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dancingtotuyo · 1 year ago

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Part II

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: The weight of your husband being in jail starts to take its toll.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: prison, visitation, family stress, lots of tears

Notes: Shout out to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading this and helping out with the details! Also shoutout to @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 3310

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

You inhale deeply as you sit at the metal picnic table. Nathaniel bounces contently on your lap, taking in his surroundings. Families gather at each table, a low rumble filling the room. You glance down at your watch. The inmates are due any second, and Joel is supposed to be here too. Your eyes dart around the room at the families in the same boat as you. They all look a little different, consisting of different family components, but the same thing brought you all here.

Joel rushes in, the summer heat and job site filth evident on his skin and clothes. You wave him over to your corner table, feeling more relaxed to have him here. You’ve been able to talk to Tommy for an hour every week, but this is the first time you’ve gotten to see him since his sentencing.

“Hey,” Joel says, breathless as he slides in next to you. Nathaniel lets out an exuberant greeting, hands banging against the table. Joel chuckles. “Hello to you too, bud.”

“I thought you might not make it.”

“Cement guys were late.” Joel sighs, trying to brush the dirt from his shirt.

“Typical.” You mummer, earning a small chuckle from Joel.

“You good?” Joel places a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see him.” You smile, kissing Nathaniel’s head.

A couple guards file in to stand watch. Then, a loud buzzing rings, and the other door opens. It feels cliche, like one of those law procedural shows on TV. The room goes silent as men in orange jumpsuits file in, hands cuffed in front of them. Their eyes scan the crowd for their loved ones. Slowly, the volume rises as families reunite. Tommy is one of the last ones through the door, but the moment your eyes land on him, you feel tension ease from your body.

You stand, waving to him. His eyes finally land on you, lifting with a happiness you haven’t seen in a while. He has a cut over his eyebrow. It looks a couple days old by now, a faint bruise still visible around it.

You’re allowed a brief hug. Nothing long enough to transfer forbidden items is the idea, not that you could’ve gotten anything in here with the security patting you down how they did.

He melts into your soft touch just a little like he did when he’d come back from his second tour. “Hey, Baby.” He smiles into your cheek, his lips skim your cheek as you pull away to avoid being yelled out.

Joel hugs him next with a big pat on the back. You can hardly keep your eyes off him, your hand drifting absentmindedly to Nathaniel’s shoulders. Your two-year-old stares at his father with a sense of familiarity. He looks up at you and then back to Tommy. “Daddy!”

Tommy’s head snaps over, smile instantly falling from his face. “What’s he doing here?”

“Tommy…”

“I told you not to bring him.” He snaps.

“He’s your son.”

“This ain’t no place for a child!” Tommy says. “You don’t see Joel bringing Sarah for a visit, now do you?”

“Sarah,” you say, pulling at all your self-restraint. “Had soccer camp today but she said to tell you hi. She was sad she couldn’t come.”

“I want you to get him out of here. Now.” Tommy insists, not backing down.

“Tommy-“ Joel tries to quell his brother’s rising temper.

“Is this really how you want to spend visitation? Fussing at me for bringing our son to see his father?”

“Get. Him. Out!” Tommy says, smoke blowing from his ears. One of the prison guards starts toward your group.

Tommy holds up his cuffed hands in silent surrender. The guard backs up with a warning glare.

“I don’t want him here,” Tommy says. “I made that clear.”

Confusion skirts your brow. Your Tommy, the one you know and love seems to be at war with the person he’s become during his short time behind bars.

“I’ll take him out,” Joel says, reaching out for Nathaniel. He accepts, sitting comfortably on his uncle’s hip. Joel pauses, giving Tommy a chance to change his mind, but he looks away.

You bite your lip. Joel sighs. “I parked next to you.”

You nod as he walks out with your son. Tommy sits down at the table. You sit across from him, mouth drawn in a tight line.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“He shouldn’t see me like this. You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“You fucked up, Tommy, but we’re still here. You really want to go two years without seeing your kid?”

“It’s not like he’ll remember,” Tommy says. You sigh in exasperation. A faint smile finds its way onto his lips. “It’s almost like old times. You upset with me.”

You choke out a humorless laugh. “This is nothing like old times.”

“No… I guess it’s not.” He sobers up.

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Do you really not want him to come see you?”

Tommy nods, stuck in his resolve. “Don’t really want you here either.” A sly smile crosses Tommy’s face as he runs a finger over your knuckle without being caught. “Don’t like these other guys checking out my woman.”

You roll your eyes, helplessly falling for his flirting. “How progressive of you.”

You step into the Texas sun twenty minutes later, slipping your sunglasses over your eyes. You walk across the parking lot, following Nathaniel’s empty chatter to Joel’s pickup. Nathaniel busies himself in the back while Joel rests his forearms on the edge. You come up beside him, copying his stance. Nathaniel doesn’t notice you, too engrossed by the plethora of less-than-safe tools and scraps in the back of Uncle Joel��s truck. Your elbow touches Joel’s, the metal hot under your arms.

“Thanks for taking him.”

Joel nods. “Tommy really doesn’t want him to visit?”

“Nope.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He’s your brother.”

“You married him.”

You let out a little huff of laughter, a half smile gracing your face, spreading to Joel’s. His deep laughter fills your body. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Any regrets?” Joel kids, turning his head to you.

You laugh. “Never. I don’t live with regrets, Miller.” You nudge him with your shoulder, tapping the side of the truck. “Nate, it’s time to go. We have Sarah’s exhibition game.”

Your toddler turns around, hammer clutched in his hands. “Play!”

“Come on, kiddo. You can play with my tools another day. I got a whole garage full of ‘em,” Joel chuckles.

Nathaniel seems to contemplate the words for a minute before letting the hammer clatter to the bed of the truck. You cringe at the sound before your son reaches for you. Joel chuckles, making sure his items are secure as you pull Nathaniel into your arms.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Today has been a lot.”

“Of course, I’m gonna go, Joel. It’s Sarah.”

He smiles, knowing your role in her life goes above and beyond the duties of an aunt, but not knowing how to communicate his gratitude for it. “Save me a spot? I have to run back by the job site. I should make it for the second half.”

You can see him cringe as he says the words. You know he feels guilty about it. Sarah’s been talking about this since the start of soccer camp. “Of course.”

Sarah clocks Joel the moment he walks into the building, her attention is no longer on the coach who’s giving a mid-game pep talk, but on her father across the field. Joel shoots her two thumbs up and a massive grin before directing her attention back to her coach.

Joel slides onto the cool metal bleacher beside you, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank god this thing is indoors this year.”

You nod remembering the blaring sun and burning metal bleachers from last year’s camp exhibition game. Your eyes narrow over Joel’s appearance. He seems even dirtier than he did an hour ago. “You take a dirt bath at the job site or something?” You reach over, patting some of the dirt from his shoulder.

“Something like that.” Joel chuckles.

Your thumb swipes away a smudge along his jaw. His jaw twitches under your touch. He playfully swats away your hand, capturing it with his own. “That tickles.”

“You’re filthy.”

“I didn’t really have time to shower on my way here.” He bumps against you lightly.

“Hence the dirt bath?” You grin, returning the bump, but this time your shoulder and thighs remain pressed against the other’s. His hand falls to your bare knee, hanging off of it. As the second half starts, Nathaniel climbs into your lap, eyes fluttering toward sleep.

For all the cheering you can’t do, Joel makes up for it, spending much of the game on his feet. It might only be an exhibition game and there might not be an official score, but it’s glaringly obvious that Sarah’s team is dominating with Sarah scoring two goals of her own. Joel is beaming.

“She looks amazing out there.” He says.

“She really does.”

“And she’s having a blast. Look at that smile.” Joel’s smile is just as big as his daughter’s, big enough to push away your own struggles of the day.

Sarah makes a break for the three of you as soon as she's dismissed. She drips with sweat, but her smile never fades as she goes on about every thought that went through her mind throughout the game and Joel hangs on every word.

Once Nathaniel rouses from his sleepy daze, he ropes Sarah into kicking the soccer ball around. Joel joins them on the field while you watch, your body coming down from the emotions of the day.

“Mrs. Miller?”

Your head snaps around. A woman about your age dressed in athletic wear smiles at you. You’re pretty sure she was one of the coaches.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Coach Miranda. I lead Sarah’s unit this week.” She stretches out her hand.

You shake it, supplying your first name in return. “Nice to meet you. I know Sarah had a blast this week.”

“I enjoyed having her,” Coach Miranda says. “She’s a talented soccer player.”

You smile, pride swelling in your chest. She’s not your kid, but that parental feeling toward her is very much there. “She learned so much. Her dad and I were talking during the game about how much she’s improved this week.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” The coach rocks on her feet, briefly considering her words. “Look, I coach one of the travel teams in the area.” She hands you a brochure. “I know she’s still a couple years away from being old enough, but we put on a few camps and clinics throughout the year for kids her age.”

You flip through the brochure of information. “These look very… fancy.”

“We offer scholarships if money is your worry.”

“No- I mean, it’s pricey but… She’s six.” You finally manage something coherent. “She just turned six. It seems early to start anything this serious.”

“Your daughter is very talented, Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh- I-” You stumble over your words.

“Is everything okay?” Joel asks, joining you with Nathaniel on his hip.

“I was just telling your wife how talented Sarah is.”

“We’re not married.” You blurt out unceremoniously, face feeling flush. There were smoother ways to navigate this and you are missing each one.

The coach’s face flashes with confusion and embarrassment. “Oh- I’m sorry. I just assumed when I said Mrs. Miller…”

“I am,” You feel more flustered than is needed. Nathaniel reaches for you and you take him from Joel. “I’m not his Mrs. Miller. I mean-”

“She’s my sister-in-law.” Joel finishes for you and you sigh in relief. “Helps me out a lot.”

Coach Miranda nods, a slight red tinge to her cheeks from the embarrassment. “Got it,” she says, holding awkwardness in her frame.

“It’s okay,” you assure her. “I’ll let him know.”

She nods, excusing herself quickly.

“That was odd,” Joel says.

“Being mistaken for your wife? Or her behavior?”

“Her. The wife thing I understand.” Joel shrugs. “Guess she was embarrassed.”

“The wife thing you understand, huh?” You cross your arms, smiling pushing on your lips. “I’m sure your brother would love to hear that.”

Joel shakes his head. “Don’t think he’s interested in anything I have to say after today.”

You roll your eyes, not wanting to relive the day's earlier events. “Here.” You hand him the brochure. “Apparently the coach thinks Sarah should sign up for more camps.”

“These are pricey for a six-year-old.”

“That’s what I said. She just kept saying how good Sarah is.”

“Course she did. She was the best one out there.” Joel smiles proudly. He tucks the brochure into his back pocket without another thought. “The princess wants pizza tonight. Your little troublemaker agreed.”

“Wow, you gonna start blaming everything on my kid now, Miller?” You laugh.

“If the shoes fits.”

“Ironic considering you called Sarah the princess.”

Joel rolls his eyes, waving the kids over. “I’ll pick it up on our way home. Your place or mine?”

“Yours works. I’m sure Sarah needs a shower.”

“Works for me,” Joel grins.

Nathaniel jumps into your arms. Joel takes your purse and Sarah’s duffle and the four of you walk out hand in hand, looking very much like the family Sarah’s coach assumed you were.

Two Years Later

You’re two years into it, obeying the strict dress code, getting pat down by security guards, and brief touches and chaste kisses with your husband. You typically go alone, leaving Nathaniel with Joel or a sitter. Joel comes sometimes. Usually, he visits Tommy on his own time.

The visits have gotten shorter, more curt. Tommy has been more irritable. You chalk it up to being stuck in prison, but this most recent visit leaves your emotions fried. Tommy barely looked at you, hardly strung together more than a sentence or single-word response. He didn’t flirt with you, his signature grin nowhere to be seen.

You press your back to the back door as it shuts behind you. Squeezing your eyes tight, you do your best to will away the tears you shed on the drive home.

“That you, Darlin?” Joel calls, rattling around in your kitchen. “I was just about to put the steaks on the grill.”

You hear Nathaniel playing in the living room. You catch a sliver of Sarah’s ponytail, back hunched over the table presumably doing homework. You take a steadying breath, but your diaphragm shakes.

When you don’t respond, Joel peaks around the corner. His brow furrows as he takes in your defeated frame.

“Sarah,” he calls out. Your eyes open at his strong voice, locking eyes with him. “Keep an eye on Nathaniel for me. I need to go out to the garage for a couple minutes.”

“Okay.” She says, none the wiser to your appearance.

Joel takes your hand, tugging you forward just enough to get the door open before he propels you back into the garage. Your body feels like a limp noodle, helpless to do anything but let him lead you.

The door clicks shut. He cups your cheeks. His soft brown eyes laced with concern meet yours.

Your body eases into him, desperate and touch starved as you grab ahold of his soft shirt. Shaking your head, your whole body begins to tremble. Tears fall down your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s okay,” It’s a stupid thing to say and he knows it.

“No it’s not!” You shout. “My life’s a mess! It’s all a mess.” You devolve into a puddle of indistinguishable words and sounds.

Joel pulls you into his chest, supporting your weight as your knees threaten to crumble beneath you. “Shhh, I’ve got you.”

If he’s being honest, Joel isn’t surprised by the breakdown. He constantly watches as you try to hold it all together. He’s visited Tommy too. He’s seen the impact of prison and self-loathing on his younger brother.

His hand slides behind your neck, cool against your overheating flesh. His fingers play at the nape of your neck, soothing you as you soak his shirt. It’s an event the two of you have become overly familiar with. Joel’s arms represent stability in your unstable world.

Slowly, the tears dry and your chest stops shaking. Joel presses a long, firm kiss on your forehead. With one final deep breath, your heart rate returns to normal and you’re able to slowly pull yourself away from your brother-in-law.

He gives you a smile, brushing away your tears. Wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve, you manage a weak laugh. “I’ve been kind of a mess lately.”

“You?” Joel quirks a smile. “I haven’t noticed.”

A laugh clears your throat. “Thank you for everything.”

Joel shrugs. “It’s what you do for family, and ours is going through a lot right now.”

You nod, smiling through bloodshot eyes. “I really do appreciate you, Joel. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

Joel reaches out, fixing the sleeve on your shoulder. His fingers drift over your soft collar bone not enough for you to notice, but long enough for him to memorize the feel of it.

“Don’t think I could either, Darlin.” Joel forces a smile, masking his true feelings.

He doesn’t say how mad it makes him that Tommy has put you through this, or that you deserve better, or even hint that he would support you leaving his little brother even though he knows Tommy would be heartbroken. He can’t say any of it because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Joel isn’t sure what those feelings are yet, but he knows it’s so much more than one should feel for their sister-in-law.

“That’s not true.” You shake your head. “You did this long before I came along.”

“Maybe, but I think we make a pretty good team.” His chest tightens. That word doesn’t seem to encapsulate what you are to him. The words that do are inappropriate to use. You’re just two people brought together by their love of another person. Joel has repeated that sentence to himself more times than he cares to admit.

“Yeah. I suppose we do.” A smile finds its way to your face and you clear the last tears from your face. “How do I look?”

“Like you’ve been crying for an hour.” Joel chuckles, letting his finger run the length of your jaw. He’s pushing a line. He knows, but he can’t help it. These stolen moments are all he gets. “But amazing as always.”

“I swear you and your brother couldn’t tell a woman she looked bad if there was a gun to your head.”

Joel shrugs, putting his hands in his pocket to avoid doing something he may regret. “We were raised right.”

“Mhmm, that’s why my husband is in jail right now.”

Later that evening, you’re cleaning up from dinner, a drink within reach when Joel speaks up. “I think we should go on vacation.”

“We?”

“The four of us.”

You turn the idea around in your head. It would be nice. You can’t remember the last time you had a real vacation, probably before Nathaniel was born. “What were you thinking?”

Joel shrugs. “Just the beach. There’s this place we used to go when we were kids. I’ve been wanting to take Sarah.”

“You sure you’d want us to tag along?”

“Did we not just talk about this?” He steals a dish from your hand, placing it in the dishwasher. “We’re a team, and we could all use the break.”

“Yeah, It’s been a year… or two.”

“Try five.” Joel offers a weak smile. You return it. “I’ll call tomorrow. See what’s available.”

“Thank you.”

taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #high infidelity (joel miller)#ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories

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wannab-urs · 2 years ago

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The Peg That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2024

Hello and welcome to the PMAMC 2024, a Pedro Pascal Character Fanfiction Event!!!!

Last year a few of my friends and I haphazardly threw together a little fic event where we wrote a bunch of Pedro Pascal characters getting pegged. This year, I decided to make it a whole thing, as I often do.

The rules were simple: one fic per Pedro Boy, they get pegged. That's it.

Here are the fics!

The Main Event

Comandante Veracruz - @flightlessangelwings

Dave York - @theywhowriteandknowthings ✨

Dieter Bravo - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Din Djarin - @prolix-yuy

Ezra - @for-a-longlongtime - TBA

Frankie Morales - @beskarandblasters

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels - @wannab-urs

Javi Gutierrez - @max--phillips

Javier Peña - @morallyinept ✨

Marcus Moreno - @magpiepills

Marcus Pike - @agentmarcuspike ✨

Max Phillips - @gasolinerainbowpuddles ✨

Maxwell Lord - @idolatrybarbie

No-outbreak Joel - @eupheme

Oberyn Martell - @lincolndjarin

Pero Tovar - @nerdieforpedro

Post-outbreak Joel - @jksprincess10

Pre-outbreak Joel - @hier--soir

✨ indicates new fic as of today

Extras - 1/22

(Either not included in the main list or being written for more than once. You can submit a fic to be included on this list after the Main Event has posted!)

Frankie, Veracruz, Max Phillips, Marcus Pike, Silva, Ortega, PATS, Tim Rockford, Mr. Ben (SNL), Paul (SNL), Mario (SNL), Zach Wellison, and more!

----

Happy Reading!

#PMAMC 2024 #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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intheshadowsbehindyou · 2 years ago

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Hello! I love your writing style!! It's just so on spot, and I wanted to request some headcanons for the mercs with a gn! reader who doesn't really speak but they can communicate through sign language or paper for whatever reason, the thing is, the Merc and the reader find themselves in a really critical situation or just an incredibly intimate and comforting moment, blurting out for the first time something serious or stupid like "y'know when I first met you I thought you're really stupid...(affectionate)" IDK OF THIS MAKES SENSE OR IT'S WEIRD SORRY LMAOOA

(if you don't wanna do all of them you could do your faves & I hope there's a chance to add miss Pauling if possible😔) but anyway, too much to read,, sorry again!! Take care♡♡

Y/N with communication anxiety admits their feelings to the Mercs

Scout:

- He’s very chill and nonchalant about it. Although have fun hearing him talk his mouth off all the time and rant about random things. He takes a liking to you pretty quickly when you join his team and leans on the wall next to you tossing his ball from hand to hand and blowing bubbles with his bubblegum. “Heeey there slugger. What‘s your name? You look like a total nightmare today.” He says. When you don’t answer him and nervously gesture to your throat that you’d prefer staying quiet he pauses for a moment. “Not a talker, eh?”

- Literally will not shut the fuck up. Will talk to you for hours on end. Venting or just saying plain stupid shit to impress you. You find his personality rather charming and in exchange he seems to appreciate your content silence and preference to listen to him. Something that the other Mercs don’t really do.

- “Y’know, Y/N. I know this sounds fuckin’ weird but like— Thank you I guess? For listening to my nonstop ramblin. I mean.. Not many people stop to consider what I have to say.” He says this to you while you sit in Tuefort’s gazebo with him on a cold desert morning. “They just think i’m annoying I guess..”

- “Annoying yet charming and handsome nonetheless, Scout.” You finally work up the courage to mutter to him. Your voice is rasp and you smile.

- Scout pauses, then looks at you in complete disbelief. Did Y/N just speak? Atop of that it seemed to have been a flirtatious compliment. He takes a moment to process the situation and then sort of chortles. He runs his hand through his own hair and acts chill about it but on the inside he’s absolutely mad with feelings. “Wow.. That’s.. Yeah, OK.” he says, failing to find words. Face flushed with heat.

——————————————————————

Soldier:

- He was the first person to approach you in the base. Like ever. When he found out there was a new mercenary he needed to lay the ground rules to them as soon as possible. Instead of giving him a “Yes sir!” like he had hoped, you stared at him blankly. (I’d probably be rethinking this job offer.) Wondering why you hadn’t spoken up to him, he got close to your face and looked up and down you. “I’D LIKE TO HEAR A YES SIR PRIVATE!” Still nothing. You were too busy admiring his muscles. You’ve just met this man but you’d let him throw you off a bridge in an instant.

- When he still doesn’t get a response, he backs up and angrily fixes his helmet “Insubordination I see.. Heh. Okay.” He mutters and prepares to plan a punishment later. You are oddly charmed by his stupid greeting and you head to the nearest chalkboard and explain in writing why you can’t respond back. He lifts his helmet up to read it and then looks back at you. (The other Mercs are kind of stunned that Soldier even knows how to read in the first place.)

- “Ah, I see.. Strange tactical decision but not unheard of.” He responds, then straightens his posture apologetically. You two become close friends from then on. Medic has to explain to him later that you just have “mild” communication issues. For the first few months of your guys’ friendship the dumbass thought you were doing this to gain an upper hand.

- After a match one day you catch him smoking a cigar on a huge pile of bodies in the pouring rain. You step up the horrific mess of blood and guts to meet him. He doesn’t look too happy. Although Soldier never really opens up about anything to anyone. He’s way too deep in his little military fantasy. You sit next to him and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Whatever the hell he was upset about you knew it wasn’t good. After a bout of silence you whisper “You’re a wonderful strategist, Soldier.”

- You can’t see his expression underneath his helmet but you can certainly hear his heartbeat quicken because of how close you are. His mouth nearly twitches up into a grin. He doesn’t respond to your compliment but he’s relieved to hear one nonetheless after all this time.

————————————————————————-

Demoman:

- You find him making bombs in his quarters when you meet him for the first time. He doesn’t look too friendly but as you decide to walk by he immediately calls out to you. “Ayeee! New blood. Get ova’ here a second. Wee lil monster.” He beckons his hand aggressively.

- You walk over to him and he puts an arm around your shoulder. Patting you reassuringly. “Aye.. So It’s not gonna be easy livin’ here just so you know. We’re all a wee bit mad. Don’t take the others’ too seriously when dey bother ye.” He takes the responsibility upon himself to let you know as an older Merc it’ll be okay. He slaps you friendlily on the back after his conversation and sends you off. He doesn’t really question the fact you aren’t speaking.

- You immediately take a liking to him though. Mainly due to his explosive personality on the battlefield (pun intended.) He gets horribly drunk before doing any Mercenary work and acts goofy the entire time. His charisma pulls you in like a magnet. You want to speak to him but it’s so hard…

- After months of simping for this guy from afar, you slip a note under his doorframe professing your feelings to him. You hear him pick it up. The next thing you know, he barges into your quarters the next day after a match and grabs you by the shoulders. Asking you in complete disbelief if you actually meant everything you said.

- “Yes, I just think you’re really attractive!” you blurt out instinctively. Alarmed by his behavior. He lets you go; having heard your voice for the first time. The shock of the revelation and the sound of your voice, atop of the alcohol seemed to have done it for him. He immediately kissed you on the lips without warning. You’re the first person in years to say this to him.

- “I… Er.. “ He walks away after that. You have no fucking idea what the hell even happened.

——————————————————————-

Engineer:

- You hear the sweet melody of a guitar echoing off the intel room. Despite its clearly southern origins you are drawn to it. As if it was some sort of hypnosis. You’d recognize that melody anywhere. The year was 1967 and you were no stranger to your own childhood. That was clearly “El Paso.” You’ve heard that song on the radio a million times already. But somehow this was different. The soothing voice it came from was singing it as if it were his own lullaby to the multiple sentries around him. The ones of his own creation of course.

- Next thing you know, you’re sitting next to him on the intel desk, sleepy as all shit from the melody and the white noise from the patrolling sentries. You wake up an hour later to embarrassingly finding yourself on this stranger’s lap. You want to profusely apologize to your colleague but nothing comes out.

- He doesn’t even seem phased. For some reason he was stroking your hair as he gazed off into the distance.

- Ever since that day you became close to Engineer. He was completely unbothered by your communication issues and actually kind of appreciates the silent times he has with you. He rarely speaks to you while hanging out either, out of respect for your boundaries. Only the occasional conversation here and there. You are both existing together.

- “I love you, Dell.” You finally say, after a night of drinking in his workshop with him. You are perched up on his lap as always and he’s petting you. At first he misunderstands this as platonic. “Aww..” He cooes. “No, I mean it. I’ve always found you so —“ You bury your face into his chest. Muffling the last part of your sentence “Safe to be around.”

- He’s unbelievably boiling with hormones on the inside. He tips his hardhat forward to hide his flustered face. Holding his own chin. “Dammit..” He mutters in an incredibly positive way. You’ve successfully won this man over.

—————————————————————-

Heavy:

- He’s already met you before the job. Accidentally caught you in a coffee shop in Tuefort being yelled at by an ableist Karen and he took it upon himself to nearly strangle her for you. Heavy doesn’t tolerate behavior like that. You need to insult people with style or nothing at all. Don’t pick on their disabilities. Aim for the most stereotypical high school bully route possible. Come on, you gotta be an asshole skillfully.

- He could tell you were different the moment you joined the team. But that’s fine. He was quite misunderstood too. Heavy wasn’t a dumb himbo. He was a GIANT man with a lust for blood. Although he enjoyed chaos as much as any Merc, Heavy also valued silence. Something that you provided him with your presence. You catch him deliberately body shielding you on the battlefield because he knows this communication issue didn’t come out of nowhere. You’re distressed. This was his subtle attempt to let you know he cared.

- He catches you unable to sleep one night. He opens your door and notes the fact your light was still visible through the cracks. You’re sitting on the bed in an uncomfortable fetal position.

- “Little thing will not sleep?” He asks you. Although he has his typical hardened expression the question suggested he cared. “Hm. Stay here. Heavy will grab bedtime story.”

- He reads you an old Russian classic. Although depending on who you are you might not understand it. Regardless the soft sounds are alluring sleep. It’s clear he’s read people stories many times before because his whispers hit all the right places.

- You mumble to him a thank you. Which makes him pause mid sentence. He doesn’t know how the ever living fuck to process what he’s feeling right now. It’s a mixture of affection and the pang of what is typically the start of romantic attraction. Ew gross he’s feeling soft and fuzzy emotions.

- You pull him under the covers with you eagerly. He grumpily obeys but he doesn’t know why. He nearly destroys your bed with his weight and has to put you on his chest to cuddle. You can hear the sound of the ubercharged baboon heart inside him. Still pumping away and working to keep him going. You slip into slumber easily.

————————————————————————

Pyro:

- Talking is overrated anyway. Nobody really understands Pyro when they speak under the mask. Trying to say something simple like “There’s a spy behind you.” is often met with a confused expression. When Pyro meets you, it’s when he’s allured by your skills on the battlefield. In their point of view you are a glorious unicorn prancing around a field of pollen. (More like debris from the enemy soldiers’ rockets but that’s besides the point.)

- There are rare moments where Pyro is completely lucid and self aware of the fact they’re a mercenary for hire though. They compliment you on your abilities after a match and it takes you a while to understand but you nod.

- They won’t. stop. complimenting. you. You are dragged to his tea parties and childish shenanigans and you find over time it’s surprisingly pleasant to escape from the bloodshed once and a while. Cuddling sessions ensue as time goes on.

- You catch their face without their suit while they’re getting changed. That is vulnerability that Pyro wasn’t ready for yet. They break down sobbing and self depreciating and you feel heartbroken. Who the hell taught them to hate themselves so fucking much? You’re having a bit of empathy overload right now as they squeal and choke up. Finding no other alternative but to speak blissful things about their appearance and personality. Hearing you speak for the first time makes them cry more. (In an incredibly positive way luckily.)

———————————————————————

Sniper:

- Oh shit. Another person whose super quiet for some reason?! Except your situation is different. You’d like to socialize but it’s difficult. Sniper doesn’t want to socialize and he hates basically everybody. But he has that “grumpy older brother who teases you” energy. He’s well aware you’re younger than the other Mercs and therefore a tad easier on you.

- He’s scoping out a crack in the window when he feels your presence behind him. His shoulders stiffen and that’s how you know he senses you. “Blimey. You’d make a terrible Spy.” he mutters. Bringing his gun away from the hole to put it down and face you. His hypersensitivity to noise is no doubt from being stabbed a million times.

- You wonder how he’s able to tell it’s even you in the first place. He’s possibly grown accustomed to how each Mercenary sounds when they approach his nest. You can smell the scent of strong cologne mixed in with bond fire lingering off him. Couple that with the fact that he’s so unbelievably hot? You came to bring him some morning coffee but you end up setting it down to spontaneously hug him.

- “Wh— fuck.” He growls. Both caught off guard and swaying a bit. Trying to adjust to extra weight. He hesitantly hugs you back. Wondering if you were sick or something and needed soothing. He doesn’t understand why anybody would want this from him. It takes him a minute to put his arms around you and pat you.

- “What’s wrong mate?” he says, in your ear. This man might be giving you a voice kink if you don’t already have one. Holy shit. You don’t want to be humiliated by your own voice in front of him and your lips quiver. Incapable of finding the words you’re thinking of. “You’re cute.” you finally say. In a last ditch effort when no other words came to mind. To say you desperately wanted this man was an understatement.

- You hear him take a sharp breath in. He stifles a groan from the amount of energy you just shot into his godamn stomach. Not only was it a pleasure to hear your voice for the first time but it felt intimate. He was very sensitive to things like this. You swore you could hear this man purring in your ear like a cat. He was evidentially as touch starved as you were.

—————————————————————

Medic:

- No speaking?! Oh! this man has to study you like right fucking now. What a curiosity. He’s never met somebody who had issues speaking like this before. He hates to admit —and won’t admit for that matter — that he might be doing this out of emotion as well. Believe it or not Medic can be an incredibly emotion driven person. Not just for the pleasures of harming people but the unwanted sympathy that comes with being human. He hates the idea he might care for you. Why does he even feel that way? It’s not like you’re different from any other Merc..

- Except you are. You’re you. That’s the problem. You’re lovable in every way and no amount of rumination will ever explain why.

- His first instinct upon discovering this about you is to ask you questions about how bad it is. Obviously quickly realizing how stupid that is — he hands you his clipboard and a fresh piece of paper to communicate. “Do you speak if at all?” “Do you experience this in the presence of certain stressors?” “Did you have traumatic experiences that led to this?” “Is this perhaps a case of selective mutism?”

- You scramble to write down incredibly passive aggressive and sarcastic answers but they are answers nonetheless. He seems pleased with the results. Under normal circumstances you’d hate being treated like a guinea pig but his excited smile was charming. The fact that somebody wanted to understand your situation so badly was a bit riveting. He was hungry for information about the human existence. “Danke!”

- You catch something you’d never suspect in a mad scientist such as himself. While he’s drawing mathematical equations on his chalkboard one night he periodically looks over his shoulder to frown at you while he thinks you’re not paying attention.

- He’s doing a terrible job at hiding his human nature. There was a bout of emotion in his eyes about your health. As much as the doctor tried to remove this from his work, it kept rearing its ugly head in certain situations. “I love you, Doctor.” You tell him.

- SNAP. His fingers break the chalk in half. Just like his crumbling facade. You could see his eye twitch as he accesses ten thousand possible answers he could give you in his mind. “Aheh, could you give me a moment, bitte?” He tells you. Waltzing into the other room. You could hear muffled screaming coming from his bedroom. He regrets taking this job and wished he died in police custody.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- YES! FINALLY SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T MAKE HIM WANT TO PULL HIS HAIR OUT AND BACKFLIP OFF A CLIFF

- Spy elegantly invites you to his quarters one night after weeks of avoiding you the first time you come here. He pours you some wine and hands you a glass. (adjusting your hand in the process because you’re holding the glass wrong.)

- “Do you know why I brought you here?” He asks. Pacing around the room and lighting himself a cigarette from his disguise kit. In all honesty you have no idea why but the sight of such a handsome older man doing this for you was distracting. “It is your performance as of late. You are throughly calculated I must say.” You couldn’t agree with this, but you wondered if he had some sort of thing for competent people. (Your assumptions are correct.)

- …. “Not to mention quieter than me when I scope out prey.” He mentions. Waving the cigarette between two fingers. He was a Spy and you had no doubt he was trying to read you like a book but having difficulties. He was especially accustomed to having small talk with the other Mercs to better fake their counterparts when disguised as them. You couldn’t help but feel a little flattered over the fact that not even a Spy could properly look through you.

- He looked at you rather frustratingly once he realizes you’re still not speaking. “Not even the slightest bit of speaking. Do you realize how much harder you make my job?” He complains sarcastically. You can’t help but crack a humored grin at this. He isn’t being ableist in this situation, rather he’s angry he can’t psychoanalyze somebody. You knew it was within’ a Spy’s nature to instinctively do this.

- He responded positively to your grin. Moving away and dragging his cigarette. Trying to hide a bit of his own amusement. “Yes, yes. You find my suffering to be equivalent to the entire circus.” He says. “But in in all honesty your silence is preferred.” Spy moves in and lifts your chin up with his pointer finger.

- “Tu es agréable à côtoyer..” He hisses. His voice sounding like a hungry cat as he draws closer to you. Spy has a very distinct look in his eye. One that basically screams thoughtful and mysterious. You nearly passed out at the unintentionally romantic gesture.

- “Please throw me off a fucking building.” You say.

- “What?”

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #medic x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #pyro x reader #sniper x reader #I FORGOT TO DO MISS PAULING IM SORRY

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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago

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Weekend Update 03/03/2024

Hello! This update will be a bit shorter than others. Due to school and other things I haven't written or read as much as I normally do. In fact, I'll need to push back one of my series because the outline for it doesn't look right at all. 🥸 I'm feeling more moody and my smut fairy is back. Not that I can't write fluff, it's just in shorter bursts. To sum up:

Two Hearts by the Ocean will be delayed by a week or two (hopefully I can get the outline to cooperate with ideas).

Roc & Doc is updated less regularly so it's not affected.

March Spring Prompts are ongoing. I've been keeping them under 1k so shouldn't be any issues there. I did several of them ahead of time so I'm working on the last 2/3's of the month. I think. There's 10 or 11 done currently. Ugh math.

Florida Heat and Foul Play are both smut so they're safe.

Weddings 101 with Dieter should be fine as well considering what I planned for the next chapter. Not sure when it will be out.

The Lake between us is still on schedule. (Out later today I believe and then bi-monthly.)

Diddle Disco Dieter is being beta read, so maybe this week.

Follow up to a Din Djarin one shot I did still pending. It doesn't have the right feel yet.

I'm also tinkering with a Javier Pena series and a Frankie Morales series as well.

Nerdie, you think maybe, you might have too many projects?

I'm not understanding what you're saying. 😙 Or maybe I do. I have been thinking about cutting back but then my brain says, 'No. Why? It's fine. Motivation comes and goes but your need to write is forever. Also, we can't just leave these ideas in here. They'll turn into cobwebs."

We...nevermind. Carry on.

Now for what you really came for, fic recommendations! 🥰 Make sure to check warnings before you read. 😎

Hot in the Hotel by @musings-of-a-rose Dieter Bravo with himself. (The mind is a wonderful thing. Also pro tip: accents). 😍

It's Leading me on every time we Touch by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (Poe Dameron x f. reader)

Aquarius by @magpiepills (Javier Pena x f. reader)

Private Chef Joel by @bluemusickid (Joel Miller x plus size f reader)

Hunger by @morallyinept (Pero Tovar x f. reader)

Hush by @dincrypt (Din Djarin x reader)

En El Mar by @magpiepills (Javier Gutierrez x f reader)

En El Mar by @magpiepills (Joel Miller x f. reader)

Lie to Me by @morallyinept (Javier Pena x reader)

Night Walks by @toxicanonymity (Joel Miller x f reader)

Feel Good by @charethcutestrory02 (Frankie Morales x Benny Miller)

Keep It by @jksprincess10 (Marcus Pike x reader)

Second Chances part 1 by @pedroscurls (Marcus Pike x f reader)

To the Flame chapter 6, chapter 7 and chapter 8 by @pedroshotwifey (dark Javier Pena x f reader)

Sorry by @secretelephanttattoo (Frankie Morales x f reader)

Bat & Al’s Hidden Treasure Fic Rec List by @magpiepills and @schnarfer

Stay safe and happy reading everyone! 🤗

Love Nerdie ❤️

#Weekend Update #nerdie's update #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Nerdie fic recs

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rorbison · 7 years ago

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ya know what dont let your friends and ur tumblr dash bully you into watching fma.

dont fucking do it just.

its not fucking worth it nothing is fucking worth it.

#leah ramblin #txt #hello i am leah i have never watched fma before today #i have cried once already #i have almost cried 3 times because alphonse is a good boy

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lightofunova · 2 years ago

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DONT MIND IF I DO i arrive precisiely on time like im pepsi man, and you cant expect pepsi man of all people to be anonyous

where do i START? thats the greatest hurdle thats been presented to me today. and, you know, as i send this, ive kind of come to a realization.. that, like??? 99% of our conversations are via my streams, and i feel like thats FUCKED UP thats my bad and i apologize for that. i need to make an effort to DM more because you are such a bright light!!! literally every time youve ever popped in, said hello and gone to work; every time you helped me in pokemon; or kept company on drawings- its the highlight of the day!!!!!

youre so exquisitely yourself, you know?

youre like... i dont know if this metaphor is gonna resonate with you, but youre like when theres a really tough day. the universe is testing you, and youre tired. you go, you sit down, and you pick up a familiar game where just its sight brings you comfort. resting back, you alight the game, and you just.. enjoy. thats what your energy is like. your presence is a comfort, and you brighten the day. youre good. youre just really good. thank you for being in this community and allowing us to partake in this silly adventure we call askblogging

also, i try to not play favorites, but bah gawd, reshi is definitely up there as one of my all times. such a great character whom i love unconditionally. youve done well, and i cant wait to enjoy more of the story you wish to tell, and i really appreciate the effort you put into it. its a delight and a blessing to enjoy your content. thank you again

NDJFJDBSBSB YOURE TOO KIND HONESTLY- Ill be honest sometimes I really dont feel like I deserve such sweet words from others haha, when I first read this I thought that for a moment. But honestly this really resonated with me once I reread it, it means alot to be surrounded by such amazing people who see me in such a wonderful light and enjoy me just being me? Sometimes I get worried that me being me feels kinda like,,,a third wheel LOL or like my ideas arnt as interesting or cool as others. But its people like you that really help build me up and get past all that.

Honestly seeing you stream can be such a highlight to my day and it gives me something to listen to while I’m busy drawing or going about my morning! Even thought we don’t talk in dms too much, it makes me happy to chat on stream and just chill cus the vibes are always immaculate haha.

And honestly oml the metaphor is just too kind 🥹🥹🥹 I completely know what you mean XD i’ve been there so many times myself and have done it alooot the past few days(hgss shiny hunting rn, no luck on starters so far haha) But gah you’re too kind honestly, It always makes me so happy that people like reshi in all her silly forms and aus(i feel i saturate her alot in some places and that sometimes people get sick of her,,,shes my main child im sorry LOL i play favs) but knowing people love her honestly make me giddy and happy because it makes me feel like I can craft a story with her or make a game with her. It makes my dream feel real, yaknnow??

Anyways i’ll stop ramblin haha you’ve made my night so much better esp after a tougg shift and I just appreciate it so much, thank you for everything truly

#also late happ borth im sorry i missed it waaaa #mod #dl #ooc #tired mod tired #but gushin about ocs is fun #today was tough but it was good #im making it through everything 💙💙💙

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waywardbeanie · 5 years ago

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A Man of Letters - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 6931 ish

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always), angst, spicy (smut), unprotected (ish) sex

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has read so far, thank you for sticking with me! All of the comments and reblogs mean so very much! THANK YOU!

Thank you to my beta’s @winchest09 and @whatareyousearchingfordean without them I would be sunk!

MASTERLIST A Man of Letters

If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

Dean “Tongue Magician” Winchester PO Box 323 Sioux Falls, SD 57101

Dear D,

You were right, I got both letters the same day. It was a really nice surprise. I hope that “Sam” likes the brownies. I’m sure they are stale, but I made enough for everyone, so please share them because I know they are for you. Sam literally eats one brownie when I make them. Work has picked up, and my schedule is full most days. I’m happy to be busy when you are gone, it makes the days go by faster, but my bed is too big and empty without you. I’ve slept on the couch a few times since you’ve been gone, I just leave the pillows on, and I can almost convince myself you are here.

I was thinking about the couch night, but now you have me thinking about the bed night, and damn, you are too far away to dwell on that for too long! Also, do not talk to me about me moaning your name in letters because I swear to God I will write you a note that you will have you locking yourself in Baby to read!

Things are pretty quiet here as usual. I went to the farmers market today and bought vegetables. I’m trying to figure out some new recipes to try. I know you said that you were up for anything, just no more butter beans because they taste like mud (which, for the record, they do not!), so we will see what I can do. I saw Mark from the garage there, and he told me to tell you “Hello” and that he is almost finished with the body of the 1971 Plymouth Hemi Cuda. He wondered when you would be back because he could use your help with the new paint job. I told him that the job you had was going to last longer than most but that I’m sure as soon as you got into town that you would help him.

D, I know we talked about the future before, but are you sure you want to walk away? I’m here no matter what, I’m not going anywhere. You need to be sure this is what you want to do for you. With that being said, I am selfish enough to say I want nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms every night and to wake up next to you each morning. I’m glad you wrote it in a letter because I can read it over and over. Sometimes, when you are gone, I just start questioning things and can be a bit insecure about all of it, but you knew that already.

I guess I should wrap this up, I’m sorry you guys are doing more research, but, as always it will pay off in the end. I’m not surprised you set up training for everyone, that is definitely your thing, and it gives you an excuse not to read those dusty books. You guys be safe and come back soon. I miss your face.

I Love You, Your Initial

3 Years Ago

They were a little over halfway back to the bunker, driving through Hastings, Nebraska, and Sam started to worry. Dean had not spoken 5 words this entire trip. He didn’t even want snacks when they stopped for gas. They have been driving for almost two hours, the radio on low, the only thing consistent is the tapping of his thumb on the top of the steering wheel, lost in his own thoughts.

“Dean.” He broke the silence

“Huh?” pulling himself from his thoughts, glancing at Sam.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“What? Nothing,” raising his eyebrows, he shook his head briefly.

Flicking his eyes to the backseat, Sam confirmed the vamp was still out cold. “Ok, I’ll start. I know that you knew where these vamps were hiding out long before I told you. Instead of helping me, you continued to point me in the wrong direction.”

He rubbed his hand down his face with equal amounts of irritation and embarrassment. “Sammy, it’s not like that I-,”

Annoyed Sam cut him off, “Dude, it is exactly like that, but the funny part is I’m not even mad anymore.”

“Fine, you know I don’t want to talk about this, but you get one question and one answer and don’t get all chick flick about it either because that’s not happening.”

“Great,” Sam smirked, “What’s Y/N’s favorite color?”

Without missing a beat, Dean answered, “It’s a tie between navy blue and dark grey.”

Sam threw his head back with a laugh. Dean’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile, turning up the radio as “Ramblin’ Man” by The Allman Brothers blared through the speakers. Laying his foot on the gas pedal, a little heavier to get back to the bunker to get answers from the comatose vamp tied up in the back seat.

Dean and Sam had left Y/N’s house 2 days ago. The first 24 hours she didn’t go anywhere without her phone, that got old quickly. She began to feel like it was a leash; finally, she went about her day and left it plugged in on her nightstand. Today was Saturday, she didn’t have any clients this morning; instead, it was all the things to catch up from the week. Mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, grocery shopping, stripping the sheets, and doing laundry.

She put her hair in a messy bun, threw on her Neil Diamond t-shirt with denim shorts, grabbed her BlueTooth headphones, linking them to her tablet, and set it outside on the deck and connected it to her playlist. Greta Van Fleet’s “Highway Tune” burst into her ears as she yanked the pulley to start the lawnmower. She chuckled to herself as she began to mow the backyard. Dean had mentioned a few times that he wanted to do it, but that was not going to happen. She had put them both out enough, and besides, it was a good exercise for her. Finishing up in a little over an hour, she put away the lawn equipment, grabbed a bottle of water from the “beer fridge” in the garage, and jumped in the Jeep. She wanted to head to two destinations, the grocery store and the gardening store to buy more plants and flowers. Working in the yard kept her hands and mind busy, and right now, that is precisely what she needed.

As she was perusing the freezer section for her favorite Ben & Jerry’s flavor, she ran into her friend Jennifer. They had met just a few weeks after Y/N moved to Lincoln and they had become fast friends. After a brief hug, they agreed to meet later on that evening for drinks on Y/N’s back deck to catch up. She stopped and bought some more daisies and headed back home, looking forward to spending the evening with her friend.

After planting the flowers, she ran in the house to quickly shower and wash her hair, scrubbing off the dirt and grime of the day. Finishing up, she wrapped her hair in a towel and dried off when she noticed Dean’s black flannel hanging on the door hook. He’d accidentally left it behind the last time he was here. Walking over, she brushed her fingers lightly over the material and as she brought it closer to her nose, she could still smell his woodsy maleness clinging to the fabric. She rested her head against the door, thinking about how much she missed him already and realizing how ridiculous it sounded.

With a sigh, she left the bathroom walking down the hall to her bedroom, pausing she looked at her phone lying face down on the nightstand. She was torn; part of her wanted to see if Dean had called or texted, but an overwhelming part did not want to be disappointed when he didn’t. She made a deal with herself, she would get dressed and dry her hair, and THEN she would look at it. Y/N did silly bargaining things like this with herself all the time, almost like bargaining with the Gods to turn the odds in her favor. She pulled on a pair of grey shorts and a and white Garth Brooks shirt, chuckling to herself, thinking of when Dean accused her of having more band shirts than he did.

Sitting in front of her mirror with her flat paddle brush, she began drying her hair in pieces, after finishing she put on a bit of mascara, eyeliner, and colored lip balm. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she was pleased with the results, standing with a huff, Y/N went to check her phone. Picking it up, she expected nothing. However, she slowly lowered herself to the bed as her screen lit up, her eyes growing wider with every missed notification.

Dean 3 Missed calls

Dean: Hey, Babe, been crazy with you know what. Just wanted to hear your voice.

Dean 4 Missed calls

Sam 1 Missed call

Dean: Y/N. Is everything ok? Call me when you get this.

Dean 2 Missed calls Sam: Tink, would you PLEASE call Dean? I might kill him soon if you don’t. Jennifer 1 Missed Call Dean: ok, I’m trying to keep my shit together right now, I’m FUCKING WORRIED. I’m just telling you right now if I don’t hear back from you in 2 hours I’m driving back.

Just then, her phone lit up in her hand, Dean’s face popping up, the ring scaring her so bad she dropped the phone. She scrambled to pick it up, pushing the speaker button quickly. “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice boomed through the speaker.

“Hey Dean, I’m so sorry-” she began.

Dean cut her off, “Are you good? Jesus Fuck, I was like a crazy person down here. You’re good, right? I mean you are answering the phone, so you’re alright. Right?” She could hear a slamming car door in the background.

“Dean!” she raised her voice to get his attention, “I’m fine I just left my phone plugged in all day, and I was busy.”

“Shit, right.” She could hear him running his hand over his scruff, “I’m sorry Babe, I know, I sound like a lunatic. We just haven’t been able to get anything out of this vamp, when you didn’t answer, my mind just started going to a dark place.”

“I promise, I’m really fine,” she soothed, “I mowed the lawn and went to the grocery and bought some flowers; just busy. I even saw my friend Jennifer today. She’s coming over tonight, and we are going to sit on the deck and have a couple beers.”

“Honestly, that sounds great Y/N/N, I just wanted to hear your voice and tell you to be careful. We don’t know who sent those vamps yet, and until we do, you just need to watch your back.”

She didn’t want to roll her eyes, but she couldn’t help it. There were only so many ways she could reassure him, she didn’t want Dean to worry about her, Y/N just living her life, maybe she was naïve. Hell, no one has worried about her since her parents’ death. It was a strange feeling.

“Dean,” she began, “What can I do to make you feel better?”

She could almost hear the sheepish shrug in his voice “I don’t know” pulling himself out of that quickly, his voice became stronger. “Could you just carry your damn phone with you?”

Dean heard the laughter through his phone, and he couldn’t help but smile, hearing her laugh warmed his insides. “Of course, I will! I do have a question for you, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Were you really going to drive back up here if I didn’t answer?” The silence on the phone went on for so long that she had to double-check to be sure they weren’t disconnected. “Dean?”

“Yeah,” came a gruff reply, “I was in the garage when I thought I would call you one more time before I left.”

“Oh Dean, I’m sorry.” Guilt niggled at her as she thought of him dropping his plans.

“Y/N, maybe I overreacted a little, but I’m so far away that, if shit went down, It would take me 2 ½ hours to get there.”

“I’m just living, Dean, but I will be careful, I swear. I don’t want you to worry about me. You have enough to worry about without adding me to it.”

Oh, Babe,” he chuckled, “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

“So, I thought I would come back up on Thursday night if that’s ok.”

“More than,” she replied with a soft smile, “I miss you.”

“Same,” he replied gruffly, “see you Thursday, then.”

“Bye, Dean,” she whispered. She pushed the end button and flopped back on the bed, heart pounding in her chest.

She missed him, but the idea of him coming back had her stomach in knots. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to have sex with him when he came back. She could barely keep herself in check before he left. It had been a long time since she had been intimate with anyone, what if she forgot how? She had been fine just shoving her sexual frustrations to the bottom of her priority list, life got its hooks in her, she was more interested in getting her business off the ground, fixing up her house and making a life for herself. He was the first person in recent memory who made her look twice. Now he was coming to stay with her. This time she knew that the couch was not going to cut it.

Dean’s POV

Bracing his forearms on the driver’s side window frame of Baby, he tossed the phone on her roof with a sigh. It’s taking all of his internal strength not to jump in the car right now and head back to Lincoln. In his mind, he knows that she is safe, but his chest still ached. This is why he didn’t involve himself in this type of bullshit. Sticking to the random hook up fitted his life. What the hell was he thinking, dragging her deeper into a life that she has no business being within a 1000 feet of? She is too sweet to get involved in his shit show of life. He was tossed into it the day his mother was roasted on the ceiling. Y/N deserves so much better than he could ever offer. If he had a brain cell left in his head, he would man up and text her right now to tell her to forget it, he wasn’t returning to Lincoln. He and Sam would track down whoever was after her and take care of it. Y/N could move on with her life and forget all about him and the nightmare life he leads. Exhaling loudly, Dean grabs his phone, shoving it in his pocket and pushing himself off the car, the adrenaline of his fear and anger still pumping through his veins. He knows she deserves better than a text. When he drives up on Thursday, he will tell her that it’s best for her.

Eventually, the stabbing pain in his chest will go away and if it doesn’t, maybe this is just what it would be like now that he really knows what he will be missing when he walks away.

Jennifer and Y/N embrace at the door when she arrives promptly at 7:00. It was an evening of a few too many beers and laughs. Jennifer switched to Diet Coke after two. Although she was a little more than tipsy, she was careful to keep most of the secrets when Jennifer started to question her about the black muscle car parked at her house when Y/N was MIA for a few weeks, no one knew she was hiding a bruised and swollen face.

Travis had kept his mouth shut as promised. Sam and Dean stopped in to talk to him about the “guys” who followed Y/N home and assaulted her. He wanted his bar as far away from that controversy as possible.

They ended the evening with more hugs and promises to get together again soon, Y/N made her way to her bedroom, phone in hand, drunkenly stripping off clothes all the way down the hall. Climbing under the sheets, she started to plug in her phone but changed her mind.

Dean’s phone buzzed with a text message at 1:17 a.m, he was sitting in the library nursing his third whiskey of the night. Picking up his phone, he thumbed it open to see it was a text from Y/N. As he opened the message, his mouth slowly began to gape open. Staring back at him was a selfie. Y/N was laying down, her hair fanning around her on the pillow, a sweet smile playing on her lips. He could see the curve of her breasts, turning the phone back and forth he was sure he could have seen her nipple. She was totally naked in that massive bed without him. The simple text accompanying the picture is what truly did him in.

Babe: Wish you were here

“FUCK!” he groaned loudly, closing his eyes, throwing his head back

Thursday came in a blink of an eye for both of them. Dean had texted Y/N to let him know he would be leaving around noon. It was 10:00 a.m. now, his anxiousness already kicked into high gear. Sam walked into the war room, a mug of coffee in his hand, still in his blue and black plaid pajama pants with a grey long sleeved T-Shirt. His hair pointing in every direction, bare feet smacking against the tile floor. He stopped abruptly when he spotted Dean pacing a path back and forth. He was already dressed in jeans and boots topped with a dark grey T-shirt underneath a burgundy and grey flannel. An empty coffee cup sitting on the map table along with his duffle bag.

“Dean?” he questioned.

“Yeah?” he responded, continuing to pace.

“What’s the deal? What are you doing?” He fully entered the room, placing his mug on the table studying Dean.

“I’m thinking! What are you doing? I just got shit on my mind,” he barked back, continuing to pace, stopping to look at his phone, before beginning his walk again.

“Aren’t you going to Y/N’s today?” Sam questioned, “I thought you would be happy. Instead, you’re stalking around here like an angry bear.”

Dean’s angry gaze snapped to Sam, confirming his characterization. “I’m coming back tonight.” Sam paused in the middle of sitting, standing back up, “Dude, WHAT?”

Running his hand roughly over his face, he sighed. “I got some space; after the other day, when I couldn’t reach her, it made me realize she doesn’t need to be dragged into this life. It’s too much.”

“And there it is” Sam threw his hands in the air, frustration written all over his face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean growled.

“Every.Fucking.Time,” he emphasized each word pointing his finger at the older Winchester. "Whenever you find a little bit of happiness, you start sabotaging yourself, it’s always something. This life sucks, you’re too busy, it’s the apocalypse, someone or something needs you more, you just shut down and tell yourself it’s not worth the trouble.”

Dean just stared at his brother as he continued to ramble.

“Just once Dean, just one time can you put yourself first?” he gestured toward him. “Yes, I know Y/N was a case and you are pissed off that the vamp won’t talk, you’re worried that your life is going to splash on her. She is stronger than you think, you think you need to pile all of this on your shoulders, you don’t. I have never seen you, my own brother, let his guard down around someone before.”

“She’s too good Sammy, she doesn’t deserve-”

“What?” Sam questioned, gathering momentum again “She doesn’t deserve to be happy? She doesn’t deserve to have someone care about her? You-” he pointed at him once more, “are both crazy about each other. I could see it on your faces every time I was in the same room with you both. You have earned the right to be happy.”

Dean crossed his arms contemplating Sam.

“Just do me a favor, would you?” Go up there and just see her, stay the three days, like you planned, see what happens. Promise me you won’t go up there halfcocked trying to tell her, like you always do to everyone, that you know what’s best. Leave your bullshit baggage here and just go see her.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled, hiking his bag on his shoulder as he picked his keys off the table, striding towards the garage, “I think you need to mind your own damn business.”

“When has that ever happened before?” Sam called after him.

As Dean began to drive to Lincoln, Y/N was running around nerves and excitement, twisting her gut. She had showered, shaved everywhere, lotioned up, fixed her hair, letting it flow down her back instead of the ponytail or messy bun look and she had applied light makeup. Looking down at her bed, almost every article of clothing she owned was spread out. Y/N picked up all of her dresses and hung them back in the closet. If she wore a dress, he would know that she was trying too hard.

“This is ridiculous!” she thought to herself as she started shoving clothes back into drawers. She settled on a pair of denim cutoff shorts and a sleeveless black and white blouse that cut in at the shoulders and tied at the back of her neck, flowing to mid-hip. Picking up the remainder of clothes strewn about, she muscled them back in her closet, slamming the door. She checked herself out in the mirror, happy with the tan legs and arms on display. Walking out into the living room, she started to feel fidgety. She had serious thoughts about going to work in the garden, but she would have to shower all over again. After wandering around the house, she checked her phone at 1:00. She had two hours left. Flopping on the couch, she flipped on the television and began channel surfing, trying to zone out.

As Dean sped up the highway to Y/N’s house, the conversation with Sam this morning was a consistent loop in his head. Actually, it was more of a Sam tirade. Dean knew what was best, right? Nip it in the bud before one of them could get hurt. She really wasn’t what he needed in his life, he told himself. Unattached works best for him. An after bar closing fling to get rid of the itch, then back to living life. No expectations, no texts, no I’ll-call-you-laters. But if that is what he wanted, then why did it make him sad and angry all at once?

Twenty minutes outside of Lincoln, he stopped for gas, seriously considering calling her to say he couldn’t make it. Sure, she might be disappointed, but she would get over it, wouldn’t she? No, he chastised himself, he would do the right thing and tell her face to face. He owed her that, at the very least. Looking at his watch, he realized that he had made a good time between leaving the bunker early so Sam would quit bitching at him and no traffic or cops on the 2 lane highway. He would be at her house at 1:30. Jumping back in Baby, he cranked the ignition “The Real Love” by Bob Seger blared through the speakers, it was a slow one, he reached down to flip the channel but paused but as the lyrics began to speak to him.

I think I’ve found The Real Love Genuine and true I think it’s really come my way today Babe I think it’s really you

I remember moments looking in your eyes Could have sworn I saw the spark of love babe Flickering inside

I’ve been around this track And the only thing I lack Is The Real Love

Placing his hand back on the wheel, his knuckles turned white as he squeezed, the pressure in his chest overwhelming him as he blinked back tears. His mind and heart screaming, “Don’t do this!!” Angrily, he threw Baby in drive, grinding his teeth together and snapping his jaw. He jammed his foot on the gas, leaving tire treads next to the pumps. The Impala fishtailing as he exited to the street heading towards Y/N house. The pain crashing through him as the verses washed over him.

Every time I see you, every time we touch I can feel the way you feel for me Babe And it means so much

And every time you look at me It’s just the way it all should be In The Real Love

Oh darlin’ darlin’ darlin’ Stay with me stay I long to see you in the morning sun Everyday Everyday

So until that moment When I take your hand I’m gonna try to do my very best Babe To prove that I’m your man

I’m gonna do my very best I’m not gonna rest Until we’ve got The Real Love

He was in agony, convincing himself it was what he deserved thinking about what he was about to do.

Hearing the deep rumble of Baby, Y/N sat up on the couch, flinging the remote on the coffee table. Her heart began thundering in her chest as she looked at the clock 1:28 p.m. “It’s too early, it can’t be him. He said 3:00” she thought. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her, almost unwilling, afraid to be disappointed that it was another car, but she knew. She would recognize the sound of his car anywhere. The screen door opened with a squeak as she stepped on the porch as Dean drove up the driveway. She shoved her hands in her front pockets to appear calm, but she could not wipe the huge grin off her face nor the heat burning her cheeks.

Dean turned off Baby and sat there for a moment, squeezing the steering wheel, flexing his jaw as he tried to get his bearings together. He knew what had to be done, he couldn’t draw it out. “Just cut to the chase, short and sweet. Get it over and done with and let her live in peace,” he told himself, until he glanced out the window and saw her on the porch.

The ice that he tried to form around his heart cracked wide as he looked at her beautiful, smiling face. Never in his life could he recall someone so thrilled to see him. She was pure sunshine that spread light through him as he looked at her. Pulling the metal handle, he got out of the car, slamming the heavy door behind him. Her hands were in her pockets, but she was so happy she was almost vibrating. As he walked towards her, all he could hear was Sam’s voice yelling in his head, “leave your bullshit baggage here! You have earned the right to be happy!”

Each step that he took melted the ice a little more, stopping in the grass, he matched her smile and opened his arms. She was off the porch running to him. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist as he locked her in his embrace. She buried her face in his neck as he nuzzled her hair, breathing her in.

“You know,” she whispered, smiling into his neck, “when I thought about today, I always imagined I would have been much cooler.”

Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against her temple, “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.” The truth is, had she been calm, cool, and collected, Dean would not have questioned his stupidity until he was headed back to the bunker. By that time, it would have been too late, and he would have had to live with his decision no matter what the ache in his chest told him.

Setting her on her feet, bending, he pressed a firm kiss on her lips, lingering as the last bits of ice melted around his heart. He wanted to tell her what he had driven up here to do; he just couldn’t yet. What if he scared her? What if she stopped looking at him with unconditional acceptance? After everything he had shared with her, the killings, the monsters, and the Mark of Cain, she rolled with it all as if he was telling her how he changed the oil in Baby. She was interested and asked questions but never judged him. Telling her most of his secrets on the couch was never what he meant to do, but she pulled it out without even trying. What if telling her he was going to look at him differently? He couldn’t handle that, his chest hurt to even think that. What if it broke what has been so carefully built. What if it broke her? He couldn’t do that. The thought that he was actually going to come up here and tell her it was over made him feel lightheaded.

Pulling back, she took his hand in hers with a smile. “I hope you’re hungry tonight. I made steak, twice baked potato, corn on the cob and...” she drawled, wiggling her eyebrows, “pecan pie.”

“Wow,” he chuckled “you didn’t have to do all of that.”

She lifted one shoulder, slightly embarrassed, “I wanted to.”

Squeezing her hand, he murmured, “thank you.”

Smiling bright at him, she opened the screen door, Y/N entering and pulling Dean with her. The house smelled like pie. He didn’t realize how much he missed being with her in her space until he walked in the door. The smell, the feeling of hominess solidified his decision to listen to Sam’s advice. Maybe his little brother knew something, after all.

Dean grabbed two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator, walking out on the back deck. Just being close to her, he could feel a weight lifting off him as he comfortably settled back into their little routine. He would always twist off the bottle top for her and hand her the beer. Even if she brought the beers out, she gave them both to him. When both bottles were open, they would clink the bottlenecks together before their first drink. It was the little things like this that made him ridiculously happy.

Sitting on the deck, they shared different things from the week, there were no awkward moments or pause in the conversation. It just flowed as it did on the couch. Dean tried to keep it light, telling funny stories about Sam as Y/N’s laughter rang out, filling him with a warmth he never knew he needed., She would reach out and touch him, brushing her fingers against his knee or grasping his arm when she was making a point. He looked forward to each touch, desire shuttering through him every time. As the afternoon slid into the evening, Dean would graze her upper arm with a smile, just to see her shiver. He felt powerful that it was his touch doing that to her.

Time flew by as the cold beers went down smoothly. Soon it was time to light the grill and cook up the steaks as she put together the side dishes. They decided to eat at the pub table on the deck, lighting the lanterns as the sun began to set and soft music played through the hidden speakers. Y/N watched Dean eat dinner as she moved the food around her plate. She watched him as they talked through dinner, either he wasn’t nervous or could chew through anything. She was hungry but only took a few bites here and there. The later it got, she began to get keyed up. She felt like she knew how the evening would end; however, her insecurities made her start to question everything. After dinner, they loaded the dishwasher and made coffee for both of them. It was very domestic, like all the pieces were snapping into place. Dean sat down his mug as the crisp sound of an acoustic guitar wafted through the sound system. “Give Me One Reason” by Tracy Chapman. The notes carried into the darkness as the deck was illuminated by the hanging lanterns.

Reaching out his hand he beckoned to Y/N, “dance with me.”

With a shy smile, she accepted his hand as he led her to the middle of the deck and took her in his arms. Her heart began to double-time in her chest as she looked into Dean’s eyes and saw the heat reflected back down on her. He pulled her close as they moved through the song and she could not help but to be struck by the lyrics.

Give me one reason to stay here And I'll turn right back around Give me one reason to stay here And I'll turn right back around Said I don't want leave you lonely You got to make me change my mind

Ducking his head to brush his lips to hers, the sizzle that has built between them all night, ignites. He wants this woman more than he has ever wanted anyone in his life. In a rush of uncontrollable desire, Dean cups Y/N’s face and pulls her to him, crashing his lips greedily to hers. The first touch of his mouth on hers and she threw her arms around him, pressing her body against his. The intense desire exploded between them; the compelling need to claim her, lick her, have her, drove him to the brink of insanity. He opened her lips with his, his tongue sliding into her mouth, bringing out a throaty moan that almost pushed him over the edge. He glided his hand down her back, cupping one of her round cheeks with his palm as he roughly pulled her against his erection; she gasped with pleasure as she began to grind herself onto him, her own arousal dictating her actions.

Picking her up, she wrapped her legs around him as he walked them into the house, down the hall into the bedroom, their mouths only moving apart to gasp for air before devouring each other once more. The dance of their tongues did nothing to quench her thirst for him since they had initially started, and she found herself rubbing against him in an attempt to ease her aching core. Setting her down on her feet in front of the bed, she looked up to see Dean’s eyes had changed to a dark smoldering green; the lust reflected back to her, making her tremble with yearning.

“I need you so much,” he rasped.

“God, me too,” she whimpered.

A smile spread across his face as he hooked his index finger along the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down her tan legs to her ankles. On his knees in front of her, he placed a soft kiss on her belly button, his tongue flicking her hoop piercing.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs as her skin erupts in goosebumps, a shiver of excitement moving up her spine as she runs her hands through his soft brown hair.

Gently pushing her back on the bed, he pulled her to the edge, his mouth mere inches from her slick heat. Moving his face slightly, he brushed the inside of her thigh with his scruff, pulling a moan from her lips. She could feel his warm breath against her clit and began to squirm.

“Please Dean,” she begged. He lay his muscled forearm across her hips, pinning her to the bed.

“Shh,” he whispered as his eyes met hers, his intense look scorching her skin. “I want to look at you, I’ve done nothing but think about you like this for weeks, just want to enjoy the view for a moment.”

She let her head fall back on the mattress, laying her arm across her closed eyes, her body buzzing as it pleaded for relief. Every second that ticked by, the intensity coiled in her belly, convincing her that she will burst into flames any second. She jerked as she felt his flattened tongue lick upwards along her damp slit, teasing her. His lips stopped at her clit, humming in satisfaction.

“Jesus, Dean,” she moaned, grasping the sheets on either side of her, “I can’t do this, it’s too much,” she cried with frustration.

Chucking, he licked her again before swirling his tongue around her sweet spot. A sound ripped from her throat that was a mix between a whine and a curse. “That’s it, Y/N,” he growls against herm “let go, I want to feel you cum.”

“No, I want to feel you inside me.” Her arms stretched to reach him, but he leaned back, just out of reach.

“You will,” he promises “but I need this first.” His tongue delved into her wet sweetness as he buried two fingers inside her, coaxing her to climax. She felt the white-hot heat building inside her as he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking one last time, hurdling her over the edge while crying out his name. Dean was relentless, lapping up everything Y/N had given him before he glanced up at her writhing form, his chin glistening in the dim light. It was a sight that made Y/N swallow hard, the man between her legs had given her an orgasm in less than a few minutes so her mind was reeling with else he had in store for her.

“I need you, Dean.” Those four words that bled from her lips sent Dean into a frenzy.

In haste, he removed his boots, socks, jeans, and boxers before he climbed up the mattress, pulling Y/N along with him. Situated in the middle of the bed, he settled between her legs, his hard length nudging at her. Resting his forearms on either side of her head, he brushed his lips over hers as she moved her hands to entwine her fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. Her legs then wrapped around his waist, urging him to enter her but he held back, his body taut with the effort.

“Protection?” he asks softly. “IUD,” she answered breathlessly, desperate for him to fill her. “Oh god.””

“It’s Dean” he husked playfully, his voice deep and gruff.

Kissing down her neck; cupping her breast in his hand, he rolled her taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, a hiss of pleasure rushing from her lips as he took her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the bud before nipping it gently with his teeth. He moved to the other breast giving it equal treatment. Steadily he slowly made his way back up her body, peppering her skin with kisses as he reached her mouth, claiming her lips again in a searing kiss as he lined himself up. He slowly pushes his impressive shaft inside of her as her body stretches around his girth, tightly squeezing and slowly accommodating him.

“Y/N,” he breathes between clenched teeth, “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long, you feel so damn good.”

She murmured her approval as her hands wrapped around him, her fingers digging into his rippling back muscles with each thrust. She had fantasized about this so often, but the reality eclipses anything her imagination had come up with. His mouth moved down her exposed neck as her hands blindly explored his body. Their dual moans mingled in the bedroom as their sweat-slicked bodies met. She gripped his shoulders as they both barreled towards release.

“Babe, I’m so close,” he grits out, his rhythm stuttering. She plants her feet on the bed, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Dean!” she cries as another orgasm rips through her body. She comes undone, her insides clench and twist around him as she digs her fingers into his back as he feels her flutter around him. Groaning her name, he buries himself deep inside her, allowing euphoria to wash over him as he coated the inside of her walls.

Breathless, he nearly collapsed on top of her but managed to hold himself up on shaky arms as she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair with a smile. He leaned down to place a sweet kiss on her mouth before laying on his back next to her as they both tried to catch their breath. Turning his head, he saw her blissed-out face staring back at him with a sleepy smile playing on her lips. He gathered her still shaking body to him, wrapping his arms around her as she rested her head on his hard chest with a satisfied sigh. She snuggled into him as he reached down to pull the sheet over them both falling into an exhausted sleep. He was so glad he didn’t listen to his own thoughts and allowed himself to enjoy being with her. The woman that had turned his life upside down.

Chapter 8

Tags: @winchest09 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @superfanficnatural @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @anathewierdo @compresshischest09 @supernatural-bellawinchester @jensengirl83 @this-is-what-im-reduced-to @ellewritesfix05 @moron225 @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @unicornqu33n17 @swinchester27@ @deans-baby-momma @squirrelnotsam @clumsy-nerd104 @sarahbaker2010 @supernatural-love14 @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @angelhearts1012 @nothinbuttrouble2 @cookiechipdough @lady-pswrld @peachyafshawn @notan-applepielife

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sunflower-petals · 5 years ago

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Just some RaMbLiNg thoughts on Patreon, Sims, and *~-things

if y’all don’t wanna read the entire thing, here’s a short summary: thinkin ‘bout stoppin’ early access

why is below the cut (no big deal juss talkin and ramblin)

Hello to all of y’all who decided to brave all of my words.

So, I wrote a REALLY long ass post that will forever stay buried in my drafts because I let out a bunch of crap that no one wants to hear. So let’s get Patreon out of the way first since it’s everyone’s favorite thing!

I started early access at the beginning of the month, and I’m not a big fan. It’s stressing me out, and making all of this simblr stuff a lot less of a hobby and more of a job, which was not my intention. So, I’m thinking of stopping early access. I do want to apologize to my patrons. If y’all pledged to get my cc 2 weeks early, I am very sorry. I’ll make a dedicated post on patreon talking more about it.

I’ll still be making patreon exclusive posts like wips and polls. I just want my hobby back. And I can tell if it’s stressful after only a month (a month! how ridiculous am i?!?!) then if I go any longer, I’m just lying to myself!

Of course, it’ll be the same as before, without any early access. If y’all donate to me, you have my utmost appreciation. I may do a patreon early access gift once in a while, but I don’t want to schedule anything. I think that’s the biggest issue; planning this stuff! This is supposed to be fun, and here I am planning releases and things like it’s my job?? Nah. Maybe one day but today is not that day.

So, with that out of the way, I hope y’all are doing well. This last month has been a rollercoaster ride as far as mental health for me but I feel as though I’m finally getting back on track. I don’t talk about it much (i don’t think? ) but I have depression and social anxiety (which you’d think would be better with quarantine but nope) and boy this last month was a doozy!

ANYWAY! That’s pretty much what I wanted to tell y’all. uh, thanks?

#nonsims #thank y'all for putting up with my indecisive ass

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thelastspeecher · 8 years ago

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NaNoWriMo ‘17 Day 25 - Sibling’s Weekend

Day 01 Day 02 Day 03 Day 04 Day 05 Day 06 Day 07 Day 08 Day 09 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15 Day 16 Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20 Day 21 Day 22 Day 23 Day 24 Day 25 Day 26 Day 27 Day 28 Day 29 Day 30

Summary: Fiddleford visits his younger sister at West Coast Tech, for the school’s “Sibling’s Weekend”. It doesn’t end well. [West Coast Outcasts AU] Word count: 1997

Ford resolutely stared at his shoes as he walked back to his dorm, trying not to focus on the exam he had just taken.

I’m slipping. I got a B on an assignment last week. How did that happen? He huffed. Damn social sciences. Who even cares about sociology? I’m a physicist. I sure as hell don’t.

“Oh, howdy, Ford!” a voice chirped cheerfully. Ford looked up.

“Angie.”

“Got it in one,” Angie said with a wink. She bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Ford remarked, coming to a stop next to his friend. Angie beamed at him.

“Fidds is visitin’ fer Siblin’s Weekend! So ‘re Lute and Harper, but Harper drops by all the time.” Angie grinned sheepishly at Ford. “Sorry again ‘bout how Harper read ya the riot act. He’s overprotective. Most of my siblin’s are.”

“Your older brothers are visiting?” Ford asked. He set down his bag on the sidewalk. Angie nudged it onto the well-trimmed lawn with her foot. Ford looked askance at her.

“Sorry. But lots of folks ‘round here don’t watch where they’re goin’. Too busy stickin’ their noses in books. Yer usually one of ‘em, you understand.”

“I don’t want my bag to get stained,” Ford mumbled, picking his bag up again. Angie rolled her eyes.

“City slicker.”

“Farm girl.”

“Yup. Anyways, yep, three of my older brothers are visitin’. Not Basstian, though. He’s always busy.”

“Basstian is…” Ford started.

“The only one what didn’t inherit Pa’s nose. He’s a music teacher, and, apparently, very intimidatin’.” Angie shrugged. “I don’t see it.”

“He is your older brother.”

“True enough,” Angie said with a nod. She grabbed fistfuls of her skirt (She must not have had any labs today; she’s too klutzy to risk wearing anything nice during dissections.) eagerly. “Ooh! That’s Fidds’ car, pullin’ into the lot right now!” Ford looked over at the parking lot. Fiddleford McGucket was getting out of a beat-up, rusted brown truck. Ford’s heartrate picked up.

Ah, yes. My one friend’s attractive, intelligent older brother.

“So, um, last year, fer Siblin’s Weekend, yer twin brother visited,” Angie said, clearly feigning her casual tone. “Is he goin’ to come again this year?”

“Unless he got banned from flying or lost his plane ticket, yes, he should be here,” Ford said. Angie grinned.

“Good, good.”

“Why are you excited about that?” “Oh! Uh, no reason,” Angie squeaked. She ducked her head, but was too slow to hide the slight flush that was spreading across her cheeks. Ford furrowed his brow.

Odd…

“I mean, ‘cept fer how, it’ll be good fer ya to socialize with someone who isn’t me,” Angie fumbled. “Ya need to make some more friends.”

“I’m fine with just the one,” Ford said with a shrug.

“Aw.”

“It’s how I’ve spent most of my life, after all.”

“Way to go, ya turned that cute moment into a sad one,” Angie said, shaking her head at him. She looked away from Ford to beam broadly at her approaching older brother. “Fidds!”

“Howdy there, lil Miss Banjey,” Fiddleford said, walking up to his younger sister and hugging her tightly.

“Fidds.”

“Oh, right, yer Angie, not Banjey.” Fiddleford looked at Ford. “She thinks she’s too good fer the fam’ly names.” Angie elbowed Fiddleford in the stomach. “Oof! Good to see you, too, sis.” Fiddleford smiled politely at Ford. “Good to see you, as well, of course. Stanford, right?”

“Yes.”

“If I recall correctly, you have yourself a twin brother?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice. Like Angie. Is he goin’ to visit?”

“Stan will be visiting, yes. He should get here in a few hours.” Fiddleford’s offhand remark clicked in Ford’s mind. “Angie, did Fiddleford just say you have a twin brother?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I do. Lute. He’s visitin’.”

“I thought he was your older brother.”

“By three minutes,” Angie said. She unzipped Fiddleford’s bag and began to rummage around in it.

“You told me none of your siblings were multiple births!”

“I didn’t want ya to feel less special, since I’m a twin, too,” Angie said cajolingly. She took a hardcover book titled Hamboning and Computer Coding out of Fiddleford’s bag. “Fidds, where did ya find this?”

“The library.”

“Angie, you-” Ford stammered.

“And anyways, ya were ramblin’ ‘bout yer fam’ly fer the first time since I’d met ya, and I thought if I corrected ya, you’d clam up again,” Angie mumbled, flipping through Fiddleford’s book.

“Angie!” Fiddleford scolded. “Ya don’t lie to get folks to tell things ‘bout themselves.”

“It was just a lil fib.”

“But- but I’ve seen pictures of Lute. He looks much older than you,” Ford said desperately.

“It’s just ‘cause he’s taller,” Angie said with a shrug. She took another book out of Fiddleford’s bag. “Hey, this is the same textbook my Entomology class uses!”

“I was lookin’ fer tips on handlin’ cockroaches,” Fiddleford said, snatching the book out of Angie’s hand. “The dorm rooms at Backupsmore are even more infested than I thought they’d be.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Ford said. He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m only now finding out you have a twin brother. How long have we known each other?”

“Lil over a year,” Angie said. She looked at Fiddleford. “Fidds, do I see yer banjo in here?”

“Yes, ya do.”

“Why’d ya bring yer banjo?”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause ya like to play songs at night, and we’ve got quiet hours in the dorms here.”

“I’ll play outside of the dorm.”

“Lord, someone’s goin’ to think yer serenadin’ ‘em,” Angie mumbled, zipping Fiddleford’s bag up again.

“The convention is to use a guitar,” Ford pointed out.

“Ford, you’ve known me fer a year. Does anything ‘bout me strike ya as ‘conventional’?” Angie asked. Ford looked Angie up and down. She raised an eyebrow. “Ya have to get a good look at me to come up with an answer?”

“It helps. And, no, you are very unconventional.”

“Exactly. I get it from my folks. So, of course my older brother wouldn’t serenade with a guitar.”

“I’m not sure how I feel ‘bout this conversation,” Fiddleford remarked. Angie laughed. “Mind escortin’ me upstairs, so’s I can drop off my stuff?”

“You got it,” Angie said. She waved at Ford as she walked away. “See ya later, Stanford!”

-----

Ford was woken up by a loud crash.

“Whazzat? Who’s there?” Stan slurred, falling off the other bed in Ford’s room. Ford again thanked whatever omnipotent deity that controlled room assignments for his lack of a roommate. “I’ll pay you back!”

“Stanley, you’re still half-asleep,” Ford chided. He turned on his bedside lamp. Stan blinked in the light.

“Ugh, not anymore. Why is your lamp brighter than the sun?” Stan mumbled. Ford didn’t respond.

Crash!

“What on Earth is going on?” Ford muttered, getting out of bed. He pulled up the window blinds and gaped at what he saw on the dorm’s front lawn. “Holy Moses!”

“What is it?” Stan joined Ford by the window. “What the fuck?” The twins watched silently as one of the three giant ants picked up a car in the parking lot and crushed it in its mandibles. “Sixer, what the hell is with your school?”

“I assure you, this is far outside the range of normal. I’ve never seen a giant ant here before.” Rapid footsteps ran down the hall, past Ford’s door.

“Son of a-” someone shouted.

“That sounded like Fiddlenerd,” Stan said.

“Fiddleford. And yes, it did.” Ford walked over to the door and opened it, sticking his head out curiously. He was immediately greeted by the sight of other people on his floor doing the exact same thing. Everyone except for Fiddleford and Angie, who were standing at the end of the hall, in front of the large window. Fiddleford was covered head to toe by his pajamas, but Angie was wearing her usual nightly attire of a thin T-shirt and athletic shorts. Ford could see her shivering. He took a hesitant step into the hallway. The building was wracked with a loud shudder, prompting everyone else on the floor to abruptly close their doors. “Fiddleford? Angie?” Ford said cautiously. The McGucket siblings didn’t respond; they appeared to be in an intense conversation. Ford walked towards them.

“How’d they get so big?” Fiddleford whispered. Angie put her hands on her hips.

“Fiddleford!”

“I swear, these buggers were not this big when I got here!”

“How many times do I have to tell ya, don’t bring yer experimental machinery to my school! West Coast Tech ain’t as used to disasters as Backupsmore. We don’t have a protocol fer giant mechanical ants in the parkin’ lot!”

“Neither does Backupsmore.”

“Well, Backupsmore has one fer giant mechanical cockroaches in the parkin’ lot, and it’s basically the same thing.”

“What’s going on?” Ford asked. Angie and Fiddleford spun around.

“Howdy, Ford,” Angie said weakly. “Just, uh, checkin’ out these robots here.”

“Fiddleford, did Angie say that these robots are yours?”

“Yes, they are, but I promise, they were normal ant-sized. I don’t know how they got so big!”

“People develop all kinds of experimental work in their dorm rooms, despite the administration insisting they shouldn’t,” Ford said. “Maybe a few of your regular-sized ants snuck out of your bag and into the path of an enlarging ray of sorts?”

“Enlargin’ ray,” Angie mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why do I feel like I live in a comic book?”

“Hey, Ford, one of the ants just tore off the roof of a frat house!” Stan shouted, running over to Ford. “The frat guys are still drunk, and they keep mooning the ant! It’s amazing!”

“Glad you’re enjoying wanton destruction,” Ford said idly.

“Duh. Oh, hey Fiddlenerd. Angie.”

“Stan,” Fiddleford said with a polite nod.

“Hello to you, too, Stanley,” Angie said, avoiding eye contact. Stan frowned.

“How’d you get on this floor? I thought it was a guy floor.”

“This dorm buildin’ is co-ed,” Angie answered. She winced at a sickening crunch from outside. “Lordy, Fiddleford, ya better have some sort of kill switch!”

“Of course, of course. It’s in yer room.” Angie sighed and handed Fiddleford her room key. “I’ll go shut ‘em off right now.”

“Go!” Angie snapped. She looked at Stan and Ford apologetically. “Sorry. He’s eccentric.”

“He builds robots, huh?” Stan asked. Ford noticed Stan’s eyes dipping south.

“Stanley!” Ford hissed, elbowing Stan. Angie turned bright red and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Rude!” she snarled.

“Can you blame me?” Stan asked, holding his hands up.

“Yes!” Angie and Ford said together.

“What’s more, her overprotective older brothers can blame you,” Ford said. Stan scratched the back of his head. “You should apologize.”

“Sorry for checking you out,” Stan mumbled. Angie flushed crimson again.

“Well, it ain’t all right, but since ya apologized, I won’t tell Fidds ‘n Harper ‘n Lute.” She cleared her throat. “And yes, Fidds builds robots.”

“Shit, no wonder you have a crush on him,” Stan said, punching Ford playfully. “He’s nerdy, he builds killer robots, he serenades people with the banjo...he’s just your type!”

“What makes you think I would enjoy a serenade with a banjo?” Ford asked.

“‘Cause Fiddlenerd plays it.”

“Ooh, Ford, you’ve got a crush on Fidds?” Angie whispered. Ford looked away. Angie cackled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem! I understand the desire fer keepin’ crushes under wraps.” Angie nudged Ford. “‘Specially if yer crush is yer friend’s older brother.” The crashes from outside suddenly stopped. “Oh, thank the Lord, Fidds turned ‘em off. Now I got to figure out what we’ll do with ‘em. Have a good rest of the night, you two!” She walked away.

“Damn, I’ve gotta get in a co-ed dorm,” Stan muttered.

“You’ll have to get into a college, first.”

“I have my ways,” Stan said dismissively, setting off down the hallway. Ford followed him.

“You are not staying with me year-round.”

“That’s what you think.”

#putting this one under a readmore bc it got looooong #I did not expect it to get this long #but it was fun to write and when I write things that are fun #I don't shut up #West Coast Outcasts AU #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Angie McGucket #ficlet #NaFicWriMo #my writing #speecher speaks

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huffmaster · 5 years ago

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FLICKIN’ FOOTBALLS

the beat

youtube

Runnin’ up the wall, goin’ through the floor, sittin’ on the ceilin’

Thinkin’ the sky’s about to fall, christmas lights still on

Yule tide log, fannin’ the fire of confusion for us all

Stay inside just call, pick up N just go, visit gramps through the glass

No hugs just shrugs, elbows touch instead of hands

Deadlocked on a plan, while the hands, on the clock spin

Round N round N round, makin’ Life decisions, do I shop or do I not

Do I go to work today, am I gonna get my rent paid

No easy way to say, I’m jugglin’ it all on my brain

Gettin’ close to insane, this don’t seem like no game

I’d play if I could, layin’ in my bed, unable to sleep

Just tryin’ to take a nap, can’t hardly eat, feets

Gettin’ cold not knowin’ what to do, talk to who I can

Let um know here I am, flickin’ paper footballs at the wall

Writin’ stupid songs, wantin’ to be nearer to ya’ll

Sayin’ stupid things, lookin’ for the play, laughin’ all the way

It’s touch and go, sanity a little hazy, blurry

Humor is like a merry goes, dreamin’ of livin’ life

Livin’ the make believe, shoutin’ “hello!” can you hear me

Doin’ the worm down the road, no one notices me

Is this Bizarro World, where up is down, social is

Anti, and I’m still pennnin’ to pad - man

Here I am leapin’ tall buildin’s, like I wear a suit

And a tie, but underneath is blue, draped in a cape

Feelin’ the great . - . ness, of speedin’ bullets unable

To catch my mind in Time, then I wake up again

Still playin’ checkers with myself, & guess what I’m winnin’

But you knew that, the streets emptyin’ with a quickness

We’re in a war, of the bore - dom, what the fuck we do now

Is this the end of Cable Guy, people startin’ readin’, paintin’

Learin’ cursive, I guess anything to keep the web, of anxiety

Away 6 feet may - be enough to stay, essential got a new

Meanin’, 600 dollars do too, like due to, in months time

You’ll be due 2, and a straight line is far off

Telescope says, eat more fortune cookies, stay out your head

Your Ramblin’ Rabbit, play go to bed, or words with friends

Better yet combine them, and just say we fucked the game up

What the hell was I doin’, oh yeah

Jump

King me

I win

Chorus

All right hand wash break, put your masks down

I want you all to see the magic of a sanitize drop

Swish it round, warm your hands up, gouge that price up

Wal-mart, menards, Hero’s in our backyards, nurses, doctors

Grocery store workers, gas station clerks, etcetera stand up

While the rest file for, unemployment, what a terrible mess

What a terriblbe mess, what a terrible mess we’re in

Watchin’ the news has my mind racin’, facin’ the fight from afar

Wonderin’ when it’s gonna be outside my door, is my temperature

Risin’, are my friends coughin’, how many are dyin’

In 24 hours cases are jumpin’, in my place bouncin’, dancin’

Learnin’ how to Dougie, flossin’ then the carlton, Soul Train

Linin’, lookin’ for the shinin’, foldin’ paper triangles to make

Balls aimin’ up the walls, goofin’ like a mememade man

Cloaked in a silk like clothe called happenstance, makin’ fish fried

Shipments, glad I’m out of my apartment, smellin’ like coleslaw

Chorus

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xseedgames · 8 years ago

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Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns Localization Blog #4

Howdy, everybody! For the past week, we’ve been posting self-introductions written by the bachelorettes in Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns on the game’s Facebook page. We’ve collected them all into a blog post.

We also have a brand new trailer introducing these lovely ladies.

youtube

Lisette

Howdy! You must be new around here. Call me Lisette! I’m pleased to meetcha.

I run the flower shop in Westown. I took it over from my parents a few years ago after gettin’ a degree in horticulture in the city. I just love it here in town; everyone is so sweet and helpful. Carrie and Miranda are like big sisters, and Wayne and Ford are a hoot.

What kinda things do I like? Gosh... Well, I like flowers. Duh, right? Nothing makes me happier than makin’ an original bouquet for a customer.

An’ what’s more, fresh flowers don’t just brighten up a room, they have special meanings. Even the same type of flower can have different meanings dependin’ on what shade it takes, so I’m always careful about how I compose a bouquet. Wouldn’t want someone else fluent in flowers gettin’ the wrong idea from a present, you know? The language of flowers even covers fruits and vegetables. For example, the apple flower represents…

Oh, gosh! I’m sorry for ramblin’ on like that.

I also love reading. What kind of books? Umm… I definitely like books that adults should be reading! Not storybooks or anything childish!

My dislikes? Well… I’m perfectly fine with most bugs since I work with plants all day, but there’s somethin’ about snails. The same kinda goes for food too—I can’t stomach anythin’ slimy.

Anyway, come by my shop sometime if you need flower seeds. Don’t be a stranger!

Kasumi

Greetings. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Kasumi.

…

Excuse me. I am not much for “small talk.”

Introduce myself? Very well.

I teach basic learning, such as reading and writing, to children at a nearby schoolhouse. However, my place of birth is far from Tsuyukusa. My father is a scholar, and I received a classical education from a governess. This included ancient literature and poetry—of which I am fond—as well as painting and martial arts.

I am not…accustomed to holding conversations with the opposite sex. I much prefer female company or even solitude, and I typically spend my time off working on my calligraphy or practicing with the naginata and the bow. These activities encourage reflection, mindfulness, and self-discipline. Talking with men encourages nothing of the sort.

I do not much care for sweets and will usually pass any I receive along to Komari or Yuzuki, who are more than happy to oblige me by receiving them. Other than desserts, I enjoy many of Tsuyukusa’s traditional dishes. I rather enjoy living here, even though I am separated from my mother and father. It is a peaceful town full of friendly people.

Now, if you will excuse me, I must be going.

Komari

Hiya, nice to meetcha! The name’s Komari!

My dad and I run the teahouse in Tsuyukusa. We’re real proud of it! Dad works the counter and cooks all the food, an’ I take it out to the customers. My mom is off travelin’ the world, so it’s just the two of us holdin’ down the fort.

I like waitressin’, but Dad says I’m too casual with the customers. Sometimes I wish I could be more like Shizu, who runs the clothing counter at the wholesale store and is this totally refined lady. I’ve been thinkin’ I should ask her for lessons or somethin’. I got no time to go to finishin’ school.

Speakin’ of which, sometimes I get the feelin’ I spend TOO much time workin’, y’know? Ever since I was little, almost all my free time has been eaten up helpin' at the shop. I really, reeeally wanna find some kind of hobby that I can tinker around with. Nothin's jumped out at me yet though.

There aren't many things I hate. I'm not a fussy person. Almost wish I was, though. Then I could say I have "taste"! Haha! But I really like most Tsuyukusa dishes. Guess that comes from growin’ up in THE Tsuyukusa teahouse, huh?

Anyway, be sure to say hi when you stop by the teahouse, ‘kay? See ya!

Iluka

Komo mai! Welcome to Lulukoko’s famous seaside café, Carosello. We have lots of fruit drinks, chilled teas, and desserts that will help you beat the tropical heat.

So…what can I get for you today?

…

Well, are you a customer or not?

…

You’re just here to say hello?

*SIGH* Don’t make me waste all my customer service positive aura on you. You’re the new face, right? I’m Iluka, the owner of this café. See the girl in blue, the one who looks EXACTLY like me? That’s Siluka. We’re the famous and enchanting tw--

Siluka! Stop spacing out and take table 2’s order!

Like I was saying, we’re the famous and enchanting twin priestesses here in Lulukoko. We keep the village traditions as passed down by Gram. Oh, right. I’m talking about Ludus’ grandmother, Tototara. Come see us dance in front of the flames at the New Year’s Festival. We’re breathtaking! We also have special powers, so DON’T cross us or we’ll hex you, got it?

I make the drinks here, and tea is my specialty. Siluka does the heavy cooking, though. Not that I can’t cook! I can! She’s just more experienced.

The two of us grew up with Ludus. He can be a bit of a coconuts-for-brains, but I guess he’s handy to have around sometimes. He DID build us this café. He and Siluka are so quiet though. Sometimes when we’re all together I end up doing all the talking.

Here come a few more customers. If you’re not going to buy something, you’re just taking up space. Aloha!

Siluka

Zzz…

Zzzzzz…

Hmm? E kala mai. I must have dozed off.

Iluka’s always scolding me for napping on the job. Her eyes get big and her aura turns dark red and…oh, never mind. It’s nothing worth getting worked up over.

Oh, I’ve never seen your aura before. It’s very pretty. Are you new here?

I’m Siluka. My twin sister Iluka and I run the seaside café here in Lulukoko. We’re also the village priestesses. Iluka talks tough and likes to threaten people with curses, but please don’t take her too seriously. We ALMOST never have to jinx anybody.

Haha. That’s just a little joke. We do have special abilities, though, like predicting the weather and seeing auras.

Everything has an aura. Did you know that? Most people can’t see them, but they reflect the interconnectedness of all living things. Those who are connected to the natural world have the prettiest hues. So I can tell that you work with plants and animals just by the color you glow.

I find nature very...soothing, and my favorite things are the simple bounties of the earth and sun. I love all types of fruit. I am also interested in medicinal herbs. Ludus’ grandmother Tototara has passed down recipes for traditional medicines to me. They’re my greatest pride and a treasured secret...

…

Hmm? Oh, I was just looking at that sunny spot and thought I’d take a short rest. Goodbye for now.

Zzz...

#XSEED #XSEED Games #MARVELOUS #XSEED Blog #STORY OF SEASONS #TRIO OF TOWNS #Bachelorettes #LONG POST

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americanahighways · 6 years ago

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As I loaded up and headed east towards Okemah, and day two of the Woody Guthrie Folk Festival, I couldn’t help but speculate. Could it top the previous day? I mean after all, Thursday’s performances had been exemplary, and I mean each and every single one. How rare is that? I mean, usually in a festival setting you’re bound to get a clunker; a less than enjoyable set for whatever reason. That simply hadn’t happened, and I almost felt like I was struggling with this fact. I decided to chalk it up to a euphoric reaction. The simple presence of music, as well as the welcoming and engaging atmosphere had most certainly played tricks on me somehow. Surely today would expose a shortcoming or a weakness. I readied myself somewhat unconvincingly.

After all, Friday’s lineup was packed with artists that I really, really like, several of whom I’ve seen before, or even reviewed albums or live shows for here on Americana Highways: REVIEW: Tim Easton’s “Exposition” is Vibrant Personal Testimony with Indefinable texture. Additionally, there were several artists that I had been really wanting to see, but for one reason or another hadn’t managed to up to this point. Certainly there would would be a disappointment or two today. As I pulled into downtown Okemah just before 1pm, I immediately noticed an increase in pedestrian traffic. Already, things were well under way, and I immediately regretted not arriving sooner.

Having meticulously studied the festival schedule, I had ensured my arrival would be more than adequate to ensure I didn’t miss Tim Easton’s 2pm set at the Crystal. This proved to be one of the best decisions I made the whole weekend, as it lead to one of my favorite musical discoveries in quite some time. As I made my way into the Crystal, Radoslav Lorković was just starting his set. Over the course of the next 45 minutes or so, Rad (as I came to learn he is affectionately called), along with his accordion and piano performed his unique blend of classical, jazz, country, blues and folk, all accentuated by his Croatian heritage. Throughout the remainder of the festival, Lorković would be in high demand, and would guest on set after set.

Still somewhat mesmerized by Lorković’s set, I settled in for Tim Easton’s. I had recently been given a download of Tim’s new album “Exposition” to review for Americana Highways here: REVIEW: Tim Easton’s “Exposition” is Vibrant Personal Testimony with Indefinable texture and was really excited to see those songs performed live. No disappointment here either. The songs live were even more vibrant and warmly presented than the recorded versions. The context that a song on the album had actually been recorded next door in the Okfuskee County Historical Center really brought things full circle. Already, my day was two for two. Next, as Annie Guthrie began preparing for her set, none other than proud papa Arlo Guthrie walked in from backstage and took a seat next to me at the front of the theatre for his daughter’s performance. It was perhaps the most surreal moment I’ve experienced over the course of several decades worth of concerts. I simply uttered a “Hi Arlo” as he settled in and gave me a friendly return hello and nod. Annie’s set was lighthearted and fun and already day two was looking as memorable as the first.

Next came my first true dilemma of the festival. Two artists I was really excited about seeing would be taking the stage at the same time in different venues. First, I headed over to the closer Bound For Glory tent to catch Nellie Clay. Nellie is an Oklahoma native, that has compiled an impressive catalog of songs as a “ramblin’ gal”. She and her guitar case have traveled some miles, and her songs made her one of my must-see sets. Nellie, who now lives in Okemah, seemed to be everywhere at once. If she actually wasn’t, she should have been an official fest ambassador. I saw and spoke with her at various venues and backstage areas as she showed support for countless artists. Nellie’s good people. Unfortunately, I was only able to take in about half her set, as I also really wanted to see fellow Oklahoman Ken Pomeroy a few blocks west at the Hen House. Despite her young age, Ken is quite an accomplished songwriter and performer and I was happy to finally catch one of her sets. Pomeroy won the first annual Jimmy LaFave Songwriting Contest, and for good reason, her songs are good. Here at the Hen House, she was joined by her band that featured Kyle Reid on guitar, her dad Skip on percussion and Johnny Carlton on bass. As much as I hated leaving Nellie’s set early, I was really glad to catch some of Ken’s songs as well. Pomroy’s set became one of my favorites of the whole fest.

Next, it was back over to the Bound For Glory Tent to catch yet another new favorite, Jared Tyler and band. I had already seen Tyler playing with Monica Taylor on day one, but I absolutely wasn’t prepared that he would also become one of my top three new discoveries of the festival. All three, discovered on the same day no less (Lorković , Pomroy and now Tyler). Joined by Seth lee Jones on guitar Tyler’s set was inspiring and the perfect warm up for one of my local favorites, Carter Sampson. Joined by her band, Luke Mullenix on bass, Kyle Reid on pedal steel, Jack Waters on Drums and Mike Satawake on guitar they tore through her latest album, “Lucky” with a “Queen of Oklahoma” encore. Easily another highlight.

Following Sampson’s set I headed over to a local restaurant for a quick bite before heading over to the Pastures of Plenty main stage for the headline performances. As I ate, I watched artists and coalition volunteers sharing meals and conversation as I processed the day so far. Seven performances on the day so far, and every one outstanding. Hard to believe, but 100% true. I made my way over to the main stage and caught the tale end of the “Songs of Audrey Auld” tribute featuring Nina Gerber, Pam Delgado and Jeri Jones. Auld, an Australian singer songwriter and festival mainstay passed away in 2015. These three ladies played a moving, yet fun set of her songs that culminated in the spreading of a few of Auld’s ashes on the Pastures of Plenty grounds. A really special moment for sure.

Next was one of my most anticipated sets of the weekend with John Paul White’s festival debut. Speaking with John before he took the stage, he joked with me wondering if any in the crowd even knew “who the hell he was”. If they didn’t they certainly did by the time he wrapped up a hypnotic and beautiful solo set. As I moved about photographing throughout his performance, over and over fans and other artists couldn’t stop commenting how wonderful White’s performance was. If White was truly concerned, he surely overcame those concerns with a wealth of new fans. His special rendition of Guthrie’s “Pastures of Plenty” proved to be yet another magical festival moment for me. Closing out Friday night’s performance’s were the one-two punch of Joel Rafael followed by Ellis Paul. Both men are Woody Fest Coalition Advisory Board members, staples of the festival, and add an immeasurable degree of sincerity with their songs. It was my first time seeing each songwriter live, but I certainly hope it won’t be the last. In particular, Raphael’s “Glory Bound” was truly wonderful, while Paul’s moving “God’s Promise” (joined by Terry Ware and Radoslav Lorković) certainly captured my attention.

So here at the close of day two, I pull onto westbound I-40 still somewhat in disbelief of all I’ve taken in so far. Tomorrow’s another day, and I can hardly wait. Day three’s schedule is another super one on paper and at this point I have no doubts that it won’t live up to its promise.

More information on Woody Fest can be viewed here: https://www.woodyfest.com/

Show Review: Woody Fest 2019, Day 2 @johnpaulwhite @woodyfest @cartersampson @kenpomeroy @folklite @folkslinger @rlorkovic @Tim_easton As I loaded up and headed east towards Okemah, and day two of the Woody Guthrie Folk Festival, I couldn't help but speculate.

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