#sarah eventually makes him another one so he has 2 of the same one but he insists on still sleeping eith the first one

[atomicami]

surprise visit

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: after your first encounter with abby, she’s all that’s on your mind. because of this, you decide to ditch work one day and go to her father’s contracting site to pay her a visit, only to find out that she feels the same way with you. (part 2 to quick fix)

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, office sex, oral & fingering (both receiving) squirting, thoughts of strap usage, cockblocking, reader and abby almost getting caught again, pet names instead of y/n, abby begging if you squint, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: no bc i was literally shocked over how quick fix blew up omg?? thank you guys so much! i had so many people request for a part 2 so here it is! i hope y’all enjoy it :)

To your luck, your dad didn’t suspect anything when he found out the TV got fixed.

You told him that you ended up calling the electrician instead. And while he did scold you on how the electricians here tend to overcharge their customers for their services, he eventually just let it slide.

Besides, it would have been better to tell him that rather than the truth. That the daughter of his work rival set foot in his house to fix the TV, only to soon put her hands on, or rather inside his precious daughter.

Movie night flew by slow for you that day, like painfully slow. Abby was all that ran through your mind that night. You pretty much spent that night sitting on the couch surrounded by your friends, in that same spot where Abby’s head was in between your legs just a few hours before. You’d keep turning your head back just to take a peek at her house across from you.

Eventually, you became so desperate for that night to be over that you decided to end things early and escorted your friends out of your house, only to soon get under your bedsheets to try to fix the ache that was forming in between your legs once again.

But you knew damn well that it could never compare to how Abby made you finish that day. She made you finish in a way that no one else could have.

Despite that, the two of you may have thought about the idea that this could have just been a one-time thing, but you were still tempted to see her. You didn’t want to go against your dad’s rules, again…but just like the last time, part of you was leaning towards doing so.

Besides, you got away with it the first time…who’s to say you might be able to do this for a second?

But you don’t see her right away. Despite how hard it may be for you, you make the effort to wait for the right time.

A week passes by since your first encounter with Abby, and that’s when you decide to go see her.

You’re on your shift at work, finishing up some customer calls before gathering your things to head out. Once you get to the door, you stop in your tracks for a brief moment. A variety of questions start to flood your mind:

Is it worth it to take the risk again? What could happen if you end up getting caught? Would Abby even want to see you again? Is she craving you the same way you’re craving her right now?

You quickly shook your thoughts out of your head and turned the doorknob, exiting the office trailer before closing the door behind you. However, you only make it down the first few steps before running into your father. He bumps into you while finishing a call, phone in one hand and some files in another.

Joel quickly hangs up the phone and peers his eyes down at the screen. “Hey kiddo, I was just lookin’ for ya so I could give you these—“ He cuts his sentence off once he looks up from his phone to see you standing in front of him, bag over your shoulder and car keys in your hand, ready to leave as if your shift was already over. He looks at you with a confused expression. “Where are ya headed? You’re not done for another few hours.”

You try your best to come up with an excuse on the spot. “Oh, I have to head out to run some errands…I uh, need to start buying ingredients for the bake sale next week.”

That was a full-on lie. You already bought everything the week before. And knowing Joel, he can typically sniff out a lie like a bloodhound. But you still hope that he’ll take the bait for it.

Your dad simply nods and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Alright sweetheart, well, whenever you can, I need ya to file these for me. No rush though.” He hands you the files before passing by you to head into the office. You let out a sigh of relief, only for that feeling to soon come to a halt when he calls out your name again.

You turn back around to face him. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could make that—that custard cake— what’s it called again…You made it last Thanksgiving at Uncle Tommy’s, remember?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You mean my flan?”

“Yes!” Your dad exclaims. “Make as many of those as you can. Wanna be able to beat Anderson in the bake sale this time.”

You pursed your lips together and nodded. “Alright, I’ll be sure to make those then,” you reply.

Your dad gives you a thumbs up in response before pulling out his phone to take another call and stepping back into the mobile office.

Another sigh of relief escapes from you. If it weren’t for your dad being so occupied with his clients, you definitely would have been caught a lot sooner. As much as you love and care for your dad, his obsession with trying to one-up Jerry at his job seriously drives you crazy.

Crazy to the point where you decide to break his rules and get with Jerry’s daughter, perhaps?

Once you approach the parking lot, you step into your car and start it up before pulling out your phone. The first thing you end up doing before anything else is shutting off your location. Aside from Abby being off limits, your father was never really the strict type. The only reason behind having a location set up on your phone was so he’d make sure you were safe whenever you’d be working late at the company or when you were out with friends.

But that’s not the case today, since you’re simply just ‘running errands’, as you so graciously told him before leaving.

Your finger hovers over the screen before tapping on the navigation app. You then type in the directions for Anderson Contracting Company.

Those are three words you definitely didn’t expect to be putting into your GPS.

Once the route guidance was set up, you shift your car into drive before slowly pulling out of the parking lot and exiting your dad’s contracting site.

Excluding the possibility of traffic, it usually takes about 15 minutes to get to Jerry’s contracting site. That is…if you’re taking the fastest route. But due to the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, you decided to delay yourself as much as you could to get there. You avoid the highway if possible, purposefully miss every exit, and even let every single driver pass you while on the road. You’ve lost count of how often the GPS has rerouted since you were just going around in circles.

Eventually, you quit stalling and follow the correct route to Jerry’s contracting site. That feeling of deja vu instantly hits you once you see those two familiar pickup trucks in the parking lot upon arrival. It meant that there’d be another 50/50 chance of either running into Abby…or her father.

But it’s not too late though. You’re still in the car. You haven’t left yet. There’s still a chance to back out of this now and leave as if you never showed up in the first place.

But then again…you’re tempted to go in and search for her. You truly couldn’t resist being away from her for so long. A week may seem like nothing for most people, but to you, it felt like a fucking eternity. Do you really think that Abby might feel the same way?

Fuck it. You do it anyway.

Once you’ve stepped out of your car and locked it, you start making your way over to the contracting site. Your chances of backing out progressively become slimmer with every step you take.

Before you know it, you’re standing at the site, front and center. Jerry’s site looks quite similar to your dad’s—pretty spacious, filled with loads of inventory, it even had the same trailer-like mobile office that stood its ground next to the parking lot with its company logo in big, bold lettering.

But then again, all of that pretty much looked the same to you. The only task on your mind right now was to search for that man’s best employee: his daughter.

You squint your eyes to get a better look at the workers on site right now. They all looked the same to you due to the far distance—a bunch of little figures all spread out in its ample environment. However, you do see Jerry standing among those figures, to which you’re relieved. He had the same height and build as Joel, but with lighter physical features instead of your father’s dark ones. At least you knew where he was situated right now.

But Abby? She was nowhere to be seen.

It didn’t make sense to you at first. Her truck was in the parking lot, and given her prominent figure, she’d be easily identifiable out of all of the workers that were scattered around the site.

Regret starts to pass through your body right now. You felt like you’d wasted your time coming here.

That is…until you feel a strong, familiar hand grab your arm from behind.

You freeze in your tracks and slowly turn your head around. Your prayers have been answered once again.

Abby keeps her grip on your arm and turns you around, her body shielding yours so her father wouldn’t spot you from the distance. She then leans into your ear. “Stay in front of me and keep walking forward,” she says sternly.

You nod and continue to walk in her direction. The two of you approach straight to the mobile office, and you notice that the door is wide open. Looks like that solves the mystery as to why you couldn’t find her in the first place.

Abby guides you up the steps and brings you inside the trailer. She makes sure to check her surroundings before entering inside and closing the door behind her, locking it shut.

“Are you seriously out of your mind?” She asks, turning around to face you. “It’s one thing to come to my house, but to come to where I work? And with my dad here? What if he saw you?”

You shook your head at her and put your hands up to quiet her down. “I know, I know…This is literally the last place I’m supposed to be at right now, but I need to talk to you.”

She let out a sigh and shook her head as she walked over to her side of the trailer where her desk was. “About what?” She asks, turning back around again to face you.

“It’s about last week, um…” you trail off for a second, briefly averting your gaze from her and nervously rubbing the back of your neck. “When you came over to fix my outlet…”

Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could feel the smirk that was growing on her face. Abby leans back against the corner of her desk and crosses her arms. “Oh yeah? Which outlet are we talking about, exactly?”

Looking back at her now, you scoff at her and lightly shove her shoulder. “Come on, you know exactly what I mean…” You let out a sigh before continuing. “Look, I don’t know about you but…it’s been on my mind this past week. And I need you to do it again. Please.”

Abby raised an eyebrow at your statement. “Make you do what now?”

Jesus. She’s really trying to get the words out of your mouth, isn’t she?

Another sigh leaves from your lips. Your eyes divert back to the ground again. “I…I need you to make me finish like that again.” You mutter out to her. “No one has ever been able to make me feel that good…besides you.”

As hard as you were trying right now, the desperation in your voice was still so obvious to hear. You didn’t want to be desperate about it, but you couldn’t help it.

However, Abby was quite flattered to hear that, and even a little relieved. Despite her previous experiences with women, she wanted to be able to please you the most. It was just hard for her to ever do so due to both of your dads’ rules.

She looks out the window for a moment. Her dad appeared to be miles away from the two of you, still barking orders at his employees over inventory. She then walks over to the back of her desk and moves some things around to make some space before motioning you to come over. “Come here. Sit on my desk.”

You oblige, walking over to the back of her desk. You give yourself a boost and sit on top of it. Looking down, you see her hands placed down on the desk, one on each of your sides. It’s almost as if she’s slowly entrapping you with her large frame.

You look back up at her to see her looking down at your lap, watching how your thighs are pressed together right now. “I don’t regret it, you know…” she starts, looking up at you. “Coming over. I don’t regret it at all. If anything, you’ve been on my mind just as much since then.” She then leans into the left side of your face and whispers this memorable statement in your ear:

“Even my tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Fuck..” You mutter under your breath, averting your gaze back down. Her words alone were already turning you on and making your arousal rush quickly to your core.

Her eyes were now meeting with yours when you looked back up at her. “Would you want to do it again?” You asked her. That same smirk shows back on her face as Abby shakes her head. She thought your question was ridiculous, even after hearing what she had just said to you. But on the contrary to last week, you were now the one seeking reassurance from her.

Without taking her eyes off of yours, she slightly parts your legs open with her knee and slides a hand underneath the knee-length pencil skirt you were wearing. Your breath hitched once you felt her touch, followed by your thighs tensing up a little. “Is this answering your question right now?” she asks, not stopping her movements.

You try to catch your breath as she holds eye contact with you, nodding slowly as her hand inches closer to your heat. Her actions come to a halt once her hand reaches your clothed cunt. It wasn’t until her fingertips brushed against the soft fabric that you broke eye contact with her to look down at your lap, even though her hand was hidden under your skirt.

Abby did the same, gently pressing her thumb down against the now damp piece of fabric that was separating her hand and your pussy. Her action causes you to jerk back a little. The ache in between your legs was making you sensitive. “You’re so wet for me already, fuck…” she mutters out, hooking her finger underneath your underwear and moving it to the side. You spread your legs out farther for her for better access, trying to hold back your whimpers when the cool air of the office’s AC tunnels under your skirt and hits your wet pussy.

This gives Abby the chance to start inserting one of her fingers inside you. The second her fingertips start passing through your tight entrance, you instantly feel alleviated. Despite the slightly uncomfortable feeling it can give you at first, there was something about Abby’s fingers that was just so…addicting. It’s almost as if you needed to have her touch inside of you all the time.

You can’t help but let out a whimper once you feel a second finger enter inside you not even a minute later. Abby leans in to kiss you, desperate to swallow the pretty sounds you’re making while her fingers were nestling in your pussy.

“God…” she begins to mutter in between kisses. “It’s only been a week…and you feel even tighter than when I first went down on you…” She briefly pulls away from your lips to kiss your neck.

Abby silently cursed at herself for not having her strap in her possession. If only she had known beforehand that you were going to sneak your way out of work to come see her, she would’ve brought it with her. As much as she loved having you come undone onto her fingers, there was truly nothing more she wanted to do right now than to fuck you senselessly on top of her desk.

Your hands grip the edge of her desk when she begins to slowly pump her fingers in and out of your pussy. More sounds continue to leave your lips, and you begin to involuntarily grind your hips against her hand as a desperate call for her to go faster, which she soon ends up doing.

“Fuck, Abby…” you whimper out to her. “Your fingers…feel so good…” You bring your gaze back down to your lap, watching the hidden movements of her hand under your skirt.

Secretly, it was kind of pissing both of you off that you still had that fucking skirt on. You’ve been trying to hold back the urge to strip yourself down. The pleasure that Abby’s giving you right now with just her two fingers was so good that having your skirt and underwear still on you was bothering you so much. At that moment you didn’t want anything touching you from the waist down.

Anything except for Abby’s fingers.

And it was even more frustrating on Abby’s part because although she could feel and even hear your needy pussy underneath your skirt right now, she couldn’t see what she was doing. She wanted to see her actions right now. She wanted to watch your pussy visibly contract against her thick fingers before coming undone on them.

That stupid skirt was by far the worst obstacle for the two of you right now. But regardless, it wasn’t going to stop Abby from trying to make you finish. You told her that you needed her to make you cum just like how she did when she first came over, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.

Your grip on her desk tightened when her fingers were now going at an uncontrollably fast pace. Your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your mouth slightly parted. A moan would escape from your mouth with every brush of her fingertips on your g spot. That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach forms as your cunt begins to pulse around her fingers, indicating that you were getting close.

Just like last time, your head starts to feel heavy once again. You try to tilt back down to meet with Abby’s gaze so you can let her know. “A-Abby…” you call out to her. “I—fuck—I’m getting close…”

She simply nods, not quitting her pace with her fingers. “I know you are, that needy cunt of yours won’t stop squeezing my fingers.” She looks back up at you. “Just ride it out for me like last time, make yourself cum on my—“

Then suddenly she cuts her words off. Her gaze starts to avert away from yours, and her fingers start to slow down.

She turns her head around to look out the window, leading you to do the same. The pleasure in your body soon starts to replace itself with panic when you see who’s approaching closer to the office.

Abby’s father.

She turns her head to face you and she can practically see the pleading in your eyes. You were already so close to the finish line. So close to finishing on her fingers and getting to that blissful feeling that you’ve been craving from her touch for the past week.

“Abby…” you whisper out to her. “Please…just let me finish…”

Although she felt like she could do it, and make a new record out of it, she just couldn’t take the risk.

Abby could feel her heartbeat racing as she heard her father’s footsteps get closer to the door. She looks over at you, her gaze flickering between your face and your lap, where her fingers remain inside of you.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered back and pulled her fingers out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss.

The rattling of the doorknob startles the two of you, followed by the sound of keys jingling. Abby instinctively grabs your hips, getting you off of her desk. “Get under my desk,” she commands, leading you to quickly crouch down onto the ground and tuck yourself into the leg area of her desk.

Abby sits back down in her chair and scooches in, scattering all of her blueprints, sketches, and files back on the center of her desk to make herself look busy.

Then the door clicks, right on time.

She looks over to her left and watches her father enter inside. Jerry’s eyes were fixed on his phone screen for a moment before looking up to see her. “Hey kid, I didn’t know you’d still be in here,” he says, walking over to her desk. “Why’d you lock the door?”

Abby immediately starts stammering on the spot, trying her best to figure out an excuse. “Oh, um…I think the self-lock was still on..”

He nods in response, looking at the door and back at her. “I see…Well, I have to head into town in a bit to check out a client’s property. They’re in need of their kitchen being remodeled and I’d like to get to them before Miller does. Do you think you can go outside and finish up with inventory while I’m out?”

Abby nods slowly in response. “Yeah dad, of course, I can do that for you.”

The two of you figured that Jerry would leave after that…But he doesn’t. He continues to discuss work with her while you remain hidden under her desk.

About three minutes have gone by, but to you, it feels more like three hours. Despite the amount of legroom that Abby’s desk had, you still felt so cramped up. All that was there to see right now were three dark walls and the sight of Abby from the waist down. Wait a minute…

That’s when an idea popped into your head. The way Abby was sitting, manspread in her chair, her cargo pants tightly hugging her thighs even though they’re meant to be loose, and that tool belt of hers…it sure seemed to provide some coverage down there, right?

You want to talk yourself out of it, you really do. This wasn’t the time or the place to be doing this right now. But five minutes have passed now and you truly have no idea when the hell Jerry is going to get out of there so the two of you could be alone. Might as well keep yourself occupied for the time being, right?

Without trying to make any noise underneath, you shift your position on the ground until you’re kneeling. While Abby now remains distracted by talking to her father, you slip your hands in under the large pouches that were attached to her tool belt. Once your hands find the button and zipper of her cargo pants, you attempt to undo them and get them off of her.

Abby’s eyes quickly flicker to her lap before looking back at her dad, who was now talking to her about another client that Joel took from him. She notices what you’re trying to do, she can see it without even having to take her tool belt off. She truly wishes more than anything right now that she could at least help you take her pants off for her.

“…so I'm going to see if I can be able to meet with them next week and see if I can convince them to do business with us instead of Joel. I was thinking that—” Jerry’s words soon get cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, leading him to pull it out of his pocket and answer it. “Hello? Yes, this is him…”

While Abby’s father speaks through the phone, he briefly looks away from her. This gave the perfect moment for her to discreetly lift her hips so you could get her cargo pants and boxers down. You open her legs, eyeing her pussy that was hidden underneath her tool belt. Without even thinking twice, you dive in between her legs, quickly latching your mouth onto her clit.

Oh God, now Abby really needed her dad to leave right now.

The chair starts to shake a little beneath you as Abby’s hands grip each side of the armrest, trying to hold back any sounds as you sucked on her clit. Now it was up to Abby to try and compose herself in front of her father because the second he’ll notice something unusual, both of you would be screwed.

Abby glances over to see her dad turned around, still complaining through the phone. Her breath continues to hitch while you keep sucking and licking at her clit. “God, your mouth feels so good…” she mutters out quietly to you, praying that her dad didn’t hear her. She soon hears her dad finishing up his phone call and sits back up before scooching forward, trying to hide as much of herself below the waist down as possible.

“Look, just give me ten minutes and I'll be there. I’ll show you the plans I have for your kitchen, and I can assure you it’ll be better than what Miller would have in mind.” Jerry soon says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone and turning back around to face his daughter.

“That was the client I was just about to go see today. They’re already considering doing business with Joel instead.” he crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief. “The nerve of this ignorant man…He’s seriously trying to do anything just to get more clients than me…” he lets out another sigh before continuing. “I'm gonna head out now to meet with them. Please make sure to finish up on inventory before you leave alright?”

Although it wasn’t like you had a choice at that moment, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on what Jerry was saying. You were definitely into Abby, but you couldn’t stand how Jerry talked about your father. As a result, you decided to do something just a little bold. While your mouth was fixated on playing with Abby’s clit, you insert two of your fingers into her pussy with no warning, causing her to jerk back at the sudden movement.

“Y-Yeah!” she exclaims before quickly closing her mouth shut, as well as her thighs. “Yeah, um…I-I’ll be sure to do that…” she says, her voice back at her normal volume.

Her father raised an eyebrow in suspicion but didn’t think anything of it. The only thing on his mind right now was getting to that client’s place before Joel does. “Alright then…I'll see you at home.”

Abby watches as her dad leaves the office and closes the door behind him. She turned her head around to the window to make sure he was officially out of view before letting out a sigh of relief. “Fuck…” she breathes out. She then pushes her chair back and quickly unbuckles her tool belt before tossing it to the ground, looking down to see the sight of you with your mouth and fingers both still attached to her cunt.

“You really are a fucking tease, aren't you?” she asks you. “Going down on me like that while my dad’s in the office because you can’t keep it in your pants…I didn’t take it that you’d be such a slut for me like that…”

With your fingers still inside of her, you briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to respond to her. “I seriously couldn't keep waiting any longer, Abby…” you plead out to her.

Abby slightly tilts her head to the side, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. “Did I tell you to stop doing that, though?” she asks.

You shake your head in response. “No, I—”

“Exactly. So get back to it, princess.”

You then feel her hand on the back of your head, bringing it back down into her pussy. Without taking your eyes off of hers, you seal your mouth back onto her clit while pumping your two fingers in and out of her cunt, watching her every move to the pleasure that you were giving her.

“Fuck, oh God…” she moans out, pushing your head farther in. “Fuck, just like that…p-put that mouth of yours to good use…”

You moan into her pussy as a response, causing her body to slightly shiver. Your fingers speed up their pace inside her, desperately trying to get her to break apart. A string of breathy moans continues to escape from Abby’s mouth while your head stays nudged in between her legs.

You can’t help but hear those sounds that Abby was making as your tongue kept lapping up her juices. It was making you even wetter than before. You wanted to reach down and touch yourself so fucking bad, but you couldn’t. Not only was it because Abby would immediately suspect that you were doing that to yourself, but you were getting so fucking drunk from her pussy that you couldn’t even move any other part of your body except for the parts that were moving inside her right now.

“Oh fuck, I think I’m getting close…” she moans out to you, tightening the grip on her armrest. “Please…please don’t stop…”

The way Abby had begged you to keep going was driving you insane. Now you were more motivated than ever to make her finish. Your fingers were cramping, your jaw was getting sore, and your face was so buried in her pussy that you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

But you still refused to quit.

You keep driving her up to her climax until she finally comes undone with a broken moan, finishing all over your mouth and fingers. Once she’s finished on you, you lick and suck her release until she’s completely clean before taking your mouth and fingers out of her.

Abby looks back down and is amazed at the sight of you right now. Your pupils were completely blown out due to how drunk you’d gotten from her pussy, and her release was smeared all over your face. “Well, it looks like I’m not the only one who likes to get all pussydrunk…” she tells you, smirking once again.

You meet your gaze with hers and smirk back at her. “I had to return the favor for you somehow…” you reply, wiping her release off of your chin with the back of your hand. “Consider it a thank you for fixing my outlet last week.”

Abby returns your response with a smile. However, her eyes soon flicker over to your lap, where you were clenching your thighs together on the ground. Now she remembered that she needed to finish what she started.

She leans over to put her boxers and cargo pants back on before standing up completely. “Come on, get back up on my desk.”

With your legs still together, you slowly get up from the ground and stand up next to her. After almost getting caught by Abby’s dad and being under her desk for what felt like fucking forever, chances are that the heat pooling between your legs right now is going to be a lot more for Abby to work with this time.

You watched as she made space on her desk for you again by pushing her things around. Some of her blueprints and sketches fell to the ground as a result, but she could honestly care less about that. Her hands then move to your waist, picking you up in an effortless manner and placing you back onto her desk before leaning in and locking her lips with yours, tasting a bit of herself in the process.

Your hands grab at her shirt and pull her closer to you, while Abby’s hands grab the hem of your skirt and pulls it down your legs, followed by your underwear right after. Her lips then pull themselves away from yours so she can look down at your pussy. “Oh my God….” she breathes out to you, her face inches from yours. The arousal in between your legs had spread so much that even your inner thighs were shining with your slick.

“You’ve been trying to hide this mess while you were under my desk, weren’t you?” she asks, to which you nod in response.

The sight of your wet pussy was so fucking much for Abby right now that she needed to step back and sit back down. You watched as she sat back in her chair and pulled onto the side lever, letting it sink down so her face was parallel to your pussy.

Without even thinking twice, she dives her head in between your legs. As much as Abby had wanted to challenge herself and use her fingers like last time, she still had that desire to taste you, because she truly is one for craving the way your arousal would linger on her tongue.

“Fuck, Abby…f-feels so good…” you whimper out to her, grabbing her braid and pushing her head further into your pussy. With half-lidded eyes, you make the effort to keep your gaze at the window to be on the lookout. You seriously did not want to have to deal with the possibility of getting walked in on…again.

The amount of moans and whimpers that leave your mouth only drives Abby to speed up her pace. She ends up pulling your hips closer towards her as she continues to eat you out like a woman starved before inserting two fingers inside and quickly pumping them in and out of you.

Your hands have flown back to gripping the edge of her desk once again and your elbows are now propped at the center of it to support yourself. You can’t even focus on looking out the window anymore with all of the overstimulation that she was giving you right now. At this point, both of you could care less about someone knocking again.

It didn’t take long for that familiar feeling to build up in the pit of your stomach again. That same feeling that you had gotten when she came over last week, that same feeling that you had reached around 15 minutes ago before Abby’s father decided to interfere at the wrong time.

You try your best to even form a sentence right now to let her know that you were getting close. “A-Abby…I-fuck…I’m getting close again…”

She simply looks up at you without stopping her movements. Her bright blue eyes were darker than before, and her pupils were blown out just like yours not too long ago. She was getting drunk off of your arousal once again.

With her free hand, she manages to do that same movement with you again, where she brings it over to your stomach and presses her palm down, all while maintaining her mouth on your clit and her fingers pumping and curling themselves deep into your cunt.

From there, it didn’t take long for you to reach your peak.

“A-Abby…I’m gonna—Fuck!”

And that’s when it hits you. Before you could even warn her again your cunt pulses hard once last time before cumming all over her mouth and fingers, leading her to greedily drink you clean. Your head is thrown back in pleasure, your stomach is all tense from the pressure of Abby’s hand, and your inner thighs are trembling and dripping.

Once you’re able to catch your breath, you look down and watch Abby pull her mouth and fingers out of you. That same deja vu feeling hits you again when you see the condition she was in. She was just as out of breath as you were, and her fingers, face, and lap were now covered in your release.

Abby leans in and strokes your trembling thighs to calm them down followed by planting kisses throughout the tender parts of your skin. “You alright there?” she asks with a smirk, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

You nod slowly at her and give her a smile, still slightly drunk off of your orgasm. “Yeah, fuck…” you breathe out. “You’re so good at this, you know..”

The blonde simply shrugs in response. “Anything to get that taste from you, princess.” she replied with a chuckle, kissing your inner thigh one last time before setting it down.

You watch as she picks up your underwear and skirt off the ground and helps you get them back on before getting off of her desk. You hear her chuckle again when she sees you try to stand with your legs still limp. “Think you can walk?” she asks, that same smirk showing up on her face again.

You roll your eyes at her and playfully slap her shoulder. “Oh, I’ll be fine…” you tell her in reassurance.

Abby shakes her head in response, placing one hand on your waist before holding one of yours with her. “Let me walk you to your car. I’ll take you out the back so no one sees us.”

Once you safely get to your car, you unlock it and slip yourself into the driver's seat before closing the door and starting it. You then roll down the window to see her hovered over you, her arms resting on the roof of your car.

You feel yourself blush a little when you see how damp her clothes now were because of you. “Um, what do you plan to do with that?” you ask her curiously, pointing at her clothes.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got my gym clothes in my truck, I’ll be fine.” she reassures you.

You nod in response. “Okay, well…thanks again for, um…”

“Fixing your outlet again?” she asks, raising her eyebrow.

You let out a laugh at her response. “Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, “For fixing my outlet, again.”

Abby chuckles and shakes her head, briefly looking down at the ground before back up at you. “So I’ll see you at the bake sale next week?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your smile before nodding again. “I’ll be there.”

Abby leans in to kiss you goodbye before tapping on the roof of your car, indicating that you were good to leave. You wave at her as you pull your car out of the parking lot and exit the site.

Well, it’s safe to say that you most definitely will be attending that bake sale next week.

- a/n: did not expect this one to get long…part 3 anyone?

part 3 here

requested tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @winfleurs @aouiaa @zombholic @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @echostinn @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch

(striked text means i couldn’t tag sorry!!)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[katiexpunk]

You may have done this before, I haven’t read all your work, but How about Joel and Tommy (or just Joel 😜) take you on a horse ride, out into the woods and end up having a fun time on the grass

Tell Me a Secret | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Non, thank you so much for this request. I hope you enjoy this! I love getting requests from ya'll, makes my heart so happy.xx As a side note, this will be my final fic as an unmarried woman. My wedding is in less than a month (!!!!)

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Word Count: 7.8K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Warnings: References to canon typical violence. It's hinted that readers father was abusive. Death. Blood. Reader is an artist. Ellie/Sarah/Tommy/Maria and others are referenced in this. Ellie and Reader are friends. Alcohol. Angst. Horses. Pining. Oral (female receiving). Praise kink. Pet names. Emotional sex. Very unprotected sex. They fuck outside, but nobody is around. Joel makes a questionable choice in this one that invades readers privacy. Breeding kink if you squint. Creampie. Fingering. Lots of references to art and poetry. A surprise ending that might mean more later on... Immersibility: Reader has no physical descriptions apart from having hair, breasts, and a uterus. It is noted at one point that there is charcoal visible on her hands. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). Creative Credits: the middle image of the graphic is a drawing by @kamal.classic.art on Instagram. The poem referenced at the end is by Olivia Ann Rose. The opening section is modified poetry from Brianna Pastor. Inspiration was pulled from the lake scene in The Princess Diaries 2. And shout out to our boi Leonardo da Vinci, cuz I reference the Mona Lisa.

It’s really easy to be angry. 

Over the years, anger became so familiar to you that you had a difficult time differentiating between that and your sadness. Both felt equally daunting. 

It’s difficult to work on your sadness with its roots are boiling with anger. Both don’t always look the way one might expect them to. Sometimes, the face of anger is neutral, a quiet rumble you don’t notice because it’s buried so deep. 

That steady stream of anger and hurt seemed to trickle into every single thing that you did. You had become cold and numb to the reality of the world around you; an empty shell of who you once were. 

And then you met Joel Miller.  

He came along and started to nurture what you buried so deep that you eventually forgot what was even planted there. 

And you did the same for him. 

Like the sun, you elevated the ordinary with a simple touch. Your rays warmed the cockles of his heart he thought had gone so cold they could never be revived. 

This is that story. 

++++

It doesn’t take Ellie long to figure it out. 

“Hey, give me that back!” You snap at her, attempting to pull the tattered notebook from her hands, but it’s pointless. Her tiny fingers must have been sumo wrestlers in another life, you wager. Putting space between both of your bodies by quickly walking backward, she locks eyes with you until her back is up against the makeshift bookshelf. 

This is your favorite place in all of the Jackson – the makeshift library Maria started a few months back.  It’s not much, but with your help, the collection is starting to grow. You’re quick to stuff books into your pack on raids and have summoned a handful of the townspeople to aid in this effort. It’s always quiet and peaceful; a stark contrast to the world outside the walls that keep you safe here. 

Well, that was until a rather foul-mouthed 14-year-old named Ellie arrived in town. Despite your age difference, you two have become fast friends, even if she does annoy the shit out of you sometimes. 

“Ellie, I am so serious right now, please give my notebook back,” you plead with her from across the room, your hands on your hips, a serious undertone to your voice. 

“Why? Whatcha trying to hide so bad? Drawing a bunch of dicks or something?” she jokes. 

When you don’t respond, her eyes widen in surprise. “Holy shit, dude. You are drawing a bunch of dicks, aren’t you!” she teases, resting the pads of her fingers in between the pages of the notebook, slightly parting the paper. All she’d have to do is move them a little and the pages would fall open, revealing your secrets faster than a Catholic at confession. 

She starts to crack the spine of the notebook, but your voice calling out once more causes her pause. “No, wait, Ellie, stop,” you say a tad softer this time. “I’m not drawing a bunch of dicks, and even if I were, that’s not something you should be looking at – it’s…personal,” you respond, hoping the sincerity and softness you’re attempting to frost over the obvious bite of anger behind your voice will encourage her to listen.

She stares back at you, scanning your face up and down for a hint of the truth, thinking for a few moments. 

“Fine,” she says. Your shoulders fall from your ears and the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding escapes from your lungs. She walks back over to you and extends her arm out, the notebook in hand, preparing to hand it over to you as if she’s some sort of General accepting a truce deal. 

As you reach out to grab it, she lets it slip from her hands a few seconds too early. A nearly silent oops escapes her lips. The notebook falls to the floor with an audible thud, dropping as fast as a dead body, its pages falling open on both sides, like blood spilling on the floor. 

Before you register what’s even happening, Ellie already has her knees on the floor, hovering over the open pages, a look of astonishment and delight on her face. 

“Whoa – is that,” she asks, but before she can finish her sentence, you’re quickly snatching it up, snapping it closed with an audible thud. You both rise, and she’s looking at you, a smug smile of knowing on her face. Her smile grows like she’s just found some sort of secret treasure. “That was me, wasn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question, she already knows the answer. 

You consider lying, but fuck it, you’re in too deep at this point. Plus, she may be only 14, but she’s smart as a whip, and you know she’d be able to call your bullshit from a mile away. Besides, she already saw the damn thing. 

“Yes, okay, Ellie. Fine,” you concede. “It’s you. I – I like to draw,” you admit sheepishly like you’re afraid of what might come if you say it out loud. 

It’s not that you’re not proud of your drawings, you are. The only thing you can attribute to your unwillingness to share your hobby with the world is akin to a trauma response. 

Memories of your father ripping up your first notebook of drawings, the one he found under your pillow when you were a teenager, flash through your mind. Goosebumps litter your body when you swear you can still hear his raspy voice, harsh from the burn of whiskey, telling you that drawing won’t pay the bills and to knock that shit off or he’ll beat it out of you. He wasn’t particularly a man of his word, but somehow, he managed to keep that one. You’re not sure when the anger started to creep in, but you think it might have been then. Watching your hard work darken and crumble in the fire almost hurt worse than the sear his belt left behind. 

“You were reading your comic over there the other day,” you admit, nodding your head toward the little nook by the window. “The light was just right, and well…I don’t know, I just got inspired and figured I’d give drawing you a shot,” you admit, voice soft and shy. 

“Well you’re pretty fucking good at it,” Ellie admits. 

You shove it down, the spark of happiness her words ignite in you, and it works. For now. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you respond, clutching your not-so-secret secret closer to your chest. You aren’t good at taking compliments; especially now, after everything that’s happened. 

“Can I have it?” Ellie asks. She rolls her eyes for a second, before eventually adding a please to the end of her request. You remember her telling you a few weeks back that Joel has been working with her on manners. You’d only met him once, but as far as you could tell, he was the southern gentleman, wounded dog, not to be fucked with, but still the impossibly polite type of man. The type of man that would punch another guy in the bar for questioning a lady’s honor, or stab him in the kneecap for looking at his girl the wrong way. 

You consider her request for a moment, before eventually deciding that since it is her likeness, she should be the one to have it. You crack open the book, being careful to hide the other pages from her view before the familiar sound of paper ripping fills the room.  You’re careful to tear it in a straight line, close to the spine, so as not to ruin the drawing. 

With her portrait in hand, you bargain, “You can have this under one condition. You can’t tell anyone about this.”  Ellie gives a subtle nod as if to agree. You don’t notice her middle and index fingers crossed tightly behind her back when you hand it over. 

“So you’re sure you don’t have anything super naughty in there?” Ellie teases.

“Alright kid, no more dick jokes or Joel is gonna choke me,” you chide, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. Wouldn’t that be quite the piece of jewelry; a Joel Miller hand necklace. The truth is that while you don’t have anything super naughty, you do have more than one drawing of her guardian hiding in your pages. You’re not sure of much anymore, but there is one thing you do know for certain – those drawings are something she can never, ever, see. Those drawings are something nobody can ever see. 

Ellie was quick to discover your secret.

Good thing it was just one of them. 

You drape your arm over her shoulder and walk out of the library together. 

++++

It all happens so quickly from that moment on. 

It’s only spring, yet the Jackson grapevine is in full bloom, carrying the fruits of your talent to pretty much the whole town. You can’t say you’re surprised. What did you expect from a 14-year-old with minimal entertainment options? 

It starts with Ellie letting it slip to Maria while they’re washing the dishes from family dinner with her, Tommy, and Joel. 

Maria lets it slip to Tommy. 

Tommy lets it slip to Samantha, the town’s soapmaker. 

Samantha lets it slip to Joey, the butcher. 

Joey lets it slip to – well – pretty much everyone else. You wouldn’t have guessed the town's butcher would be such a gossip, but dead cattle don’t make great conversationalists. Before you know it, you’re accepting some sort of art deal over porridge in the dining hall like it’s a shady drug deal. 

“Come on, think of how happy it will make people,” Maria pleads with you. “You only have to do as many as you want,” she adds, looking at you with kind eyes, the ones that are nearly impossible to say no to. 

You stare back at her in silence, attempting to piece together a response in your mind, but your words may as well be a 1,000-piece single-color puzzle at this point. 

“So many of us don’t have those memories anymore. Think of how much it will mean to people to be able to put a drawing of their family up on their walls once more, you know?” she says, laying it on thick. Like how it used to be is what she leaves out. 

“Fine. I’ll do it,” you respond, dropping your spoon on the wooden table next to your half-eaten bowl of breakfast. You feign annoyance, but deep down, you’re excited about the opportunity. Scared shitless, but excited. 

“Yeah? Great. Oh just wait until I tell Tommy, he’s going to be ecstatic,” she says. “Now finish up, can’t have any of that food going to waste,” she quips, before swinging her leg over the bench and adjusting the brim of the cowboy hat on her head as she walks away, a smug look on her face. 

++++

In the following days and weeks, you find yourself immersed in the lives of the residents of Jackson. Setting up your makeshift easel from scrap wood you collected on patrol in living rooms, on front porches, and amidst picturesque landscapes. 

The people, once reserved, slowly begin to open up to you as they share stories and anecdotes of their lives before. It’s sweet, you think – how chatty people get when they have nothing to do but sit there while you try your best to capture their likeness. 

Some conversations are easier than others. Most of the time you just nod your head and let out occasional nods or grunts of agreement, too immersed in your work to listen to what they’re saying, but sometimes you find yourself so engrossed in their stories that the drawings take hours to complete. 

As much as you learn about them, you rarely open up about yourself. Sometimes they ask, sometimes they don’t. Regardless, you feel like the woman you were before no longer exists, she was left to decay with the rest of your family back in Austin. You know she’s in there, buried deep inside, hiding behind a door of anger and tears. Sometimes she cries out, but you buried the key to that lock years ago. No getting out now. 

As the portraits accumulate, so does a sense of connection and unity. You’re no longer an unknown. A threat against resources. When you first arrived in town, you did your best to make yourself useful and show people that you weren’t just dead weight. And it worked, or you think it worked anyway, but the past few weeks have caused a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Before the apocalypse, you never really saw a place for your artwork or your talent. But now, you can see how it’s becoming a bridge, linking generations and weaving a tapestry of shared histories. Giving people something to cling to, something to hold on to, something to cherish once more.

Of all of the portraits you’ve done so far, your favorite is the one you did of Tommy and Maria. She hasn’t said anything yet, but from the way she placed her hand on her belly, and the way Tommy looked at her, it was pretty easy to guess. You did your best to capture their likeness, knowing it would likely be shown to generations to come. When you showed them the final result, Maria cried and hugged you tighter than you’ve been hugged in years. Their love was obvious – radiant and shiny. If anything were to make you believe in love again, wouldn’t seeing it right in front of your face be it?  You try not to think about it too much when you realize it doesn’t. 

You no longer have to walk the streets of Jackson, bouncing from place to place, alone. There’s always someone to talk to on your journey, or a comfortable silence paired with a subtle wave in the distance, or the occasional sound of a creaky screen door opening for you. Even before things went to shit, you never had this – community. With each finished portrait, you find yourself making a new friend.

You should be happy now. You know that. Your parasympathetic nervous system has had an opportunity to return to its normal state for the first time in years.  You have the warmth of friends, and people like you. Like actually like you. They like what you’re doing, what you’re creating. 

But you aren’t. 

Because while you’re capturing the entire town's attention, you’re starting to realize you only care about attention when it’s from one person.

And unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to give two shits about you or what you create. 

As you lay in bed that night, fidgeting with your necklace, you stare up at the ceiling and think about what started this whole infatuation in the first place. It was a drunken night, hardly anything. Not even a story worth repeating. You shouldn’t even be thinking about it. It was nothing. 

But as you feel sleep calling you into its abyss, you remember the way his voice called your name that night and the heavy feeling of his gaze on your chest. 

It was nothing. 

Nothing.

Nothing. 

Nothing. 

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming about him that night. 

++++

Being the town's only artist comes with its price. While most of the time you don’t mind the endless stream of hellos and requests for additional portraits, you’re not up for much conversation this morning. 

You slept like absolute shit last night and decided that if you weren’t going to sleep through the night, you might as well be productive with your time. When your eyes fluttered closed thinking of what, and who, to draw, the image of Joel sipping a cup of coffee in the dining hall, reading an old Western book from your library, played on the screen of your heavy lids. You decided to put your feelings on paper and start a new portrait. After you woke up from your dream, probably around 3 am you guessed, you stayed up late enough to see the sun rise over the horizon, before eventually deciding that it was too late, early for most, to go to bed now. 

Seeking solitude and shielding yourself from prying eyes, you make yourself at home in the stables. You perch on a weathered stool in the corner of the barn, perfectly positioned in the corner so your back is supported, and begin sketching the handsome grump. As if he was right in front of you, his features are regal; sharp jawline decorated with a salt and pepper beard, one of the patches faintly shaped like a heart, dark brown eyes that resemble those of a deer, the crinkled lines around his eyes and forehead that serve as proof of age. Arguably your favorite feature is his nose. Prominent, aquiline, like a bow that perfectly ties all of his facial features together. Joel Miller is one beautiful fucking man.

Completely immersed in your world, you lose track of time. You could have been sketching for twenty minutes or three hours, who’s to say. Exhaustion envelopes you in an embrace and you doze off in a peaceful slumber. 

When Joel enters the stable for his morning shift, he catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye; perched up on a rickety old stool, head slumped over, resting on the wooden edge of the barn. Your arms are wrapped snuggly around your chest as if to keep yourself warm in the dewy morning air. As he approaches closer, treading carefully against the hay as if he were a cat trying to sneak up on its prey, he takes in the finer details of you peacefully asleep, blissfully unaware. 

There’s charcoal on your hands, your lips are slightly parted and there’s a little glisten of drool pooling in the corner of your lips, and your hair slightly covers your face. Jesus, he thinks you’re gorgeous awake, but seeing you asleep – so vulnerable and tender – nearly causes his heart to skip a beat. He tries to ignore what it does to his cock. He knows you’re an artist, but with the way you look right now, hell, you might as well be the artwork, too. 

He thinks he could stare at you for hours, but there’s something more pressing for him to look at first. He’s seen you carry your trusty notebook around, rarely ever setting it down, and certainly being very guarded when you have it cracked open around others – especially him. So when he sees it lying on the ground, he thinks…what could one look hurt? He doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. He’ll be satisfied once he knows what you’re hiding in there. Surely. One look, and he’ll wake you and that will be it. 

After all, it’s just a peek. 

He’s not quite sure what he expected, but this was most definitely not it. As if he were looking into a mirror, his reflection stares back at him from the dull matte of the pages. As he flips from one page to the next, he swears time stops altogether as he takes it in. Your secret. 

As he scans the pages, something burns deep in the marrow of his bones, a fire and heat that exists only for you. Now that he knows your truth, he’s not sure he can stop what he does next. His large palm floats out to caress the underside of your jaw, and the pad of his thumb ghosts over the soft swell of your bottom lip. Before he lets himself get too carried away in his thoughts, he clears his throat. 

“Mornin’,” a husky voice says, startling you. You all but launch into orbit and almost fall over like the stool, but the owner of the intruding voice grabs your elbow before your backside collides with the floor. You’re relieved to see that your saving grace is Joel, yet you’re burning with embarrassment at your clumsiness. 

Joel clears his throat before speaking with his hand still grasping your elbow, “M’pologies, didn’t mean to startle ya, sweetheart.” 

”Oh no, I was just…” you sputter out, still finding your bearings. He reluctantly removes you from his grip but not without letting his fingers trail across your skin as he lets go. The ghost of his touch is a noticeable one. 

“Didn’t sleep well last night, I take it?” Joel asks, a softness to his voice. 

“Afraid not,” you say, kicking your heel into the hay, trying your best to avoid his eyes so as not to spill all of your fucking guts. I was too busy thinking about you.

“You’re in luck, darlin’. I have just the thing to wake you up,” he says, “and ‘m not takin’ no for an answer,” he says with a wink. 

“I’m sorry, am I speaking to Joel Miller? Have you been bitten? Are you feeling alright?” you joke, placing the back of your hand up to his forehead, a giant smile on your face. 

“My reputation of being Jackson’s own Boo Radley precedes me, I see,” he jokes back. 

You shoot him a look that says who the fuck is Boo Radley? Instead of giving you an explanation, he just chuckles like it’s an inside joke. 

“Come on now, we’re goin’ for a ride,” he says with finality. 

You try to ignore the heat that stirs low in your belly at the thought of riding with Joel Miller as he guides you deeper into the stables. 

++++

The sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the picturesque landscape of Jackson. Situated in front of Joel on the horse, you close your eyes and exhale all the air from your lungs. You hold your lack of breath for a moment, before feeling your lower belly rise, taking in the crisp air laced with the scent of wildflowers and fresh blades of grass in through your nostrils. 

Joel is an easy-riding partner. He doesn’t say much, yet you feel secure in his presence with your back nestled up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped around you, his capable hands holding the reigns, guiding the horse through the scenic trail with ease. You rub your eyes for a moment before opening them to take in the breathtaking view of the snow-capped mountains far off in the distance, and the lush green meadows that surround you. You almost forgot beauty like this could exist. 

Joel turns his head, following your gaze. A small smile tugs at the corners of his weathered lips as he agrees, "Looks like a good spot to take a break."

Guiding the horse toward the field, you both dismount and allow the horse to graze freely. Joel suddenly remembers he has a blanket tucked away in his saddlebag. He retrieves it and spreads it out in the clearing amidst the vibrant flowers.

Seated on the blanket, you unravel the satchel from over your shoulder and place it on the ground by your side while you simultaneously marvel at the beauty surrounding you. The sun plays hide-and-seek through the branches of nearby trees, creating dappled patterns on the ground. Joel settles beside you, gazing out at the open expanse. 

As you bask in the splendor of the spring day, your attention fully absorbed by the vibrant beauty surrounding you, you inadvertently miss the subtle shift in Joel's focus. His gaze transitions from the scenic view to rest upon you. In a moment of silent admiration, he drinks in the essence of your being. His eyes trace the contours of your profile, lingering on the way the sunlight plays in your hair, transforming it into a golden halo that only seems to make his mouth water more. 

He admires the view of you propped up on your elbows, eyes closed, heart center shining toward the sun, the swell of your breasts painted like a picture before him.

“Tell me your greatest desires,” he says. 

As you open your eyes and turn to face him, as swift as the breeze you feel in your hair, you feel all of the air escape your lungs. Joel Miller is one beautiful fucking man. You’re momentarily lost in your own world as you admire the way he looks like this; relaxed, basking in the sun on a checkered blanket. His dark brown eyes are now a soft shade of amber, the silver streaks are a little more prominent in the sunlight, and the furrow of his brow has lessened. 

“Alright. Tell me a secret” you respond, the corners of your lips threaten to turn up in a smile. You press up off your elbows and roll onto one on your side to face him. 

“Isn’t that the same?” he asks, responding to your movement, mirroring it. 

Now face-to-face, and chest-to-chest with him, inches only separating your bodies, you pause and let your eyes flint to his lips. 

“Anyone can see your desires, no one knows what’s in your heart,” you say. 

“Tell me something,” he says. 

“I still dream of the taste of McDonald’s french fries,” you say, “and I’m not sure I know how to feel happiness anymore,” you say, as a matter a fact. 

Your words reverb through his ears, and he stares at you in silence, unsure of how to respond. 

“I used to be a contractor,” he admits, “and I had a daughter named Sarah.”

You look at him with soft, wide eyes. Pain is visible on your face, taking in what he’s yet to say. When you don’t respond, he adds, “She died in my arms on Outbreak day,” he admits, averting his gaze over your shoulder. His hands have somehow navigated to find a single blade of grass that he toys with in between his fingers. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you pause in silence. Like your words could ever make up for his loss. Everyone had lost someone at this point, but the way he said it, you could tell it still felt fresh to him. 

“It’s alright, Darlin’, next confession,” he says, obviously wanting to change the subject. 

“Ellie,” you chuckle, but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up at the mention of her name. “She’s such a pain in my ass, but she’s probably one of my best friends right now,” you say. Like it should be embarrassing, you, an adult woman, friends with a 14-year-old. 

“Yeah. Little bugger has her way of working her way under your skin, doesn’t she?” he says, bringing his attention back to the panoramic scene laid out in front of you. You notice the smile that graces his face. “Your turn,” you say, this time paying all of your attention to his profile as he stares out to the horizon. 

“I saw your drawings,” he admits, even though every fiber of his being is telling him not to. Your smile fades from your face and your heart sinks. You swear the sun must have navigated light years closer to Earth from the way you feel your skin heat, your blood hot enough to melt bone. You might as well turn to liquid there, melting into Mother Earth.

“Wh–what? What do you mean?” you ask, your voice mostly a tremble. 

“In the barn, this morning… when you were asleep. Your notebook fell to the ground, and well – I saw them,” he decides to leave out the part where he intentionally decided to take a peek, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing the ethics of it. 

You’re nearly one with the core of the Earth, her heat drawing all of the moisture from your mouth, your tongue dry, briefly incapable of forming a response, before your brain lands on the following.

“You mean – you saw – yo,” you start to say before he interrupts you. 

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, once again, a soft tone of honesty behind his voice. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is not happening. This is not happening. 

Mortified, your whole body goes limp and the back of your head falls to the ground. You scrunch your eyes closed as tight as possible as if that might somehow wake you up from the nightmare that this scenario is. You bring your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and let yourself absorb all of the nasty and icky feelings of embarrassment that cross your brain. 

When you open your eyes, you start “Joel, I can explai–” he cuts you off with the weight of his body pinning you in place, his lips pressed against yours in an intentional, yet gentle, kiss. It’s stationary at first like he’s just trying to get you to shut up, to save you from the danger that is your thoughts. With your eyes still wide open, you stare back and try to rationalize if this is really fucking happening right now. 

You break the kiss for a moment and look up at him, “Joel, what are you doing?” you ask. 

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I haven’t overthought it like you’re about to,” he admits, staring back at you, “tell me you don’t want this,” he says, hoping you don’t. As if you could ever. When his question is met with no response, he takes that as a green light, and his soft lips once again find yours. 

Your eyes flutter closed, and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, your fingers interlacing behind his neck. He deepens the kiss with a moan and grinds his hips into yours, the heavy weight of his center pressing deep against yours ignites a firework display of nerves in your body. You can tell from the package that’s pressed up against you that he’s quite big. The strengthening of your touch is met with a soft mmm from his chest, as his heavy frame pins you tighter to the ground. 

His lips stray from your lips, kissing over the razor edge of your jaw, finding their way to the nape of your neck. His hot breath and the weight of his strong and capable body make you feel weightless, despite the pressure he pushes on you. 

He presses tender kisses to your pulse and trails them down to the hollow of your throat, causing your breathing to hitch in your throat. His wide tongue licks a long, flat stripe up your windpipe, and his teeth come together in a little nip on your chin. Fuck. You let out a little cry of unexpected pleasure at the sensation. He pins both of your arms high up above your head, and his mouth continues its relentless pursuit on the bare skin of your neck and exposed collarbones. 

“Joel, please,” you beg, your vision foggy from the thrum of your blood pulsing through your veins at a rapid pace; your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. 

“Gotta use your words for me, pretty girl, tell me what you want,” he responds, a low growl to his words. 

He’s barely managed to touch you, yet, you choke out, “Need you,” you moan, “need you to touch me more, god, please,” you beg, your arms still pinned above your head. Satisfied, he releases his grip on your arms, and both of his palms find purchase on your center frame, just below your ribs. He kisses his way down from your throat, through the valley of your breasts, and over your belly, trailing the ghost of his lips to the soft plush below your navel.

He hooks his thumbs under the band of your pants, and deftly pulls them off, alongside your underwear. He continues kissing down the gash between your thighs and pauses once his mouth is centered on your glistening slit. His tongue darts out to lap at some of your slick and you swear all of your senses cross at the sensation of his tongue. 

Fuck –,” you cry out as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy. Joel moans before making his tongue flat and massaging your clit with it. It’s so fucking good. 

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your walls clamp around the welcomed intrusion. His finger grazes against the soft spongy spot inside you that feels so good, and he works it in and out of you before adding another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so close. You choke out a moan in response, enjoying the sensation of his long and thick fingers rubbing against your walls as his tongue makes tight circles around your sensitive clit.

You pull at your nipple through your shirt with one hand and hold on to the top of his head, his hair entangled between your fingers as you attempt to hold on to him, an anchor to keep you from floating away, and he devours you.

His fingers thrust faster, his mouth firm on your throbbing bud, and you’re so close. You wail out, and the slurping groans that come from Joel are fucking primal and filthy.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he says, his words barely audible with his mouth on your puffy lips, “want you to come,” he moans. “Come on pretty girl, I’ve got you – let me have it, soak my face.”

His dirty talk is all you need. "Yes, oh my God – Yes! Joel, fuck, I'm coming, don’t stop," you cry, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your chest hot. Your vision goes white as you release yourself to him. Your back arches and your legs flex; your stomach feels like it’s being sucked into itself, and Joel works you through it, lapping up your come.

He rises from between your legs, his beard slick with your release, and smiles at you. As satisfied as you are at the moment, he’s the one that looks it. As much as he would love to make you come multiple times under his tongue for hours, to savor your sweetness like it was the last strawberry on earth, he’s starving for it. 

He makes quick work of undoing his belt and jeans, before sliding them off his legs to free himself. Gripping his heavy cock in his hand, he positions himself at your entrance and pushes just the tip in, wishing he were less riled up, less desperate for the warmth of your body, but he finds comfort in knowing you’re right at that line with him, begging to be filled. 

“Need you,” you beg, your doe eyes looking up at him. He’s had many people beg for things from him – supplies, food, their life, but you, god, there’s something about you, split open and begging for his cock that he can’t say no to. 

He smiles, and slides all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. He buries his cock deep inside you, to the hilt, so deep you can feel the tickle of the dark hairs that outline the base of it against your clit. Your pussy is so wet and tight, and holy – “fuck me, baby,” he moans, thrusting his hips out of you just barely before shoving them forward; the stretch of him is a delicious slow burn. 

“Choking my cock so fucking good, baby. So good,” he moans before he begins to set a slow rhythm with his movements, letting you both adjust to the sensation. He praises your name and his breath catches on your collarbone, and he sucks a small mark there as he fucks in and out of you. When you whine for more, more of this, and more of him, this time he’s the one who’s lost for words. He might not know what to say, but his body responds in kindness, his cock thrusting in and out of you with a slow drag that drives you wild. All he can do is admire the beauty that you are under him, an angel on earth making a sweet, sweet mess, all for him. Just for him. 

“Mmm, God, Joel – ‘m gonna, fuck, Joel, – right there –” you cry up to the sky above you, the clouds in the sky witness to your pleasure. He knows his cock is enough to get you there, but it’s not enough, not to him. Putting all of his body weight into his left arm, being sure not to crush you, he drags his right hand out from under his weight and it lands to cup your pussy; already so wet and so full. His fingers extend and find a home on your clit, and he begins rubbing tight circles on your aching bud in a way that makes you swear it must be nighttime from the stars you’re seeing. 

“Here, baby?” his fingers continue their relentless pursuit of your clit, and he bucks his hips harder. He’s rewarded with the glorious sound of your moans reaching an octave that makes his cock twitch a little harder inside of you, “Jesus, sweetheart – gonna make me come like a teenager if you keep clenching like that, gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, an animalistic sound emanating from his chest. 

“Joel, I’m gonna come –”  

“I can tell, baby – clenchin’ so hard around me, want you to give me your all,” he demands, as he grabs your hair and tells himself not to come with you, too soon.

“No,” you choke out, staving off your orgasm. He stops his thrusts for a brief second, “What?” he asks, a bit bewildered. At this point you’re both a tangled mess of limbs, sweat beading on your foreheads, chests heaving. You intertwine your hands through his hair and gently pull at it as you look him deep in the eyes, “I want to come,” you promise, “I just want to ride you while I do it,” you admit. 

You pulse around his cock at the confession, and with your truth still lingering on your lips, Joel pulls out and flips around so he's on his back. He steadies himself by the base and holds his cock straight up for you. You rise and position yourself over his center; you line yourself up against him while he cups your cheek with the other hand, “take your seat, pretty girl,” he says in a tone that’s just shy of a beg, and you do, feeling yourself slowly sink onto every inch of him. Your action elicits a throaty groan from him. Your eyes once again glaze over at the sensation of him so deep inside of you, so big, so deep. The stretch of him shoves out every other thought you can muster until all that’s left are thoughts of him in your brain.

In an attempt to get a better angle, he shifts his upper body up onto his forearms, as you continue to grind your hips into him. Both of your arms wrap around his neck, and you use the strength of them to pull him closer into your chest as you continue to slowly grind your cunt into him. You swear you can feel him in your lungs, and with the way your clit grinds against his skin, you’re nearly there, nearly gone.

A weird combination of emotions pools in your belly, part pleasure, part something else. You feel it creeping up your throat, clawing up the back of it like it’s manifesting its reality before it manages to surface. Heat pricks in your tear ducts, and before you know it, it’s such a big, bold feeling – a lion in a cage that won’t be tamed. Simultaneously, you feel a familiar tug at your navel, like a rubber band, stretched to its capacity, on the verge of a snap. 

The orgasm that tears through you is so epic it causes your head to fall back, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head, your vision going static white. Your lower body shudders against his thrusts, and your inner muscles clamp hard around his cock as he fucks you through it. You convulse around him, doing your best to ride his thrusts and contribute as your whole body trembles. With tears streaming down your face, you press your lips against him. He wraps both of his arms tight around your chest, pinning you close to his heart, meanwhile spearing you with his cock. His thrusts stop for a moment, and he looks up at you, both hands coming to grip the sides of your face. 

“Why are you crying baby,” he asks with genuine concern in his voice. 

“You’re just – so god damn beautiful, Joel,” you admit, and your sobs come a little harder. If this were pre-apocalypse, you might be mortified by the fact that you were sobbing for a man you hardly know, all while riding his cock, but it’s not. You rest your forehead against his and let the tears continue to fall, a handful of them dropping to his cheeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, and one of his hands leaves your face, trailing down to gently grab at your wrist in comfort. “No, baby. That’s you,” he says, slowly continuing to fuck into you with a slow grind. 

“My perfect girl, I’ve got you, baby, you’re safe. I’ve got you,” he says, as he holds you and fucks you with such passion and intentionality. He fucks all of the love you haven’t let yourself feel in decades back into you. His cock fills every gap that has been left unfilled by every wrongdoing, every terrible, bad thing. He holds you like it isn’t the end of the world, but rather the beginning. He fucks you like his cock alone could fix everything, and at this moment, you’re confident it just might. 

Still riding him, a soft “please,” leaves your lips. “Please use me,” you say, sinking your pussy down further onto him, so tight you can feel the tip of him pushing down on your cervix. “Want your come, Joel – need it, need it so much,” you beg, and oh god, he’s so fucked. 

Joel was already on the crest of his release a long time ago, but here you are – utterly fucked out, riding him, and begging for his come. He’s a smart man, he knows he shouldn’t, but – you tug at his hair harder, and ride him for all you’re worth. “Fuck me, baby,” he moans, alongside a long slew of your name and other profanities, he only has so much resolve left, a resolve that’s slowly crumbling with each drag of your wet cunt up and down his cock. 

You press your lips to his once again and he feels his balls tighten. The litany of pleas and the taste of your salty tears is what undoes him. Buried deep inside of you, he comes harder than he has in decades, spilling hot and deep inside of you. He fills you up with all he’s worth, painting your insides with white hot ropes of his seed. Normally you’re the artist, but right now, you’re his canvas, his fucking Mona Lisa. 

Joel grunts and you collectively still your movements. He holds you close as he waits for the aftershocks and twitches to still, still plugging you, keeping all of his spend deep inside of you. He plants soft kisses all over your face and neck and caresses your hair. You stay like this for what could be hours, minutes, days. Time is a construct you have no concept of right now. 

After a few minutes, he groans. Pulling out is always the hardest thing to do. “Gonna get off you now,” you say softly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, as you lift your hips and swing your leg over his body. Your pussy whines at the lack of something to grip around. A rush of his come dribbles out of you onto your inner thigh, but you don’t pay any attention to it. You roll over onto your back, and he does the same. As you both lay there, he grabs your hand and squeezes it tight. You’re not sure what time it is now, but by the color of the sky, you guess it’s late afternoon at this point.

“We should get back,” you say, staring up at the sky, watching the clouds make their creations. 

“Yeah,” he admits, only looking at you. When you avert your gaze from the sky to look at him, you get deja vu as you take in the sight of Joel Miller, his tossed curls and chocolate eyes, and you swear you’ve seen this sight before. Maybe in a dream. 

You commit the sight to memory, promising yourself to draw it later. 

“Will you sit for a portrait with me?” you ask, voice soft, once again turning to face him, but this time it’s different.

“Only if you promise to go for a ride with me again,” he admits, and you smile, a heat creeping up to your cheeks. 

“Deal,” you promise. 

You both lay there for what could be hours or minutes, you’re not sure. But as the sun looks like it’s about to dip below the horizon, you both decide it’s time to head back. You both get dressed, and he helps you onto the horse. You both leave your perfect little meadow, knowing that it will be there for you to discover again and again. 

On the ride back, you reflect on a poem you remember reading years ago.

There are two kinds of people in this world, those who see the ending, and those who see the beginning. 

And after years of living in the ending, you’re ready to let the girl who you were before out of her prison. Joel undid the lock, all you had to do was let her see the light of day once more. 

A new beginning. 

You and Joel ride back in blissful silence. 

Once on the outskirts of Jackson, Joel simply says, “Maybe we should invite Tommy next time.” 

But that’s a different notebook. 

END 

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As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list, or removed (even if we're moots, no hard feelings). I'll still be using my tag list for now, but I just started a notifs blog, so will be transitioning to that eventually. Please follow @katiexpunkupdates to get notified when I post fics.xx

[entrop-y]

the real tragedy of spencer reid: a character analysis

the real tragedy of spencer reid isn’t any of the individual traumas that he suffered on the job, it’s that he became jason gideon.

think about it; the show begins with gideon returning to the bau after he’d been on leave due to his ptsd. ptsd caused by a mistake he made resulting in the death of 6 agents in a bombing.

throughout season 1, we see that spencer idolizes gideon. the way in which he idolizes him, however, is complicated. on one hand, spencer sees gideon the same way he sees rossi—pure hero worship. on the other hand, he sees gideon as a more than a mentor, as a father figure. this is less overt than people make it out to be in canon, but it’s true nonetheless.

in the first season, we see gideon mentor reid, with the goal of shaping him into the future of the bau, the best profiler they’d ever had. we also see the similarities between reid and gideon, though subtly, at this point. it’s established that gideon and reid understand each other (perhaps in part as a result of both of them being on the spectrum), in a way that the other members of the team, do not.

in season 2, however, we see gideon start to grapple with the implications and consequences of reid’s job at the bau. this is most clear when reid is kidnapped. at this point in reid’s career, gideon was supposed to protect reid; so naturally, he blames himself for his kidnapping. in “revelations”, when the camera cuts from reid seizing to gideon panicking in the bathroom, he is desperately trying to justify his actions to himself. he blames himself for what happened to reid, and it’s killing him. reid survives, but hardly unscathed, and gideon distances himself, likely, as a result of his own unaddressed guilt. people in fandom criticize gideon for this, but it is realistic. gideon is flawed, that’s what makes him compelling.

the most telling scene, however, is in the episode “jones”. reid finally confesses to gideon that he’s struggling. gideon responds with an ambiguous monologue about knowing the time to quit. when reid declares he’ll never miss another plane again, the look gideon gives him is not one of pride, it’s one of despair. it’s his realization that reid is too far gone, he has decieed to follow in gideons footsteps in the way of giving everything to the job, regardless of what it takes from him.

sarah’s murder was the reason gideon ultimately decided to leave the bau, however, his guilt over spencer’s torture and subsequent addiction undeniably played a role.

the show goes on, gideon leaves and ultimately dies, but both events eventually blend into the background—just another one of reid’s endless traumas. it is not until season 11, especially following morgan’s departure, is when we really start to see a palpable, negative change in reid.

until this point, reid’s character development seems mostly positive. he’s more confident and sure of himself both in the field and as a profiler, and as a person. but with the introduction of diana’s alzheimer’s, we start to see reid become overall sadder, more anxious, and more reserved. gone is his need to prove himself, but we see the beginnings of the toll that the bau has taken, one he is beginning to struggle to justify.

notably, this is especially clear pre prison season 12. emily and jj particularly seem acutely aware of the fact that reid is running himself into the ground at home, while desperately trying to keep everything together at work. then, once reid goes to prison, he never truly recovers.

while the show abandons any meaningful follow up about reid’s ptsd, it’s undeniable that after prison, reid is never the same. unlike some viewers interpretations of this version of reid as being more attractive and confident (more likely stemming from seeing reid as more “masculine”after gaining some weight and keep his facial hair), the signs really point to reid after prison being utterly depressed.

he has anger issues, which clearly distress him, and his heart to heart moments with the team are laced with an underlying desperation, exhaustion, and sadness. in short: reid is drained. the job has taken everything from him in a way he no longer knows how to get back.

the final episode, the show comes full circle, highlighting the parallels between reid and gideon. reid makes a bad call that results in the death of six agents, just as gideon had 15 years prior. if it weren’t obvious enough, reid visits gideons grave in his tbi induced dream sequence. in “jones”, gideon was terrified and guilt ridden over the prospect of spencer turning into him, but it is exactly what happened.

just as gideon had, reid gave everything to the job, and the job took everything from him. reid ended up a traumatized, depressed, workaholic with no real relationships—barring only his mother—outside of his job. like gideon, like rossi, even, reid was never satisfied, never felt like he had done enough, and all it got him was a lifetime of trauma and crushing solitude. by the end, the bau was virtually unrecognizable to what it had been at the beginning of his career. reid could never leave, despite the pain, the trauma, and the loneliness, his identity as a person and an agent were inextricable. by becoming jason gideon, reid lived up to what had once been his greatest hope, and gideons greatest fear.

[edensbuttercups]

Summers and letters - Robert "Bob" Floyd x reader

after the Coffee shop AU (x), time for a Scout AU

Summary: Every summer, you spend one moth at summer camp, teaching kids and teenagers along side a group that you've grown to love. And that's were Bob teaches too, planning games and activities for yet another year, except this year might be the last, having sent all of his details to try to get into the Navy. So what happens when he does leave for the Navy, leaving both you and the kids missing him, as well as your crush for him not yet revealed?

A/N: This has been in the works for months, and I just couldn't find the motivation to finish it, but gladly, I finally did! Planning on writing a part two from Bob's point of view, at least from when he leaves, when he receives the letters, how things go from there. I hope this ends up being a good read, let me know if a part 2 sounds interesting enough! ♡

Words: 4.5k

As always, requests are open and comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading and hope you're all having a good day ♡

Every summer, you set aside a whole month for the scout’s camp, a whole month spent with kids and teenagers, depending on the week, and a whole month with your fellow teachers and friends. You had been seeing them every summer for at least four years at this point, the real world getting shut out each time you crossed the makeshift entrance to the camp, nothing but three trunks nailed to each other, strong enough to hold onto each other during the worst of storms. The weeks were organized in the best of ways, groups divided by age and somewhat easy to deal with, ending each camp with a song by the fire, a good amount of badges earned and a whole lot of fun memories to take home. 

And after dark, when the kids were in bed, you got to hang out with everyone by the fire, just like you had with the kids, yet with different conversations, deeper, funnier, getting to know each other better, with the lack of contact, usually, between one summer and the other. There was one of your fellow colleagues that you kept contact with, Sarah, just one year older than you and living on your same street, and a colleague that you wished to have more contact with, but never found the courage to: Robert. He had everyone call him Bob, and you couldn’t help but smile every time he came over to you, talking excitedly about the activities planned, or some of his passions, adventures on the ranch, dreams. You remembered one of the first nights on camp this year, when the two of you had found a spot by the campfire, on lookout for any kids ignoring lights out or that rather preferred wandering in the dark, talking to each other to make the time pass, keeping each other company while you waited for the next people to take over. 

“I remember my first time on a horse. I wasn’t really a fan of the idea, but my dad had insisted, so I climbed on and tried my best for a solid ten seconds, before deciding to give up. Ended up with my foot stuck on the saddle. Rode for 50 meters upside down and crying.” He told you, his cheeks blushed from the slight embarrassment he still felt when talking about it, but it was all worth it when you laughed, your hand reaching for his shoulder as you wiped a tear from your eye. “Were you okay?” You asked, eyes sparkling from the laughter you had just graced him with, finding the image of a seven year old Bob hanging from a horse a little too funny. “Oh, yeah, just annoyed.” He said, laughing once more and shaking his head, “I tried again the next day, actually thinking about my movements before jolting down a moving animal, and eventually I came to love it. I was just grumpy that day and that did not help.” You smiled at his words, his way of being, the comforting sight of him in front of you, sitting cross legged in front of each other as the nearby campfire warmed you. “What’s your plan with the ranch?” You asked, shifting a little closer, just to feel his knees bump against yours, his hand reaching over to grab your hands, holding them between his when he saw you shiver, a comforting habit he had grown into after knowing you for a little over two years now. “I’m not sure. I always thought I’d stay. Help my family, keep on what has been going for years, but… I don’t know, recently I’ve been wondering if maybe leaving would-” he shook his head, frustrated that he couldn’t find the right words, “I’m afraid that staying here will make me miss something that maybe I’m supposed to find.” You nodded, blushing at how his hands were cradling yours, thumb gently caressing your skin as he talked, understanding his words but getting lost in his touch. “An adventure you’ll miss if you stay here?” you offered with a smile, having felt the same thing as him. This town was great for many things, but it was its own world. You loved summer camp, creating a separate reality from the rest of the world for a good month, but when you got back home you did wonder what you were missing, if all those things you saw on tv were things you were supposed to truly live, rather than simply dream of. He looked at you, his eyes scanning your own, nodding slightly. Squeezing your hands softly before letting them go he cleared his throat, looking ahead at someone, your mind soon catching up and standing up, knowing that it was time to give up your lookout position and head to bed. He whispered a goodnight as you reached your cabin, waving timidly before climbing the steps to his own, leaving you with a smile on your lips at his first story, and some aching in your chest at his uncertainty, one that matched your own. 

“Bob! Next year maybe we can try the other trail? I heard there’s caves and stuff!” the kid excitedly said, her hands gripping tightly to her own pants, trying to contain her movements. “I… yeah. If I’m here, sure!” He muttered, hands reaching for hers, helping her move down from the log she had climbed onto, the way back to camp seemingly not fun unless she went over any obstacle she laid eyes on. You turned to look at him, in your eyes a questioning look that he returned with a small shrug and a smile, hoping that he’d have the chance to further explain later on. He had never missed a year, always there for the whole month, mentioning once that this was his time off from the ranch, getting extra time to hang out and do something he loved. So his uncertainty was… weird.  “You promise?” she asked, this time jumping over a small rock, her hands clinging onto the kid in front of her, Nellie. “Yeah, promise! Promise!” Nellie started chanting, soon aided in her chorus by most of the other kids, their voices high in pitch and loud, making you laugh as you moved around them, gently shushing them. “I… I promise, yeah.” he said it slowly, as if his promise wouldn’t count that way. He was half sure he would be there, but he wasn’t fully sure, and lying was something he hated, especially when it came to lying to the face of those adorable kids, kids he had spent various summers with. “Time to head back, kids, let’s not overdo it, we wouldn’t want dear old Bob to go deaf, right?” you joked, moving them along the path, the sign to the entrance of the camp now in sight. You missed the way he smiled at you, or the way he had to glance down at his feet instead of quickening his pace to catch up, the lie slowly making him uneasy. You slowed down your steps, falling into a small walk as the kids ran ahead, finding the others and falling into a queue, ready for the next activity, one that neither you nor Bob had to partake in, time for a welcomed break. “If you’re here?” you questioned, trying to keep your tone lighthearted, pushing any other feeling away, even if the closeness of your hands was making it hard to concentrate on anything but reaching for his, holding it, for once. “I…” he started, taking a deep breath in, chuckling lightly, “I was thinking of joining the Navy. Sent my papers to the academy and all. I don’t think they’ll take me, I mean, c’mon.” He laughed, pointing at himself, “but if they do, summer is… not a thing I’ll be able to pass here, I think.”  “Oh.” You managed to reply, your footsteps slowing once more, not willing to end your chat so soon, slowly stirring it towards the path that twisted around the camp, a short-ish walk, but leaving you with some more time to talk. “I mean, they’d be lucky to have you, really.” you said honestly, smiling at him. “But I’ll miss you, if you end up going.” You revealed, looking up at him. He didn’t look like a Navy guy, with his messy hair, not combed after the night ‘cause of lack of time, or his glasses, or his slightly shy demeanour, but you’d support him in it. He was smart, and he had many skills, and he would be great and you knew he could do it. He wouldn’t know that, of course, since you never quite got the courage to ask for his number, never exchanging them, never hearing from each other if not when you met a whole three seasons later, and so you’d never get to tell him how proud you were of getting in, if that ended up being the case. And it took everything you had in that moment to not show the disappointment in your face, especially when you glanced back up at him, his cheeks red from the sun and his eyes twinkling from the light. God, you thought, If he does end up going, next summer is going to be hard.

You sat by the campfire, Bob sat opposite you, Sarah by your side, chatting with the others about the last days on camp, the crackling of the wood making everyone smile fondly as stories were exchanged. “I couldn’t believe that Kyle found the courage to cross that bridge all on his own.” Martin said, shaking his head. You nodded along with the rest, smiling as the kids' accomplishments were shared, as the last activities were planned, from writing a summary of their favorite activities for reference for the coming years, to what stories to tell and treats to cook. “So,” Sasha said after all the planning had been done, “what are you all going to be doing this winter? Will we be seeing everyone next summer?” He asked cheerfully. He was the oldest of the group and acted almost like a dad to everyone, always keeping in touch when he could, but also taking care of the vast majority of the summer camp organization. You smiled as everyone took their turn telling their plans, talking about your own when it was your turn and told everyone your own plans, not varying much from those of the previous year. It was then Sarah’s turn, with the chatter about parties and travels, hopefully, never losing that glint in her eyes as she talked. It was then Alice’s turn, and Eliott’s, until it was Bob’s, and you moved to look at him, curious to listen, and to have the extra excuse to look at him with no guilt about it. “I’m going to help out at the ranch.” He mumbled, “The usual. But… yeah.” He added, nodding with a light chuckle. It was the furthest thing from a confirmation about his presence in the upcoming year, but Sasha took it as one, not noticing how Bob’s eyes darted to yours when he didn’t mention what his plan really was, almost as if he was asking you to keep his secret, which of course you did. You gave him a soft smile at his words, keeping your gaze on him, seeing his big blue eyes as they looked back, a timid smile sent your way as a silent thank you.

Two days later you said your goodbyes. The kids left first, their parents coming to pick them up as they hurriedly ran towards them, jumping in the arms of mothers, parents, brothers, grandparents or caregivers, each child happy to have spent the time in the wild but still glad to go home. Olivia and Nellie, having grown closer this year than they had during the last two, waved at everyone, giggling and running around. You turned to look at Bob, his smile bittersweet as he looked at everyone, waving and saying his goodbyes, and his words from the previous days came to mind. “So…” you said, moving closer to him, “I’ll see you next year, maybe?” He hadn’t added anything else, and while there were still a few hours to be spent all together, fixing what could be fixed of the camp and saying your own goodbyes, this seemed like one of the last moments you’d get alone with him. He sighed, looking down. “Maybe, yeah.” He nodded, already missing the idea of not being here, but feeling a passion in his being at the thought of what the navy could offer. “I’d love to be, but… it’s not sure.” He mumbled quietly, still weary about talking about it with anyone but you. “I’d love for you to be, too.” You joked, deciding on asking him for his number when you saw his smile, the excuse of keeping in contact perfect and direct. “I wanted to-” “Hey, Bob! There’s some fixing to do in cabin 4, can you give me a hand?” Roger shouted from halfway down the path, interrupting you. “Yep! Coming right down!” He shouted back, fixing his glasses and looking back to you, expectantly. “Oh. Ehm… nothing,” you said with a dry laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up under his curious gaze, “Go help Roger. I’ll see you later!” you waved, turning to find Sarah. You had almost asked him. Which was already a step forward, maybe. Still, it felt bittersweet. Even if you got his number, there was a good chance he’d be gone by next summer, away in another state doing who knows what. 

You sighed as you reached your cabin, finding Sarah in it, packing and cleaning, moving around to the music. “Anything I can help you with?” you asked, stepping in and smiling at her, happy when she nodded, needing something to keep you busy. “Last bit of cleaning, yeah. There’s a sponge by the desk over there!” She said, pointing at the clean sponge by the soapy water, the smell coming from it flowery and sweet. You moved by her side and cleaned along, dancing slightly to the music, not saying much.

And there you were, a few hours later, clutching your bag like your life depended on it, waiting to see Bob for the, possibly, last time. “Hey.” You heard him call after a moment, jogging up to you and sending a wave at Sarah, patiently waiting in her car. She had told you to talk to him, that being the only way you could get a lift home from here, and that’s what you did, clinging to that threat to give you the confidence you needed. “Hey.” you repeated, sighing softly, “so, it’s done, huh?” You barely had spoken, his arms already wrapped around you in a quick hug, a thank you whispered in your ear before he pushed away, standing before you again. “I’m sorry. I… I hope to see you again?” He asked, slightly stuttering as he reached for his bag, flinging it over his shoulder with red cheeks. “Yeah.” You hummed. Want to exchange numbers? You could’ve asked. Would you like to keep in contact? “See you next summer, maybe?” Is what you came up with instead, looking at him expectantly until he nodded, swallowing the words that he might’ve liked saying, leaving you to leave with a curse on your lips at the missed opportunity, and him with a slight sadness in his chest, knowing it was likely he wouldn’t see you next summer. 

Winter passed slowly, spring soon breaking the frost and warming everything up, leaving a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest. You couldn't wait for camp to start again, meeting new kids, spending time by the fire, seeing Bob again. It was stupid, but he was kind, and cute, and intelligent, and you enjoyed spending time with him, so harboring a little crush was fine, but a little distraction you could allow yourself. 

And then the start of summer officially came, leading you all the way up to the annual meet-up, few days before the kids would arrive, the camp in need of some small maintenance and preparation. It was all great, until each single person arrived, except Bob. He was always one of the first to arrive, with his bag of stuff and big smile, waving at everyone and standing by your side, your little chit chats vital as you caught up with each other. But this time he wasn’t here, and you knew what it meant. You tried to hide your wandering gaze, feeling a hand brush over your arm and jolting you out of your thoughts, meeting face to face with Sarah. “How have you been?” She asked you excitedly, pulling you in a hug. She held you tight, moving you from side to side as she patted your back, happy to see you in this setting rather than your usual neighbourly visits, even if her reaction made it seem like you hadn’t seen each other in months. “All good!” You lied, smile tight and fake, hoping that she couldn’t read what was really going on in your mind. You had held on to the hope that Bob would be here, but now that you were waiting, it didn’t seem likely anymore. “Great!” She smiled back, taking in her surroundings and counting each person there. “We’re one short.” She announced, turning to look at you with questioning eyes. “Bob’s not here.” You said, looking down and revealing your secret almost instantly, knowing she’d understand soon enough anyway. She knew about your slight crush on him, revealing it earlier last fall when you spent a chilly night with some drinks, the alcohol making you spill your secret. “Oh, honey.” She said softly, hearing your tone and reaching to pull you in another hug, this time trying to comfort you. It was just a crush, but she knew you cared about him, and had desperately hoped that he’d be there.

“Bob?” She asked, perching herself forward, almost falling off her chair. “The cutie with the glasses? The one that always comes over to chat with us but never really talks to me unless you’re around? The one that looks at you like you’re a goddess every time you help a kid that fell over, or when you charm everyone with your stories?” You felt your cheeks burn as you shook your head, knowing that that could not be the truth. “Sarah, please.” You begged, half-regretting mentioning this to her. “No, no, I fully get it! He is cute, he’s funny, you two work well together. But you should tell him.” She spoke honestly and simply, clinking her bottle to yours. “Never.” You said with a laugh, knowing that that wouldn’t happen. Sure, you worked together, and you loved talking to him, and every time you were by his side you could get lost in his stories or just sit in silence and enjoy that too, but there was no way you’d tell him that you liked him. “Okay, then ask for his phone number. That way you can chat, and maybe he’ll ask you out.” You sighed, shaking your head. “If the moment calls for it, sure. I’ll… maybe.” You offered, clinking your drink against hers and smiling when she nodded, letting the subject of asking for his number fall, yet still talking about him for another moment, laughing each time you blushed at something she said. 

And so, camp went on as it always did, with bumps and cuts and stories and adventures and crying and laughing and joking and hoping. But with no Bob. It worked out, somehow, except when the kids felt his absence, asking about him, wondering, talking.

Pauline caught up with you, Nellie by her side as she tugged on your pants. “Hey, Pauline, Nellie. All good?” you asked, stopping to talk to them. “Where’s Mister Robert? He said we could go explore the other trail this year!” Her smile was bright, and your heart broke a little more at the knowledge that he wasn’t here. You had heard him make her that promise, and even if he had tried to avoid it, she clung onto it for the whole autumn, winter and spring. “Bob isn’t here this year, dear. But we can still go explore the other trail, we’ll just have to-” “Why isn’t he here?” She asked, interrupting you with a frown. You sighed, lowering your head at the question you had asked yourself the first day back, waiting for him eagerly to arrive only to be left with one person less on your team. “From what I know, he joined the Navy.” You explained quickly, grabbing both her hand and Nellie’s as you walked, answering each question as well as you could as you walked back to camp, needing to tell Sarah the change of plan and pick up any gear needed for the new trail. “Can we send him a letter?” Nellie asked, already collecting a leaf and a flower to press and add to the letter, remembering when he had taught them all about preserving flowers, insisting that they were great gifts, especially for people far away. “We… I think?” You truly weren’t sure, but you assumed that probably it wouldn’t be an issue. You could go talk to his family and get an address, or just leave all the letters for when he got back. “We can.” you decided, giving yourself the afternoon to collect the materials for the next day, knowing that some of the kids would want to add little drawings or think about what to write. “So,” you started, calling the attention of all of the kids, combining a little group of all the ones that had the chance to meet and work with Bob, along with one kid, Henry, that hadn’t, but that had heard so many good things of him that begged you to send him a letter anyway. “Everyone can get one piece of paper to write, and one to draw. Don’t feel obliged to do both, but don’t waste paper either.” you said, trying to be stern but not overly so, flashing everyone a smile as they walked over to grab what they needed. By the end of the day you had collected all of the letters, sitting on your bed while you waited for Sarah to be done with her shower, reading through them and smiling at some of the drawings, Bob being drawn in all of them, sometimes with a goofy smile, or with a Superman cape, or giving a thumbs up to a kid when they did something right. He had always been kind to them, always treated them like equals, always cared for them, and the love he gave was always returned, these letters just proving how he was in their eyes. Dear Bob, I miss you. We get to write you letters, we hope your you’re having fun at the navy thing school. You said we’d get to go try the other trail. We did last week, it was scary but we did it. I miss you, come back to camp again next year please. Love, Nellie.

The first one said, the messy handwriting accompanied by a drawing of her and Bob holding hands, the sun shining in one corner with a big smile.

Dear Bob, My name is Henry. You didn’t meet me, but I heard from my friend you were amazing. I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet. I hope to one day. Big hugs, Henry

This letter had a drawing of a car, red and fast, along with a character that probably was Henry, waving.

Bob, You’re not here this year. I’m sad :( Will you be back next year? What are you doing now? Do you miss us too? I drawed your favorite flower, I remember when you showed me in the forest last year. Come back soon Lucie

And Lucie, just like she promised, had drawn, with her little uncertain lines and messy coloring, a cute flower, Bob’s name written behind it with a big heart.

You closed your eyes, holding the letters in one hand as you considered if this was okay. Shaking your head, you picked a piece of paper up, choosing your best pen and writing a few words to accompany the ones from the kids, each one too sweet to not send to the man you had slowly started catching feelings for. 

Dear Bob, So you made it! I had no doubts, I’m so proud of you! I hope this is okay, but the kids missed you, so I proposed writing you a letter, something to remember us by. There ended up being quite a few, so I hope between trainings and lessons you’ll get enough time to slowly read them all. It was lovely getting to spend so many summers with you. I’ve missed you. I’ve attached my number at the bottom of this message, it might make communication easier, even if just to let me know you got the letters. Big hugs from everyone. 

You signed your name at the bottom, scribbling your number and checking it thrice, as well as reading the whole thing over and over. It wasn’t much, and most of what you wanted to say went unwritten, not willing to tell him anything more than friendly words, already debating for quite some time before Sarah convinced you to write your number down too. “He’ll appreciate it.” She comforted you, looking at the letter in your hand. “It’s so forward.” You muttered, eyebrows drawn together in worry. There was nothing more that scared you than losing this friendship you had built with him, kill this harboring crush before it even had a chance, just cause you had been too forward. “This is literally the opposite. If I were you I’d end it with Love, or with my whole heart, or-” “Okay.” You interrupted her, plucking the page out of her hand and folding it neatly, placing it on top of the stack. You’d send them tomorrow morning, the address you had gotten written carefully and neatly on the front, all the letters placed together in a simple box, not overly heavy but surely giving him some reading material. You truly hoped he wouldn’t mind you finding out where to send the letters to. When you had gotten to his family’s ranch, roughly a week ago, you smiled as you knocked on the door, his mother welcoming you in for some fresh lemonade and a slice of her apple pie. You ended up sticking around for over an hour, telling her stories of how you had met Bob, what activities he was the best at organizing and what stories he had told, as well as her mentioning how much he talked about you, making your heart flutter until you realized she probably meant you as in “the whole team”. By the time the sun had started to set, you had left his house with an address, a piece of pie for the way home, and a new friend. The next morning you sent the letters, the little box you had prepared now donning his name and an address, and soon, hopefully in the next week, he’d receive them.

A week and a half after that, you received it. A simple text from an unknown number, the picture attached to the message immediately giving you a clue as to who it might be.

I am honestly speechless. I didn’t expect this, thank you so, so much.

[mariatesstruther]

Okay but what about hairDresser!maria?

Sarah is growing up and starts to get more vain with herself, and tommy notices she's having a hard time with her hair. So after he picks up the girls from school for joel, tommy leads all of them to the salon and that's where they meet maria. Man just imagine maria giving sarah all the tips for her hair and trying different hair styles🥺Maria focusing on braiding sarah's hair and trying to ignore all of tommy's flirt attempts lmao. And cute little ellie asking for braids too awwwwwwwww

we LOVE hairstylist maria over here!!!! i could’ve sworn i made a hairdresser au already where tommy takes sarah to salons and maria teaches her to do her hair but i cant find it 😭😭😭

i do imagine that as sarah grows up past like 4-5 and realizes her hair is different from most people around her, she’d be less vain and more self-conscious (i really doubt you meant vain in that way so don’t worry about it, im just sensitive to language regarding black little girls and their hair). austin texas in the 1990s-2000s was only about 10% percent which isnt bad, but i know from growing up in a predominantly white area that it heavily impacted how i saw myself and my hair.

i LOVE the idea that tommy and joel would put extra effort, as much as they could, into making sure sarah’s hair is loved and taken care of. i love the idea that maybe they start taking her to the salon as soon as she’s old enough, like 3-4, to sit in a chair long enough to get herself and her hair pampered

so here’s some actual plot: maybe sarah has a regular hair stylist that she’s gone to since she was literally 2, mama shirley (HEY MAMA SHIRLEY LETS BRING U INTO ANOTHER AU). unfortunately mama shirley is getting older, her hands not as agile and quick as they used to be, and she tells the miller boys that she’s planning to retire soon. they’re both pretty anxious about it because sarah like routine and sameness, and getting her hair done is already enough of a feat for her with all her sensory issues, which mama shirley always accommodates for. luckily, mama shirley assures them she’s found a brilliant replacement that’s she’s been training for months

when sarah meets maria, it’s like the little girl is meeting an in real life princess. maria has long, long, long locs that go all the way to the back of her knees, some streaked blue and purple and pink—all sarah’s favorites. maria has gentle hands and rounded nails that feel good when they scratch at sarah’s scalp in the washbowl, just like mama shirley’s. she has a whole punch of stim toys and fun charms on her locs, necklaces, and bracelets that she lets sarah reach up and play with while she works.

she talks to joel and tommy about their life with her and how she’s doing in school and how they take care of her hair at home, making gentle suggestions here and their based on her own experiences growing up as a black girl in a predominantly white area—fuckin’ omaha, nebraska. she lets joel and tommy step in and try whatever she’s doing with sarah’s hair. tommy, bless him, is so nervous and into her that his hands are way clumsier than usual. luckily, his poor attempts just make her laugh and place her hands next his to show him how to smooth out sarah’s hair correctly, without flicking the product all over himself and his shirt

she remains sarah’s hairstylist for years, and tommy falls in love with her slowly at first, considering he only really sees her once every four weeks. eventually he starts going in for his own hair, then offers to do free repairs for the salon—then, finally, maria pulls him into the back room one day and says “ya know, miller, you don’t have to work here to spend time with me. you can just ask me out.”

“i—i can?”

“you can. you’ve taken long enough.”

“i—uh. alright. sorry to keep you waitin’, ma’am. dinner? tonight?”

“dinner sounds good :)”

gonna tag my hair babies @boilingcowboy and @clickergossip bc i feel like they’d appreciate this idk and i feel like rose may be the only person to remember my other hairstylist au 😭

[ramrage]

How about another Fortune?

chapter 2: Part 2

work rating: M

chapter rating: T

relationship: John “Soap” MacTavish x Simon “Ghost” Riley (endgame); John “Soap” MacTavish x Original Female Character (temporary)

characters: John “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley”, Original Female Character

tags:

ao3 link

part 1

HELL, MIDDLE OF

“Ma, I hardly see how this is any of your business.”

“You’re right, you’re right. It’s just,” her mother bows her head, peering into her empty mug. These conversations, Joan Mitchell found, never got easier. Always fawn-legged statements, always pushed forward with a stick, offered in the same placating voice. “Seven is years is a long time, Ellie.”

“And what’s it matter to you? You’re not getting married to him.”

“By the looks of it, neither are you,” Sarah interjects with the exasperation of someone who’s heard the same shit play out time and time again.

“Fuck, Sarah, leave it out.”

“I’m just saying,” Sarah explains, “Ma’s right for fucking once. If he hasn’t bleedin’ proposed by now, who’s to say he ever will?”

“Well, he’s been very b—“

“busy lately. Yeah, I remember. But won’t he just be getting busier and busier?”

Ella looks away, arms crossed. It’s dead silent in the kitchen, the seconds hand of the clock counting down the heartbeats, the heaving breaths, the indecisions, etc., etc. Eventually Ella speaks up, still boring a hole into a seam on the vinyl floor. “Do you always have to be so fucking negative, Sarah?”

“Well, do you always have to be so naive?” Joan is a smart, prudent woman and has not said a fucking word. “C’mon, Elle. I’m not sayin’ all this to hurt you. Fuck, I say it because I know you’re hurting.”

Joan is a mother, and above all else, gives a damn when her daughters experience first-hand how shit the world can be. She cares because she loves, and also because she’s been there, too. She takes Ella’s hand. “Are you, Elliebelle?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

STAGE PLAY: DREAMSCAPE

SOAP AND GHOST are shackled to one of the four concrete walls that make up what appears to be a prison. Watching over them is a cruel-looking man, the CAPTOR as well as his burly henchman, GRIGORIY. The CAPTOR is speaking to SOAP who, like GHOST, has his head hung low in defeat. The two captives are bruised and beaten, a stark contrast to their well-kempt captors. Standing UC is the CHORUS and NARRATOR, all of whom are unseen by the other named characters.

CAPTOR

Go on, give your Lieutenant a kiss, pretty boy. You want to save him so bad? You love him? Well, go on, then. Kiss him

SOAP

No

NARRATOR

You see, John—or Soap. Whatever you please—says “No,” and he means it, in a way, but not the way you think.

NARRATOR

Right now, his heart his racing

CHORUS

Racing!

NARRATOR

And his stomach feels like it’s swarming with butterflies

CHORUS

BUT-TER-FLIES!

NARRATOR

And you might call it fear, but it is

CHORUS

Antici-PATION

NARRATOR

But yes, also a bit of fear. Because surely, his Lieutenant doesn’t want to kiss him—

CHORUS

Oh nooo!

NARRATOR

Least of all now

CHORUS

Shit timing! Shit timing!

NARRATOR

Well, enough from me. Let’s see how this plays out.

CAPTOR

What?

SOAP

I said no.

CAPTOR

Well, that is a shame, boy. Because now I have to kill him

(the CAPTOR cocks his gun)

GHOST

Fuck!

(ALL turn to look at GHOST, who is shaking his bowed head, resigned to the situation. One member of the CHORUS gasps.)

GHOST (cont.)

Fuck, Johnny. It’s fine. Just fucking kiss me.

(SOAP nods, knowing this is the only way.)

SOAP

Alright, then.

(SOAP crawls slowly across the room until he is at GHOST’S feet, but he pauses)

CAPTOR

Do you not love him, boy? Do you want to see him die? (a beat) Grigoriy, take his mask off.

(GRIGORIY crosses the room in long strides and yanks the mask off GHOST’s head. SOAP startles at the commotion, and is transfixed by the sight before him: GHOST’s bare face—bruised, sweaty, but captivatingly handsome)

SOAP

I’m sorry.

GHOST

It’s okay. Just do it.

(SOAP leans in and presses a ginger kiss, like a child, to GHOST’s lips. GHOST’s eyes are closed the entire time)

NARRATOR

The time, the place—it’s all wrong, but somehow, it feels right!

CHORUS

So right!

NARRATOR

For Soap, at least. Who’s to say how his Lieutenant feels? One thing’s for certain, though. Their captor is not pleased.

(the CAPTOR laughs)

CAPTOR

You call that a kiss? Pathetic. Do it again, like you mean it, or else you both will die.

(SOAP curses under his breath and repositions his arms for better leverage, trying his best to give GHOST space)

CAPTOR

Don’t stop.

CAPTOR (cont.)

Big one, kiss him back. Touch him.

(GHOST acquiesces and the CAPTOR watches on as, unbeknownst to himself or anyone else, the background is transformed from an underground, cement-walled prison cell into a cramped, but cozy officer’s dormitory. GRIGORIY exits SL and as the new set finally slides into place, the CAPTOR follows GRIGORIY offstage)

(SOAP pulls away from the kiss, breathless, and swiftly removes his own—and then GHOST’s—shackles with an almost-frantic excitement)

SOAP

I’ve never felt—

GHOST

Me neither.

SOAP

Fuck, I think I love you. I think I fucking love you.

CHORUS

Throwback! Throwback to Chapter 1!

NARRATOR

Throwback, indeed! How could it be? John MacTavish is once again proclaiming love? In the very same fic but to a very different person?

CHORUS

But isn’t he straight? Isn’t he straight?

NARRATOR

Put not the cart before the horse, my dear friends. Give it a second.

GHOST

You’re out of your mind, MacTavish.

SOAP

Am I?

GHOST

Soap, love isn’t for men like us.

CHORUS

It’s a self-indulgent reference…to another fic!

NARRATOR

Shh!

SOAP

Says who?

GHOST

Does it fucking matter? You know how this goes. You know all the reasons we can’t, so just…

GHOST (cont.)

Drop it.

SOAP

No, I’m not dropping it. Not when I feel like this, not when I know you feel like this, too. What are you so afraid of?

GHOST

This isn’t your fucking life, Soap, and you fucken know it. You’re supposed to fuck off and retire and have pretty fucking babies with some pretty fucking woman in Scotland, and that’s it.

SOAP

(quietly) and what about you?

GHOST

I die.

SOAP

Then I’ll be by your side when that happens.

SOAP stands defiantly and offers his hand to GHOST, who takes it after a tremulous moment of consideration. Once GHOST is on his feet, SOAP grabs GHOST’s hands and walks them to the cot, where they sit side-by-side, hands still entwined)

SOAP (cont.)

I don’t want to get married. I want you, you thickheaded piece of shit.

GHOST

No you don’t.

NARRATOR

But he does.

SOAP

But I do.

SOAP (cont.)

If you won’t give me forever, just give me tonight. That’s all I’m asking for. If you want me.

GHOST

Okay.

SOAP

Okay.

(SOAP lets out a soft, abrupt laugh, as if he cannot believe his luck. GHOST answers him in kind before taking him by the chin for a deep, sweet kiss, though it soon grows more passionate. Just as GHOST hoists SOAP up by his thighs and throws him to lay face-up on the cot, the curtains close)

A spotlight descends on the curtains and the NARRATOR returns, standing in the center of the stage.

NARRATOR

A glooming peace this morning with it brings;

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;

Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:

For never was a story of more woe

Than this of Johnnyboy and his darling Ghost.

CHORUS

Justice for Ella!

- SCENE -

HELL, MIDDLE OF (BUT SLIGHTLY TO THE LEFT. TAKE IT BACK NOW Y’ALL!)

“Wait!”

John jolts forward, thin bedsheets pooling where he hinges at the waist.

He’s alone in his room, just himself and the repetitive, familiar chirping of his alarm. In fact, all of it is familiar. He remembers this bed, how it feels, remembers the walls and the linoleum floor and the smell of it, too. But where’s Ghost? He was just there.

John pats his mattress, as if Ghost was somehow hiding beneath or between his sheets and unsurprisingly finds nothing.

Right. Because he’s alone in his room, just himself and the sheets and the cot that struggles to fit his body, let alone his and someone else’s. He rubs at his sleepy eyes and forces his mind to reacquaint itself with reality, but the dream he’d just had was sticky—clawing it’s way impossibly back from the aether, begging, scrabbling to linger even if just for a few moments longer.

The dream was sticky in that way, and also in another.

John decides that it’s a beautiful day to curl up and die and then die again just to be safe.

HELL, MIDDLE OF (CHARLIE BROWN!)

Hell on Earth exists, and it is Verdansk. Freezing fucking cold, windy as all hell, and dark, dark, dark.

Luckily, Soap has an angel looking over him, but he’d rather not think about that right now.

The angel’s voice comes through tinny and flat and terribly familiar through his earpiece, which does little to mellow its rasp. “Soap, you’ve got three enemies moving in East.” Reliable. The angel is reliable and also professional, and its voice is simultaneously the very same and so radically different from how it sounded a handful of hours ago.

Soap takes a moment to nod to no one in particular before checking left, then right. Indeed, he can make out three figures ambling his way, assault rifles cradled lazily in their arms as they shoot the shit on patrol.

“Copy,” he says, very calm, very collected. In reality, he is very nauseous. “Permission to engage?”

Already anticipating the go-ahead, he readies his muzzled sidepiece and pats the handle of his knife for good measure. He knows it’s there, of course, remembers slotting it in its sheath, but shit has a terrible habit of happening.

“Give ‘em hell,” says the angel, AKA Ghost, FKA Simon, AKA the very last person Soap trusts himself around at that given moment.

To make a long story short, Soap does indeed give them hell. They get to their exfil location. They exfil. Soap doesn’t look at Ghost’s hands (too familiar) or his eyes (also too familiar) and doesn’t get close enough to smell him (too familiar) or anything else, really.

Ghost doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t act like anything’s amiss at all.

(familiar)

SPOTIFY

Discover Weekly

Your weekly mixtapes of fresh music. Enjoy new music and deep cuts picked for you. Updates every Monday.

Made for John MacTavish

1h 43m

Careless Whisper

George Michael

Careless Whisper

George Michael

Careless Whisper

George Michael

Careless Whisper

George Michael

Oops! I Did it Again

Britney Spears

Careless Whisper

George Michael

Careless Whisper

George Michael

HELL, MIDDLE OF (REVERSE! REVERSE!)

An accident becomes several, which in turn become the gateway drug to your deepest desire. Nice guys don’t finish last. They generally don’t finish at all: A Collection of Haikus

oops (sensation)

they’re not your hands (not

hers or yours) but they feel, of

course, so good, so good

i (and sound)

call to me, that voice:

more like thunder (like i). i

needed, yet need more

did (and sweet)

secret taste of salt

and taste of sin. oh, soothe me.

my love, forgive me

it (and scent)

you’ve laid down your arm—

just the one—for me to find,

and covet, and drink

again (and see how fucked you are)

fingers follow your

eye (I’ve caught) and I pull down,

push forth the issue

[acourtofthought]

Hi, how are you? Sorry, I'm popping in here to rant away a bit.

I just really don't get why people want to read a story about a rejected bond?? They find the mates trope boring - but the 3 sisters+3 brothers thing not? If the mates trope is not for you, maybe don't read SJM books? Because in her universe, mates are the ultimate HEA.

I certainly don't want to read about Lucien and Az going through the pain and suffering of their bond being rejected. It would be the most miserable book in existence.

But ofc, this is the only way that a certain ship would work, so they cling to that one scene where Feysand discussed the mating bond and call it foreshadowing. I personally don't think Sarah wrote that to foreshadow a bond rejection, certainly not for the main characters, but it was important to understand for the readers that even if there is a mating bond, there is still choice.

The mating bond did not force Feyre to give Rhys a chance and eventually fall for him, same with Nesta and Cassian. Even though the males were aware of the bond.

They-who-must-not-be-named are so loud advocating for Elain's choices, yet they still ship her with a male that wants to coddle her despite her wishes and speaks on her behalf. Oh and what about her choice of giving back the necklace? She never gave back Lucien's gifts or Graysen's ring. She basically rejected him and I really don't see Az seeking her out after this to f/ck secretly.

The thing about Elucien is, short of declaring publicly 'I reject you now good sir', in my opinion they pretty much doing the bond rejection right now. It's been two years - they made zero progress in getting to know each other, they live far away from each other, trying to do their own thing. Yes we see the longing on Lucien, as it is harder on the males, but he still respects Elain and tries to give her space. The bond clearly does not force them to be together. So if Elain decides she gives Lucien a chance eventually, that will be because she chooses to do so. And this is where the choice thing comes in with mates.

I also feel like the Vassien ship is a byproduct of that ship, because they know if A+E were to become a thing, Lucien will basically go into the trash. So they try to justify it with 'but look he is sooo into Vassa he spoke this 3 sentences about her!!' which for me is absolutely ridiculous.

Another point conveniently forgotten, that not just Elucien needs to reject their bond if they want their ship to work, but also Azriel and Gwyn his future mate, and based on what we know about Azriel so far, I really don't see that happening. He wants the mating bond like his brothers.

I'm also fed up about the claims how this forbidden love would be such an epic love story. Firstly, this is not even forbidden love, because it would only take like 2 conversations to resolve the whole situation. If Rhys would feel they genuinely want to be together, he would do everything in his power to sort things out. And if you take into consideration Az's past and traumas, forbidden love would be the most harmful thing for him. It would take a huge toll on his mental health. He has so many issues and love alone will not able to heal them. I think his journey will be a dark one, much like Nesta's.

So if part of this fandom thinks Az's book will be him and Elain dodging the IC left and right and f/ck secretly, they will be in for a surprise...

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, it was sponsored by annoying instagram comments.

TED talks are always welcome 😁

I have to agree. A bond rejection would be so pointless and uninspired.

"Lucien, I don't want to be with you and I'm freeing you of our bond".

"Alright, I will respect your wishes".

That would be it. Despite what E/riels try to force as the narrative, Lucien has never pushed Elain to make a decision about the bond. He respects that he believes she wants nothing to do with him and stays away as a result, only coming around on holidays or when Rhys and Feyre invite him (considering he does work for the NC).

A rejected Elucien bond would look a lot like it currently does so what was the point of making them mates in the first place? In a novel, there's no point in adding something to the story just to prove it's a possibility when it doesn't actually add to the plot. How does a rejected Elucien mating bond really add to the plot in a meaningful way especially when we've never seen them try to interact with one another to prove they are not well matched?

If Elain and Lucien were spending time together and we could see that he was mistreating her or that they were poorly matched then we could understand why their bond didn't work and that they at least gave it consideration. But you don't give two main characters a bond in book 2, set it up so Elain isn't over the fiancé that left her (so she's not ready to address the bond), set it up so her sisters prevented them from interacting (so she can't address the bond), set it up that Elain first decides to have a rebound (which is all it can be since Az confirms they don't talk or see one another and this creates yet another roadblock for her not to deal with the bond) only to never have her talk to Lucien about their bond and reject it outright. We know she still has trauma so that's just adding to why she's not ready to deal with her bond or have a real conversation with him or her to know him. Just because Rhys's parents weren't matched (which they only figured out after getting together and the reason for that was because he was a cold, vicious man while she was soft and fiery) doesn't mean Elucien won't be and they definitely won't know for sure unless they try. SJM set up a bond between two heterosexual (in this scenario) main characters which in the authors words is the pinnacle of romance (if it turns out to be a soul mated bond) and if she's not going to attempt to explore what exists between them, what was the point? There are so many emotions that anyone with a bond is going to be feeling and for it to fizzle out without having them interact seems like such a waste. There's no tension in that, no raw emotion. (I added the heterosexual aspect because if there is any chance that Mor, a main character, was given a bond with a male, there would be a valid reason for a bond rejection because it wouldn't matter how special of a connection it was, the male could never be her ideal of peak romance. Same sex mating bonds are a possibility but as it stands, we haven't gotten hints that Mor has a bond with a female).

The fact that she's kept them apart for so long should be a hint to readers that she's building up to something big for them and having Feyre suggest "why make them mates?" in ACOWAR seems like an obvious misdirection to keep us wondering if they will get together rather than having it be so obvious. SJM is creating tension and uncertainty and that all makes sense if you want to be a good storyteller.

SJM didn't have Rhys casually slip in that Mates will always feel drawn to one another even if they reject the bond for no reason and that fact trumps Feyre wondering how the mating system works (especially when we know she doesn't grasp who Elain is or what she wants. Her reasons in questioning E/riel is based on them sitting quietly together and "how handsome they'd be" which are extremely shallow reasons. Knowing that even if you end up with someone else but you'll always be thinking of "the other guy" isn't all that romantic in a romance series.

There is not 4 books of buildup for E/riel. There is 4 books of buildup for an Elucien "will they or won't they?" accept their bond which was one of the MAJOR reveals in book 2 (not Az smiling politely at Elain, talking about how he and Cassian can fly while he stared at Mor's back with hunger elsewhere in the series) that we have yet to address and we've never really seen Elucien interact on a consistent scale. SJM didn't drop that bomb on readers then create the tension between Elucien after multiple books just to have them shake hands and walk away and she definitely didn't continue drawing attention to their similarities, changing Lucien's father to the High Lord of Day when we know Elain needs "Sunshine" for them to continue ignoring one another and not eventually realize how well matched they are (and nothing like Rhys's parents).

And you remind us of a good point. If Elain and Az would get together, that means there's a chance he finds his own mate someday (possibly Gwyn) and that means two characters would be together while always feeling drawn to others. I'm fairly positive none of us would want to marry someone in real life knowing our spouse feels a stronger pull to another at times.

Like you said, Fated Mates is a trope and when an author writes that trope it shouldn't be that surprising when their main characters end up with what they have decreed as the greatest possible love someone can be given.

[localvoidcat]

also holy shit there's a lot of stuff for your ml au FVGBHNJ (i tried maybe getting info abt it but omg there's so many posts and i dont feel like going through all of them /lh i just do not have patience). is there a post that sums up the au? bc i think someone has asked abt that before and i have no idea where that post would be FVGBHNJ /nf though bc i probably sound annoying -coward anon

i’ve been needing to write down my rewrite of the plot, so i’ll put it here!

this au starts the same as vol 1. mark gets the call, he goes to cesar’s house, he gets followed by the alternate, and he’s trapped in his room for three days.

however, he runs out of bullets while firing at the alternate, just before he’s able to take the last shot, and ends up taking the only other alternative: jumping out of his bedroom window. he breaks his leg from the impact (he did not think it through fully and just kind of. flung himself out), but he manages to get away from the house. he does go back in to get his cat, but then he books it out of the house and drives away.

the alternate, of course, hasn’t left his side. not wanting it to harm anyone around him, he decides to not involve anyone in it, so he basically ends up. kind of faking his death between the state of his bedroom and the refusal to go back to mandela. his family doesn’t really try to find him when he goes missing.

meanwhile, cesar survived his suicide attempt. the cameras in his house ended up broken, however, and between his mom being killed with what seems to be the same weapon he used, and mark’s disappearance, he’s listed as a suspect instead of the alternate. with his best friend and his mom supposedly dead, and the cops after him, he has no choice but to flee mandela county as well. things are not fun for this man

cut to seventeen years later. mark’s been living in bythorne, albeit under a different last name. alt cesar is still tormenting him, but he’s gotten used to it. everything’s going decent for him, until one day when he’s walking home from work and he ends up getting hit by a van.

the bps van, which is being driven by adam and jonah. after a quick discussion over whether or not they should try to hide the body, they realize he’s alive and decide to bring him back to their place and convince him not to sue them. or arrest them. or any number of things that usually happens when you hit someone with a car.

mark wakes up in the bps headquarters (which is just. a shabby apartment the three of them share) and hears people talking. these people end up being adam, jonah, and sarah, who mark hasn’t seen since she was 3. obviously she doesn’t recognize him at first considering how different he looks and that she was 3 at the time, but she eventually does. heathcliff siblings end up being reunited, but there’s still the issue of. well. adam hitting mark with a van.

his solution is, of course, letting mark join bps and get some of the money from their next job. begrudgingly, mark says yes.

the next job is the one from vol 2, which means that they have to go to mandela county. upon seeing cesar’s house, mark freaks out, but he still goes inside anyway.

cue to the argument between adam and jonah. just as adam’s about to go in the basement, mark stops him and makes him wait while mark explores the basement instead. adam’s pissed about this but he listens to mark (considering he’s like. a decade older than him) and goes back to the car with jonah.

once in the basement, mark is confronted by six, who reminds mark of his encounters with him during his childhood, as well as all of the alternate stuff in general. in a moment of panic, he shoots the tv and tries to get the hell out of the house.

all adam and jonah hear, however, is a gunshot. adam assumes mark killed himself and drives off, leading to another fight between adam and jonah, who doesn’t think they should have left him behind. they end up getting out of the car and physically fighting in the snow, before they finally decide to stop and go get mark. they’re both visibly messed up after this fight i think they do this every week. mandatory beat the shit out of each other day you know how it is

meanwhile, with mark, he tries to chase after the car, but struggles due to the fact that it’s a vehicle going at max speed, and his leg is still bad due to never getting it checked out when it was first harmed. it’s here that he’s confronted by an alternate, that takes his appearance and runs off.

when adam and jonah find “mark”, they chalk up his odd behavior and silence to just an alternate encounter, and go back to bythorne. actual mark is left having to walk all the way back until he can find a car.

when the three get back to bps, sarah can tell there’s something going on with mark, but adam and jonah tell her he’s definitely fine. it goes well for alt mark up until someone shows up at the door a day later.

it’s actual mark. upon seeing it, mark fires at alt mark with his gun. it’s made clear that one’s an alternate when it barely flinches at the bullet, and the four of them escape from the alternate, who’s started chasing them. they manage to get away for a little bit, just enough for mark to yell at adam for driving off without him, before alt mark shows back up again.

this time, it manages to inflict jonah with mad before running off. so now we’ve got mark, who now has at least two alternates on his trail, sarah, who’s only had her brother for about a week now, adam, who’s going to find out he’s an alternate very soon, and jonah, who’s now dealing with mad at the hands of alt mark.

in the meantime, vol 4 is playing out the same way it does in canon, with thatcher, dave, and evelin. evelin goes through the tapes, she gets fired, dave takes up the job at the church, all that stuff.

however, when dave encounters alt gabriel, it decides not to kill him, finding it better to force him to watch the downfall brought on by his own unknowing hand.

only problem is that humans aren’t really capable of looking at angels, even false ones, with the naked eye, and dave’s eyes end up melting out of his skull, as well as his mad getting much much worse. when thatcher finds him on church grounds, he’s understandably a mess, apologizing for something thatcher doesn’t understand and saying something about. impending doom. as one does. thatcher takes dave back to his place to try and help him, unaware of the fact that alt gabriel’s plan has already been set into motion.

because vol 4 ended on a cliffhanger, i don’t have too much of the plot after this point. all i can tell you is that mark finds out adam’s an alternate and does not take it well, jonah ends up living through his mad, alt mark makes sure to come back, bps interacts with thatcher and dave (mark punches thatcher at one point it’s really funny) and overall. shit’s fucked.

[p3nny1112121]

im going 2 ramble about my tmc prophet au :D

this au is based around Adam, Jonah, Dave and thatcher. fyi there will be oh so many spelling mistakes id like 2 apologise in advanced i am not proof reading this lawl

Adam: Adam is one of the main characters in this au. after finding out he was an alternate Gabriel decided to take advantage of Adams poor mental health and chose him as his "prophet". Adam was told his job was to find the real Mandela prophet and kill them or there Will be consequences. Adam (being soso scared agrees and makes a deal). in this time he becomes fairly close with Dave and thatcher, even working alongside eve at Mandela tech as BPS shut down. After finding out who the original prophet is Adam refuses to kill them, which leads to Gabriel basically holding him hostage in hell as a punishment. Until, Gabriel decides he had enough. he let Adam go home. but it wasn't really Adam, he killed off the rest of Adams humanity and sent back a shell of who he really was, it wasn't a hostile alternate, but it wasn't Adam. Not being able to do anything other than occasionally walk and stare. Jonah still kept him round, but the guilt of not being able to help Adam made thatcher and dave stay away.

Jonah: After dying, Jonah makes a deal with Gabriel that he would be their vessel. Jonah has no idea about Adams deal with Gabe. he then has to live on pretending that he's just another normal human in Mandela, until, Adam goes missing. from then on Gabriel seems to appear a lot more frequently, forcing Jonah to live in constant anxiety. They stop leaving the house, in fear of hurting any of his friends. Jonah decides to just tell his friends, hed stopped caring about what people thought of them. they were just tired of staying inside. Thatcher and Dave didn't care, Sarah cut off all contact. The anxiety never left, but having his friends understand helped. They never stopped trying to find the real Adam. Dave: The real prophet. Dave was revived by angel Gabriel, in hopes he would do better this time. Dave had one task and that was to find the archangels "prophet" and kill them. It didn't take long for Dave to figure out it was Adam, but he went on pretending he had no idea. lying to everyone was killing him inside, but its not like he could kill one of his best friends. Dave knew where Adam was when he mysteriously disappeared. She always knew where he'd gone, but he couldn't help. They became almost apathetic towards Adam, something inside of her stopped caring, they knew it was fucked up and wrong but a bit of him knew it was for the best. When "Adam" returned Dave refused to visit. She knew it wasn't her friend, and she didn't want to risk caring again. Thatcher: He, Sarah, Eve and mark are the only humans left in Mandela. He tried to make the best of everything, Thatcher tried so hard to fix it all but eventually gave up. He abandoned the MCPD and chose to spend more time with his friends. It wasn't a hard choice Mandela was beyond saving, but the guilt never left. Thatcher thought that becoming so close with Adam and Jonah was a horrible idea, he'd tried to hunt them down nearly every day for the past five years but, Dave thought it was a good plan so he went along with it. Thatcher and Jonah became very close, Thatch saw Jonah as his little brother. After Adam went missing, he watched Jonah change from a light hearted friendly kid to a snappy, depressed person he barely saw. He tried to fix everything, yet again but it just caused his own mental health to decline. Thatcher tried so hard to support Jonah after they told him about the deal, it wasn't exactly hard but more stressful. Seeing Jonah change back to the happy person make Thatcher himself feel better. When "Adam" returned, Thatch knew he wasn't the same. He (along with Dave) stopped seeing it. Every time Thatch saw Adam he felt his heart sink and he barely spoke. Thatcher knew his brother was dead.

Alot of this makes no sence sry just wanted 2 ramble . if you like the au ill talk more about it ^-^ lmk if i should talk abt the other chars

[empressawesomecoolness]

Doctor Who: The Ultimate Speedrun Marathon - Series 2 (2006)

Woah. I mean, what a Series! I didn’t know how Tennant and Piper would follow up Series 1, but they did a great job, not just in carrying over aspects from Series 1, but doing new things and carving out a new niche for the 10th Doctor. A lot of fun from all angles.

General Thoughts

I’ve always really loved David Tennant as an actor. Even before I properly started watching Doctor Who, he was my personal favorite Doctor (that might change over the course of this marathon, but that’ll come much later). Now having actually fully seen him in action as the 10th Doctor, I’m really happy that he met my expectations and more. He’s fun and snarky, same as McGann and Eccleston, but he brings this new sorta wide-eyed manic energy that one would probably expect from a 900+ year old time/space traveler. His look is also really fun and iconic, with pinstripe suits, long trench coats, and spiked-up hair. It compliments Tennant’s already tall and slim figure, giving 10 a lanky look reminiscent to a sort of alien Sherlock Holmes. The converse are a fun touch, too.

He’s definitely different from his immediate predecessor, but in a good way that makes sense given his new found attachment to Rose after Series 1 (or at least that’s my reading of it). He’s got a bit less angst, although it does peer through in good dramatic moments. Overall, Tennant’s able to juggle what made the recent previous Doctor’s special and memorable with his own acting sensibilities and personality. He really lends himself well to a character like the Doctor.

In companion news, Rose is just as strong and likable a character as ever. I knew new companions would show up eventually, so this whole Series I was just dreading the moment when it became clear that she’d be gone for good. Although I didn’t expect her departure to be THAT devastating! I mean holy fuck. Despite that ending though, Rose never stopped being an intensely compelling character, despite my assumption that her time as a companion was coming to an end.

As for the other campions, we only see Mickey return in this Series. When the Cybermen return to the show in a parallel universe, Mickey decides to stay behind there and help fight their invasion. It was another welcome surprise moment of character development from Mickey, especially when he finally realizes that he has a life and agency outside of Rose. However, when he’s able to return and help Rose and the Doctor fight the invading Cybermen and Daleks, it feels really truly earned on his end.

Also, how cool was it to see Sarah Jane Smith (played by Elisabeth Sladen) and K-9 (played by K-9) again?! That was a really cool and welcome surprise for me. It also avoids being a plot line of mere fan-service, since we get really cool insight into the life and mind of companions left behind by the Doctor decades before. However, they do eventually reconcile with the Doctor in their own bittersweet moments towards the episode’s end. Although, that reconciliation is a little bittersweet, given Rose’s fate at this Series’ end. I hope she gets something similar later in the show.

Favorite Episodes

Tooth and Claw

New Earth

School Reunion

The Girl in the Fireplace

Love and Monsters

Favorite Moments

Queen Victoria’s hemophilia being explained as a strain of alien lycanthropy was very funny and very Doctor Who. The running gag about Rose trying to get her to say the supposed “We are not amused” line was funny as hell too.

The 10th Doctor meets alien Satan.

Cassandra returning was a shock. I know she got a bit of a redemption arc in this Series’ premiere but I don’t really care. fuck her

I felt so clever picking up on the little references to Torchwood before they were properly revealed towards the end teehee. Making up for not noticing most of the Bad Wolf hints in Series 1 ig.

Madame de Pompadour getting a whole episode to herself in order to fight against evil French masquerade nightmare robots from the future was a welcome surprise.

Alright, that about wraps up everything I wanted to say about Series 2. A great Series itself and an amazingly solid start to Tennant’s iconic tenure as the 10th Doctor. Now, onto Series 3.

[ireallymisscoffee]

relationships

due to the fact that we haven't really developed any until recently, i never quite had to dive into the mind of joel + relationships. sure, i've always kinda shipped him with bill and tess, but like before hbo finding either char was impossible and it was even harder to get that 1 tess that existed to feel the same due to the game kinda just implying, ya know? everybody we wrote with was looking for protection, so my joel never quite got to develop the shippy side of him.

that's been changing, so here we go. this'll mix game + show as per usual by now. both portray joel similarly so like, ye.

we meet joel as a workaholic of sorts, the kind of father who's definitely not planned to be a single-dad & who's overwhelmed by the responsibility of raising a child, keeping a roof over their heads, keeping his child happy, making sure his child has everything they need, but loves unconditionally. we meet him needing to be woken by his teenage daughter cause he most likely worked late & collapsed & doesn't hear his alarm in the morning.

we see sarah making breakfast, surely not only because it's his birthday. she makes him drink orange juice 'for his health' and joel forgot to pick up the pancake mix. broken promise, probably one of many. i mean dude has his shirt on the wrong way around. he's so stressed, work never quite goes the way it should & he's barely getting by with the money he does make. he gets home in the night even on his birthday, forgets cake. another broken promise, 2 in 1 actually. cake + being home at 9.

he gives everything he has, but still fails. then sarah dies & it only strengthens that feeling. he had one job, he failed.

fast forward. he said it himself, he joined that group going to boston to protect tommy, not because he wanted to. protector. that's what he sees himself as. enter tess. same thing, only that she doesn't leave him, which is why he opens up to her at least some. again, though, he's the protector. they do share a bed & all, but it's ..distant. joel doesn't want to love, he doesn't allow himself to. partially due to grief still lodged deeply within him, but also simply because he's not used to it. i firmly believe he didn't have anybody since sarah's mother.

he didn't have the time or mental capability. his brain was in protector dad mode. tess loves joel & that's most likely the only reason they get to develop this kind of relationship they had. joel likely didn't see himself as boyfriend or lover. protector. someone hurts her, he goes rambo on them etc. over the years, i think she did manage to open his heart a little bit, but joel is still terrified of caring again, because he knows he'll lose them eventually & that fear is unbearable, so he tries to keep tess at a safe distance emotionally.

ellie is the one who eventually opens his heart to the world. it's her who breaks down that wall he built around himself the night sarah died & that opens joel for a lot of possible future relationships. it's stil not easy, because he does still see himself as protector & that step to 'it's ok to care about others', 'it's ok to want something for yourself' & 'it's ok to let people into your life' takes time & effort, but like...

when joel loves, he does so with all of him. his entire being. his whole-ass fricken' heart. unconditionally. through thick & thin. it's such pure, wonderful love on the side of 'i will murder everybody who looks at you wrong'.

[xherry7816]

is it more practical to write in one really big post or break it up ??? anyways back 2 the SONIC PRIME insipered AU

im not sure what this line thing on the side does but my text looks smaller so okay :D

the PRIME EMPIRE universe thingy is the first universe KAI enters where UNAGAMI is like some virus infecting cities and hunting down living things and the only way to survive is to convince/trick the program into thinking you arent living (plants are an exception i mean things that are like people pretty much). i havent really thought much avout the disguising factors but i guess id say the rules are bright colors (becauseliving things arent really ever bright blue or neon), cover your face (cool mask agenda) and at this point in the universe dont have a 'human name'. the virus learns so eventually it knows if something has some sort of a human name so whether its living or not (eg lamp can be called sarah but its not living) it will go for it. so in this case i was gonna give all the ninja names based off their weapons so example NYA would go by SAI (daggers) bc im pretty sure thats what she weilds or even if he doesnt he does now bc its my AU and she can wield them if he wants :) and another example is JAY going by (nun)CHUCK which i think is funny bc idk CHUCK and it kinda suits him. the ninja never existed in this universe (will be the same in most universes) because KAI was never there to solidify the team and even as a trio they eventually went their seperaye ways but always keeping in touch whixh it why they all came together during the first initial attack of the virus. NYA however because of this joined the ninja much later as did LLOYD.

im giving the ninja here happier backstories than they did before just so that it feels like the virus hits harder???? if that makes sense, so like example the SMITH parents never went and disappeared, LLOYD'S father isnt a snake bitten evil villain, ZANE (while still a robot) wasnt orphaned as a child and while his mom was still sick COLE doesnt end up losing her to the illness (but to the virus)

i dont know whatd be the cause of the virus bc instead of being some emotional thing UNAGAMI isnt real or like as real but hes real evil this time and idk how to make that.

gettint caught by the virus simply means becoming information for it so that it can learn whixh is why it becomes more dangerous each person it consumes, the victims body itself either goes missing entirely or becomes like a doll/puppet under the programs command

THATS all i got i think ???? i think this AU is cool and i want people 2 think its cool so it just doesnt die as an idea i only tell 2 my onw friend who doesnt even like ninjago TT so hi my name is CHERRY heres my AU so far and i think its cool :))

[gaycey-sketchit]

(Gary anon) And considering how many subsections of Pokemon exist, clashing of opinions isn't limited to just the main series' numbered gens or mechanics. (In some ways, it does make it 'easier' to stay a corner than constantly being thrust into the equivalent of town square like more niche franchises. We can all be happy about a new gen, and then quickly go back to our spaces until more news) Something that gives the fandom some fuel to play with, but without the sense of egotism and

.

(Part 2) entitlement. Though I do wonder what would resonate more, Adult Ash's design or his voice? (Plus a whole new protagonist would allow them to do different things they couldn't really do with Ash, despite the many barriers he broke. It'd take time, but with the right care, they can make their own legacy) Definitely not against more Chronicle-like episodes, it's just Gary in particular I don't see being a upfront mainstay. Works better in short bursts.

(Part3) (I'd love more Ash/Gary interactions, but stuff like Oak, Tracey, Dawn, Goh and Project Mew were a nice way to give him more sides. Him staying with the same group that has one goal for too long kinda hinders that, imo) Since they have a history, Goh and Tokio deciding to be a traveling duo would be a good endgame for both. Whether they stay with Project Mew or go on their own. (If what I'm hearing is true, and it seems like it, Alain is about to fed to a shark instead)

(Part 4) Giving it some thought for a long while, I get why they did this to avoid redundancy. No repeat final matchups. (It really just depends on long the PWC is, I doubt the Mew search will be as long) It is the only battle format they never fought in, I just don't know if it will stand out other than just being them battling again. (As we discussed, a 1v1 after possibly winning the PWC would leave a bad taste in the mouth to the fandom if Gary slams Ash a 3rd time after a big win like this)

(Part 5) (And even if it were Blastoise/Umbreon vs Pikachu, Ash winning really wouldn't mean much with this current win streak) Since it's been 20 years since that Johto fight, it'd be nice if they had a climax that felt more "them" than another game reference.(Ending JN with Ash's first rival just seems symbolic. With a tie to show they still got work to do) But for a 6v6, we'd need 2.5-3 episodes at best. (Yeah, it was 4 technically. Unless you want to count the Arcanine/Bayleef race as a 5th)

Yeah.

It does make things easier in some ways, yeah. And I honestly do my best to ignore what 90% of the fandom is saying anyway, I only really care what my friends and mutuals think about anything.

Yeah. I wonder, would they recast for an older Ash? Or would the current VAs still do it? I can't imagine Rica Matsumoto being removed from a role she's done for 25 years (and I've heard recasting a character while their current VA is alive is considered an insult in Japan). (And while I have... Opinions about Sarah Natochenny, I think her voice acting is fine and her Ash, particularly back in Battle Frontier and DP, sounded older anyway.)

True. While parting with Ash would hurt, a new protagonist with a different personality could have their own path to take things in a new direction.

Fair. While he may spend some time with the Project Mew team, I fully expect him to eventually go his own way, like he parted with the research teams he worked with on Sayda and in Sinnoh.

Yeah, Goh and Tokio ending up traveling together would be a good way for them to depart when Journeys draws to a close.

Oh, well RIP Alain then I guess. XY fandom might not be too pleased about that but I'm fine with it, I never saw XY so I can't say I cared too much about him in the first place.

Yeah, fair. Avoiding redundancy is good.

Yeah, I suppose so. Guess we'll see how it goes.

If a 3v3 is the best we can hope for at this point, it's what I'll hope for for sure. I feel like it'd be enough to stand out by virtue of being the first real battle between them in so many years.

Yeah, very much agreeing with that. A battle that's distinctly them, Ash facing his first rival again, would be the perfect way to conclude Journeys. Journeys had so many callbacks, why not come full circle? And a draw would be the best way for it to end--they still have plenty to learn on their respective paths.

Good to know I didn't forget any, then! But wow, they really only battled four times and one was just basically just the first battle from Pokemon Yellow. Here's to them getting to battle a fifth time!

[modernmagdalene]

Saint and Crystal Associations Part 2

Once again, I’m posting this as a potential resource for other Christian witches or Christian mystics (whatever you call yourself). These are my own personal associations, not official associations of any Christian denominations, so if they don’t feel right for you feel free to use different crystals with different saints. Thanks and enjoy.

Saint Francis of Assisi --> Amber

Francis is best associated with Amber. While not technically a crystal it still is used in a lot of crystal magic. Francis is a very complex saint who helps with a lot of different things: voluntary poverty, helping the poor, antiwar, and oneness with nature. Amber is very old and connected deeply to the earth. It helps with grounding, clarity, patience, wisdom, dissolves negativity, eliminates fear, and balances emotions. All things Francis needed to leave his life of privilege behind and follow God. I think it represents much of who Francis is and can help support the same virtues that Francis represents. 

Saint Brigid --> Opal

St. Brigid would be associated with Opal. Brigid is a saint that is very connected to the goddess Brigid. Their stories are extremely intertwined that you can’t really talk about without the other. Both are connected to fire, love, and hope and that’s all things Opal is connected with as well. I also personally tend to associate Opal with the divine feminine and Brigid connection to a goddess makes that work as well.

Saint Julian of Norwich --> Moonstone

Julian of Norwich I said in a comment that I associated with Lapis Lazuli but then relaized I was already using that crystal with St. Perpetua and Felicity. So I did some more research and decided that Moonstone would work really well for Saint Julian of Norwich. Moonstone is obviously associated with Lunar magick and the moon is also regularly associated with femimine energy. Which works wonders with St. Julian who often depicted God as femimine. One of the things that made her contraversal. St. Julian of Norwich had visions and was a prolific writer. Moonstone helps those seeking wisdom and strengthens psychic abilities. St. Julian of Norwich is also a known cat lover so have moonstone carved into the shape of a cat is even better. 

Saint Mary MacKillop --> Obsidian

(Trigger Warning Mentions of sexual abuse in this.)

Mary MacKillop is the first saint of Australia and one of my favorites! Mary MacKillop reported a priest who was abusing children and not longer after a friend of this priest used his connections to get her excommunicated. Her excommunication was eventually lifted. I have always admired her strength and resilience. That’s why I chose obsidian for her. Obsidian shines a light on the negativity and clears it away, helping us to choose the path leading towards light and love. It is also a protective stone as it used to be used for weapons. If you need to fight the devil obsidian is up there with tourmaline as an excellent crystal to clean house.     

Saint Raphael the Archangel --> Ametrine

St. Raphael the Archangel is another favorite of mine. If you use a Protestant Bible you might not have read about him. Raphael is featured in the Book of Tobit which is only in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles. The Book of Tobit is an epic love story between Tobias and Sarah that also features thievery, exile, and fights with demons. Where Michael and Gabriel tend to appear to humans briefly then leave. Raphael, disguised as a human, travels with Tobias throughout the whole book. Raphael is most associated with healing and I connect him to the crystal ametrine. Ametrine is associated with healing, harmony, strength, balancing physical and spiritual life, and aids in contacting spirit guides. This works with Raphael’s connections to healing. Furthermore, Raphael’s role guiding Tobit and being a spiritual being working on earth makes ametrine perfect in helping to connect with him. Use this stone and ask him to help find balance in your practice and assist you with finding spiritual guides.

Saint Rita --> Smoky Quartz

St. Rita is the patron saint of impossible tasks. She is someone I rely on when I really need to overcome an obstacle or problem in my life. She is also prayed to when someone has a deadly illness or serious problem helping with things that seem impossible to deal with is just her jam. Because of this I associate her most with smoky quartz. This crystal is super powerful and is a great grounding and balancing stone. It absorbs negative energy like a sponge (because of this it should be cleansed often-ish use your best judgement). It’s so useful and can even cleanse other crystals. It keeps all the negativity away from you which is something that one really needs when dealing with impossible situations.

Saint Mary Magdalene --> Celestite

Mary Magdalene is one of my favorite witchy women in the Bible. She wasn’t scared away like the other disciples when Christ was crucified, she was the first to preach about the resurrection, and was active in preaching and teaching others about Christ. One of my favorite stories about her comes from the Orthodox tradition where she was preaching to Emperor Tiberius Caesar about Christ and turned an egg red to prove to the emperor that Christ’s story and power was true. I associate Mary Magdalene most with Celestite. Celestite raises spiritual vibrations, promotes spiritual growth, and aides in communication with the spiritual realm. This crystal also boosts self-worth and self-expression, all things Mary Magdalene had in abundance. Mary Magdalene also seems to be the most connected to the spiritual world out of all the apostles (with the exception of maybe John) so this crystal is perfect for her.

Saint Joan of Arc --> Bloodstone 

St. Joan is a warrior and protector. I also consider her a trans and/or genderfluid saint who will naturally protect trans and genderfluid peoples. Because of this I associate her most with bloodstone. Bloodstone promotes justice and strength, it is also good for healing and renewal, but bloodstone is probably best known for boosting spells and banishing spirits. Or as I prefer to use it, boosting protection spells and banishing TERFs.

Saint Francis de Sales --> Kyanite

St. Francis de Sales is one of my favorite saints purely because he is the patron saint of writers and I am someone who greatly enjoys writing. Kyanite is the crystal I use with this saint. It promotes creativity and also dispels negativity aka those negative thoughts that tell you that you can’t write. It’s also supposed to sharpen your focus which can be especially helpful with writing or any creative work, especially if you are easily distracted like me.

Saint Anthony of Padua --> Amazonite

St. Anthony was one of my grandmother’s favorite saints and probably the saint I use the most in day to day life. He is the patron saint of lost items. He was a devout priest and taught students from a book of psalms. He once tried to preach to people who refused to listen to him. He instead decided to preach to the fish who all started to gather near the shore to listen to him. When people saw this they decided they should listen too. So you know when in doubt preach to fish I guess. Anyway, I associate St. Anthony with amazonite. Amazonite helps sharpen the mind, aids communication and promotes good luck all of which are great attributes for learning and teaching, finding lost items (that’s the good luck bit), and aiding communication could help you talk to people or fish, your call. 

Saint Valentine --> Rose Quartz 

St. Valentine did a lot but he is most associated today with marrying couples in the Christian church during the height of Roman persecution. So naturally I associate him with rose quartz, a crystal that promotes love and fertility, dispels loneliness, opens the heart to compassion, and even strengthens faith. The perfect stone for this romantic saint. 

Saint Scholastica --> Citrine 

St. Scholastica was the twin sister of St. Benedict, and was the founder of the women’s benedictine order. As someone who went to a benedictine college I have a fondness for her. If you are a storm witch in particular I think this might be the saint for you. At one point Benedict and his monks visit Scholastica and her nuns. Scholastica didn’t think she would live long enough to see her brother again after this meeting so begged him to stay the night, but Benedict didn’t want to spend the night outside his monastery and told her he couldn’t. So Scholastica prayed and a massive thunderstorm suddenly came making it unsafe for Benedict and his monks to travel. And here is my favorite bit:

“Realizing what had happened, Benedict reproached her: "What have you done, my sister?” Scholastica answered simply, "I asked a favor of you, and you refused to listen to me. So I asked my God, and He, more generous than you, granted my request.” Once again Scholastica’s pleas won the favor she was seeking.” 

With Scholastica I associate the crystal citrine. Citrine is all about manifesting change, protection, creativity, and success all things she needed to live the life she did.

Saint Dymphna --> Blue Lace Agate

St. Dymphna is one of my favorite saints and she is one I utilize often. She is most associated with mental and emotional illnesses. If you are a spoonie witch this is the saint for you. Because of this I associate her most with Blue Lace Agate, which helps people express themselves (helpful when going to therapy or a doctor) and also helps with dealing with any sorts of fears or anxiety. (Reminder: That utilizing this saint and crystal is meant as a prayerful way to ask for help dealing with mental and emotional illness. It is not a replacement for therapy or meds.)

St. Sara-la-Kali --> Jasper

St. Sara-la-Kali is the patroness of the Romani people. She is said to have helped the Three Marys of the Bible arrive safely in Gaul after she had a vision of them arriving. She used her dress as a raft and helped the women get to shore despite the tumultuous waves. She was also extremely generous and often collected alms for the poor. I associate her most with jasper. A crystal native to Romania it aids in peace and wisdom and also is particularly helpful during times of transition by providing stability and protection. It also supports perseverance and acceptance, something we definitely need Sara's help with right now.

[hmspogue]

Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that. 

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me. 

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused. 

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions? 

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught. 

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you. 

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike. 

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong. 

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what? 

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting. 

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏 

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time. 

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah. 

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident). 

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft. 

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug. 

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first. 

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.  

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me. 

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

[acourtofthought]

This whole debate about who's gonna help Bryce and the IC because Sarah confirmed that CC3 will build the plot for acotar 5 is so stupid. I doupt Gwyn or Elain will make that big of an apperance.

Y'all forget that the once person who already did make such an impact in the crossover is Azriel. Sarah didn't have to make him be the one to find Bryce and bring her to Feysand. It could've been Cassian or literally anyone else. She also didn't have to connect AZRIEL'S DAGGER to one of CC' big plots and make it Gwyndion's partner, but she did. He'll most likely make a big apperance in CC. Not Elain or Gwyn.

I think it is a fun theory that Gwyn might help the IC and Bryce, but I don't think it will actually happen. I know that she and Merril are currently making researchs about the other worlds and stuff, I doupt this will make a great impact. Maybe we'll have something like Nesta bringing up Merril and Gwyn and she'll get those informations from them for her.

Same with Elain. She has seer powers that she can't control and that's... all. The IC don't like to include her in serious business. If she really was that important, she would've been at least mentioned in the crossover, but she wasn't. Nesta was there, so why not Elain too?

I'm sorry but if that role is going to confirm who's book is next, then el/riels already lost. Idk about you but gwynriels and eluciens have been saying for a long time that we'll get Azriel's book. It shouldn't be "Gwyn vs Elain", it should be "Azriel vs Elain", because those 2 are going to be MCs

You make some really good points and now that I think about it......while Gwyn and Merrill's research may be somewhat important......their research is theories about other dimensions and other worlds. Bryce is literally from another world. And she's already done the whole time travel thing. So while research and theories are important, it won't necessarily trump that of someone who is actually from another world and has already gone through space and time. If anything, I would think Nesta would play an even bigger role than maybe Gwyn because of her connection to the Harp and what it can do. But you're right. The biggest mystery is not really so much about what the research will tell us but of what will happen with TT. Will Az keep it? Will he give it up? Is he somehow connected to Bryce and Ruhn because it's in his possession?

And SJM did say that CC3 will have meaning to the future of the ACOTAR series but not because it will indicate who is more important to the future of the ACOTAR series or who it will further hint at as endgame potential. I think her words were something along the lines of "it will be important to the characters of ACOTAR because if Bryce has now managed to cross space and time to enter Prythian, than that means it's going to be a concern for Rhys and everyone as to who else will be able to enter their world."  Meaning I’m betting the Asteri are going to eventually show up in Prythian after traveling through time and space once they realize Bryce was able to.   So yeah, I think there's a lot of characters that will play a "contributing" role in CC3 but no one will be quite as impacted as say Az and what it means for the future of he and TT. But the big showdown has never been and never will be between Gwyn and Elain in terms of the CC3 book. I like both of their characters and I love Elain but I think it's ridiculous to try to turn them in to the heroes of the crossover. They are definitely important to the ACOTAR world but in the CC world they are both just tiny little fish in a giant pond.