#wedding dresses in Houston | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hauntingkiki · 3 months

Note

HIII!!! can i request venture wedding hcs? how would their wedding be like with reader? How would they feel while getting ready?

IM CRYINGGG OMGG

SOMEONE PLEASE REQUEST A WEDDING ONESHOT SO I HAVE AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT🙏🏻

Venture x Reader Wedding Headcanons

OverWatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

- let’s just start this off by saying; BABY IS STRESSING OUTTT!!

- they’re about to marry their best friend. YOU! the most BEAUTIFUL GIRL/PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD

- when they’re changing into their suit/with their groomsmen (a few guy colleagues and some of their guy family members) sloan is getting pep talks and words of encouragement from everyone in that room. not a single bad vibe is in the room!

- wedding theme!: whatever you want it to be. a classic, white wedding? you got it! gothic/vampire? hell yeah!

- ^ but! with your choice of theme; sloan also has some huge crystals (that match the theme ofc) that they’ve gotten from expeditions for table decoration!

- the location was kinda on sloan, they picked where they wanted to have the wedding BUT! they made sure YOU were okay with it before making it the finalized decision. if you didn’t like the location, don’t worry! they have like A MILLION MORE

- everyone in both of your families helped pay for the wedding (if needed), like your parents paid for your dress/suit and sloan’s parents paid for their suit

- when they were at the alter, they were sooo nervous, their hands playing with the rings on their fingers and the bracelets that were around their wrists to calm their nerves

- but when you walked down the isle with your father/father figure, all their nerves just melted away.

- you looked so GOOD in their eyes! their heart was racing, their eyes got watery, their face got hot (they cried) (you did too)

- your vows were pretty standard (if there’s spanish vows then yall did that too!)

- but when yall had your first kiss; you know this sucker dipped you into the kiss, twirling you like in those cheesy romance movies (LIKE IN TANGLED AT THE END)

- and now the reception.

- for the food a verity of sloan’s family meals and your family meals, most of them being hand made to avoid a lot of cost

- alcohol/champagne obviously. all the adults are either drunk asf or tipsy (if you have family who smokes/does drugs, it’s totally up to you if you want that in your environment!! i will not be saying anything about that because it’s very different for everyone)

- the younger kids who can’t drink get something fizzy! like apple cider or something!

- father daughter/mother son dance to whatever song you’d like:)

- sloan did a mother-child(son) dance to songbird by fleetwood mac OR mi cariñito by pepe aguilar

- first dance! sloan could not stop smiling like a fucking idiot, they were SO IN LOVEEE

- you both shed a few tears during the dance (and through the night)

- you two slow danced to (options because i can’t pick)

i only have i eyes for by the flamingos

unchained melody by elvis presley

here, there and everywhere by the beatles

bring it on home to me by sam cooke

amor eterno by rocío dúrcal

- everyone was BAWLING THEIR EYES OUT

- then the music played for the dance floor and it was some great songs! like;

september, earth wind and fire

i wanna dance with somebody, whitney houston

how sweet it is, james taylor

something stupid, frank n nancy sinatra

crazy in love, beyoncé

uptown girl, billy joel

rude, magic!

every little thing she does is magic, the police

and obviously some other songs!

- (FOR THE GIRLS/PEOPLE WEARING DRESSES) yall know the garter toss? where the groom goes under the brides dress to get it off all ‘sexy’ with the most embarrassing song on the planet while your family watched?

- yeah. yall did that.

- obviously with no littles present (14 and younger went somewhere else while this was happening)

- the song? pick your poison

get low, lil jon & the east side boyz

yeah!, usher

earned it, the weekend

let’s get it on, marvin gaye

grind with me, pretty ricky

- ^ COMPLETELY RANDOM, I WAS LOOKING FOR SONGS FOR THE GARTER TOSS AND THE PINK PANTHER THEME STARTED PLAYING…AND WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS BY QUEEN I CANT

- sloan definitely used their teeth to take it off, probably also got a little carried away too; kissing your legs and running their hands up and down before snapping back to reality when their mother literally SCREAMED at them for being under your dress for almost 5 minutes

- after the wedding, the two of you got to your hotel/air bnb and just relaxed, got out of your fancy outfits, took makeup off, showered (together LMAO) and just got comfy!

- you both just kind of talked about the night and what you wanted in the future and other things:)

- let’s just say you two didn’t get a lot of sleep afterwards😳

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

did i just write this all in one sitting? yes. yes i did.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I LOVED IT!!

would you guys be interested if i made a wedding playlist for the (hypothetical) oneshot?😳

#fanfic #reading #request are welcome #requested #overwatch #characterxreader #overwatch2 #venture #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #venture x reader #sloane x reader #sloan x reader #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #headcanon #hauntingkiki

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year

Note

HI BESTIE !!! 🫂

i was wondering how Joel would react to Doc spoiling him ROTTEN after she got that big girl money 🫦 (in the lavender au)

(because i know she will spoil him so much as a thank you for his unwavering support throughout her career 🥹)

OMG Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so so SO much. Joel is so soft with his girls and he deserves all the good things, including his wife treating him to all the best things once she's a big time surgeon.

This is just the perfect prompt for our favorite man's birthday, too! I hope this is just what you were hoping for. Love you!

Spoiled

After years of Joel taking care of you, you take care of Joel. A one shot set in the Lavender AU timeline.

Yes I know it's not a Joel gif but it fits the fic so well I had to.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Joel and Doc from the Lavender AU)

Warnings: Fluff and smut, smut and fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4.4K

It started with a shopping trip in Houston for Sarah’s wedding.

She needed a dress for the rehearsal and her bachelorette party and the malls in Austin just weren’t cutting it.

“I’m telling you,” she said after coming up empty handed on another Saturday spent shopping as the two of you ate salads and drank sweet tea at a patio cafe. “We need to go to Houston. We haven’t found anything for you, either.”

“I can just…” you began, but Sarah cut you off.

“Mom,” she raised her brows. “You do not get to say ‘just’ anything about my wedding, come on.”

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled.

“Alright,” you put your hands up in surrender. “I’ve got the weekend off again in two weeks, I’ll get us a hotel room in Houston and we can shop til we drop.”

“I’m going to get you comfortable with spending some of those big surgeon bucks one of these days,” she said. “You need to treat yourself! Live a little!”

“I live plenty, thank you,” you replied. “And I do it just fine in my Goodwill jeans.”

“Whatever you say,” she smirked a little, flagging down the server and grabbing the bill before you had a chance to fight her on it.

Sarah might have had a point. You’d been an attending for the better part of a year now and the jump in pay had been staggering. You were making more now in a year than you had your entire life - or it felt that way, anyway. You’d already made good progress paying off your student loans but you made quick work of the rest. Joel had asked if you wanted to move - something bigger or better somehow - now that you could easily afford it but you’d just frowned at him, almost hurt.

“This is our home,” you said. “I fell in love with you here, Sarah grew up here, we made Evie here. This is the first place I ever really felt like I belonged, I don’t want to leave.”

Joel just smiled and kissed your forehead.

“Then we’ll stay,” he said. “Moving’s a fuckin’ hassle anyway.”

You’d just been saving money, not really sure what to do with it. You donated some of it, stopped spending time clipping coupons, finally bought a car that was from this decade (but still used). But actually spending it made you anxious. You’d never had money before. You weren’t poor, exactly. You’d always had enough to eat and a roof over your head but you almost never bought new clothes, had never really traveled outside of places that you could easily get to by car. You were pretty sure you’d never even been in a car that wasn’t at least 10 years old before you came to college and your friend Cassie gave you a ride to the store in her new BMW. It was hard to get used to the idea that money could be spent at all, that it wasn’t already earmarked for some bill or, if there was any left, that it had to be saved for a rainy day.

“You gotta actually spend some of that hard earned money on yourself, Baby,” Joel said as you headed outside to meet Sarah for your weekend in Houston. “Buy some ridiculously expensive dress that I’m gonna want to rip off you in seconds or some purse that’s $1,000 for reasons I don’t understand.”

“That’s two mortgage payments,” you said, eyes wide.

“Baby.”

“Right, right,” you nodded. “On a mission, spend money. Got it.”

“On yourself,” he added. “Not Sarah. Or not just Sarah, anyway. You two have fun.”

“You too,” you said, stretching up to kiss him goodbye. “Don’t let Evie con you into giving her candy when she gets home from school.”

“What wild thing and I get up to when you’re not around is none of your business,” he gave you one last peck on the lips. “Now go, stop worryin’, live a little.”

The mall in Houston was almost overwhelming. Not in the crowds way malls sometimes were for you, thank goodness, but with the kinds of stores. There were names you recognized from Cassie’s closet and from some of the trust fund girls in your med school program but you realized quickly you had no concept of what things like this actually cost.

Sarah picked a dress for the rehearsal that was nearly $600 and you choked on the champagne the sales person had given you to sip while Sarah tried on options.

“You really buy $600 dresses?” You gaped at her as you wandered back into the store from the dressing rooms.

“Not all the time,” she shrugged. “But we make good money and sometimes it’s fun to buy something nice.”

She held up a floor length gown to you, the bottom pooling on the ground.

“That’s too long,” you said.

“Well we’d get it tailored,” she laughed a little. “Come on, try it on.”

Another sales person wandered over and offered to set up a fitting room and you snuck a peek at the price tag. Your eyes went wide.

“That dress is $1200!” You whispered at Sarah as you trailed after the attendant.

“And it’s for my wedding,” she replied. “And don’t you have that gala thing every spring for work? You can wear it for that, you need a new dress for that anyway. Plus I’m the bride and I say you have to try it on. You can’t disappoint the bride.”

You sighed and went into the fitting room, feeling utterly out of place in your second hand Levis and vintage top you’d picked up on a shopping trip a few weeks back that felt much more your speed.

But the dress - outside of the length - looked like it had been made for you. The silk hugged your every curve, the neckline dipping just low enough to display just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it would be scandalous. It was simple, no embellishments beyond the structure of the dress and the deep emerald green of the fabric. Normally you’d have scoffed at something so basic fetching such a high price but, now that it was on your body, you understood it. It was like you’d put on a work of art and, in doing so, become art yourself.

“OK you can’t laugh,” you said. “But I’m coming out.”

Sarah was waiting patiently in the little show room attached to your fitting room and you had to hold up the hem of the dress to not trip but she gasped all the same.

“Oh Mom,” her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “You look incredible.”

“Yeah?” You asked, turning in the mirrors to look at yourself from every angle. “I don’t look like I’m playing dress up?”

“Not at all,” she spoke with almost a sense of reverence, looking you up and down. “You’re getting that dress. I’ll buy it for you if you won’t…”

“No, Sarah,” you protested but she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before you had a chance to really realize what she was doing. “What was that for?”

“I’m sending this to Dad…” her voice trailed off and she took a sip of champagne just as her phone rang. She smirked and answered, putting it on speaker phone. “Speak of the devil. Hey old man, your wife is trying to tell me this dress costs too much.”

“I don’t care if that dress costs $200,000 she’s bringing it home,” Joel said. “She hear me?”

“Yes,” Sarah smiled, a shit eating grin if there ever was one.

“Good,” he said. “Baby, you look so damn amazing I’m about to jump in the truck and drive over there just to see you in that thing in person sooner. Save me a trip, bring it home, alright?”

“Alright,” you sighed.

“Didn’t quite hear that,” Joel said.

“I said alright you dork,” you said a little, grinning in spite of yourself.

“That’s my girl.”

You bought the dress. And a bag that Sarah insisted you needed for work because she was tired of seeing you haul around a canvas tote. And shoes for the dress.

When you passed the jeweler window, you were on the way to the car after spending so much money you were surprised you hadn’t fainted. You stopped, the hanger with the garment bag for the dress hooked in your fingers over your shoulder, and looked at the watch sitting in the window.

It was large and silver but not too ornate, no diamonds or anything like that. The face of the watch was black with elegant white roman numerals on the face.

“What?” Sarah asked, stopping next to you.

“Do you think your dad would like that?” You asked, head cocked a little, still looking at the timepiece through the glass.

“Yeah,” Sarah said after a moment. “Seems like a him watch, if he were going to wear a nice watch, anyway.”

Joel did already have a watch. A simple one with a green strap and silver colored case and a black face. You and Sarah had picked it out together for his birthday one year. She’d been giddy about it, you had to all but beg her to keep it a secret for a few days until it came time to give it to him. He loved the thing, wore it every day, even more than a decade later.

But your career wasn’t the only one that had advanced. Joel was no longer doing the manual labor of a contractor every day. More often than not, he was going to meet with clients and arrange contracts and make plans. For a lot of those meetings, he wore a suit and, for a lot of those meetings, you saw him stick his watch in his pocket before leaving the house instead of putting it on.

“Hard sometimes,” he said when you’d asked him about it. “Fittin’ in with these clients.”

“Let me just…” you doubled back to the entrance to the store and went inside.

The watch was more than you thought it would be. A lot more. So, so much more. You watched as the sale’s person’s eyes went from encouraging and hopeful to let down when you reacted to the price.

“One second,” you smiled sheepishly and pulled out your phone, going into your banking app. Even after spending an arm and a leg on yourself that day, the number in your personal checking account seemed obscenely high. More money than you’d ever had at once until very, very recently. You could afford the watch. You looked at the sales person and smiled.

“I’ll take it.”

You had several very strong cocktails when out to dinner with Sarah that night to make yourself feel a little better about spending thousands of dollars on things like clothes and a watch and she just smiled.

“See, Mom? You spent some money on yourself and the apocalypse did not happen, I think you can actually buy yourself things from time to time.”

“And things for your dad,” you said. “Because he needs nice things, too.”

When you got home, Joel insisted that you model the dress for him.

“It needs to be tailored,” you tried to protest.

“Not for me to take it off you it doesn’t,” he smiled from his spot on the couch, beer in hand.

“Fine,” you said. “But only if you let me model everything I bought and you can’t return any of it.”

“Deal.”

You went to your bedroom and put on the dress and the shoes and took the watch out of the bag, the face almost comically large on your wrist, before going back to the living room, hem of the dress in hand.

“Jesus Christ Baby,” he looked at you, his eyes wide. “You look… fuck me.”

“That is the idea,” you winked. “You like it?”

“Like is a fuckin’ understatement,” he said, getting up and walking around you slowly, his eyes going up and down your body. “You know, Evie’s at a friend’s for two more hours…”

“So you’re not going to make me return anything I have on?” You asked.

“Fuck no.”

“Not this dress?” You started unzipping the side before sliding the straps down your arms.

“Dress stays,” he said, gently tugging it down and exposing your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts.

“What about the shoes?” You asked, putting a sandaled foot out from below the hem. He glanced down, eyes ranging over the straps.

“Those stay, too,” he said, going back to kissing your chest. “Everything you’ve got on stays, already agreed to that.”

“Good,” you said as he made it to your neck. “Even this?”

You held up your wrist, the watch sliding down your arm.

He frowned, looking at it.

“Don’t look like you’re style,” he said. “But if it makes you happy, Baby, keep it.”

“Never said it was for me, Joel,” you smiled a little. You watched him piece it together, taking a moment for him to dawn on him.

“No,” he shook his head, looking from your arm to your face. “No, you were supposed to get stuff for yourself for a change not…”

“I did get stuff for me,” you said. “And I got this for you. Because you’re wearing suits more now and I wanted you to have the watch for that. So really, it is for me.”

He took your wrist gently in one hand, elbow in the other, tilting your arm this way and that to look at the watch in different lights.

“Baby, this…” he shook his head again. “This is too much, this is…”

“Not for you,” you cut him off. “Not after everything you’ve given me. This is not enough. But it’s a start. Besides, you said I got to keep everything I was wearing. You already agreed to it, Miller.”

“Baby,” he sighed.

“Joel,” you smiled a little. “You’re my husband. Let me give you something nice. Please.”

He brought the inside of your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, making your pulse flutter against his mouth.

“Already gave me the best thing there is,” he said. “Anything more feels like I’m stealin’ it.”

“Steal whatever you want, Miller,” you teased. “But you’re keeping the watch.”

Joel ended up wearing the watch often. Not as much as the Sarah watch - and he stuck with the Sarah watch for her wedding - but at least once a week for meetings where he needed to dress up for. Every time you gave him a little knowing smile and every time he rolled his eyes a little before kissing you goodbye. But you had yet to get him to accept anything like it in the years since, Joel trying to dodge everything every time you spent money on him.

So when his birthday was around the corner, you were bound and determined to get him something good.

“Anything you want for your birthday?” You asked as you, Joel and Ellie wandered around a street fair, meandering towards the car show. “Anything you want to do?”

“S’not like it’s a big one,” he shrugged. “Just 56. Would love to see all my girls, of course. Could use some new tongs for the grill.”

“Tongs?” Ellie said, brows raised. “Seriously? Old people are so WEIRD.”

“You know what kiddo?” Joel smiled a little, faking exasperation. “We’ll see how you’re doin’ when you’re pushin’ 60.”

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose and wandered to the first car in the row of vehicles on display. You laughed, strolling along with Joel until he stopped at a beautiful old convertible, giving a low whistle.

“What?” You asked.

“Just a pretty fuckin’ car,” he said, his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly around it. “Always wanted one of these when I was a kid.”

“Yeah?” You asked, getting an idea.

“Neighbor had one,” he nodded. “Let me ride in the back once. Coolest fuckin’ car.”

He looked over every inch of the thing and Ellie caught up with you while he did, pouting a little as she leaned on the door of the car, her chin propped on her folded arms.

“I’m starving,” she groaned. “Can I go get some fries at least?”

“Sure,” you laughed a little, pulling some cash out of your pocket. “Grab me a lemonade, too?”

You watched as she went to the food stands and you and Joel moved on, walking slowly down the row of cars when Ellie caught up with you again, passing you the lemonade. Joel stole a fry from her cup.

“Hey!” She protested. “Go get your own!”

“Might have to,” he said, giving her a wink. “Back in a sec.”

You waited until he was out of earshot before you grabbed Ellie.

“Do me a favor,” you said. “That car we were looking at? The blue one? Can you go talk to the owner and find out what make, model and year it is?”

“I guess,” she frowned. “Why?”

“Because,” you said. “I found something your dad wants besides tongs.”

You went and stood in line with Joel, keeping him distracted while Ellie did recon. She took some pictures of the car and texted you all the information which you texted to Andrew as Joel drove home from the fair.

“Can you help me find this car?” You asked him. “One that’s for sale?”

“Becoming a collector?” He texted back.

“Joel’s birthday,” you added a smilie face emoji.

“Excellent,” he replied. “I’ll find you something, don’t worry.”

It took a few weeks but Andrew found the car. A blue 1967 Mustang Convertible that was being sold down in San Antonio. He went down with you to help you test drive it - you didn’t know a damn thing about cars - and you bought it on the spot.

“He’s going to freak the fuck out,” Andrew said, driving it home since you couldn’t drive stick. “Seriously, you might give the man a heart attack…”

You rolled your eyes but laughed all the same.

“I really hope he loves it,” you said, running your fingers over the dash.

“I’ll take it off your hands if he doesn’t,” Andrew smiled. “Just don’t tell Jess.”

Tommy agreed to store the car in his garage until Joel’s party at his house in two weeks and you were giddy as you drove home, feeling like a kid at Christmas as you tried to keep the car a secret.

By the time the party rolled around, even Ellie was excited and having a hard time holding it together.

“It’s really just a cookout at Tommy’s,” Joel said as the three of you piled in the car to head over. “Not sure why you two are actin’ like we’re going to fuckin’ Six Flags…”

“Tommy’s cooler than you,” Ellie said. “Nice to spend time with someone who isn’t a total dinosaur…”

“Alright, in the car kiddo,” Joel smiled and shook his head a little. “Can’t take you anywhere ’til seatbelts are on, let’s go!”

You texted Tommy that you were on the way and he responded with a picture of the car, shiny in his driveway with a big, red bow on the hood.

“He’s going to lose his mind, Kid,” he texted back. “Please tell Maria I want this same treatment when I’m old.”

“Better put in some work to deserve it, Miller,” you replied, smiling a little.

Joel parked on the street, frowning at the car in Tommy’s driveway.

“When the hell’d Tommy get a Mustang?” He got out, his frown deepening. You almost laughed.

“He didn’t,” you smiled, so big it was like your face was going to crack.

Joel looked confused for half a moment before his mouth dropped open in shock.

“No,” he shook his head. Ellie leaned between the front seats, grinning hugely, “No, no that’s… Baby. No.”

“Suck it up, old man,” Ellie smirked as Sarah and Brandon came out of the house, little Carson making a beeline for the car. Sarah and Brandon waved as Tommy and Maria joined them in the yard. Ellie pulled the keys out of her pocket and dangled them between you and Joel. He took them, staring at them in his hand for a second.

“Should take it before I do,” Tommy hollered and you laughed as you got out of the car and followed an almost dazed Joel toward the Mustang.

He walked, in awe, around the car twice.

“I…” he said but stopped, staring at the convertible for a moment. “I don’t….”

“Do you like it?” You asked, coming up beside him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Fuckin’ love it,” he said, immediately looking at you. “But Baby, this is too much, way too much, I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you smiled up at him. He looked down at you, the awed expression still on his face. “After everything you’ve done for me? For us? Everything you’ve sacrificed, all the ways you take care of me and our girls? The life you gave me? Still not enough, Joel. Not for you.”

He pulled you tight to him and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you,” he said, his voice wet. “So goddamn much, Baby.”

Tommy set up chairs and a table in the front yard so everyone could sit near the car while celebrating Joel. He kept looking over at it in disbelief before looking at you with eyes filled with gratitude and wonder. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart felt quite so full.

You drove Ellie home, following slowly behind Joel in the new convertible.

“OK I know what this shit means,” Ellie said, gesturing between you and Joel after you got home, your husband clutching you to his side. “Try to keep it down and not be gross about it because ugh.”

“Was actually going to see if you wanted to take the car for a spin,” you smiled up at Joel. “Just you and me. Assuming Ellie will behave herself and actually go to bed at a reasonable time.”

“Anything to get away from whatever that is,” Ellie said, smiling a little as she went to her room. You laughed.

“So,” you said, once she closed the door to her room. You looked up at Joel, smiling. “Care to take me for a ride, Mr. Miller?”

He grinned.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Miller.”

He took you through town slowly, down quiet side streets filled with sleeping people and past businesses that had closed for the night, until the two of you ended up at a large park on the edge of town where things were a little darker and you could see some of the stars.

“I can’t believe you got me a car, Baby,” he said, his hands running over the steering wheel. His smile was so big you could see it even in the dim light of the moon. “It’s really…”

“If you say it’s too much again, Joel, I will go and buy you a second one on principle.”

He laughed at that.

“I was gonna say it was the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said, turning to look at you. “Besides you and the girls of course.”

“Oh, of course,” you smiled.

He leaned in and kissed you gently.

“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he said. “But I sure am grateful for it.”

Your kiss shifted and you started climbing over the center console, Joel taking a second to move his seat all the way back. You bunched your skirt around your hips and settled over him, kissing him harder, more eager.

“I’m pretty damn grateful for you,” you whispered against his mouth, his hands going to your hips. You ground down on him and he moaned, pressing his hard length up against you through his jeans. “And I think the birthday boy should get laid in his dream car.”

“Dream car,” he said, kissing you. “Dream woman.” He kissed you again. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday.”

You unzipped his fly as you kissed him and tucked your panties to the side, notching his cock against your entrance. He moaned as you sank slowly down onto him, taking all of him inside of you, savoring how he filled you.

You started slowly, just grinding him deeper into you as you kissed him, his tongue licking into your mouth.

“You feel fuckin’ amazing Baby,” he moaned, kissing down your throat until he reached your breasts, cleavage bared in your v-neck top. “Always feel so damn good…”

He was thrusting up into you, trying to set his own pace, and you decided to allow that, matching him stroke for stroke as he groaned below you. His hands ranged up your back, pawing at your shirt until be was able to raise it enough to slide below it and get at your skin with a satisfied moan. He clutched you close, so close that you could hardly move over him anymore. Instead, he fucked up into you, making you whimper and your channel tighten around him.

“C’mon Baby,” he grunted, voice strained. “Want you to come for me. All I want now is you to come for me, come all over me, fuck Baby…”

You bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet, the sounds of crickets and cicadas on the air as you came, your sex throbbed around him. You whimpered against him as you came down from your high and he kept working you, his grip on you tightening.

“Fuck Baby,” he gasped. “Feel too good, I’m gonna… fuck… I’m…”

He cut himself off with a groan, thrusting deep and filling you, his grip on you relaxing enough that you could sit up a little. You looked at him in the moonlight his eyes closed, a blissed out look on his face. You smiled a little, brushing his more unruly curls back from his forehead.

“I love you so much, Baby,” he smiled a little, eyes still closed.

“So I did alright for your birthday?” You teased lightly, his softening cock still buried inside you.

He laughed.

“Did perfect,” he tugged you close enough that he could kiss you again, careful to not push you back against the horn. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday, perfect fuckin’ woman, perfect fuckin’ wife.”

“Good,” you smiled, kissing him. “You deserve it, Joel. You deserve the world.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller smut #joel miller x oc

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naritaren · 1 year

Text

Per Fightful:

News on a backstage AEW retirement

A fixture in AEW is retiring.

Fightful has learned that seamstress Sandra Gray is finishing up on the road with All Elite Wrestling imminently. She’s been with the company since the beginning.

Gray is well liked by the AEW roster, and has been making wrestling gear since the 90s when she was approached by Sable to make Johnny B. Badd’s gear in WCW. She ended up working with WCW until it was acquired by WWE, and then with WWE until 2015.

When All Elite Wrestling started, Brandi Rhodes was instrumental in getting Gray hired for the upstart company. We’re told that even in retirement, she’ll continue to make Cody Rhodes’ attire, which she’s done for years.

Gray has also helped make wedding dresses for on-screen wrestling wedding, as well as Houston Texans cheerleader uniforms.

We wish Sandra Gray the best in retirement.

#aew

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luvly-writer · 2 years

Text

“You are my Sunshine”

Part 24: Grounded and missing home

——————————————

Jason Todd x Latina! Reader

Social Media Au

Warnings: none

Status: Finished

Author’s note: at the end of chapter!

Tag list: @lorosette @milas-teapot @izukuisbaby @alecmores @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @graywrites5567 @addictedtothefictionalworld @randobeetlehouse

Series Masterlist:

——————————————-

It was just a casual night in with Nola, both of you bochincheando of the lives of your families…

“you remember my cousin Helena, right?”

Nola nods from the couch where she is sitting at

“Yeah, the one that used to do your nails?”

“Yeah, pues turns out the baby wasn’t her husband’s!”

“WHAT?!?! You’re fkn kidding!”

“Nope, no I am not, during the months that she had spent in Houston, she slept with another man and got pregnant”

“Shit, I told you the timeline didn’t make sense. How would she have gotten pregnant and by her husband who at the time was in Puerto Rico”

“I KNOW! so today I got off the phone with mami and you will never guess what she told me”

Nola sat up and looked at you, super intrigued “what?”

“They got a divorce and she’s going to marry her baby daddy! Even went to Ecuador to visit his family and everything!!”

“FUCK NO WAY!!!!”

“SIIIIIII! You know, I always told you that relationship was rocky since her ex husband already had kids and she wanted more”

“Oh shitttttt, are we invited?”

“OBVIOOOO! She is showing off the wedding preparations EVERYWHERE on social media! EVEN. THE. DRESS!”

“NOT THE DRESS! ISNT THAT BAD LUCK!?!?”

Before you could answer Nola, a knock was heard on the door

You stand up from your place on the floor, gently placing Garbanzo, who was in your lap, in the sofa and to see who it was, only to see Damian pouting with his arms crossed

“Damian, mi niño, what are you doing here? You didn’t send me a text you were coming. Does your father know you’re here?”

Damian was never going to admit it, but he absolutely ADORED you. You always had a nurturing and doting energy on you and he constantly felt safe around you. Sometimes people forget that as much as he can be a killing machine, he IS STILL A CHILD, and having a positive mother figure was so important to him. He looked down and said very softly, “father grounded me because I skipped school…”

You looked at the child warmly and opened your arms

Ah, now there was something that Damian would NEVER admit in his entire life. He fucking LOVED your hugs and taking advantage of the fact that it was only Nola and you, he went straight to your arms and let you pull him inside.

Nola was sitting upside down on the sofa and Garbanzo was sleeping next to her peacefully

YN led him to the living room and let him sit down

“Sup Damian” greeted Nola from the sofa, and placed her hand up for a high five to which he responded

A doting mother figure and cool aunt figure…he could get used to this

“Now Damian, why were you skipping school?” Asks YN sternly.

Nola sits up and says “Oh shit, want some water? Juice? Alcohol?” At the last thing, Yn glared at her, “What? Whatever helps soothe his sorrows.” Defends Nola, making Damian crack a small smile, he tells her water and she stands up to get it, leaving YN and Damian more privacy.

“I didn’t want to go” he says dryly, making you deadpan at him. He sighs softly and finaly confesses, “Before coming to Gotham, I was homeschooled-“ “-by your mother?” YN interrupts and Damian nods and continues, “you could say that my intellect is quite advanced therefore, me going to school is not necessary.”

At that YN, thinks for a while and responds, “You do know, your father is legally required to put you in school till you’re 18, unless it counts as neglect, right?” And Damian nods whilst rolling his eyes

“Yes, YN! But I don’t like being with the other kids, they don’t understand and it is so difficult to be around them and I just…didn’t want to go. Plus, he keeps on saying that he knows my intellect is above Gotham Academy, but that I need to work on my social skills and have extracurriculars. He signed me up for fencing and I’m already the best there and it hasn’t been a week!”

YN hums understanding the problem. Although she has always been friendly, there was a time when…shit went down at home, that she closed off and spent a few years being super shy, so she understands the struggle.

“And is there an extracurricular you’d like?” She asks, “maybe something that might give you an opening to socialize at your pace?”

Damian looks at her and mumbles, “I like art and there is a art club in school, I’ve checked..”

At that, YN claps her hands, “There we go! Why don’t you tell your father about that? I’m sure if you explain how you feel…” she stopped for a second, seeing Damian get visibly uncomfortable at having to explain his feelings to his father, so she decided to rephrase so it fits their dynamic better, “I’m sure that if you negotiate with him, it will be fine”

At that, Damian relaxed and contemplated the outcome. Finally, he nodded and promised to do it once he got home. Knowing things probably aren’t the best at the moment, YN asks him, “Nola and I were gossiping about some interesting things of my family and later I was going to cook some rice, beans and chicken, Puertorrican style, wanna join?”

Damian had never tried her food so he nodded and saw that Nola had come back with a water bottle. She tossed it at him and he easily caught it.

“Now, let me catch you up Damian, with most of my family’s stories, get comfortable cause it’s going to be QUITE the ride” says YN and Nola laughs and adds, “you are going to LOVE this, kid”

And for once that day, Damian sat back, relaxed, laughed at Yn’s storytelling. At some point, they migrated towards the kitchen, YN still sharing stories about her family and all the summers she would go back to PR and Nola providing some stories about her childhood as well and growing up in an Asian household. They had laughed whilst YN cooked and finally sat down for dinner. Damian tried to also share some stories of the adventures his sibling have had over the years (very mindful to only include the ones that happened to them as civilians, he knew Jason hadn’t said a single thing of the whole vigilante ordeal yet) and it made the girls die of laughter. Nola, because she had blackmail material for Jason (please for the love of everything, for Jason’s sanity KEEP HER AWAY FROM STEPH AND TIM, dangerous trio that is!) and YN, because she felt even closer to her boyfriend’s family. As much as he liked to act all tough and cold, she knew that he still had a SUPER big soft spot for them. She didn’t know what caused the rift but she knew it was bad. Yet, any time he spoke about them, he had this huge tenderness in his tone, one that spoke of a love so cautious of being hurt again. He’d do anything for them (he’d complain a little, but he’d be there).

YN didn’t have siblings, the closest thing being Nola and some cousins, so having them enter her life, surely filled her life with joy. And being with a family so huge sometimes, it made her heart yearn for hers all the way across the sea.

Sometime soon, Nola invited Damian to play Mario Kart in the living room and YN was left to wash the dishes. She thought of her family even more. Her mother and her had moved to Gotham when she was barely eleven. The move was hard and it came shortly after her parents divorce. She remembers being new to the city and crying most nights because she missed the song of the coquis, the warmth of the summer, and the sky filled with stars. Sure, Gotham was in the coast and had beaches, beaches where she had gone a few times with her friends through middle school, high school and college. Yet, none of them compared to the beaches of her home. She would fly over there during the summers with her mom and oh boy, did she adore it! Her family gatherings were great. Blasting salsa, bachata, merengue (her personal favorite being salsa), they were filled with the laughter of all her cousins and tíos and tias and her grandparents and even the neighbors. They would have a barbecue on the beach, and days in the Morro flying kites, they would have road-trips along the island and see all of the beautiful sites of her home. She remembers the time Nola went with her, her family decided to go to El Junque and she remembers that it had rained a few days before so naturally, they couldn’t swim in the rivers but they still could walk around. Nola’s shoe got stuck in the mud and she fell making YN laugh so hard, she tripped and fell as well. Both girls ended up covered in mud because of how hard they were laughing. She still has the picture her uncle took of both of them on the floor, covered in mud, smiling brightly at the camera.

So lost in her thoughts, YN didn’t notice Jason come to the apartment. He glanced at Damian arguing with Nola claiming she cheated and insisted a rematch. One that Nola was glad to give him. He chuckled and looked around for his girlfriend, finding her spaced out staring at her bubble filled hands. He furrows his eyebrows and decided to hug her waist from behind, leaving a kiss in her shoulder. He feels her jump slightly, snapping out of her thoughts.

“Jay! You scared me”

He laughs lightly and answers “now what has you so lost in your pretty head that you didn’t see me coming?”

She finishes the last dish, dries her hands and turns around, pecking his lips.

“Nothing much, mi corazón” she smiles up at him and he notices, her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Now come on, my light, you know better than to lie to me like that” he says softly, his worry slightly increasing.

“I’m just a little homesick…I miss my family, and my mom”

Ahhhhh yes, you mom had moved back to PR on Yn’s third year of college to help her uncle take care of her grandmother

“Oh baby, come here” Jason pulls her closer to him and holds her tight. They are interrupted by a knock on the door.

YN walks to it and opens the door, only to find Bruce Wayne tiredly rubbing his hands on his face.

“Please tell me Damian is here. He won’t answer his calls or anything” he says and the girl laughs a little. Poor man, his children quite literally stress the fuck out of him.

“Damian! Your dad is here” she calls out and he comes out of the living room, with a small pout.

“Yang, YN. Thank you for having me.” He says barely acknowledging his brother and his father. You smile at him.

“Anytime, mi pajarito. And when you aren’t grounded anymore, tell me so that I can take you for another day at the Sactuary, they say Tantan the orangutan misses you”

At that, Damian smiles, nods and walks to the car, leaving his brother and father baffled. Bruce was convinced you were a mythic being of some sort, Jason was just too flabbergasted to function.

You wave at both, wishing them a good night for them to get home safe. Once you turn around, you see your o so lovable boyfriend, stuffing his mouth with the food that you had left for him, in pure bliss.

“This is the best thing ever, my love” he says after he swallows almost in tears

“I KNOW RIGHT! AND JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL YOU EAT SOME OF HER MOM’S AND GRANDMA’S FOOD! IT IS TO DIE FOR JASON! TO! DIE! FOR!” Nola screams from the living room.

You laugh a little shaking your head, the sad thoughts slipping away little by little.

——————————————

Author’s note: Little by littleeee you get that YN lore 😈 but in all seriousness, something I don’t see much in x Latina stories much is the yearning from home. Yes, I am a person currently living in my country, PR, but I have absolutely no doubt that it is something that happens to so many other Latinos who have migrated so I hope to show that part. Another thing is that I have noticed that in many cases, Latino culture is more family oriented than US culture, something that I also wanted to write in and represent through her yearning to spend time with her family and being at the moment, the only one away from home. Hope you enjoyed this! Lots of love!

-your writer!

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theboywithburninghands · 4 months

Text

Haven’t got anything to say this time. Hope you like the latest chapter! @fernstarsblog your tag as always

T/W: Era appropriate sexism

Primum Peccatum Ch. 6: Stuttering, Cold and Damp

Primum Peccatum was only about four miles long, the majority of it empty land purchased by rich families, waiting to be cultivated for their sons’ and daughters’ estates. The trees consisted mostly of black pine, with the occasional thicket of dogwood or white birch.

Landmarks were mostly gathered around the center of the island, other than the handful of completed estates scattered about such as the Shutnyk and Rooker Estates, and the post office, which was by the pier for obvious reasons. These landmarks included the island’s branch of The Gray Church, Lakepoint Assembly Hall, for Homeowners Association meetings and holiday events, and a small freshwater pond known as Falconhurst Cove, named after one of the founders of the island. It contained little, other than 8 feet of water, some small guppies, cattails, algae and a few ducks or loons on occasion. It had been public property for years, a quiet bit of unmanufactured nature for the residents to enjoy.

Pomni sat by Falconhurst with her novel. It wasn’t her favorite spot for reading, that would be her father’s library, but she didn’t want to be in her parents’ vicinity at the moment. Her mother would doubtlessly ask for her opinions on wedding decor and what Pomni wanted her dress to look like. Pomni had told her, several times, quite clearly, that she wanted nothing gaudy, and a black and white color scheme. Her favorite colors were red and blue, yes, but they looked good on flowers and birds, not people.

Falconhurst was a reasonable substitute. Pomni liked the pond. It was a tranquil place, and even in the summertime it didn’t attract very many mosquitos, mostly craneflies and pond skimmers. But the water was stagnant and too filthy for swimming, and while her parents enjoyed feeding bread to the waterfowl, Pomni didn’t much care for them. They were loud and greedy, and they left their droppings all over the grass. Cute as they were, she’d rather be alone.

She was enjoying rereading her novel, even if she had the whole thing memorized. Houston’s prose was so clean and precise. She described settings with such ease. The town in Humidity was as clear to her mind’s eye as was the pond right in front of her. If she were a better artist, she might have attempted to draw it.

There was a tap on her open book, like someone lightly drumming a finger on it. A blotch of water about the size of a pea sat in the middle of page 43. Pomni looked up at the sky, which was a soft gray. She heard other drops land on the leaves of grass and make rings on the pond.

“Oh, blast… I was hoping it would hold off a bit longer.” Pomni sighed. She wiped the raindrop off the page of her book to avoid smearing the ink, shut it and tucked it into her handbag. She got to her feet and began to walk to The Gray Church, about a half mile away. She could wait out the rain in the Assembly Hall just a short walk away, but the HOA President Mr. Kretschmann might have locked the door, and even then, she’d rather be at the church with a friend than in a dark function room by herself. She never liked that place much anyway, with all the tedious parties her parents had made her attend.

The few droplets of rain had picked up into a drizzle as she made her way to the road. Pomni walked beneath the treeline to keep the rain off, enjoying the pleasant sound of raindrops whispering in the pine needles above her. If this weather kept up, she might have actually tried to find an especially dry place to read, but the book didn’t belong to her. So the church it was.

As she walked towards the church, the rain gradually picked up in volume. Hm, this was starting to become risky. She didn’t want to run the risk of a head cold. That would force her to stay at home and listen to her mother’s nattering. She quickened her pace, droplets of water beginning to eke through the pine needles above her with increasing frequency.

She came upon the church on the horizon. What a relief… She hoped Ragatha had the kettle on. It was a bit selfish to think such a thing, but she hadn’t had the chance to enjoy solitude with one of her only friends on this island, at least without being interrupted by that dreadful shapeman with huge teeth.

“Well, it seems our paths align once again, my dear.”

Pomni nearly slipped and dropped her book upon hearing a familiar, glib voice nearby.

Jax Krolik stood out on the road under a black umbrella, clad in his usual gray on gray waistcoat and trousers, although this time with an ultramarine ascot rather than his usual red one. He smiled.

“Mr. Krolik. Is it truly a crossing of paths, or are you following me?” Pomni countered.

“Once again, your talent for presumption truly astounds.” Jax said, his smile not faltering. “I suppose any coincidence you encounter inspires a conspiracy theory, hm? Perhaps my being here was foretold by the very constellations.”

He gave a theatrical wave of the hand. Pomni scoffed, crossing her arms. “A true wordsmith. Do you employ such doggerel with all of your marks?”

“Only with my betrothed. You should come under the umbrella, the rain is picking up.”

“I’m just fine, thank you,” Pomni answered curtly.

“Somehow I find that difficult to believe. Is that a library book? You wouldn’t want that ruined, I’m certain. You have such a fine library at home, I figured you must have some appreciation of the written word.”

“Our agreement, need I remind you, Mr. Krolik-”

Jax merely walked over to Pomni, shading her with his umbrella.

“You needn’t remind me. I’m quite aware. However, it would be ungentlemanly to allow you to stand there and become drenched. You don’t honestly believe the rumors that we beastfolk bite, do you?”

Jax seemed to show more of his teeth.

“I… Appreciate the gesture, I suppose. Even if it is basic courtesy.” Pomni said. “Must you always act so… self-assured?”

“Act? My self-assurance is entirely genuine.”

“Genuine it may be, yet no less irritating. If you wouldn’t mind, please tell me why you’re here.”

Jax pointed to the church in the distance. “I was just about to inquire if the island’s Gray Sister had seen my sister-in-law. I heard footsteps and thought it may have been Kali, but, alas, it was only you.”

Pomni rolled her eyes. “Hmm. I encountered Kali on the ferry earlier. She said she was on her way to visit you. Has she become lost?”

“Hardly,” Jax replied. “I had one last query for her, but I had forgotten all about it until after she left The Rooker Estate. I saw her leave in this direction.”

“Yes, she told me she was going to the church,” Pomni said. “She may still be inside.”

“Wonderful! Let’s investigate together, shall we?” Jax strode forward, Pomni having to quicken her pace to keep dry beneath his umbrella.

This marked the second time her fiancé had intruded on one of her sanctuaries. It was fortunate he had an umbrella, but that was coincidental, surely. It seemed this fellow had no intention of following the agreement that he himself put forth… disappointing yet ultimately unsurprising.

“How are the wedding preparations coming along in your household, Ms. Shutnyk?” asked Jax.

“Er… I wouldn’t know. I’ve been doing what I can to remain distant from the whole business. I assume that’s why you’re living here on Primum Peccatum rather than on the mainland. Apart from ‘keeping up appearances,’ that is.”

Jax grinned yet again. His frequent smiling disturbed Pomni. She only smiled if something truly made her happy, otherwise her affect was neutral at all times. Her mother had scolded her so often for that. What was so amusing to Jax?

“You could say that’s one reason. Event planning always seemed like an exercise in drudgery. But I also wanted to explore where I would be living for the rest of my days. And what a charming little island it is!”

Pomni nodded. “Even in spite of your dyspepsia?”

Jax looked puzzled for a moment, before his smile lengthened again.

“My dyspep- Ah, yes! Of course. Apologies for leaving you so suddenly yesterday. I have a delicate constitution.”

Pomni squinted. It seemed as though he had forgotten about his ailments, even if they had him rushing to the water closet only yesterday. Which meant either these digestive issues happened so frequently that Mr. Krolik genuinely forgot about having them yesterday… or he wasn’t telling the truth. Perhaps he had become crawsick. Kinger did have a rather extensive wine collection.

Jax continued speaking. “I must say, it does rain quite often in New Hirnantia. Back when I was just a lad and my family still resided in Ediacara, we were lucky to get rain more than twice in one month. Yet here-”

“Mr. Krolik, is this conversation necessary?” Pomni interrupted.

Jax stopped walking. “…I suppose not. But, if we are to be wed, we should at least tolerate one another’s company. It would be a miserable existence if we spent our days bickering, would it not? I would call that a waste of a life.”

Pomni hummed. “Very well, but may we discuss something other than the weather? That topic is rather banal.”

The pair reached the heavy oak door to the sanctuary, Jax rapping on it smartly. After a moment, the hasp could be heard being undone and the door opened with an achy iron creak.

Sister Ragatha’s oddly grim expression brightened upon seeing a familiar face.

“Well good afternoon, Pomni! And who might you be sir?”

Jax extended a hand. “Good afternoon, sister. Jax Krolik. Miss Shutnyk’s fiancé.”

Pomni blinked for a few moments too long.

Ragatha looked at his gloved hand for a moment, uncertain of what to do, before she took it in both of her hands and squeezed it.

“Allfather bless you, Mr. Krolik. I am Sister Ragatha, acting priestess for this branch of The Gray Church. Please come in, both of you.”

She motioned the pair inside, Pomni removing her shoes at the door. Jax unzipped his wide boots and stepped out barefoot onto the carpet, sighing with relief. He hung his umbrella out the door and shook the rainwater off of it before closing it and hanging it on one of the hooks.

“What brings you to this house of worship in such unpleasant weather? Ah- pardon me,” Ragatha removed the hood of her habit, letting her bright red curls cascade onto her shoulders. She shook her head and sighed. “I’ve been meaning to get my hair trimmed.”

“I was wondering, ma’am, if you’ve seen my sister-in-law today. She looks much like me, but with orange fur rather than purple.” Jax explained.

Ragatha thought for a moment. “Hm… I don’t believe I have. The only people I’ve seen today are the two of you, apart from confessors. And naturally, I don’t know their identities.”

Jax’s face fell. “Ah, I see. No matter, thank you for your time, ma’am.”

“If you’re worried for her, I could help organize a search party. This is a rather small island, I’m sure we could have the whole community combed over in just a few hours.” Ragatha suggested, but Jax was already pulling his boots back on.

“That’s unnecessary, sister. I’m sure we merely missed one another. Have a truly sanctimonious day.” Jax pulled the church door open and marched off into the rain, which had hastened considerably.

“Mr. Krolik..!” Pomni called after him. She watched him splash down the road until he disappeared over the crest of the hill leading towards her parents’ and Mr. Rooker’s estate. She made a noise of annoyance and returned to the chapel.

“Sanctimonious..?” Ragatha said to herself. “I can’t tell if he was being rude or simply used the wrong word.”

“More than likely the latter. A poet, he is not.” Pomni replied, looking at the dripping umbrella Jax left on the hook.

“Hm, well, hopefully he won’t catch his death of cold. You’re welcome to stay here until the rain subsides, of course.” Ragatha said.

“Thank you, I may take you up on that offer.” Pomni hadn’t taken her eyes off of the umbrella. She sighed. He kept her dry long enough to get to a place of refuge. She had to return it. “No, I shouldn’t. He’ll be missing that umbrella.”

Ragatha smiled proudly. “Well, that’s a very charitable thing to do, Pomni. I’m sure The Hereafter just became a bit easier for you to see.”

“Hmph,” was Pomni’s reply. She stepped out onto the stoop, opening the umbrella in a shower of droplets. She held it over herself and tucked her book under her arm, and walked cautiously to the steps.

“Oh, Pomni! One moment before you leave!” Ragatha came to the doorway, a smile alighting her face. “Your mother plans on having your wedding here, at this very church. So I’ll be the officiater!”

Pomni smiled in return. It took some

effort, but she maintained eye contact. “Well, if it must happen, I’d be delighted to have you wed me, Ragatha. Have a wonderful day.”

“You as well, little sister. Stay dry.” Ragatha beamed and shut the door to the church. Pomni itched at her arm. While she abhorred this whole situation, she did feel a small bit better that one of her best friends would be officiating and not a stranger.

As she walked down the rainswept path, questions buzzed in her mind like irritating little fruit flies. Kali told her she was going to The Gray Church, yet Ragatha said she had only spoken to anonymous confessors today. So she must have been confessing. But what about? Something to do with Jax? Had she lied about thinking Pomni could run her father’s business? That would certainly be a dagger in her back… And why had Jax gone to find her? There was mention of a question, yes, but her fiancé had already told many half-truths… none of it added up. She supposed she’d have to ponder this more carefully once she wasn’t in the driving rain.

The pink Shutnyk Estate came into view, but Pomni walked right past it towards Mr. Rooker’s manor. Hopefully the rain would let up at least a little by the time she headed back home. Her book would be wet pulp if she walked uncovered in this deluge. She turned into Kinger’s raggy garden, and stopped when she saw a figure sat against the front door, elbows on their knees.

“Mr. Krolik?”

Sure enough, it was Jax, purple fur dripping wet, leaning against the Rooker estate’s locked door in water-darkened clothes. He looked over at Pomni, smirking.

“We meet again. Maybe it was preordained.”

Jax walked through this without any kind of protection? What a foolish thing to do. Still, her chest did ache with a mote of pity for the rabbit. No one deserved to be soaked to the bone and trapped outdoors, even if they were at fault. Thank goodness it was warm out or he may be risking his life out here…

“Why aren’t you indoors?!” Pomni demanded.

“Well, it would appear Mr. Rooker left for the day, and neglected to tell me.” Jax replied.

“And he didn’t give you an extra key?!” Pomni asked, having to raise her voice over the rain.

“No, he did not.”

Pomni scoffed and walked up onto the wet stoop. She took out her ring of keys, finding the extra one Kinger lent her ages ago to feed his insect collection, and unlocked the door. Jax climbed to his feet, water drooling off of his sleeves and pooling under his boots.

“There. I apologize on Mr. Rooker’s behalf. The old duffer’s memory isn’t exactly reliable. Be careful not to get water on any of his documents, or you’ll be out in the cold. Here’s your umbrella. Good afternoon.”

“You’re certain you want to go out in that?” Jax nodded towards the now torrential rain.

“I don’t have much say in the matter, do I?” Pomni retorted.

“You could always wait out the downpour.” Jax said.

“That is not ideal.” Pomni stated firmly.

“Sometimes the ideal choice isn’t possible. Look at us.” Jax said with a grin.

“Oh for the love of The Allfather… Very well. Only because I fear for my book.”

She stepped inside Kinger’s estate, removing her sunhat and placing it onto one of the stacks of paper. Jax stepped inside, removed his soaked-through boots and jacket.

“Excuse me. Please don’t disrobe in front of me.” Pomni requested sharply.

Jax didn’t reply, opening the door and wringing his sopping wet waistcoat out. There was a clink as a small glass tincture bottle fell out onto the stoop.

“Oh, thank goodness that didn’t break…” Jax picked it up hurriedly.

“What is that?” Pomni inquired.

“That is what’s going to keep me from falling ill. An Ediacaran holistic. Good for most minor ailments such as dyspepsia and immune health.”

He removed the dropper from the bottle, sticking out his tongue and squeezing two drops of reddish brown liquid onto it.

“I see,” Pomni said. “And it works?”

“Most certainly. I always carry a bottle on my person. Would you like to try some? The flavor is quite unpleasant.”

Pomni held a hand out in opposition. “I’m quite alright, thank you. I’d rather use real medicine…”

“Suit yourself, dear. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get into something more presentable.”

“Very well… You may do so.”

Jax nodded and began removing his shirt.

“In your bedchamber.” Pomni ordered.

“Ahhh, you must be more specific next time, dear.” Jax replied with a grin. He went upstairs to the second floor. Pomni shook her head in disbelief, going into the kitchen to put on the teakettle.

From outside, a shapeman in red watched through the window. He held a red umbrella above his head, made up almost entirely of teeth. Despite the downpour, both he and his umbrella were dust-dry. He checked to see if it was still raining. Water hit his glove and beaded off. He folded his umbrella, twirling it in his hand, and walked into the woods.

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #jax x pomni #tadc jax #tadc pomni #oh no cringe #tadc #tadc ragatha #tadc caine #tadc arranged marriage au

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cellard0ors · 3 months

Note

Been thinking about details from the Cards universe…

What the Hackett family looked like when Bobby was off with the military, and when he initially returned. How Travis would have felt, having his youngest brother be (potentially) quite far away and without his protection.

The complex emotions of assisting with Amelia’s side of the wedding to Chris, of the day itself. Trying to imagine Constance and Jed out and in public, dressed suitably for the occasion, giving the traditional speech on behalf of their son. Travis stabbing a little forlornly at the bland wedding cake, the awkwardness of the community hall dancefloor, and the bitter memory of a bachelor party that he swears up and down would never resemble his own, had he managed to be with Laura.

Wondering about Bruce, and whether he matured in unexpected ways during those years of Travis’ illness, not unlike Seth Rogan’s character in 50/50.

Not asking for writing or answers, more just wanting to express that your words and your world occupy my mind, and I so appreciate the depth of your work.

I know you didn't ASK for writing answers but one of these was just too good to ignore!!! 😩 Angst!train ahead!!!

It's a beautiful day for a wedding.

And Travis hates every second of it.

The ceremony at their family's local church was overly long and overly sentimental. The speeches and vows bordered on saccharine and while Travis kept a neutral expression throughout it was difficult.

To be fair, he rather likes Amelia. She’s a pleasant enough girl and she certainly makes Chris happy. Under completely different circumstances, Travis might have even been in a good mood.

But considering the circumstances necessary to feel that emotion involve a completely impossible feat, he’s just doing the best he can with how he feels. His mother has already made one or two snide comments, warning Travis about his ‘attitude' and how he should ‘stop feeling sorry for himself.’

No doubt she's right. His mother is always right.

It is, after all, Chris and Amelia's big day. It’s about them, not him. Yet it’s hard not to feel bitter.

Bitter as they go to the nearby dance hall for the reception, the place Travis advised against. Bitter as the newly wedded couple jam cake into one another's face, another thing he advised against. And bitter as they dance their first dance to Whitney Houston’s ‘Saving All My Love For You’, a song his mother recommended that Amelia and Chris agreed on - didn't they recognize the song is about adultery?!

And yes, Travis recognizes that the bitterness stems from an ugly place, one whose foundation is built on jealousy. Because while Travis hadn't objected to helping Amelia with the wedding planning, he inwardly cringed when she went against his suggestions.

Mainly because they highlighted how he would have done things differently - how she would have done things differently. Because while it’s been almost a decade since she went missing, Travis knows Laura would have never chosen half the things Amelia has.

No, Laura would have been classier. She would have enjoyed the idea of an outdoor wedding, surrounded by the forest. She would have liked a reception under the stars. She would have sparkled as they carefully fed one another their moist cake and she would have glowed as they simply swayed to something soft and sweet and romantic.

…and it could still happen.

Travis tells himself this even as he stabs heartily at the wedding cake. The one with the weak ‘Just Married’ black icing, the cloyingly sweet buttercream frosting and the dry, bland vanilla center.

It could still happen. He's moving along in his police training, he's improving his detective skills. Travis could find her - possibly a captive of that dirty cop she dealt with or some other ne’er-do-well that took her. He could save her, help her, comfort her - he could let her know again how much she means to him, how much he loves her still (no matter how pathetic that is), he could still marry her…

…it could still happen.

But Travis doesn't feel very confident that it will.

He manages to swallow the cake, a dry hard lump of it working it's way unpleasantly down his throat as he closes his eyes and tries to picture it, picture her.

Her eyes…

They were blue.

…weren't they?

Yes, blue and lost, and he's not entirely certain he can recall the exact sound of her voice, but he can imagine what she would say.

Your family is important, Travis, she'd whisper into his ear, holding one of his hands, But not as important as you are. You need to think about yourself sometimes.

Very much the opposite of his mother's words.

That was Laura.

Was. Past tense.

Travis chucks the rest of the cake in a nearby trash bin, feeling like he'll vomit if he tries to eat another bite. His stomach rolls as he watches Chris sweep Amelia around in circles. They look happy. They look like they're in love. And that's good and Travis is happy for them, he is.

He's happy until the next song plays. Until Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time' hits and he can feel himself go pale.

No.

Not this song.

Not the song he danced with Laura to. No, no, no…

He shoots Chris a look. Chris, who is now swaying with Amelia, slow and sweet and romantic. Chris, who must catch sight of Travis's expression and he just shrugs.

Shrugs, like it's no big deal. Shrugs, as if to say, ‘Well, what can you do?’ Shrugs, and then returns all his attentions to Amelia, dopey eyed with love and suddenly Travis hates him.

He hates Chris, he hates this wedding, he hates his whole family and he turns on his heels, intent on leaving only to get caught by his mother, her grip on his right arm sharp and painful, “An’ where do ya think yer goin’?!”

“Out.” Travis growls and his mother digs her nails so hard into him that his clothes provide little relief, his flesh stinging, “Oh no, you don't.”

She has a serene smile. It won't do to upset the guests. It won't do to make a scene in public. It wouldn't do when he was growing up and it won't do now, nevermind the fact she can no longer easily take a switch to him as she did when he was younger, “This is your brother's wedding, Travis. Your goddamn brother.”

The last is said under her breath, teeth clenched, the words hissing out for only him to hear, “I don't care what sissy thing’s got yer panties in a twist this time - you are staying put. You got that?”

“This song…” he starts and his mother releases him, rolling her eyes, “This song is a piece of trash. Just like that lil’ bitch you're still mooning over.”

Travis goes completely rigid. Stone.

He should have known she would know. His mother knows everything. She reads his mind. She knows him - inside and out. She's always said so. On top of always being right, she's also said she knows him and she clearly does, as she mutters quietly, “You know well as I do that that girl is dead and gone.”

He goes cold. Frozen.

“Or she used you for what you were worth and is out there now spreading her legs for some other moron! Don't matter either way - she's gone, Travis! Gone.”

Travis is going to be sick.

One bite of cake, but it's making him ill. His mother's words moreso, “An’ I'm sick to death of you usin’ it as an excuse to be a pouty little piece of shit! Now you get over yerself an’ you congratulate yer brother and his bride! I may not be Amelia's biggest fan, but she's here and she's gonna give me grandbabies someday, so you make her and Chris feel right happy and like you're glad to be here!”

His mother shakes her head, mumbling dark things about him under her breath as she goes. Travis watches her leave and slowly turns away from the exit he'd planned to take. He turns from it even as the song plays, even as he thinks of blue eyes, even as he does his best to take his mother's advice, but imaginary Laura's takes precedence.

Your family is important, Travis. But not as important as you are. You need to think about yourself sometimes.

Travis has thought about himself. And he's thought about her. And now, for the first time, he realizes that he honestly would like to think about neither of them ever again.

Thanks for the inspo! I'll write another post later about your other takes, because I like them all, but I managed to scribble this out while at work so have to wait until my shift is fully over to elaborate on the others! 😂

#hackearney #my writing #full deck verse #cards verse #cellar answers

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blueplumbbob · 3 months

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Lorimer: Decades of Style - 2010s

HRH Dahlia, The Duchess of Westcott, née Lady Dahlia Tindale (born June 2, 1985) married Prince Patrick at Herriot Cathedral in Gaucelin, Iverny on June 14, 2008. She is the younger daughter of Earl Stuart Tindale and his late ex-wife Lady Ramona Houston, a former lady-in-waiting to Queen Laura and a prominent member of Ivernian aristocracy in her own right. The Duchess of Westcott’s mother was a notable socialite and activist for nearly twenty years up until her tragic death in 1999. Lady Dahlia and her sister Adella were childhood playmates of the King and Queen’s children, but Lady Dahlia did not become romantically linked to Prince Patrick until 2005. Following their 2008 engagement and wedding, the Duchess became an international fashion icon, renown for her timeless and elegant monochromatic taste. She shares with her husband the patronage of the Royal Ivernian Arts Council and follows in her mother’s footsteps as a champion of ending childhood hunger around the globe.

April 2011- The Duke and Duchess of Westcott attend the wedding of Prince William of Wales and Miss Catherine Middleton in London, England in place of HM The King. The Duchess wore a royal blue silk dress with a matching fascinator.

October 2012- The Duchess of Westcott, in a charming hunter green wool dress and mustard heels, speaks with physicians, nurses, and medical assistants at the Royal Lorain Hospital.

May 2013- The Duchess of Westcott wows at the annual Chanterry Film Festival in a bespoke strapless white gown and matching opera gloves. She paired the gown with Queen Joan's Pearl Garland Necklace.

July 2014- The Duchess attends an engagement on behalf of the Royal Children's Trust in a short-sleeved rose pink dress and matching hat. After the announcement of her third pregnancy in April 2014, the Duchess debuted a new shoulder-length bob hairstyle. The hairstyle was unfortunately short lived, as the Duchess returned to her signature long waves by 2016.

September 2014- The Duke and Duchess of Westcott attend the Caerinion State Dinner. The Duchess's appearance at this dinner was unexpected, and was her last appearance before the birth of her daughter Princess Frederica in October 2014. However, the Duchess still amazed in a seafoam green Grecian-inspired dress and the Maloret Garland Tiara.

March 2016- The Duchess of Westcott speaks to a young student at St. Anne's Primary School in Bethencort. The Duchess wore a beautiful red lace pencil dress and matching heels.

December 2017- The Duchess, wearing a shimmering metallic lavender evening gown, speaks with guests at the annual Advent Ball at Clemons Palace. The Duchess paired the bespoke gown with her late mother's Houston Arch Tiara, on loan to her from her grandmother, Sophie Styrne-Montague Houston, Duchess of Plamondon.

September 2019- The Duchess poses with her youngest child, Princess Frederica of Westcott, outside Wreatham Park Chapel before the wedding of The Prince Joseph and Miss Penelope Medeiros. The Duchess wore a canary yellow coatdress with pieces of the Pugh Ruby Parure.

other decades in this series

#lorimer decades of style #the lorimers #lorimers: dahlia #sims 4 #ts4 royalty #bluep.txt #ts4 2010s #ok typing that as a tag makes me feel old.

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pacinosgf · 8 months

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barbara ann robinson (née morris, born april 7, 1947) is an american musician, singer, songwriter and producer. she is known for her work as a bassist, keyboardist and vocalist with the band midnight mayhems and as a solo artist.

❝ i was born in a little place called venus. after all these years, it remains a little place. last time i went there was thirty years ago, to solve a problem of my husband's doing, but he has gone there since then. i was my parents' only child, because my mother had such a complicated pregnancy that, after me, she couldn't have any other one. i had the nerve of being born as a girl, at that, but my parents were really fond of me. i had a good childhood. helped them at the farm all day, they looked after me. they were very private people and didn't really engage with the community, so we were the odd ones.

i'd spend the morning running after our animals, helping my mother with the house, my daddy with the farm work, and then in the afternoon i'd go over to my aunt's house to learn how to be a proper lady. she was a war widow of a rich man who came back to town after the war. she'd wrap my hair in ribbons and teach me how to cook, how to sew, how to behave, how to play the piano. we would read romances together. no girl i grew up with had this kind of thing, which didn't help my case, being the odd one. she'd talk about her life in houston as a wife. we'd go there once a month so she could get me new dresses and stuff, i still keep a beautiful hairbrush and some other things she got me.

i was too young to remember when it started, but she always talked about how i had to leave venus and study somewhere else. study to become a teach, a nurse, whatever it was, but study and leave our town. and so i did. that gave people the impression i thought i was better than them, but i don't even know what i thought about it back then. i was just too obedient. relied on my parents and my aunt to know what i could and should do. all i knew is that i should study and leave and marry good and send money back to my parents' every month, never really thought deep about it.

she died when i was 15, which was for the better, because she'd kill me if she was there to witness how i let jim follow me up and down, take me home from the church and all. we wouldn't say a word, just walk. he says that he is in love with me since we were kids, but he's a liar, don't listen to what he says. i started paying attention to him because he was gentle and he'd take me home without making any move and, at 15, i knew i should get some prospects for my future. my parents wouldn't let me leave venus if i was still single. the girls i grew up with already had planned weddings with guys much older than us or the boys we grew up, disgusting men like only a place like that could raise, that could have been my future too. and jim was kind, third of six kids, played the drums for the church band just like i played the organ. it felt safe. one day i stopped him in the tracks before getting home and asked him what he wanted with me. no, i think i said something like i want to study. you can't stop that. i want to leave this place. i won't change my mind. find another girl to take home or bear with me. and he showed up the next day to talk to my parents, so it was official.

after that we finally started properly talking. he had never thought about leaving, but it seemed good. he said i was too smart to not study, so he'd wait and work until then. we would walk through town, the only thing we could do as a non-married couple, taking the longest paths so we could keep talking. i would talk, actually, he'd listen in a way i was never sure if he was paying attention until he showed he was. i told him about how i liked playing music and went as far as saying that i had this fantasy of playing and making music one day. he supported it, of course. said i could do it, started practicing more on the drums in the case i'd ask him to go with me. we haven't changed much since then.

i am a few months older, we got engaged when he turned 18, and i went to houston for nursing school. he'd visit me once a week, under the watchful eyes of the lady that owned the boarding house for the single nursing students, bringing things like his mother's jam, letters, all that stuff. that's when i actually got attached to jim. he would ask me about how i was doing in school, if i had found a place to play. i took him to the vinyl and music store i was a regular customer and we'd share a headphone, we went to one of the nursing school parties and he made me sing. i sang for the girls at the boarding house, i sang for some of my closest school friends, but had never sang to so many people in that context. i remember feeling full that night, so happy that i'd explode.

i got a guitar and played the piano for an old lady and her friends every week. i saved all the money i could to buy a bass, that brand new instrument media was diminishing because it was too dangerous. made girls dance and lose themselves, made men forget who they were. and then i finally went to the store, all happy and mighty, and they denied me one. said i should save more for a piano of my own. the bass guitar was too masculine and dangerous for such a girl.

i wrote a letter to jim about it, how i was mad and feeling down, but i wouldn't give up, of course. i think it only a few lines of the whole letter, of course. he answered me and kept sending letters but stopped visiting me for almost two months. i became afraid that he had found another girl, nicer than me, and i'd have to drop everything to go back home to live with my parents. i was already used to this new future when he came in a random day. he went to pick me up at the school in his brother's car, seemed like he would die at any moment. and then he gave me the bass. a red bass, beautiful bass, that i still keep, of course. said that he really liked me, that he hoped i liked him too. that i made him feel special because i put up with him. that i deserved all good things and that he knew i could get them alone, but he would try his best to give me some too. i wasn't big on physical touch, but i had no idea of what to say. i kissed him. not the first time, but probably the first one i truly, totally, wanted to do it.

we got married in 1967, my last year of nursing school. we were twenty. i left the boarding house, we found an apartment to live in houston, he got a new, less strenuous, job, in the city. we'd work all day, and when i didn't have night shifts, he'd take me to places where i could sing or play. nothing fancy, but still. we'd play with wedding bands sometimes. we'd go home and talk and listen to records. i felt happy. i remember thinking that if the music thing didn't work out, i'd still be happy enough. jim was still nice, he didn't change after getting married, which was my biggest fear.

we had some nice years, going here and there, playing and working, and then we had the bad luck of meeting this awful guy, who you may know as [ . . . ]

@gllianowens

#barbara ann.

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