#city bar buffet

[huariqueje]

Rio Epress Buffet  - Tobias Weber, 2022 .

Swiss , b. 1974 -

Acrylic on canvas, 182 x 122cm.

#Tobias Weber #swiss artist #city bar buffet #Zurich #cafe bar

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l one

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l next chapter

summary: After the events in Salt Lake City, Joel and Ellie are back in Jackson, Wyoming to start a brand new life in the safe haven; Ellie has a difficult time fitting in and adjusting in the community, but she finds a friend in you; Joel meets you for the very first time and strange new feelings instantly take root.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. AGE GAP (no specific age is mentioned, but reader’s in her late 20s/early 30s and Joel is 56). reader is basically an OFC but story is written in reader format and her physical descriptions are kept as vague as possible. i have my own face claim for her, but i will only ever share it under cuts and with disclaimers. reader is married, Ellie plays a very important role in the series, hints at her strained relationship with Joel but this will indeed be a fix it fic because he deserves it, okay?

word count: 8.1k

Jackson, Wyoming | June, 2024

Joel’s deep, dark brown eyes linger on you from across the town mess hall with sheer, almost unabashed curiosity. Then again, he doesn’t even realize that he’s staring.

It’s about half past twelve, the designated lunch break hour in Jackson, and the larger scale eatery, which for the last couple of years has been run by an older man named Seth and his two surviving adult sons, is alive and well, buzzing loudly with obnoxious, overlapping chatter.

The hall is almost over maximum capacity, packed to the brim with several members of the steadily growing community who had stopped in for a quick bite to eat before having to resume their daily work duties around the settlement. Or at least, a majority of them had, anyway. Others shamelessly try to milk their lunch hour for all that it’s worth and more, dragging it out and extending their allotted free time for as long as they possibly can before having to return to their scheduled tasks around the commune. They float about the place, socializing as if the mess hall had suddenly turned into The Tipsy Bison, the bar right across the road that’s also owned by Seth.

Somehow, by a stroke of sheer good luck, you’d managed to find yourself a smaller, unoccupied table nestled against the wall, away from all the hustle and bustle. It’s tucked away over in the furthest corner of Jackson’s busy and bustling makeshift canteen, near where the aluminum double doors that lead back to the kitchens are propped wide open for the mess hall staff who were coming in and out to replenish the dishes at the buffet. 

You’re sitting at the table alone, your plastic lunch tray surrounded by an absurd amount of open books that Joel had very little choice but to assume came from the town’s modest, but decent sized library that he’d seen nestled between the schoolhouse and the old church, right behind Main Street. In between delicate bites of oven baked chicken and roasted vegetables harvested fresh from the gardens, you reach up and take the blunt, worn yellow pencil that’s tucked in the space behind your ear, using it to scribble on the notepad in your lap before putting the pencil back in its designated place. Although you’re clearly working through your lunch break today, that doesn’t stop you from being interrupted on several different occasions by numerous individuals—friends and familiar faces all approach you with hopeful expressions, eager to join you and keep you company. 

Sure, the hall is full, but there’s still a number of available seats still left at other partially occupied tables nearby, bigger tables that aren’t crowded with books like yours, tables whose occupants aren’t busy working, studying—doing whatever it is that you’re doing. It becomes apparent to Joel that you’re something of a hot commodity around here. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s just something about you that reminds him of the sweet and popular small town girl his favorite country artists would sing about back in the day. The kind of girl with a magnetic presence and irresistible charm—the kind of girl that anyone can fall head over heels in love with in one way or another. 

There’s something almost too endearing about the gracious way you offer up just the most saccharine smile and apologetic doe eyes as you point to your books, politely declining every offer for companionship that comes your way, saying something he can imagine to be along the lines of, not today or maybe another time. Eventually, after a while, you’re finally left alone to bury yourself back into whatever it is that’s keeping you occupied that you can’t even have your midday meal in peace—you’re so engrossed in the task that you don’t even notice the older, salt and pepper haired newcomer who’s been blatantly staring at you from his table over on the opposite of the hall for the last several minutes. 

It’s not the first time Joel’s seen you around.

He still vividly remembers the moment when he’d first laid eyes on you several months ago during the winter season. 

It had been the morning after his fight with Ellie, after she’d confronted him and he had been forced to fess up about his plans to hand her off to his younger brother, Tommy—he’d asked him, pleaded with him, to get her to the Fireflies in Colorado. Joel’s mind had been in an all out raging war, his heart torn between doing what he’d felt was best for Ellie and what he truly wanted, which was to remain by her side and get her to where she needed to be himself. But how the fuck could he do that when all he’d managed to do in the few months prior to their arrival in Wyoming was fail to protect her over and over again? Sure, Ellie was a teenager, now closer to being an adult than anything else, but she was still a child, one who needed to be protected, kept safe. She needed somebody who could get to where she needed to be in one piece, and Joel had come to the conclusion that, as much as he wanted to be that person, he simply wasn’t capable. Slower, older, his hearing getting worse and worse as the days go by, he feared he’d only end up getting her killed if she continued on with him, a scenario he fucking refused to let happen at all costs. He wouldn’t hold another child’s dead body in his arms, not again.

Following a very long and sleepless night of tossing and turning, Joel had pulled himself out of bed just after sunrise that morning. After getting dressed, he’d quietly slipped out of the house and made his way down to the horse stables, hoping he could leave the commune as soon as possible and without notice from Tommy—and especially without notice from Ellie. It’s not that he had wanted to leave without saying goodbye to her, but Joel knew he wouldn’t have it in him to follow through with the decision he’d made about parting ways with her if he saw her face again, not a fucking chance. And so there he’d been, in one of the stalls at the stables, saddling up the horse he planned to steal and take off on when you’d walked by, flashing him a warm and friendly smile, probably assuming he was just another patrolman getting ready to head out for the morning shift. 

Joel had just stared at you, lips pressed together into a tight, thin line with an emotionless expression on his hard, stony face.

Of course, you were nothing more than a complete stranger who didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going through his mind. You couldn’t have possibly imagined what was happening to the tortured older man you’d just encountered, the way his inner turmoil was a single thought away from tearing him apart from the inside out. You’d probably just thought he was rude for not smiling back, or at the very least, offering you a courteous good morning.

He’d almost forgotten about you since then.

Almost.

It’d been rather difficult for him to forget all about the prettiest goddamn fucking face he’d ever seen since the world ended two decades ago—not even after all of the events that followed that fateful morning.

The next time Joel had seen you was on his second day back in Wyoming. He and Ellie had made a trip down to the produce market on Main Street to pick up some vegetables and jarred preserves to stock up the kitchen pantry of their new, forever home. He’d caught sight of you as you made your way down one of the aisles towards the sweet potato bins with a brown, woven basket hanging from one arm and a reusable shopping bag draped over the other. Before Joel even realized that he’d been staring, your kind gaze met his own from across the market and you smiled at him again.

Still just as warm, still just as friendly. And you were still just as fucking beautiful as he remembered.

Much like that winter morning in the horse stables, Joel didn’t smile back at you. 

Two for fucking two—surely you must have thought he was a mannerless asshole at this point. He honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’d think the same. 

Tommy, who had made it back from leading his morning patrol group just in time to join him for lunch, waves a hand in front of Joel’s face, looking thoroughly amused. “Maybe we should find you a goddamn camera,” he teases, letting out a small chuckle once he’d finally managed to break the older Miller’s trance, garnering his attention. “Y’know, so you can take a picture. It’ll last a hell of a lot longer.”

Joel scowls at his brother, though he says nothing.

He can’t very well deny that he’d been caught openly gawking. 

“Shut up, Tommy,” is all he can come up with before taking a large bite of seasoned carrots, heat flooding his face. The way Tommy’s looking at him, with that mischievous glimmer in his eyes, it reminds Joel of their younger years, when Tommy would make it his mission in life to do anything that would cause him discomfort just for his own kicks. 

“Hey, I don’t really blame you, y’know.” Tommy reaches over for his glass of sweet iced tea and picks it up, taking a long and refreshing sip. Smacking his lips together, he casually shrugs his shoulders, shooting Joel a knowing smirk over the top the glass as he comments, “She’s certainly a sight for sore eyes, ain’t she, big brother?”

“Watch it. Don’t think Maria would appreciate you sayin’ that kinda thing ’bout another woman who ain’t her,” Joel warns, cocking an eyebrow at him. His brother hadn’t always been the most faithful of partners in his first life, but Tommy truly seemed to be head over heels in love with his wife. Hearing him talk about another woman makes Joel wonder if perhaps remnants of his playboy ways still lingered behind even after twenty years. With Maria having just found out she was expecting his child, Joel certainly hopes that isn’t the case. “Eyes to yourself, asshole.”

Tommy shrugs again. “Ain’t no real harm in just takin’ a quick peek every once in a while,” he muses, although there’s a joking edge to his tone. Setting his glass of iced tea back down onto the table in front of him, he leans back into his chair and glances over at you. He lets out a long, low whistle, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh trust me, I get it, Joel—hell, every man around here gets it, fuckin’ single or not. She’s a real fuckin’ beauty, she is. But I should probably go ahead and warn you now that it’s best you don’t go gettin’ any ideas when it comes to that one.”

Before Joel can even stop himself, he finds himself asking, “Why’s that?

“Well for starters, that girl’s damn near half your fuckin’ age, you old fucker.”

Joel flips him off.

“Besides that, she’s already spoken for.” 

“She’s got a boyfriend.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“She’s got a husband,” Tommy corrects him. “She’s a married woman, Joel. And here’s the real fuckin’ kicker. She’s married to Jackson’s only doctor.”

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes. “A real doctor? Or just some fuckin’ clueless prick who claims to be a doctor?” he questions, shoving another forkful of his carrots into his mouth.

The younger man laughs at the bitter skepticism, knowing that it’d come from a place of envy more than anything. “Real, Joel. The guy’s around my age, give or take a couple years. He was finishin’ up his medical school residency when the outbreak first happened, at least that’s what Maria says,” he explains. He notices the confusion flash across Joel’s face and continues to elaborate. “Two of them go way back, went to the same college before she transferred out to another school for her law degree. Maria came across him and his group one day while out lookin’ for supplies. She said he still knew his stuff after all these years and decided to bring him in as the community’s physician. He looks after everyone around here. Delivers the babies, stitches up wounds. Hell, I broke my arm in a stupid ridin’ accident last summer and he set the bone right back into place, had me good as new within a few weeks. S’a miracle we’ve got someone like him around here.”

Joel glances down at his plate, twiddling his fork between his thumb and his index finger. He would have been a goddamn dirty liar if he’d said that finding out you were a married woman didn’t bother him. 

And to a fucking hero doctor nonetheless.

That only makes it sting a little harder.

Tommy immediately picks up on his brother’s disappointment in hearing the news about you being taken and softly kicks his shin with the toe of his boot underneath the table. “Y’know Joel, there’s plenty of other single women around here. Pretty ones, and real nice, too,” he informs him with a small smile. He pauses and then offers, “If you’re interested, I could introduce you around. Maria has this friend, her name is Esther and she’s a real cute blonde—”

“That’s the last thing on my fuckin’ mind,” Joel grumbles out in reply. He tightly shakes his head. “I just fuckin’ got here, Tommy. Besides, I’ve got Ellie that I need to take care of. We’re both tryin’ to get used to this place after bein’ out there on the road for so long. We’re still in the middle of gettin’ ourselves settled. The kid’s my priority right now—my only fuckin’ priority. Not meetin’ someone.”

Not wanting to push him too far, Tommy goes along with the subject change. “Speakin’ of Ellie, how’s she been doin’ by the way? Haven’t really seen much of her since you two got back.”

Joel hesitates, momentarily unable to meet Tommy’s eyes.

It’d been a couple of weeks now since the events that took place back in Salt Lake City. 

Since the hospital.

Since the Fireflies.

Joel had certainly thought once or twice about confiding in Tommy about what he had done. How he had ruthlessly and without a single ounce of mercy killed all of those people in the hospital, how he had shot Marlene dead at point blank range—how he had violently and single handedly stopped what had most likely been humanity’s only chance at potentially finding a cure for the cordyceps infection by preventing the Fireflies from operating on Ellie and performing a brain surgery that would have killed her. 

Joel doesn’t regret it, nor does he regret the choice he’d made on Ellie’s behalf.

He would do it all over again in a fucking heartbeat if it came down to it.

He doesn’t carry guilt over having done what he’d done, but he does carry the guilt of having lied to her about it after it was all said and done. He felt awful for looking her in the eye and swearing to her that everything he’d said about the Fireflies was true when it wasn’t. Ellie claimed to believe him, but he knew better than that. She was smart, too fucking smart for her own good. She might not have known the extent of it all, but she knew for certain that Joel wasn’t being entirely forthright about what had gone down in Salt Lake City while she’d been unconscious.

From that moment on the mountain, things had been quite tense between them. That conversation instantly caused a rift in their relationship, but Joel could tell she was doing her very best to force herself to fully believe that he was still a person she could trust, a person she could put her faith in. He took an odd sense of comfort in knowing that her forced efforts to keep believing in him had to have meant something good. 

She didn’t want to give up on him or on their relationship.

Joel exhales a heavy sigh, finally answering the question. “Not too great,” he admits, quietly. “I’m real worried ‘bout her, Tommy. It’s been a couple weeks now since we’ve been back and she still hasn’t made one single goddamn friend around here. She doesn’t fuckin’ talk to anyone, barely even talks to Maria.” He sighs again, tiredly rubbing the side of his face with his free hand. “She spends most of her time hidin’ out in the stables with the horses. She would rather be around them than other people. She can’t live the rest of her life like that. I try to tell her she needs to put in more effort on her part, but she won’t fuckin’ listen to me.”

“Just give her some more time, Joel. After everythin’ that poor kid’s been through in her life, it ain’t a big surprise that she’s strugglin’ a bit to fit in around here, y’know?” Tommy notices the way his older brother’s jaw clenches and he offers him a look of sympathy. “Look, I know Ellie means a whole lot to you and if I were you, I would be real worried ’bout her too. But just give her a little more time to adjust. She’ll get there, I know she fuckin’ will. She’s a real strong kid, big brother.”

“Yeah, I know she is,” Joel murmurs in agreement. “Hell of a lot stronger than someone her age should have to be.”

“She’ll be just fine,” Tommy reassures him. “She’ll find her place here, Joel. Just wait. You’ll see.”

“I sure as hell fuckin’ hope you’re right.”

You relish the feeling of warm sunlight hitting your face.

Summer’s just beginning in Wyoming, and after a particularly long, cold and cruel winter that swept the western state this last year, you couldn’t have been more thrilled to see that warmer weather is well on its way.

At least, for now you’re thrilled.

Winters in Jackson were god awful, but summers could be just as brutal, if not worse.

Clutching the strap of your old, but sturdy brown leather satchel bag securely over your shoulder, you hurriedly make your way across the settlement from the mess hall and back towards the horse stables, the place you commonly referred to as your second home—it wasn’t all that much of a joke, seeing as you often spent more time there than you didn’t. It’s now after lunch hour, and there’s still plenty of work to be done before the end of the day rolls around, most of it which would undoubtedly trickle into the next day.

Being the only veterinarian in the community, there was always more than plenty of work to be done every day. Too much work to be done by one single person alone. Often, you find yourself feeling quite overwhelmed by it all. You feel like you’re completely in over your head, and it leaves you wondering if you’d made the right decision by taking such an enormous responsibility into your hands.

Then again, it’s not like you’d been given much of a choice. In a way, it had been expected of you.

Prior to passing away from illness two summers ago, your father had been the veterinarian who looked after the animals. Even though you hadn’t been trained professionally like he had, your father decided to spend the final years of his life teaching you to the best of his ability and with what little resources he had available. After all, Jackson was going to need someone to step up and take care of the animals when he was gone—particularly the hoses. Even as his physical health worsened, he used every last ounce of strength he had left in him to prepare you to take over for him when he died. Thanks to him and all he’d done for you, you certainly knew a thing or two, but the job was still daunting, even after all this time of being in practice on your own without him there to guide you like before.

Keeping the horses healthy to begin with made your job a hell of a lot easier, but when a horse became sick or injured, that was when your knowledge and your skills were truly put to the test. Horses were how everyone traveled when in search of needed supplies, how patrolmen and women moved around while they were out and about on watch keeping the community safe against the infected and against raiders. Horses were one of the most important, most precious resources the commune possessed. They kept everything going, everyone moving, and you’d be fucking lying if you said that being the sole person in charge of caring for them didn’t put a tremendous amount of pressure on your shoulders.

Sensing your doubt, Maria Miller often assured you that you were the best person for the role—the only person for the role. “The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she had complimented you over coffee at her place the morning after you had successfully removed a bullet lodged into the shoulder of one of the horses that had been injured while Tommy and his group were out on overnight patrol. They’d stumbled across violent and armed raiders, and luckily everyone had made it out unscathed with the exception of Tommy’s beloved black horse, Ranger. You recalled being pulled out of your bed in the middle of the night to tend to him, the first serious case you had to take care of without your father’s guidance. Thankfully, the stallion’s injury hadn’t been life threatening, and you were able to patch him up within the hour. After just a few weeks of working with Ranger and putting him through physical therapy, the horse made a full recovery and both Maria and Tommy couldn’t have been more thrilled with your work.

Still, you still continued questioning your own abilities, but it didn’t really matter in the end. Both Maria and Tommy decided to assign you as Jackson’s equine veterinarian, pulling you from your previous job, which had been helping Seth make sandwiches at The Tipsy Bison.

You rush into the stables, making a mental list with the names of all the horses that you still need to check over for the day, including the group of horses that had just arrived back from that morning’s patrol. You make your way down to the very last stall which is serving as home to a stunning, chestnut-brown pregnant mare.

“Hi there, Stella,” you coo sweetly, beaming at the beauty. “Hi, my gorgeous girl. How are you doing today, sweetie pie?”

“I would be doing a hell of a lot better if I could have one of those apples in your bag,” a voice answers, startling you slightly.

Peering around Stella’s body, you catch sight of Ellie laying down on a small bed of hay in the furthest corner of the stall. She’d made something of a pillow out of her backpack, kicking back as she flips through her favorite superhero comic book for what had to be the hundredth time. She offers you a silly, lopsided grin the minute she takes a glimpse at the baffled look on your face. “Howdy.”

“Ellie,” you sigh her name softly. “What in the world are you doing in here?”

“Living my best life,” she deadpans. “What else does it look like I’m doing?”

You try but mostly fail, in hiding your laughter at her quick witted sense of humor. “Ellie,” you say her name again. “You can’t just hide out in here with the horses every single day, you know,” you point out, dropping your heavy satchel bag onto the ground. Stella lowers her head and gives it a sniff, no doubt smelling those apples you always carried around with you.

“Wanna bet?” The teenager quips with a small joking smirk as she sits up, tossing her comic book to the side. Bits of hay stick out of her brown hair, which she always keeps tied back in a messy ponytail.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school with the other kids?”

She rolls her eyes. “I already went to school. Back in the Boston QZ. FEDRA’s finest, dude.”

You don’t know all that much about Ellie Williams—nor about the brooding older man that she’s here with, Joel Miller. The only thing you do know is that Joel happened to be Tommy Miller’s older brother and he acted as Ellie’s guardian. Initially, you’d thought he was her father, but Maria had told you that he had no familial relation to the girl, a fact that took you by complete surprise.

Their arrival in Jackson back during the winter season had the entire town talking—but by the following morning, the pair were gone, not to be seen again for several months until their return towards the end of spring just a couple of weeks ago. Rumors flew once the word of their return had gone around, but in reality, no one had the slightest clue about where they had gone or why they had left the safety of the commune’s walls in the first place. Not even Maria, who had failed in getting her husband to talk. She swore up and down Tommy knew something she didn’t, but he refused to spill his brother’s secrets, even to his own wife.

Like everyone else in the tight knit community, you were curious about Ellie, and you were especially curious about Joel. You’d seen him around a couple of times before, but hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet. Still, even without having spoken a single word to him, you already knew he wasn’t anything like Tommy, or anyone else you’ve ever encountered, really. A man of very few words, he kept to himself, just like Ellie did. Still, Joel knew he needed to find his place and pull his weight in Jackson just like everyone else, and once he began working patrol alongside Tommy, he finally began engaging with other members of the town. 

Reluctantly so, but at the very least, he was trying.

Ellie, on the other hand, avoided everybody at all costs. Everybody, that is, except for you.

Since their arrival, Ellie chose to spend her days in the stables. She’d hang out with the horses while reading her comic books or listening to tapes on some old Walkman she had permanently borrowed from Tommy. Despite a hectic schedule that kept you busy, you eventually started taking the time out of your day to talk to her. It had started off with light chatter about the most trivial of things—how the day was going, whether or not the weather was nice outside, what had been served for lunch in the mess hall that afternoon. Ellie seemed almost annoyed with you at first, but after a couple of days, she’d quickly started warming up to you and by the end of the first week, she had started following you around the stables, joining you wherever you needed to be. The girl had taken a liking to you, but she was still quite guarded and careful, as if she were still testing the waters, figuring out whether or not you could be trusted.

You don’t mind that, though.

Little by little, simply by being kind to her and making the genuine effort to get to know her, you’re slowly beginning to chip away at her layers. There was still quite a long way to go if you ever wanted the teenager to completely open up to you, but you didn’t mind that either.

You’d be as patient with her as you needed to be.

You walk over to her. “Listen Ellie, as much as I really enjoy having you around me all the time, you really do need to make friends, you know.”

She blinks. “But you’re my friend.”

Even as you rephrase yourself, you can’t help but smile. “Friends your own age,” you remark, tucking the loose lock of your hair that had fallen loose from your dutch braid behind your ear. “You know, my husband, he has a niece named Dina. She’s about your age. I could introduce you to each other if you'd like?”

Ellie furiously shakes her head. “No.”

“Ellie—”

“Everyone around here looks at me like I’ve got two fucking heads or something. She probably fucking will too,” she mumbles. She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I’d have an easier time fitting in around here if I was a fucking clicker.”

Chuckling, you gently shake your head at her.

By now, you’d pretty much gotten used to her rich and colorful vocabulary.

You crouch down in front of her. “Look Ellie, I know how hard it is not to fit in with others.”

“You?” Ellie blows a loud raspberry in complete disbelief. “No fucking way. I don’t believe that for one fucking second, sweet cheeks.”

“Hey, in case you didn’t know this, I haven’t always been this age,” you remind her, lightly swatting at the side of her knee with your hand. “I was fifteen once too.”

“Yeah, and you were probably little miss fucking perfect, just like you are now.” She rolls her brown eyes at you in a teasing manner. “I bet everyone just loved you.”

You swat at her knee again. “Oh, stop that. That couldn’t be any further from the truth,” you reply, wondering where this child had come up with the idea that you are, or had ever been perfect. “I was still living in one of the quarantine zones with my family when I was your age, Ellie. We were living in the Alburquerque QZ for quite a while before it got overrun by the infected. They had schools and everything, just like in Boston. My mother was a nurse, so she had the privilege of enrolling me in one of their better schools, a preparatory school—she had the hope that I’d become an officer so I could have a chance at a decent life.” You pause, noticing a strange glimmer flash in the girl’s eyes, but when she says nothing, you continue on, “So I got the absolute pleasure of going to school with a bunch of kids whose parents were officers and important higher ups in the zone. And let me tell you something, the world may have gone to complete shit, but teenagers can still be fucking assholes.”

Ellie throws her head back and laughs loudly. “Whoa! I never thought I’d hear you curse. I thought you were too fucking prim and proper for that.”

“I’m not all that prim and proper,” you counter, grinning at the way she continues to cackle. “Besides, spending all this time with you might just have me cursing like a fucking sailor by the end of the week.”

“Fuck yeah it will,” she agrees with a nod. 

You grin again, but when your eyes meet Ellie’s, it falters slightly.

Ellie hadn’t told you much of anything about her past, but one thing was for certain—the young girl had been through hell and back. You could see it written all over her face, even when she smiled and even when she laughed. The traces of terror, pain, and trauma were quite subtle, but they were very much present and in recent nights, you’d find yourself lying in bed, wide awake and wondering what all this poor child had gone through in her life. Thoughts about what Ellie had seen, what and who she had lost in this world haunted you.

She’s different. 

What she’d been through made her different.

It set her apart from the other children, especially those who don’t know what it’s like to live a life outside these four walls.

It pained you to know that she felt ostracized when you were willing to bet your life that whatever had happened to her, it hadn’t been her fault.

Ellie Williams wasn’t your responsibility—you hardly know her. But you already care about her. An inexplicable soft spot for her had found its way into your heart from your very first interaction with her. If there’s anything you can do to help her ease into this new way of life, you’ll gladly do so without hesitation.  

“So then,” Ellie finally says after a minute, looking up at you. “Is it, uh, is it alright if I keep coming to the stables to spend time with you and the horses?”

“Of course.” You rise to your feet and glance at Stella. “But only on one condition. You have to help me out with the grooming. I’ve been really short handed lately and could use the extra help. Deal?”

She jumps up to her feet, eagerly nodding her head. “Deal.”

Joel dumps his plastic tray and used dishware into the designated dirty dish bin before shoving his way through the doors of the mess hall. The air outside is still relatively cool, it’s crisp and fresh—but the temperatures are sure to get a hell of a lot warmer now that summer has officially arrived. Not that he minded.

He keeps his sights set straight ahead of him, doing his best to avoid eye contact with anyone who so much as even throws a glimpse in his direction.

People seem to be getting to him, but oftentimes, he still feels like a pariah. It’s almost like he’s some fucking feral stray cat that Jackson had adopted and taken into it’s home, willing to tame him, but still afraid that he could start tearing shit up at any given moment if they didn’t keep a close enough eye on him. He could handle that, though. It’s his Ellie he’s worried about. Between the survivor’s guilt she’d been dealing with on a daily basis and the way she was looked at in the community by everyone, Joel feared for her well being. He could only hope that Tommy was right about her just needing time and that eventually, she’ll find her place and he’ll have the chance to give her the most normal life possible under the circumstances. 

It’s the very least Joel could do for her after all she’d been through in the last year—after what he’d done, how he had lied straight to her face. He fucking owed her that much.

Ellie deserved happiness, and he would do just about anything in his power to give it to her.

Joel arrives at the horse stables and makes his way inside. “Ellie?” He calls out her name. “Ellie? You in here?”

That’s when he hears her voice. 

“Wait, what? Stella’s pregnant? I didn’t fucking know that!”

Rounding the corner into the very last stall, Joel sees Ellie standing there, her tiny little hand on the muzzle of a brown horse. In her opposite hand, she’s holding a mane brush. She isn’t alone.

He’s surprised to see you standing there beside her, your hands planted on your hips. You’re wearing a pair of well worn light wash blue jeans, the legs tucked into a pair of weathered black riding boots whose soles are completely caked with muck. Joel remembers you wearing an oversized, long sleeved red flannel shirt back in the mess hall, but it’s now off and tied around your waist, leaving you in a thin, cotton white tank top—the material fits snug on your frame, and Joel tries his hardest not to stare at the patch of bare skin that peeks between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your jeans.

Christ.

You’re even more beautiful up close.

Fuckin’ get a grip, Miller, he thinks silently to himself.

“She sure is,” you reply to her question with a wide grin. “We just found out about a week ago and believe she’s about a few weeks along. We’ll have a sweet new baby in a year.”

“What? No fucking way!” Ellie exclaims, looking thoroughly excited, but bewildered by the fact. “Horses are pregnant for a whole year? Holy shit man, that’s fucking nuts!”

“Well, for eleven months,” you clarify for her, giving Stella a gentle, but firm pat on her muscular neck. “This is Stella’s first one. We’re hoping for a smooth pregnancy that reaches full term, but sometimes babies decide to come a bit sooner than expected.”

Curiously, Joel’s lips part and his eyes widen slightly.

He can’t fucking believe it.

Ellie hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone in two weeks and yet here she is, engaging with you so easily and so effortlessly, cracking the first genuine smile he’d seen since they had fed that giraffe back in Salt Lake City. More than that, Ellie is being herself, cursing up a storm and all, and you don’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it, not like the other adults whose jaws would drop in utter horror at her use of such foul language.

Joel wills himself to move and steps inside of the stall. He lightly clears his throat. “Ellie.”

You and Ellie both turn around, glancing in his direction.

“Joel? What are you doing here?” she asks, her smile fading slightly.

“Lookin’ for you. It’s lunchtime. Y’need to go eat somethin’ kiddo.”

She holds up the brush in her hand. “But we were just about to—”

He stops her with a stern glare. “Lunch. Now. Go.”

“Fine,” Ellie huffs and rolls her eyes at him. Picking up her red and tan backpack from the ground, she hands you the mane brush and stomps out of the stall, roughly shoving into Joel’s shoulder as she pushes past him without another word.

Joel glances at you, a sudden wave of awkwardness washing over him. Just as he’s about to politely excuse himself and leave, you speak.

“You’re Tommy’s older brother, right? Joel?”

He nods. “Yeah. I am.”

Stepping away from Stella, you walk over to Joel and introduce yourself, extending a hand for him to shake.

Your name is as beautiful as you are and it sounds heavenly when he repeats it, rolling smoothly off his tongue. He takes your hand in his own and the contrast between the two is stark. Your hand is soft against his rough, small compared to his large, but somehow still an all too perfect fit.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Joel.” Your eyes find his, meeting them in a way that makes something inside of him that had been sleeping for decades now stir itself awake—it’s a feeling that’s too foreign for him to pinpoint. 

Realizing he’s been holding onto your hand longer than necessary, he drops it and takes a step back, lightly bumping his back against the stall door. “I’m—uh, I’m real sorry ‘bout Ellie,” Joel apologizes to you after a minute. “I know she’s been spendin’ a lot of time in here. I hope she hasn’t been botherin’ you or gettin’ in the way of things. If she is, I’ll have a talk with her.”

“No, no. Of course not. She hasn’t been bothering me at all,” you quickly assure him without missing a beat. “I’m usually in here alone, so it’s actually been really nice having her around. I enjoy her company a lot.”

“You do?”

You toss him a puzzled, but amused look. “Is that so strange?”

Joel places his hands on his hips and leans back against the stall door. “Ellie’s been havin’ a little trouble,” he confesses. “Adjustin’ to life here and meetin’ people. She, uh—she ain’t like all the other kids around here, y’know?”

“I know.”

His eyebrows raise to his hairline—exactly how well had you and Ellie gotten to know each other already? What all had she told you? What did you know about her?

What did you know about him?

Joel tries to mask the concern on his face.

“I was just talking to her a little while ago. I told her I know how hard it is being a teenager and trying to fit it in with the crowd, even in a world like this one.” You let out a humorless laugh and shake your head, the ridiculousness of what you’d just said sounding sillier out loud than it had in your mind. “It’s even harder when you’re just so different.” You detect the way that your statement triggers something of a negative response from Joel—the way his eyes darken in a flash of anger and his nostrils flare slightly tell you he doesn’t take all too kindly to anyone talking negatively about his kid. Ellie being different is something that he already knows, of course, but hearing it from someone else isn’t easy for him, and it certainly isn’t welcome. It puts him right into protective mode and you don’t blame him, not in the slightest. You hold your hands up and reassure him, “There’s nothing wrong with being different, by the way.”

Joel sees the sincerity in your eyes that go hand in hand with your words and his defenses switch off almost as quickly as they’d switched on. “There isn’t,” he agrees with a careful nod of his head. “Nothin’ wrong with it at all.” He clears his throat. “M’sorry, I didn’t mean to—it’s just that I don’t really like it when people start runnin’ their mouths ‘bout my kid, that’s all.”

Waving a hand, you assure him, “No need to apologize at all, Joel.”

Little by little, he starts relaxing. Taut and tense muscles that have been wound up for years and years are suddenly beginning to loosen. All it’s taking is being in your presence and talking to you. Joel suddenly understands why Ellie’s taken such a quick liking to you. 

You’re unlike anyone that either of them had ever met before. You’re bright and you bring about this warmth—a different kind of warmth Joel hadn’t felt in so fucking long. It feels like seeing the sun for the very first time after spending years and years trapped in a cold, cold darkness.

He glances around the stall. “So, uh—what’s the deal? You one of the stable hands around here or somethin’ like that?”

“Something like that,” you repeat after him, a tiny grin tugging at the corners of your mouth at the way he speaks with a heavy, but still incredibly charming Southern drawl. “I’m the veterinarian here in Jackson.”

He chuckles. “Y’mean, those still exist?”

“Sort of. My father used to be the veterinarian here,” you explain to him. “That was what he did for a living before the outbreak happened. We lived in New Mexico on a horse ranch when I was growing up—he started off as a stable hand and then he went back to school to become an equine veterinarian. When we got here a few years ago from one of the quarantine zones, he told Maria what he had done for a living before this and he was asked to care for the horses in exchange for our place here.”

“And you?” Joel can’t help but wonder out loud. You seem quite young, can’t be older than your late twenties or early thirties at most, which would still have made you a child when the outbreak happened. “No offense darlin’ but you seem a little bit too young to have gone to vet school before shit hit the fan.”

Darlin’.

He doesn’t mean to call you that. But it’s too late—and you don’t appear bothered by it.

Instead, you laugh, and the sound is like a gorgeous melody he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life if given the chance. “No, I definitely did not go to veterinary school. Actually, my dad taught me everything I know.” You speak fondly of him as you continue to say, “He educated me. Well, as best as he could considering the circumstances and all. He gave me a ton of books that I could read and study from, but most of it was hands-on training. He tried to teach me all that he could before he died a couple of years ago.”

Joel frowns. “Oh. Sorry to hear ‘bout your dad.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry.”

He peers at you, wondering what had happened to him. 

“He died of illness,” you tell him, as if having read his mind. “Cancer, we think it was, but we obviously can’t know for sure without proper testing. And before you say it again, you don’t have to be sorry.” You cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head at him as you change the subject and ask, “So, how are you settling in?”

“S’been alright, I reckon. Real different from what I’m used to—from what we’re both used to,” Joel answers, referring to Ellie.

“I can imagine it is. It took me a while to get used to this place when I first got here too. It’s such a different way of life, especially when you lived under FEDRA control for so long,” you empathize with him, sighing as you drop your arms back down at your sides. “You stay just a couple of houses down from Tommy and Maria, right?”

“Yeah, we’re two doors down in the brown and greenish lookin’ unit.”

“I’m in the light blue and white cottage right across from them,” you inform him, your pretty eyes twinkling as you give him a smile. “I guess that kind of makes us neighbors, doesn’t it?”

Joel’s stomach somersaults.

If you didn’t stop smiling at him like that, there was going to be a problem.

“It does,” he manages to say. Remembering Tommy’s warning from earlier, he decides it would be best for him to leave—and the quicker, the better because he’s beginning to notice how fucking easy it is to fall under your spell. He pushes himself away from the stall door. “I should probably get goin’ now. Got evenin’ patrol,” he says. “Listen, uh, I really appreciate you spendin’ time with Ellie and bein’ so kind to her. Thank you for that.” He gives you a small grateful nod and turns on the heel of his boot to leave the stall.

“Joel?”

He stops dead in his tracks, his back stiffening slightly.

The sound of your soft voice saying his name is sweet like pure, raw honey.

If he isn’t careful, he’ll become addicted to it—he fears he already is.

Swallowing harshly, Joel turns back around to face you. “Yeah?”

“We’re having this big get together tomorrow night in the barn that’s right across the way,” you say, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder. Through the small round window in the stall, he can see the very barn you’re talking about. “We do it every single year on the first day of summer. We do it for the kids more than anything, but everyone comes out.” There’s a subtle hint of shyness to your tone. “I’m not sure if Tommy or Maria have mentioned it to you yet, but there’s going to be a big barbecue, drinks, and even dancing. The whole nine yards.”

Joel has to bite back a small scoff of disbelief. “You serious?”

“Hey, the world might have ended, but people still know how to get down and party,” you joke. You observe the genuinely perplexed look that crosses his face and giggle. “I know it must sound really bizarre. But it’s a lot of fun and it’s a great way to really get to know the folks around here. I think it would be great if you and Ellie both came.”

“Ain’t too sure if it’d be Ellie’s thing. Or mine,” he admits, raking a hand nervously through his hair at the thought.

“You won’t know unless you give it a shot, Joel.” You gift him with another brilliant smile that just about makes his heart stop inside his chest. “Please?”

Joel hardly knows you.

Hell, up until five minutes ago, he hadn’t even known your fucking name—how is it possible that he can’t say no to you? A complete fucking stranger?

He thinks about it. He doesn’t like the idea of having to interact with anyone outside of his patrol duties, but if going to the damn thing means seeing you again, then he’s willing to at the very least give it a shot. 

“Maybe we’ll both stop by for a bit and check it out,” he finally replies, exhaling a sigh of defeat.

“Great!” You beam happily. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Joel repeats, giving you one last nod before turning and leaving the stall.

As he leaves the stables and heads home, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards at the mere thought of seeing you tomorrow night. 

Shit.

Yeah, he’s in fucking trouble. 

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller hbo #fic: a safe haven #fic: ash

[mcflymemes]

VARIOUS SETTINGS / LOCATIONS PROMPTS *  location based prompts for starters, adjust as necessary

[ 01 ] a crowded masquerade party, on the dance floor

[ 02 ] the narrow space between two dusty bookshelves

[ 03 ] a shady spot in the sand under a boat dock

[ 04 ] the cereal aisle of a neighborhood cornerstore

[ 05 ] a one-stall, one-sink bathroom in a noisy bar

[ 06 ] standing next to the only car in an otherwise-empty parking lot

[ 07 ] a field of ready-to-pick corn, the stalks making it impossible to see the space around you

[ 08 ] the sun-dappled, grassy edge of a small lake

[ 09 ] intermission at a broadway show

[ 10 ] seated beside each other at a nail salon

[ 11 ] a desolate field in the middle of nowhere, just before a rainstorm

[ 12 ] a lonely bus stop at 2am

[ 13 ] the garden center of a home improvement store

[ 14 ] the only two people at a hotel bar on new year's

[ 15 ] on a bench beside a large fountain and its lit-up water display

[ 16 ] the messy chaos of an all-you-can-eat buffet

[ 17 ] a city rooftop with lightning in the distance

[ 18 ] a rusty fire escape

[ 19 ] inside an ice cream shop

[ 20 ] at the entrance of a lost temple in the middle of a thick jungle

[ 21 ] the waiting area of a busy doctor's office

[ 22 ] a city street teeming with news vehicles, camera crews, and reporters

[ 23 ] a hammock on the beach strung between two palm trees

[ 24 ] a locked door. the key is under the mat

[ 25 ] the large, ornate rotunda of an official building

[ 26 ] an empty, run-down subway car

[ 27 ] the only gas station for miles

[ 28 ] an airport café during the breakfast rush

[ 29 ] a wine tasting event for couples

[ 30 ] the cliffside overlooking a magnificent, roaring waterfall

#rp prompt #rp questions #rp meme #roleplay meme #writing prompts #writing prompt #rp asks #askbox meme #ask meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter #sentence starter prompt #sentence starters #prompts #mcflymemes #setting prompts #location prompts #thank you to dollhidden for the idea! #all credit to you for the inspiration!! :)

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The House Always…Loses? Pt 1

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. This was supposed to be a one shot about how Husk sold his soul, but I couldn’t help myself.]

[Part 1/2 Word count 3142 CW: alcohol consumption, gambling, mentions of sex.]

——————

The house always…loses?!

The 1970’s. You could tell there was some crazy shit going on in the world of the living. Mostly because the new arrivals in Hell had some particularly messed up forms. Tom Trench, 666 News’ anchor, had ended every broadcast for the past three years in an orgy after reporting on the war on Earth as well as the local conflicts.

“Complete lack of class,” Alastor shook his head as the two of you passed a large television screen in one of Pentagram City’s plazas. It was tuned to Tom’s nightly sign off; the camera off kilter and focused on the desk at a bizarre angle. Evidently the camera operator was part of the group on top of the desk. You could hear Tom saying, “oh fuck yeah I’m gonna invade all your landmasses baby,” followed by “here comes the firebombiiiiiiiiingggguh.”

“Zut alors, he’s turned into such a disgrace.” You scowled. “He might as well just work for that uncouth moth bastard at this point.” As you described Valentino, your voice gained a rough edge and wind started to swirl around you.

Your husband gave your hand a soothing squeeze. “Now now dear, you’ll muss your hair before I even get you on the dance floor if you keep it up. Besides cher, we’ll likely encounter him and the fad chaser at this party. If we all give into our emotions we’re likely to level the whole place.”

You breathed deeply. “And I’d hate to demolish a new establishment before even giving it a chance. Zestial requested a few songs as well, I can’t ruin my voice before granting him that.”

The two of you were attending a gala of Overlords and favored subordinates. One of the newest Overlords was providing the venue at his casino. These sort of get togethers were uncommon as more than one of the Pride Ring’s leaders in the same place often resulted in considerable property damage. So this newcomer was either extremely confident or foolhardy. Typical of a gambler.

At the entrance, you and your husband gave each other a final check; you straightened his bowtie, he smoothed back an errant lock of hair for you. Inside the casino was bustling with activity. It was set up into quadrants, each designated by a card suit. One section had slot machines designed to drain money from the poor saps who fell prey to their lights and false hopes. Deeper in were tables for more sophisticated ways to lose money. An elegant bar and well stocked buffet with dining tables nearby took up another section. The last quadrant had a stage for performers, lounge chairs for audience members and a dance floor. There was currently a band playing something forgettable on stage.

There was activity mostly at the gaming tables and bar. Not many Overlords were interested in the machines, the stakes weren’t high enough to care. And while the band was good, there wasn’t a headliner on stage at the moment. Food, alcohol, and barbed conversation was a bigger draw.

“Alastor, Y/N. Good to see you both.” The voice was sultry and professional all around once. “Ah, Carmilla, always a pleasure seeing you dear. You and your daughters,” you husband replied to the graceful Overlord.

“It’s been too long, Carmilla. Odette, Clara, you both look lovely cheres.” You glanced around the opulent venue. “So was this little fais do do your idea Carmilla?”

The tall woman shrugged elegantly. “In part. The owner of this establishment wanted to garner some attention and I owed him a small favor. I merely arranged the guest list. He took care of the rest.” She gestured to one of the card tables. “He’s entertaining guests with games of chance if you’d like to meet him.”

Alastor looked to you, “Well my dear, shall we meet our newest contemporary or mingle first?”

You spotted a tall figure draped in tacky fuschia leering in your direction from the bar, along with a shorter boxy headed demon boring holes into Alastor’s back. “Looks as if there are some unsavories around the liquor. I’m always interested in making new acquaintances.”

Arm in arm, you and your husband headed to the tables, Carmilla and her girls with you. You looked at them questioningly. “Ostensibly, as the hostess, I should introduce guests to each other.”

A demon about your height was dominating at the blackjack table. He had feline features in addition to a set of wings. Whereas your wings mimicked a natural bird’s coloration, his were more fantastical, vibrantly red and black with bars and dots all over. His hair was elegantly slicked back and his crisp tuxedo completed the air of a high roller.

He spotted Carmilla and after he won the current hand excused himself from the table, saying “duty calls friends.” He tucked his cane under his arm; the body was gold and topped with a sphere containing suit symbols, dice, and chips rotating like an orrery within.

“Husk, I’d like you to meet some of our colleagues.” Carmilla began as he approached. “This is Alastor, the Radio Demon, and his wife Y/N, the Singing Shrike. Alastor, Y/N, this is Husk, proprietor of this establishment and our newest sovereign Overlord.”

Alastor released your hand to shake Husk’s. “A pleasure to meet you my good man, truly a pleasure.” You followed up with your own pleasantries adding, “A lovely venue you have here. If the food and drink are up to the decor we may need to come around again, cher.”

“Pleased to meet you both,” his voice was rough but not unwelcoming. More like someone who had smoked excessively for years. “I don’t do things by halves, so I’m sure the refreshments are up to snuff. You’re both welcome to try the tables as well, if you can buy into the pot.” He stated a number that was high, but not exclusionary. No doubt he wanted to hook his patrons to get more value later. “We’re not betting souls tonight, that’s business and tonight’s for pleasure.” He gave you both a toothy smile before heading back to the cards.

You mingled both with Alastor and on your own. Waiters weaved through pockets of activity, serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres. There wasn’t really a crowd, which was smart considering how many Overlords could barely stand to be under the same roof, much less rubbing elbows.

It was somewhat inevitable though. A couple of hotheads, one you recognized and one you didn’t, started bickering, then yelling, then throwing punches. Any longer and they might have started bringing out some powers. Except they were stopped by a barrage of black playing cards. Off balance, they were crashed to the ground when a pair of giant dice rolled snake eyes onto them. Pinned, the two could only wait as Husk stalked over, the top of his cane glowing red.

“Didn’t your mamas ever teach you dumbasses any manners?” He slammed the butt of his cane down between their heads, sending a ripple of power out. “This is my house, my rules, so I’m going to teach you instead.” His gold pupils shined as he grinned down at them. “You wanna fight? You take it outside or I make you. You wanna settle things in here? We got plenty of ways to settle matters at the tables. Now what’s it gonna be bitches?” The two remained silent and continued to glare at each other. “Outside it is.”

The dice vanished but before the hapless combatants could do more than gasp a wave of poker chips carried them out the door with bone breaking force. Husk followed the wave calmly. From the other side, you could hear thuds, explosions, and screams. It only lasted a moment. Husk returned alone. One of the casino employees brought a new tuxedo jacket; there was dust and a bit of blood on the one he was wearing. He combed his hair back and returned to the game he’d been playing.

You sipped your whiskey, amused. Confidence it was then. “It seems our new friend can hold his own,” Alastor mused as he smoothly came up beside you. He held out a morsel of food for you, speared on a tiny skewer. “These are delightful, cher.” You pulled it off with your teeth. Shrimp in a spiced breading. “Mmm, that is lovely darling, thank you. And yes, he seems quite capable…for now.”

Anything else you would have said was derailed by a tall dark form appearing next to you and your husband. “If the two of thee have formed such an opinion of yon grimalkin, his potential is indeed of note.”

“My lord Zestial!” A light shiver sent your feathers rustling but that was expected around a demon as old and powerful as Zestial. Even Alastor tensed, a bit of strain around his lips and eyes. You curtsied as Alastor gave a slight bow. “You are as perceptive as ever. He has a great deal of power and potential. If his luck continues…”

Zestial chuckled. “Thou speaketh truth Shrike. One must make thine own luck. But ‘tis far too pleasant an occasion for such musings. Will thou grace the assemblage with thy voice tonight Shrike?”

“Of course cher!” As if you’d say no. Not to such a simple request from someone like Zestial. “I don’t suppose you have any requests? Or if there’s anything you’d like to hear darling?” you asked your husband.

Zestial shook his head. “Thy voice is a gift alone, I shall not presume to dictate its flow.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid I can’t help but dictate a little ma cher. Rosie requested a dance, so something she would enjoy?”

“I’d be glad to.” Alastor kissed your hand before seeing you off. You let Carmilla and Husk both know that you were ready to take the stage; you’d arranged everything ahead of time so the band was ready for you. Spotlights highlighted your mark as the lights dimmed slightly in the rest of the casino.

There was still a tremor of nervousness in your core as you took the stage. You were glad of it; if you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t care about the performance or the audience. So you let it fuel the passion in your voice. You started with something that would grab attention, tap some toes. The big numbers would come later. For now you wanted them to listen to you more than the alcohol roaring in their skulls.

Once you had a gathering and you could feel the upbeat vibe in the room, you went into some dance numbers. The first one was for Alastor and Rosie. Seeing those two dancing together made your heart soar. Some might have expected you to be jealous, another woman dancing with your husband right in front of you. But how could you be jealous of your partner and your friend being so joyful together?

Not to mention that after your deaths, Alastor had gotten taller while you…embarrassingly you were the same height. He could still escort you comfortably but there were some dance moves that you couldn’t do together. Rosie was the perfect height, light on her feet, and a delight to watch in her own right. Why deny her and Alastor the pleasure? Or yourself the pleasure of watching.

You sang a mix of eras, which kept the band on their toes. But you loved music from different times and hearing what you could do with various songs. Alastor and Rosie danced for most of the songs, you could see Carmilla’s daughters find partners, and Zestial with his eyes closed, head bobbing to the music. Not even glimpses of Valentino and Vox could spoil the mood.

As people got tired, you slowed things down. There was more swaying on the dance floor now; there weren’t a lot of overt couples among Overlords (at least not established permanent ones) but there were many that shared intimacy for a time. Some had followers they were particularly close to and the rest of their followers often had a special someone. So there were plenty of pairs swaying to your voice.

Your last song of the night was Alastor’s song. It was your routine to finish with that one; carried over from when you were alive. Any demons that had seen you perform before knew it was your finale and worth paying attention to. The applause after the last note felt like champagne bubbling in your glass: delightful. You had a policy of not taking encores or requests after Alastor’s song, no matter how much anyone offered.

Alastor was there as you descended, hand ready for you. “As ever, you make me glad you married me, cher. Shall we get something to eat, I’m starved.” He knew you were likely to be as well, you tended to be ravenous after a performance.

To your surprise, there was clapping still near you; Husk, pulled away from the gaming tables. “I haven’t heard a performance like that in years. I’ve got a proposition for you, Y/N. Can I have some of your time after your meal?”

You and Alastor exchanged a glance. “Why not join us? As you said, it’s a night for pleasure, so presumably it’s not too serious,” you said as Alastor nestled your hand in his arm.

“If you’re both alright with that, don’t mind if I do.” You took a seat at an empty table while Alastor prepared a plate for you. You didn’t always let him, but you had put a lot into that performance, with so many people to impress. Fortunately, neither he nor Husk took long. Vox was starting to eye you from across the room. You would have hated to get wires and grease all over Husk’s new floor.

Alastor presented your plate as smoothly as any waiter, earning a throaty chuckle from you. There were more of those lovely shrimp, prime rib, salad, a baked potato and a slice of peach pie. You ate like a bird, which meant voraciously. You had to eat close to half your body weight in a day, much like the little bird you resembled. Fortunately you weren’t a pure carnivore and the peach pie was wonderfully nostalgic.

“Well, cher,” you said while stabbing a forkful of greens, “what’s this proposition?”

Husk swallowed, wiped his lips, and leveled a golden stare at you and Alastor. “I’d like to hire you of course,” he replied, expectedly. “I don’t have a headliner here yet and watching you made me realize how much this place needs one.” He sipped his wine. “So what do you say to a couple shows a week? I’ll give top billing to an Overlord, especially with pipes like yours.”

You smirked and raised your glass in admiration. Most assumed that Alastor was the only one with power in your relationship. Despite there being multiple female Overlords, once they found out you were married they acted as if you were little more than your husband’s hanger-on. While that granted you a number of opportunities (and demons chained to you with deals) you appreciated any that had a better grasp on your marital dynamic.

“What kind of compensation are we looking at? I don’t sing for free, cher.” Not even tonight had been free; Carmilla had paid your rate. There was one being in all existence that got to hear you for free.

Husk immediately named a figure. A gambler he might be, but he was a businessman too. He gave a number higher than your usual fee. Not high enough to make him seem desperate, but enough that he respected your talent and to entice from other engagements. “Obviously any tips are yours and you both will get perks of casino employees.” Evidently he noticed your shared enjoyment of the food and drink and wanted to sweeten the deal by including Alastor.

You pretended to mull it over while chewing your prime rib. “Quite the generous offer, ma petite chat. Why not, say three nights a week?” Husk readily agreed verbally. Neither of you moved to shake hands or sign papers; you could never be too careful with Overlords, especially when you were one.

The three of you chatted lightly as you ate. Alastor and you had experience with the old guard while Husk knew a lot of the young bucks. Neither side was about to give away more than the minimum information, but you got the impression he could be a decent ally.

Or pawn.

After the meal Husk asked you for a dance. You readily agreed, looking forward to seeing how he was on his feet. Not to mention a dance partner your size would be a nice change. He wasn’t as good as Alastor (who was?) but he was quite good. He seemed surprised by a couple maneuvers that incorporated your wings, evidently he hadn’t experimented much with his.

He actually got three songs with you before thanking you and heading back to the card tables. You were just feeling warmed up and went to retrieve your husband. Only to be intercepted by none other than Vox.

“Hey there sweetheart. How about you let me show you moves?” He gave you a grin and moved to take your hand in his.

You raked him up and down with your eyes. “Oh Vox, I’ve seen all your moves. They’re not impressive.” You pinched his wandering hand between two of your talons, making sure to draw pinpricks of blood before releasing him. “Allons’y cher, best you find a partner who can slow down for you.” Alastor had arrived at your side and added, “My darling wife makes an excellent point, although I’m not sure there’s anyone who can. Better luck next time ol’ pal!”

Without further ado he swept you onto the dance floor. He gleefully kept you dancing the majority of the night. You changed up partners a couple times, him with Rosie and you with Husk. At the end of the last song of the night, a slow dance, he lifted you into a bridal carry. Your wings cupped around his shoulders as he swayed with you.

Back at home, he and you exchanged notes on the evening while going through your nightly routines. “Cher, are you certain you don’t want me to deal with Vox?” he offered yet again.

“I can handle him darling. It seems I’ll need to be more direct however. More importantly, what do you think of my new employer?”

“Hmm.” His staticky hum filled the room as he climbed under the bedcovers. “An interesting fellow, we’ll need to see how he does. And you being there so often will give us plenty of opportunities,” he chuckled darkly.

You matched his laugh. As you settled next to his lean form you replied, “Agreed. This should be entertaining.”

A/N: part two may take a couple days, I’m finding pre-deal Husk’s voice hard to pin down. I hope you all like my head canon for his stronger abilities. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for future Shrike snippets, she’s just fun to write. 💜🤍🩶🖤

@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3 @bengewatch

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin alastor #asexual alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin husk #fanfiction #asexual reader #asexual #ace representation #acespec

[creativepromptsforwriting]

50 More Date Ideas

taking a cooking class together

baking together their favourite treats

playing mini golf and becoming very competitive

going to a bowling alley and celebrating each strike together

going to an all-you-can-eat-buffet and staying for hours

getting a couple’s massage

having a fancy dinner night where they dress up for each other

recreating their first date

going on a hot air balloon flight over the countryside

working out together

going to a comedy show

going ice skating, holding each other up

relaxing together during a spa date

going to the opera in fancy clothes

going to a classical concert

doing geocaching

playing their favourite board games

going roller skating

doing a paint night

going to a cat café

cooking the dinner for their date together

visiting an animal shelter and playing with the animals

going camping without electronics

picking up trash together around the city

visiting an aquarium

going on a double date

doing a wine tasting

watching a sports game

visiting a planetarium

going to a rooftop bar

getting ice cream and strolling through a park

going shopping together at their favourite stores

exploring a national park

going to a library and quietly reading books next to each other

going to an old movie theatre and watching some classics

showing each other their favourite places in the city

buying drinks and sitting at a lake

going swimming together

exploring some castles together

doing stand-up paddling

upcycling furniture together

going climbing

playing computer games

going to a festival

doing a photo shoot together

walking shelter dogs

going to the park and playing frisbee

painting each other and gifting each other the painting

going clubbing

having a zoom date for long distance

First 50 Cute Date Ideas

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#date ideas #creativepromptsforwriting #dating prompts #writing prompts #prompt list #writing ideas #writing inspiration #creative writing #writeblr #writing exercise #writing prompt #50 date ideas

[izzywantscheesecake]

sick day-hobie brown

Today was a bad day.

You thought you had gotten rid of your sickness for good yesterday, but that was just the appetizer in the huge buffet of nausea your body was preparing especially for you.

You had begged your parents a second time to let you stay home from school, and they let you, albeit slightly skeptical about how sick you claimed to be. You hoped whatever was in you would disappear by the next day, because they told you after today they wouldn’t let you commit truancy any longer.

Nobody was in the house with you, everyone you lived with had work and their own personal things to deal with, so you had to treat yourself.

You stayed in bed all morning, not getting anything done and occasionally using your energy to get up and use the bathroom or go to the kitchen.

It hadn’t even hit you how much time had passed before it was around 3, the usual time your school ended. You wiped a bead of sweat off your forehead, annoyed about how lazy you’ve been all day even though it really wasn’t your fault.

Succumbing to your low energy, you began to feel your eyelids droop and your body relax. Just before everything went black, a sudden banging at your window caused you to jolt awake.

You shifted up in your bed, thinking the source of the noise might’ve been a squirrel or a pigeon, but a tall silhouette standing by your balcony told you otherwise.

Slowly pulling yourself out of the sheets, you walked towards your window, eyes beginning to sparkle once you recognized what was standing there.

It was your friend, Hobie Brown, from 6th form. He still had his uniform on, indicating he came to your house immediately after school ended, and he was holding about three bags, evenly spread out on each arm.

You unlocked your window, giving him access to your room, and he stepped in, his boots gruffly making contact with your wood tiled floor.

“Hey, Y/N. A little birdie told me you were feeling a bit iffy this week.”

“A bit? I’ve been bedridden all day. I only just got up to let you in,” You replied, swiftly pulling yourself under the warm sheets of your bed again.

Hobie examined you for a few seconds, before letting out a snort.

“Man, you look terrible. But not to fear, Hobie is here. And he’s brought you a whole lot of sacred scroll texts from the lost city of Atlantis.”

Hobie placed the first bag down, and took out a purple folder, which he then handed to you in a mock regal manner.

You opened the folder, and saw exactly what you expected to see in there. Three worksheets of linear algebra, and a packet containing some Shakespeare text with short response questions.

“Wow, thanks. My maths and literature homework.”

“I know, I’m amazing, right? Tell me why when I went to collect your work from maths, the teacher said she didn’t even think I attended school anymore.”

“Well, that lady’s always been quite senile. But then again, you’re constantly skiving so I also can’t blame her for thinking that. What’s in the other bags?”

“Some gifts.”

He opened the second bag, and you were delighted to see a pack of Cadbury chocolate bars, accompanied with a teddy bear and other various confectionaries.

Just as you were about to go all in, he stopped you.

“Wait. Have you eaten any real food all day?”

“No.. I’ve just been laying here.”

“I thought so.”

He opened the third and final bag, which was chicken broth, some spices, and a pack of noodles.

“Why did you..”

“I’m going to make you soup, silly. Consider me your private nurse.”

“You have too much free time. I’ll be fine, just go home.”

“Mmm, no. Any road, direct me to your kitchen. I’ve only ever seen your room.”

“It’s down the hall to the left. But I can show you, just follow m-”

You made a few attempts to stand up, and every time you did, Hobie would just gently shove you back onto the bed.

“Nuh uh. You stay here, let me take care of you.”

Eventually, you realized it was no use trying to fight him and you felt yourself sinking deeper down into the bed as you listened to him cook in the kitchen, humming some tune you’ve never heard of.

After maybe 30 minutes, Hobie re-entered your room with a tray of soup accompanied by tea. Also on the tray was a thermometer you assumed he must’ve stolen from your bathroom.

He gently placed the tray of food down, grabbing the thermometer and setting it closer to your lips.

“Okay, now open your mouth.”

“You’re serious about this nurse thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Now say, aaah,” He replied.

You opened your mouth and closed it once the thermometer was in. The both of you waited about a minute, before Hobie pulled it out of your mouth and examined the temperature.

“Holy shit, 38 degrees celsius. You’re burning up, Y/N.”

You shrugged as he put the thermometer down on your bedside table and picked up the tray of food, placing it gently in front of you.

“Start eating this while I get you a warm towel.”

The broth of the soup was better than expected, probably because Hobie also added additional seasoning. The tea was also good, you could taste a hint of honey which was helpful for your sore throat.

Hobie came back with the warm towel and placed it on your forehead to relieve congestion.

For the next hour, the two of you sat together, laughing and joking. Hobie told you about the latest drama at school that you’ve missed, and also talked about things he did over the weekend.

It was a very simple conversation, but you enjoyed it a lot, Hobie really had a way of making uninteresting things interesting.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of a car pulling up to your driveway, and immediately snapped your head up to check the time on the clock.

It read, “16:46.”

“Hobie, you gotta get out of here. My parents didn’t want anyone to show up to the house today.”

He quickly nodded, cleaning up as much as he could before unlocking the window. Before he jumped out, he gave you a glance.

“And don’t forget, that’ll be £150.”

You scoffed jokingly. “I said, get out of here.”

He smirked, before jumping out the window and taking off down the street.

As soon as Hobie was out of the picture, you heard your room door open, and your parents walked in.

They questioned the soup and tea on the counter in the kitchen, and you told them you had started to feel better, and made it for yourself.

Today might’ve actually been a good day.

#sickness #atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman #spiderpunk #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #atsv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x gender neutral reader #hobie brown x oc #british slang #not written by a british person #im black but reader is race neutral in this fic #fluff #could be read as platonic #could be read as romantic too

[femmespoiled]

The absence of Black lesbians in the bars is particularly striking, since one of the popular lesbian bars, Winters, was in the Black section of the city, on "the Avenue", and was owned by two Black women. Several factors seem relevant in explaining the Black lesbian community's preference for house parties over bars in the 1940s. First, the Black community was not yet large enough to provide anonymity for a Black lesbian social life. Although the Black community in Buffalo dates from before the turn of the century, it was relatively small. It began to increase dramatically during the 1920s, due to migration from the South. During the 1940s, the Black population of Buffalo more than doubled. Debra, who socialized in Buffalo during the 1930s and 1940s recalls the need for discretion to prevent the Black community from knowing she was a lesbian. This would make it unlikely that Black lesbians would want a bar in their own neighborhood. Leslie, when queried about Black lesbian bars, doubted if they existed in the Black section. She describes it as the "old ethnic problem... that you can't be funny in your own neighborhood." For this reason the majority of gay and lesbian bars were downtown. Second, at this point in the history of race relations in the U.S. in general, and in Buffalo in particular, well before the Civil Rights Movement, there was little possibility of a Black lesbian bar, or a fully integrated bar, in the downtown area of the city. A primarily Black gay and lesbian bar would have been too vulnerable to racist attack. And the process of integration of gay bars did not occur in Buffalo until the 1950s, and still caused tension well into the 1960s. Third, Black urban culture has a strong history of house parties; rent parties and buffet flats are noted in most Black community histories of the first half of the twentieth century. Thus in having regular parties Black lesbians were adapting their ethnic culture to their own specific needs. The lesbians who patronized bars in Buffalo were not only white but working-class. They came primarily from working-class families, and they themselves worked hard to earn a living, as beauticians, sales clerks, secretaries, or factory and hospital workers. Some sacrificed a lot to pursue an education and became skilled workers or technicians. A few with luck and effort were able to go into business for themselves. The homogeneity of the lesbian bar population makes a striking contrast with gay male culture, which has a long tradition of explicitly erotic cross-class socializing.

- Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold: The History of a Lesbian Community by Elizabeth Lapovsky Kennedy and Madeline Davis

#btexts #Bellas books #bellas butch/femme tag

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

I can have my favourite bed time story which is " one of the 141 is picking me up at the hotel bar/ already in the airport and oh look at that we are in the same hotel" bonus points to my brain when it goes into unhinged territory, bc it's not at all a coincidence that you both stop at the same hotel. You are just to nice of a distraction to let go for now

see i love this, because Ghost and Soap fit into this deranged narrative by default, but you know who would really masterfully orchestrate a meet-cute after meticulous planning?

He makes you nervous, and you don't know why.

He's cute. His hat and headphone combo make him look young and approachable and hip, and it doesn't hurt that he smiles so wide that deep, gorgeous smile lines appears around the corners of his eyes. You should be counting your lucky stars - you've got the company of this heart throb on your 7-hour flight...but your instincts tell you that something's not right. You ignore them.

He talks to you a lot - asks you so many questions about yourself that you're starting to think of this as a date - but he's equally as generous on information about himself: Gaz. Army. Special Forces. The real special forces, he smiles mischievously. Going back home for a few weeks.

You end up telling him about yourself too. Went to Uni in the UK, so you're back now that you can afford to properly do the touristy stuff. He recommends a few cities and you thank him profusely - ever grateful to have recommendations from a local. When he jokes about happily being your tour guide, you laugh and brush him off.

He's kind enough to wake you up when the flight attendants arrive with lunch, you think you're going to die when you realise you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder. He waves your apology off immediately. You have lunch together and it does feel like a date. He's respectful and kind and funny, he listens intently, asks meaningful questions, and he's pretty.

You part ways at immigration. He wishes you the best of luck with your troubles, and you tell him to keep out of it. No promises, he responds easily. (You're disappointed when he doesn't ask for your number, but it's fine, you tell yourself. No point anyway. He's home to relax and you're going to be touring the country.)

So imagine your surprise when he's at the hotel breakfast buffet the next morning. You walk up to him tentatively, hands clammy. Did he...follow you? No. No, that can't be right, you never told him where you were going. But then? Coincidence? Has to be, he doesn't seem the creepy type.

He seems genuinely surprised to see you, and your doubt dissipates a little.

You end up having breakfast together, and he tells you how he'd completely forgotten that his mum was away. He's a bit shy, clearly uncomfortable as he admits that he'd found being in the house by himself a bit quiet, too lonely, and had checked himself into the closest hotel he could.

You're skeptical, but you believe it just enough for him to successfully convince you that - now he's got nothing to do but wait for his mum to return - he really wouldn't mind showing you around, actually! It's his city after all, and you do want that authentic city experience that only a local could give you, don't you? Ah, the tourist-y spots are all overdone and gauche, love, he'll show you the real city.

Three nights of playing tour guide and bodyguard and boyfriend, and he's sinking into you in your hotel room, one he's effectively moved into.

Been waiting for my cock in your greedy little cunt, yeah? Know you've been touchin' yourself to me every night. So fuckin' tight, love, you've been keeping her tight for me? Been months since you've let anyone in her, have you been waiting for me?

#bonus points to your brain indeed! #also if this is incoherent I apologise because this is fever brain lumi #ask #anon ask #request #lumi writes #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x you

[mybelovedwoo]

dates with ateez - headcanon

how would a date look like with ateez members

headcanon, romance, fluff

gn!reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.4k

an: you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

hongjoong -shopping dates, where you both help each other to pick out outfits -just complimenting one another -studio dates, where you surprise him with food late at night -just eating delivery food and talking about anything and everything -him showing you what he's working on lately -making you playlists that you listen to together all the time

seonghwa -as funny as it sounds, lego dates -just the two of you building legos, or if you don't like it, you just sit there and admire him or cuddle him -just going on a walk, holding each other's hands -he pays attention that you walk on the inside, where it's safer -if you're cold he gives you his jacket

yunho -ohh game dates for sure -he hates losing, but sometimes he lets you win just for fun, and totally not because he likes to see you being excited about it -doing fun things, like going to a karaoke bar or renting a small boat and going fishing, or going to an amusement park and trying out every ride -lots and lots of laughter

yeosang -really random dates without any planning -picnic in the winter? sure. exploring a whole new city just for fun when it's pouring rain? sure. arranging a scavenger hunt at a place you don't even know? sure. -just a very sweet guy who listens to you all the time, and wants you to be the happiest -gym dates, if you don't like working out, you just sit there in the gym and watch him

san -the sweetest boy in the whole world -wants to do everything you like and makes you happy -you mentioned once that you would like to learn how to crochet, he books a course for the two of you the next day -he is the type of guy to bring you home, spending time with his family, showing his hometown around for you, telling you stories from his childhood -just staying at home and watching a movie -loooots of cuddles and kisses!!!

mingi -drive-in-movie, buying everything that is available at the buffet -not even watching the movie properly, but making fun of it, and laughing all night long -going to a concert of your favorite band together and going out to a bar afterward -always a lot of fun -just talking about nonsense things, non of you understand but it makes sense for the two of you -having a lot of inside jokes no one else understands

wooyoung -you'll never be bored with him that's for sure -going out all the time -going to all the restaurants in town, then rating them, and going back to the best on your anniversary -going to the han river at night, and exploring the city -never letting go of your hands and pulling you closer if somebody is a little too close to you -spending a lot of time with his family too

jongho -going to cafés, drinking americano, although you don't like it and always end up ordering something else -going to the park afterward, sitting on a bench, and talking about everything -he is a very good listener and gives the best advice -buying each other books and reading them, then telling each other what it was about -always buys you a gift, when you are on his mind, so the next date he can give it to you

#ateez #ateez headcanons #hongjoong headcanon #seonghwa headcanon #yeosang headcanon #yunho headcanon #san headcanon #mingi headcanon #wooyoung headcanon #jongho headcanon #ateez imagine #ateez headcanon #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez senario #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

[dumbawesomev69]

Hotel

Team rwby and _npr were having lunch when cardin approached them.

Cardin: oi have any of you seen jauney boy?

Pyrrha: if you mean jaune then he's helping one of our new residents moving in, she has a lot to unpack.

Cardin: what?

Ren: nora thought of turning the lower part of our dorms into a hotel/Airbnb.

Yang: it's doing well.

Weiss: and Ozpin is allowing it if he's get half of the profits.

Ruby (realize): wait are you and your team on a mission dealing with a Grimm attacking a city.

Cardin: 'groan' well as it turns out it's just a fat guy dressed as one so we can rate all the buffet and he refuses to leave so we need jaune boost us, So what room is he in because we need drag his fat ass.

Blake: room 69 down the hall.

Cardin leaves and arrives at the room

Cardin: can't believe he's busy helping some random lady when I need him, lazy ass.

About knock but heard

??: Okay jaune take the toothbrush out my ass and give me a bloody dragon.

Jaune: I thought we were doing the Panamanian petting zoo?

??: no Fuck that! Give me the Kentucky clite bar

Cardin: what the? 'knocks'

??: is that the room service, come on inside and look what I'm doing to jaune's ball.

Cardin: 'realization' What MOM!

Opened door

??: cardine is that you, can you get us some bottles of water.

Jaune: oh hey man, can you take a picture I didn't know your mom was this flexible.

At dorm entrance

Cardin: that's it mom! Get out, go home!

(Katherine Winchester made by @fatallybsessedart on deviantart)

Katherine(rubbing jaune chest from behind): I can't believe you can't accept me and jaune's love.

Cardin: that! That was not love okay I will never accept jaune sleeping with my mom get your hand off him. 'push hands off' Jaune come on we got to go to a buffet.

Katherine: he's full, he had a whole buffet of roast beef from the back.

Jaune: 😏 'nodding'

Cardin: oh god come on jaune! 'drags jaune away'

#sml #rwby shitpost #rwby fanart #fatallyobsessed #rwby #jaune arc #cardin winchester #payback #jaune revenge

[dduane]

Peter and the twenty suits and somehow that story contains tomato aspic? Color me intrigued

No, the aspic was an accidental confluence. But there was definitely tomato juice involved. (Also: not twenty. But a dozen, anyway.)

...So let’s turn our minds back to those thrilling days of yesteryear (i.e. 2008...). The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators kindly asked me to come be a keynote speaker at their yearly get-together, which that year was being held on the island of Hydra, in Greece. Leaving the honor of even being asked to one side, I’d never been to Greece, so I more or less instantly said “Yes!”

(Inserting a cut here. WARNING: this post contains: business travel, alcohol, and lemon zest.)

...Getting to Athens was going to be just a tiny touch complicated because at that point, none of the major airlines serving Ireland offered a direct DUB-ATH service. I thought about this for a while, and (since I’m on a frequent-flyer program with them) it seemed the most sensible way in and out of Athens was to take a Swiss flight to Zürich, stop there overnight if necessary, and catch the next convenient ZRH-ATH flight onward.

So Peter and I did that, and we went to Athens, and from there via catamaran ferry to Hydra; where I had a fabulous time conferring, confabulating and otherwise hanging out with my fellow wizards writers. And when that was all over, we regretfully started the process of heading home. (During the first leg of which process I cut an unexpected notch on my webmastering belt by actually doing website maintenance using a Nokia phone cabled to a laptop, while in the middle of the Saronic Gulf, on a hydrofoil.)

...Anyway. Back through Athens to the airport, uneventful flight from ATH to ZRH, train from the airport to Zürich Hauptbahnhof (the city’s main train station); did check-in for our morning ZRH-DUB flight there, while also checking our non-carryon bags through to the plane. Then, dinner at Hiltl Vegi, crash-and-burn at the favorite little hotel that’s about three minutes’ walk from Zuri HB, and up early the next morning for the train back to the airport: straight through security, and airside.

This version of “airside” was going to be a little more interesting for us than usual, because we’d been flown business class on this run. As a result we could get into one of the Swiss lounges, which are justly famous for their general poshness. More than that: since we were flying to a non-Schengen country, we would be leaving from the (relatively) new and shiny Terminal E.

So we did the underground people-mover underneath the runways and came out in the new terminal, and headed upstairs for the business lounge.

It was large; it was gorgeous. And the view out across the runways to the Alps was amazing. (Though that view was slightly impeded by what was, it was then said, the longest lounge bar in Europe.)

That was, granted, interesting enough. But our attention wasn’t primarily on that. What we were both most interested in when we first got there was a little something to eat and drink while we waited for the 11 AM-ish departure.

Now, this was long before that lounge had been renovated to contain a live open kitchen with hot and cold running chefs. In 2008 there were, however, free snack stations with assorted junk food—chips/crisps and pretzels and nuts, etc—and (that time of day) casual breakfast makings: cereals and milk, and mueslis and yogurts, and breads and butters and jams and cheeses and cold cuts and so forth.... such as you’d normally find in a central European breakfast buffet. There was also a coffee island nearby...

...and a drinks station with juices and sparkling water and soft drinks and beer and wine. Next to that one was a selection of basic alcohols and mixers. 

...The lounge was pretty full of people that morning: a lot of business folk were apparently getting ready to board pre-lunch or lunchtime flights. A lot of them were up at the bar for coffee or whatever, and the bar staff had their hands full. We’d had our coffee and our breakfast, and then Peter looked over his shoulder at the juice-and-drinks setup, and said, “You know, I might have a Bloody Mary.”

“Okay,” I said. “Make me one too?” Because we were in no rush, and this whole situation was looking rather brunchlike. Why not complete the picture? “...And if they’ve got something like V-8, do mine with that.”

So over to the drinks installation P. went, rolled up his sleeves, scoped out the available supplies, gathered together the necessary ingredients, and started making Bloody Marys with his usual air of proficiency. (If you’ve ever been at a convention where he happened to be doing bartender duty—such as a Minicon or similar—you’ll know what I mean. A careful eye for appropriate ingredient amounts, and great thoughtfulness about seasoning.)

He made mine first, and brought it over to where we’d been sitting. And then he went back and started making his. I wasn’t paying much attention to that: I was mostly drinking mine and gazing at the Alps. (If you put me within sight of mountains, I’ll be staring at them. It’s what I do.) ...And eventually I turned around to see if he was done making his, because I was thinking maybe I might want another one.

Except I couldn’t see him. He was surrounded by suits. (Or, more accurately, people wearing them.)

He was making them all Bloody Marys.

Yeah, okay, the bar was busy. But apparently somebody had seen Peter using the bar measures at the drinks station to get the shot sizes just right, and saw him teaspoon-measuring the Worcestershire sauce, and doing the dash-of-Tabasco thing, and employing the lemon zester, and and and... They got suckered in by the air of expertise, is all I can suggest. Guys in suits (and a couple/few very well-suited ladies) had begun surrounding him and asking him questions, most of them apparently beginning, “Sir, what are you doing? What is that?” and “What are you putting in there?” ...and eventually, “Would you show me how?”, and/or “Would you also make one for me?”

...And so he did. What can I tell you? ...I couldn’t see him well, except when someone in the surrounding group moved aside a little. (They totaled ten or twelve people, finally, as they drifted in and out.) ...But there he was at the core of that group, surrounded by an extremely complex comics-style talk-balloon of queries in several languages (it was Switzerland, after all; just in-country, you’ve got five or more to choose from...). Some of those people were translating for other ones. And celery and tomato juice and Ireland and science fiction and Tabasco and Star Trek were being discussed (and V-8: turned out there wasn’t any...) and God knows what else. And all these nice people in suits, one after another, were being equipped with Bloody Marys.

Eventually the crowd thinned out to nothing, and finally Peter came back with his own Bloody Mary, and sat down, shaking his head. Then he showed me a little sheaf of business cards.

We went through them. Futures traders and a couple of publishing execs and a guy who worked sales at the company that builds Irish pubs for international export and the lady who brokered high-end underground rare-cheese storage and the guy who did logistics on worldwide custom transport of organs for transplant. And a lot of offers to “Call me/us when you’re in town and let me/us buy you a drink to thank you.”

I shook my head. “Networking?” was all I could find to say at last.

Peter shrugged. “With tomato juice.”

#Travel stories #Peter and the Suits

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Victoria Spivey

Victoria Regina Spivey (October 15, 1906 – October 3, 1976), sometimes known as Queen Victoria, was an American blues singer, songwriter, and record company founder. During a recording career that spanned 40 years, from 1926 to the mid-1960s, she worked with Louis Armstrong, King Oliver, Clarence Williams, Luis Russell, Lonnie Johnson, and Bob Dylan. She also performed in vaudeville and clubs, sometimes with her sister Addie "Sweet Peas" (or "Sweet Pease") Spivey (August 22, 1910 – 1943). also known as the Za Zu Girl. Among her compositions are "Black Snake Blues" (1926), "Dope Head Blues" (1927), and "Organ Grinder Blues" (1928). In 1961, she co-founded Spivey Records with one of her husbands, Len Kunstadt.

Born in Houston, Texas, she was the daughter of Grant and Addie (Smith) Spivey. Her father was a part-time musician and a flagman for the railroad; her mother was a nurse. She had three sisters, all three of whom also sang professionally: Leona, Elton "Za Zu", and Addie "Sweet Peas" (or "Sweet Pease") Spivey (August 22, 1910 – 1943), who recorded for several major record labels between 1929 and 1937, and Elton Island Spivey Harris (1900–1971). She married four times; her husbands included Ruben Floyd, Billy Adams, and Len Kunstadt, with whom she co-founded Spivey Records in 1961.

Spivey's first professional experience was in a family string band led by her father in Houston. After he died, the seven-year-old Victoria played on her own at local parties. In 1918, she was hired to accompany films at the Lincoln Theater in Dallas. As a teenager, she worked in local bars, nightclubs, and buffet flats, mostly alone, but occasionally with singer-guitarists, including Blind Lemon Jefferson. In 1926 she moved to St. Louis, Missouri, where she was signed by Okeh Records. Her first recording, "Black Snake Blues" (1926), sold well, and her association with the label continued. She recorded numerous sides for Okeh in New York City until 1929, when she switched to the Victor label. Between 1931 and 1937, more recordings followed for Vocalion Records and Decca Records, and, working out of New York, she maintained an active performance schedule. Her recorded accompanists included King Oliver, Charles Avery, Louis Armstrong, Lonnie Johnson, and Red Allen.

The Depression did not put an end to Spivey's musical career. She found a new outlet for her talent in 1929, when the film director King Vidor cast her to play Missy Rose in his first sound film, Hallelujah!. Through the 1930s and 1940s Spivey continued to work in musical films and stage shows, including the hit musical Hellzapoppin (1938), often with her husband, the vaudeville dancer Billy Adams.

In 1951, Spivey retired from show business to play the pipe organ and lead a church choir, but she returned to secular music in 1961, when she was reunited with an old singing partner, Lonnie Johnson, to appear on four tracks on his Prestige Bluesville album Idle Hours.

The folk music revival of the 1960s gave her further opportunities to make a comeback. She recorded again for Prestige Bluesville, sharing an album, Songs We Taught Your Mother, with fellow veterans Alberta Hunter and Lucille Hegamin, and began making personal appearances at festivals and clubs, including the 1963 European tour of the American Folk Blues Festival.

In 1961, Spivey and the jazz and blues historian Len Kunstadt launched Spivey Records, a low-budget label dedicated to blues, jazz, and related music.

In March 1962, Spivey and Big Joe Williams recorded for Spivey Records, with harmonica accompaniment and backup vocals by Bob Dylan. The recordings were released on Three Kings and the Queen and Kings and the Queen Volume Two. Dylan was listed under his own name on the record covers. A picture of her and Dylan from this period is shown on the back cover of the Dylan album, New Morning. In 1964, Spivey made her only recording with an all-white band, the Connecticut-based Easy Riders Jazz Band, led by the trombonist Big Bill Bissonnette. It was released first on an LP and later re-released on compact disc.

Spivey married four times; her husbands included Ruben Floyd, Billy Adams, and Len Kunstadt.

Spivey died in New York on October 3, 1976, at the age of 69, from an internal hemorrhage.

#historical #black history month #singer

[ghouljams]

Fae Gaz must have been having a fucking ball in the 1880s. All the misery and want to get away from this terrible life. Hunter faes were just scooping these guys up.

You've hit one of my special interests, the Victorian era, congrats.

It's easy to be a weaver when everyone is desperate. Medicine is heroic because nothing works. Literature is all escapism and desire. People are miserable and fulfilled in equal measure. Life is uncomfortable, but indulgent. Sugar has recently become mainstream, fashion is elegant and elaborate, people are less trustful of fairy tales...

Gaz has a little shop where he sells goods, well, where he sells services. Sort of an apothecary, sort of a devil's bargain. The industrial age makes it hard to wander between mushroom rings, but the city makes a buffet look bare. Shop life is fairly boring, it's a lot of waiting, but it's better than hitting a molly bar or a gentleman's club. Besides that he gets bored when he has too many of the same sort of customer.

Why does everyone want to leave their wife anyway? Pathetic.

At least with a shop he gets a variety of wants to sink his hooks into. Cures for maladies, passing out changelings, running away from a marriage(good for them, Gaz thinks, making one less whiner at the club), wanting money or recognition, it's all so pedestrian. It's all so easy. Sometimes he just passes people off to Soap to see if he can do anything interesting with them.

Price keeps coming around to check on him, to check on his offer. It's bad for business having him and Ghost hanging around the shop. Or, well, actually watching Price deal with people is sort of intoxicating. There's something so elegant in the sinister way he works, the way his voice drops low and his victims seem to melt for him. It almost works on Gaz too. When Price leans against the shop counter and asks if he's still happy playing shop --they both know he isn't-- Gaz almost caves to the smoke Price swirls around the room.

"Aren't you tired of waiting for someone to walk through the door? Thought you were smart enough not to like easy." Price's eyes stare through him, asking questions he already knows the answer to. Anyone else and Gaz might think they were trying to be rude. No, Price is saying it to be sure Gaz has heard his unhappiness out loud.

"Easy keeps you fed." Gaz drums his fingers against the counter.

"Not in any way that matters," Price tells him. Gaz lets out a breath, shaking his head. He thinks about Soap's artists, shorter lived each time. Still, as much as he may hate them there are rules.

"Do you always stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" Gaz asks, unwilling to come up short in this exchange. That's probably the same attitude that got him here in the first place.

"Only when I think it's worth the effort," Price's smile is confident, he raises a hand and Ghost disappears somewhere. The shop is silent, save for Price's low voice. "You're not doing yourself any favors with this web, you know that as well as I do. At some point the gloves have to come off, and when they do you might find that your rules are more flexible than you'd thought."

"This is why people hate creditors," Gaz tells him quietly, it's a joke, just to see the amused shine in Price's eyes.

"And why you'll make a damn good one." Price holds out a small card, "You do your job right, and no one knows you were ever there. Doesn't that sound like more fun than waiting for a trap to spring?"

Gaz hums, taking the card and examining it. It's blank. Price tugs at a small tether now strung between them. He hadn't even thought- No it was something else, some warp of perception that Price had about him. Trustworthy, Gaz thinks, there's no threat behind his words. "When you want a drink you'll know where to find me," Price doesn't sound smug, doesn't sound like he's won anything, he's friendly, "Don't keep me waiting too long."

"I won't." And it's strange, but he means it. When Price nods, accepting his promise, Gaz feels something lock in, like a switch being flipped. This might actually be fun.

#1fae1 #fae!Gaz #fae!Price #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #simon ghost riley #If you feed off of misery eventually it'll start making you a little miserable #I think Price has been courting Gaz for a while #but it's the Victorian era when Gaz really gets fed up with weaving #and decides to hell with it if he's gotta work within a system it's going to be his own #lowkey feeding myself scraps of poly fae au #Ghost working as Price's guard and Gaz working as his protege #Soap's already been working as extra muscle for Price on and off #it's easy for him to come on full time when Ghost and Gaz are in the mix #Price is collecting pretty boys

[aarontaylorsjohnson]

We took our Carol trip!

December 10, 2023, my good friend Sarah and I piled in my small Kia and made the 1 hr 40 min trip from Indianapolis, IN to see Cincinnati and Chevoit, Ohio shooting locations from 2015's "Carol." It's the only winter movie that matters to me. Here are some of the key locations we visited.

Tagging: @belivet, @pacinos, @lesbin

Shillito Center and art deco exteriors in Cincinnati.

Shillito Center was a department store with art deco features including the beautiful clock pictured above. This was the exterior of Frankenberg's in the film. The Shillito's department store has closed but the beautiful building has been turned into luxury loft apartments!

The other buildings of note were the Bell Telephone Company's "Cincinnati Bell" building--my friend noticed that the decorative border on the building is comprised of a stone pattern of old rotary telephones! The exterior of the now-Hilton Cincinnati is another Carol shooting site, which doubled as New York City's Drake hotel.

This is the exquisite Hilton Cincinnati at Netherland Plaza. As you can see, the art deco influence is strong and the rooms are gorgeous and grand. We were hungry and wanted to have lunch but the only available menu was the Dickens breakfast buffet, priced at a formidable $89! So we enjoyed a drink and a bowl of peanuts at the bar. A quartet of professional singers in Victorian costumes sang Christmas Carols beautifully in the background. The bartender was dressed like they used to dress, in a beautiful tailored slacks, shirt, and vest uniform. He did not work at the Hilton in 2014-2015 but was delighted by our quest. The entryway to the hotel is known as the "Hall of Mirrors," inspired by Versailles.

This is the stone bathroom structure at Eden Park, which was the setting for the Christmas tree farm impromptu photography session. My friend watched Carol to prepare (she called it "fun homework") and I prepared by finding a tam o shanter hat at a thrift store. My parents had the scarf, blonde fur coat, faux fur hat, as part of their repository of items from doing over 25 years of community theater together. The rest of my clothing items are a regular part of my wardrobe. I vacillate between eras but I love 40s, 50s, and 60s best of all. I also think it's likely they filmed the scene of Therese and Richard on bicycle going through a park at Eden Park as well, but can't be totally sure.

Finally, Maury's Tiny Cove Restaurant in Chevoit, Cincinnati is the setting of the first lunch between Carol and Therese. The booth they used for shooting has been preserved and I reserved it ahead of time, although surrounding booths also have pictures from filming hanging over them. It's been long enough that the server didn't know much about the film but told us that a group of excited college students ate there once and requested the same meal Carol and Therese ordered in the movie. I had lasagna as we had not eaten much all day, and a Santa Cosmopolitan from their holiday menu. The food was wonderful and it was obvious a lot of people are regulars. We noted that there are glass windows over the booths now, unlike in the movie, probably added during the height of Covid.

Bonus, but a disappointment:

Carol & Rindy's beautiful house at Grandin Rd has been completely re-done and now looks nothing like in the movie:

And, "that's that"! A truly special and memorable experience.

Here is a link to a Google Drive with all of the unedited photos and videos we took if you want to see anything in original quality/detail. We shot video of the photography scene but it was mostly goofy and unusable haha.

We talked about the movie some and Sarah asked me which character was the best fit for my personality. Hands down, Abby. I was wide-eyed Therese once, never glam enough for Carol, but Abby will tell you the truth and not blush from it. My hero!

#caroledit #carol 2015 #cate blanchett #rooney mara #todd haynes #period drama #historical costuming

[vintagelasvegas]

“City of Las Vegas” Aerotrain arriving in Las Vegas on its inaugural run from Los Angeles, December 16, 1956

“The newly designed Aerotrain will arrive at Union Depot at 3:40 p.m. and will be greeted by city and county officials, the Rhythmettes and the high spirited Jaycees in a typical Las Vegas welcome ... The daily shuttle service of the streamlined train is the result of two and a half years planning by Union Pacific executives, representatives of the resort hotels, and the chamber of commerce” - New Vegas Train Due, Review-Journal, 12/16/56

“It was popular with riders, partly because it offered a free buffet meal and bar service. The Aerotrain, among other inconveniences, was underpowered and required a GP7 helper locomotive over Cajon Pass. Union Pacific gave up its lease on the Aerotrain and replaced it with a conventional train in Sep. ‘57” - Union Pacific City of Las Vegas Aerotrain, Trainweb.com

Photo: Junior League of Las Vegas Collection (PH-00097), UNLV Special Collections

#Union Pacific Station

[jerzwriter]

A Different Fate... Part 4 - Glass Door

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (past)

Featuring: Tobias Carrick, Sienna Trinh

Rating: Teen

Words: 2.4 k

Category: Short-Series/AU/Lost Love

Summary: Ethan's in New York, and he's got backup... but when he fails to heed their advice and follow his own path, what will the results be?

A/N: I said the next installment would be the last, didn't I? Well, I lied. lol But the next one TRULY is. I went in a different direction and decided to torture them a little longer. 😏 @choiceschallenge-may2023 | ex-lover, love @choicesflashfics Prompt in bold Series Masterlist Ethan/Kaycee Masterlist Full Masterlist

“Well, look at you,” Tobias smirked as he sauntered toward the bar. “What brings you to New York City, young man?”

Ethan gazed wearily at his friend, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“There’s nothing young about me,” he muttered. “And I think you know the answer to that question.”

Tobias shook his head as he claimed the barstool beside Ethan.

“I’d chastise you for being rude, but I’m sure you’re nervous, so I’ll give you a break this time, Tobias grinned. “Wow, I’ve been trying to talk you into this for years, but just one conversation with Sienna, and you’re booking a flight! Hats off to her… I’m duly impressed.”

“As you should be,” a small but powerful voice belted.

Tobias spun around, astonished to find the diminutive doctor walking toward them. “And what brings you here?” he teased.

“Him,” Sienna pointed to Ethan as she hopped on the last vacant stool. “Do you think I was about to leave him to his own devices after all this time?”

“Smart move,” Tobias agreed. “I’m sure he’d mess it up in less than ten minutes.”

“Thank you!” Ethan groused. “I feel so much better knowing how much faith the two of you have in me.”

“OK, then tell us your plan,” Sienna insisted, keeping Ethan’s gaze as he looked like a deer that had stepped into the headlights.

“Well… I uhm. I thought I’d… uh… In the morning, I could….”

“Exactly,” Sienna chirped.

“I could send her flowers!” He blurted.

“After all this time… I don’t think overwhelming her is the way to go. My advice? Be upfront and lowkey. Send her a text; let her know you’re in town and you’d love to see her. Offer to take her for coffee or lunch.”

“Alone?” Ethan asked.

“Is this really a conversation you want to have in front of me and Tobias?”

“Point taken.”  Ethan sighed, his forlorn expression adding years to his appearance.

“She mentioned a place,” Tobias said, snapping his fingers as he tried to recall the name. “The Perfect Pint! She said that she loved that place over dinner tonight. Take her there!”

“Over dinner tonight?” Ethan seethed. “You took her to dinner?”

“Relax, Romeo,” Tobias barked. “I’m not putting moves on your Juliet. Kaycee happens to be my old friend, too, and… I’ve missed her.”

“Yeah…” Ethan muttered, voice full of defeat. “Nowhere near as much as I have.”

“And we’re here to change that,” Sienna redirected. Dr. Ramsey was not bringing the mood down on her watch. She shot a look at Tobias. “Now, do you see why I came?”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I never had any doubt.”

~~~~~

The following morning, as Kaycee was on a subway platform heading to work, Ethan and Tobias stood over the breakfast buffet at their hotel. Tobias smiled approvingly when Ethan scooped up the remaining bacon in the chafing dish. 

“Eating crispy, delicious processed meats… I’m impressed!”

“Everything is fine in moderation,” Ethan clapped back. “Besides, this place is known for its bacon, and I don’t intend to miss out.”  

“That’s the attitude. Speaking of not missing out… I assume you’ve texted Kaycee?”

“No,” Ethan sighed as Sienna approached. “I haven’t.”

“Good morning, guys!” She chirped. “It’s such a beautiful day!”

“It could be,” Tobias snickered.

“Oh no!” Sienna grimaced. “They’re out of bacon. I heard it is to die for here.”

“I’m sure they’ll bring more out momentarily,” Ethan offered. 

But Tobias had a better idea. “Hey!” Ethan hollered as he plucked the bacon off his plate and placed it on Sienna’s. “What are you doing!?”

“You can have bacon when you text Kaycee. Until then, no treats for you! We’re going all Pavlovian here.”  

Sienna’s face visibly fell. “Ethan! You haven’t texted her?”

“No,” he replied, attempting to steal a strip of bacon from Sienna’s plate, but her reflexes were quick. “If either of you would let me finish! I had another idea. Dr. Choi and I have been in communication about a case he’s working on….”

“…and Dr. Choi happens to work at Langone,” Tobias inserted.

“Exactly,” Ethan stated as the trio sat at a corner booth. “So I made an appointment to see him today, and I thought that…. What?”

Sienna shook her head with a grimace. “Ethan… are you trying to ‘accidentally’ bump into her? So she can think she’s an afterthought? That you were in town and didn’t even bother to let her know? Just when I was going to give you some of my bacon!”

“But, Sienna,” Ethan sighed, emotion heavy in his voice. “What if she said no.”

The table went silent, and Sienna quietly placed that slice of bacon on Ethan’s plate. He smiled sadly, hoping this wouldn’t be his consolation prize.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think she would.”

“But there are no guarantees… and… I don’t think I could handle that rejection again. I need to do this my way.”

“Hey, Buddy. It’s your call,” Tobias smiled. “Either way, we have your back.”

~~~~~ 

“I’m so glad you stopped in,” Dr. Choi beamed as he escorted Ethan down the hallway. “We should make it a point to do this more frequently.”

“I agree,” Ethan nodded. “Sometimes a thirty-minute conversation in person can yield better results than a dozen emails topped with a Zoom call.”

“I will always take human interaction over technology,” the elderly doctor agreed. “How about I come to Boston next time. I’ll never admit it around here, but I’m a bit of a Red Sox fan.”

“Definitely keep your voice down,” Ethan chuckled. “And it would be my pleasure to bring you to a game. Say, Dr. Choi… is Dr. MacClennan’s office on this floor?”

“It used to be, but she’s on the eighth floor now. Take this elevator and make two rights when you exit. That will get you to the nurses’ station, and they can direct you from there.”

“Thank you,” Ethan smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”

His heart was racing as the elevator doors shut. Before allowing himself time to think, he pressed eight and hoped for the best.

~~~~~ 

The eighth-floor nurses' station was especially quiet this morning. All heads turned in Kaycee’s direction when she placed a tray of cookies on the counter with a smile. A young nurse – who had forgotten to eat breakfast – perked up at once.

“Oh! What are these for?” She beamed.

“For going over and beyond with Mrs. Mitchell yesterday. I really appreciate all the hard work everyone put in.”

“It was a pleasure,” the nurse replied, with her mouth full. “And if I knew we’d get these....”

“My best friend makes them,” Kaycee smiled. “She ships me a box at least every few months, and this time, you all deserve them more than me.”  

Kaycee noticed a change in the nurse's expression.

“What? Don’t you like them?” Kaycee asked.

“No, they’re wonderful. It’s just…” the nurse leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Dr. Douglas is heading this way.”

“Ugh…” Kaycee shuddered. “Thanks for the heads up.”

But the warning came moments too late. As she went to take a step away, her escape was thwarted.

“Dr. MacClennan!” The dark-haired doctor with a smarmy smile shouted. “Fancy running into you here!”

“Is it?” She shrugged. “Considering we’re standing just feet from my office, I don’t think it should be all that surprising.”

“I guess you’re right,” he chuckled. “But what was surprising was seeing you at Gabriel’s last night!”

“At Gabriel's? I don’t recall seeing you there.”

“Well, you appeared engrossed, so I didn’t dare interrupt. The gentleman you were with… he looked familiar…”

“Well, any educated physician should know who Dr. Carrick is.”

“Ah, that’s who it was! I didn’t realize you two were so… well acquainted. Is he a friend?”

“Yes! A very dear, old friend…” she stalled as an idea popped into her mind. “Well, at least for now.”

“Oh?” Dr. Douglas asked with a raised brow.

“Did you ever see someone you were once close with after a long time had passed, and everything is just… so clear? That was me last night. I’m sure you saw the sparks flying between us… it had to be impossible to miss. Sometimes it just takes a bit of time and distance from someone to realize that you’ve wasted far too much time… that you were meant to be so much more… and you’d do anything to make it right.”

“And… that’s how you feel about Dr. Carrick?” he grumbled.

“Very much so,” Kaycee sang, with the brightest smile adorning her face. 

“Well then, I assume I’ll see the two of you at Dr. Rivera’s farewell reception tomorrow night. Being he’s in town and all….”

“Yes,” she swallowed. “I’m sure you will. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Her face was aglow as she made her way to her office. She had been searching for a way to get Dr. Douglas off her back for longer than she cared to admit… and this might be what she needed. She grabbed her phone and began texting Tobias – so engrossed with her plan that she failed to see him.

A solitary, crestfallen figure who had walked in at the worst possible moment stood slackjawed in a dark, shadow-filled corner. Ethan looked around to ensure he hadn’t been seen, then quickly turned to return down the hallway.

He stepped into the elevator with a heavy heart. Perhaps Sienna’s idea was better all along. After all, if she had ignored him or rejected him via text, it would have been better. If he had followed her lead, he wouldn’t have seen her radiant smile again; he wouldn’t have been reminded how it could light up any room.   He wouldn’t have felt the butterflies in his stomach or the way his heart fluttered at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he experienced it, but it was like greeting an old friend, warm and inviting, until it was replaced. He hadn’t experienced it in so long that he welcomed it like an old friend…then it was gone.

The elevator doors closed, and it may as well have been that night in Boston years before. He choked back a sob as his heart sank and a pit formed in his stomach. Eight years. It took him eight years to travel the two-hundred miles needed to bridge the distance between them, and in the end, it would be for naught.

He didn’t remember the three-city block walk to St. Vartan’s Park. Everything was a blur. The first thing he remembered was his back hitting the hard, weathered wood on the park bench. The sound of honking horns mingled with birds chirping and children playing soccer nearby… the sounds of the city began to pull him out of his fugue.

Tobias? He hissed.

Not for a second did he believe his friend was making a play for his former flame… the woman he was destined to love forever, but if Kaycee had feelings for Tobias, returned or not, then she couldn't possibly have any left for him.

He berated himself for allowing hope back into his heart. Eight years and a half dozen failed attempts of trying with someone new between them; he had kept tabs on her, so he knew she had tried to move on, too. She had gotten married, for Christ’s sake… and, no, it didn’t last. But why had he allowed himself to believe part of her had not never forgotten him.

His head was pounding, and he needed two things: his hotel room and a bottle of Scotch. It may not diminish the pain, but at least it would take off the edge. He took a deep breath and stood up, eager to get through the unfamiliar city to reach the solitude he desperately needed… then his phone rang.

Tobias.

He knew in his heart that his friend had nothing to do with this, but he still had no desire to speak to him. It wasn’t his fault that Kaycee was pining for him… but he sure as hell didn’t want to talk to the man who held her heart. He declined the call. But it rang again. And again. Finally, in a near fit, he answered.

“What?!”

“Hey,” Tobias replied, blissfully unaware of his friend’s state. “Are you still at Langone?”

“No. I’ve left.”

“Did… did you see her?”

“I did… but she didn’t see me, and we’re going to keep it that way. Tobias… I’m a goddamn fool. It was all a pipe dream, a foolish, foolish pipe dream. Kaycee’s moved on, and if I have any sense, that’s what I’ll do, too.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Well,” Ethan laughed sardonically. “She appears to have feelings for someone else. In fact… that dinner last night may have been a bit too romantic, intentional or not, because the person she has feelings for… is you. I don’t know, Tobias. Maybe there’s another universe where we’d have the happy ending I always wanted. But it isn’t in this one.”

The call went silent, and it lingered for an uncomfortable length of time. Frustrated with the lack of response, Ethan blurt out.

“Hello?!”

“Ethan, you are a freaking idiot. Get back there now!”

“Why? I heard her myself.”

“What you heard was her getting some douchey doctor off her back. He was one of those creeps who wouldn’t take no for an answer from her, but he’d take it from a fake boyfriend hundreds of miles away. She texted me to ask me to play along…"

Ethan stopped in his tracks. He hadn't had a chance to touch that Scotch he was longing for; still, he felt hungover.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Look!” Tobias insisted. “She’s getting out soon. Get back there now! You’re not going back to Boston without talking to her. Maybe you two can work things out, and maybe you can’t, but how many more years do you want to live with that question mark hanging over your head?”

“You know what, you’re right.”

“I usually am… now go.”

Ethan hung up the phone and ran back, pushing through crowds to return to the hospital. He was about to enter the glass doors when he heard it. The chaos and noise of the city were no match for it; he’d know her voice anywhere. His head flung in its direction, but all he could see was a tuft of blonde hair slipping into an awaiting cab.

“Kaycee,” he yelled, running toward the vehicle. “Kaycee! Wait!”

But the cab was already in motion, and, for once, there was no traffic on the city street. He watched in silence as the taillights of the car that held the one thing his heart desired most faded into the distance.

Tags in reblog.

#choices fanfic #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #tobias carrick #sienna trinh #open heart choices #choices open heart #open heart #playchoices fanfic