#fic: wildflowers

[tightjeansjavi]

wildflowers

A/N: this was completely unplanned but after daydreaming about napping with Joel in a field of wildflowers, I decided to bring that to life 🥺 thank u to my bug @strang3lov3 for betaing 💗

~word count: 528~

Summary: you and Joel nap in a field of wildflowers

Pairing | joel x f!reader

Warnings: none, just some fluff and an unspecified age gap between Joel and the reader, language, secret love, +18 minors dni!

“If we get ambushed, or godforbid—” Joel, your long-term patrol partner, turned secret lover warned you as you dismounted from your horse, tossing the reins over the withers with ease.

You flashed him a grin, all teeth, bright and beaming like the sun above in high noon.

“A quick cat nap isn’t going to kill us, Joel.” You retorted playfully, eyes squinted through the harsh glare from the blinding sun.

“It jus’ might kill us, darlin.’” He let out a huff, swinging his thigh over the side of the saddle and dismounted. He kept the strap of his rifle over his shoulder, unable to completely let his guard down.

“It won’t, Joel. I promise.” You reassured him, reaching for his hand when you were close enough to make contact. It was rather reckless for you and Joel to have your rendezvous while patrolling, but despite the risks, you couldn’t stay away from one another.

And most of all, you made Joel Miller feel young and alive. Two distinct feelings that he had constantly chased for years and years.

With his large, warm, calloused palm in your grasp, you playfully pulled him down into the bright array of wildflowers. He let out a soft, oof, followed by a sneeze due to the pollen content invading his nostrils.

His whole face scrunched up, eyes crinkling in the corners, cursing under his breath at the sensation.

“Got the sneezies?” You asked in a playful tone.

He glowered, jaw ticking as he rubbed his nose. “Fuckin’ pollen content is a bitch.” He felt the smallest grin tug on the corner of his lips when he caught you staring at him, “quit your starin’, baby. You little creep.” He teased.

“Oh, shuddup. Can’t help that I think you’re so handsome, Joel.”

He blushes immediately, coughing into his bare shoulder to hide the redness flushing over his cheeks.

“Ain’t handsome, darlin’. M’old as shit.” He scoffs, reaching to pluck one of the many surrounding flowers. He twirls the stem between the pads of his fingers, admiring the subtle beauty of the delicate petals. He turns his head to the side, glancing over at you and begrudgingly holds the flower out in your direction, eyes casted downwards.

“For you.” His tone is soft, rasping at the end.

“For me?” You ask, fighting your grin from spilling over. “Well, ain’t ya a romantic, Miller.” Your fingers brush his as you take the flower from his grasp and carefully place it behind your ear.

“Don’t push it,” he warns you. “That’s my one token of kindness for the day.”

Once he was settled, he kept his rifle in arm's reach while he laid on his back, gazing up at the slow-rolling clouds up above. He listened to the harmonious birds chirping, the buzzards buzzing, a warm breeze kissing the apples of his cheeks.

This is Peace. He thought.

He had one arm crossed behind his head, bicep muscles bulging as he used it as a makeshift pillow. His other arm was wrapped around you, strong, yet soft—secure.

He dozed off with your cheek nuzzled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat—his soft breaths, and little nasally snores.

This is Love. You thought.

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[sigmoon]

Wildflowers under the summer rain

Chapters . . . 1 2 3 4 5. . . (ongoing)

Pairing . . . Fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

Summary . . . After Fyodor frees you from Meursault, you become his right hand. Your relationship is merely based on mutual utility, but you soon find yourself more drawn towards your rescuer than you’d like to admit.

. . . dark content, enemies to lovers, slowburn, romance, smut, angst // takes place before the canon events.

Important info

. . . This series contains heavy topics such as death, depression, anxiety, PTSD, (sexual) abuse, violence, self-h*rm and s*icidal ideation. Each chapter has content warnings.

. . . I promise that not every chapter will be dark; there will be fluff, romance, and even some smut weaved into the story!

©sigmoon

[ahecenn]

a bed of wildflowers

4.0k words

post tlo | fluff

summary: Annabeth is bedridden at the Jacksons, and she wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

He laughs, warm and familiar. The kind of quiet laugh, just for her, that sets her heart racing. His joy is like witnessing the sun shine through a rain shower; you can’t help but stare at the simple beauty. There’s something so easy about having Percy in this way. Even when he interrupts her dreamless sleep just to piss her off.

read on ao3

[aimeelouart]

Zonai Champion

For What Wildflowers Need to Bloom

Detail below because Tumblr ruins the resolution of art

[devilat-thedoor]

Wildflowers and Wine

A/N: i was yearning for soft!Sammy. i just really needed this, so it’s completely self indulgent. but maybe you guys will enjoy it too? So, here’s a fluffy lil Sam drabble💖

🌲🌲🌲

A weekend getaway was exactly what you needed to escape the stresses that life had been throwing at you. When Sam surprised you with a trip to a cabin deep in the woods, you were more than excited to have the alone time with him. You spent the night packing everything up and left first thing in the morning, “You’re gonna love it up in the Smokies, babe.” He lifted his hand from the wheel to grab yours in your lap, “There’s a really nice waterfall off of this one trail… It’ll be too cold to swim, but it’ll still be cool to see.”

Leaning over the center console, you placed a tiny peck on his jaw, “Thank you, Sammy. I really needed this.” His smile grew as he squeezed your hand. You reached over to turn the music up a bit and settled back into your seat, eventually falling asleep.

“Hey…We’re here, babe. Wake up.” His voice was a mere whisper as his fingertips brushed over your cheeks. It was almost as though he didn’t actually want to wake you up, but his whispers persisted, “Babe, come on.” He tugged at your arm and your eyes finally opened, blinking a few times, and settled on his face. Sam was standing outside of the passenger door, waiting for you to step out.

Once you exited the car, you got a full view of the cabin, “Oh. This is beautiful.” You spun in a circle, taking in the looming mix of trees. Maples and Pines. Oaks and Hickorys. You wanted to run straight into the woods to explore and he could sense it.

He grasped your waist, pulling you against him, “Let’s get you changed first, then we can go on a hike.” He had your hand, guiding you up the few steps to the front door.

You stopped, looking back to the car, “We have to unload the car, hun.” You tugged on him, but he kept walking, dragging you with him.

“I already carried everything in while you slept, c’mon.” He opened the door and allowed you to step inside. It was rustic and cozy, a small living space with the kitchen attached. Sam came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin on your head, “I can’t wait to get you in front of the firplace tonight, babe.” He kissed the top of your head before releasing you and pointing to the short hallway with two doors, “Bedroom is left, bathroom is right. Go put some jeans on and grab a sweatshirt. I’m gonna put a pack together to for our hike.”

Wandering into the bedroom, you found the bags laid neatly on the bed and smiled to yourself as you dug through yours to find a pair of jeans. After lacing your sneakers up, you emerged from the bedroom, hoodie in your hand, and met Sam in the kitchen, “Ready, baby?”

He was tucking a few water bottles into the backpack and stalking over to you as he zipped it up, “Yep. Let’s go, pretty girl.” He grabbed your hand, twirling you under his arm twice, and pulled you out the front door, closing it behind him.

🌲🌲🌲

“Sammy, what is this?” You leaned down, examining the peachy-orange flower clusters, surrounded by long, thick leaves.

He sidled up to the shrub, plucking one of the flowers, “Rhododendron.” He turned you to face him, pushing your hair aside to slip the flower behind your ear, “They call these ones Flame Azaleas. They can range in color from white to yellow, even red… But the orange ones are my favorite.”

“They’re so pretty.” You picked your own bloom, carefully placing it in the breast pocket of his flannel.

“Come on, babe. The sun is starting to set, we should get back.” He was smiling wide as he turned around to walk back up the trail.

You fell into step behind him until something caught your eye, “Baby, wait!” You took off through the trees, “What is that?” You were ducking through leaves and branches, pushing through a dense thicket, as he chased after you.

“Y/N, slow down!” He finally caught up, breathing heavy as he began to scold you, “Babe, there’s bears and shit, you can’t just- Woah…” You’re sure his face had to of matched the incredulous expression of your own.

You stood in a clearing, staring out over a varying array of colorful wildflowers and tall, flowing grass, “Sammy, this is- Look at the sunset!” You pointed out to the horizon, forcing his attention to the dipping, golden sun as it cast an orange hue over the earth before you, “Baby, did you bring your camera? You have to get pictures of these.” You sunk to your knees into the grass, running your fingers over the various flower petals.

When you turned to look at up at Sam, his eyes were already on you, the brown of them turning to a fiery amber in the sunlight, “I left it at the cabin, we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” His lips lifted into a warm smile as he held his hand out to pull you from the ground, “Let’s head back before it gets dark.” He weaved his fingers with yours and led you back to the trail.

🌲🌲🌲

The walk back to the back the cabin was short and dusk was falling fast. As you walked through the front door, Sam broke away from you and rushed to the bedroom. You didn’t question it, just slipped out of your shoes and pulled your hoodie off to hang on a hook. Padding into the small kitchen, you opened the cabinets one by one until you found the cups before calling out to him, “Baby, do you want some wine? I’m gonna start dinner.” He called back a “sure, babe.” and you filled two mugs with the red. You sipped yours with a soft hum and began chopping veggies on the large cutting block.

Sam appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wearing a sweater and carrying a flashlight, “I’m gonna grab some firewood outside. I’ll be back, okay?” He pulled you against him, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

You pulled back with a smile, “Hurry up, dinner won’t be long and I already poured your wine, hun.”

“I’ll be quick, promise.” He pecked your lips one more time and slipped away.

Your attention went back to the pot in front of you as you stirred the vegetable soup, bringing the spoon up to your mouth to taste it. Going to bedroom to retrieve your phone, you came back into the kitchen, clicking a random playlist on, and finished up the food. Song after song played, but it wasn’t until the soup was finished that you realized Sam wasn’t back yet. You cut the flame on the stove off and went to grab your hoodie to go find him but he was coming in the door before you stepped out of the kitchen, “Sammy, I was starting to get worried! What took so long?”

He was holding his hands behind his back with a beaming grin on his face, “I had a little side quest…” He pulled his hands around revealing what he was hiding.

“Oh my god, baby…” Your mouth hung open as you stared at the makeshift bouquet. A bundle of the all the diverse wildflowers you’d seen in the field on your hike, tied together at the stems with a few long pieces of the grass that surrounded them. He had to of gotten at least two of every species of flower there was, “Sammy, you went back in the dark and got these for me?” You took the bouquet from his hands and held it to your nose.

“Of course I did. I saw the way your face lit up when you saw them and knew I had to get them.” He watched you turn around and walk back to the kitchen, “Pretty flowers for the prettiest girl.”

“Thank you, honey, I love them.” You laid them across the countertop and went to the sink to fill a cup with water. When you turned back to him, He was standing in the middle of the room, drinking his wine, eyes locked on you, “Why are you looking at me like that?” You couldn’t hide the shy smile that ghosted over your mouth.

Sam set his cup down and stepped towards you, snaking his arms around your waist, “I love you…” He swayed you through the kitchen, holding you close while the music flowed from your phone, “I’ll pick all the flowers in the world if it means your eyes will light up like that.” He brushed the stray hairs from your forehead and began peppering your face with soft kisses.

You giggled through his attack, trying to shield your face, until he stopped and caught your lips with his, “I love you too, Sammy.” You wrapped your arms around his torso and held him tight as you laid your head on his chest, “I don’t need all the flowers… You make my eyes and my heart light up without even trying.”

He rested his cheek on the top of your head, humming along to whatever song played while he rocked you back and forth, “I’m still gonna pick you all those flowers tomorrow…”

[jqmalikhsgib]

wildflowers

three

it’s been three months since yn had me bed into the hotchner household. she’d loved the place the moment she laid eyes on it.

yn was mesmerized by how big the house was. going inside had only fueled up her awe for the mansion—it’s what she’d call it anyway. aaron begged to differ— aaron told her she could choose any empty room in the house she desired. yn never really having her own room in her life felt excited.

growing up she shared a room with her sisters while derek gets his own room. when she officially moved in with her boyfriend she still felt like she needed her own space, never really getting it—he’d hurt her for even thinking this—even now, with her son she still yet to have privacy. though having oliver changed her life completely, she’d never want to let him go, ever!

meeting aaron son only made her love children more! jack was the most adorable nine year old she’s ever known. he’s polite, smart, and funny. aaron had raised an amazing child. it broke your heart knowing that the poor boy lost his mom. yn didn’t know the details of the situation, but she knew it was horrible for everyone, especially aaron.

yn learned earlier on that aaron wasn’t very open. he’d greet her in the morning, eat his breakfast, said goodbye to jack, and head to work. he’s a very stoic man. she felt bad the first few weeks of invading his space. after opening up to derek about it—regretfully—the next morning aaron sat her down and apologized. she’d blushed from embarrassment, letting him know it’s his home and any time he’s ready for her to leave, she’d go.

aaron let her know that wasn’t necessary. the team had currently been looking for her ex privately and they’re all gonna do whatever it takes to bring this guy in so she and oliver could live their lives in peace and harmony.

aaron explained to her that he’s just not use to have a woman in the house for a while. after his wife passed away, he’s dated here and there, but it never really worked out. yn completely understood that! she’d only ever been with one man her entire life—at least consensually—bill was all she knew.

after that aaron opened up to her more! he told her about his wife and how she had been his first love, talked about jack and how he was the light of his life, even told her things he’d never ever tell dave or the team—simply because they’d make fun and he’s the boss. somethings should remain a mystery to them—

she opened up to him herself. she’s told him about how the night she left, she left to be with bill for three months and had enough. she explained how she’d been scared to go back to her family due to him threatening to harm them. she ultimately went back after everything with kim happened.

she told aaron the true nature of her relationship with kim. she didn’t want derek to know she’d been in love with her. not because she was afraid he’d think ill of her. she knew better than that! but because it hurts to even think about. she felt like it was her fault that kim died! if she’d never been in her life, if she never met kim, she’d still be alive. she vouched for the ‘older sibling’ story instead. sometimes even forcing herself to believe that.

aaron and yn grew closer and closer. aaron felt like a proper family with her around. it’s been awhile since that has happened. even with beth he still didn’t feel this comfortable with someone since haley. still, he’d never cross those boundaries with yn. not only was she derek sister, she’d been through too much for him to make that move. though yn would think otherwise.

she wanted aaron to make a move. she’d been giving him hints here and there but nothing. yn just assumed maybe he didn’t like her in that way. this made her give up soon enough. he didn’t seem the type to be pushed and she wasn’t the type to push others.

when yn got home from work she immediately ran upstairs to her baby boy. she payed the babysitter before saying goodbye and kissing oliver on the cheek.

oliver gives his mom a gummy smile. his first little tooth popping out. yn kisses his cheek lovingly as oliver squeals. “hi, baby! how was my boys day.”

he starts to babble. yn pretends like she understood every word he said. the only words he knew so far was mama, gurt—short for yogurt—no, and baba—for bottle—

“oh, wow! you had a great day, huh?! mama sorry she’s stayed later than usual. someone called in and mama had to work a double.”

oliver didn’t know what she was saying but he looks at his mom as if she hung the moon. the boy loved his mom!

yn never felt so much love before until she had her son. she knew the boy loved her the moment he was born. the way his eyes glowed when she looked down at him while he was in her arms for the first time.

that was the most purest moments of her life! she’d never take it for granted.

“miss yn?” yn turns around and sees jack. aaron must have just came back from being gone on a case for a few days.

“hi, jack! is your dad back?”

jack nods. “may i ask you a question?”

“sure.”

“i kinda need help asking, dad something. i just don’t know how to approach it.”

yn frowns.

“okay, what’s it about?”

jack sits down on the bed. yn gently puts her son down and hands him his toys. he plays with his rattle while she smile before sitting next to the nine year old boy.

“today in art class we have a project.”

“what kind?”

“we have to make a family tree. we’re allowed to either write down in the box about are family members favorite things or ask for a family photo. i know about my moms family, but i don’t know anything about dads. i wanted to write down their favorite things because i don’t think dad has any family photos. i just—i don’t know how to ask him.”

yn eyes widened.

“oh, wow buddy. that’s tough! have you ever asked about your other grandparents?”

jack nods. “he’d always say that grandpa wasn’t around much. then he got sick and passed away.”

“what about grandma?”

jack shrugs his shoulders. “he doesn’t talk about grandma at all.”

yn sighs. “i think the best thing is to rip it off like a bandaid. explain to him what it’s for! that you have a project and it could help you in the end with your grade. see how that approach works.”

jack nods. “you always know what to say, miss yn.” jack hugs yn tightly.

she felt her heart beat faster than usual. she loved jack hotchner as if he was her own. getting to know the kid the last few months have been amazing! she’d do anything to protect both her boys.

yn kisses the top of his head. “anytime kid!”

aaron sighs as he gets a text from erin. he knew exactly what she wanted! he was aware that he the team wasn’t supposed to to be working on any other case—especially one that doesn’t exist—but aaron wasn’t gonna stop until they found bill.

aaron wanted yn to have a normal life for once. knowing she’s been through so much in her life time. from losing her father to escaping her abuser! life wasn’t on her side.

aaron watched the same thing happened to derek. but he became stronger, tougher, more in control with his life.

not to say that derek doesn’t have his moments of feeling out of control, but yn felt lost every single day. aaron noticed she’s always looking over her shoulder. he hates that she has to deal with the trauma and try to be the best mother she could be. aaron wanted to take away that pain as much as possible!

aaron still didn’t understand the feelings he’d felt towards her. he just knew it was something about yn. though he could never go there with her. he knew how derek is about his family. and he’d never wanted to step on his toes. plus aaron’s older than her, a little bit too much.

with aaron just turning forty-seven, and yn being thirty-five, he knew the age gap was still very risky. this is why he tried to stay as professional as he could with her. aaron knew she’d been flirting with him. he just pretended to be a clueless idiot.

“aaron?”

aaron turns around and sees yn holding oliver. he’d taken a liking to aaron over the last few months! oliver opens his arms towards aaron and he chuckles before taking him.

“how are you, big man?” aaron gently bounces the one and a half year old.

oliver babbles as yn watches with a smile on her face. “im so glad that you two are getting along. i just came to ask if you had dinner? i was gonna order a pizza.”

“that sounds good, yn. i don’t feel like cooking anyway.”

yn nods as she grabs oliver gently. “great! come on ollie, let’s get you bathed and put down for a nap, huh?” yn coos.

aaron stares at her as if she hung the world. he truly was screwed.

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

The Wildflower

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings: very might mentions of death, (Y/N)mentioned like once, storm anxiety, so much fluff that I hope it has everyone kicking their feet, heaving making out, Jack being so sweet and gentle,  smutty goodness but no sex…yet, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, more fluff, cute banter

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Notes: Look who remembered how to write!! This was inspired by a TikTok and truthfully I have more plans for our inn keeper and Jack. Halfway through I knew I wanted to keep this universe alive so I’m not sure when more from here will happen but I hop it does soon. Thank you all for the continued support and being patient. Massive thanks to my editor as usual @clint-aww-no-barton and let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list!

ao3 link

The rain made a soft pattering on the roof and windows. Music filled the room, from the record player in the living area, until the rain drowned it out. You let out a soft sigh as you moved the needle from the Elvin Bishop vinyl. It didn’t matter, the rain made its own rhythms. You glanced out the big window, that faced the main road to your small inn, noting that not a car was in sight. It was going to be a slow evening and, most likely, an even slower weekend. Rainy days didn’t tend to bring too many people in to stay, but on the rare occasion, you didn’t mind having the old inn to yourself.

  You had grown up in this place. Chased kids of guests down the hallways during the summer. You would spend time there with your grandmother, who had started this place with your grandfather, and refused to stop when he passed. You even begged your mom to let you stay during holidays, and she always let you. You had loved it since the moment you stepped foot inside. As you had gotten older you started helping, and soon took more of it over as your grandmother aged. She had written one single thing left to you in her will. The only thing you ever wanted, the inn. Some of your last words to her were your promise to take care of it, until your own dying day. She was pleased with your declaration and so far you had lived up to the promise.

  You smiled softly to yourself at the memories that floated you by during times like this. When you actually had time to think. You made your way across creaking floors to the kitchen and put on a pot of water for tea. The light draft that always swept through the place kept you constantly in a sweater, or cardigan of some kind, even in the dead middle of summer. You never minded it, and truthfully it was perfect to you. The whole place was. You double checked a few things, to be sure everything was ready just in case someone decided to stay, before settling in an alcove and opening your book. Your tea settled in your left hand, taking slow steady sips while it cooled. It was honestly a perfect evening.

  Night fell too quickly, and even with the little bit of light you had already turned on, the page in front of you was getting harder to read. That was your cue to get up and start to lock up for the night. You stood and stretched carefully, and began your nightly routine. You were just finishing up in the kitchen, about to head to lock the front door when you heard the distinct sound of someone opening it. Your eyebrows knit together, confused at who in the world would be stumbling in this late. You walked into the living area, to find a man in a cowboy hat and suit.

  “Please tell me you’re still taking guests?” He drawled.

  “You’re right on time actually. I was just about to lock up.” You gave him a soft smile as you watched him visibly relax.

  He was handsome and his brown eyes held a softness, and something you couldn’t place, but it was comforting. He was also dripping wet, and both of you seemed realize it at the same time.

  “Right! Let me get you a towel! So sorry.”

  You moved quickly, turning back to the kitchen and through it to the laundry room, grabbing a fresh towel from the the dryer.

  “Do the best you can with this, and I’ll get you in a room as soon as possible. If you want I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer. That’s if you don’t get them dry cleaned.”

  You found your self fumbling your words, suddenly awkward. You dealt with people every single day, from different walks of life, and this wasn’t the first handsome man who had walked through your door. He was just more so, and he was making you nervous but not in a bad way.

  “That would be amazing darlin’. Names Jack by the way. I do apologize for coming in so late, and in such a state. I had a bit of a late evening and this was the first place I came to.”

  “(Y/N) and it’s perfectly alright. You’re my only guest so, welcome to the Wildflower Inn!” you gave him a big smile. “I have some left over food from my dinner tonight if you’re hungry. After you get settled that is.”

  “Oh that would be even better. I really appreciate that darlin’.”

  “Not a problem at all. Let me show you to your room.”

  He picked up the bag he had set down to dry off, and followed you. You lead him to the room close to yours, for reasons you weren’t quite sure of, but you went with your gut.

  “Here’s your key. You have a small closet here, a full ensuite bathroom. The tv may be out because of the storm, so I hope you don’t need it to…”

  You didn’t get to finish your sentence before lighting flashed through the room, and a crash of thunder rattled the windows, as the lights flickered and then went out.

  “Shit. Well, the tv is definitely out,” you let out a bit of a chuckle. “Also in every room is a flashlight.”

  You walked to the bedside table, opened the drawer and pulled out a flashlight turning it on.

  “I’ll go get a lamp, so you’ll have some more light.” You give him a smile.

  “Thank you darlin’.”

  You gave him a nod and went to grab a gas powered lamp, placing it on the bedside table and lighting it.

  “I’ll leave you to settle. You can come down when you are done. Lucky for you I have backup supplies, but your clothes probably won’t be getting dried.”

  “That’s perfectly alright. I have extras. Thank you for everything darlin’. You’re a natural at this.”

  “Well, thank you,” you gave a smile, your cheeks hot, before turning to leave.

  You were careful with the steps, as you made your way back downstairs and into the kitchen. You pulled out more lamps, lighting them and placing them in just a few places where you could watch them. You turned and started to work on fixing a sandwich for Jack, careful to only open the fridge sparingly. You had no idea how long the power would be out, but you prayed not long enough to ruin your food. Just as you were finishing up you heard footsteps, and soon Jack was joining you.

  “I hope it’s okay. I left everything off so you could fix it how you wanted. Please do eat as much as you want,” you gave him a soft smile.

  “Thank you darlin’,” that damn nickname was going to be the death of you.

  “I have water and sweet tea.”

  “Oh sweet tea for sure. I’m too much of a Southern boy to turn that down.”

  You let out a chuckle as you fixed him a glass. Just as you sat his glass down and was turning to fix yourself one, the thunder crashed again shaking the house and rattling the glasses in the cabinet. You jumped, feeling yourself inching closer and closer to being on edge. A normal, calm, thunderstorm didn’t bother you, but this one seemed to be getting worse. And with no power it was making you nervous.

  “Whoa! Hey you okay?” Jack stood up, his chair sliding against the wooden floor.

  He reached for you just as you turned, and realized the two of you were closer than you thought. You looked up at him, trying to calm yourself down but your heart only pounded more from the look of worry dancing in his brown eyes.

  “I…I’m okay. It just scared me. I don’t do well with storms,” you felt your face heat in slight embarrassment.

  “That’s alright. Why don’t you keep me company while I eat real quick? And then maybe we can do something together? Do you have cards? We can play by the lamp light?”

  “Yeah I have cards. That…that would be perfect.”

  He nodded before he went back to his seat, and you turned to finish making your drink, grinning like a school girl with a secret crush. You hardly ever had men come stay here alone, and the few times you did, you’d been slightly nervous. Being a woman running this place mostly alone was not ideal, and it could get ugly fast. Jack, however, didn’t make you feel that way. He made you feel at ease, sent your heart racing, but you felt like you had known the man your entire life. It was something you had never felt before, but you loved it. You sat across from him and sipped at your drink. The two of you slid into easy conversation, learning more about each other. It was easy to talk to him, and he had you laughing and smiling more than you had in awhile. The only damper to the evening was the crashing thunder, and howling wind that joined in, making the bones of the house creak. Jack watched you carefully and seemed to hurry his dinner along, until he finally sat back.

  “That was delicious. I was hungrier than I thought,” he let out a chuckle.

  “I’m glad it was good. I really wish you could have had the soup. It’s a specialty of mine.”

  “I doubt this will be the last time I ever see you. It will just give me an excuse to come back.”

  You both froze slightly, with your eyes connected to each other. Your stomach erupted with butterflies and once again you felt your face heat.

  “I was secretly hoping that you wouldn’t just leave and never look back,” your words were soft but even over the storm you knew he heard you.

  “I would never. This is too…”

  “Easy?”

  “Exactly.”

  The both of you fell silent with small smiles on your faces. Another crack of thunder and a hard gust of wind broke the moment, making you jump and close your eyes.

  “Come on, let’s get into those cards, and get your mind off this storm.”

  “Right.”

  You stood and turned to one of the drawers in the kitchen and pulled out some playing cards. You sat back down and looked across the table at him.

  “Ready to get your ass kicked Cowboy?” The nickname slipping out accidentally, and you stopped breathing.

  That was until Jack broke out into a smirk, and you swore you saw a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Oh it’s on darlin’.”

  You pulled the cards out, shuffled them and the two of you started in on your first game.

  The storm had settled outside. Rain continued to fall and distant thunder could still be heard but now it was peaceful. You had lost count of the number of games you and Jack had played. Running through various card games, and even a few he taught you how to play. You tried your best to stifle the millionth yawn you had let escape in the past thirty minutes, but failed miserably.

  “I think we should turn it. I’m sure it’s late,” Jack smirked as he looked up at you.

  “I’m fine. I swear,” your eyes were heavy and you knew he could see the lie on your face.

  The truth was, you didn’t want to go to bed, because you didn’t want him to leave. You figured he would leave tomorrow morning at some point and the thought crushed you. It was odd how quickly the man had worked himself into your mind, but there was something about him.

  “Come on darlin’,” he stood and held his hand out.

  You took it and he helped you stand, before you both put out all the lamps and padded upstairs with the flashlight. Jack stopped at the door of his room, and you did the same. You turned to him, hand on your door handle.

  “Well, goodnight Cowboy,” you gave him a smile.

  “Goodnight to you too darlin’,” he returned the smile, but he didn’t move to walk into his room and neither did you.

  The two of you kept eye contact for longer than normal, and you wondered if his mind was racing with the same thoughts yours was. You were silently begging him to just come kiss you. Take those few strides to you, and just, kiss you. You didn’t want to have to toss and turn in bed all night, no matter how tired, and wonder what those lips would have felt like. He seemed to battle himself too. Then his hand fell from his door handle.

  “Oh fuck this,” he spoke just above a whisper before he was in front of you.

  His hands came up to your cheeks in a gentle hold and his lips crashed against yours. You reached up to fist the front of his shirt, and wasted no time kissing him back. You melted into him, your mind going fuzzy. You had never been kissed like this. No man made butterflies, no fireworks, erupt inside of you like this man did. You realized in that moment, you were in deep. The two of you reluctantly pulled away when air became a must. Jack’s forehead rested against yours, and the two of you panted. Your eyes were still closed, trying to gather yourself, but you could feel him watching you. Finally your eyes fluttered open and were met with brown ones. He seemed to watch every thought cross your face.

  “Tell me you want to,” he whispered.

  “I want to. Please,” you sounded slightly desperate, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to really care.

  That seemed to be enough for him. His mouth fell back to yours and he picked you up carefully. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers finding purchase in his brown locks and your legs wrapped around his waist. He fumbled with your door but soon you were through it, and then you were against the wall, trapped between it and Jack. His kisses were eager and so were yours. It was like the two of you would never be able to get enough of each other. Finally he planted you on the ground and pulled away. You were a mess, and the man had only kissed you. You glanced at yourself in the mirror that was attached to a small vanity behind Jack. Your lips were swollen and red, hair slightly disheveled and you were a panting mess.

Jack’s hand gripped your hip and took ahold of you, pulling you to him. He gave you one more slightly softer kiss.

  “Let me make you feel good, yeah?” He spoke low and gentle.

  You couldn’t speak, too afraid of your voice giving you up, exposing the wreck you truly were, so you simply nodded your head. Jack’s hands travelled up your shirt, inching slowly across the skin of your stomach and up to your breast, squeezing over the fabric of your bra. You let out a shuddering gasp and gulped slightly. You watched him watch you, as he let out a chuckle at your reaction. Then he slipped your shirt over your head and let it fall to the floor. Your bra went soon after it, and he didn’t give you much time before his fingers had the hard pebble of your nipples between them. He pinched, pulled and you let out a moan, arching into him slightly before he released them. Never once did his eyes move from yours. He turned you slightly, and gently pushed you down to your bed, your legs hanging off. He hovered over you, kissing your mouth again, before pulling away and starting down your body. You let out a sigh as your head tipped back, eyes fluttering closed, trying to focus on where his lips touched. It was all so gentle and intoxicating. His lips wrapped around your hard nipples flicking them with his tongue, before he continued down your stomach till he was right where your jeans rested across your hips. He kissed right there under your navel, as he unzipped your pants before pulling them, along with your underwear, completely off. They joined your shirt on the floor and you finally forced your eyes open to look down. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen, this man resting himself between your thighs. You let out a whine as he placed your legs on his shoulders and wrapped his arms around you, to keep you pinned down.

  “I know darlin’. I got you,” he spoke, his breath ghosting over your already soaking wet center.

  You shuddered and watched as he leaned in. No more slow movements. This man knelt between your legs, taking you in his mouth like this was the first meal he had had in months. Like you were the last thing he would ever taste. Your head flew back, a moan almost at the pitch of a scream erupted from your lips, and your hand flew to his hair, lacing your fingers there. You were putty in his hands, completely at his mercy and you had never had a man touch you like this. You panted, moans still falling from your lips, as he moved his tongue around your clit before sucking the bundle of nerves between his lips. You jumped, letting out another yelp.

  “Jack,” his name fell from your lips like a prayer and his eyes looked up at you smirking, as his tongue went back to work.

  His right arm lifted and he pushed your right leg slightly off his shoulder stretching you open more. He pulled his mouth, away pulling another pitiful moan from you. His middle and ring finger rubbed at your now sensitive clit, causing you to jump and you looked down catching his eyes. He never moved his gaze from yours as he slipped his two fingers deep into you. He started to flutter them against that delicious spot inside you. Your head went back again and now both of your hands found purchase in his hair. His mouth went back to your clit and his fingers started to move even quicker inside of you. You thanked God that there was no one else in this house, nor a single neighbor in ear shot as you screamed out. You were reeling and you could feel yourself inching closer and closer to the edge, before Jack moaned against you. You snapped, your body going ridged, back arching, a mixture of curses and his name falling from your lips. You tried to close your legs but he wasn’t letting up, determined to get you through your orgasm. Finally your body gave out and melted into the bed as Jack let up. His lips peppered kisses across your center and thighs, before he was crawling back up to your lips. When he kissed you and you tasted yourself it sent a whole new jolt through you, and you moaned against his lips. Your fingers fumbled with his pants and his hand reached out stopping you. You pulled away, hurt clearly written across your face. Jack did nothing but smirk and kiss your nose.

  “Let’s take it slow darlin’. Not that I needed anymore reason to come back, waiting gives me more incentive to hurry my ass up.”

  “Wait, you really do plan to come back?”

  “Darlin’ you had me the moment I walked in to this place. I took one look at you, and knew that this wouldn’t be the only time I ever saw you.”

  The smile that spread across your face was a beaming light, and your stomach fluttered with butterflies.

  “It took me a bit longer.” You smirked as Jack’s eyebrows furrowed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It took me longer than the second you walked in.” Another look, puppy dog eyes activated “After I realized you weren’t some crazy killer, then I was good.”

  He let out a chuckle and shook his head. “You had me worried there darlin’.”

  “It was a few minutes instead of seconds but who is really counting?”

  “Oh I am. I’ll always tell people I fell first now.”

  Both of you let out laughs that mixed together, and it was a sound you would never get tired of. Silence fell and the two of you kept your eyes on one another, try to memorize everything you could.

  “So… when will you leave?” You paused for a moment. “And how long will you be gone?”

  “I can stay another day but then I gotta get back home. I shouldn’t have to stay away too long but I never know. My job is…unpredictable.” He spoke as his fingers brushed hair from your face.

  “What do you do?”

  “I wish I could tell you darlin’. It ain’t nothing…like what you may be thinking. I’m just not allowed to say and normally its not a problem. It could be dangerous.”

  You nodded your head in understanding. It made your stomach twist slightly, but you tried to push every single thought that fired off in your brain.

  “I’m going to try and take some time off and come back here. We ain’t too awful far from each other. I can help out around here, earn my keep and all.” He smirked.

  “Oh yeah. I don’t let anyone stay for free,” you chuckled as you looked up at him.

  He finally laid down next to you, pulling you into him.

  “I think I can think of plenty of ways to pay you back.”

  “Oh I can too. I have some pipes that need fixing, the lawn needs to be mowed, I can send you grocery shopping,” you pulled your hand between the two of you to tick things off on your fingers, before looking up at him.

  The look on his face made you burst out laughing. 

  “I see how it is. You finally got a man around so I’m going to have a honey do list.”

  “Exactly! I just happen to put myself on there too. Mentally,” you taped your temple and smirked up at him.

  “That’s what I thought,” he smirked kissing your forehead and you giggled.

  The two of you laid there ,falling into easy conversation until you felt yourself slipping to sleep.

  “Sleep darlin’. I’m right behind you. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Jack’s lips once again caressed your forehead and you curled into him.

  As you fell asleep you knew there would be many more nights shared with him in your little inn, and you couldn’t wait.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​ @weasleywinchester​

[mathiwrites]

To me, want is much more romantic than need. Love is a choice, and across every obstacle, you choose to always come home to them.

photo cred @ annie spratt

[writingcold]

Bootleggers & Wildflowers Masterlist

The Kiszka/Wagner Company is relatively new to the community of Kingsford. Cora is seeking for a way out of certain starvation and ruin for her family when she gains employment under the new ownership of the mercantile and general stores. Rumors of shady business practices of her new employers aside, she is certain that she is on a path that will see her family out of debt and into a better light.

Content warnings: Adult situations, alcohol and drug consumption, hard language, violence, character death, abuse and neglect, poverty.

Chapters

1 - Introductions 2 - Wounds and New Friends 3 - Rescues and Business 4 - Friends, Heartbreak, and Futures 5 - Permanent Post and Junie's Wedding 6 - Dancehalls, Visiting, and Drives 7 - Distance and Trouble, Sunday Suppers and Picture Shows 8 - The Chase, Behind the Curtain, and Courtship 9 - Decent, Heart Sick, Care 10 - Debt and Realization, Learning, Protection, End of Act I 11 - Bank, The Moon, and The Lantern, Junie's Plight 12 - Fear, Kidnapping Junebug, Aftermath 13 - Appearances, Healing, Needs 14 - Safety, Falling Apart and a... 15 - Energy, Marriage, and First Disagreement 16 - Dark Horizons 17 - Conversations 18 - Long, Bleak Winter Through Three Sets of Eyes 19 - Rough Roads, Pending Storms, Tasting Colors 20 - What is to Come, Cat and Mouse, A Picnic... 21 - The Story of Jacob and Beatrice 22 - Arrests, Anger, Kindness, Sabotage 23 - Saying Goodbye, The Beginning of Their End, Flicker of Hope, A Bucket of Fear 24 - Going Sideways, Small Victories, And... 25 - Safety and Endings Epilogue - Blessings

[profoundbondfanfic]

weeds or wildflowers?

weeds or wildflowers? by junkyardheart (@faithdeans) Rating: General Audiences Word count: 7k

“This is what I’m trying to tell you, man,” he sighs, fingers kneading into his thighs, “I don’t know what it feels like.” “What what feels like?” “Love… being in love. I don’t– I don’t know what the difference is,” Dean, fresh off six hours sleep, looks exhausted. What follows is a string of teary confessions, leading them to a better understanding of what Dean and Cas want from each other, and what "love" means to them. A/N: Please note that this is an exploration of what a queer-platonic relationship could look like for Dean and Castiel. If you want a romantic fic I have those too, but this piece of representation is important to me, so please leave any aphobia at the door, thanks.

Welcome to another finale fix-it fic. But this one is not like the others. This one explores Cas and Dean's relationship through a queer-platonic lens.

Dean hasn't been avoiding Castiel exactly, it's just that things are a little awkward between them since Castiel returned from the Empty. Castiel thinks it's because of his confession. He never expected Dean to return his feelings, but he never expected their friendship to suffer because of it either. But Dean is plagued by his own self-doubts. When he opens up to Cas, what follows is a series of conversations, an exploration of different kinds of love, and settling into a relationship that can only be defined by them.

And yes, destiel is the greatest love story ever told, but that love doesn't always have to be romantic. Their everyday life, or their milestones, or their future, doesn't have to be defined within what society considers normal. They can just be them and make it up as they go. And the journey is just as significant, and just as soft, and just as sweet. And yes, you will cry.

[icebrooding]

And just more Wildflowers-esque stuff because I wanted to draw Trahearne in the AW armor again,,,,

[nomattertheoceans]

The Sound of Wildflowers - A Hunger Games story

“Do you hunt them a lot? Does?”

He looks surprised at her question but still answers.

“When I can, yes. They fetch a good price at the Hobb, that is, when the butcher isn’t interested.”

“The Hobb? You mean the old warehouse?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of, I guess you'd call it a black market.”

Read chapter 9 on AO3

[sigmoon]

𓇢𓆸 Wildflowers under the summer rain

Chapter one: Orange Lilies

An introduction, a prologue to the actual story. Reader realizes that she’s developing feelings for Fyodor and thinks back to how their time together started. This chapter contains the essentials of y/n‘s backstory and what led to her and Fyodor working together. // The first five or six paragraphs take place a bit further into the story, then there’s a small time skip to the past and the story starts from there on.

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

cw: Mentions of PTSD, s*ic*dal thoughts, violence, abuse, a teeny tiny mention of smut if you squint.

You hated him. 

Every fiber of your being shook with fury when your mind started to wander again, decorating the corners of your mind with pictures of him. If you lost your focus for a mere second, his familiar voice rang in your ears and his face was everywhere, even when you closed your eyes. That damn face; the almost sickly pale visage, with unflattering dark circles and that never-ending smug expression, that you’ve wanted to wipe off of his face ever since the day you first met him. Everything about Fyodor was infuriating, from his tiring preaching about God to the way he carried himself with a sense of superiority over you, no, even all of humankind. His presence made you sick, yet you craved it and felt even more on the edge than usual when he wasn’t near. Mindless gnawing on your fingernails, tapping your foot under your desk while you were working, a tightness in your chest that made you fear you’d suffocate; you felt restless, your brain foggy until he was somewhere, anywhere near you again. 

And you hated how much you needed him, hated how you caught yourself staring at him when he didn't notice, hated how good his praise felt when you finished a task successfully. You hated how your words came out less harsh than intended when you wanted to snap at him, hated how you suddenly blushed when your hand grazed against his, your entire attitude softening like a boiled potato. 

You internally scolded yourself when, after he walked past you, you inhaled his scent as deeply as you could and enjoyed it. Or, even worse, when your hands slipped between your thighs or under your shirt when you lay in bed at night, a slideshow of images of him playing behind your closed eyes. And when the ecstasy subsided and the clarity of what you’ve just done set in, a cocktail of shame, humiliation, and denial of your feelings rushed through your body and kept you awake for hours.

However, your confusing need for his presence was completely involuntary, of course, nothing you had any sense of control over. Because despite feeling a little less fidgety and under the weather, you found yourself to be no less irritated by him when he was near. After all, you still found him insufferable, right? 

His tirades about creating a better world, when he made an effort to hold a conversation with you, have always made you want to vomit. Besides the fact that he was a textbook hypocrite, you had experienced the cruelty of the world you lived in first-hand, and hearing a man as pretentious and vile as Fyodor blabber about being the chosen one to rid the world of its sin and atrocity, caused you to shake with the urge to jump up from your seat and strangle him.

Because how could he even remotely understand the agonies of your existence? How could a person as wicked and indifferent as him comprehend what you’ve been through, let alone be the one to rid the world of such horrors? But in one regard, he was right. The world was a hideous place, a place where common sense, sincerity, and empathy were more rarely found than diamonds, and that realization has accompanied you since your childhood days. 

You've been under Fyodor’s wing for months now, but the events before your time with him in the cold, poorly lit underground facility where the background work of his schemes took place, felt like they had happened just yesterday. Long before Fyodor, that merciful saint, managed to free you, an inmate of the high facility prison for ability users, called Meursault, you had met one bad decision after another and catapulted yourself deeper into the pits of misery than that monster, an abuser you didn’t even bother to view as a fellow human being, ever could. When you, even years after it happened, still felt his hands on your body, smelled his scent, and saw his face in every man that walked your direction, you made a choice that you prayed would finally bring you peace, even if it would only be for a single night. One night during which you didn’t wake up in a cold sweat, wanting to peel your skin off and hyperventilating until you fainted. One night during which you didn’t stare at your bedroom ceiling, wondering how many people would miss you if you were gone. You were willing to do anything to achieve that feeling of justice that the law failed to give you, a system that did everything to protect a man from the consequences of his actions, even if it was at the cost of a girl’s will to live.

That urge to get revenge was your last straw, that spark that kept you going. After years of being tormented by your bloodthirsty fantasies in which you returned all the suffering and came up with the most vile and unspeakable things, you finally managed to make them reality. 

Your ability, a fickle one, hard to tame and a mystery even to yourself, came in handy. Your relationship with your ability was complicated, to put it mildly. You always knew that something about you was different, a little off, and you knew that it scared those around you who were aware of it. The ability itself was subtle but still harbored such force and intensity that you seemed to have an aura around you that made most people avoid you. This isolation, which was familiar to you all your life, left you no choice but to discover and explore your ability all by yourself, and although it always remained hard to grasp and even harder to tame, you soon figured out that it enabled you to not only make people feel weird about you but also to inflict tremendous agony upon others. Bitter and vengeful as you were at this point in your life, this realization caused you to feel almost blissful with excitement.

You figured out a suitable punishment for your abuser, and once your deed was done, he was nothing but an empty, broken shell of a human, a pile of flesh and bones that longed for nothing else but the sweet relief of death. But you were not going to grant him this, no, he needed to live with this indescribable pain and not be freed of its shackles. 

As enjoyable as this unspeakable act was for you, you still felt unsatisfied. Breaking the monster wasn’t enough, no, there were many other people out there, even in your own life, who never got what they truly deserved. Drunk on that feeling of your newfound power, one victim became two, then three, then so many that you lost count. Wherever you looked, you saw injustice that you urged to do something about. However, it was naive of you to think that you’d get away with this purging. Since your ability left no signs of physical violence on the victims, and they all seemed to have been tortured with the same method, all traces soon led to the only possible culprit. You knew what reputation you already had, thanks to your ability, so it was no surprise that those who were aware of it were quick to snitch on you. 

One thing led to another, and before you properly realized it, you sat in a ridiculous-looking, transparent, floating cube, imprisoned and surrounded by countless identical cells, in each one an inmate, one more despicable than another. As if receiving a life sentence for being an ”individual too dangerous and unstable to remain among civilians“, as they so eloquently put it, wasn’t bad enough, being in a place like Meursault was beyond humiliating. 

Deindividualization by being given a number, constantly on display for guards and your fellow inmates to watch, even having your vitals monitored, made you almost lose your mind after less than a week. To the great amusement of the guards, who harbored nothing but contempt for the prisoners, you threw almost childlike hysterical tantrums after only a few days, you even stooped so low as to beg them for mercy, to free you. You didn’t belong in this place, you screeched, you did what was right, what the executive forces of the state failed to do. 

Your misery only worsened from there, and after being mocked and ridiculed by the other inmates, who were delighted by your pathetic display of despair, finally being entertained a bit in this dull place, you even pleaded for the guards to just finally execute you, to end everything because you couldn’t take it anymore. But your wish wasn’t granted, of course, and you soon gave up trying to find ways to end it yourself, in your cell, as the damn cube offered no suitable solution. 

You lost track of the number of days you spent in Meursault by the time Fyodor, or rather, a few of his subordinates, carried out their superior’s plan to get you, that infamous ability user, out of Meursault. Your doings didn’t go unnoticed by Fyodor, who seemed to have his eyes all over the world, and he was quite intrigued by your ability, curious how he could utilize it for himself, mold and shape you to become a perfect new pawn for his own shady schemes...

Next chapter

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee ♡

Hio’s note: Thank you for reading the first chapter of „Wildflowers under the summer rain“, I hope you enjoyed it :) I’m very excited to share many more chapters with you, and finally get the ideas that have been brewing inside my mind for a while out now. If you think a content warning is missing, don’t hesitate to let me know.

© sigmoon

[fairytwles]

sapphic hellcheer my beloved

[aimeelouart]

Zonai Champion

[thisapplepielife]

Bang Dem Sticks

Character(s): Gareth | Word Count: 800 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Drumming, Future Fic, Gareth & Eddie are Best Friends

Takes place in the Tuesday's Gone With the Wind universe but I don't see why it can't be read as a standalone as long as you know Gareth's a drummer.

2023

Gareth sits behind his drum kit in a little studio. It's just him, several cameras, and the handful of guys behind the glass in the control room. He was invited to come do a video for a YouTube drum channel, where the concept was sold to him as a challenge where they'll play a song they think he's never heard, without the drum part. And then he has to blindly play what he thinks the drum part actually is, just to see how close he can get. 

That sounded like a fun stop on the press tour, a change of pace from the same old, same old, so he agreed. At least this involves playing the drums, instead of just talking about the new album, the new tour. Getting asked the same four questions over and over. 

This time some of the interviewers are getting brave enough to gently ask if he’s getting ready to retire. He’s not. Not yet. But that can’t be too far off. He’s almost fifty-five. He’s been on the road, nearly continuously, since he was fresh out of high school. He loves drumming, he does. But he also doesn’t want to die behind his kit on the road. He doesn’t want to die on the road, at all. He worries about that. He wants to retire, and spend the rest of his time with the people he loves most. 

If he’s gonna die behind the kit, it’s gonna be the one in Harrington House, surrounded by the people he loves. Not in a strange city, all alone. 

Not to mention, his right knee is getting to the point of needing some attention. The steroid shots are helping, but they're a short term fix. If he wants to walk into his old age, he’s probably looking at surgery. He hasn’t told Eddie that yet, because Eddie’ll fret about it. So there’s no need to worry him until it can’t be put off any longer.

So today he takes an Aleve, shows up, sits behind his kit, and lets them rig up all the cameras. Overhead, of his face, his hands, his feet. Then he waits.

When they give him the go sign, he sits up a little straighter. They play a song, and he starts playing along. He knows this one from playing with Eddie.

They try another. Eddie. 

And again.

Eddie. 

Eddie. 

Eddie. 

He finally laughs, "You're gonna hafta go newer."

He's sure they have his resume. They are clearly staying away from metal and hard rock. But crossing genres isn't enough for older songs. If it had an interesting drum part, Eddie's probably already dragged it into Hellfire Studios at some point over the years for them to play together. No matter the genre. 

"How do you know all those?" they ask through the headset, clearly a little surprised. They had a handful of songs, and he knew them all. They need to dig deeper.

Gareth just smiles. 

Eddie won't want to be named, not publicly, so Gareth just laughs and says, "I have a friend I jam with sometimes. He has very broad tastes."

They dig up something else, something newer, and it’s finally one Gareth’s never heard before. He gives them a thumbs up, and counts the time signature. It’s in 4. He listens closely. Finds the groove of the bass. Feels it. Thinks about how he’d slide in the pocket, if this was his drum part to build from scratch.

The song ends, and Gareth gives it his best shot. 

When he’s finished, they roll the playback of the full song, original drum part intact, and he realizes he wasn't that far off. He's been a drummer for over fifty years, a professional for decades, and he's just happy his ear still works. That his instinct is intact, even on modern music. Though, this was a throwback of a song if he’s ever heard one. They should have found something truly modern, if they wanted to trip him up. Not a young band that has clearly found inspiration in the 70s, in Zep and Rush. Gareth knows how that goes, lived it, a long, long time ago.

Weeks later, when the video gets posted to the YouTube channel, it sure doesn't take very long for the comments on the video to start naming Eddie as the friend.

That's okay. Eddie's certainly not scouring YouTube for videos of Gareth anyway. And it's not like Gareth was the one that ID'd him. It's no secret they still play together, that they are still best friends. 

And in three days he'll be back home, playing with Eddie again. Where he wants to be. Maybe he’ll bring this new tune home and see if Eddie can figure out the guitar part, just for fun.

The YouTube algorithm served me up this video of Chad Smith yesterday and I was like, oh, Gareth.

And here we are. It didn't really fit in with anything I have left for Wildflowers...and All the Rest, but I was inspired to write it, and thought, hey, it can just be a little standalone.