing out of the ordinary was raging inside his head.

Meanwhile, Danny definitely wasn’t taking it the wrong way. But he was taking it in a very surprising way. Feeling sudden and immense guilt, he realized that he was really going to have to book it to the hook where his towel hung in order to cover the “reaction” he was having to Sam’s little kiss. Thankfully, he was able to make it without Sam seeing. Danny felt grateful for his Southern charm when Sam finally did turn his doe eyed smile back on him and Danny was able to steer their conversation in a new direction as they walked to their room and he kept his towel tightly wound around his waist.

-

But neither one of them really recovered from it. Something so small and instantaneous weighed heavily in the back of their minds as they went about their separate nighttime routines and turned away from each other when Danny turned the light off. 

After an infuriating hour of staring up at the flaking ceiling and listening to the muffled whistle of a keening wind outside the window, Sam finally heard Danny begin to snuffle and sigh, signifying sleep. He released a pent up sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he tried to manifest sleep. A few hours prior he had been nearly nodding off at dinner, but now that he was alone in the inviting dark with Danny, it was hard to keep his eyes closed. Usually he whispered himself to sleep with psalms that lulled him into a fuzzy, dreamless void, but it felt wrong to do so with the imagery pervading his mind. None of it was graphic, simply a replay of how it felt to float in Danny’s arms. And how safe he felt with Danny’s hand on his back. How the feeling of his mouth on Danny’s cheek made him wonder how it would feel if it were the other way. How it would’ve felt if Danny had picked that moment to turn slightly, causing Sam to catch his lips instead of his stubble. 

It was shameful, but Sam felt himself tensing and carefully guiding each muscle so that he could turn over to lay on his side facing Danny’s back. Unable to lay alone with his thoughts any longer, he decided that the sight of the body next to him would be enough to quell the uncomfortable desire in his chest that was beginning to frighten him slightly. However, he was startled to find that Danny had turned over at some point as well. Sam’s heart flitted and jabbed at him from his ribcage as he took in the sight of Danny’s cheek pressed to the pillow, his mouth ever so slightly ajar as he drew in deep breaths. He was laying on his chest, and Sam fought the urge to trace the swells of muscles in his arms as they came to cross underneath the pillow beneath his head. There was a needling, demanding pull in Sam’s stomach now, one that yanked and strained the longer Sam took in the sight of Danny’s placid, perfect face in the spectral moonlight. It puppeteered him to slide a trembling hand up and delicately cup Danny’s freckled cheek. Sam felt as though he was doing something exceedingly terrible when his thumb traced a gentle journey over Danny’s skin that still buzzed with heat from his light burn. Danny drew in a big breath and released it through his nose, stern eyebrows knitting slightly in a dream as Sam screamed at himself in his head to move his hand, flip back over, and just go to sleep. Yet it seemed like such an insurmountable task now that he’d felt Danny’s breath on his wrist. Worse, it reminded Sam of the proximity of Danny’s lips to his own, only inches away and closer even to his fingers. Sam’s mind raced as he became obsessed with possibility. 

His dreams were quickly dashed in a moment of blinding, white hot panic as Danny sniffed and stirred, stretching his arms slightly as his eyelids fluttered. Even with Danny rousing, Sam couldn’t find the strength to move his hand. He kept it resting with soft pressure on Danny’s cheek as he panicked about whether or not to feign sleep. All the while, Danny blinked fully and his eyes came into focus. Sam settled for a fake, heavy lidded gaze, doing his own round of “half asleep” blinking as Danny studied his expression. Danny let out an amused huff through his nose and his arm facing Sam loudly disturbed the sheets as it lifted from under the pillow and his hand clumsily tapped against Sam’s own on his face. 

“You’re dreaming, Sam,” Danny mumbled, his voice low and grumbling as he fought to speak without falling asleep again. “Go to sleep.”

“Not dreaming,” Sam whispered tiredly. He watched as Danny’s hand stretched and rested fully over his own, Danny’s fingers curling a little as his eyes closed again and he began to doze. 

It was such a little thing, but that pull inside of Sam snapped. There was something overwhelming him, and in his exhausted, newly freed state of mind, he saw no other option but to succumb. For the first time, when he felt the compulsion to pray for his salvation, he ignored it outright.  

Shifting forward, Sam used his hand on Danny’s face as leverage to gently pull himself forward and press his lips to Danny’s. He did so with no real pressure, simply lingering as long as Danny would allow him to and trapping a shivering breath inside his lungs as his eyes closed at the relief. He fully expected Danny to spit and push him off the bed, leaving him right then and there to hop in his truck and find California all on his own like he was supposed to. His fingers pressed into Danny’s skin at the thought, holding on to him as long as he could before this impulse came back to bite him in what he was sure would be seconds.  

Instead, he was met with the ginger push of Danny’s lips meeting him halfway. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and Sam could taste the lingering whisper of mint toothpaste on his breath behind the numbing warmth of his tongue, which did no more but tap momentarily at Sam’s closed lips. When Danny’s lips unstuck from his, Danny barely pulled away to speak, giving Sam the luxury of their close proximity for longer than he ever could have dreamed of. 

“Now you’re just getting my hopes up,” Danny breathed with a laugh that lasted only a fraction of a second and seemed more like a punch of air from his chest.

Not really understanding what Danny meant, Sam flew into another panic. He could no longer feign a sleepy stare and blinked rapidly with restless nerves waking him up all the way. His heart pounded in his ears and he prayed his hand wouldn’t prickle with sweat from the dread beginning to course through him. All at once, he could hear a chorus of a hundred voices from back home reminding him of the great, divine consequence of what he was doing. 

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, his eyes immediately prickling with anxious tears. “I just…”

“I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and feeling all…you know, guilty or whatever ‘cause of something you did half asleep,” Danny murmured. He cursed his moral compass pointing him to true north, even in this miraculous circumstance when the dial seemed to be spun on its axis entirely.  

“I’m awake,” Sam argued in a whisper. “That’s why I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that with you sleeping, that’s-”

“I was awake, too,” Danny replied simply. “I mean, when...”

An infuriating, tense minute passed between the two of them. There was much to be said, and also nothing at all. Too little time had passed in each other’s company to have any kind of profound feeling to confess, and yet there was a confounding magnetism that left them staring into the other’s eyes with heavy breath and rattling hearts. Danny’s hand eventually fell from where it had lain over Sam’s, but before Sam’s heart could sting with hurt at the loss, he felt Danny’s arm adjust to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. With this motion, their lips connected again, and Sam breathed in sharply through his nose as he attempted to fall into the rhythm of this disarming, second ever kiss. The matchbox capacity of the motel room and the sleeping world beyond its cracked windows were swallowed up by the fervor of Danny’s shuddering breath and the heat rolling off his skin. Sam heard the chastising chorus in the back of his conscience begin to sing again when Danny’s hand on his lower back tightened its grip. His heart hammered thinking about roaring hellfire and scores of taunting devils, but when Danny carefully rolled Sam onto his back and Sam opened his eyes, he saw only an angel.

“This sure is a step up from your little gesture in the pool,” Danny acknowledged, caging Sam in with an arm at his side and another by his head. 

“I was only saying thank you,” Sam muttered sheepishly, struggling to speak with his throat so dry and his muscles so alive with flickering reactions he fought to suppress.

“What are you saying now?”

Sam fell silent. He had no experiences to draw on or words in his vocabulary to place what he felt about Danny. Kind, gracious, handsome Danny, hovering over him with the patience he doled out time and time again when lesser men would have rolled their eyes and drove off.

“I think…” Sam started, fighting to sort his scattered, uninformed feelings. “I’m still saying thank you.”

Unexpectedly, Danny’s eyes flickered with apprehension. Sam’s eyebrows knit with confusion when Danny leaned back to straddle Sam’s hips, suddenly wearing a somber expression. Sam’s bottom lip quaked and pouted as he hurriedly propped himself up on his elbows.

“What?” Sam blurted. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, fuck, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?”

“I just really hope you don’t feel like you have to…do anything for me just ‘cause I’m giving you a ride,” Danny said earnestly. “I’d be really sore if you thought of me that way. I don’t expect a single thing from you.”

Sam’s heart gave a deep, aching clench as Danny’s words sank in. He felt his eyes nearly welling with tears again as he watched Danny look down at his hands in his lap before flicking his eyes up to Sam, probing him for a response. 

“No,” Sam replied firmly, pushing off the bed to sit straight and stare up properly into Danny’s eyes. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I would never. Never ever. You should know that, Danny, come on. I, it’s just…”

He trailed off again, blushing with embarrassment as the words finally came to him, plain and true. 

“I just like you is all,” Sam admitted, thankful for the shade of night to conceal the flush he knew was painting his face pink. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep apologizing when you got nothing to apologize for,” Danny accused quietly. His hands were close to shaking as he tried to calm himself down, but it was hard not to shiver at Sam’s confession.

“Sorry. Product of my upbringing, I guess.”

“Well, I got a bone to pick with a lot of things about your upbringing, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Me too,” Sam whispered truthfully. 

Danny studied Sam’s face with that familiar worried look he found himself sporting every day now, taking a minute to smooth Sam’s hair back and get lost in his dark, doll-like gaze. 

“I know it wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam went on with a small, shameful voice. 

Danny let out an airy, one note laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes, finally plucking up the courage to cup Sam’s cheek as Sam had done to him. 

“I’m not even sure what ‘the plan’ is anymore,” Danny sighed, finding it difficult to look anywhere but Sam’s rosy frown. “I know what I said, but I think deep down all I really wanted to do was go. California just seemed like the best place to start.”

“So…” Sam coaxed, unable to stop himself from tilting his chin into Danny’s grip. “When will you know where you’re going?”

“Now that I’ve met you, Sam? I think I know where I’m headed.”

Before Sam could bring up any matters of direction, of Danny’s supposed destined Californian love, or of what was to become of them as a them, Danny kissed Sam for a third time. Nothing special, nothing mind blowing. Yet with it, Sam felt every saying about the magic number, three strikes, and the Holy Trinity itself fade in comparison. And when Danny laid him down again, Sam swore he could see the stars.

 -

The next morning, Sam sat in the passenger seat of the truck with his head hanging out the window, chestnut hair spilling behind him in the wind as the bare fields and pale blue sky rolled on by. With his shirt unbuttoned to remedy the heatwave, anyone would’ve been able to see the small, tender bruises lining his collarbone and marching down his chest. Beside him, Danny kept one eye firmly on the empty road and the other on his passenger. On a whim, he took a hand off the wheel to fiddle with the radio, adept fingers spinning the knob until a choral worship song came crackling over the waves. Sam turned his head at the music and made a fond sound, shoving Danny’s shoulder with a light push and settling back into his seat. However, after a minute of listening, Sam found himself reaching to change the station. He settled on a rock station blasting a song dripping with bass and drums, nodding his head along to it curiously as Danny shot him an incredulous smile. 

“I fear I’ve corrupted you,” Danny laughed, reaching out to muss Sam’s hair.

“Good,” Sam hummed. “I needed it.”

“Yeah, you did. Just remember you promised not to go running off on me. And no bar fights. And before you ask, tattoos are a solid maybe.”

Sam laughed, pressing up against the headrest as he kicked his boots up on the dashboard and allowed himself to recline. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this might be one of the first times in his life he felt truly comfortable. It also crossed his mind that Danny’s persistent worry of Sam running off into the night was becoming increasingly more ridiculous. As he looked at the man driving next to him, who was miraculously unaware of the midday sun setting his curls and perfect side profile alight, Sam knew with confidence there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

~~

Chapter 2!

[mjonthetrack]

*disc: this fic contains graphic material such as rape,assault,homicide,explicit language,etc. It is a work of fiction based on the show Criminal Minds, It will be an alternate universe meaning it will NOT follow the time sequence or character plots exact to the show. I do not own these characters aside from my own oc and do not own the images used.

Chapter 41 The Burn Begins

They landed just after dusk. Black SUVs fanned out across a remote gravel road in Alabama. One of the satellite compounds sat tucked behind a dense tree line—abandoned on paper, humming with silent threat in real life.

Hotch issued orders with sharp efficiency, pairing off agents, detailing the entry points. Tactical gear was donned. Guns were checked. The air was tight with adrenaline.

Reid stood on the outskirts of the circle, his eyes locked on the compound as if staring could tear it apart. His vest hung a little loose—he hadn’t bothered adjusting it properly. His lips were tight, jaw clenched, and his hand gripped the edge of the SUV door like he needed something solid to keep himself from unraveling.

Morgan caught it. Had been catching it for days.

“Yo,” he said, approaching and nudging Reid’s arm with his elbow. “You ready?”

Reid didn’t answer immediately.

“She said she didn’t ask me to stay,” Reid murmured, voice low.

Morgan nodded slowly. “Yeah. But you stayed anyway.”

“She didn’t stop me,” he added like it mattered. “But she didn’t��� ask me to come back either.”

Morgan let out a soft exhale and looked him dead in the eye. “She’s been to hell, Reid. And she came back dragging her own damn chains behind her. You think she’s gonna know what to do with someone like you? Someone who waited for her?”

Reid’s throat moved as he swallowed the weight in his chest.

“She doesn’t have to know what to do with me,” he said quietly. “I just want her to stop hurting.”

Morgan studied him. “Yeah, well… so do we all. But wanting ain’t gonna change the war she’s in. You gotta hang on, Doc. We need you sharp in there. No hero moves. We clear?”

Reid nodded once. “Yeah. We’re clear.”

Hotch’s voice cut through the air. “Move out.”

—————

Inside the Compound

Smoke. Gunshots. Screams.

The takedown was fast and brutal. JJ and Rossi took point at the side entrance, flushing out two armed men who were shocked to find the BAU coming in through the dark. Morgan tackled a third near the generator, his fists finishing what the butt of his gun had started.

Reid and a tactical agent covered the eastern wing, clearing narrow halls reeking of damp cement and gasoline. Rooms lined with reinforced doors, some locked—others open with evidence of victims already moved.

Reid burst into a smaller room—maps, chains, and a woman’s torn jacket on the floor. Not Hunter’s. Still—

“Clear!” he called, but his voice shook.

Hotch’s voice crackled in the comm. “Containment complete. Begin sweep.”

Reid stood still for a beat longer than necessary. His hands were trembling.

————

Back at BAU HQ — Hours Later

Everyone looked like they’d aged ten years. Hotch was silently reviewing footage. JJ paced, still in partial gear. Garcia was furiously typing, trying to cross-check the names they pulled.

Rossi poured himself a bourbon and slid one over to Morgan.

“Evidence is still not at any of these sites,” JJ said, exasperated. “We’re chasing shadows.”

“No,” Morgan said. “We’re flushing them out. Eli’s starting to squirm. He’s showing his hand.”

Across the room, Reid sat hunched at his desk, staring at the one photo Garcia had enhanced from the compound—an old blurred image of chains on a rusted floor from her time captured. His fingers hovered over it but didn’t touch.

Hotch approached silently and set a file down in front of him. “Go home. You need to sleep.”

Reid didn’t even blink.

“I said—”

“I’ll go when she’s home,” Reid interrupted, voice low. “Not before.”

No one had an argument for that.

—————-

Chapter 42

The door slammed heavier than intended. Reid didn’t care. Hotch’s order to “go home” wasn’t a suggestion, it was a dismissal—and Reid felt the weight of it sitting on his chest like an elephant. Home felt foreign. Empty. Too still.

He hadn’t seen Hunter since he’d left her at the safe house. The memory of her standing in the doorway, saying nothing as he walked out, haunted him like the echo of a scream in an empty room.

The knock on his door wasn’t light—it was the kind you feel in your spine.

“Open up, kid,” came Morgan’s voice from the other side.

Reid sighed, running a hand over his face before opening the door.

Morgan stepped inside, eyes immediately scanning the place. “Damn. You look worse than the coffee you make.”

“I’m fine,” Reid muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Morgan said, cutting through the bullshit. “You haven’t been fine since she went radio silent.”

Reid’s jaw clenched. “She didn’t go silent. I left. Hotch wanted me on the mission.”

“You didn’t want to leave,” Morgan said gently. “But you did. And now you’re unraveling.”

Reid didn’t answer.

Morgan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “You know she’s not just some case file, right? You didn’t look at her the way you look at puzzle pieces. You looked at her like she was the one thing that made sense in this messed-up world.”

“She was scared, Derek,” Reid finally said, voice breaking at the edges. “And I still left.”

“You followed orders.”

“I should’ve stayed,” he whispered. “She was shutting down and I let it happen. Now I don’t know if she’s safe or if she’s falling apart alone.”

Morgan’s voice softened. “Then make it right. We’re closing in on Eli’s operation. When we end it, when she’s free of his grip—don’t hold back. Tell her. Be there.”

Reid stared down at his hands, clenched into fists. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

“She never stopped wanting you, kid,” Morgan said. “She just stopped believing she deserved you.”

Reid didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes shifted. Purpose. Determination. Pain repurposed into resolve.

Morgan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Suit up, genius. We’re gonna finish this.”

——-

Chapter 43 — Checkmate

Quantico – BAU Headquarters

The bullpen buzzed with restless energy, a new urgency humming under everyone’s skin. Reid stood over the evidence board, tapping his fingers restlessly against the edge of the table. Eyes sharper. Movements tighter. The remnants of heartbreak sat heavy in his chest, but there was clarity in it now. Morgan stood next to him, jaw locked as he stared down case files and surveillance photos.

Garcia chimes from her monitor,“I’ve cracked into the encrypted comms. Our boy Eli had a whole other tier we didn’t even know existed. Like, I’m talking sick little breadcrumbs left like he wanted to be found—but only when he decided.”

JJ adds across the room “He’s planning something. This isn’t just ego. It’s control. He’s trying to reclaim her.”

Morgan growled under his breath,”He’s going to try and take her again.”

Reid froze mid-step, mind racing through everything. The coded language in the notes. The patterns in his surveillance network.

Reid interjects cold, to the group,”No. He’s not going to try. He is going to. Tonight.”

Hotch says,”How do you know that?”

Reid meets his eyes without blinking, “Because this entire operation has been psychological warfare. This is his endgame move. Hunter’s the one variable he’s never had full control over… and he knows we’re closing in.”

Rossi stepping forward,“Then we hit him before he moves. Gear up. Everyone.”

———

Hunter – Safe House (Later That Night)

Hunter stood in the kitchen, back to the counter, hand curled around her weapon. The unease in her bones wouldn’t settle. The lights flickered once. Then again.

The hairs on her neck stood up.

Something was coming. Her instincts had never been wrong.

She turned, loaded, ready.

———

Cut to – SUV, En Route

Morgan’s posture was tight with urgency, “She’ll never forgive herself if something happens to us. She’ll try to handle it alone.”

Reid sat clenching his jaw,“Then we don’t let her.”

—-

Safe House – Seconds Later

The moment the first shadow moved outside the window, Hunter was already firing. Two shots, one down. But there were more—masked, moving like shadows, trying to subdue, not kill.

She took a hit to the shoulder but stayed standing, teeth bared like a soldier back in enemy territory.

Right as she was cornered—

CRASH.

The BAU SWATs in. Morgan hits the floor running, gun drawn. Reid is right behind, fury carved into every tense line of his body.

Morgan was firing as he moves,“Hunter!”

She collapses just as Reid gets to her. He drops beside her, arms catching her as she slumps.

Reids voice cracking, barely breathing,“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Her eyes flutter open just enough.

Hunter looked weakly, smirking,“Took you long enough, Wonder Boy.”

——

Cut to – Interrogation Room, Quantico

Eli sat across from the team—handcuffed, bloodied but smiling. He looked at each of them, unbothered.

Eli was chuckling,“Must’ve been quite the show, huh? She fought like hell, didn’t she?”

Hotch even, deadly calm,“Your network is gone. Your men are dead or arrested. You lost.”

Eli replied “Lost?” then he leans forward “She’ll never be the same. I own pieces of her none of you even know exist.”

Morgan stepped around the table. One punch—fast, hard, no warning. Eli’s head snapped sideways.

Morgan was snarling,“You don’t own anything. You’re just a coward who hides behind bruises and threats.”

Eli had bloody smile,“She still wears my ring.”

Then came Reid.

He stepped forward slowly, calmly, a blade behind those brown eyes.

Reid spoke quietly,“I’ve studied psychopaths. I’ve profiled terrorists, serial killers, and sadists. You’re not unique, Elijah. You’re not even impressive. You’re a formula.”

He leaned in, close enough Eli could feel his breath. Then added“You wanted to break her? She survived. You lost.”

He turned without waiting for a reply.

Eli speaks up“She still loves me, doc. I wonder if she screamed your name or mine when she—”

Rossi stepped in next,one hard elbow to the table. The metal groaned.

Rossi sneered with“You ever speak her name again, I’ll make sure you forget your own.”

——

End of Chapter —

Back in the hallway, the team stood in the darkened corridor, looking in at the man who once held them all hostage without ever firing a shot. Now? He was caged.

But they weren’t celebrating.

Reid speaks quietly, to Morgan,“He almost had her. Almost had us.”

Morgan responds,“But he didn’t. We’re not done, pretty boy. But this… this was the start.”

—————

Chapter 44 The Quiet After

Hunter didn’t say anything when the nurse told her she was being discharged.

There was a calm in the air that felt like a lie. The kind of silence that comes after a storm levels a town—not peace, just absence. She moved mechanically, slipping on a clean black hoodie, zipping it up halfway over her tank. The bruises along her ribs flared when she moved. The nurse offered a prescription and a smile. Hunter didn’t take either.

When she stepped outside, she didn’t head for the car Hotch had arranged. She didn’t ask where she was going. She just stood there, under the weight of a sky too bright for how numb she felt.

Reid found her like that.

He didn’t say her name. Just walked up slowly, careful not to startle her.

“You okay to ride with me?” he asked gently.

She blinked like she hadn’t registered he was real. Then a nod. “Yeah.”

The drive was quiet. Not awkward. Not even tense. Just quiet. As if both of them were afraid to speak the wrong word and break whatever thread was still holding things together.

When they pulled up to the house—a different safe house this time, one Garcia personally vetted—Hunter stayed in the passenger seat, hand on the door handle but not moving.

“I don’t know where to go,” she finally said.

Reid looked at her, really looked. The way her fingers trembled, the way her shoulders curled inward just slightly. He wanted to reach for her. Instead, he swallowed hard.

“You don’t have to decide tonight.”

Hunter gave a soft, joyless laugh. “That’s the problem. I’ve never decided anything for me. Not really.”

He didn’t answer. Just waited.

After a moment, she opened the door and stepped out. He followed.

Inside, the lights were already on. The place was warm, safe, but felt unfamiliar. She dropped her bag by the door and walked toward the window, arms folded tightly across her chest.

“You’ve barely said a word to me since…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

“I didn’t know what you needed,” Reid said carefully. “And I didn’t want to break anything you were trying to keep together.”

She turned then, finally facing him. “You didn’t break it, Spence. He did.”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

He took a slow step closer. “I know. But I still should’ve done something sooner.”

Her eyes locked on his, and the wall she had held up so tightly finally fractured.

“You were the only thing that didn’t feel like war,” she whispered. “Everything else in my life has been a fight. A battlefield. Even love—it was a weapon he used. But you…”

She trailed off, swallowing hard.

“I thought if I let myself want you, he’d find a way to take you from me too. That you’d become collateral. So I kept you away. Cold. Sharp. Like that would make you safe.”

Reid didn’t move closer. He just let it sit. Let the silence fill the space instead of rushing to fix it.

“I’m not safe,” he said softly. “But I’m here.”

She gave a breathless laugh that sounded like it hurt. “You always are.”

Reid looked at her like he had a thousand things to say. But the words didn’t come. Instead, he nodded, like he understood something unspoken.

Hunter moved toward him. Slow. Careful. Like if she stepped too fast the moment would vanish.

And when she reached him, she didn’t speak. She just wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her forehead to his chest. Her voice was barely a breath.

“Stay tonight?”

He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation. “Always.”

—————

Chapter 45 Aftershocks

The night settled around them like a blanket too heavy to shake off.

Hunter hadn’t said much since the moment she asked him to stay. Reid didn’t push. He sat on the couch, his legs stretched out, a book open in his hands he hadn’t read a single word of. The light in the corner of the room buzzed quietly, casting soft yellow against the far wall.

He glanced toward the hallway again. Her bedroom door was still cracked.

He was cursing himself quietly in his head.

Say something. Tell her. Now. You idiot.

But nothing came.

He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and shatter the fragile peace between them. He hadn’t forgotten what she'd said earlier—how he was the only thing that didn’t feel like war. The weight of that felt biblical. He didn’t want to misstep and send her back behind that wall she kept so well-constructed.

So he sat. Waiting. Reeling.

Then he heard it.

A soft clink of metal. A ring against wood or glass.

He turned his head instinctively, eyes narrowing slightly.

She stepped into the hallway not even a minute later.

And everything inside him stalled.

She was barefoot. Her curls were down, a little messy from the towel-dried wave of her shower. She wore an oversized sleep shirt, one that hit just at the tops of her thighs, catching every curve in the low light. But it wasn’t the shirt that knocked the wind out of him—it was the way she looked at him.

Deliberate. Still a little uncertain. But more than anything else… in control.

She walked toward him slowly, and he stood without thinking, book forgotten, pulse thudding.

Her eyes flicked to his—sharp, intentional. The kind of look that said I’m choosing this.

And then, without warning, she grabbed his face and kissed him.

He gasped softly against her mouth from the sheer force of it—not rough, not messy, just sure. Her fingers curled in his hair, pulling him into her like she’d been waiting years to let herself go.

He didn’t resist. How could he?

But his brain? Spinning.

She’s kissing me. Oh God, she’s kissing me. Is this happening? Does she really want this? She wants this.

He kissed her back like a man finally let out of a burning building.

Her lips were warm and demanding, and when she broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, “I want you,” there was no hesitation left in him.

They stumbled back toward the bedroom, his hands finding her waist, hers tugging at the hem of his shirt, hungry to feel skin.

Her voice was breathy as she kissed under his jaw.

“I want this, Spencer. I want you.”

When they reached the bed, she laid back first, pulling him over her gently, her fingers mapping out the muscles beneath his shirt. She moved with the hunger of someone reclaiming something stolen.

His hands were reverent, sliding along her thighs, her hips, up under the shirt. He kissed her like he was memorizing her—slow, deep, trailing from her collarbone to the curve of her breast. Her breath hitched every time he lingered.

She arched when he finally touched her beneath the fabric, hips rocking, eyes dark with want.

“Spence,” she whispered, fingers curling against his back. “Please.”

He nearly lost it at the sound.

The moment he pushed into her—slow, deep, gentle—he stopped breathing. His hand was laced with hers above her head, the other steadying her hip. Her legs wrapped around him tight.

“You feel…” he choked on the words, chest tight. “God, you feel like everything.”

She pulled him down into another kiss, softer this time, lingering. Letting the silence stretch and settle.

They moved together like they were made for it—no frantic pace, just deep, slow strokes, building heat and reverence. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her lips tracing words against his shoulder.

Every moan, every gasp, every whisper from her unspooled something inside him.

And when she whispered his name as she came—his real name, not the playful nicknames, not the guarded words—he buried his face in her neck and let himself fall too.

Afterward, he stayed tucked against her, hand still wrapped with hers. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

And when she turned to him, eyelids heavy, her voice barely a breath…

“You were the only thing he never touched,” she said, “and now I finally understand why I never let myself have you.”

Reid just held her tighter.

“You’re not his anymore,” he murmured. “You never were.”

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Eleven

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Author Master List

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten

CHAPTER: Eleven

Elenora was happy at this moment. Between her starting work at the school and Tim’s work with the Marshal’s they had little time together over the last bit. Mainly, they had been staying at their respective residences and meeting up for coffee in the morning together, if time allowed. But now, now Tim was spinning her around the dance floor of some dingy bar outside of Lexington. Some of his friends from the army had invited Tim and Elenora out to listen to an Alabama cover band.

When the current song had ended, Tim had dipped Elenora low to the ground. Letting out a laugh, Tim hoisted her back up and put his lips on hers. It all felt like she was a teenager again. Making out on the dance floor.

“GET A ROOM!” Came a shout from one of Tim’s friends and Elenora just laughed as she pulled away from Tim to head back to the table. Tim, however, seemed to have a different idea and instead pulled Elenora back to him and once again claimed her mouth with his own. The kiss was passionate and Elenora felt her knees go weak, but Tim held her to him until finally he pulled his lips off of hers.

The two of them headed back to the table the group was sat at and Tim pulled Elenora into his lap when he sat down. Wrapping his arm around her and setting his hand down on her skirt covered thigh.

“Who would have thought Gutterson would have found someone as crazy as him?” Said one of the guys from across the table.

“You calling me crazy?” Elenora said with a large smile as she reached for her beer.

“Honestly, it is just nice to know you are real. We thought he was making you up. Arresting some naked girl in a fountain and then hooking up with her.”

Elenora looked back at Tim with wide eyes. “Is that what you told them?”

“I might have embellished a little.” Tim said, a sly smile on his face as he grabbed his own beer. He took a swig, and Elenora felt him settle back in his chair.

“As long as you haven’t been showin’ ‘em that picture.”

“Gutterson, you holdin’ out on us?” Another one of the men, Steven, asked with a laugh.

“Ain’t nobody ever gonna see that one but me,” Said Tim. He turned his head and looked at Elenora. The look he was giving her was hard to decipher. She could not quite figure out what he was thinking while he looked at her.

Pulling her eyes away from him, Elenora looked at Tim’s friends. “So you said crazy like him? What kind of stories you got for me?”

It was about an hour later when Elenora, who was dancing with Steven and watched as Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. She did not miss the way he looked at the caller ID and then at her with a frown. After he got off the phone, he made his way down to the dance floor just as the song was ending.

“We gotta’ go. Art called. Your grandfather is hiding out in the vet’s bar and Art and your daddy can’t get in to talk to him.”

“Gotta go to show that super hero card of yours?” Tim’s friend asked.

“Yup.” Tim was holding Elenora’s purse on his arm and used the other to present to Elenora. “I got the tab, so I’m ready to go when you are.”

Elenora took her purse from Tim and smiled at Steven. “Thanks for the dance.”

“Any time. You keep Gutterson in check there okay, it’s nice having him back at the meetings.”

When they hit the interstate, Elenora settled herself against the door so she could look at Tim. “I had fun tonight. Your friends are nice.”

“They’re assholes, but nice assholes at least,” Replied Tim. His left hand gripped the steering wheel. “Sorry, I had to cut it short for work. Was really looking forward to taking you home tonight.”

“Well, we will have a three-hour drive back after this. I’m sure we could make a pit stop somewhere.” Elenora wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Tim just let out a chuckle. “So, how do you wanna play this out when we get there? Am I hiding in the back, or are we coming up with some excuse as to why we are arriving together?”

“Honestly, I was just thinking we tell the truth. We went out with some friends for drinks out of town, and I wasn’t just gonna leave you there.” Tim looked at Elenora. “Honestly, it’s kind of fun watching your daddy squirm. He’s been asking lately if I’ve met this guy of yours. He says he is trying to be good and leave you be. Let you tell him when you’re ready.”

Elenora pulled up a leg and tucked it under herself as she watched Tim. “I’m impressed. He said he would give me some space. Didn’t realize you two were becoming so friendly to one another.”

The rest of the drive was filled with silence and idle chitchat, mostly to keep the both of them awake and focused, and once they got close, Elenora found her palms beginning to sweat and her heart began to beat fast. “Tim, I don’t know if I can do this...”

“If you want to stay in the vehicle, you can. Just climb in the back seat and get some sleep. I saw you driftin’ off over there, as much as I appreciate you stayin’ awake with me. You can rest Nell.”

They were within the town limits now, so Elenora unbuckled her seat belt and slipped through the center and into the back seat. Laying herself down on the fabric, she tucked her arm under her head and sighed. “This is kind of nice, actually.”

“We’re coming up on it now. I’ll try not to be too long.”

“Okay.” Whispered Elenora as she closed her eyes. It was a minute or so later when she felt the vehicle come to a stop and Tim opened the door, hopping out.

She could hear footsteps outside and then Art’s voice. “We interrupt anything?”

“I’ve been off the clock since five, so...”

“You drunk?” Art asked, his voice now sounding further away.

“I was headed in that direction, till this detour...”

Then it was just quiet. The only noises Elenora could hear were the passing vehicles and so she let herself drift away to sleep.

When Art Mullen had gotten up that morning, he decided that unlike every other morning he was going to try something different, there was a coffee shop on the other side of the Marshal’s office that Elenora had told him about. She liked to study there, she said, it had an amazing brown sugar espresso. She thought he would like it, but Art just never seemed to find the time. Today, however, he had decided to find the time. It was early, six am, but Art knew they would be open from his prior conversations with Elenora.

So there he sat in a booth at the back. Coffee cooling on the table and a newspaper fanned out in front of him. He had been focusing on the international news section when he heard Elenora’s laugh echo through the quite busy building. So when he had looked up, he had expected her to be laughing at something the young man behind the counter had said, but instead she was wrapped in his youngest deputy’s arms.

Art picked up the paper in front of him slowly and held it up slightly as to partially cover his face as he watched the two. He could only see Tim’s back, but he knew it was him, by the hair, stature and pistol at the man’s hip. Elenora was leaning against his side, her head on his shoulder, and his arm was resting along her back and hip. She had a large briefcase bag on her shoulder, signaling she must be on her way to work. Art watched as they waited in line, talking to each other in what appeared to be easy conversation. When they turned to head to the pickup counter, Art raised the paper and instead watched their reflection in the large windows of the shop. He watched as Elenora stood herself chest to chest with Tim and the two kissed, with Tim’s hands moving to the back of her neck.

So this was it, he thought, the great mystery of who Elenora was seeing. He knew he should not be surprised. He had a feeling something was happening ever since the night Elenora was attacked in the parking lot. Leslie had told him when Tim dropped Elenora off, he had stuck around for a bit, sitting on the bed and just watching her sleep. She had said it was the way Tim brushed the hair out of Elenora’s face that told her that Tim was in love with her. Art wondered for how long it had been happening, and how they had been able to keep it so hidden, considering they had no qualms about going out in public together.

When Tim had shown up drunk and seemed not too keen on the fact he had been disturbed, Art wondered if that meant he had been spending the evening with Elenora. The young mans plaid shirt open, revealing his undershirt, was an unkempt, relaxed look Art was not used to seeing. That was a thought for later, however, as the three Marshal’s sat themselves down at Arlo Givens table.

“How did you get in?” Arlo asked as he eyed Raylan.

“Deputy Gutterson served in Afghanistan.” Raylan said simply as he motioned to Tim. Art watched the way Tim’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the older man.

“He a mess-hall cook?” Arlo asked with a laugh.

Leaning back in his chair matched Arlo’s stare. “Sniper in the Rangers.”

Arlo looked Tim over. “So, he’s the shit. The Afghan war, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Tim replied.

“Yes, sir. I like that. Yes, sir.” Arlo spoke, his voice sounding somewhat amiable but also mocking. “So, what can I do for ya’ll?”

“We’re interested in Boyd Crowder.” Art began.

“Isn’t he out in the woods, uh, running a revival or something?” Arlo asked as he sat back in his seat.

Art leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “Yeah, but we want to know if he’s helping Bo Crowder and if Bo’s reestablishing his business.”

Arlo just scuffed. “Why would I know any of that?”

“Because you ran Bo’s protection-and-collection business while he was in prison.” Raylan said simply, as if it was well known news.

“I what?” The sarcasm rolled off Arlo in waves, and Art could tell this was not going to go well for them.

“You deny it?” Asked Art as he narrowed his eyes at Arlo.

“Hell, yes, I deny it. That’s crazy. Why on earth would Bo do something like that?”

That seemed to be enough for Raylan as the man stood up from his seat. The chair legs scratched across the floor from the force. “Okay. We’re done here.”

“Mr. Givens, what we need you to consider...” Tim spoke after minutes of silence, but he was interrupted as Raylan grabbed the back of Arlo’s chair and his face appeared next to his fathers.

“What I’m supposed to say is, we know you ran Bo’s protection racket into the dirt. So it doesn’t take a prophet to see the future from here.” This caused Arlo to stand from his seat, with Art and Tim following suit. “Okay. You can either sit around, waiting to catch a bullet or...”

“What?” Arlo asked his son, the disdain dripping from his voice.

“Or you can accept protection from the Marshal’s Service.”

“How about we talk about my granddaughter. That Crowder kept her hidden from you, from me. Wonder if she turned out like you, an arrogant self righteous ass?”

“Don’t you talk about my daughter.” Raylan spoke as he pointed a finger towards his father. “How about instead we talk about Helen? You gonna forgive yourself if she gets caught in the crossfire, hmm?”

“You are no longer welcome here. Any of you.” Arlo spoke, turning around and looking to Art and Tim. “Tell the truth.” Arlo began as he looked back at Raylan. “You didn’t honestly think you could turn me.”

Raylan pushed his hat down a little farther on his head and sighed. “I came here as an officer of the law, because sometimes we have to make deals with lowlifes because we have our sights set on life-forms even somehow lower on the ladder of lowlifes than they. And why would you ever think I would let you anywhere near my daughter?”

The slap that sounded as Arlo’s palm connected with Raylan’s face was loud in the silence of the bar, and Art had to stick an arm out to hold Tim back as the young man pushed forward to intervene. Unsure if it was the why Arlo was talking about Elenora or the booze he had drank prior. It honestly was probably a little of both. “Mr. Givens, we’re taking down the Crowders, and you can either go with them or not.” Art said simply as he watched Raylan storm away from the group.

When Art got outside, he was greeted by the sound of his cell phone going off, and the sound of Raylan’s. Then, as Tim appeared beside him, the young Marshal’s as well. The three looked at each other before Art opened the phone to see a message reading ‘double murder, think it was Boyd taking out more cookers.’ There was also an address attached.

Art looked at Tim and then at Raylan. “I’m gonna ride with Deputy Gutterson. Raylan lead the way.” Raylan headed off to the car, and Art walked to stand next to Tim. “You and I need to have a talk on this ride.”

“Sir...” Tim began as he fished his keys out of his pocket and looked from Art to the SUV and back again. “There is something you should know.”

“I got a pretty good guess, son.”

“Well, then at least, be quiet cause she’s sleepin’.” Said Tim with a sigh as he and Art moved toward the vehicle and each carefully opened the doors and got in. Without waiting for Art to even do his seat belt up, Tim pulled out of the parking lot and headed out.

Once they were on the move, Art turned to look in the backseat, and there, curled up under Tim’s blue Marshal’s jacket, was Elenora. Fast asleep, using her hands that were laying palm to palm as a pillow. When he brought his head back to look at Tim, he found the young man staring out the windshield leaned back with one hand on the steering wheel.

“How long?”

“Since the night before she got the apartment.” Said Tim simply.

“So that story you guys told, when Wallace had her?”

“Mostly true. Didn’t actually catch her in the fountain. Met her at the bar, she asked me for a favor to help with getting the place. We’ve been going steady since,” Tim said casually as he continued to stare at the taillights of Raylan’s car.

“Steady?” Art questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Tim let his head lean to the right, and he let out a sigh. “Yeah, steady.”

“So, this thing is serious?”

“Yup.” Said Tim before glancing back towards Elenora. “Nell, you still sleepin’?” When now reply came, Tim pointed towards the glove box and gave Art a pointed look. “Open it.”

Art did as he was told and reached forward to release the latch. Looking inside, he strained against the dim light of the cab, but he could make out a few loose pieces of paper, a notepad, a box of condoms, which he raised an eye at and a small black box. Plucking it from the depths of the dark hole, Art held it in his hands and looked at Tim. “Is this what I think it is?”

“We went to some house party, a graduation thing at one of her friends. I saw her there with her friends, having fun, a smile on her face. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. We talked a little on the porch. She asked me what I was thinkin’ about, and honestly, I was imagining her leavin’ me. Cause before that, all night, all I could think about was growin’ old next to her. Didn’t think about work, not about the war, just her.” He rocked his head back and forth for a second. “Next day, I bought that.”

Art stared down at a thin gold band, with a large round cut diamond and a scattered halo of about a dozen small diamonds. “Tim...”

“Raylan doesn’t know.”

Art closed the ring box and put it carefully back in the glove compartment. “I figured seeing as how you don’t have a bullet hole in you. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Art, I wanna marry that girl back there. I just don’t know how to ask her daddy’s permission.”

Chapter Twelve

[dollyrps]

ꗯ 𝗡𝖤𝖫𝖫𝒴𝖮𝖭𝘼𝙄𝙍. 🎙️ 3/5/25. ❩

⑅⃛ duration 𖫲 one—hr.

nelly sat in front of her radio setup with a pearly white smile, production team counting down to the start of the hour run. “what it do, bitches?! it’s ya’ favorite city girl and i’m back on this hoe like i never left! miss me? know you did.” she chuckled, combing the ends of her bundles using acrylics. “i only been gone for a week and i have so much to catch up on. white girl rap beef, travis in the wwe, the oscars—it’s just all too much. i wanna start off by saying that the ‘catch me outside’ girl, yea, the one in them braids—why she eat the kardashian stepchild up like thaaat? i just don’t understand what could’ve had these two palm colored ladies this riled up to go at it like this.” lips curved into a smirk, shaking her head while glancing down at her note sheet. “oh, okay. her name is alabama barker and they comparing her flow to latto, what y’all think about this shit?”

“next! so who do i need to slap on my team for not having me on the oscars’ red carpet? as if the nelly show ain’t doing numbers and i’m the hottest networker out in the 305 . . ? this was a setup from todd, but whatever! the show itself didn’t gag me. none of my favorites won, so. and they know they dead wrong having cynthia erivo and ariana grande open the show … just to send them home with nothing but themselves.” her laugh infectious, swiping through her first page of notes. “and trav—don’t get me started on you, sir. all up in them people establishment like you hulk hogan. why i saw somewhere that you busted that man’s eardrum and gave him a black eye? i need answers! i’m overwhelmed.”

todays’ music rotation, sponsored by @ muse beauty! it’s a makeup brand catered to all skin tones with high pigmented lipglosses and lipliners!

“production is messy and i love that shit ‘cause why they just reminded me about the gorgeous doll, future, tiktok situation? and i love me some future, he one of my go-to artists when i’m going out, but nigga? got up on that lady phone saying you don’t know her but answered on the first ring. huuuuuh? and then you sat there and crashed out while she was recording the conversation for her lil’ tiktok following. moral of the story, i say it every episode so say it with me … niggas ain’t shit, thank ya!” nelly clapped manicured digits together, expression of disappointment across facial features. “and hoes ain’t either, ‘cause you won’t ever catch me showing my ass like that for a social media check, mm mm!” […..] “alright, bitches. that’s all i have today. it’s been a busy news week during my vacay, so i’ll save the advice segment for fuck it friday. make sure to submit your questions anonymously in the inbox, ‘til next time, kisses bitches!”

[krispyweiss]

Old Crow Medicine Show at KEMBA Live!, Columbus, Ohio, Jan. 25, 2024

Old Crow Medicine Show ain’t sellin’ no snake oil. No, Sir and Ma’am. Their music is a proven elixir for all that ails at the end of a long day.

And the septet has no problem transforming a bluegrass-country show in to an arena-rock extravaganza, making Ketch Secor’s greeting of: “Let’s get ready to rock ‘n’ roll” entirely plausible despite denim, cowboy hats and mostly acoustic instrumentation.

For just as the balmy, rainy Jan. 25 weather made the Columbus, Ohio winter feel like spring, the Medicine men proceeded to make the rural rock - hard - on the show-opening “Tell it to Me,” delivered as it was with the exuberance of a final encore as the band members danced around the stage like youngsters overdosing on caffeine. That the music inside KEMBA Live! was as tight as the players were loose is just another part of Old Crow’s irresistible appeal, even as cheesy faux-preacher asides and incessant references to Ohio and its Buckeyes college football team grew tiresome over the course of the two-hour gig in front of a respectable-for-a-Thursday-night-sized audience.

The engine-revving continued on the aptly titled “Alabama High-Test” and - despite the occasional balladic breather - across the set that chronicled OCMS’ sonic evolution from the 2004 Bob Dylan leftover-cum-huge-hit “Wagon Wheel” to the social commentary of 2023’s “Louder than Guns.”

And by the time the rambunctious, early-set “Carry Me Back” screeched to a dime-stop close, the audience was crackling with as much electricity as the band. The glorious transfer of energy from stage to floor and back continued all evening, whether the band members were arrayed at their individual mics singing two- to seven-part harmonies or lined up at the lip of the stage tossing harmonicas and guitar picks in to the audience.

This was one of the first Old Crow gigs of 2024. And while the band is looking forward to what’s about to unfold, the players spent a portion of the show arrayed around a single mic and looking back at the musicians lost in 2023 with a medley that included Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U,” CSN’s “Teach Your Children,” Gordon Lightfoot’s “Early Morning Rain” and Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville.”

Performing in front of a circus-tent backdrop emblazoned with their name, Old Crow Medicine Show traded instruments and swapped lead-vocal duties, making themselves sound like a different band on various songs. Working as one, the seven Medicine men, Secor (fiddle, keys, harmonica, guitar, banjo, ukelele); Cory Younts (mandolin, melodica, banjo, keys, harmonica); acoustic and electric bassist Morgan Jahnig; PJ George (banjo, accordion, mandolin, fiddle, guitar, drums); Mike Harris (guitar, mandolin, banjo, Dobro); Dante’ Pope (drums, percussion, keys); and Mason Via on guitar, guitjo and mandolin - transformed CCR’s “Proud Mary” into a hybrid soul-grass revue with dueling fiddles; presented “Tequila” as a drunken barn dance with a guest spot from the sax player of Bird and Byron, whose homecoming opening set served to help the neo-soul group develop before a large audience; and unrolled C.C. Rider as a piano-driven blues as Pope took the keys and mic while George held steady at the kit.

Shades of the big-“B” Band. But this small-“b” band of brothers, is, despite lots of covers - including an angry rendition of “Ohio” and its celebratory antithesis “Hang on Sloopy” with Ohio- and Old Crow-specific lyrics added - its own singular thing. This is what makes an OCMS show one of the only places on Earth a concertgoer can find himself in the 1950s singing to “Great Balls of Fire;” straddling the distant and recent past while dancing down the middle of “Dixie Avenue” and lustily cheering Secor’s taunting of Ohio’s fearmongering Statehouse.

“Trans kids can dance here, too.” he declared.

No snake oil here. Just the healing and the facts, Ma’am and Sir.

Grade card: Old Crow Medicine Show at KEMBA Live! - 1/25/24 - A-

See more photos on Sound Bites’ Facebook page.

1/26/24

[scarletlizzard]

good morning!

category is: dad who is hyped about getting everyone to the airport 6 hours early while the kids fight for sleep in the backseat

ain’t talkin bout love - Van Halen

I’m in a hurry (and don’t know why) - Alabama

take it easy - the eagles

🫡 🦅🦅🦅🦅

- 🧊

Good morning indeed!! WOW!

I absolutely love the music talks, this one seeeent me! ALL THE BONUS POINTS! For matching the perfect, amazing description of vibes, and for the use of the band Alabama. What do y'all know about Dixieland Delight?? Anyway, roll tide. This was chefs kiss mwah just perfect

The vibes: its 2008 and I'm trying to play hard on guitar hero while my parents are yelling at eachother in the other room

I Wanna Be Sedated - Ramones

Crossroads - Cream

Godzilla - Blue Oyster Cult

More Than a Feeling - Boston

Some lore for you, I can now, in fact, play expert on guitar hero/rock band 🫶

[lboogie1906]

Albert George Hibbler (August 16, 1915 – April 24, 2001) was a baritone vocalist, who sang with Duke Ellington’s orchestra before having several pop hits as a solo artist. He is seen as a bridge between R&B and traditional pop music.

He was born in Tyro, Mississippi, and was blind from birth. He moved to Little Rock, where he attended Arkansas School for the Blind, joining the school choir. He began working as a blues singer in local bands, failing his first audition for Duke Ellington. He was given his start with Dub Jenkins and his Playmates; he was a popular Memphis saxophonist and bandleader. He joined a band led by Jay McShann and the following year joined Ellington’s orchestra.

He stayed with Ellington for almost eight years and featured on a range of Ellington standards, including “Do Nothin’ Til You Hear From Me”, which reached #6 on the Billboard pop chart (#1 for eight weeks on the “Harlem Hit Parade”), “I Ain’t Got Nothin’ But the Blues,” and “I’m Just a Lucky So-and-So”. He won the Esquire New Star Award and the Down Beat Award for Best Band Vocalist.

He recorded with various bands including those of Johnny Hodges and Count Basie, he released an LP, Al Hibbler Favorites. He released a more successful album, Al Hibbler Sings Duke Ellington. His biggest hit was “Unchained Melody”, which reached #3 on the US pop chart, sold over one million copies, and was awarded a gold disc. His version reached #2 in the UK Singles Chart, becoming his only chart hit in the UK. Its success led to network appearances, including a live jazz club remote on Monitor. Other hits were “He”, “11th Hour Melody” and “Never Turn Back”. “After the Lights Go Down Low” was his last top-ten hit.

He became a civil rights activist, marching with protestors and getting arrested in 1959 in New Jersey and in 1963 in Alabama. The notoriety of this activism discouraged major record labels from carrying out his work. He made very few recordings after that, occasionally doing live appearances through the 1990s. He sang two songs at Louis Armstrong’s funeral. In 1972 he made an album, A Meeting of the Times, with Rahsaan Roland Kirk. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[thosehunt]

Comparative Review: Insulated vs. Non-Insulated Hunting Boots

Which One’s Right for Your? Let’s Get Into It.

I’ve been in the field more autumns than I can count—sometimes knee-deep in snow, sometimes ankle-deep in swamp. If there’s one thing I’ve learned (besides always double-checking your thermos lid), it’s that your boots can make or break a hunt.

Now, folks often ask: “Should I go with insulated boots or just stick to non-insulated ones and double up on socks?” Well, it ain’t a one-size-fits-all answer. It depends on the season, terrain, and—let’s be honest—how much you like to complain about cold toes.

If you’re hunting in colder climates—say, chasing elk in late-season Montana or stand hunting whitetails in upstate New York—insulated hunting boots are your best bet, no question. That extra warmth keeps you focused on the hunt, not on how many toes you think you’ve got left.

🥶 Insulated Hunting Boots – Warmth, But at a Cost

Let’s start with the cozy boys. Insulated boots come with Thinsulate™, Primaloft®, or other fancy-named materials packed in 'em like a sausage roll. They trap heat like nobody’s business. I once sat through a six-hour goose stakeout in a frozen cornfield wearing 1200g boots and didn’t lose a toe—though I did lose a bet about whether we’d see any geese (spoiler: we didn’t).

Pros:

Warmth for days – Great for still hunts and long sits in the blind

More comfort in cold treestands – No more hopping around to keep blood flowing

Ideal for snow, ice, and deep cold – Like January in Wisconsin cold

Cons:

Too warm for early season or mobile hunts – You’ll feel like you’re walking on boiled potatoes

Heavier and bulkier – Makes sneaking through thick brush more of a “clomp-fest”

Takes longer to dry – If they get wet inside, pack extra socks (and prayers)

Side note: one buddy of mine wore his insulated boots for spring turkey in Alabama... came back looking like he’d wrestled a swamp gator and lost. His feet? Looked like boiled hams.

🥾 Non-Insulated Hunting Boots – Lightweight, Versatile, and Sweaty (Sometimes)

These are the go-to for early-season deer, upland bird hunting, or really any time the mercury isn’t hovering below freezing. They’re breathable, quick to dry, and a heck of a lot more forgiving when you're hiking miles of backcountry.

I personally wear my non-insulated pair from September to mid-November in the Carolinas—unless there’s a freak cold front, which, let’s be honest, has been happening more often than not lately.

Pros:

Lightweight and breathable – Perfect for run-and-gun turkey hunting or spot-and-stalk elk

Faster to dry – If you cross a creek, your boots bounce back quicker

Less foot fatigue on long hikes

Cons:

Can’t hold heat – Even thick wool socks won’t save you in 20°F

Less padding for long sits – Your feet will know it, and so will your mood

Can freeze overnight – Left 'em outside your tent? Good luck getting 'em back on

So... Which Should You Choose?

It’s all about matching your boot to your hunt.

Cold, static hunts → Go insulated. Tree stands, late-season elk, snow-covered duck blinds.

Warm or active hunts → Stick with non-insulated. Upland birds, spring turkey, or hiking-heavy mule deer trips.

Still not sure? Ask yourself this: Are you gonna be moving most of the day, or are you gonna be waiting? If it’s the latter, insulation will be your best pal. If it’s the former, you’ll overheat faster than a beagle chasing a rabbit.

And hey, if you’ve got the coin, buy both. Your feet will thank you—eventually.

Final Thoughts from the Field

Last November, I swapped to insulated boots mid-season after freezing my tail off up in the Adirondacks. Best decision I made all year (well, that and leaving the gas stove just cracked open in the tent for heat... don’t do that, by the way. Real dumb). Point is, the right boots aren’t just comfort—they’re safety, endurance, and success wrapped into one tough pair of leather.

So when you’re gearing up, don’t just grab whatever’s on sale. Think terrain. Think weather. Think about that time your buddy Dan got trench foot ‘cause he wore the wrong boots in duck season. Don’t be Dan.

[lighthousenewsnetwork]

In a move that many are calling highly illegal, the state senate of Alabama has voted to have all atheists leave the state within 72 hours. The vote was 96 to remove all atheists, 1 to allow them to stay, and 3 abstentions. One of the atheists, identified as Zandra Meadowmill, 86, said that she was born and raised in the "Cotton State," and she remarked that they can pepper spray her, or taser her, or tar and feather her, but she ain't leaving. The state's attorney general said that Meadowmill will leave or they will have Alabama state troopers forcibly put her on a Greyhound bus and ship her up to Nova Scotia, Canada. https://lighthousenewsnetwork.com/the-alabama-state-senate-has-informed-atheists-to-leave-the-state-within-72-hours/?feed_id=14352&_unique_id=67bb3284baf52

[finnaaustin]

Finn Erickson is 44 years old and was born in Kismet Harbor, Oregon. He’s been back in Kismet Harbor for 15 years and is the owner of Whiskers Haven Cafe and owns/operates Live Long and Pawsper Animal Rescue. He is currently single and is staying in Cresthill Meadows.  

FULL NAME:

Phinneas Cole Erickson

NICKNAME(S):

Finn ; Finnocence

AGE:

44 years old

OCCUPATION:

Cat Daddy

Barista

Owner of Whiskers Haven Cafe and Operator/Owner of Live Long and Pawsper Animal Rescue

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS:

5 Bedroom Home in Cresthill Meadows, situated on 10 acres of land for the rescue

LENGTH OF TIME IN KISMET HARBOR:

Born and raised - only moved to attend college and get his degree

FC:

Luke MacFarlane

CHARACTER INFORMATION

BIRTHDAY:

January 19, 1980

ZODIAC SIGN:

Capricorn

PLACE OF BIRTH:

Kismet Harbor, OR

HOMETOWN:

Kismet Harbor, OR

GENDER & PRONOUNS:

Male ; He/Him

SEXUAL ORIENTATION:

Gay

RELATIONSHIP STATUS:

Single

POSITIVE TRAITS:

Patient

Empathetic 

Altruistic

Romantic

Compassionate 

NEGATIVE TRAITS:

Workaholic

Introverted

Quick to Judge

Reserved

Reckless

PERSONAL

LANGUAGE(S):

English

EDUCATION:

High School Diploma from Kismet Harbor High School (class of 1998)

Bachelor’s degree in Business from Columbia University (class of 2002)

Bachelor’s degree in Animal Care from Auburn University (class of 2007)

VEHICLE(S):

2024 Hyundai Ioniq 5

Harley Davidson motorcyle

AVERAGE SALARY:

It ain’t about the money 

PAST LIVING LOCATIONS:

New York/Alabama  

APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 

6’2”

HAIR COLOR:

Dark Brown

EYE COLOR:

Blue 

TATTOOS:

None

PIERCINGS:

Ears

FACTS

LIKES:

Reading 

The Outdoors

Swimming

Spending time with his animals 

Sports

Watching television and movies 

DISLIKES:

Mushrooms

Pickles

Asparagus 

Bigots

Racists

Homophobia

HOBBIES:

Football

Woodworking

Photography

Video games

Gardening 

TOWN ACTIVITIES:

Art of Photography

Elevated Escapades

LGBTQIA+

Mindful Madness

The Renegades

MEDICAL CONDITIONS:

None so far

ALLERGIES:

Shellfish

PHOBIAS & FEARS:

Not making a difference

Losing people he loves

DRINKING, DRUGS, & SMOKING HABITS:

Drinks occasionally 

No Drugs

Does not smoke 

FAVORITES

ALCOHOLIC DRINK:

Whiskey

ANIMAL:

Quokka

COLOR:

Purple

DESSERT:

Chocolate

DRINK:

Hot Tea/Water

FOOD:

Greek

HOLIDAY:

Halloween

ICE CREAM:

Strawberry

MOVIE:

Avatar

MUSIC:

Rock

Classical

SEASON:

Fall

RELATIONSHIPS

MOTHER:

Stella Diane Erickson (strained)

FATHER:

Daniel Grant Goodman (strained)

SIBLINGS:

1 brother - Jasper Erickson (deceased)

CHILDREN:

His rescues are his children

EXTENDED FAMILY:

Waverly Erickson (sister-in-law)

PAST RELATIONSHIPS:

TBD

CLOSE FRIENDS:

TBD 

PETS:

A cat named Sully and a dog named Stitch

BIOGRAPHY

TW: HOMOPHOBIA ; BULLYING ; NON-PARENTAL ACCEPTANCE ; CLOSETED ; PET DEATH ; DEATH ; CANCER

Phinneas was born under a Capricorn moon in the early hours or January 19th, 1980, the last night of the Capricorn zodiac. Not that Finn knew what that meant of course. His mom would tell everyone that she knew immediately that he was going to be a boy and that he was going to do great things with his life because that was the Erickson way! Growing up his childhood was normal, he played sports, loved the outdoors, and was very good with his hands. He also loved animals. There was never a moment where he ran away from anything, not even after running into a hornet’s nest while escaping from the school bullies. They ran like cowards but not Finn. No he stood his ground and let them sting him because that meant he had won, even if his dad would disagree, telling him he needed to be more assertive and stand up for himself. “Be a man!” He’d said, despite the fact that he was only 7 years old. After this, Finn stopped complaining about the bullying, telling himself that they would grow out of it.

When his brother Jasper was born, Finn knew that it was up to him to be the best older brother he could be, taking care of him while mom and dad slept or ran errands. He was barely in his teens but his younger brother was his entire world and here was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect him. They played rec ball together until Jasper got too good for their silly team and joined the school team playing baseball. He was good. Better than Finn could have ever imagined and in some small way, he was jealous. He was supposed to be the athletic one. But no matter, it gave Finn time to pursue other interests - like animals and the occasional relationship. Finn was a good looking guy and everyone in the school took notice, especially all the young ladies. Finn would flirt and entertain the idea of taking them out, and some of them he did, but deep down, he knew it didn’t feel right. His eyes should be focusing on them, on their curves and their lips, he should want to kiss them but… he didn’t. Instead, he was distracted by the players in their uniforms, the handsome exchange student from France that kept looking at him with that amazing smile, their next door neighbor who was always swimming in the pool. He had to be careful however because if the wrong person took notice of his gaze, well, it would not be good.

He knew he was different but he didn’t want to be. He knew his parents would never accept having a son who didn’t live up to their expectations so he kept it hidden, dating females or not at all, carrying on secret affairs with the other gay kids at their school just to make himself feel normal. Graduation came and went and he left home to head to Columbia for college, graduating in 4 years with a degree in business. Still wrestling with his sexuality, Finn decided that a change of scenery would be good, he left New York to attend Auburn University, earning a bachelor’s degree in Animal care, bringing him one step closer to his dream of owning his own company, one that would bring his love of animals and people together. He was in his 3rd year when he got the news that his brother was sick so he took a leave of absence and headed back home where he learned that Jasper had developed cancer. It was a shock to his system - his little brother, the one he swore to always protect - was dying from something he couldn’t control. He felt numb, not sure what he was supposed to do or say. It was during this time that he grew close to his sister in law, Waverly, helping her through the grieving process as best he could. They were shoulders to lean and cry on and it was tough to see the other fight so hard to stay calm when all they wanted to do was scream. When he died, that’s just what he did. There was so much left unspoken and it angered him. How could the world be so cruel? They were Erickson’s, they didn’t let things like cancer beat them!

After a few more weeks to grieve, he returned to school to finish his degree. He graduated with honors but that still didn’t quell the hole in his heart. He didn’t want to go home to Kismet Harbor, he had a good life in Alabama, a handsome boyfriend, a nice group of friends, but something was missing. Something unfinished. He had finally accepted himself during his time in college and it was time that he came out to his friends and family. After coming out to Waverly first, it was easier of course given how close they had grown during their mourning, he headed over to his parents house. He would be lying if he said he expected them to just hug him and say that they accepted him for who he was - no the reception was cold and even though they didn’t immediately disapprove, he could tell that they didn’t accept him. ‘Great. Now who’s going to give us grandkids? You can’t reproduce and your brother is dead. Looks like the Erickson name dies with you.’

It was a shock to say the least and he immediately left Kismet Harbor, ready to stay in Alabama with Ian to start his nonprofit animal rescue but that dream was dashed the minute he returned and saw his boyfriend in the arms of another - a woman. Their mutual friend. He broke up with him and went back home, deciding then and there to make a life for himself in Kismet Harbor, even if the memories were hard to replay. He opened up a cat cafe and after a few years of excellent profit, he had saved enough to open his own rescue - in honor of his brother and his love of Star Trek - called Live Long and Pawsper. Now the only thing missing from his life is someone to eventually share it all with.

[lucygraysboy]

“mhm, my rainbow princess is the most beautiful princess in the whole wide world. those stuck-up disney bitches, cinderella and aurora, can’t even dream of competing with you,” he muses with a laugh, blushing as her warm brown eyes refocus on him. he can feel his heart doing somersaults in his chest each time she giggles, swelling so impossibly that he can barely breathe. “doesn’t sound like nothin’. sounds like you and bambi are makin’ fun of me.” pouting dramatically, he lowers his head and does his best to look sad, just to see what she’ll do about it. “that’s true. i ain’t got no wings, just useless paws. what will i do if my birdie decides to fly away one day?” he sighs, shaking his head and trying real hard to refrain from grinning as her hand pats his arm. she’s so sweet. “awe, thank you for the kind words. these little leggies deserve only the best treatment. look at ‘em, bet they’re tired, been dancin’ and walkin’ for hours.” he gently squeezes her knee, laughing when she clumsily smears the cold lotion across his arm and chest. he appreciates the gesture, his heart melting and nerve endings tingling as her delicate palm rubs his pecs, coaxing a bashful chuckle out of him. “my spider monkey.” cooing as she wraps herself around him, his hands rubbing her back, he picks her off the counter with such ease, as if she were weightless. “your husband and your daddy.” he has to bite back all of these silly alabama jokes that are threatening to escape him, using his elbow to turn off the bright lights on his way out. a sad thought crosses his mind, has him wondering if any man has ever carried her to bed like this when she was little and needed someone to make her feel safe and loved. did her stepfather ever do stuff like this? “i’ll always love you, lucy gray,” he whispers softly, laying her down on the king size bed, one of his knees digging into the mattress, waiting for her to let go. though, there’s a part of him that wants to crash right here on top of her, the feeling of her slender fingers tangled in his curls, her soft skin against his, he would sleep like a baby… “i’ll go get you water and your teddy, and be right back, okay?” he muses, smiling down at her as the pad of his thumb strokes her chin.

head gently turns to find her reflection in the mirror, a smile immediately spilling over olive features. “mee?” brows lifting, a sugary giggle sounding from her. “aaawww. mhhm i guess she is since prince billby says soo.” twirling a curl around her finger, she redirects the love drunk gaze she has on billy. then laughs again at him asking her what’s so funny… each time he asks that lucy gray finds it so amusing. “nnushing.” shaking her head, covering her mouth to hide the devious smile, glancing down at her bib when he uses it to clean her chin. she makes a disapproving face, turning her chin up. “nooo, not heavy. you jus’ didn’t grown any wings.” she pets his arm to try and console him. “you are a great great great lotion rubber. billby’s the bes’ lotion rubber mmm-hhhhmm.” could sit here all night and have her tired legs rubbed like this, she dips her fingers in the jar while he’s doing this, rubbing some on her arms. not blending very well… then dipping her fingers in the yellow jar of lotion again and this time rubbing some into billy’s shoulder and across his chest. she giggles getting to touch then puts the lid on the lotion jar before arms curl around his neck and legs latch onto his hips. a warm happy feeling making her heart flutter when he kisses her cheek. “than’ you, my lotion prince, my husban’ ann my daddy.” she tightly hugs him, hand cradling the back of his head, fingers digging into his curls and her nose nuzzles him against his cheek and ear. little girl her pretending he’s her husband again. little girl her also pretending he’s the dad she always wanted. both of these sides that stayed buried coming out of her while intoxicated, especially since she acted tough and acted like the lack of a father figure didn’t bother her most of the time when she kept it locked inside: on how much it does. lucy gray never allowed herself to look this vulnerable about the dad topic, so this was a big secret unrevealing itself with no sobriety to keep her from keeping it inside.

[leonbloder]

I’m In A Hurry (And I  Don’t Know Why)

This morning I sat looking at my schedule, and all of the tasks that I need to get done, meetings to attend, and all of the rest of it, and I sighed heavily before saying to no one in particular: "There are not enough hours in the day."

At that point, for some reason, I heard a song playing in my head that I didn't expect. It was the song "I'm In A Hurry (And Don't Know Why)" from the country group Alabama (remember them?)

Those guys were huge back in the early 1980s.  Even the pop stations were playing their songs on repeat.

Here are the lyrics that were going through my head, just for reference:

Oh, I hear a voice That says I'm running behind I better pick up my pace It's a race and there ain't No room for someone in second place I'm in a hurry to get things doneI rush and rush until life's no funAll I really gotta do is live and die, butI'm in a hurry and don't know why

Naturally, I became curious about why that particular song came to mind. Then I started thinking about how many of us are simply "getting through" the days of our lives without really "living through" them.

In case you're wondering, I can just listen to a song without having some existential moment, but when a random Alabama tune pops into my head, that has to be Divine intervention.  

While pondering this, I remembered something I read from author John Koenig a few weeks ago.  He wrote about this very issue---the fact that most people spend far too much time trying to build a life but seldom live in it:

Maybe the trouble is, you were never really "in it" to begin with. Maybe when you first started building the life you wanted, you put so much thought into what might happen that you started losing sight of what was happening.  As if you had known all along that this wasn't the world you expected.  A world so low and common that you tried to keep your distance, so you began floating somewhere above it, where nobody else could look down on this life you built. That is, nobody else but you.

Maybe you find yourself in this very situation.  You are looking around you, wondering how you got where you happen to be.  You might even say, "This isn't the life I expected or wanted."

It could be that you spent so much time hurrying, building, moving from one task to the other, trying to do what you thought was expected of you that you never stopped to live the life you were creating.

Jesus warned his disciples about this when he told them to stop worrying so much about getting ahead, having enough, and hurrying around for no good reason.  He urged them to stop and  "consider the lilies" and focus on the sparrows---to pause, breathe, and simply be.  

One of the many things that often gets lost when people reflect on Jesus' teachings is the fact that he was constantly urging his followers to be grounded in the now, to be present in their lives, and to slow down and look around them.

Jesus inhabited his humanity more thoroughly than anyone around him.  He enjoyed eating with friends, attending parties, and quiet moments in prayer, and he was also fully aware of the needs of the people he encountered because he was willing to stop and be present with them.

Perhaps those of us who spend so much time hurrying through the life we're building should slow down and follow Jesus' example.

If we become more purposeful, attentive, and present in our lives, we might discover that what we thought we were building wasn't what we truly wanted all along.  

We might find that inhabiting our humanity and looking around for the signs and symbols of eternal life right here and now is what it means to truly live.

May it be so for all of us.  And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen.  

[humansofnewyork]

(9/13) “August 3rd, 2016. There was heat that took the breath out of you: Alabama, 150-degree, muggy, humid, nasty fucking heat. Thankfully I was the landscape clerk, so I had my own desk. I was sitting there when I heard this jive turkey redneck voice over the intercom, asking me to report to the warden’s office at 12:30. It sounded like I was in trouble. I went to lunch, asked a few people what was going on. But nobody knew. When I get to the office there’s like eight guys sitting on the bench outside. Nobody knows each other, nobody’s talking, nobody knows what’s going on. But at some point it hits me, and I ask: ‘Did everyone here apply for clemency?’ And they said yes. And I said: ‘Well guys, this is it.’ They got called in one-by-one. And one-by-one they came out, each one of them cursing and slamming the door. I’m thinking: ‘Fuck, this ain’t good.’ I was the last name called. The phone on the desk started ringing the second I walked in. The associate warden tells me to pick it up. Touching the warden’s phone means six months in the shoe, so I hesitated. He says: ‘That’s a direct order.’ So I pick up the phone, and a female voice says: ‘Is this Mr. Gargano?’ And I’m like, ‘yah.’ And the voice says: ‘We’re calling to let you know that President Obama signed your petition this morning. You’re going home in four days.’ I went completely numb. I don’t think I even gave her a proper thank you. The landscape clerk has a golf cart. So I sleepwalked to my golf cart, and I drove it to a courtyard. I’d planted some flowers there: it was part of my responsibility. I sat down on a bench, and I cried. I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to scream. There was a fucking 4th of July firework finale going on in my heart, but I kept it under a blanket. There were other guys around, who might be more deserving than me, and I wanted to be respectful. So I just cried. I cried for an hour. I stayed there until it was getting close to count time, then I walked back to my unit. I called my mom. She said: ‘Johnny, what’s wrong?’ I said: ‘Nothing’s wrong, Mom.’ She said: ‘Johnny, what is it? What’s wrong?’ I said: ‘Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I’m coming home. I’m coming home in four days.’”

[hecateisalesbian]

I made a post on this kinda stuff, which I think can be found if you search up heat exhaustion, but basically the three most important things for the summer is staying hydrated, wearing sunscreen, and being wary of all heat related illnesses. This is a graphic that can help you be informed on differences between things like heat cramps and heat stroke

I mean it when I say DRINK YOUR FREAKING WATER. And this is coming from someone who hates water. This summer is likely going to break record high temperatures once again and living in the South. I’m talking everyone in Texas, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Missouri, Louisiana, all that stuff. Water is what will keep you cooled and will prevent things like heat stroke. You should be drinking about 80 ish ounces of water a day. If you can’t manage that, doing a half-assed job is better than drinking no water at all. If you are planning to be outside for more than 30 minutes, especially if you are doing work (ex. Gardening, construction, beach stuff, basic summer pier jobs), please bring a tumbler full of water. Try and find ways to drink water if you have issues with it. Drinking from straws, room temperature, with ice, with fruit flavorings, in a cup, in a bottle, etc. And don’t skimp out on sunscreen. I don’t care how much you want that summer tan, you do NOT want skin cancer. Try taking breaks from the sun when possible. Reapply sunscreen every few hours (SPF 50 is fine), and reapply it even more often when doing water activities. Don’t forget your face and ears when applying. And for pet owners, DONT FREAKING TAKE YOUR DOG FOR A WALK MIDDAY. That pavement will be hot as hell and will burn the paws of their feet. Try going in the early morning. Make sure your dog is also supplied with shade and water. For people working jobs that require long amounts of sun exposure, TAKE SHADE BREAKS. I don’t care if you think you have to much work. Take the breaks. Every 30 minutes at the minimum. I’m someone who overheats very easily and can’t survive in warm temperatures for very long. However I often help my mom with wedding ceremonies and receptions, which means I do a whole lot of hauling large objects up and down stairs and across hot pavement. Shade breaks will make you feel much better and drink water when you can. Avoid going out in the sun too much if you can. Apply aloe Vera to sun burns and wear loose short clothing. Tank tops and shorts. Find areas with AC rooms, such as malls, movie theaters, and indoor restaurants. Summer ain’t a joke. Please stay safe :)

note: I’m also not a professional, but I know a lot when it comes to summer time

Small reminder for my Texas/southwest peope. Going to be expecially nasty next week. Stay hydrated, stay cool, keep an eye on your neighbors.

[marvelcriminalhoe]

Sweet Home Georgia Peach

Sweet Home Alabama AU! Steve Rogers x Reader

Chapter 4

Joint Account

Word Count: 1,653

Series Masterlist

“Oh my holy lord above, is that my peaches?” Your mom cheers from the porch swing, seeing you walk up the way.

You smile, comfort filling your bones and replacing some of the remorse that’s taken hold of you in this town, “Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, baby.” You mom pulls you in for a tight hug, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming into town?” “It was last minute.” You mumble, the exhaustion of the past few hours catching up to you.

Your mom hums, “Well, I got some dinner in the fridge I can heat up for you, and then in the morning, we’ll go get that rental car.”

You pull back, looking at her with a question in you eyes.

Your mom laughs, “Honey, you think you can step foot anywhere in Georgia and I won’t know about it?” You chuckle as you follow her inside, watching as she grabs the plate of food and heats it up for you. Sending you a look over her shoulder, “Wanna tell me what you were arrested for this time?”

“Nothing.” You roll your eyes, “Just a misunderstanding.” “Uh huh.” She says unimpressed, “That’s what you said when Ol’ Sheriff Baker caught you out after curfew when you were 15.”

“That man had it out for me.”

She sets the plate in front of you, brushing some hair out of your face, “Sure he did, baby.”

After you finish your food, the first real home cooked meal you've had in way too long, you watch as your mom cleans your plate, “Where’s Pops at?”

“Oh, you know your father and his Thursday nights. He downs at Tony’s, pretending he knows anything about poker.”

After a short catch up with your mom, you head into your old bedroom, looking as it did when you were 18 and still lived at home. You sigh, falling onto the bed and succumbing to sleep almost immediately when your head hits the pillow.

The next morning, your awoken from the sun pouring in through the window by you bed, making you groan and sit up, scrubbing you face with your hands. You make your way down the hall to the kitchen, seeing your dad reading the paper and your mom at the stove.

“Eggs this morning, baby?” Your mom asks.

You grunt out a reply that sounds like yes, sitting down at the table.

Your father laughs, “Seems you’re still not a morning gal. Thought city life would change that.”

“It’s a night time city, daddy.” You grumble, “Hustle n’ bustle till dawn.”

After you eat, and drink enough coffee for a small army, you sit in the passenger seat of your dads truck as he drives you to Steve’s to pick up your rental car.

“Funny the first place you go is his house.” Your dad comments.

You roll your eyes at his attempt to sound coy, “We have unfinished business.”

He looks over at you, “Right, the divorce.” You turn your head to look at him, “How do you know we aren't divorced yet?”

“Your Ma wouldn't stop talking bout it last night. Kept going on an on. I had to turn the fan on to drown her out so I could get some sleep.” He chuckles. “And how, may I ask, does Mama know?” He sends you a pointed look, “I know it’s been awhile since you've been home, but we both know ain’t nothin happen in this town without that woman hearing ‘bout it.”

You grumble in your seat, knowing that the whole town probably knows your still married now. You wanted this to be easy. In and out. Quick dealing.

But no. Steve has to go and be difficult about it, refusing to sign the damn papers for god knows what reason. You honestly have no idea why. Its not like you’re asking for anything. He got the house, and the truck and the dog. All you took was a suitcase of your clothes and the old beat up car you sold the moment you got to New York.

Walking to the rental car, you see Captain laying down by the drivers side door. He perks up when he spots you, standing up and wagging his tail. He relishes in the loving scratches you give him behind his ears.

“I missed you too boy.” You whisper to him. God did you miss this dog. Honestly, you would have taken him with you if you could have. But it wouldn't have been fair to him. He needs land to roam and to play. He wouldn’t be happy in a small apartment in the city. So you left him behind too, no matter how much it killed you to do it, “I’ll see you again before I leave, okay?” You promise him.

You get into the car, driving back to your parents house so you can finally shower and get out of your dirty clothes. As your drying your hair with a towel, looking in the mirror, looking at your reflection, your mind cant help but wander through memories of your past self being in this house, in this exact spot, getting ready all those years ago.

You’re applying the red lipstick Nat got you for your birthday, checking to make sure your corners are clean before throwing it in your purse. You do a once over, checking your outfit out. The white sun dress is risky, sure, but you can’t help but want to wear it. Your black boots match well with their white detail stitching.

The knock on the front door has you grabbing your purse and making a beeline for it, hoping to intercept before your mom gets it. Trying to push your way through the door way, Steve sidesteps you, giving you a pointed look, “You know I can’t go anywhere without greetin’ your parents, darlin’.”

“Steve—“ “Nope.” He shakes his head, pushing the front door open, “What kind of man would my Ma have raised if I just left without saying hello.”

You huff, following him inside. No matter how many dates you two go on, or how many years your parents have known him, he never wavers in his “gentleman” ways. You would be more annoyed if he didn't look so damn charming talking to your mom in the kitchen. Finally, as he promises your parents to have you home by curfew, he escorts you out of the house with his hand on the small of your back. Opening the passenger side door to his old truck and helping you in.

He smiles at you, “You look good, darlin’.” Leaning down to give you a chaste kiss.

You can’t help but admire him as he closes the door, walking around to the drivers side and getting in himself. He takes your hand as he starts to drive, kissing your knuckles as you find a station to listen to.

Who knew you could be this in love at 16.

Getting out of your car, you make your way into the only bank in town, walking up to the counter, “Excuse me.”

The lady working the counter turns around, “Can I help you, honey? You needin’ directions or somethin’?” You pull your sunglasses off your face, recognition dawning in the older woman eyes, “Well I’ll be.” She smiles.

You greet her kindly, “Hi miss Pepper.”

“I heard a rumor you were in town.” She shakes her head, “What can I do for you, sugar?”

“Your ATM outside is down.” You gesture out the window.

Pepper rolls her eyes, “I told Tony to fix that thing days ago. I can do the withdraw from here though, don’t worry.”

You smile, getting your wallet out to hand her your card. She waves you off, “Don’t worry honey I don’t need that thing.”

You send her a confused look, “You don’t?”

“Nah.” She shakes her head, “Its the joint account, right?”

“Joint account?” You repeat slowly.

Pepper smiles a little bashfully, “Well, you know I don’t like the town gossip, but I might have heard how you two are still married.”

A thought pops into your head, a smirk forming on your lips. You drop your wallet back into your purse, “Yes. The joint account. Right.”

Walking out of the bank, you run into a body. Reaching out to steady the person and yourself you start apologizing, “I’m so sorry.” “It was my fault ma’am.” The person does the same.

You look up, your brain acknowledging the voice, “Clint?”

“Peaches?” Clint smiles as he sees your face. He pulls you into a tight hug, similar to the one Sam gave you yesterday, “Peaches! Dear lord it’s good to see you.” “You too!” You laugh as you pull back, “How are you doing?” “I’m good.” He nods, a wide smile on his face, “Married now, kid on the way.”

The news shocks you a little, your smile dimming a bit. You’ve missed a lot. The pain of not being around for those events hurts, “Wow. Thats— that’s great. Congrats.” “Thanks, darlin’.” Clint’s smile fades a little too, no doubt thinking along the same lines was you, “We— we would have invited ya but Steve was there an—“

You wave him off, putting a big smile back on your face to mask the underlining sadness, “Don’t worry about it.” You laugh, trying to get rid of some of the awkwardness in the air surrounding you know, “I was probably too busy working anyway.” “Right.” He nods.

You clear your throat, “It was good to see you, but I have some stuff I gotta do.”

“Of course, yeah.” He lets go of your arms, watching as you make your way to your car. Before you can get in, he calls your name out, “It was good to see you. Really.”

You smile, sending him a small wave as you close the door. You take a big breath as you pull away, trying to ignore the ache in your bones.

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