#Shiela Burns

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

Tight space

Sniper x f!reader

You and sniper were running at full speed looking for somewhere to hide as the opposing teams spy tailed you. Though there was practically nothing either of you could do considering you had no ammo and no one was around, you managed to find a small place to hide. It looked to be another spot sniper was familiar with, one he’s definitely been in while doing his job. You both bolted towards it, you tried to keep up with sniper as best as you could. When you two finally reached the door Sniper shouted for you to hurry as he held the door open waiting for you. Once you got in Sniper quickly jumped in and slammed the door. He slid his knife through the handle to make sure the Spy couldn’t pull it open.

Your breathing was uneven and heavy

Sniper motioned to you to quiet down as he head the footsteps around your hiding place.

You nodded and steadied your breathing.

You two were incredibly close with one another right now.. and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t kind of turn you on in a weird way.

You admired Snipers calm composure.. how he was so calm in this situation, you didn’t know.

A loud thud pulled you out of your imagination and you were slung into the man’s chest earning a grunt from him. One of his free hands instinctively grabbed you while his other held onto the small wall to hold himself up.

You looked up at him, your ear on his chest.. hearing his heartbeat was an indescribable feeling. You felt safe, even with everything going on outside of your shared hiding place.

“You okay?” He looked around and then down at you, locking eyes through his yellow tinted sunglasses.

You stood back up straight “yeah- sorry.”

“No worries.”

You looked the man up and down, stopping when you noticed a growing bulge in his pants.

You averted your eyes hoping he didn’t catch you staring

“Sorry about that- it kind of just happens yaknow?” Sniper whispered

You nodded as your face was heating up. The way he whispered sent chills down your spine. God the way he spoke.

You clenched your legs together.

“Can you see anything?”

“No, unfortunately not, Shiela” sniper looked down at your smaller form.

You unconsciously squirmed from his gaze

“You doing okay?”

You nodded “just- hot-“

“You sure?” Sniper smirked at you

“O- of course.. what else would it be?” You looked down at your feet

“I dunno, you weren’t acting all this weird before I caught you staring.”

You locked eyes with Sniper “I wasn’t staring” you rolled your eyes

Sniper chuckled. “We’re here all alone, no one can hear you but me” Sniper moves closer towards you and let his gloved hand tilt your face in his direction. “Come on bird.”

His hard cock poking your stomach as he nudged your face

Your face was burning “oh god.. you know I love when you say that.”

He hummed in response, dipping his lips down to leave small bites and hickeys down your neck and collarbone.

“Sniper..” you whimpered out

“Yeah, roo?”

You sighed “Please stop teasing me..” you whispered

“Sounds like someone’s more eager than I am.” He chuckled

His low chuckles always sent a jolt of energy through your body

“Alright then, be a good girl and turn around for me.”

You did what you were told. Sniper came up behind you, fiddling with your belt as he kissed and nipped at your neck more, leaving sharp, dark bites from his teeth.

His gloved hand made its way to your clothed pussy. Teasingly stroking your clit through your panties that seemed to get more wet through the second.

“Soaking through your panties already? Naughty girl, Y/n”

He slipped underneath your panties and started messing with your soaked, slick, sticky folds.

You moaned in response “please Mick.. just“ you attempted to grind against the man

“Oh y/n.. you know I can’t ever say no to ya’.” He undid his pants, peeled back the fabric of his boxers and allowed his cock to spring free against you.

He had to lift your smaller body up while he lined his cock up with your soaked hole.

He slipped the tip in and the used both of his hands to hold you just slightly off of the ground as you held onto the wall in front of you

He was literally using you as his own personal sex doll.

“Fuck, you’re so tight..” he muttered out as he began to fuck into you slowly. Gently kissing your shoulders and neck. His cock pressing deliciously against your cervix.

You bit your lip. Muffling your moans as he finally began to pick up the pace your legs shaking and dangling freely as he did so.

“No, don’t silence yourself. Be as loud as you want, baby.”

His cock pierced into you as you gripped onto the wall for dear life. Your orgasm was fast approaching and by the sounds of his uneven breathing and sharp, low moans, he was too.

You let out a loud moan as he continued to fuck into you. Your walls clenching around him “fuck! Harder! Please m-Mick. Harder! I’m so close oh god-“ you had a blissful fucked out dazed expression across your face as you felt his hard cock press against your tummy. A small bulge forming as he fucked harder into your tight cunt

“Good girl, this cunts mine, huh? Nobody else’s” his voice was low and oh god.. that accent could make a pornstar blush. You only mumbled at his words “fuck, oh good god, yes!-“

His orgasm crashed into him as he fucked into you, his hot cum leaving a heavy feeling inside of your lower tummy. It sent shocks down your spine as your own orgasm rushed over you. His grip tightened as you milked him for every last drop of his hot sticky cum. He groaned and held you there, pulling you back onto his cock harshly while you two worked through your orgasm. He loomed over you while the two of you stayed put. A loud bang fell onto the door. A bullet shot right past the two of you. You instinctively clenched around him as you gasped out of fear. Sniper hissing at the feeling

“I can hear you both. How disgusting, you filthy bushman. During battle of all times?”

[lxdymoon0357]

Helloo it's 📻😈 here and I just wanted to ask of you could do a Kaufman x Gn Reader (Romantic) the content is up to you :))

(Alright, I free-styled this shit!! not proof read cause I ever proof read my works, also this has a bit of my irl memories in it!!)

With a bowl of spicy soup...

You neck and head all woozy as you woke up, you knew you had a cold and it was going to be horrible, you honestly expected Kaufman to be in his office and not in the bed still with you, you turn around and slowly shake him awake as he was also very warm and was sweating and shivering you knew what happened; you have a cold he has a fever and now you both are fucked…

As you both snuggled closer to each other, knowing you both were warm on the inside but you both were cold on the outside, you both couldn’t do anything about it only suffer. As Kaufman’s eyes opened a bit, he took a huge sniffle to clear his nose, but in process his head probably started hurting because he groaned and rubbed his forehead before wrapping an arm around and pulling you closer to him, as you rubbed his back, luckily the rays of the sun were quite warm yet just not enough to stop the coldness from swarming you and probably him as well. You groaned as you sat up, nose completely blocked and had boogers as you scrubbed them out annoyed, your chest hurting, back stiff and everything else foggy in your body, hearing your voice, Kaufman grumbled awake, and his throat hurting from the back and voice strained as he also felt the same suffocation…

You both stretched your whole body getting out the sickness fatigue and tiredness and sleepiness from it, as you stood up an elderly maid who served you both on the regular entered a smiled brightly but looking at both of your flushed, sweaty and shivering bodies, she got worried and as she put her hands on both of your foreheads to check your temperature, “You both are burning up, please wait a bit!” she said before leaving to bring some things for you and Kaufman..

She got you both a tray of tea and breakfast and laid the huge tray on the table in your bedroom where sunlight was peeking out, you and Kaufman got out of the bed but the moment you both touched the floor with your feet, you again bundled yourself in the blankets into each other from the cold as you both shivered, the elderly maid or Miss. Shiela was she was called sighed as she left the room and got you both slippers, and thick shawls…

You both covered yourself in the shawls and slippers before sitting on the table, and sighing in delight from the warm rays of the sun hitting your body…Miss Shiela started pouring you both tea, as you started eating, it was quite late, you both didn’t wake up due to the fatigue and thus Miss Shiela came up to not only serve you breakfast but also your lunch…

You both sat there chatting and eating with your sore throats, as Miss Shiela gave you both medicine which tasted horrible, she made sure to check up on you both every once in a while…After during the afternoon, it was starting to get very boring, it felt cold and hot…You both were still in the bedroom, you got as much rest as you both wanted but there was literally nothing to do!!

You both were bored, there was nothing to talk about, nothing to do and trying to do everything to pass the time which would just not pass by! The weather of the empire was very hot and you were very hungry…yet still somehow you wanted something spicy and hot despite much resistance by your beloved, you both sneaked down and into the kitchen where you found Miss Shiela whom scolded you for coming to such a place while being sick she immediately sent you both back, and instead made sure to take your orders to cook you both something..

“But I want to cook!!!”

“But my grace, you’re sick! You can’t go there to the kitchen, your sickness might pass on…I’ll cook!”

“Actually I’m with my darling on thi side, I also want to cook, staying in bed is boring…”

“….ugh…okay, fine, I have a way…Please wait here…”

Miss. Shiela disappeared for an hour before coming to you both, by then it was nearly night when she came to your room with a huge bag, she took you both out on the huge balcony and set up a little stove for you both to cook, she brought you all the ingredients and everything and watched the process of one of you cutting and the other helping with anything else they could do…soon the pot was boiling over with a reddish, spicy soup filled with vegetables, the spicy smell of the soup made you both all the very hungry…

soon it was done, and as you both sat down to eat, you realized you didn’t have a plate yet Miss. Shiela by then was gone to do some of her other duties and you both didn’t want to disturb her, so you both started eating straight from the pot…it was very spicy and probably burnt away all the sins you committed during the week….As you both fed each other the little amount of the soup left, the taste of the spicy chilli, garlic, ginger and other spices tingled your taste-buds through the cold winds of the evening and night as you snuggled closer to each other in the blanket you shared….

Moments of cooking together, eating from the same pot and sharing a blanket all while being sick was very precious as you know you’ll hold it close to you heart…

[sixhours]

Chapter 15 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

You’re walking back from lunch at the mess hall when you see Ellie standing outside the clinic, looking lost. Her eyes widen when she sees you coming and she steps out to meet you at the door.

“Ellie? What’s wrong?”

“M’sick.”

She looks pale, a fine sheen of sweat on her brow. You press your wrist to her forehead, finding it warm. 

“Come in, let’s check you out. Does Joel know you’re here?”

She shakes her head, looking wan.

You reach for the walkie on your belt. “I’ll radio–”

“No!” The girl stops halfway through the door, looking up at you with wide eyes.  “Don’t. He thinks I’m in school.”

You narrow your eyes. “He’s not going to be upset at you for being sick.”

She shakes her head furiously. “Just…can you please not tell him?”

“Ellie, I can’t–”

She rolls her eyes, looking like she’s about to cry. “Fine. But…can you just wait? Please?”

You bite your lip. “Let’s go talk.”

You lead the way to the back of the clinic and set her up in the exam room, closing the door behind you.

She hisses when you move to take her right wrist to check her pulse. When you look into her face, she won’t meet your eyes.

“Ellie…did something happen?”

Her lashes are heavy, her breaths shallow and fast.

“Let me see,” you whisper.

She swallows hard, then grimaces as she pulls up her sleeve to reveal a patch of dirty gauze pressed to her inner forearm. The bandage sticks to her skin when you try to remove it, and Ellie makes a pained whimpering noise as you pull it from the wound. The place where her scar used to be is an angry pink splash of bubbled skin in an almost perfect rectangle. It’s a second-degree chemical burn, blistered and oozing, clearly infected.

You sit back, searching the girl’s face. “Did you do this?”

Ellie doesn’t answer.

“What did you use?”

No answer.

“Look, you need to tell me,” you say, trying to soften your voice. “I don’t want to try to treat it and do something that will make it worse.”

“Cleaner,” she says softly. “Found it in the supply closet at school.”

“When?”

She shrugs. “A few days ago.”

The clinical part of you admires the fact that she’s not writhing in agony, that she managed to hide it from Joel and her teachers and friends for so long–she probably would have succeeded if it hadn’t gotten infected.

“I can give you antibiotics for the fever and we have aloe for the burn. It’s probably going to scar. But…I’m guessing that was the idea?”

Her silence tells you everything.

“Are you frequently in the habit of harming yourself?”

Ellie snorts softly. “No.”

“Then what provoked this?”

She gives you a long look as if you should know the answer.

“And Joel doesn’t know,” you say more softly, a statement, not a question.

She shakes her head, lower lip trembling. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Let’s get you some antibiotics, I’ll take you home…then we’ll figure out what to do about your dad.”

~*~

You give Ellie a shot of penicillin and re-dress the burn, then let Shiela know you’re taking the girl home. Ellie drags her feet down Rancher Street, visibly tired and in pain but not eager to get there.

You send her upstairs as soon as you cross the threshold. “I’ll bring up some Tylenol in a few minutes. That should help with the fever.”

When you pad upstairs a few minutes later with a glass of water and two white pills, Ellie is sitting up in her bed wearing one of Joel’s gray T-shirts as a nightshirt. The sleeves go down to her elbows, the collar stretched over one shoulder. The white bandage on her arm stands out against her pale skin.

You sit on the edge of the bed and watch as she takes the Tylenol with a gulp of water. She regards you warily, pulling her knees to her chest under the blankets.

“You’re gonna tell him, aren’t you,” she mumbles, not a question.

“The school radios your guardian when you don’t show up. He probably already knows.”

“Oh…right.”

“So will you tell me why you did it?” you ask softly.

She considers you miserably. “I was with Dina…we were…um…and she…I wouldn’t…couldn’t take my, uh…my shirt…”

Her face flames red, her fingers picking at the skin around her cuticles until it bleeds. You reach over, gently separating her hands so she can’t make a bad situation worse.

“M’tired of being a fuckin’ freak,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around her legs and pressing her forehead into her knees.

“Ellie, does Joel know that you and Dina are…?”

She shrugs, then shakes her head, ducking her face into the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her eyes.

You remember your father calling your relationship “that lesbian phase” and how he insisted on introducing Joanna as your “friend” to extended family at holiday parties. Your father, well-mannered in his sharp suits and ties, couldn’t fathom why his baby girl would choose such a life for herself.

And then there’s Joel–rugged and gritty in flannel and plaid, an all-American man’s man–and you can’t blame her for thinking he’d see things one way. But he didn’t balk at your past and has never said an unkind word about your inclinations. You open your mouth to tell her as much, but you’re interrupted by the sound of the front door creaking on its hinges.

“Ellie! You here?”

Joel’s voice booms up the stairwell. He’s back from patrol, her name on his lips laced with panic.

“Here comes the firing squad,” she mutters.

“I’ll talk to him,” you sigh, closing her bedroom door behind you as he storms up the stairs. His eyes widen with dread when he sees you waiting for him on the landing.

“What happened? Got a call on the radio, said she missed school–”

“She’s fine. She’s resting.”

He tries to go around you, but you put up a hand and he all but crashes into it, pressing his chest into your palm. He glares at you in disbelief, jaw tightening as his concern turns to anger.

“What are you–”

“Joel, stop,” you say, in the tone you reserve for unruly patients. “She has a minor infection. I gave her antibiotics. She’s going to be fine.”

“An infect–what? Swear to god if that Jesse kid did anythi–”

“It’s not that kind of infection.”

“Then tell me what the fuck is goin’ on,” he growls.

“Christ, Miller. She needs a father right now. Not an attack dog,” you say, trying to keep your voice low. “If you can’t do that, you need to turn around and get that shit out of your system.”

His nostrils flare as you stare him down. You can feel the press of his breastbone against your palm, warm and heaving. For a second, you think he’s going to throw a punch, and part of you thinks you’d like to see him try.

Then the pressure on your wrist relents as he takes a step back, breathing hard.

“You good?”

“M’fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “M’good.”

“Alright.”

He sags into the doorframe when he sees her, curled on her side under the blanket, facing you both.  

“Ellie?” he clears his throat. “What, uh, happened?”

She looks at him, then back at you. You nod.

Show him.

She sits up, grimacing as she pulls back the fresh bandage to expose her forearm.

You watch his fists clench and unclench at his sides, and that far-off look drifts into his eyes. You find yourself moving closer, ready to step between them. Then he’s kneeling by the bed, taking her elbow in one large hand, careful not to touch the blistered skin.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers, voice cracking a little.

Ellie nods.

He swallows hard, tenderly replacing the bandage. He looks into her eyes. “Why?”

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” she whispers.

He considers this for a long time, then, without a word, gets up and leaves the room. You and Ellie make eye contact as his bootprints sound on the stairs and the front door slams.

“Wow, I feel so much fuckin’ better,” she groans.

“Rest,” you sigh. “He’ll come around.”

She gives you a look of bitter unbelief, then turns on her side and flops down, pulling the covers over her head.

You find him on the porch, hands gripping the railing like a lifeline. You can see the clench of his muscles under the sweat-soaked back of his T-shirt.

“That was good,” you say dryly. “She still thinks you’re mad at her…but points for not raising your voice.”

He snorts like a bull, rolling his eyes to the heavens.

“Look, I know we’re not supposed to talk about her scar–”

“Stop,” he says. It comes out as a plea, not a demand.

“...but I don’t think it’s about that,” you continue. “Not entirely.”

“S’that why she tried to burn the fuckin’ thing off?” he growls.

You shake your head. “She’s…different, Joel. And I don’t mean the scar.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

You fold your arms, cock your head. “I don’t think you know as much as you think you do. I think you’ve been so focused on her safety that you haven’t been listening to what she’s trying to tell you.

“She’s scared, Joel. She grew up in a military prison for children. She doesn’t know who she is, and she can’t figure it out because she’s terrified she won’t be who you need her to be.”

He stares at you, dumbfounded, muttering, “I don’t need her to be anything–”

“Every time you look at her, she worries you’re seeing your dead daughter.”

It’s a blunt weapon, and it lands like one. He sags back against the railing with so much hurt in his eyes, breath leaving his lungs in a wounded huff.

“I don’t know what happened out there,” you continue, gesturing beyond the walls. “But whatever it was…I think you need her more than she needs you…and that scares the shit out of you.”

 His jaw clenches.

“I’ve…never denied that,” he grates out after a long pause. “But I never ever saw her as less than whole. Never. Ellie is her own person…and she’s just as much a part of me…as…as Sarah was.”

There’s a heavy silence, with only the sound of his breathing and the crickets singing in the grass.

“I’m not the one who needs to hear it,” you say softly.

He closes his eyes, wincing, the pain flashing across his stoic face before he can button himself back up. You resist the urge to reach for him, to comfort him, because you know he won’t have it. You settle for putting a hand on his shoulder as you make for the stairs.

“I’ve got to get back. Just…listen to her. And tell her the truth.”

[femmesandhoney]

any book recommendations? not even just feminist literature (...though that's good too)

love your blog!

Fiction

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater, PJO, and Shadowhunter series by Cassandra Clare are classic beloved YA for me. Maggie Stief is my favorite author tho like she solos everyone else here

Jane Eyre by Brontë

JKR's Cormoran Strike series

Ninth House by Leigh Burdugo

The Vegetarian by Han Kang

Red Rising trilogy by Pierce Brown

A Darker Shade of Magic by VE Schwab

Autobiographies

The Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston

Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan

Non Fiction and other

If We Burn by Vincent Bevins

Quiet by Susan Cain

Extracting the Stone of Madness by Alejandra Pizarnik

Bowling Alone by Robert Putnam

The Russian Revolution by Shiela Fitzpatrick

Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

The American Revolution by James Bogg

Women Who Run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés

[weirdponytail]

My roommate and I have taken to naming our kitchen appliances after Red Vs Blue characters.

The coffeemaker is Wyoming because of the armor color. The toaster oven is Shiela because it burns fucking EVERYTHING no matter if you set it to friendly fire on or friendly fire off. We have a bright green electric kettle named Delta (currently in storage under the cabinet), and our previous coffeemaker was dark red/halo maroon and was called Simmons. Simmons got swapped out to our old coffeemaker (Wyoming) because while he was a brand new one he constantly burned the coffee, which somehow seems on brand for Simmons. Poor guy always tries so hard but messes up.

I’m currently debating the safety of naming our fire extinguisher Sarge.

[themist-underground]

How do you think a villain bonnie would play out

Okay so I thought about it for a bit, and since I have a hard time seeing Canon Bonnie becoming a true vilain - not just a dark version of herself, I was stuck. I imagine that she could have a hard/cold exterior but at her core she would always have a kind heart.

But then I thought maybe if in her earlier life she had a cataclysmic event that pushed her to snap...

As you know there's many plot holes and normalized abuse in TVD, and so many things that make NO sense... Bonnie is the last Bennett of her line, she's so rare and precious, yet no one protects her. Its mentionned that the Bennetts are so rare and special too. They are said to be fiercely powerful and independent yet they cannot help but being stuck in lives of servitude and loneliness...All those qualities and yet that kills them...

In the show, the Bennetts ancient blood and magic are so sought after, and I thought of how Kai stabbed Bonnie to get her blood, so he could get out of the Prison World without her.

So maybe in this horror AU, humans and occults, vampires most likely, hunt certain witches to harvest their blood and store it, maybe even sell it?? They do it so much that they're this close of going extinct.

Difference is Bonnie is treated as a precious person, she grows up in a protected place and nobody hid that she was a witch from her, so she's able to learn witchcraft earlier.

That would be a great opportunity for Bonnie "the last born and most powerful of her line" to mean something.

She would go ape shit on the vampires who used her, her family and used and killed so many witches. She would have the means because of her power and smarts. Even better if her family and ancetors are allies.

Instead of her dumbass obligation as Mystic Falls protector, she would choose to be a Witch Protector. Her goal would be to stop the Bennett murders and free every witches from those shackles. She would become a vilain with a goal that the viewer or reader could agree with, even if the means she use are somewhat immoral (think using dark magic like expression, manipulation, torture and murder).

Canon Bonnie has the potential to be an unstoppable and feared force. For once, I want her to embrace chaos instead of submitting to it.

(start of mini rant) Okay this is also me being blood thirsty, because TVD made me resent vampires so much, I used to like them, but in TVD they are so selfish and immature ugh. It's like humans and other occults are just NPCs in their world?? 😣😣(rant over)

Second Plot: One other thing that would make Bonnie snap (IMO) is if she loses her friends. In the show, because they didn't care about our sweet Bon and probably to make it easier for the teenagers to get into occult messes, they wrote her as having almost no family and being neglected and then rapidly she becoming an orphan. Her circle of friends are her found family. It's the one thing that keeps her going. It's the one thing that ties her to Mystic Falls.**

(second mini rant) **Like why would she stay and protect a town that's so dangerous and hostile to her kind, where her ancestors and close parents died in awful ways?? Not to mention she, herself, also died there. Twice! Emily was a slave, and after being betrayed she burned at the stake, so she was criminaly burned alive in the same place her innocent ancestors were murdered, and yet centuries after Shiela decided that secrecy was the thing that was going to protect her kin? I love Grams but wtf?? talk about generational curse and trauma whaaat *tears* (second mini rant over)

Her friends are everything to her, I hate it but she would literally give her life for them.

If they profoundly betrayed her, to the point she could never forgive them, that would deeply change her, but that might also give her space and freedom to live her life away from Mystic Falls. Let her give in to those hard emotions, she's not allowed to feel in the show:

anger

rage

resentement

loneliness

frustration

grief

being repressed, etc...

After fighting with her ex-friends, she wouldn't be a vilain for long, she would just do nothing with them. So I'm not sure it would count as a vilian!Bonnie storyline. But sometimes when you're a people pleaser being selfish and choosing yourself is like a bad thing. Also everyone that isn't a vampire or Matt is the enemy in this show, so maybe being an independent "selfish" black witch would be the equivalent of a vilain to them? lol

Third plot: If someone killed all her friends, and if even with all the magic and spell she could cast, she would be helpless to bring them back, she would just snap. It would be so tragic because she would have lost everyone. She would move earth for them or to avenge them. I can imagine her being ovewhelmed and mad with grief and her power would react to it.

Imagine her with 100% untamed magic. Her power alone would be something to be feared and in awe of.

So that's my take so far. I did read really good fanfics about Bonnie being a vilain or a mean girl I wonder if it's maybe that's what you thought of, when asking your question.

What do you think?

[rainydaydally]

Here in this labyrinth (I’m trapped) Chapter 3

Warnings:

Transphobia T-slur Dysphoria Being outed (obviously) Crying Mentions of homophobia Cussing

“Here. Walking to the front office to sign you out now.” His mom texts him. He lets out a sigh of relief as he reads the text. “Ok. Grabbing my things now.” He texts back. Kyle grabs his items, and gets another text from his mom. “Liane Cartman is here too. Principal Victoria needs to talk with us about something.” “Oh sh*t,” Kyle thinks. “If the principal wants to talk to her, then that means-” and coincidentally his thoughts were interrupted by someone on the loudspeaker saying “Kyle Broflovski to the principal’s office. I repeat, Kyle Broflovski to the Principal’s office.” Kyle sighs, exiting the classroom after hearing a collection of “Ooos” from his classmates.

Kyle opens the door to the principal’s office, with Cartman in one chair and his mom standing behind him, and Kyle’s mom standing behind a chair next to Cartman’s. “Oh god.” Kyle eyerolls when he sees Cartman. “Not this f*cking tr*nny again.” Cartman mumbles, though everyone could hear. “Eric!” Liane scolds.

“Okay, Kyle come in and sit down.” Principal Victoria says. Kyle shuts the door behind him and sits in the empty seat. “So Sheila, Liane, you are probably wondering why you are here. Eric has outed Kyle as a transgender male to the whole school, by taking pictures of his personal diary and putting them everywhere.” Principal Victoria explains, which results in a gasp from Kyle’s mom before she says “That’s terrible!” Liane also reacts, “Oh you poor boy.” She says to Kyle, before saying to Cartman, “Eric, you are in big trouble. You are now grounded for 6 months.” “Principal Victoria! There’s no proof I did that!” Cartman whines. “We have video cameras, you know. We watched the videos from last night of you sneaking in here.” “Jeez, how much of an idiot can you be, not even thinking to have a disguise or something?” Kyle sneers. “I did have one, though! How could you tell it was me?!” Cartman questions angrily. “Probably because you’re the fattest kid in town. No matter what disguise you wear people will know it’s Cartman.” Kyle says, “Kyle…” Principal Victoria sighs. “Eric, you just had a black t-shirt on, we could still see your face.” “No ski masks fit me!” Cartman whines, earning a laugh from Kyle.

“Anyways, I think that Eric deserves suspension for the rest of the week.” She says. “That’s like a vacation! He should be getting in trouble, not rewarded!” Kyle huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay, how about Eric stays late at school every day the rest of the month,” Cartman shrugs, but Principal Victoria wasn’t finished, “and while he’s here he has to write an essay on whatever topic Mr. Garrison chooses.” Cartman whines, “Mr. Garrison hates me!” A smug look appears on Kyle’s face, “I don’t care what it is, as long as he is upset about it.” He thinks, but he might as well have said it out loud. “Well, Kyle, you can go home now, this must be a very hard day for you.” Principal Victoria says to Kyle, who nods and feels his eyes start to burn. “Thanks for talking with me Sheila and Liane. Cartman, you can go back to class, and you won’t be leaving until 6 PM tonight.” Cartman grunts in response and leaves, and Kyle, Shiela, and Liane follow. Cartman heads the other way down the hall back to class, and the rest walk to the front doors.

“Goodbye, Sheila. See you soon, Kyle!” Liane says, and Kyle just gives her a shy wave as she gets inside her car, and him and his mom get into theirs. Before Kyle knows it, his mother’s arms are around him, tight. “Oh, Bubbie. You are my perfect boy, you know that? Do not listen to what Eric or any other horrible kid says to you.” Kyle feels warmth in his heart as he lets go of the embrace, and pulls his phone out of his pocket, which has been bugging him a while. “Stan; 5 texts. Kenny; 2 texts.” He unlocks his phone and checks Kenny’s first. “Hey dude, I’m so sorry for all this.” “We should have told you Cartman read it, but we were too stupid.” Kyle’s lips quirk up at the last remark, coming up with a good reply. “Yeah, I can tell./HJ” “Wow, so you’re half serious…?” Kenny says. Kyle just says “LMAO” and then checks Stan’s texts.

“I am so sorry Cartman did that you really didn’t deserve to be outed like that, and Kenny and I should have told you and we might’ve been able to stop him, I’m sorry.” “Also I’m always here if you need to talk…” “And I don’t like, see you any differently. Like, you’re still Kyle to me.” “Hey, you’re not at second period, where are you? I can’t find you, I heard you went to the principal’s but ???” “Also, if it’s okay with you I would like to come over.” Kyle responds with, “My mom picked me up early. That’s why I’m not at class. Also, you coming over after school is fine with me (and my mom) if it’s okay with yours.” Stan “likes” the message, and Kyle goes back to talking with his mom about nothing in particular.

“-And then she agreed.” Sheila says as her and Kyle enter the house. “That’s great.” Kyle says, taking his shoes off before walking to the stairs. “I’m gonna go upstairs and shower before Stan comes over.” Kyle says with tired eyes, and walks into his room. He grabs the clothes he wants to change into afterwards and a towel, and heads to the bathroom.

20 minutes later he exits the bathroom, and blow dries his hair. He brushes his hair, puts in hair product and then goes to sit on his bed. He decided not to put his binder back on and to take a break until Stan arrives. He gets under his blankets and puts his comfort playlist on shuffle, and before he knows it, tears are falling from his eyes again. He sniffles, rubbing his wet eyes with the back of his hand. Kyle can feel himself slowly drifting to sleep, so he wakes himself up and texts Stan “Be here at 4:45.” Stan replies with “Ok.” Kyle sets an alarm for 3:30, so he will have 3 hours to nap, and enough time to get woken up and ready before Stan arrives. He turns off his phone, and shuts his red and puffy eyes and slowly drifts to sleep, exhausted from the day he has had.

Kyle’s body jerks awake to the sound of his horrid alarm. He groans, pressing the “Stop” button on his phone, and continuing to lie in his bed. He stays there for a few minutes, opening snaps from people, most with questions like; “are you okay?”, but the occasional few similar to; “lol I can’t believe you’re a girl.” He leaves them all on opened.

He crawls out of his nest of blankets and walks over to his dresser and puts on his binder and a sweatshirt, feeling a bit colder than before. His hair is a bit messy from sleeping on it so he brushes it, it going in all different directions. He goes downstairs and watches TV for a while with some snacks and soda, before the doorbell eventually rings. He hops up from the couch and opens the door, the black haired boy standing there. “Hey, Stan.” Kyle says, but Stan just responds by pulling him into a tight hug. Kyle wraps his arms around Stan too, before they both let go, and Kyle lets Stan inside.

“Let’s go up to my room.” Kyle says, leading Stan up the creaky stairs and up to his bedroom. Stan and Kyle sit down across from eachother on his bed, silence consuming them before Stan finally speaks up. “I’m… still sorry that me and Kenny didn’t tell you. I really didn’t know.” Stan says, looking into Kyle’s eyes as he tucks Kyle’s messy hair behind his ear. “It’s alright Stan. We probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything, anyways.” Kyle shrugs. “I guess you’re right. I hope no one has been a complete *ss to you since you’ve been outed.” Stan says honestly, shifting his sitting position to get more comfortable. “I guess it hasn’t been too bad. I still feel like everyone is watching me, though. It feels like everyone is noticing and singling out my feminine features.” Kyle admits, looking at his hands in his lap. “No, dude. You are perfect.” Stan says softly, quickly realizing what he said could’ve been taken the wrong way. “Uhh… anyways. I want to talk to you about the other things written in your diary.” Kyle sees where Stan is going with this. “The things about me. How you feel depressed when Wendy and I are dating, how you think I’m the ‘prettiest boy ever,’ and… that you love me.” Kyle feels his heart drop. He was so worried about being outed as trans that he forgot about being outed as gay. He had completely forgotten what he had written about how much he loves Stan. “This situation couldn’t get any worse… My life is totally f*cked. Stan is going to hate me- *everyone* is going to hate me.” Kyle thinks to himself, but before Kyle could have that train of thought get worse, Stan grabbed his hands and said something that changed everything.

“I love you, too.”

Fanfic on Ao3

Fanfic on Wattpad

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

[askthespcircusold]

Pt.2.

Shiela’s trauma path and rescue lost:

Upon Ike telling Shiela, Shiela was ignited in rage. She knew her little bunny was at the library. Probably talking to his little friends after school. She knew she had to go and ground him. No son of hers was going to be a smoker, especially going behind her back and smoking???? In front of his little brother. Upon coming to the library at a relatively slow pace (Gerald took the car) she sees it erupted in fire. Screams of her son howling from the inside. She knew she had to save her son. No matter what. She rather die protecting her children than live doing nothing. She ran and saw the fire, the burning children. She pulled through and pulled Kyle out. Saving her child from the wreck. She pulls him inside and checked him for injuries. She got there before the police did.

She refused to let Kyle be held suspect without a lawyer and with untreated wounds. Kyle never encountered the police. This was your choice. And you get to live with it.

[danbusler]

The Chris O'Leary Band at The Fallout Shelter

Barn-Burning Blues

The Chris O’Leary Band at The Extended Play Sessions at The Fallout Shelter in Norwood, MA. on August 9, 2024.The band includes Chris O’Leary, Mike Lynch, Shiela Klinefelter, Chuck Cotton, Brooks Milgate, Pat O’Shea, and Andy Shahl.Chris and his band ignited the Fallout Shelter crowd with barn-burning blues, southern-tinged rock and roll, and country ballads. This was a night with a true club…

[misty-groves]

More Josephine Beaumont

Technically the freelancers had a polycule in the past so that's fun! Josie was never officially in it but she would have been given more time (more about that here)

Josie has a metal spine, enhanced speed strength and healing via gentrification modification. (Thanks project freelancer!)

She has chronic pain from a combination of injuries and aftereffects of the scientific experiments. She also suffers migrains after concussions fucker her up

Her top speed (sprinting) is 29 mph and her top long term sustainable speed she can hold is about 22 mph (these are all unlikey/unnatural speed thanks project freelancer!)

Josie is REALLY bad at bowling, has rolled only gutter backs 90% of the time

Josie was number 5 on the pfl leaderboard towards the end. She's very dangerous. She specialized in infiltration and intel

Josie's weaknesses in fighting: she occasionally gets tunnel focus, even though she has uncanny speed and strength she still feels all the pain, she perfect defense and turns out sometimes

Because of the enhancements these weaknesses aren't so bad and fighting most people she seems unstoppable but the other freelancers, and people like Locus are capable of taking her down

She likes music and can play guitar

She's good at cooking

Abandonment issues, when pfl tried to kill her to see if their experiments would work or not she was left alone for like, three weeks amd labeled MIA likely dead

Josie hates Nikiminaj with a passion

She's terrified of needles (Caboose holds her hand when she hast to deal woth it)

She has the best communication out of the main crew but also hates talking about her feelings

She has nightmares and sleepwalks

She has ptsd obviously, and intense trust issues even with friends

She's terrified that she's never going to escape the project or all the blood she's spilled in their name

Josie can not dance. White People club dancing (you know what I mean)

She's allergic to certain metals, also pollen

When she and Wash reunited there were some Thoughts. And then he worked with the Meta and her trust issues got So Much Worse

She is so fucked up guys. She just- chooses kindness because it'd a way to spite the part of her that sounds like everyone who's hurt her

She's loyal despite everything actually. But like- way too loyal. She woukd burn down the whole fucking world and dance in the ashes for someone she loved regardless of trust issues

Loses herself to wrath everyone in awhile. Not pretty

Threatened to kill Grif violently if he ever breaks Simmons's heart (meant it too bc that is the only man she trusts fully rn)

Caboose is her adopted brother and she loves him very much

But after Wash comes back to her She talks to Doc and Shiela and she realizes she is NOT Okay (TM)

So she starts reading mental health articles online and it's NOT actually therapy tbh but she's learning and putting in work.

So she starts to realize that if she can Trust Anybody (but Simmons and Caboose bc she already trusts them for reasons.) She can trust the Sim troopers that have only ever accepted her good and bad

She goes to real therapy after it's all over. And she writes letters to the paper freelancers that didn't make it apologizing for the way it all ended

Josie is definitely not a perfect woman, bit she tries. And even at her lowest she has tried to help.

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

That’s how you do it in a bush

Sniper x f!reader: yall fuck outside not really in a bush I just thought him saying that was hot

You were running away from an opposing team member, knife in hand as you searched for a place to lay low for a minute or two. You ran towards a a rock, turned the corner and ran right into the chest of your teams sniper

You shrieked and fell back onto the ground.

“Watch where you’re going Shiela.” He shook himself off and held a hand out towards you

“Sniper, I need to hide somewhere.”

“And why is that? It’s a battle field, mate.”

“Spy, he’s chasing me.”

Sniper sighed and led you behind to his hiding place.

“No one even knows this is over here so don’t blow my cover. Got it?”

You nodded and sat down, your back against the wall of Rocky material.

Sniper went back to his position, aiming at and shooting any of the opposing team members who crossed even slightly into his territory. After a couple of minutes you went to get up and leave but you were met with Sniper once more. Falling right back into his arms like you had countless times before.

“Y/n, I’ve got a bit of “problem”, think you could help me with it?”

You looked up at him as he looked down into your eyes with a pale blush across his face

“What is it-“ you were cut off by the feeling of something pushing against your upper thigh

“Sniper- were on the battlefield, remember?” You said in a low, soft voice

“Mhm.. but no one knows this little spot exists, remember?” He retorted back

You nodded.

“Come on, mate. It’ll be quick” sniper sang into your ear as he kissed your neck

Your thighs clenched together and you caved in “.. fine, be quick.”

“Good girl, turn around, okay?”

You nodded and turned around, hands and face against the rocky wall your back once was against.

Sniper undid his pants and pulled his already hard cock out. He took your pants off, a gloved hand coming to rub your pussy through your wet panties as he pumped his cock some more. Sniper slipped your panties off and teased you with his cock.

“Don’t tease.. come on mundy.”

“Needy? or are you scared someone just might see us?” He said as he slipped the tip of his cock into your soaked pussy

You moaned against the surface you were standing against “Both..”

Sniper chuckled and lifted you against his chest, linking one of his arms behind both of yours then placing the other on your hip. A small bump forming as his cock pressed against your cervix.

Sniper kissed your neck as he began vigorously thrusting in and out of your cunt. Your moans flooding freely. Your mind going blank at the pure feeling of ecstasy washed over you.

“F-uh-ck, m-Mundy..”

“Yeah Sheila? What’s up dear?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you moaned out “h-harder!”

“You got it baby” Snipers grip o your hip became harder as he fucked into your harder. Your knees were pressed together in an attempt to hold yourself up in fear your legs would give out as they shook. Your slick ran down your legs and onto the dry, dirt filled ground.

“please- keep going.. gonna cu-“

“Not yet. Dont cum yet.” Sniper said as he fucked into your core

“No no no, please mick don’t- don’t do that to me I can’t hold it back anymore please” you pleaded

“You will or ill punish you for misbehaving”

You groaned at the burning sensation growing in your abdomen. You leaned your head back against him, you were way too weak to hold it up at this point

“Just hold on for a little longer, okay doll?”

You attempted to nod in agreement but couldn’t even muster the slightest amount of strength to do that.

“You’re perfect babe, your body, your face, everything about you. God, you get me so hot, how could you ever expect me to resist fucking your beautiful little body into a mess?”

His words sent jolts through your body.

“You ready Sheila? I’m gonna cum, let’s cum together”

This sentence caught your attention, your head shot up

“Fuck fuck fuck! Yes! Cum inside me please, mick please”

“Of course doll..” he said in between thrusts “cum for me baby” he demanded

Just like that his last few thrusts sent you spiraling, your orgasm ripped through you as he filled you deep with his cum. He waited, then let your arms go. You fell against the rock wall again. Sniper chuckled at the state he had left you. He lifted you up and helped you get your clothes back on, properly, after he had situated himself.

Sniper picked you up and took you to his sniping nest

“Stay here bird. You should lay down.” Sniper said, then kissed your forehead.

You nodded and drifted off to sleep.

Getting ready for a hookup and it better play out like this or I’m not ever going back (that’s a lie)

[daydreamerdrew]

listening to the 1/24/24 episode of the Morning Somewhere podcast with Burnie and Ashley Burns and Burnie impersonating a disgruntled AI complaining about its job, “Can’t believe I have a thousand years left of this, working this shitty 9 to pi,” reminded me of my favorite RVB joke with Shiela, “My logical data analysis center indicates that would be highly unlikely, and my bullshit meter agrees.”

[sixhours]

Chapter 3 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence

Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

May 2024 Jackson, Wyoming

“Help!”

You’ve been in Jackson for three weeks. It’s late, not quite 3 a.m., and you’re dozing in your office when you hear a voice from the lobby. A man bursts through the swinging doors into the back of the clinic holding a young girl in his arms, frantically looking around.

The night nurse, Shiela, is coming down the hall to see to the commotion, but you wave her away.

“I’ve got it. Right here,” you tell the man, gesturing to the nearest exam room.

“She passed out,” he says, desperation threaded through a gravelly Texas baritone as he lays the girl down in a hospital bed. “She’s been sick.”

“You the father?” you ask, checking the pulse point at the girl’s wrist where her heartbeat flutters. Her skin is feverish, eyes ringed with dark circles, lips cracked. You’d put her at 12 or 13, but she’s small, thin.

“I’m, uh–yeah,” the man says. “She started, uh, throwin’ up–”

“Any allergies?”

He shakes his head. “I dunno–”

“When did this start?”

“Three, four days ago, maybe. It was just a cough and a fever, she stayed home from school–”

“Has she been able to keep liquids down?”

“Not since last night.”

“She’s probably dehydrated,” you start to pull up the girl’s sleeve. “I’m going to place an IV so we can get some fluids–”

You stop short. The bite scar on the girl’s forearm is ugly and swollen, a telltale cordyceps rash snaking its way to the crook of her elbow.

Oh, no.

Your head snaps up to meet the man’s eyes, and it takes him a moment to register what you’ve seen. You’re reaching for the cordyceps monitor in the cabinet, the little device that will confirm the presence of infection, when he levels a handgun at your face.

“Don’t.”

You let out a soft huff, hands slowly moving up.

“She’s infected,” you say. “And you can’t have a gun in here. How did you–”

“She’s not.”

“The bite–”

“It’s a burn scar,” he growls, reaching over to tug at the sleeve of the girl’s shirt, covering the evidence. “She’s not infected. Use the other arm.”

“Joel?” the girl stirs, and the gun falters, his gaze immediately on his daughter. You reach for the detector again.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, his attention snapping back to you.

“Joel,” the girl’s voice is more insistent now as she tries to sit up. “Joel, you asshole–”

His eyes dart between you and the girl. “Use. The other. Arm,” he bites out. 

You swallow hard, weighing your options. You think you could overpower him; he looks strong, but there’s a coldness in his eyes that tells you he’s not fully there . And you don’t want to be stuck in this tiny exam room when the girl inevitably turns…

“Fine,” you snap. “Fine. I’ll use the other arm.”

He nods once, not lowering the gun.

You back away, keeping your eyes trained on him as you make a show of pulling supplies from the cabinets, taking your time, trying to figure out how to proceed in a way that won’t get you shot or bitten. You pull up the girl’s other sleeve with shaking fingers and the man–Joel–seems to relax a fraction.

“What’s your name, kid?” you ask.

She looks at Joel as though asking for permission, then down at her arm as you insert the IV, watching with fascination as the needle penetrates the skin.

“S’Ellie,” she says, coughing roughly.

“Hi, Ellie,” you say, forcing a smile through gritted teeth. “I’m going to get this saline drip set up, I’m going to take your temperature, then I’m going to take a sample of your blood. And hopefully, your dad here won’t shoot me.”

The girl shakes her head. “S’like this with everyone.”

Joel’s jaw twitches and he shoots a glare at the girl, exasperation and worry in the deep-set lines of his forehead.

“How old are you, Ellie?”

“Fifteen.”

“Any recent injuries? Blood loss? Open up,” you say, inserting the end of a mercury thermometer. “Hold that under your tongue.”

The girl shakes her head, mumbling around the glass stick in her mouth. “M’ just tired.”

“That’s fine,” you say. “You can lay back, close your eyes. I’m almost done.”

Joel’s eyes are trained on you, watching your every move as you continue examining the girl, checking her lymph nodes, her breathing, asking her to swallow, pricking her finger to get a blood sample. You avoid her right arm, on high alert for any sudden movements, the twitching that signals the onset of infection, but Ellie remains still and listless. Joel is still holding the gun, but at least it’s no longer pointed at your head.

“You said this started last night?”

He gives a single tense nod.

“She’s in school, right?”

“Yeah…so?”

“Well, provided you’re telling the truth, and that scar isn’t what it looks like,” you say, biting out the words through gritted teeth, “I think she has the flu.”

Joel blinks. “The flu?”

“It’s early in the season, but it's going around. And the kids are especially good at spreading it.”

Joel’s shoulders sag; he finally lowers the gun to his side.

“This isn’t something to mess with,” you continue, moving to the sink, snapping off your gloves in irritation. “It’s not like before when we had vaccines. People die from the flu. Especially the most vulnerable, and she’s underweight, possibly anemic. I’d like to keep her overnight–”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, she stays with me.”

“You can stay, too,” you say slowly, watching the panic in his face. He’s gone somewhere else in his mind, shadows moving behind his eyes. “But I want to get her hydrated and make sure this doesn’t progress to a secondary infection like pneumonia.”

He looks to Ellie, then to you, then back to Ellie. You watch his Adam’s apple bob under the scruff of his beard.

“Alright,” he says finally. “Fine. She can stay.”

You nod, turning to leave. “I’m going to run this to the lab, then I’ll have a nurse come in with–”

His hand is on your arm, gripping it, wheeling you around. “You’re not going to tell anyone…about the scar,” he says through gritted teeth. “Got that?”

You exhale sharply, narrowly resisting the urge to haul off and punch him. “Let go of me.”

“Say it,” he says.

“I’m not…going to tell…anyone,” you repeat, enunciating as though to a small child. Then, as a petulant afterthought: “But put the gun away, for god’s sake. You’ll scare my staff.”

He considers you, his grip loosening, receding. He tucks the gun into the back of his jeans.

“Alright. Go.”

~*~

“I’ve got a live one in exam room two. Think it’s the flu again. I just need last names–Joel and Ellie?”

“That’s the Millers,” Shiela says.

“Right, right. She’s staying the night, I want to keep an eye on her.” You swallow, turning away, hoping she doesn’t see the tremor in your hands. “Look, Shel, why don’t you go home? It’s not busy, I can take the rest of the night shift.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I have the walkie if I run into trouble. Go home,” you say, smiling in a way you hope is convincing enough. It must be, because she shrugs and packs up her bag.

When Shiela is gone, you lock the clinic’s front and rear entrances so no one else can get in. Then you retreat to your office, intent on finding the girl’s medical records, but there’s no Ellie Miller in the filing cabinet. On a hunch, you sift through the rest of the folders by first name and find the only Ellie in town–an Ellie Williams.

After a considered pause, you pull Joel Miller’s file, too.

You take them to your desk and spread them in front of you, all the while listening for sounds from down the hall.

Ellie Williams. 14 female. DOB: ??/??/2009. Intake: 12/16/2023.

Joel Miller. 56 male. DOB: 9/26/1967. Intake: 12/16/2023.

They came in the same day, so you’ve got the right kid. The forms are signed by Maria Miller, who you know is on the Jackson council.

A sister, maybe?

But there’s no other data, no medical history. Nothing helpful.

You toss the folders on your desk and head to the supply closet to grab blankets, Tylenol, and a paper cup of water. You hesitate over the surgical supplies, then tuck a scalpel in your pocket. It’s no match for a gun, but if the girl turns while you’re tending to her, you might stand a chance at making it out alive if you have a weapon.

Joel is pacing when you return. He looks at you nervously as you place the blankets at the foot of the bed, and the Tylenol on the counter.

“I sent the night nurse home,” you say quietly. “No one will be in until six.”

This seems to relax him a bit, enough that he finally takes a seat, deflating into the chair next to Ellie’s bed. His hands are shaking.

Ellie wakes up enough to swallow the Tylenol with a sip of water, then rolls over and curls on her side with a soft groan and a raspy cough. Joel is so intent on watching his daughter that he barely acknowledges you when you slip out of the room.

You sit stiff and upright on the cot in your office, fingering the scalpel in your pocket and waiting for the inevitable sound of infection from across the hall.

It doesn’t come.

~*~

They’re sleeping when you peek in on them over the next few hours. Joel’s lanky body is twisted awkwardly in the chair, jacket over his shoulders, his head resting on the bed at her side. Her right hand curls loosely in his hair.

By morning, the girl’s fever has broken, her breathing deep and even. Joel remains asleep at her side, snoring lightly.

You pause in the doorway, wondering if you should try to check the girl’s arm for signs of progression, but decide against it; Joel’s eyes flutter open as you reach to take her pulse. Your hand stops in mid-air, hovering over her wrist, half expecting him to reach for his gun, but he only blinks and raises his head, swiping a broad palm across his scruffy face.

“Just checking in,” you murmur. Ellie’s heartbeat is strong under your fingers, her lungs sound clearer. “She looks better.”

He takes this in, nods.

“I think you can go home when she wakes up,” you say, keeping your voice low. “We’ll give her another dose of Tylenol to keep the fever down, and you both need to isolate for at least a week…that means you, her, and anyone else in your household.”

“S’just us,” he says flatly.

“Okay. The staff will let the cafeteria know you’ll need meals delivered for a bit. If you start to feel sick–”

“I’m fine.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Fine. But if you do feel sick and you have to go out, wear one of these,” you say, pulling two white face masks from your pocket.

“K,” he says, eyes drifting back to Ellie’s sleeping form. When he speaks, his voice is frayed. “So she’s gonna be alright? No pneumonia?”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “Her lungs sound clear, but if the cough gets worse, bring her back in right away. And feed her. She’s borderline anemic. She needs to eat.”

He scowls, muttering at the floor. “She eats plenty.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “It’s not uncommon for kids her age to struggle with disordered–”

“She’s fine,” he cuts you off. “I’ll make sure she eats. Anything else?”

His eyes bore into yours like a challenge, a threat.

“If she gets sick, and I mean… sick ,” you say in a low voice, emphasizing the word until it’s clear you’re not talking about the flu. “I will make sure every single council member knows who brought it in. Understand?”

He considers you for a moment, then nods slowly. “I heard you.”

“Good,” you say, clipped. “One of the nurses can check you out when you’re ready. Maybe don’t hold them at gunpoint.”

[reepicheep-chan]

[mariaclarareincarnate]

I headcanon Shiela to be a sweet tooth. 😋🍦🍭🍪🥧🍰🍫🍩🎂🍨🍮

[oonathefaewitch]

✧ 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔣𝔱 𝔏𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔬𝔫 յ

⋆ the history and philosophy of witchcraft ⋆

about history and development, persecutions, reemergence, the philosophy of witchcraft, principles of wiccan belief, the power within, spells and charms

յ. thousands of years ago paleolithic wo/men depended upon hunting to survive and nature was overwhelming, so much that they made each aspect of nature a diety, the two most important were the God of Hunting, generally depicted as a horned man, and the Goddess of Fertility every pagan religions had their own version of the same dieties in their pantheon, names changed but they were all ultimately praying to the same gods

շ. people back then started using sympathetic magick: they thought that similar things had similar effects, therefore if they mad a life-size clay model of a bison and killed it then the hunt of a real bison would end with its death too

Յ. with the coming of Christianity there was not an immediate mass-conversion, it was a man-made religion it didn't evolve gradually and naturally over thousands of years like the Old Religion for this reason Pope Gregory built the early curches on the sites of the older temples, where people already used to gather together to worship, so that they would become accustomed to go to church instead

կ. though the only artisans available to build the first curches were among the pagans themselves and incorporated figures of their own dieties in their work, many of these figures are still in existence today the Goddess' carved figure usually had spread legs and enlarged genitalia and was known as Shiela-na-gigs, while the God's had horns surrounded by foliage and was known as Jack of the Green or Robin of the Woods this is also the reason why the Devil is horned: the Old Religion was the rival of the new one and its God was horned, so christians made him its Devil and claimed that pagans were Devil worshippers

Տ. as the centuries passed Christianity grew in strength, the Old Religion was slowly pushed back and the accusations started, so in 1486 two german monks wrote an anti-witchery book called The Witches' Hammer in this book the monks Heinrich Institoris Kramer and Jakob Sprenger gave definite instructions for the prosecution of witches and that resulted in cases of hysteria like the so-called "witches of Salem" in Massachusetts where over 200 people were accused and 19 hung note: in New England the law was an in England so witches were hung, it was in Scotland and the rest of Europe that they were burned at the stake

ճ. by the late 17th century the surviving witches had gone into hiding and with the invention of printing every book about Witchcraft was written from the church's point of view, until 1921 when the anthropologist Margaret Alice Murray wrote The Witch Cult in Western Europe studying the records of the trials of the Middle Age she picked up clues that seemed to indicate that there was a definite, organized, pre-Christian religion behind what the Church made people believe

Դ. the last laws against Witchcraft in England were repealed in 1951, this cleared the way for the witches to speak up, so from that moment many covens with different traditions finally came into the open

Ց. in England the first one to come out was Gerald Brousseau Gardner in 1954 while in America was Raymond Buckland himself: they openly talked about the Craft and some of the different traditions and ways of practicing, writing many books about it the book then provides this list of some of the covens/traditions that can be found today (listed below), you can also search on the web to see if there's a coven of your liking near you to join

գ. in april 1974 the Council of American Witches adopted a set of Principles of Wiccan Belief that summarizes Wiccan philosophy, many has to do with its empathy with nature i'll be listing them down here, read them carefully:

we practice rites to attune ourselves with the natural rhythm of life forces marked by the phases of the Moon and the seasonal quarters and cross quarters

we recognize that our intelligence gives us a unique responsibility toward our environment: we seek to live in harmony with nature, in ecological balance offering fulfillment to life and conciousness within an evolutionary concept

we acknowledge a depth of power far grater than that apparent to the average person, because it is far greater than ordinary it is sometimes called supernatural, but we see it as lying within that which is naturally potential to all

we conceive of the Creative Power in the universe as manifesting through polarity -as masculine and feminine- and that this Creative Power lies in all people, and functions through the interaction of the masculine and feminine, we value neither above the other, we value sex as pleasure, as the symbol and embodiment of life, and as one of the sources of energy used in magickal practice and religious worship

we recognize both outer worlds and inner, or psychological, worlds sometimes known as the Spiritual World, the Collective Unconscious, Inner Planes, etc, and we see in the interaction of these two dimensions the basis for paranormal phenomena and magickal exercises, we neglect neither dimension for the other, seeing both as necessary for put fulfillment

we do not recognize any authoritarian hierarchy, but do honor those who teach, respect those who share their greater knowledge and wisdom, and acknowledge those who have courageously given of themselves in leadership

we see religion, magick, and wisdom in living as being united in the way one views the world and lives within it -a world view and philosophy of life that we identify as Witchcraft- the Wiccan way calling oneself witch does not make a witch -but neither does heredity itself, nor the collecting of titles, degrees, and initiations- a witch seeks to control the forces within themselves that makes life possible in order to live wisely and well without harm to others and in harmony with nature

we believe in the affirmation and fulfillment of life in a continuation of evolution and development of consciousness giving meaning the universe we know and our personal role within it

our only animosity toward Christianity, or toward any other religion or philosophy of life, is to the extent that its institutions have claimed to be the only way and have sought to deny freedom to other ways of religious practice and belief

as witches, we are not threatened by debates on the history of the Craft, the origins of various terms, the legitimacy of various aspects of different traditions, we are concerned with our present and our future

we do not accept the concept of absolute evil, nor do we worship any entity known as Satan or the Devil, as defined by the Christian tradition, we do not seek power through the suffering of others, nor accept that personal benefit can be derived only by denial to another

we believe that we should seek within nature that which is contributory to our health and well-being

յօ. there's power in all of us and the aura is a visible manifestation of that power, witches have always had the power and used it, this is why spells and charms are usually very commonly used even by solitary witches, cause the most important ingredient in a spell is emotion

from Raymond Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft, the Big Blue Book recommended supplementary reading:

Witchcraft from the Inside by Raymond Buckland

The God of the Witches by Dr. Margaret A. Murray

Witches: Investigating an Ancient Religion by T. C. Lethbridge

The Devil in Massachusetts by Marion Starkey

here’s listed a sampling of different paths of Wicca with a brief description from the Big Blue:

Alexandian Wicca is a tradition founded by Alex Sanders in England, rituals are mostly Gardnerian with many Judeo-Christian/Ceremonial Magick elements incorporated, coveners generally work skyclad, the eight Sabbats are observed and both the God and the Goddess are horned

American Celtic WIcca is American tradition stem from Jessica Bell (Lady Sheba), the rites are virtually the same as Gardnerians but they work robed

Church of Y Tylwyth Teg, originally organized by Bill Wheeler in Washington, is a Keltic/Welsh tradition whose purpose is “to seek that which is of the most worth in the world to exalt the dignity of every person, the maximum service of humanity, to aid humanities’ search in the Great Spirit’s Universe to relink humanity with itself and nature”, it teaches the balance of nature, folklore, mythology and the mysteries

Curch of Crescent Moon, origianlly organized in California, the Church offers many paths to “the ultimate oneness with the absolute”, its purposes include perpetuating the uncorrupted religion of ancient Ireland and provifing information and structure about the goddesses and gods in general, irish culture and many occult subjects, though they don’t call themselves Wiccans

Circle Wicca begun by Selena Fox and Jim Alan in Wisconsin, it is more aligned with Shamanism and Amerindian ways, they publish an annual source Circle Guide to Pagan Resoursces and a newspaper Circle Network News, the Circle Network is an internation exchange and contact service for Wiccans, Neo-Pagans, Pantheists, Goddess Folk, Shamans, Druids, Eco-Feminists, Native American Medicine People, Seers, Ceremonial Magicians, Mystics and other related paths

Coven of the Forest, Far and Forever is a Florida denomination formed by Elivri and Giselda, there is a good balance between the male and female aspects, their main purpose is to become vehicles to the more fundamental living forces by invoking the gods to balance and develop their own nature and grow closer to the universe, the worship is skyclad and Esbats are held each full Moon

Deboran Witchdom, founded by Claudia Haldane and promoted by Erinna Northwind in Massachusetts, is an eclectic branch, they work with balanced polarities, aiming for a reconstruction of the Craft as it would be if the Burning Times had never happened, they use research, logical deduction and divination and with little use of nudity during rituals

DIanic Feminist Wicce, started by Ann Forfreedom in California, is a tradition that is both religious and practices magick, it includes both female and male practitioners, it encourages female leadership, insists that a priestess must be present for a Circle ritual to be held an d involves its practitioners in feminist and humanist issues, they work either skyclad or robed

Frost’s Wicca was found by Gavin and Yvonne Frost in North Carolina as “The Church and School of Wicca”, it’s one of the many Welsh-based traditions, the course material was presented in book form under the title The Witches’ Bible, originally there was no mention of the Goddess but this has now been rectified

Gardnerian Wica is the very first denomitanion of the Craft t make itself known publicly and the firts tradition to appear in the United States (by Raymond and Rosemary Buckland), it was founded by Dr. Gerald Gardner who was initiated into a surviving celtic coven in England, the majority of Wiccan traditions are based on this, it places emphasis on the Goddess over the God, it has a degree system of advancement, the emphasis is on worship of the gods with magic focused primary on healing, covens work skyclad

Georgian Wicca, founded by George E. Patterson in California, it’s an eclectic tradition based on Gardnerian and some other engligh traditions, both religious and magickal, God and Goddess oriented but leaning more toward the Goddess, they celebrate the eight Sabbats

Maidenhill Wicca is a “traditional” Wicca group established in Philadelphia that has strong ties with the Coven of Rhiannon in England, its main focus is the worship of Goddess and God, there is no limitation to particular cultural-ethnic tradition, the members go through a Garnerian training and then are incouraged to find a particular myth cycle or path consistent with their personal beliefs

Northern Way also called Asatru, was founded in Chigago and is a Norse based noninitiatory tradition, the gods names are Old Norse, the group is not hereditary, they observe the Solar Fire Festivals (Lesser Sabbats) and those indigenous to the Norse religion, they work robed

Nova-Wicca is an eclectic group frounded by Nimua and Duncan in Illinois, it’s Gardnerian based and it classifies itself as a mixed, traditional, teaching/training coven, they work robed at Esbats and Sabbats but skyclad at initiations

PectiWita is a scottish solitary tradition passed on by Aidan Breac who personally thaught students in Scotland, it’s attuned to the solat and lunar changes and all aspects of nature, there is balance between the Goddess and the God, the emphasis is on magick rather than worship, meditation, divination and herbal knowledge play a large part in the tradition, there is emphasis on the blending of magick into everyday life

Saex-Wica, founded by Raymond Buckland, has saxon basis, a democratic organization and its rituals are open to anyone, covens decide for themselves whether to work robed or skyclad

Stregheria or La Vecchia Religione (the Old Religion) originates by the Italian-American Leo Martello in Massachusetts, it is a form of Witchcraft with Southern European roots but also includes Italian American witchcraft, the word stregheria is an archaic italian word for "witchcraft", the tradition centers around a duotheistic pair of deities that are regarded as divine lovers, practices include the celebration of seasonal holidays, ritual magic and reverence for gods, ancestors and tradition-specific spirits, strict adherence to performing their rituals skyclad

Thessalonian Tradition, founded by Monte Plaisance in Louisiana, it’s an attempted reconstruction of ancient greek magickal practices and religious philosophies, it acknowledge all of the dieties of ancient Greece with each member placing emphasis on a “patron” god or goddess, their stated purpose is to bring themselves closer to divinity through the invocation of divine powers and the application of divine knowledge, the worship is performed robed