#so one wine cooler is the limit

[harmcityherald]

I can attest that the moon is grey. Went there last night. Remind me not to do that again. Paying the price today. Laughable but uncomfortable. Part of me needed it. part of me is spanking myself. Part of me don't care what nobody thinks.

What the hell did I eat? whatever it was it was unacceptable. That was after we splurged and bought ourselves take out last night. You don't know how much you miss those sloppy burgers and fries until you go a few years without them.

alcohol was the mistake. One damn wine cooler lol. But mixing that with my long list of meds of course I know Is complete fuckery. So its a rough start waking up at 2 in the afternoon. Throwback to my old days.

[lulureadsandwrites]

Hmmm.... How would Alastor realize he has begun to feel a sort of... affection for a reader? (Basically he's developing feelings and he realizes it).

hii this is my first work for alastor so forgive me if it's a little ooc and if you guys have any tips or requests, please let me know :))

Alastor Falling For the Reader

pairing; alastor x (gender not specified) reader warning; ooc alastor (probably), a little bit of angst if you squint, cannabalism (its alastor what do you expect), blood, no dialogue (is that a warning?) perspective; 2nd person, in the eyes of alastor though if that makes sense?

so you first joined the hotel because of charlie

you weren't a parent per se to charlie, but you stepped up after lilith left to god knows where

(literally, god knows.)

and when lucifer was quite neglectful

so after getting you settled into your own room charlie wanted to introduce you to everyone

she had called a meeting to everyone in the main parlour

the reason alastor was so interested at you at first wasn't your kindness, or charisma, or even your charming smile

as much as he thought it was nice

it was your colour pallet

yes, as weird as it was, you were the only one in the hotel with blues and purples in your hair, outfit and makeup.

since the vision spectrum of a deer was limited to cooler colours and hell was filled with reds, blacks, and pinks it was refreshing for him to see something other than black and white

after a deft introduction from himself and quite a sloppy one from the others should he add, you all were spread around the bar drinking your respected drinks

and after a solid and quite warm welcome, you headed to your room and off to bed

the reason you and alastor grew close was because of your shared love of jazz music

there was no one else in the hotel who enjoyed the genre so it made you a bit more tolerable to him

as the weeks turned into months, you had grown close with most of the original people in the hotel

though, you couldn't find yourself getting close with angel

nothing against him of course, it was just hard to find common interest with him

personally, i don't see alastor falling easily, so it would take a lot, and i mean A LOT so idk what you did but congratulations

as yours and alastors platonic relationship grew, so did the want to be even closer with you

he was very up in your personal space and you couldn't say that you didn't like it

when he realised he wanted a romantic relationship with you he short circuited

let me expand, you two were enjoying dinner in one of the dinning rooms that had come with building up the new hotel

alastor was enjoying his weekly venison heart and you were indulging in some red wine and VERY MUCH COOKED deer

you had told him something about texture issues but he wasn't really paying attention to the words that came out of your mouth

he was more so just watching the way you slightly smiled while talking to him

anyways, as you had finished your meals, you had realised alastor had some blood dribbling from his mouth

you had tried to get him to wipe it off but he couldn't quite get it

so you had walked up in front of him and wiped it off with your thumb

not just that you had licked your thumb clean

in a twisted way, that was just really attractive to him

as soon as he realised his attraction to you he had to quickly excuse himself

after these newfound emotions that he had registered as love he ignored you

yeah, probably not the best move on his end but to be fair, he had never fallen in love before so that was his immediate reaction

he saw his affection for you as a weakness

you tried to talk to him?

oh apologies he has that thing he has to do since he's an overlord

and it was frustrating you, a lot

after a full week of him ignoring you, he decided to get advice from the best person he knew

rosie

when rosie had told him off for ignoring you, he knew he fucked up

not sure why that's would it took

she had told him that love shouldn't be seen as a weakness but a tool that he could utilise to make himself stronger too

basically out for love but in rosie's style lol

so when he came back to the hotel, he went to your room and knocked on the door

you had reluctantly let him in to explain himself

and while he didn't outrightly admit his feelings for you, it was pretty obvious

after a kiss on your hand, and a very long spiel of how sorry he was, (bro is down BAD i swear) you had forgiven him

now the next hurdle was trying to bring himself to ask if he could court you.

AHH FIRST HAZBIN HOTEL POST!!! PLEASE LEAVE MORE REQUESTS I LOVE THEM <3333

[luvfy0dor]

“Let's Cool Down" ♡⁠˖” ; Seasonal Scenarios! ੈ✩‧₊˚ Chuuya Nakahara x GN!Reader

Warnings; None

Description; Vacation house activities with Chuuya!

A/n; Lately I've been starting to utilize my queue. Also I think I'm flopping because I pick whack ass times to post. But anyways, there are some parts in this where I am just yapping away tbh

★ Chuuya likes sitting in a hot tub with his partner, a glass of wine sitting on the edge while he talks with you. He also likes late night ocean swims and teasing you.

ೃ⁀➷

The soft feeling of the hot tubs jets against your back almost made you shiver. It felt nicer than you remembered from the other day and gave you a bit of a pleasant surprise as you settled down on one of the built in seats, your lover sitting right across from you. He gave you a relaxed smile, which you returned as you let your feet float up into his lap. One of his hands rested on your ankle, the other holding onto the wine glass he brought with him. His lips became stained with the red liquid as he sipped on it, the soft glow cascading onto his skin from the fairy lights decorating the gazebo of the vacation home. He had rented it out in hopes of relaxing with you for a few days, relatively limited on vacation time because of the nature of his job.

"Is it comfortable?" He asks, his voice as soft as the sound of the bubbles coming from the hot tub's jets. You hum, nodding your head as you made yourself comfortable in the body of warm water. The ocean was visible from the homes porch, the soft waves crashing onto the shore with the moon reflecting onto them. It added to the comforting atmosphere the two of you had created with one another. He held out his glass before speaking and breaking the vocal silence. "Do you want a sip?" He asked. You shook your head in denial briefly. "I'm alright, thank you." You said with a small smile. His arm retracted and brought the drink to his lips. "You were starin' at me so I thought you might want some. Is something on your mind?" The way he cared for your well-being and simply tried to make you feel better even at the slightest signs of discomfort, real or imaginary, made your heart warm a little. "No, sorry, I just zoned out." You reassured him.

He smiled at you and reached out to hold your hand under the water. Your conversations over the next minutes were occupied by plans of the coming days and memories of similar activities. As you talked with one another, exchanging small laughs and giggles, you could feel your body heating up. That and the scent of the chlorine could make you light headed. You couldn't help but feel a bit dizzy and as though your body had become lighter and more buoyant in the water. Chuuya noticed this again and took your hand, gently pulling you upward. "You look like your heatin' up, darlin'.." he says, pulling you closer to his body and stroking your back gently. "Yeah, I definitely am" you say, taking a deep breath and laughing a bit.

"I know something that could cool ya' down." He says, looking over your shoulder at the dark ocean. Your gaze followed his as your turned your head and upper body. "Hmm...is that really the best idea? I mean, it's really dark- and you know, the winds already cooling me down pretty well." You say while turning back to him. He nods and grabs your hands gently, interlocking both of your fingers. "Well yeah, but it could be fun! Do you really think I'd ever let my darlin' get swept away by the ocean?" He asks, a small grin on his face. You playfully roll your eyes and step out of the hot tub, your boyfriend following suit. The both of you walk down to the start of the sandy beach, him grabbing your hand and running down towards the water. You stumbled at first, but eventually we're able to keep up with him, both of you eventually getting to the water and being forced to slow down. You went in to your knees before your initial running came to a halt.

"Do you feel any cooler?" Chuuya asks, his lips tugged into a loving grin as he scooped some water up in his hands and splashed it at you. You laughed and splashed him back, yours was a lot more forceful, making him back up a bit with a chuckle. "A lot cooler!" You say, talking over the loud sound of the waves. The deeper the two of you went out, the closer you stayed to him. The waves were now crashing against your waist, Chuuyas grip on you allowing his ability to keep you upright and from being toppled over. The wind blew through his long hair and the moon draped a beautiful glow over his pale skin. He looked so gorgeous. He rotated his body to face you, his wet and dripping hand emerging from the water to gently cup your cheek. His thumb caressed your cheek bone as his face got closer to yours. "You're so... indescribable." He mumbles, pulling you in for a gentle kiss on the lips. Your cheeks heated up as you kept him close with your hand on the back of his neck.

You only broke the kiss for a couple of seconds at a time, pulling each other right back in. You could feel Chuuyas smile plastered on his lips against yours while they moved together. He squeezed your hip through there swimwear before his hand slid over the curve of your ass before lifting you up. You gasped briefly in surprise but you quickly adjusted through breathy laughs. Your hands were on his cheeks as you both kept eachother close. He pulled away after a moment and started to let you down before dropping you completely. You fell into the water and could already hear his laughter while submerged. You quickly resurfaced, your hair and entire body soaked now in the cold liquid. You wiped the salt water from your eyes before playfully smacking him on the shoulder. "You can't just drop me like that, Chuuya!" You say through snickers and deep breaths. He rubs your back, while simultaneously guiding you back closer to the shore, both of you grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm real sorry, can you forgive me?" He asks, holding you close. You place your pointer finger on your chin, pretending to be deep in thought over the matter. "I guess." You tease, leaning into his side lovingly. He smiles and kisses your cheek. "Thanks my love, you know I would never intentionally do such a thing." He says with a smirk. You just roll your eyes and nod along. "Totally."

[kyra-mana]

DnD with resident lover

Mother Miranda

Miranda was busy going over a few emails at a table in the library. She was reading a particularly long one, as she fiddled with the corvin ring on her finger. It was Saturday, and she'd normally be going over emails at home, or in her office. But, Miranda required a cold environment and the school's AC was out. Her house wasn't much better. Her daughter was being loud and she couldn't focus. So she called Donna to babysit while she worked. The library would be a cooler place due to open walls and high ceilings, but she would also have guaranteed peace for it was the weekend and the library was a naturally quiet place to begin with. Sadly her peace didn't last long. She kept having to re-read a paragraph because of some incessant giggling. Huffing, she angrily slapped her laptop shut and stuffed it into its case. She quickly stood and stormed over to the source of the sound. Peering into a nook she'd long forgotten about, the sight she was met with, shocked her. In the nook she saw you and Mia? In a room that was coated wall to wall in papers. You two looked so engrossed in the mess that you didn't even notice her presence. Miranda smiled, not a cruel smirk, but an actual smile. She merely walked into the nook and sat down on the floor next to you and Mia, announcing her presence. Two pairs of eyes locked onto Miranda. Your gaze is full of embarrassment, and Mia's full of shock. She raised a brow and smirked.

"What? Can't I see what my students are up to?" You stammered for a response and Mia simply looked annoyed.

"Seriously?" Mia quipped.

"Do you have a problem with my presence, Miss Baker?" Mia rolled her eyes and looked back at the mess of papers on the floor. 

After a few seconds of silence Miranda spoke up.

"Dungeons and Dragons?" Mia nodded "Interesting." She stood and headed for the exit of the nook, pausing at the door frame. "I'll be joining you two next session. Every Dungeon needs a master." Miranda smirked and left, leaving you and Mia stunned.

Alcina Dimitrescu

The music professor was actively storming her way into the library, her frustration palpable. It was a particularly hot Saturday on campus. Alcina usually didn't mind the heat, since her daughters often ran cold in their youth, so the heater was always on in the penthouse. But, the air duct that led to her office was in need of repair, so the atmosphere in the room was particularly thick. She entered the library, setting a stack of papers and a glass of her favorite rouge drink on a table. She sat down with a soft groan. Oh, how she hated grading papers. She's a music teacher, hands on learning is much simpler and by far one of the best ways to learn. But, alas, the headmistress has her orders. Pulling out her half moon glass from its leather case, that sat in her pocket, pushing it up the bridge of her nose. She graded these papers for a while, before a soft giggle caught her attention. She ignored it for the most part until the constant whispers halted her train of thought. She set down the paper she was grading. Standing as she grabbed her glass of wine. She sneaked around the library until her honey colored eyes glanced at something in a small hidden nook. The sight is both adorable and intriguing. You and Mia were sitting on the floor, walls lined with graph paper, a wide smile on both your faces. You had a bad habit of getting on her nerves, but she couldn't deny your determination. Alcina cleared her throat.

"Miss Baker, Miss Lover." You and Mia jumped at her voice.

"Professor Dimitrescu." You stammered. She chuckled at your flustered state and removed her glasses, stuffing them back in the case and into her jacket pocket. 

"So, what is this mess that has you two holed up in the campus library on a Saturday afternoon?" Mia smirked, looking over at you.

"It's called Dungeons and Dragons. It's a fantasy game that only uses pen and paper. The only limit is your imagination." Mia smiled as she held up her character sheet. Alcina hummed in response.

Her eyes scanned over the floor. Heavily analyzing the stacks of graph and lined paper. They eventually set their sights on your character sheet. She read the paper. Something was vaguely familiar about it. It was a female vampire, her hair was short, lushish black curls, amber colored irises, milky white skin. Looking over she read the height and name of the character. “9’6” and “Alicia Dimitri.” She shrugged it off and looked back over at Mia.

"Interesting. Explain to me." She sat down at a nearby chair facing the two of you. 

Mia was busy explaining everything, your soul had returned to your body by this point. You added quick quips and comments into the conversation. Confusion slowly crept up into her eyes, but she saw how invested you were in this. It warmed her heart seeing you so happy. She shook her head and raised her hand to silence Mia. 

"Thank you. I shall leave this up to you two for the time being. But, it's nice to see students actually spending time with each other in person, rather than on that dreadful technology." Alcina sneered, but it was soon replaced with a smile as she stood. Tussling your hair before leaving back for her earlier spot in the library. Pulling out her glasses as she returned to grading the assignments. She may not understand the game, but she so does enjoy seeing you so joyful.

Bela Dimitrescu

Bela was wandering throughout the library. Looking for a book to enjoy her free afternoon with, which was rare due to her many responsibilities as student council president, and over preparer. But, there was no test due, and no student required help because of your overwhelming desire to please her. Her eyes gazed shelf after shelf, looking for a book you recommend to her after a particular night of passion. 'Harry Potter.' The way your eyes lit up as you described and rambled on about the plot. She'd never admit it, but your smile always made her heart flutter and cheeks burn. Her eyes passed over the book as she was trapped in her thoughts. She shook her head, removing herself from her train of thought. She plucked the book from the shelf, 'The Order of the Phoenix.' She groaned at the realization of it not being the first in the series.

"It must be checked out." She huffed angrily and shoved back onto the shelf. 

As she stormed towards the exit of the library, she heard a familiar voice whispering in the small hidden room. She stopped and approached the entrance. She peered inside the nook. Her eyes gazing over the papers that coated the room's walls. They eventually land on you and Mia as you guys sit in the middle of the room. They haven't noticed her yet, you two seem invested in the game. Her eyes locked onto a paper, which she knew was your character sheet by your terrible handwriting. All she makes out in the chicken scratch is, 'Bella.' You rose onto your knees, raising one hand into the air, curling your fingers into a claw, the other being occupied by a book that you read allowed to Mia. Her eyes filled with wonderment as she realized what you two were playing. Dungeons and Dragons. It was a favorite of hers when she was younger, before the incident with the university's headmistress, Miranda. She knocked on the wall, informing the two of you of her presence. Your eyes lit up as you noticed her. You quickly stood up and smiled. 

"Hey, Bela. Do you need something?" Bela's face reddened at your question. She knew what she wanted, but for the first time in a while she was embarrassed to ask for it, more like demand, usually. 

"You're playing Dungeons and Dragons, right?" Your eyes glowed brighter at her knowledge of the game.

"Yeah! Wanna play?" You questioned. By this point Mia was already preparing another character sheet base for Bela, who allowed her cold visage to break as she smiled softly. Joining you and Mia on the floor, sinking into the sea of papers and magic.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Cassandra was wandering among the many shelves of the university's library. She was searching for another copy of 'Romeo and Juliet' for you since she ruined your copy when she flooded the dormitory. She sipped her coffee as she leaned her weight onto one foot, searching for the book as she quickly read the spines of the book. She grabbed a book off the shelf. It was an older copy, but it'll have to do for her star. Her Romeo. Cassandra's cheeks flushed a soft rose as she thought of the pet names she often calls you. Hers. Her star. Her bright, shining star. She shook her head to escape her thoughts and tucked the book under her arm. She looked back up at the shelf. She wanted to give you a gift, since the night you helped her in her dorm. She knew you were a big nerd. Her nerd. So she made her way into the fantasy and science fiction section of the library. Tracing her fingers along the binds of the books at arms reach as she searched. She plucked a book off the bookcase. She read the cover. It looked interesting. 'Fahrenheit 451.' She hummed as she read the Blurb. After deciding that it would be a good gift, she made her way over to the check-out desk by the exit to check out both books. As she walked, she overheard a familiar voice. She approached the small nook. Looking around the room at the sheets of paper scattered around the floor and pinned to the walls. Her eyes locked onto you and Mia. Your eyes were bright and filled with wonderment. Concentration etched on your face as you thought. You spoke to Mia, something about a potion and a gold payment. Your voice was calm and smooth. It amazed Cassandra how well you could adapt with challenges. As she watched, it quickly became clear to Cassandra that this was an improv of sorts. She leaned against the wall as she watched the show. Quickly getting sucked into the story you and Mia were creating. She smiled, but reluctantly tore her eyes away from you two. Turning away and returning back to her quest of thanking you. She set down the books on the librarians desk. Waiting for her to check out the books. Once that was done she left the library, heading to her dorm. Upon entering her living room, her mind was dragged back to the night you stayed with her. Shaking her head, she put the copy Romeo and Juliet aside and pulled out a roll of wrapping paper. She paused as she remembered the scene from the library. You were so absorbed in your world of paper and pen, it reminded Cassandra how resilient you were. 

Daniela Dimitrescu

Daniela had just returned from her lunch date with her sisters, at this new American styled cafe. She bought an extra milkshake for you. She didn't know what kind you'd like, so she just grabbed a strawberry with extra whipped cream. She knows you normally spend your Saturday afternoons with Mia, doing something that involves a lot of paper. Once she reached the campus entrance, she hopped off her skateboard and tucked it under her arm. As she walked towards the library, being careful of not spilling the shake. As she walked through the halls she wondered why you always preferred her company. While her sisters, annoying, were far more well known and popular compared to her more laid back self. Cassandra was a dramatic diva and best actress in the theater club. Bela was a cold workaholic and the student council president. Hell, even her mother was an option. She's a looker and a hard worker. Daniela was chill, she often drank with Angie and hung with the more chill people on campus. You? You weren't innocent, but you always had this doe-eyed look on your face. It always amazed Daniela how you tended to hang with her best friend, or chill with her. She walked around the library. Admiring the architecture of the library. She doesn't spend much time in the library, so it's a pleasant change of scenery. She eventually found you scurrying away and disappearing into the wall. Confused, she peered into where you seemed to faze into the wall. She peered into the wall, finding a small hidden nook. Looking around, she saw you and Mia setting up something. Coating the walls in graph paper. She watched you two for a few minutes as you set up. She chuckled quietly and stepped into the room. Leaning against the wall

"Hey you two." You jumped and Mia's neck cracked at how fast she looked at Daniela.

"Hey dani!" Mia smiled. 

"What's up?" You chimed in.

"Nothing much. What are you two doing? I've always wondered why one person needed so much paper." You blushed and looked down at the paper covered floor.

"Ever heard of D&D?" Mia said.

"That nerd game?" Mia nodded.

Daniela chuckled and cringed as her hand began to freeze. "Oh! Hey, I got you a shake." She holds out the shake she got you. "Didn’t know what you'd want so I just grabbed a strawberry."

She smiled and sat down next to you and Mia. Watching you enjoy the shake. She leaned against the far wall and closed her eyes. Listening to you and Mia play.

Donna Beneviento

Donna loved the library, especially the grand essence of the university's library. Normally she would get overwhelmed in places like this, that's why the florist she ran was relatively small. But books had a way of making her feel so powerful. The words that were contained in the millions of pages in this library, she nearly squealed in excitement every time she entered the room. She made her way over to a new section of the library. Fantasy. Normally she'd stay in the nonfiction or the occasional horror, but Fantasy was a genre she didn't really enjoy, being the realist she is. But, one day she saw you reading a book called, '1984.' You were often reading it in between rehearsals with Cassandra, when she was working with other members of the theater club, for the upcoming play. She had also seen the cover of the book in her bag when you came to visit her shop for an occasional cup of tea. She met you through her niece, Angie. With her being the social butterfly, and you being her roommate, it would always end up in disaster. But, she was glad her niece could bond with someone over something else, other than alcohol. She knew of a small nook that she'd hide in when she didn't want to exit the grand building, but also be given peace. She plucked a book off the shelf and read the title. 'Weyward.' She found it interesting and approached the hidden nook. She paused upon hearing a giggle and paused, peering into the room. There you were, sitting on the floor with Mia. Surrounded by paper. She immediately recognized the messy organization and stacks of paper as Dungeons and Dragons. She loved the game, despite not being a fantasy fan. She looked around the library and back at you two. She cleared her throat and spoke up. Her raspy voice was barely above a whisper

"Can I join?"

@resident-lover

(Sorry there's no Angie. I had no ideas for her. let me know if you want her or not)

[wroteclassicaly]

Cuddling with Eddie in the back of his van with the doors open so you can look at the stars, with a blanket on because Eddie does not want you to get too cold.

Thanks so much, bby!

~*~

Eddie is always tap dancing his way into the precipice of being unpredictable. Yet it’s a welcomed comfort in the world that you share with him. First as a childhood best-friends, now two grown adults in a committed relationship and celebrating (because hey, Eddie passed an exam that you’d managed to pry him off you to help him study for, and you, well, Eddie said princesses shall always reap rewards for helping the dungeon trolls. Of course he’d jotted something down in his campaign notebook after referencing that). He’d insisted on picking you up at work after band practice and bestowing his ‘gift’ upon you.

What you never could’ve imagined was his venture that brought you just outside Hawkins city limits and into a clearing that he’d apparently scoped out before. Something about doing bigger deals nearby once, and finding the area when his uncoordinated ass got lost in the woods overnight. And as he’d driven towards that luscious patch of greenery surrounding the newly blooming Autumn leaves that cascades from tall oak trees—you were slack jawed and grateful for his accidental inconvenience. He’d thumbed your cheek, calloused digit dragging a line of butterflies beneath your flesh. “Pretty cool, right?”

You could merely nod. “It’s gorgeous, baby.”

“Yeah, you are, princess.” And he’d slid his arms around you, chin resting on your shoulder, long hair tickling your cheek. Surrounded by the crisp fall scents of the forrest and Eddie’s cigarettes, plus aftershave combo—you had felt yourself drifting.

Eddie had told you that wasn’t your gift, but what was in the back of his van was. He’d asked you not to peek in Eddie-like manner, swaying forward and pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re not looking are you? Not even one eye?”

You’d laughed and assured him. After he came back and placed the soft, fresh quilt in your hand, you wanted to sob. And well, you kinda did when you opened your eyes and saw what the quilt was made of. A few of Eddie’s older shirts that you loved, that smelled like him, a few shirts of yours you’d given him over the years, they were all taken apart and stitched in an intricate pattern to form a blanket. He’d even had a patch put in it. “Ms. Byers helped me with it.”

Upon seeing your tears, his nerves got the better of him and he worried at the intensity in which you reacted. All he could do was hold you. “Baby, I’m sorry. If you don’t like it. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought that—“

Your eager kiss had silenced him, causing him to understand your real reaction. And in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to be draped under the blanket, sated beneath Eddie as he made love to you. It sucker punched your gut, that dilation in your pupils making him use his knuckles to brush along your jaw. “Yeah, you me to take you under this?” He’d gripped the blanket in a slow shake.

“So slow.” You whispered.

That specific kinda moan Eddie made drifted off the cove of his mouth and onto your neck. “Gonna hold your legs apart, nice and steady, and I’m gonna make love to you, sweetheart. That what you want?”

That’s where you’d found the secondary part to your surprise. An actual blanket fort and pillows overflowing in the back of Eddie’s van. A fresh cut parcel of sunflowers and roses lay atop one of the plush pillows, a box on the side carrying the aroma of fresh pizza.

“There’s also ice cream in the cooler. And I got that wine you like, and some soda and water for hydration, in case you don’t wanna drink much tonight.”

You’d literally tackled Eddie and pinned him beneath you. He worshipped every inch of your body, taking his time and pulling you onto his face, prepping your cunt to take his cock with more orgasms than you’d have needed to be ready for him. You were always close to green right off the bat. Eddie didn’t stop, claiming reason of insanity for you. When you were sobbing into your palm, only then did Eddie make good on his promise to hold your thighs apart and fuck your pussy nice and deep, languid and lazily.

The last summer sun set as Eddie Munson made love to you.

~*~

And that pulls you back into the present, tucked at his side, still wrapped in the quilt and another blanket over top to make sure you didn’t get too cold, Eddie’s cheek on your temple, arm around you, fingers of his other hand stroking a line of goosebumps up your arm and to your shoulder. It’s a clear night after the storms from earlier in the day had passed, leaving a midnight blue sky full of glittering stars and promising constellations. Eddie had opened the van doors and let in the cool air, still rain soaked and speckled in that fragrant scent of seasonal leaves. The wind isn’t heavy, the crickets are chirping melodically, and Eddie is breathing steadily.

You hum in content, bones sated and muscles pliant. You flick his necklace, peering up at his cute little grin. “You okay there, princess?”

“M’ fucking perfect, Eds. I honestly feel like this is all some damned dream and I’m gonna wake up.”

“Nah.” He argued teasingly. “The only dream I would be in is your nightmares.”

“How about my wet ones?” You smirk.

“Oooh? Folks, she’s scandalous. We’ve got a scandalous one here.” He waves an arm at an invisible audience, before bear hugging you to the radiating warmth of his chest.

“Hey,” he says, breaking you out of the brief reverie of post-coitus cuddling silence, bopping your nose before nuzzling it with a nudge, kissing it gently, “you know that somebody loves you?”

You absolutely fall apart and melt into a puddle, staring at him, a gentleness overtaking your features as you retort, “You know you’re my soulmate, Eddie Munson?”

[delopsia]

I always talk about how Bob evened out Rhett, but not the other way around.

They're two extremes on opposite sides of the spectrum; where Bob is straight-laced, by the book, leads with his head, and vehemently avoids tattoos, alcohol, and even swearing, Rhett is a free spirit who lets his heart decide what he does. The young rebel son who loves the burn of alcohol, bears tattoos of the things he loves most and doesn't concern himself with limiting his language. Bob worries about what others may think; Rhett couldn't give a damn if a mob came after him.

When they first meet, they are attracted to one another like magnets, so wildly different from the other and so curious about what their lives entail.

Yes, Bob's presence leads to Rhett reaching for alcohol less, staying out of bar fights, and putting a little more thought into his actions, but for every lesson he learns, he gives.

Bob's reluctance to drink alcohol draws Rhett into rethinking how much he drinks. Going from getting drunk every Friday night to once a year at best, and that's only if he forgot to count how much he was consuming. But it also encourages Bob's curiosity; he accepts sips of drinks to learn what they taste like and enjoys a sickly sweet wine cooler every now and again.

Rhett's a firm example that swearing isn't such a horrid thing, that Bobby doesn't need to feel guilty for letting a sharp "fuck" past his lips when he stubs his toe on the rocking chair. It's okay to do these things.

Rhett's desire to wear the things that make him feel alive is what draws Bob to wear two small tattoos on his hips. Flowers to represent the two people he loves most. It's delicate, and it's intimate, and it's their own little secret that nobody else knows about.

The presence of a wild-hearted cowboy draws Bob away from his highly structured life and into something new. Of going on late-night drives just for the hell of it, trying the things that scare him and that the opinions of others aren't worth worrying about.

Rhett's a breath of fresh air that reawakens feelings Bob forgot he had. He's the mustang that runs free around Wabang, taunting others with his free spirit, and Bob is the gentle pair of hands that have tamed him. They're no longer two extremes but something unknown, closer to the middle, and it's a stunning perfection that cannot be replicated.

[braisedhoney]

please tell me about the pigments i would love nothing more than to hear you talk about that one shade of red you like and the process it took too recreate it

... oh, op. you have no idea what you've unleashed.

alright. here we go.

OKAY SO THE RED PIGMENT. pr206. my beloved. my dearest friend. it was an absolute bastard to find because there are so many of these. however many you think there are, there are MORE, and that's only if you don't count the many many scenarios where colors are known to be multi-pigment mixes, usually varying in tone/shade/intensity depending on the brand and manufacturing style. some colors are more consistent than others, but there are situations where a color can be named the same and contain the same pigments and STILL look wildly different depending on the ratio, binder, and paper you use. and that's not accounting for the way the pigment is processed. some pigments (like pv19 for example) can come in so many shades it's frankly kind of ridiculous.

anyway, my quest begins when i am, admittedly, in an edgier phase. i want a blood red, but not specifically because of that—no, i want it because it is THE IDEAL COLOR (to me) for a perfect, warm, slightly muted but still intense shade to add to a muted autumn watercolor palette. and... if you look at my whole theme, you probably know how much i love warm colors. i want to paint mushrooms. i want to dim down some of the brighter greens to make them autumnal. i want the perfect red to put as an undertone.

the search starts in earnest.

the immediate issue is this: reds (and purples and pinks) have horrifically bad lightfastness. not all of them, mind, but many are NOTORIOUS for fading under uv light, which means they will also fade if exposed to sunlight even in passing should it happen often enough. and—in especially bad cases where they're essentially working with dye and not pigment—they can even fade inside your notebook. inside of a drawer.

so not only are we working with an unfortunate pigment base (i'm simplifying here, there's way more nuance to this but shh) but we are working with one that skews heavily toward floral pinks or oranges. the red i'm searching for is warm, but not orange. dries dark but not brown. is transparent, not opaque. that last part is agonizing, because i also desperately do not want a color that will fade on me or generally destabilize, and most of the stable dark red pigments are EARTH pigments like red ochre (pr101) or the like. which, while fascinating because of their historical usage in things like pottery and even cave paintings that last to the modern day, are VERY OPAQUE. this is an issue with my preferred style of watercolor painting specifically, because opaque pigments tend to lift easier off the page and limit layering.

the search continues. pigment after pigment breaks my heart for one reason or another, drying too close to the cooler purpleish-red tint of wine at best. i think i find it in perylene maroon, but the drying shift (the difference between how a color looks wet vs after it dries on the paper) is so extreme that it loses the luminosity AND it's more opaque than most. i languish.

for a while my search turns to creation. i try and mix as many of my single pigment colors as i can into something that vaguely resembles what i'm looking for—so i take quinacridones and mix them with napthols, with nickel azos, with dashes of ultramarines and burnt sienna. everything turns out either just a bit too opaque, just a bit too muddy (that happens with multi-pigment mixtures, and is why so many people swear by single pigment colors. it's personal preference, really, great art can be made either way.)

still, nothing works. failure haunts me. i sit before a pile of used up watercolor paper that is literally covered edge to edge in nothing but similar red squares with various gradients and blooms as evidence of when i tried and failed to convince myself my efforts were close enough. i admit defeat.

in the meantime i shift my focus. i try and appreciate different color palettes and profiles, experimenting with things like fully transparent palettes (personal favroite) to fully opaque ones that function more like gouache. but despite finding appreciation for it, i still think about the damn red that i could never recreate. it kills me.

and then one day, a youtube video. a pigment is being discontinued, and the watercolor community is distressed. this happens a lot, because pigments are actually not always popular because of artists—sometimes beloved colors are put out of production because larger markets like car companies no longer find them popular enough to invest in. this time, the casualty is pr206, aka brown madder, aka quinacridone burnt scarlet.

let me tell you a little about quinacridones. they are genuinely remarkable colors. they have their own cult followings because of how bright and abnormally stable they are under uv light. they're transparent. they're luminous. they come in mostly shades of red and pink and purple, though there are a couple oranges and yellows in there. (there are no quinacridone blues, as far as i'm aware, but the phthalo blues have that category covered.) they also rewet beautifully, so you can put them on your palette and let them dry and not worry about it turning into a useless little rock of color that you can't get any pigment from anymore.

quinacridone magenta (pr122) is probably the most popular of these, the most often used besides maybe quinacridone violet (pv19). a few years prior we suffered the loss of quinacridone gold (po49) and since then people have been On Alert when it comes to losing these colors. i am one of them, because i never got the chance to even see po49 in person, and now the tubes are so stupid expensive that even the student grade versions go for Ridiculously High Prices on ebay, and the professional brands are being hoarded like (ironically) gold by anyone lucky enough to have a tube left over.

but back to our main character. not me, the pigment. pr206. i have legitimately never heard of this one, which to be fair is probably because i try to limit the random colors i fixate on since the hobby can easily get VERY expensive if you aren't careful. but it's a quinacridone, and that catches my eye.

i open the video.

now, i'm sure any artist out there will be familiar with the fact that screens don't display color consistently. it depends on your device, but most can agree that something that looks cooler on one may be warmer on the other, it's just what happens. but i see this color being swatched, and my brain implodes.

it's almost a perfect match.

it could work. it could. years of thinking that same thought have left me bereft and mistrustful of this specific quest marker, but the thought refuses to leave me. probably because the 'discontinued' label flashes like a neon sign.

i resist for about six months, and then i cave. at this point i have genuinely been trying and failing to find this color for upwards of five years. i am desperate, and the color might not be available anymore soon anyway, and apparently i am weak to sales pitches. (note: the color IS now unavailable in some brands, but others bought a decent supply and should have it available for at least a little while, alongside po48 which is quinacridone burnt orange, a favorite of mine and probably one of the only oranges i use regularly. both are discontinued officially, but they'll still be on sale till those supplies run dry.)

the color arrives. i grab my favorite brush. i pull out my stash of paper that i save for special occasions.

it's almost perfect.

i mix it with quinacridone burnt orange.

the result is, i swear, a perfect match for what i have been searching for.

it's warm. it dries dark but not dark enough to look brown. it keeps its luminosity (thank you quinacridones). it's fully transparent (thank you quinacridones). i genuinely feel the urge to weep, but i don't because i am clinging at last to the dredges of my sanity and also salt makes watercolor pigments behave differently and i will not risk this glorious moment. finally, after all these years, bill cipher has a gun i found the goddamn COLOR.

i mix it with warm yellows and with my favorite blues. with the pinks, just to laugh. life is beautiful and i am painting its sunsets, and i do not care if they look ridiculously messy. i have won.

the moral of the story is to never give up. or maybe it's to remember you never actually know everything about even the fields you love the most, because this color totally blindsided me despite being much more common than i expected. or maybe it's that i seriously needed to chill out for a while.

but yes. that is the tale of one (1) of the colors that has taken up residence in my soul. i hope you don't regret asking now lmao.

[aowyn]

Fic Stats Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most bookmarks, fourth most comments, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

tagged by the lovely fairy @child-of-the-fairy-folk ! <3 thanks for tagging me!!! :D

first most hits: and though the winter came it hurt them not

Show me your true appearance, Wen Kexing had said at dinner, looking up at Zhou Zishu through half-lidded eyes. His long fingers were cool against Zhou Zishu’s, who clutched his wine cup for dear life. And I’ll tell you what I want. I know what you want, Zhou Zishu didn’t say. It’s written all over your face. Wen Kexing invites Zhou Zishu to his rooms, and Zhou Zishu forgets about the nails.

i wrote this in the VERY early days of word of honor fandom, when you could count the number of english-language fics on one hand. as a result, this fic became very popular because there literally wasn't anything else to read LOL. (if you go in the word of honor fandom tag on ao3, limit to english language, then go to the very last page, it's there!

second most kudos: all the fires faded and were quenched

“I’m losing my senses, Lao Wen,” he said, with a hoarse bluntness that was perhaps a little cruel. He paused, and took a deep breath. Wen Kexing stared, still silent, black eyes wide with a distressed devotion that caused Zhou Zishu’s stomach to fill with hot shame. “I’m dying.” --- Zhou Zishu can't smell Wen Kexing anymore.

similar situation to the first fic! this story is on the third to last page of english word of honor fics sorted by date rather than the last one XD

third most bookmarks: silent and immutable as snow

He reaches for Wen Kexing's hands; touching Wen Kexing has become as natural as breathing, or perhaps it's the other way around. Being with Wen Kexing means being alive, or maybe not something quite so all-consuming as being alive, but rather the many smaller intimacies that coalesce into a life: Wen Kexing is the click of chopsticks at a common table and the rustle of blankets in a shared bed. Wen Kexing's hands are cooler than normal. At first, Zhou Zishu attributes it to the chill of the room, but when he feels for a pulse in his wrist and finds nothing, his stomach curdles like souring milk.

i wrote this story to cope with how the word of honor finale made me feel, and it resonated with a lot of people!

fourth most comments: rivers have not kept their courses

Across the ashy remains of the campfire, Wen Kexing sat on a log, playing his jade xiao. To Zhou Zishu’s sleep-addled mind, he looked to be made of sunlight, daybreak setting the white silk of his fine clothing aglow with pinks and pale yellows. It seemed a full night of sleep turned Zhou Zishu into a sappy poet. He resolved to never fall asleep to Wen Kexing’s flute again lest that affliction became incurable.

similar situation to the first and second fics! this story is on the second to last page of english word of honor fics on ao3 XD

fifth most words: sky above, crowned with sun

An olive tree, trunk gnarled and black. The mortals would call it ancient, but time is not so fast for gods, and Persephone counts not the years. All she knows is that the tree is as old as her dead son.

this is a hades fic i wrote for the extreme timed challenge gift exchange, where you have 48 hours after receiving your giftee's prompt to complete a fanwork for them. i wrote 2.2k words!

least amount of words: saudade

They lay together, in the time-worn quiet of the Four Seasons Manor—Zhou Zishu refused to call it a ruin, because it stopped being one as soon as the three of them came back to live in it.

on tumblr a few years ago i wrote double drabbles for people who left an ask with a cool word and a word of honor character, and this is one of them!

i tag @maebird-melody @morluin @morifiinwe @feanor @andreth-with-a-sword @garden-holic @raine-kai @vryivs @aredhels @gayjaytodd @rose-ncrantz and anyone else who would like to do this game! (and also no obligation to do it if i've tagged you!) <3

[writingcold]

Neapolitan - Pt. 1

A/N: Here is Pt. 1 of Neapolitan.  This has turned into a beast of a story.  Thank you @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine for giving me some tips for how to write this thing.  It exploded.  Everywhere.  It has possessed me for the past six weeks and I’m ready to put it out there.  I hope you enjoy it.  Please let me know.  I’m a whore for criticism - good and bad.  It’s the only way to grow in this craft.  I plan on posting up on Monday and Thursdays.  It is completed, so I’ll be faithful about posting - promise. 

Pairings: Jake (switch) X fem OC (switch)

I’m going to put this in here - I do not know any of the gentlemen of GVF.  This is a piece of fiction, through and through.  Jake is just my blueprint to a very interesting character to me.  A muse if you will. 

Content Warnings: Alcohol use, adult language, adult situations, but mostly intros in this part.  In the future - there will be angst, smut, more smut, more angst, lots of partying, and more smut.

Word count for Pt. 1: approx. 4200 words

Pt. 1

“Hey, Vi!  I’m heading out, you good?”  Chase called as he was halfway out the door and not waiting for an answer.

     She tossed the TV remote down on the bar as she eyed Mac, who was head down at the corner of the bar.  She was going to have to call his wife.  Again.  He was at his limit and needed to just go.  Dawn was going to be mad, but there was nothing that Violet could do.  The man was working through something and it was not her place to figure it out.

     Making it through the call with Dawn, she took a ten out of the cash register to put into the jukebox.  If she had four hours until the bar closed, there was no point in trying to do it in the silence.  By the time she had punched in all of her song choices, Dawn was striding through the door, their young kid in tow.  She was laser focused on her husband, practically grabbing him by the ear and dragging him from the bar like it was a den of fire and ill repute.  

     Violet openly cursed as she felt boredom creep over her.  She grabbed the broom and dustpan and started to sweep up.  The night was going to be long no matter what she was going to do, might as well start her closing routine just to keep busy.  There was nothing wrong with LP’s Bar and Grill, it was just set back in the woods, fifteen miles out of town.  The bar crowd usually only swelled on summer weekends and hunting season and big event days during the non-touristy season.  Wednesday nights were long.  Long was an understatement.  It was the reason why she only worked weekends, and the owner knew it.  But he was left in a pinch when Bree quit without warning to follow her girlfriend to the cities.  He was paying her an extra few dollars an hour to cover until he got someone new, that she would then have to take the time to train, and finally hope like hell that that person would last the rest of the summer so she wouldn’t have to do it again until fall.

     She danced around to the loud music as she swept and put stools on top of the tables to get them out of the way.  She was sure there would be Mr. Clean sparkles on everything by the time she finished with the night the way she was not missing any corner in her efforts.  She was returning glasses to the shelves and cooler when a car pulled up that she did not recognize.  A quick glance at the clock left her feeling frustrated.  It was only a few minutes after midnight.  Her music was wrapping up, much to her disliking.  She was tempted to take another ten from the register, but the owner only allowed one bill per night to be used for her own purpose.  Her tip jar was empty.  Sighing, she continued her routine behind the bar as if laying in wait for the occupants of the car to come in and have their drink and get the fuck out due to lack of humans.

      Violet was bent down at the far corner, grabbing the empties of whiskey and gin and vodka to swap out with new bottles that she had already brought up from the basement storage, when the door finally flew open, admitting four guys that were obviously not from town.  Looking at them, she felt like she needed to place them as they chatted loudly, talking about the bar and all its wares.  She plastered on a smile and said her best ‘hi there’.

      Then it hit.  These guys were a band.  The two taller guys were first to the bar.  The dark, long curly haired one smiled at her while the other was talking so fast she could not comprehend a word.

     “If you don’t slow your words down, I’m going to give you grapefruit White Claw,”  she said with a grin.

     The dark, curly haired one burst out with a sharp laugh just as the other two got to the bar.  That was when she realized the man she just slighted was incredibly pretty.  His dark eyes twinkled as his mouth stretched into a huge smile.  Her brain froze a bit until the dark, curly haired one pointed at a beer.  

     “Wow,”  the one with a head full of short curls remarked, eyes wide.  “What the hell did you say to him to make Sammy boy shut it?” 

     Violet turned to the cooler to retrieve the ordered beer.  “Grapefruit White Claw is punishment in my house.  If the pretty would like to try again…”

      They laughed hard as she raised an eyebrow in challenge.  “I’ll have one of those, please.  Nice to meet you, I’m Sam.  You are?”

     She followed his head nod to a pilsner.  “I’m Violet.”

     Her eyes next went to the loudest of them with the shorter curly hair.  “Well, Violet, how about a cocktail?”

     “Anything in particular, or do I need to White Claw you, too, just for being sassy?”  she asked with the tilt of her head.

    “Surprise me.” 

    The man’s dark eyes matched the taller, pretty one.  His wide, warm smile made her feel squishy.  “All right,”  she said, turning and grabbing a glass.  She worked quickly to ensure he did not see what she was making up.

     Setting the concoction in front of him, her eyes moved to the last one and her stomach twisted.  The look this one gave her was absolutely seering her panties off.  Licking at her lips, she moved in front of him.

     “Whiskey, rocks,”  he said quietly with a smile.

     “Nice.”  She turned to grab the Jack and he stopped her with a clearing of his throat.  He nodded up.  Her grin stretched as she was redirected to the Chicken Cock.  She nodded as she filled the glass with ice, glancing at him.  “My favorite.”

     “I don’t know what this is, darling, but wow,”  short curls said with a smile.

     “It’s a Southside.  My grandma’s favorite when she comes here for ‘cocktails’,”  Violet said with a laugh, setting the whiskey in front of the last one.

      Looking into his eyes, she watched as the corners of his eyes crinkled with a smile.  She felt like she was just rewarded the Oscar from his reaction.  The other three were laughing hard at her comment.

    “You’ll have to tell your grandma that she has lovely taste, darling,”  he said dramatically, lifting the glass.

     “Pour one for yourself,”  the quietest one said with a nod.  

     “Don’t mind if I do,”  she said with a nod of thanks.

     “Well, since Sammy started us, I’ll continue,”  short curls sang.  “This tall drink of water is Danny.  I am Josh; poet extraordinaire.  And dark and moody over there is Jake.”

     “Nice to meet all of you,”  she said, finishing her own pour.  

     Josh tossed a card onto the bar top as Sam’s eyes lit up with something on the other side of the room.  Jake held his glass up and she clinked it before taking a drink.  

     “Mini bowling?!”  Sam practically screamed from the back.

     She drew in a sharp breath.  

     Why couldn’t it be darts?  Darts are kinda quiet, she thought with a wince.

     The release of the balls and the setting of the pins told her otherwise.  Danny and Sam were laughing so hard that it drew Josh away from the bar as well.  Jake stayed behind, much to the discomfort of her stomach.  This man was pretty, but not in the same way as Sam.  There was an edge to him.  A little more mature and still and observant.

     “So, what brings you guys out to the backwoods, middle of nowhere in the middle of the night no less?”  she asked, trying to busy herself to keep from breathing in the man’s skin like she was going to vacuum it from his body.

     The first of many smashes echoed across the bar.  Jake smiled as she bared her teeth and squinted her eyes.  Danny’s loud “woot” and Sam’s excuses made her relax a bit.  They were a funny pair.

     “Writing adventure,”  Jake replied before taking a sip of his drink.

     “New album?”  she asked before realizing she just gave herself away in knowing who they were.

     His dark eyes took a step back from the shimmer that he had been shooting her.  “Yeah.”

     “Sorry,”  she said quietly over her drink.  “Kinda against the law to be anywhere from the upper Midwest and not know of you guys.”

      “Illegal, huh?”  The shimmer was back, but more cautious.

      “Yeah, I’ll stick with that.”  Violet walked to the other side of the bar to peek to see Sam with two balls above his head like a conquering warrior and Josh dancing around with his drink in his hand like he was not being watched.   “How long are you all up here for?”

      “Eight weeks,”  he answered, eyes trained on the jukebox.  

      Violet watched as he strolled - not walked - to the glowing electric box that beckoned him.  “Wow, so all summer then.”

      “You’re the closest bar, too, so…”

      The smirk he shot over his shoulder made her stop breathing.  It was timed perfectly with a high pitch squee and shattering of pins.  He fed money into the machine and she could only imagine what he’d find in there that would interest him.  That was, until Josh noticed what he was doing and full on body tackled him before he could make a selection.  

      Violet rolled her lips between her teeth to keep from laughing.  Jake glared at his brother before breathing through his teeth and returning to the bar for his drink.  She returned her attention to her chores, only to find that she was done.  The beer coolers were stocked.  The wine and liquor was replenished.  The dishes were done.  The floor and bar were spotless.  Turning, with her hands on hips, she was taken aback by Jake watching her.

      “Nothing else to do, but entertain us, huh?”  he joked as Josh was talking about this song and oh, that song, and even sung ‘here we go’ to no one in particular.  

      “As long as none of you vomit in the urinal, I’ll be walking out of here before 2:15 it seems,”  she remarked with a nod, getting the bottle of whiskey once more.  Josh elbowed in again with his empty glass and requesting a refill on g-ma’s cocktail. 

     “I’m older, sweet buns, so age before beauty,”  he laughed with a finger point at his twin.

     “Do you even realize that you just put yourself down, old man?”  Jake laughed, shaking his head.

      His warm eyes rolled up to the ceiling with thought.  “I’m sticking to it so fuck off.”

      Jake perked his eyebrows as his brother danced off to some Bee Gees song.  Danny approached the bar with their empties and an apologetic look.

      “Yeah, I’d like to say sorry up front for those two,”  he said with a grin.  “It’s going to get louder before better.”

      Violet turned to the cooler to retrieve two more beers.  When she swung around again, she noticed that Danny had freckles kissing his nose.  Whoa.  His pretty factor just jumped ten fold.  The man grinned shyly as he said thanks.  There was another smash interrupting whatever it was he was going to say.

      Finally, she was able to refresh Jake’s glass.  He had left it on the bartop while he had drifted back to the jukebox.  She opted to wait a few beats to see if he’d miss it.  When he became engrossed in flipping through screen after screen, she decided to refresh the glass and deliver it.  She stopped at his side, taking him in for the briefest of moments before he turned and looked at her.  She held up the glass for him to take.  The soft smile that he had been wearing waned slightly.  His calloused fingers rubbed against her as he took his drink from her.  The warmth of his skin surprised her.  The way he held her gaze made her blush.  

      Gloria Gainor belted out much to everyone else’s delight, bursting whatever was going on in Violet’s brain.  She backed away in search of her own drink leaving him behind with his eyes plastered to the screen and his brothers belting out disco hits of yesteryear.

      Her eyes strayed to the clock, suddenly not wanting two o’clock to arrive.  She hadn’t had that much fun in the bar… ever.  It was pushing past twelve thirty.  Jake must’ve noticed that she was calculating.

     “We can get to go cups if you’re heading out,”  he said, sliding back up on a stool.

     “No,”  she said with a smile.  “I was…”

     “Holy Shit Flaming Balls!”  Josh screamed once again breaking into her thoughts.  “Darling!  I am in need of …”

      She noticed the pinch in Jake’s eyes as she moved around the cooler wall.  Josh had spilled most of his drink on her very clean floor.  Holding up her hands, she took his glass first.

      “Do I have to cut you off?  I mean, nothing wrong with feather weights, but, come on,”  she joked.

      “Grapefruit White Claw his punk ass, will you?”  Sammy peeled, shaming him.

      Josh’s face turned deathly serious.  “Samuel, be truthful.  I did not spill willingly.  It was your lanky ass that ruthlessly knocked into my hand.  It was a miracle that the glass did not get murdered in the process.”

      “I’ll get you fixed up,”  she said with a dramatic sigh.  “You - this is your second warning, Mister.”

      “Ooooo, I kinda like that. “Mister”, like a more formal “Sir”.  Can I call you doll?  No, princess?  No….  I’ll figure it out,”  he laughed.

      Violet rolled her eyes playfully as she lifted the two empty beer cans and waving them.  The look they tossed was like “of course, woman”.  She set to work, cleaning up the floor last.  Josh took the mop from her hands and swished it around the floor like a dance partner, not unlike she had done earlier.  She looked back at the bar to find Jake watching them with a smile.  Rescuing her mop before Josh turned it into his girlfriend, she put away the bucket set before returning to her perch.

     “Are you all up at the Millenue Cabins?  Or are you the folks renting Nilquist’s place?”  she asked, just to make conversation.  

     Jake nodded.  “Nilquist’s.”

    “Yeah, Margie was a regular around here before she died.  She was… interesting,”  she said with a shrug.  

     He started laughing, quiet at first and grew louder by the moment.  Her brows pinched as he tried to stop, but the tops of his cheeks grew rosy as he just continued.  Sam peeked at his brother, his face full of question.

      “Did you break Jake?”  he asked.

      The man’s shoulders were shaking so badly he could not breathe.  Josh, interest peaked, came barreling back towards the fun.  Even Danny walked back, beer in hand and questioning in his eyes.

      “The…  The…”  Jake babbled, unable to stop laughing.

      “Something about Margie’s place,”  Violet said with a shake of her head.

      “Oh,”  Danny said in a tiny voice before his face started to burn red.

      “Is this about the dick pictures?”  Sam asked, completely baffled.

      “What…?”  Violet was suddenly absolutely shocked.  

      “Yeah, talk about weird - there’s like dick photos behind almost every single picture in the house.  It’s unsettling,”  Sam said almost prudishly.  Violet couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.  “Whoever lived there was either really into big dicks or the renters have been leaving phallic pictures behind as a joke.”  

     Violet’s eyes grew huge as Jake was just starting to come down from his fit.  “Oh no!  You’re actually the first ones to rent that place!  Ewwww!  She was like 90 years old!”

     She couldn’t help but to laugh and be grossed out at the same time. Jake, seeing her face practically slid to the floor in a whole new round of laughter.  She kept repeating “oh my god” as she reached for the whiskey to refresh her glass to try to wipe the thought from her brain.  Jake’s laughter rang above everyone’s.  Violet drained her whiskey in an attempt to sear the image from her brain.

     “Okay, guys, really?  Old ladies can like dicks.  There’s nothing wrong with that,”  Sam said, unable to find the humor that the rest of them found.  When they didn’t calm, he threw his hands up.  “Really.  How mature.  I hope I can be interested in anything like that when I’m old.  I’ll hand out the White Claws now.”

     Violet crouched down, gasping for breath as Sam returned to the bowling lanes.  Dan was hunched across the bar and Josh leaned into him like a maniacal gremlin.  Jake laughed into both hands, his whole body shaking.  To make matters worse, “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” boomed over the speakers.

     “Oh hell no,”  Violet hissed through her laugh, clamoring for the remote.  “I’m vetoing that shit right now.”

     The boys just howled as she skipped over a few songs as each one just fed into the dick story in some way.  Finally...  Finally, one of the songs that Jake had selected finally pierced the speakers.  The Black Keys swooned out across the bar and she stopped, fingers spread, body frozen in hopes of moving on.  She grabbed a few more beers from the cooler for Danny to return to a very irritated Sam with, and she freshened up Josh.  She grabbed a tissue for herself and one for Jake who had tears squeezing out the corners of his twinkling eyes.

      Her ribs hurt from laughing so hard.  She had not been able to laugh like that in years.  It felt good.  Felt like the weight had been lifted from her mind, even if it were only momentary.  Jake finally recovered.  He straightened his half buttoned shirt and shook out his hair before letting out a rather loud breath.  He drained his glass and slid it between his hands on the bar top.  

     “I think I better switch to one of those,”  he said, pointing at one of the local beers on the top shelf of the cooler.  “Grab one for you?”

     “I…  I’ll grab a water, thanks”  she said, knowing that the buzz she was feeling needed to be gone before she could drive.

     She opened the can and set it down in front of him before opening her bottled water.  He played with the tab for a moment before taking a drink.  The boys in the back found their loud rhythm of smashing the pins and setting them up again.  Violet listened as the music shifted into something remote that she had never heard before but it interested her.  

     Sam made a loud cackle as he was suddenly sliding across the floor.  “Mistress!”  he shouted with a huge happy smile.  Everything went silent.  “Shit.  That doesn’t work either.  Unless… “

     She turned fully towards him, hands on hips.  For a brief moment, she heard Jake let out the softest breath.  “Uh… yeah, no.  Try again, Sticks.”

     Sam threw his hands up with a wink.  “Damn it!  She’s even got one for me already.  I’ll keep working on it.”

     “Tuesday’s Gone” started through the speakers and a loud groan marked the beginning of the song.  Josh sashayed in, glass raised high.

     “Come on, lovely,”  he cooed, offering his hand to Violet.  “Let’s dance.”

    She smiled and slid her fingers through his palm.  He twirled her once she was free from the corners of the bar and looped his arm on her waist before dipping her.  His touch was firm while his body drifted around her, guiding her, challenging her.  She was taken by the light of his movements.  Josh had his own brand of ‘graceful’ and it was both fascinating and breathtaking.

     Halfway through the song, however, Jake was tapping his brother’s shoulder.  Josh pulled Violet’s hand against his mouth in a warm kiss before handing it over to Jake with a brash smile.  The moment Jake’s hand wrapped itself on her hip, Violet was pulled into heat and strength and it made her straighten her back and shore up her heart.  The man, she was sure, was used to women tossing themselves in his direction, even if it was for the briefest of interludes.  

     “Thank you for letting us in here tonight,”  he said quietly, turning her only to bring her back against him.  “We can be a bit much.”

     She pushed forward her easy smile.  “I was looking at hours of nothing.  It’s been fun.”

     There was a groan and a smash, followed by cheers that made her feel like the air around them lighten.  Sam appeared, his face warm with whatever had happened in their game.

     Violet found herself being turned again, Jake’s fingers tracing the line of her waist.  He moved with her across the floor towards his brother, dipping her right in front of him as the song drew to a close.  She looked up into Sam’s pretty eyes and he smiled warmly down at her.

     “Having fun, Vi?”  he said, twirling her hair playfully.

     “That’s what you’ve settled on, huh, Sticks?”  she said with a touch of snark before Jake pulled her up and against him again, forcing her to look him dead in the eyes.  Her stomach tightened as he fixed the stray piece of hair that had fallen across her face.  

     “Not settling, I’m still working on it,”  he said almost like he was waiting to infringe on their moment.

     She had to blink a few times as Jake finally stepped back and let her hands go.  Turning, she watched as Danny strode in with empties and Josh absolutely twirled in with a bell-like laugh.  Jake moved to his stool as the others took the seats next to him.  Bowling was over.  Violet ran down the line, refreshing drinks with a wary eye on the cooler.

     “Alright, tall drink of water, you’re up,”  she said, waving Danny along.  “You’ve decimated my coolers.  Sam, you too.  Come help me.”

     She shooed them down the basement stairs with a glance back at the twins who had their heads nearly touching as they talked.  She pointed at the three cases she was going to need in order to refresh what they had consumed.

     “Hey, can we just buy the open cases to go?”  Danny asked as they hauled back up the stairs.

     “Sure,”  she replied, closing the door behind her, eyes squarely on the clock.  

     “Hey, Vi, you on again tomorrow night?”  Josh asked, practically swinging from his stool.

     “Yeah,”  she sighed, ripping open the first case.

     “Why say it like that?”  Sam asked, drinking his beer.

     She shrugged.  “My other job.  I’m in the pro shop starting at ten, then gotta be back here at six.  Going to be a long day.”

     Danny lit from within.  “Pro shop?  As in golf course?”

     She nodded warily.  “Up in the hills on the other side of town.”

     Jake rolled his eyes as the tallest of them practically started bouncing.  “You just made this one’s whole summer.”

      “I told you I needed to bring my clubs,”  he said, as if she just validated his plans.  

      The prospect of seeing these guys nearly every day of the summer crept over her.  Josh patted her hand as if reading her thoughts.  She blew out a laugh as she nodded.

     “If you’d like, I could probably get you some tee times in the next few days,”  Violet said, buying into Danny’s excitement.  

     “Do you play?”  he asked, clinking cans with Sam.

     “No, but I like the walk.  It is a pretty course,”  she said, looking around for her missing water bottle.

     Jake held up her water, recapturing her attention.  “So two jobs.  Anything else you do around here?”

     “Nope,”  she said, taking the bottle from him.  Her eyes rose back to the clock.  “Shit, guys, I’ve got to say last call.”

     They all groaned with hands raised.  She went back to work, restocking what they had consumed from the cooler.  Sam and Danny took the opened cases and started heading for the door.  She was settling the tab as Josh and Jake finished their drinks.  She whipped through cleaning up as Josh was doing his bit.  

     “See you tomorrow,”  Josh called from the door.

     Jake was a few steps behind, taking the last swallow of his beer.  “You’re not too far from here are you?”

     “Nope,”  she said with a smile.

     “You’re okay?”

     She smiled at him and the genuine concern he was showing.  “Yeah,”  she nodded.

     He pushed his way out the door and she was left standing in absolute silence wondering what the fuck had just happened.  She needed to just get home, get in bed, and wake the fuck up, because whatever happened over the course of the night was most certainly not real.

Taglist: you can join here or send me an ask

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @maverick-rose

[barrygeuse]

before i took a nap yesterday i was thinkin' about the maitland-deetz family going to a public pool together so you know i have to indulge

charles:

he's the typical beach dad (especially with adam dannheisser in mind)

this doesn't entirely translate to the pool (and the beach trip is a post for another day) but he still fits right in

black swim trunks and an unbuttoned, floral hawaiian shirt. i'm picturing something middle-toned blue

CHUNKY DAD SUNGLASSES

shirt comes off when he gets into the pool

would be the one to cannonball hard enough that there's a genuine splash zone. everyone knows to not sit by the deep end if you don't want to be splashed when someone prompts a cannonball contest

is the one that brings his wallet so that the family can get snacks from the snack bar

beetlejuice is limited to a single choco taco per pool trip. he cannot have more than one. this is a charles-instilled rule

delia:

you WILL hear her shrieking about not getting her hair wet

wildly patterned one-piece suit (this style for example, but not this pattern). something black and white or purple or both

she'll get in the pool if lydia bugs her enough about it, but she's usually laying around tanning on the chairs for most of the day

brings wine coolers in a tiny cooler that she fits in one of their beach bags and sips them when they lifeguards aren't looking

sometimes she and barbara will get up early and make margaritas before they all head over so they can sit together and talk and drink a little

always forgets to put sunscreen on before they get there and then the kids (bj and lydia.) pretend to retch while charles helps her put it on. barbara has to stifle her laughter at it

adam:

stupid flower patterned swim trunks and a nylon swim shirt

takes no convincing at all to get him in the water. loves being in the pool and messing around with lydia (it's the dad instinct!)

if barbara's taking some time in the pool, charles will get lydia onto his shoulders and they'll play chicken. delia refuses to ever take part in this game

gets the silly water toys from the storeroom and is an absolute menace with them

no one is safe from adam maitland and his water gun. except delia, because he's a little scared she'd snap and maybe attack him

his typical targets are barbara and lydia. lydia engages in War and he loves that. barbara will pretend to be offended and then jump in and splash him a ton before they dissolve into laughter and sweet little kisses

barbara:

absolutely wears something like this. again, not this pattern, though; something green or light blue

big, floppy sun hat. she doesn't even need to wear it she can't get sunburnt but she loves it so much

she also likes the smell of sunscreen, so sometimes she'll put a little on her shoulders just because it's nice for her

spends the majority of her time relaxing next to delia, but will go into the pool if prompted. usually to cool off if she's been in the sun for a while

pulls her hair back but doesn't care too much about getting it wet

is EVIL when it comes to water wars of any sort. probably more devious than lydia. always gets you when you're least expecting it

packs picnic lunches for everybody. cuts fruit and sandwiches into little flower shapes, makes sure everyone keeps hydrated, etc. mom behavior

lydia:

spends the majority of her time in the pool. doesn't much care for being in the sun, but she considers being in the sun in the water an exception

sweet black one piece with ruffles

pool menace. the first amendment protects you from the government not the lydia

especially if you're charles. i like to think that he and emily took her to the pool a lot as a kid

so she feels really close to her mom and to charles whenever they go there. will almost never turn down a family trip to the pool

swims laps sometimes, just for something to do. she took lessons as a kid but never went into any team stuff

splashes beetlejuice. no one else dares do this but he lets her (very, very reluctantly. there's a lot of cursing)

loves the sandwiches that barbara makes. sitting on her warm towel on the concrete eating a sandwich nd then a nutty buddy cone that charles gets for her

beetlejuice:

refuses to so much as touch the water. it would make him Cleaner, god forbid.

this is a good thing, because it would probably contaminate the pool if he went in. everyone would have to get out.

he goes with them just to get an ice cream and cause chaos amongst the other families (limited chaos. charles keeps an eye on him)

is constantly getting yelled at for the lifeguards for running and being loud and going places he shouldn't and climbing on shit

one time he gets forced to go to Baby Child Pool Time Out and lydia will not stop laughing at him

she goes over and taunts him about it and he just seethes. charles is watching to make sure he actually stays there

likes to take pool noodles and whap lydia whenever she gets near to the side of the pool. gets yelled at for this by the lifeguards, too. lydia thinks it's funny and sometimes they fight with them

walks on the hot metal without thinking and goes, "OW!" and then does it again five minutes later

[luckkysinn]

;; “SOFTLY LOVE.”

; words? ; 1.4k.

; warnings? ; none.

; genre? ; fluff.

; request? ; no.

; playlist link. ;

The basins of rivers of tears still stained her pink cheeks, drops glistening on the edges of her dark eyelashes like miniature diamonds. Her eyes had fallen closed, the bright hazy blue of her gaze obscured by slumber. Her hair was the color of coal, tumbling down over her shoulder, the airy and flowery scent of her shampoo clinging to my nose. She had fallen to the clutches of sleep not too long prior, her head falling gracelessly to rest on my shoulder. I didn’t mind the extra weight in the slightest, too enamored by the constellations her light dusting of freckles created across the bridge of her nose and over the ridge of her cheeks. I could nearly call myself an astronomer, with the swirls and galaxies I had grown to adore in her imperfections. The tiny scar on the line of her right jaw, barely noticeable unless you knew to look for it. The creases of smile lines, faint yet noticeable, framing her lips, from which only good things would spawn.

The breeze from the rooftop hardly bothered me, my attention pulled away. I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, the wind threatening to blow it back out of place. I had never known myself to be so gentle, yet my caresses were whisper soft. Trying my best not to wake her, I shifted, pulling the woven gray blanket tighter around us. She was leaning back against the arm I had staged behind her, her head rested on my shoulder. The position had her effectively tucked neatly into my side, our mutual warmth protecting us as the night grew cooler. Her chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost luring me after her into a dreamful state.

The sounds of distant cars from the streets far below acted as a lullaby for her, their harshness lost as the sound drifted upwards. Heavy clouds breached the crescent moon’s beam, casting moving shadows over her peaceful face. It had been a while since I’d seen her so calm. She held her stress in her eyes, her furrowed brows, an unconscious frown. It was so different to see not a hint of any negative emotion displayed on her face. We both had gotten used to a routine of being pushed to our breaking points, holding onto each other by an anxious thread. Now, however, the worries we shouldered were stolen by the night air, and we made no move to claim them back. The few twinkling stars that managed to push through the light pollution mirrored her visage, I could have sworn I saw the small ‘v’ shaped birthmark that was just under her eye in the vastness of the night above.

We had been planning an escape like this for quite some time now. A moment just to ourselves, without the raging fires of constant responsibility pressing down on us from all directions. Neither of us could manage to get away, strung up too tightly in promises to others and oaths to ourselves. It was a small miracle we’d found a chance on a whim to climb to the flat top of our apartment building, having ‘borrowed’ the key from a security guard who’d misplaced his key ring. Access to the roof was limited and coveted, being one of the few places in the building that wasn’t swarming with activity all hours of the day.

Throwing our oldest blanket— one I had gifted to her on our first Christmas together — over her arm and tucking a cheap bottle of wine in my grip, she’d ushered me to the view, careful to make sure no one had seen us scamper up the uneven concrete steps. We sat on our coats, preferring to pull each other close under the depths of the soon-fraying blanket. Passing the bottle back and forth, we let our words flow like the wine that danced over our tongues, talking about anything and everything that came to mind. No pause dragged on for more than a few moments before it was interrupted with another stray thought or natural, unbridled laugh. Too cheap for proper glasses, we filled our mismatched and chipped porcelain mugs to the brims, the dark red liquid leaving stains on the edges.

Her voice had grown broken after the sun had begun to set, liquid threatening to spill over from her weary eyes and the bottle she swung back and forth, having long since passed the threshold of what emotions she could tuck away like stray belongings. Everything erupted, and she had clung to me as though I was her last constant, her north star. I made no move to quiet her, offering her the only thing I could bear to offer: stability. Her smooth and uncalloused hands had gripped the fabric of my shirt, her tears leaving dark imprints into my chest. The biting cold had tinged her cheeks and the tip of her nose pink, her fluster long forgotten in the bottom of the wine bottle.

Who was I to tell her to calm down? We had both stored up our emotions, telling ourselves that we’d handle them when we had an opening in our calendars, yet they remained forgotten, shoved down into the back of our minds. I had awkwardly pulled her into my side, rocking the both of us in a steady motion. My hands stroked over the expanse of her back, over the crest of her head, down the back of her neck, rubbing gentle and light lopsided circles into her hips with my thumbs. I took care to wipe the rest of her tears with the edge of my shirt, smiling and disagreeing when she said she looked bad with her almond-shaped eyes puffy and her makeup messy. To me, she looked nothing short of ethereal.

I caught myself silently hoping that she’d stay in her peaceful state, the sweeping of her dark lashes brushing over the round curve over her cheeks. She looked nearly like a doll, her skin glistening from the tears that had split, the nipping wind having cleared away any clamminess. Her skin looked nearly porcelain, the same as the now disregarded mugs, sat to the side and pressed to one another. I knew her neck would be cramped from the odd position she had fallen asleep in, her throat would be dry and aching from the tears. I knew that I’d be the one to offer her water, holding the thin bottle up to her pretty lips as she drank like she’d been wandering the desert for a millennia. I would be the one to brace her as we would stumble back down the stairs into our shared apartment, tugging off her shoes and laying her down in our bed. I would be the one to nurse her pounding head, to reassure her, to wipe her face with a cold cloth as she took to burying herself in the plush covers.

And I wouldn’t mind one bit.

There was no length I wouldn’t go to, to catch a meager glimpse of a smile across her features. Whether it be us dancing around our tiny kitchen to the stuttering sounds of our old radio singing Billie Holiday, lifting her to sit on the counter as I gave a warm kiss to her forehead, or spending a melancholy rainy day curled into each other, my head rested firmly in her lap as I listened to her melodic voice read me some old literature, I had no shortage of fond, happy memories with the girl sleeping on my shoulder. My free hand gently tugged at her outer thigh, pulling her closer to my embrace. I could never get close enough.

A soft, relaxed murmur left her as she shifted, reaching across her lap to clutch my hand in hers, an unconscious movement that had my heart racing and bounding. It was as if a slow, warm light filled me from the tips of my fingers, spreading from wherever our skin touched. It made me elated, the simple gesture of her leaning her weight into me. As I told my heart to calm its frantic pitter-patter, a comfortable peace settled over me, wrapping itself and the girl beside me in its loving clutch.

The tension I didn’t realize myself to be holding melted away from my bones, my head carefully leaning into hers. It wasn’t too cold out, it wouldn’t hurt to stay here for a few more minutes, right? Besides, I was relishing in the moment I knew would become a cherished memory. The moment in which I felt truly content.

[hournites]

Lead Me, Doctor

Hournite Week Day 5 - Undercover 

A/N: I started this story before S2 so just ignore the obvious conflicts with canon re: The Burmans 

~.~

She tugs on his sleeve. He follows. Of course, he does. 

“What’s the matter?” 

He can see it right away. In the corner of the Burman mansion, Rick knows she’s been here before. He tries not to think of the last time, watching her tumble right out a window. Feeling her weight suddenly in his arms. Her body, close. Her high-pitched yelp. That yelp, its shrill turning into a scream. The steadiness of his feet, the way his knees never buckled, no, it would be impossible for them to have, the sand falling into the base of the glass hourglass against his jacket. Still, the way his heart stuttered and he never let his eyes off her until Pat had ushered them far and away from that road. 

Her eyes dart to the side now. He has to suppress his urge to follow her gaze. What was up those stairs? Was it a thing or was it a person? Is this a warning? Who needs the protection? He focuses on Beth instead. They had split up a while ago, but now she’s back —Rick knows how well she can handle her own. She doesn’t need Rick to be her bodyguard on dangerous nights. He trusts the way she trusts her gut. But now Beth is back, lip bitten as she clutches his arm. She doesn’t need his help, but she wants him. It makes all the difference.

“I went to the bathroom,” she admits, voice hushed under the pulsing music. Rick swears he can hear the searing wails of the staff outside, Yolanda and Courtney squaring off with Cindy again–But no, it’s just the music in the stereo speakers. The electronic synths, the bass booster. Though Courtney and Yolanda aren’t around for Rick to soothe his suspicions. Maybe he’s not making it up. Beth looks up at him, pleading,  but with an undercurrent urgency that seeps an iciness into his bones. “I saw a flash of something on my way back. I didn’t get a good look, I need to go again. Come with me?” 

He furrows his brows and feels his cheeks heat in spite of himself. “To the bathroom?” 

 It’s stupid, he knows that. It’s not like Beth is asking him to go back there with him to be alone. Though that’s what people do there during these parties. They lock the doors and suddenly hands are everywhere; under clothes, over clothes, muffled and fast. Quick decisions and pushing and pulling bodies, desperate mouths and giggles never knowing exactly when someone will interrupt knocking hastily at the door. He’d already accidentally walked in on a couple making out that way twice just by trying to find somewhere to take a piss. 

Rick could lift Beth onto a counter fixture of the sink. Her legs would wrap around his waist and she’d sigh, head tipped back against the mirror. She’d probably want to hold his hand if he kissed her, grab the hand he’d have on her side and glide it up, unfurling his fist to interlock every finger together, and Rick would let her. Only to kiss, not much else, but it would be thrilling all the same.

“Not the bathroom,” Beth says with an impatient huff. The fantasy in his head dissipates like smoke. Rick stands in the hallway.

 “It was the storage room next to it.  I thought I heard something weird.” She frowns again. “ A beeping.” 

 Refocus.

“Okay.” Rick nods and they slip through the crowd. “Let’s go.” The stairs are crowded. Rick nearly trips over a girl with a wine cooler from the liquor store he used to get his drinks from for parties like this, not even a year ago. One of her legs extended along the length of the stair, ripped black jeans to match the pin-straight black hair. Kienna, Rick remembers her name, a senior. 

Beth excuses herself without fail at every bump or jostle. She powers through, leading him up to the second floor, but opposite the direction of Cindy’s bedroom. Off-limits and guarded by Jenny Williams and a few other lower-ranked self-titled popular bitches. 

“This way,” Beth says, turning a corner. They’re lucky it seems nobody is there down this hall. 

“How is the house crawling with people everywhere else but this exact part of the house is dead empty?” Rick mutters. The floor creaks and groans under his weight. It feels like they’re being watched as they’re lurking. Or maybe he’s imagining it, the creepy sensation returning as the memories of Dragon King flooded in. 

“Oh.” Beth gives him a wicked grin and raps her knuckles against the bathroom door. Distracted, Rick’s gaze lingers on her outfit. She’s wearing a lace long-sleeved bodysuit with dark blue jeans. Rick does not know what makes a bodysuit different from a shirt, but the girls have been fawning over their wardrobes for this party, forcing Rick to pack their JSA suits to change into in his inconspicuous bag. Either way, the bodysuit is amazing on her; sleek patterns run down from her shoulders, elbows, and cuffed at her wrists. Maybe it’s good he’s refrained from touching her. His fingers would snag at the delicate lace. He’s afraid he’d rip it. It’s when he’s too wrapped up in the mysterious godly bodysuit in front of him that he misses the secret to their privacy. 

Beth bites her lip, eyes glinting with mischief. “I told Jenny we were going to hook up in the bathroom.” 

“...You what?” 

“Just kidding! I told Jenny I clogged the toilet.” 

Rick’s eyes widen at the mental image, and the way Beth bursts out laughing has him go slightly insane.  It’s just a joke but she has no idea how much he wants it; wants to push her through that tempting door.

But no. This is a mission. Or at least, half of one. And Rick should probably try kissing Beth first before scheming how to make out with her.

 Faintly, Rick hears that beeping now. 

Beth doesn’t ask Rick for Chuck yet. He’s surprised, but somehow not at the same time. Beth has absorbed much of Chuck’s wisdom by osmosis. She doesn’t exactly need him. Beth is a stellar detective of her own right; investigative intuition, unassuming, good at deduction and logic and can somehow read through people alarmingly well. 

“Here,” she says and pulls open a door. 

It’s a dark storage closet and the beeping gets loud. Beth closes the door behind them, and Rick fumbles, arm along the wall knocking over items until he finds the light switch. 

“Holy shit.” 

Beth jerks away. Rick pulls her back in his arms. Cindy’s stepmother sits tied in a chair, a pleasant smile on her face. Neck bent at an awkward angle, brown hair tilted sideways. Bobbi Burman’s blouse is exposed, the buttons undone. Rick immediately turns, not wanting to look deliberately, but Beth gasps out a sound that forces him to. Instead of a bra there’s a compartment left open, wires and wires and wires tumbling out like intestines. The inside blares on. Beeping, beeping, beeping. 

“Rick,” Beth hisses, sucking in a pained breath, she spins around and squeezes her eyes shut, her stomach obviously turned. She hides her face in his shirt like she doesn’t want to see it. Like they’ve stumbled upon a dead body and Bobbi’s corpse has been left to decay. 

“I got you.” His hands move against her bodysuit to comfort her. “You don’t have to look.” 

It’s no corpse, though. This woman’s body. There’s no way. Not with the rigid posture, that demure smile. The skin tight at her eyes, bright, still bright. None of this matters to Beth. Rick smoothes his hand along her back, still wary of those lacy sleeves. He can’t help but stare. They thought Bobbi Burman was dead.  

It makes sense, though it’s no less sickening. One day Bobbi…disappeared. Cindy mentioned something in passing about a mistake with Eclipso. 

Bobbi doesn’t look touched by Eclipso. 

She looks like…a robot.

 Pat and Beth never had bad things to say about Bobbi. Bobbi likely didn’t deserve this. To be shoved into a closet to be forgotten, broken and repeating a distress signal. But Rick thinks of Matt back home on his worst nights and thinks Cindy can turn her guardian on or off with a flick of a switch. 

Must be nice. 

Rick lets that thought go, slowly turning Beth back around. “It’s not a bomb. I think.” 

Beth shakes her head. “I think Cindy is too vain to blow up her own house.” 

“True.” 

“What should we do?”

She takes a shuddering deep breath and walks towards the chair with Bobbi. He stays by the wall of empty shelves, reaching behind for the zipper of the bag on his back. 

“I need Chuck.” 

He hands over the goggles just as she finishes the sentence. She glances up, appreciatively.

 “One step ahead of you.” 

“Thanks,” she says, and then the thick band is secure around her head. Right away, she’s straight to work. 

And there she is, his Dr. Mid-Nite. 

“Chuck says it’s likely Bobbi has been…um, robotically cloned…And deprogrammed incorrectly, which is what set off the distress signal.”

“Robotically cloned?” Rick repeats less confidently. 

“Robotically cloned,” Beth says with a nod. “No trace of a human body.” 

Alright.  “Deprogrammed incorrectly?” He frowns. “What does that mean?”

Beth stares off at nothing, a habit Rick has learned meant she’s concentrating as Chuck is explaining to her something on the goggles’ screen. 

“Her consciousness is a downloadable database derived from natural memories stored from Dragon King’s experimentation.” Beth clicks on a button on the goggle’s left side. “She’s still online.”  

Rick glances back at Bobbi’s motionless expression of happiness. 

“What the hell does that mean?”

“No, I think she’s a sentient artificially crafted body in the likeness of a real person’s stolen personality.”

“What? So, she’s a what? A female Chuck AI for the ISA?”

“Don’t be rude,” Beth sasses at him. His mouth quirks up when she least expects it. She scrunches up her face, displeased that he’s enjoying the way she just scolded him.  

“You don’t know for sure, don’t you?” he teases. 

“No, I don’t! And it’s freaking me out!” Beth gets more panicked. “Is she in pain? Do you think she knows she’s online but can’t move?” 

It’s very endearing that Beth can look at the mechanics of a robot and still sound as worried for its welfare as though it were flesh and blood. Rick crouches down to stare at the mess of wires. “I’m not an engineer.”

“Pretty good with an engine though,” she encourages. “Isn’t it a bit of the same thing?”

He studies the wires as his cheeks warm. “Not quite. Thanks for the vote of confidence though.” The wires weren’t just unplugged, they seemed frayed. Cut. Rick did know how to fix up a car but he’d never put together something he didn’t mind too bad if it got in a crash. “I think we need to get her to Pat.” 

“I was worried you’d say that.” Beth checks to make sure the hallway outside is still clear. 

Rick helps her remove the ropes tying Bobbi to the chair. He scoops the body once she’s freed. Beth does her best to pile in the wires that spilled out of the compartment. She shuts it and buttons the expensive blouse so Bobbi won’t be exposed. 

“This is going to look so bad.” From his vantage point, he’s carrying an unconscious woman out of a house party. “Can you get Courtney?” 

“Won’t that draw more attention? Three people walking out with her rather than two?”

“It’s going to look bad either way,” he says frankly. “Unless you can come up with a better idea.”

Beth paused to think, slowly turning around. She tilted her head up to look above at Rick. Her gaze fixated above his head. 

“What are you looking for?”

“Vents. I don’t think we’d fit in them though. There isn’t a window here but I think I remember seeing one in the bathroom.” 

“You have got to stop jumping out of Cindy Burman’s house through the windows.”

She flashed him a shaky grin. “Two time’s the charm?”

Rick almost growls. “You know that comes in threes.”

She lifts a finger, anticipating that. “Which is why you’ll catch me and Bobbi Burman.”

Rick already knew there was no way of talking Beth out of this one. “You seriously want me to fling her out of the window?” 

“Not fling. I’ll get her out for you first once you’re down. And then, it’s my turn.”

“I’m getting the sense you are attached to this plan. You’re supposed to be scared of heights.” 

Beth grins at him. “I know you’ll catch me.” 

Rick is momentarily silent as his stomach twists at those words with a feeling that is the opposite of sickness. He’s had a huge dose of that today. Rick needs it to stop. 

“What other one is there?” As Dr. Mid-Nite is known, she indeed has a solid point. Rick sighs, hauling Bobbi Burman over his shoulder as they return to the hallway, dragging wires like a dozen tiny snakes behind him.

Beth ushers him quickly while the hallway is still clear. Rick acknowledges the irony of finding himself in the bathroom with Beth for real. He flips his hourglass over and almost breaks the window’s screen door open. Beth rattles off the plan, wrapping Bobbi’s cords with a spare hair elastic on the counter. She stuffs Bobbi Burman’s chest cavity with face cloths from a sink drawer to muffle the beeping. Rick closes the lid to the toilet to stand on it, trying to use as little strength in his steps to not break it. He’d actually hate himself if he accidentally floods Beth’s nice shoes. 

“I’m going,” Rick warns, facing outside. It’s a decent drop to the ground from this floor, but not anything that makes Rick concerned for himself at the hour. 

Beth shoots him two thumbs up. 

Halfway out the window, the doorknob shakes. Rick whips his head back, bracing his weight between the sill and the wall. 

Beth’s eyes grow wide behind the goggles. “What do I do?” 

The person bangs it again. “Hello?” 

Beth runs to press her back against the door. It’s locked, but she doesn’t take the chance. “...It’s occupied!” 

“I need to get in there!” someone says on the other side. 

“Uhhhh!” Beth starts to panic. Rick could just jump down and ditch her to deal with it but he’d never do that to her. “It’s clogged!” 

“It’s not to piss! I cut my thumb. I need the bandaids in there!” 

“What do I say?” she hisses at him. 

Rick takes three seconds to kiss his dignity goodbye. “Don’t!” he shouts at the door. “We’re going to be in here for a while.” 

It goes quiet on the other side. “Oh.” 

Rick and Beth both sigh with relief. 

“Wait, I know that voice...Oh my god?” Their voice floats down the hall. “Beth Chapel and the keg guy are hooking up?”  

Beth bugs her eyes out at him from behind the goggles. Rick shrugs at her defensively before jumping. “It was your joke.” 

He lands badly but doesn’t feel a crunch, which is a good sign. Beth leans out the window. Her voice cuts in through the hourglass or his suit or whatever (he never managed to figure out how that worked) from her goggles. 

“I’m bringing Bobbi down now.”

He looks around to make sure nobody else is paying attention to the very compromising situation happening in Cindy Burman’s side yard. This might be one of the only times ever Rick will be caught being thankful that she is so rich. 

“Okay.” Rick shakes his limbs out. “Hurry.”

For someone who did not want her to get flung out the window, Beth quite comically dumps Bobbi over the edge. Catching her isn’t the problem for Rick. Hiding her in the bushes is. 

“And you’re sure that nobody sees that?” Rick kicks the left high heel sticking out of the rose garden. He knows he just spent a decent amount of time calling her a robot, but seeing that foot dangling out like that makes him a little ill. 

“Not from my angle.” 

“From any angle?” Rick stresses. He waits as Beth churns out a Chuck Maps result. 

“Should be fine if I go quick.” Rick doesn’t get to process what that means before she’s half out the window herself. 

“Beth! Wait!” 

She jumps and Rick scrambles, his heart ramming into his chest like a train wreck. She lands with an oomph in his arms. Rick catches his breath, steadying himself as she smiles up at him. He needs a moment, leaning against the brick wall. It’s like he’s the one that tumbled out of a two-storey house.  

“Aren’t you going to say gotcha?” 

Rick peeks an eye open at her,  sweeping his gaze up and down. “Got ya.” It’s deja vu. 

Beth doesn’t make a move to wiggle away and Rick doesn’t set her down either. She darts in for a kiss on his cheek, goggles glass and all pressed against his face. “Thank you for the save.”

“My pleasure,” Rick replies like a disaster, unable to string any other coherent words into a sentence. Not with the adrenaline pumping in his bloodstream. Not with her arms still cozied around his neck. Not with the fact there are people actively thinking he’s doing things with her in a bathroom upstairs as they undergo a getaway.  

“We have a distressed robot in the bushes,” he reminds her, truly hating to break the moment, but he cannot afford more jail time just because he got momentarily stuck after a cheek kiss. He reluctantly sets Beth down. 

“Right.” Beth adjusts her goggles again. “Bring the Mustang around. To the Pit Stop we go.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” 

Rick breaks into a jog as she turns around, hands still pressed to her head. “Focus Beth,” he hears the curtail of her own pep talk. “Stop getting distracted over Rick!” 

[dknuth]

Alsace Hiking - Day 1

Today was the first day of my solo hiking trip in Alsace. I started in Eguisheim and hiked to Turkheim.

I could see my first destination for the day on top of the hills above Eguisheim; three stone towers, the Three Castles of Eguisheim.

The walk started on gradual slopes through the local vineyards. This is one of the larger wine-producing areas in France. It's a cooler climate and they focus more on white wines. I've always liked Alsatian wines. They grow many of the same varieties as in Germany but finish them much drier. I like the drier Gevertzheimer especially.

As I approached the base of the wooded hills I passed through the village of Husseren. It seems to have become a town with many fine modern homes. Weekend Places perhaps?

Then the route left the roads and paths through the fields and up the hills on rocky and steep paths to the top where the three Castles stood. They struck me as strange; three tall narrow towers standing in close proximity. I couldn't find a good explanation for this, except that it was common at the time.

Later on, the ownership of the castles splintered between family members and then became irrelevant and abandoned.

After the castles, the path became wider and less rocky, so easy walking as I wandered along the upper levels of the hills before coming to the Chateau du Hohlandsbourg. This was a massive rectangular structure of high walls.

Inside it was quite roomy, with a keep on the rocky core and plenty of room for other buildings. This was a more significant castle, but one whose ownership changed through the centuries as families and country's situations changes. It was a Hapsburg castle for several periods. It has a great view in 360 degrees, other than the haze.

I could see my start in Eguisheim and my end point for the day in Turkheim, which speaks to both the view and the limited ground I was covering.

Then it was down, down, down the hill to the valley and Turkheim.

Turkheim feels very different than Eguisheim. It has large modern suburbs and is on a train line. The old center is looser and not as constrained by the old walls. But in the end, it makes it less interesting to a traveler. But probably more practical for a resident.

My hotel is The Duex Clefs, an older building that gives the lobby some character but doesn't do much for the rooms. My room was on the 4th floor, but US counting and there is no elevator. So I was actually glad when my luggage wasn't there yet when I arrived and they carried it up to me.

[wafflesetc]

this love

Intelligence thought they were dealing with a small drug operation within the limits of their own city, until their wires got crossed with the Feds. And with the Feds an old friend has come back into town, trying to repair old wounds.

A/N: We are nearing the end of this story, with one more chapter. Possibly two because, you know, things change as I write and I think one more might be necessary. There's a small change with this chapter at the end, a slight different POV for just a minute. You'll see it when you get there. I felt like it was a needed moment in the story, so sorry for the change.

Previously in Chapter 4 

this love on ao3

“Hailey, second message…. I saw you called me but you didn’t leave a voicemail. Call me back when you get this, I love you.” He ends the voicemail and looks up from his desk to see Trudy standing over him. “What’s up, Sarge?”

“What have you been up to the last few hours?” She asks casually checking the watch on her wrist.

“I’ve been in interrogation for the past few hours… We picked up some low level dealers and we were trying to get the names of some of the suppliers.” He can feel the small edge in her voice and his detective senses are starting to go off, something doesn’t feel right. “Why?”

“Listen… Don’t freak out…” She starts, but his gut was right, something was definitely wrong.

“Trudy.” He nearly pleads.

“It’s Hailey, alright. All I know was when they were out on surveillance they saw someone watching their car. She radioed in for help and I sent Adam and Kevin to go help them… But by the time they got there, gunfire had been exchanged. She’s awake and at Med getting treated. That’s all I know.”

He doesn’t say a word but gives her a nod, reaches for his truck key, and finds himself running down the stairs of the district.

                                  ________________________________

The roar of the engine is the only sound he hears as he drives down the streets of Chicago. It’s dark, a cooler summer night and he sees people on the street- walking their dogs, holding hands with their partner, sitting at restaurants drinking a glass of red wine.

The things he wants to do with Hailey- they haven’t had the time yet.

He hits a light and curses under his breath, feeling the vibration of his phone in his pocket.

“Halstead,” He answers sharply.

“Halstead, this is Dr. Halstead…” Will sarcastically replies.

He doesn’t miss a beat or give any banter back, “How bad is it?”

His brother must hear the panic and fear in his voice, “Calm down, Jay.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, all I know was that Hailey was shot hours ago and I am just now finding out about it. She’s my wife, Will, don’t make me ask you again.”

“I’m sorry man, I didn’t know you didn’t know. But it was a through and through, in her abdomen. I would have taken care of her myself, but seeing as we’re family now, I wasn’t allowed to treat her. I did stay in the room, with her permission.”

“And?” He asks, he knows there’s more that Will wants to tell him.

“It was cleaned out, she is getting stitched up as we speak. Minor internal damage, but she doesn’t need surgery to fix any of it. She’ll need to take it easy for the next week, and come back for an MRI in ten days to make sure the internal stuff is healing and that there is no infection. Dr. Marcel treated her, she’s on some antibiotics for preventative measures.”

“Thank god.” He breathes under his breath.

“How far out are you?” Will asks him.

“Ten minutes- I’m pulling police privilege and double parking outside the ED.” Jay says, mostly to himself because he can’t imagine wasting five or ten more minutes trying to find a parking spot.

“I figured you would- I already warned security, not that I really need to because you’re a cop…”

“Thanks man,” He takes a breath as he turns the corner, “And how is Erin?”

“Some bruised ribs, concussion from hitting the concrete. You know I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but more or less she got out cut free. And listen, Jay, I know you’re still bitter about things with her, but stay calm when you’re here, ok? Hailey is alright…”

“I will. See you soon.” He hangs up the phone, turning on the lights of the truck, not wasting another second.

                                 ________________________________

It’s cold when he enters the ED and he immediately remembers why he hates this place. The dull lighting, the sterile smells, the doctors, the needles.

He sees Will standing at the nurses station with two cups of coffee in his hand. “Here you go, bro… You look like you need it.”

Jay shakes his head in response, taking the cup from his hand. “Where is she?”

“This way.” Will says gesturing for his brother to follow him.

As they round the corner, a flash of familiar brunette hair stops him.

“Jay.” Erin says, matter of factly.

“Erin,” He says curtly, because he wants to be mad, angry, and upset at her. He wants to be so many things. She walked away unscathed, and it was his wife, Hailey- his partner- was the one who took the bullet. And Hailey, she doesn’t deserve that.

“One hell of a partner you got there,” Erin says, signing a piece of paper. “She’s tough, just like you.”

“She is,” is all that he can seem to muster.

“Listen,” Erin says, placing the pen on the counter. “It was inevitable, we were waiting for Ruz and Kev to show up, but it all happened so fast. Hailey saw the car first and knocked me to the ground to get out the line of fire. I’d probably be dead or hooked up to a ventilator if it weren’t for her, okay?”

“Erin…”

“I’m just saying, I owe her my life, Jay. Show her a little grace, she was just doing her job. You would have done the same thing, even if it were me… And she’d be the one coming to you like this.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Erin…” Jay says but hears his wife’s voice in the distance.

“Go.” Erin says, pointing to a curtain a few feet away.

“Yeah this way,” Will steers him towards the curtain, “I’ll check in on you two in a bit.”

Will pulls the curtain and he sees her blonde, erratic hair covering her face as she’s reading some paperwork.

“Hailey Anne Upton.” Jay breathes, half in relief, half in frustration.

She laughs at him, handing the nurse a five dollar bill.

“I told you.”

He walks in, stands at the foot of the bed and raises an eyebrow at her.

“You are right,” The nurse smiles, taking the paperwork from Hailey’s hands. “Attractive, protective, and one hell of an ass…. You sure did score.”

“I did.” Hailey muses making eye contact with him.

He stands his ground, staying at the foot of the bed and crosses his arms, eying his wife who is in a hospital gown.

“I’m fine.” She says, almost nonchalantly, trying to reach for her go bag on the bed.

“Hailey…”

“You know it’s nice to see you on the receiving end of this kind of news. Seeing as I’ve seen you in here because you’ve been shot on me… Twice now.” She laughs, but the movement causes her to wince a little and hold her stomach.

“I told you laughing would hurt,” The nurse says. “I’ve got your discharge paperwork all ready, once you change and talk with him, I’ll come back and we’ll get you out of here.”

The nurse leaves the room and it’s finally just the two of them.

‘Why didn’t you call me?” He asks, rounding the bed and sitting by her feet.

“Because I know how you would be, Jay. Look at you.”

“Of course I am like this, you got shot.”

“It was a through and through, okay. I passed out on the concrete because it hurt like a bitch, but once I got here I realized it wasn’t that bad. I wanted to save you a few minutes of panic and heartache.”

“Well hearing the news from Platt, it was a little more shell shock than I would have thought.”

“I was going to call you once I was in the car, I passed out from the initial blood loss, Erin thought it was worse than it was… How is she by the way?”

“She’s fine, getting discharged as we speak. She’s got some bruised ribs and a mild concussion.”

“Jay….”

He stands watching his wife try and put on her shirt from her go bag, but struggling to lift her arm up.

“Let me help you,” he walks across the bed and grabs the shirt from her bag, noting the familiar button down. That’s my shirt.”

“It looks better on me.” Hailey smiles as she turns around.

He reaches for the ties on the hospital gown and gently pulls them undone. His hands are ice cold because he hates hospitals, but he hates them even more when Hailey is the patient.

“Your hands are ice-cold,” She notes, turning around. They’re face to face now and she can see the worry in his eyes. “Help me pull this off.”

He nods at her, but takes his pointer finger and runs it over the base of her jaw, staring at her intently. He knows her body, knows how there is one small freckle on the left side of her neck just under her ear; knows the scar on the back of right knee is from an accident when she was wrestling with her brothers when they were kids, knows how her left pointer finger has a scar from a fight with an offender during her rookie year when they almost got her service weapon… Now she has her own bullet scar to match his own. It’s a scar he’d never want her to have to live with.

She can sense his hesitation in wanting to take the gown off, not wanting to have to picture her with gauze and bandages. “Hey,” she stands on her tiptoes and kisses the base of his jaw. “Listen, if it were that bad, you would have been called.. You’re my emergency contact and Will would have called you. I told him not to because I was awake and coherent and could consent to treatment.”

“I should have been there, Hailey.” It’s all he can respond to her, because he feels guilty. She’s his partner- his wife- he promised to be there for her in sickness and in health, and promised to protect her with his body if it came down to it. Not that she couldn’t hold her own, because his wife most definitely could, but still he should have been there.

“There’s the Jay Halstead guilt I was waiting for,” She laughs as she slowly reaches her arms out towards him. “Help me with this please.”

He laughs at that, because damn, she knows him. Slowly, he bends down a bit, and reaches for the shoulders on the gown and pulls them down slowly, letting the gown fall to the floor. He unbuttons his flannel, throwing it over her arms and pulling it around her chest. He starts to button the shirt, his fingers warming thanks to her excessive body heat. He’s halfway up the shirt when he feels her fingers under his chin, tilting his head up towards her gaze.

“You know I love you, right? That I promise to do my best to come home to you every day.” Her words are quiet, and tears fill her eyes.

“I love you, too, Hailey. And I promise my damn hardest to always come home to you, too.” He stands upright again, finishing the buttons on the shirt, ignoring the gauze and bandages because they’ll be there tomorrow, right now all he needs is her. “But for the love of god, we’re not allowed to separate anymore, we stick together, for my own sanity, I beg of you.”

“Best partner I’ve ever had is you, in all arenas- personal, professional, even sexually. You’re pretty good in bed Halstead.” She laughs and reaches for the sweatpants in her bag, looking at him for help.

He rolls his eyes at her because she’s just trying to make him feel better, and damn her because it’s working. He squats to the ground, giving her his shoulder for balance as she steps into each leg of the sweatpants. He pulls them up to her waist and gives her a small kiss on her hip.

“Too bad sex is probably off the table for a little bit.”

“Uhhh, yeah…. But we can do other things.” She gives him a wink as she sits on the bed. “A little help with the shoes?”

“Yes,” He laughs at her, “I never thought I’d tie your shoes until you were massively pregnant one day, but there’s a first time for everything.”

“You and me both.” She agrees, “First time for everything, though. Let’s get my boots back on and take me home, Jay.”

“That I can do.”

                                 ________________________________

Erin Lindsay wanted to stop by Hailey’s room and thank her, again, for saving her life.

As her hand reached the curtain to announce her arrival, she heard Hailey’s voice in the room and Jay’s sigh in response.

“There’s the Jay Halstead guilt I was waiting for, help me with this please. ”

She knows they are talking, a husband and wife moment, a partner moment, but for some reason she stands outside the curtain and listens into their conversation just a bit more as Hailey speaks again.

“You know I love you, right? That I promise to do my best to come home to you every day.”

“I love you, too, Hailey. And I promise my damn hardest to always come home to you, too. But for the love of god, we’re not allowed to separate anymore, we stick together, for my own sanity, I beg of you.”

“Best partner I’ve ever had is you, in all arenas- personal, professional, even sexually. You’re pretty good in bed Halstead.”

She releases her hold on the curtain because she’s heard enough- she knows they’re good for each other.

She saw it in the way Jay looked at Hailey, she experienced it in the car when Hailey told her Jay had learned to keep snacks in the car for her.

She could hear it in the way they just whispered, I love you to one another.

She turns on her heels, because another thank you can wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, Jay and Hailey need each other. She thinks back to emptying her and Jay's apartment, her choice in not telling him what was going on back then. They're both older and wiser now, and she's grown just like him. Her wounds are closing, she's healing in her own time. But tonight, she's glad to see he's healed- found someone to take half of the weight of the world that they live in. She prays one day, she'll be able to have what they have.

[in-christalone]

Hey! Happy new year!

I’m sooo grateful to God for everything & for some really amazing people he has placed in my life. - I had a couple possible new year plans but ended up going to support a friends live music and over did it with the drinks a little. Nothing terrible but for God, I know I don’t want to do that again. Idk what I intended but I’m a massive light weight 😅 I ended up sharing that I’m Christian with one of the girls I recently made friends with and tried to explain how God / Jesus saved me but I don’t know where to go from here yet but I have realised that I don’t want to drink going forward to the extent that I’m even wary to have one.I’ve never been a big drinker and usually struggle finishing drinks lol but I think this has really made me want to stick to it and not now so if you could pray for me and pray that I’d be able to share more of Jesus with this girl in a way that is actually going to be effective I’d really appreciate it!!! :) 🙏💗

Oh no, I hope you didn’t end up getting sick! I know what you mean though, I’m a lightweight too. Can usually only last about half a bottle of beer or a wine cooler, I cut my limit when my cheeks start to warm up, that’s how I know I had enough, right before my common sense starts to dwindle lol

I will pray for you, but if you do end up drinking again just be mindful of where your limit is 😋 drinking isn’t a sin

Look up Ray Comfort on tips how to share the gospel! ♥️

God bless you! Happy new year!

[elitehomewarranty]

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