#denim cal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hier--soir · 1 year

Text

under the night | one

summary: joel miller is a grump, but he likes to think old dogs can be taught new tricks pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ only, minors dni] language, nightmares, discussions of sex, slow-ish burn, age gap [20ish years], grumpy!joel, potential jealousy word count: 7.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a/n: first time i've posted any of my own stuff in ages, but i've been loving writing for joel so thought i'd share!

Wyoming was a state you had never visited before the outbreak, so it was strange that 22 years on, it had become your home. It was Summer when you and Cal arrived in Jackson, and six months on, you could feel Winter’s grip steadily descending upon the town. The area seemed to be cloudy year-round, but the way the air had begun to chill as of late was something you’d not quite experienced before. Cold as it was, living there was quiet, and peaceful.

The settlement was led by a strong woman named Maria, and her husband Tommy, who had welcomed you and Cal with a wary kindness. Offered you safety, and a place to live, in exchange for hard work and your dedication to supporting the community. After so many years travelling the barren, infected country alone, the pair of you were awkward, and fumbled your way through meeting so many new people.

Jackson wasn’t the first place you’d tried to settle down in. Over the span of a decade, you’d crossed the country what felt like twice over, relying solely on each other, but never quite feeling like anywhere was home except for when you were alone together. This place proved you wrong though – the people proved you wrong. They were self-sufficient here, a working community, where everyone was equal, and the leaders were kind, and trustworthy; two characteristics that you and Cal hadn’t encountered in other people in a long time.

The home Maria and Tommy provided you was modest, and a fixer-upper if you had ever seen one. God, the day they’d arrived, you’d let out an exhausted laugh when Tommy pulled on the knob of the front door, and it cracked off its hinges.

“Nothing a good screw won’t fix,” Cal had chuckled, wanting to appear optimistic in front of Tommy.

Regardless of the state of the place, you and Cal made it your home in quick work. Cal made friends quickly, the way he always had. He was tall and gangly; all long limbs and sandy blonde hair, and he had a crooked toothed smile that endeared people to him almost instantly. You, on the other hand, were blunt, your body lean and strong as a result of years of physical exertion, and you were always the more stubborn of the two. You were a perfect dichotomy beside each other; sweet and salty. Stony, and withdrawn, you had always used your closest friend as a crutch during rare social interactions. You were familiar with all of the violence, and pain that came with the world, and as you grew up, had become so delightfully unsure when it came to being shown warmth.

Maria took you under her wing, introducing you to the people at the stables you would be working alongside, and encouraging you to find solace in the group of warriors that made up the women of Jackson. For the most part, people were kind and welcoming. With time, they didn’t pause and stare when you walked along the street, unsure of the newcomers.

People shared stories about others who had come through Jackson before you and Cal, and about the histories of those who still lived there. Sometimes, as you sat on the porch of the house, you’d watch people walk by, share a polite wave, and try to pin the stories to the faces you were seeing.

“I met Tommy’s brother today,” Cal started one evening. “Bit of a prick.”

Your eyebrow raised slightly, amused that someone could piss off one of the more jovial people you’d ever known. “What’s wrong with him, was he wearing double denim?”

Cal lifted his bowl of soup to his mouth and slurped down the last few drops. Wiping his mouth messily, he shook his head. “I don’t know about that guy. Remember Tommy told us about him?” You did remember Tommy vaguely mentioning that his brother had arrived on the settlement a year or so before you and Cal arrived.

“He keeps to himself for the most part,” Tommy had jested, his eyes glazing over for a moment as he thought of his brother. “But he’s a goodin, does good work for this town.”

“Whatever,” Cal changed his tune. “I shouldn’t let it bother me, he was just rude is all. Called me newbie twice, even though he knows my name. Seems to like being a big dog around here.”

You hummed to show you were still listening, tearing off a piece of bread and stuffing it in your mouth. “Seems only fair that if Tommy is kind, his brother would’ve turned out an ass. Isn’t that how we work?” He snorted out a laugh, and that was the last you spoke of it.

It wasn’t for another week or so until you met the man yourself. It’d been a long day spent at the stables, basking in the beating sun while working alongside a few others. The horses were huge creatures, and it took you a while to get used to their nature. It’d been so long since an animal hadn’t been a threat to you, but a few weeks on, and you’d found yourself ending the workdays by taking a ride around on your favourite mare Dot.

You and Cal’s home was on the opposite side of town, and on your walk through you passed faces that had become familiar. You small talked and smiled until your jaw ached, and by the time you bumped into him, you’d already reached your pleasantry quota for the day.

He had a bag of vegetables hung over his shoulder in a linen sack, and was making quiet conversation with his brother, when you walked by.

Tommy called out your name, waving you over to them. Your feet and shoulders ached, but you slapped a half smile on your face as you sidled up to the pair. “I’d been hoping to catch you, Maria’s wondering when you’re free for dinner this week.”

“Oh, whenever she wants me,” you nodded, chest warming in an odd way at the invitation. Your gaze flitted curiously to the tall man standing beside Tommy. You’d seem him around before, many times actually, but never realised he was the infamous brother.

Oftentimes, you’d noticed him because, 7 times out of 10, the same young girl would be plodding along beside him, chattering away incessantly. You had assumed they were a father and daughter on those occasions, but now understanding this was Joel, you knew better. Cal had explained it to you when he found out, about how Tommy’s brother had a kid living with him, but it wasn’t his. The idea of it didn’t seem too strange to you, considering most of the people living in Jackson were found families, not blood.

He was tall, taller than Tommy, with a more wrinkled and tanned face. Dark hair with streaks of grey, and a short beard. Obviously. the older brother. Thicker than Tommy too, the invasive thought flashed through your mind, as your eyes glanced over his arms.

Ignorant to your curious eyeballing, Joel jerked his head in your direction, and asked, “The other newbie?” He had a distinctly husky Texan drawl, and his voice was deep, as if he spoke from the very depths of his stomach.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, and introduced the two of you with a smile. “She’s doing some great work for us round the stables, the horses have taken a good liking to her already.”

You shared a polite nod and held out your hand for greeting. Joel barely met your eyes, before gripping your hand once. One firm shake, before dropping it like it stung him. You thought you noticed him even wipe his hand off on his jeans. Rude motherfucker.

He didn’t say anymore, and seemed to just wait for you to go so he could continue his conversation from before you showed up.

“Well,” you said. “I’ll get out of your hair boys. Be good.” A short laugh fell from Tommy’s mouth, and you thought you caught a surprised expression on Joel’s face as you turned and continued walking in the direction of home.

You crossed paths a few more times that Summer, but always briefly. He constantly had somewhere to be, or a job he was on his way to completing – never without an excuse to cut a conversation with you short. You didn’t particularly mind his disinterest in small talk. In fact, you found it somewhat refreshing after a few interactions with him. Finally, one other person in this town who wasn’t friendly, or willing to fake interest in you just because you were new in town.

One day you and Cal went on a ride along with Tommy as he patrolled the area surrounding the settlement. Nothing serious, just him showing you both around the area, telling you about what abnormalities he kept an eye out for when he went out of the safety of the gates.

The trio had been out for an hour or so before a rustle in the woods a hundred metres back caught their attention. Your hackles rose, and you reached for the gun strapped to your hip instinctively, prepared to see an infected emerge from the brush. But Joel Miller rode up to your group quickly, a deep scowl settling on his face when he spotted his brother’s company.

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked his brother.

“Maria wants you back home,” he said gruffly. “Said it’s getting late; said if you’re not back in time for dinner she’ll lock your ass out.” His gaze twitched quickly over to you and Cal, who were watching him curiously. “Why are the newbies with you?”

Joel wasn’t afraid to talk about you two as if you weren’t there, didn’t care how it came across, and you understood this was probably why some people in Jackson weren’t very fond of him.

“Just showing them the area, they oughta know what we get up to out here every day,” Tommy said amiably. “The real question is, why are you doin’ my wife’s bidding?”

He huffed in response, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Maria’s the boss,” is all he said, before gripping the reins and encouraging his horse to take off in the direction he came from. When it was just the three of you again, you felt your shoulders sag, and let out a low whistle, as if to say, jeez, lighten up.

Not a week later, Cal told you, “His face has the same thing yours has, you know.” You were sharing lunch outside the stables, when Joel had shown up to take one of the horses for a patrol.

“What the fuck does that mean?” you’d asked incredulously. He held his hands up in defence, coughing lightly around his mouthful of food.

“No, no, don’t bed mad,” he paused, laughing more. “But… c’mon, I couldn’t help but notice…”

“Notice what? Why the fuck can’t you finish your sentence.” You were impatient, and the sun was beating down on you, and Joel was only 10 metres away, saddling up.

“You both have this set of wrinkles in between your eyebrows,” he finally admitted, smirking. “I’d say it’s because you’ve both been frowning for the past twenty years straight, if I had to guess.” You relaxed the frown on your face instantly, making Cal laugh harder. A warmth rose in your face as you realised you’d attracted Joel’s attention, and he was glancing at you from across the grass.

“I don’t frown all the time,” you muttered under your breath, giving Joel a courteous nod goodbye as he rode out on the horse.

“Of course you don’t, sunshine, my mistake,” Cal had agreed sarcastically, waving a hand at Joel in farewell.

After that, whenever you saw him, your lips twitched as you noticed the wrinkle in the middle of his forehead, and you reminded yourself to relax your own. Not enough room in Jackson for two permanent frowns, you thought to yourself, and his takes the cake. ‘Grumpy’ was a good descriptor for him. On the rare occasion you saw him smile or laugh, it was when the girl was around.

You had noticed the way she’d tell him a joke and a begrudging smile would grace his face, only for him to cough, or reach up and place a hand over his mouth, to avoid anyone else taking notice. Of course, you would notice the girl grinning with glee at making her companion laugh. It was sweet. The fondness between them was palpable, and you had to fight the curiosity inside you that wondered what had brought them together.

When, at long last, you finally met Ellie, it all made sense. The girl was insufferably chatty with some precocious snark to boot, and she had an impressive attention to detail; a 5’4” spitfire with a mess of mousy brain hair. She was no bullshit, and you trusted her instantly.

“I was wondering when I’d meet the newbie I’d been hearing about,” Ellie had smirked, holding out a sweaty hand in greeting.

“Sorry it took so long, everyone wants a piece of the me these days,” you feigned a sigh, smiling when the young girl laughed.

“Do you like it here?” she asked inquisitively, and you nodded. “I’ve seen you a few times, but you always seemed busy, or were with that other guy.” “Jackson is great, me and Cal are happy to be here,” you confided. “I’ve seen you round a lot too, with your-“ you cut yourself off before the word ‘father’ came out. “With Joel.”

“Oh, you know Joel!”

“No, not really,” you clarified quickly. “He pops up here and there… what a laugh that guy is.” For a moment you were worried the joke wouldn’t land, but when a squeaky laugh pealed out of Ellie’s mouth you relaxed, and laughed with her.

“You’re telling me!” the girl barked, shaking her head.

Through those first six months in Jackson, life slowly started to make sense again for you. For the first time since the outbreak happened all of those years ago, you found yourself with a proper home, and a community of people around you who you had come to know and respect.

But even with newfound light in your life, the darkness inside of you wasn’t going away quickly. Even a friendly place like Jackson couldn’t stop the nightmares that plagued you. After spending over a decade traversing the United States with Cal, seeing death and decay and infection firsthand, you had to train yourself to focus on the good.

When you passed by a group of kids on the street, you urged yourself not to see the faces of Cal’s late brothers, whom you grew up with. Had to fight the memories of the settlement not unlike Jackson that you spent years in, only to watch it burn to the ground. Not everything ends badly, you would whisper to yourself. People can be trusted.

As insistent as you were with opening yourself up to the light, the nightmares still came fast and hard. It was the same one, most nights. The same memory. In time, Cal had begun to sleep through you crying out for help in your sleep, after learning years ago that being woken up by him sometimes scared you just as much as the dream itself. Sometimes, solitude after an awful night was the only remedy.

You woke slick with sweat, your shirt sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Heart racing, you stumbled out of bed and gulped down some water in the kitchen. Through the light fog outside, a warm orange glow lit the street, as the sun rose slowly over the town. Thank god, you thought. Early, but not too early to rise without worrying Cal. You dressed slowly, limbs heavy with fatigue, and walked numbly toward the stables. Winter had crept into Jackson like a thief, and the morning’s icy cold breath licked at your hands and face, stealing all the warmth you had to offer.

A few of the horses startled awake when you arrived, and you soothed them quietly, your voice hoarse from crying only an hour prior.

“It’s just me,” you murmured, kissing Dot’s speckled nose.

A morning ride seemed a good way to wake up all of your senses, so you set to saddling up. But only a short while after your arrival at the stables, a sound outside made you start. A flash of the nightmare shot through your brain, and your heart stuttered. Footsteps, padding softly through the grass outside, could clearly be heard. Dot’s ears pricked up, and her large head swung toward the stable doors to watch. Although you had been sure you heard someone approaching, when he stepped into view, you still let out a yell of surprise.

“Woah,” Joel held his hands out in alarm, eyes wide. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.” His arms lowered as he recognised you, warily noting your defensive stance, positioned half behind Dot with tensed fists.

You didn’t say anything immediately, breathing heavily out of your mouth, and still trying to calm your racing heart. You watched each other from across the space, and he took a few slow steps inside. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologised genuinely, in a tone gentler than you’d ever heard him use.

You ignored his apology. “What’re you doing out here so early? The sun’s hardly up.”

An eyeroll. “I could ask you the same question.”

You contemplated lying, but exhaustion wore on you heavily, and you found yourself unable to think of a fib worthy of his time. “Bad dreams,” you settled on, not caring how childish it made you sound.

He nodded slowly, looking unsurprised by your admission. After a measured pause, he offered, “I get those too, sometimes.”

Your heart, which had only just slowed down, found itself beating out of time again, although you weren’t sure why. This was the longest conversation you and Joel had ever had, and by far the most private one – if you didn’t count the horses listening in. When you didn’t answer him quickly, his hand raised to scratch awkwardly against his beard. Not for the first time, you were hit with an unwelcome thought about how handsome he was.

“You look cold,” he changed the subject quickly, and with a down turned mouth. He was wearing a thick brown jacket, which made the thin jumper you were wearing look like a sheet of paper in comparison.

“Cal’s been borrowing my good jacket these days, since it’s gotten cold.”

Joel watched you speak, and it seemed like he didn’t how to respond. His hands settled on his hips, and he mumbled something under his breath that you missed. When you prompted him to repeat it, he just said, “You spend a lot of time with Dot.” You were happy to finally shift the topic of conversation away from yourself, and agreed.

“Yeah well, Percy over there isn’t too fond of me,” you gestured behind you to a tall grey horse, who you had discovered months earlier would huff loudly and rear his head up whenever you stepped near him. In that respect, Percy reminded you somewhat of Joel when the two of you first met.

“Percy’s old, he’ll warm up to you with time,” he advised.

“I thought the saying goes that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?”

A small huff of air escaped his mouth, and if you weren’t so sleepy, you would’ve sworn it was the start of a laugh. Quietly, he said, “I’d like to think that’s not true.”

It was the next morning, after you’d awoken from another nightmare, and stepped outside to head to the stables again, that you saw it. A gift, or maybe a token of understanding.

A large black jacket, folded neatly on your doormat.

Winter kicked in like a punch in the gut, but you decided you liked the festivities that the cold weather inspired in Jackson. Suddenly every morning your windows had a delicate layer of frost over them, hiding the view of the street, making every day a new surprise, waiting for you to discover when you finally stepped outside. It didn’t rain often, but you could sense how the clouds seemed to sag, and knew that snow wouldn’t be far around the corner. You wore Joel’s jacket most days, and appreciated how the cold made your face tinge red, so that when he spotted you in it, he wouldn’t notice you were blushing.

To celebrate the changing of the season, Maria had organised a bonfire night to bring the town together. She enticed you to come along with promises of mulled wine and live music, but the truth was that you had already promised Cal you’d go along.

“She is going to be theeeere,” Cal had sung dreamily from the kitchen, a week before. You had been lounging on the chair in your living space, drowsy from an impromptu afternoon nap, and it took you a moment to understand who he was talking about.

“Luisa?”

“Luisa,” he confirmed wistfully, sipping a cup of tea as he stepped into the room. “She invited us, and you have to come along, you know. I can’t go without my wingman.”

“If she invited you, you probably don’t need a wingman,” you laughed, but agreed to go nonetheless. It was sweet watching Cal talk about Luisa over the past few weeks, and watching his crush develop more every day that they spent time together. Not for a long time had either of you been romantically involved with someone, and it made your heart sing for him. Of course, you would go. For Cal, you’d probably go anywhere.

Jackson was a hub of excitement when the day finally rolled around. During your shift at the stables, the women you worked with chatted keenly about wanting to dance to live music, and it caused a bubble of excitement to form in your own chest. It had been so long since you’d seen a musical instrument, let alone seen someone play one with any skill. On your walk home, people were toting around decorations, headed towards a big open dirt field, where you knew a set up effort had already begun. You passed Joel’s place halfway through town and smiled upon spotting him on his porch, rugged up and chatting away with Tommy and Ellie.

Since that morning in the barn, you and Joel had settled into a sort of comfortable ease with one another. There was less rigidity when you spoke; less apprehension when it came to sharing things about yourselves, and your days. Being around him became a source of calm, rather than tension. You never sought him out for conversation, but you found yourself quietly elated when he appeared on one of your aimless walks, or passed by the stables unexpectedly and chatted to you while you worked.

The more you came to learn about him in those quiet moments, the more you appreciated him. You felt that you had formed a kind of mutual understanding between you; that you wanted the same things. A shared desire to enjoy this quiet life that neither of you felt you deserved, but were both lucky enough to have fall into your laps. It was true that you hadn’t made friends there the way Cal had – people gravitated towards his energy naturally. But with Joel, you felt understood.

“Well don’t you lot look cosy,” you called from the street, and were met with a round of friendly waves. “What’s on the menu?” you pointed at the mugs they all gripped, eyeing the hot steam that rose out of them.

“Just a second.” Joel disappeared inside for a few minutes, before returning with a cup of coffee for you. You leaned against the banister and sipped at the hot liquid greedily, nodding in appreciation.

“How are you doing?” Tommy asked you genuinely. You liked the sweet crow’s feet that appeared next to his eyes when he smiled. You chatted absently about work and patrols, and how one of the families in town were expecting a new baby in a few months, before finally the topic of the bonfire came up.

“Oh, you’re coming right?” Ellie pondered eagerly, sitting up in her chair.

“Only if you’ll be there, kid.” Her face lit up at this, grinning smugly at Joel and Tommy. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you, but held your gaze steadfast on Ellie. It felt like your skin burned a little when he was looking at you – you could always sense his stare.

“And Cal too?” Ellie asked. She always asked you about Cal, and you’d just come to understand that she liked to be in the loop about most things. She held that teenage curiosity to know about everyone, and all their comings and goings.

“Yes,” you smirked conspiratorially. “He mentioned wanting to see Luisa.” The younger girl raised her eyebrows suggestively, garnering a chuckle from even Tommy.

“Can you believe,” Ellie suddenly chuckled out, sticking out a hand and placing it on Joel’s shoulder. “That Joel thought you and Cal were married or something?”

As you and Tommy laughed, you thought you noticed Joel gently kick his boot against Ellie’s shin, as if to say, shut the hell up kid. He didn’t quite meet your eye when you looked at him, and appeared somewhat embarrassed as he turned to glare at Ellie.

“Well, he wouldn’t be the first to think that,” you conceded. “With the amount of years we’ve known each other, we might as well be married at this point.”

Joel looked at you properly then, his curiosity getting the better of him. Tommy asked the question that seemed to be on his lips.

“Remind me how many years you’ve been together? I can’t remember what you told me all those months ago.”

“We’ve known each other for something like two or three decades.”

Ellie let out a low whistle, eyes wide just thinking about that many years. She was so young, and you felt a quick pang in your heart to remember it.

You drained the last of your coffee, and placed the mug softly into Joel’s outstretched hand before stepping off the porch. “Speaking of the old ball and chain, I’d better get home to make sure he hasn’t burned the place down in my absence.”

“See you tonight,” Joel shared a half smile, and you nodded, before turning and heading in the direction of home. As you walked, you listened to their conversation start back up again. “Oh kiddo, I almost forgot. Tommy told me this joke yesterday that reminded me of you. You’re gonna love this…” And then you were too far gone to hear the rest.

After giving Cal advice on which shirt to wear, the pair of you made your way toward the field where the party was being held. He was adamant you had to arrive casually late, so that he didn’t seem too eager. You went along with his ideas amiably, happy to please him. And although you didn’t tell Cal, you could admit to yourself that you weren’t going just for his benefit anymore – there were other people looking forward to seeing you. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would get to spend any time talking to Joel, and your heart squeezed in a way you chose to ignore.

The sun had set hours ago, and the party was in full swing when you arrived at the gathering. Flames blazed high into the air from two huge bonfires, crackling loudly and lighting the wide-open space with a warm orange glow. Small twinkling lights had been strung up through the surrounding trees, providing more light. A small group of musicians stood off to the side, playing soft folk music that flowed beautifully into your ears.

Busy marvelling at your beautiful surroundings, you were shocked back to reality by Cal thrusting a warm mug into your hands.

“Liquid courage,” he winked, taking a swig. You stared at the deep red steaming liquid in your own cup, and sipped it tentatively. Soft notes of cinnamon and star anise hit your tongue, mixing with the tart red wine, and you hummed happily. “Oh, there she is!”

Cal bid you a quick farewell and wandered across the field to sit beside Luisa on a thick log. You watched as the pair embraced, but averted your eyes quickly when Luisa leaned in and pressed a kiss against Cal’s cheek. He would tell you these things in his own time, and deserved his privacy. Allowing your eyes to flicker over the rest of the crowd. It seemed everyone in Jackson was there. Families talking and laughing, couples and friends swaying together near the band. A feeling of intense loneliness hit you in a sudden wave, but as quick as it came it was gone, as you spotted Joel sitting alone, staring into the fire.

Before you could convince yourself not to, you found your legs meandering in his direction, as if out of your own control. You half hoped someone would stop you for a conversation along the way, but everyone was distracted, and you seemed to blend into the crowd without drawing much attention. Ellie could be seen watching the band play with some other people around her age and hadn’t noticed your arrival. In less than a minute, your black boots were stopping a metre behind where Joel sat.

He wasn’t aware of your presence yet, leaving you with a moment to take him in. Although you couldn’t see his face yet, you admired his broad strong back, and thought absently that either all his clothes were too tight, or he must’ve been built like a brick house underneath them.

Unsure of yourself, and feeling awkward in your own skin, you hesitated for a moment too long. A quiet crack sounded as you adjusted your footing, and crunched onto a wayward twig, making Joel’s head tick ever so slightly to the side.

“Hey there,” you rushed, not wanting to spook him, and he turned fully to see you. He looked handsome, wearing his normal brown jacket, and holding his own mug of ruby red liquid courage. The corner of his mouth quirked up and those earthy brown eyes took her in quickly, flicking from her head to her feet, and back up again in an instant.

“You gonna sit down or just stand there all night?” You were torn abruptly from your reverie when he spoke, and you hoped that the darkness hid your blush. Stepping over the log he was on, you sat down beside him heavily, holding out your free hand to feel the warmth of the bonfire. You were close. Not enough to touch, but enough that the sleeves of you jackets brushed ever so slightly when one of you moved your arm.

“You havin’ a good time?” you enquired quietly, realising that from this vantage point, you could actually see Cal and Luisa, on the other side of the fire.

“Better now, I’ll admit.” You turned her head to look at him, surprised by his forthrightness, and he held your gaze evenly, still doing that half smile that put you at ease. “The people in this town are so friendly, but you run out of things to talk about after knowing them all for a year and a half.”

“Well lucky for us,” you suggested. “I’ve only been here 7 months. We haven’t exhausted all avenues of conversation yet, have we Joel?”

From behind the rim of his mug he chuckled quietly, his eyes shining with the fire’s reflection. “I’d say we haven’t, no.” Considering his height and broad stature, he always held himself in a naturally authoritative manor. But sitting there beside him, you enjoyed seeing him look so relaxed, lounging comfortably, with a few drinks in his system. It was a version of him that you hadn’t met before, and you liked it.

“How is he?” Joel asked, nodding in Cal’s direction. You looked over to see him and Luisa chatting together, their foreheads knocking together as they leaned into one another. You smiled.

“He’s good. Fitting in like no one’s business,” you snorted, shaking your head in a sort of wonderment. “Doesn’t surprise me though. People always liked Cal, everywhere we went.”

“And they didn’t like you?” His tone was disbelieving. A prickling heat tickled across your face, and you knew he was staring.

“Not that they didn’t like me, I’m just…” you trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. “More of an acquired taste, I suppose.”

“An acquired taste.” He repeated gruffly, and made a scoffing noise from deep in his throat.

“Ah, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Well, even then, I suppose the saying goes... about acquired tastes getting better with age… or something like that.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and relished in seeing his large frame shaking with silent laughter.

“We can agree to disagree on this one, but I’m happy to let you chop together sayings to fit your idea of not being likable.”

You stared at him a little longer, enjoying the tight-lipped smile on his face. Gaze locked onto his mouth, your brain suddenly filled with ideas about his lips, and what they would feel like. He was so rough, so brawny, but you liked to imagine they’d be soft, like he was now that you had gotten to know him more. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and your eyes drifted up, to find he’d caught you staring. Joel exhaled heavily and reached up to scratch at the little scar on the bridge of his nose. You wondered how he’d gotten it.

You’d noticed plenty of scars along his arms, during the warmer months in Jackson. It seemed he had a long history of violence that you knew nothing about, but you certainly wasn’t surprised by it. Even as you grew closer to him, and to Ellie, nothing was ever revealed about how they came together, or what led them to Jackson. It almost made you want to keep your own history private, until he shared more with you. But then he smiled at you, and your heart did that skipping a beat thing it was always doing these days around him, and your defences would lower again.

Across the fire, your attention was caught by the sound of Luisa laughing loudly at something Cal whispered to her. You and Joel watched them silently for a moment, both entranced by the giggling couple across the field.

Joel raked a hand through his hair and cleared his throat quietly. “You and Cal…”

“Me and Cal what?” you prompted.

“You two, did anything ever…” he seemed to hesitate; his eyes boring into the dirt in front of you while he struggled to articulate himself. It was bizarre to see such a strong man seem so unsure. “You never… anything more than friendship?”

A beat of silence. you wondered how much to tell him. Certain memories of you and Cal ran through your mind and you shivered a little. It had been a long few years since you’d thought about that time in your lives.

“It’s complicated,” you spoke slowly, not wanting to lie to Joel. “We were alone for so long. Sometimes there would be other people with us while we travelled around, or when we lived in other settlements, but…”

“But they were temporary?”

“Temporary,” you nodded. The band were playing an upbeat song, and you were momentarily distracted by the contrast between the group of people lively dancing a few metres away, and you and Joel sitting there talking in hushed tones.

“They would get themselves killed, or infected, or…” you paused, feeling your eyebrow twitch at the thought of some of you and Cal’s past acquaintances. Of one in particular, whom you was still plagued with visions of while asleep.

Embers from the fire were floating through the foggy air, and you inhaled a deep breathe, watching as they disappeared into the night sky. Little pieces of crackling sparks, shooting up and evaporating. The smoke from the fire burned your eyes and throat. Don’t think about it.

“Or…” he pressed. He might as well have poked you with a stick to bring your attention back to the conversation; his curiosity rolling off him in waves. Joel with a few drinks in him proved far nosier than sober Joel.

Your gaze stayed on the sky. “Or prove themselves untrustworthy.”

Joel was smart enough to read between the lines, and not push any further on the matter. You observed fondly that when you were speaking to him, Joel angled his head ever so slightly to have his left ear closer to you. Upon noticing, you remembered it was true that whenever he’d approached you in the past few weeks, he’d position himself on your right side. You figured the hearing on his right side was a little shoddy.

For a few moments you just sat and watched the people around you. Some of the families started to leave, herding little ones away from the band, and in the direction of town.

“So?” Joel prompted, with a deep wrinkle in his forehead that let you know he wasn’t happy about having to ask again.

“You really want to know?”

You couldn’t read the expression on his face. He fiddled with the mug in his hands and nodded once. You didn’t like the way he’d gone from relaxed and boozy, back to his regular grouchy countenance.

Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in acquiescence.

“We’d been friends for twenty years before it, and we’ve been friends for a decade after it. It happened twice, or… or maybe three times. It gets a bit hazy in my memory. We figured we knew each other so well, and after so many years alone, it had started to seem like there would never be anyone else to…” you trailed off, uncertain of how much to reveal. Joel waited.

“As much as we wished it was more it just wasn’t. It never could be.” It was impossible not to picture those times, as you talked about them. Your stomach rolled remembering the way you and Cal had stood awkwardly together, skimming stones over a lake you’d stumbled across, agreeing to never do it again. It was one of the worst moments of your friendship; both fearing you were about to break your only friend’s heart. “We love each other but… there’s a barrier there, in our heads. All the memories of us as kids, of playing soccer on the weekend with him and his brothers, of watching each other grow up and become the people we were going to be…” You rubbed the itchy corner of your eye with grimy fingers, taking a breath. Joel’s eyes flicked over to see Cal and Luisa standing up, and the pair began walking away from the bonfire hand in hand.

“When we fucked, the first time, it was just a tension release, I suppose.”

Joel flinched beside you, his shoulders tenser than they had been a moment before. A twinge of regret tickled in your chest, for using such matter-of-fact language. You weren’t trying to push him away, but it felt sneaky if you were to lie about your past with Cal. There was no denying what had happened; not if you wanted Joel to know you, truly. It was a part of your story, and neither of you could afford to be ashamed of it.

“And after that, we tried again but it just… didn’t work. We couldn’t be together that way, as much as we longed for the connection. He may as well be my brother. Thankfully, the sibling sentiment was mutual.”

You turned to watch Joel’s face. His stoic expression was hard to read, but the wrinkles around his mouth were made prominent by how he clenched his jaw, and you could sense an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions clearly rolling under his skin. Yet he stayed silent, brooding. Jealous? You shook the invasive thought off. No.

“I don’t say it lightly, that I would die for Cal,” you said quietly, your voice as firm and wary as the day you arrived in Jackson, eyes glancing away for a moment to watch Cal’s back as he disappeared out of the field. “Him being here, happy and safe… it’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.”

Silence swelled around you, heavy with the weight of all that you had revealed. Goosebumps rippled over your skin as the band started to play a song you recognised. One from before outbreak day, that your mother used to sing to you on the settlement, in those early years after everything changed. If Joel noticed your demeanour shift, you didn’t care, letting your eyes fall closed as you gently sang along to the opening of the old song.

Oh, Kentucky, I miss you

Your night sky, black and tired

But wild like a live wire

The horse is never leaving the pond on its own

You got to open the gate and let it loose to run

Faster than the clouds on a windblown dawn Faster than you left me alone to long

You trailed off slowly and reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. An image of your mother’s face flashed through your memory, but you shoved it down, unsure if it was even an accurate idea of what she had looked like. After a decade and a half without her, you couldn’t be sure your memories were trustworthy.

“And what do you want now?” Joel finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “Now that he’s happy, and safe. What do you want?”

“For myself?” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I haven’t let myself want anything in a long time now. There’s no use; nothing good comes from it.”

Your cheeks were warm and red, and little bits of ash were dotted through your hair. Joel’s mug had been abandoned to the ground, and his fingers fiddled together in his lap, the way they always did when he was trying his best to actively listen. He was present, and this way his way of showing it. No messing around, no object or weapon in his hands to put a barrier between himself and another person. Just his hands, scratching and tracing each other, to calm himself. It made your heart beat out of time for a second, whenever you noticed him doing it. Until one of his hands lifted and held in the air for a second, and then he reached over to place it gently on your knee. Your heart stuttered as he gave it a gentle squeeze, and left it to rest there.

“I felt the same way for a long time. Thought there was no use in hoping, or wanting anything good, or feeling like I deserved to be happy.”

“And now?” you asked, staring down at his large hand on you. You wished you had the confidence to reach down and take it in your own. “Do you still feel like that?”

His thumb made one slow stroking movement along your knee, making the skin underneath your jeans tingle sharply.

“Jackson changed things. Ellie… Ellie changed things. And…” He paused, and his forehead finally relaxed. You pursed your chapped lips and didn’t look away from him, urging him to continue. “Jackson continues to change things.” Is all he said.

And it’s all he needed to. You understood.

Take me to the track, I want to lose all my cash

This beating in my chest is all I need to stash

And why shouldn’t I?

Cause when I’m alone

We’re still looking at the same moon

Under the night

Are we two people never getting together?

I will follow your roads

As wide as the air, as wild as a storm.

part two

#joel miller #tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfiction #ellie williams #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #my writing #under the night

816 notes · View notes

xoxo-susu · 4 months

Text

The ultimate guide to being coquette as a hijabi girlie

Being a coquette hijabi is so hard because so many of the key motifs (mini skirts/more revealing clothing, the literal meaning of the word, for example) go against what we believe in. But it's not impossible. So here are my personal favorite ways to be a coquette girlie without compromising my faith! (p.s thank you to @augusttheicedcoffeeaddict for reminding me to post this hehe ily)

Also!!! No hate to the coquette girlies who do wear mini skirts etc.

The white maxi skirt 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

Mini skirts are a staple in so many coquette outfits and so many people will try to make you think maxi skirts aren't cute but they're just haters. A cute sweater + a pleated or tiered white maxi skirt + some crafty layering has been such a lifesaving formula for me. Blouses work great for this too. And the things you can put on top of a white maxi skirt are endless. Pretty blouses, mini dresses, sweaters, sweatshirts, even cute tshirts with long sleeved shirts underneath. Same goes for denim skirts. I'm looking for one right now and I can't find any I like, but once I do I'll be unstoppable.

Bowssss 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

Bows. Bows are THE coquette accessory. And, thank god, you don't have to wear a mini skirt to wear bows!

Put them on literally everything. If you want to put them on your hijab, you can use a safety pin to put it on the back of your head, or you could do what I usually do, which is put them in my hijab pins. Depending on the size you can make it as subtle as you want. I have a pinterest tutorial here. (The pic on the left is me!)

Heart shaped sunglasses 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

Another coquette/vintage americana staple you can wear!

Berets 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

Same thing!

Fuzzy white earmuffs 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

These are SOSOSO perfect for winter. (pic on the left is me again heh)

At home 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

So far, this has all been stuff just in the context of going out in public. At home, I highly recommend doing you hair in a coquette way and wearing things you can only have on in front of family. It's such a confidence booster. It's a bit of effort but it's so so worth it!

Her bedroom is the window into the girl's soul 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

The coquette aesthetic is way more than just the clothes and hair. So if you really want to feel coquette, try and make your room as coquette as possible. Put up some coquette posters on your wall. A lot of coquette posters are haramcore and some people don't like putting up faces on their wall, so here are some really cute pics for inspo :3

What's in your bag? 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

Purses can make or break a good outfit. My biggest tip is to match them to your hijab. It pulls it all together. The last thing you want is for your hijab to feel like it's clashing with the rest of the outfit.

What's inside is important too! Inner beauty isn't just for living things. Keep whatever essentials you already have, plus lipgloss, a compact mirror bc no one's out here trying to have a bad hijab day, and a little bit of ribbon. Trust me about the ribbon.

Shoes!!! 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

Please don't wear a super cute coquette outfit and then wear tennis shoes. Just don't. Mary janes, Doc M's, and ballet flats are all really good choices.

Ik I probably sound like I'm obsessing over tiny things, but you kinda have to bc when you're breaking the mold every little thing matters.

Lastly <3 🦢˚✧𓂃🩰 ໒꒱ ⋆ ˚ ⊹

Last but not least, do not ever ever let people make fun of you. If you're a hijabi coquette girlie, you probably have some form of a muslim community, and they probably won't dress in your style. That was my case, and when I first started wearing mary janes and lace gloves I got SO made fun of. Not from the adults, but from my friends. One girl called my mary janes dorky and said they annoyed her every time she saw them. I think she expected me to laugh, but you just have to keep a straight face and say to their face that you thought that was rude. She never called me dorky again 🤷‍♀️

Take this post as a reminder that you can stay true to your faith while looking fabulous. If you have any questions pls pls feel free to ask anything. Ily all honeys, bye ♡

68 notes · View notes

thebibutterflyao3 · 2 months

Text

Day 6 Prompt: Heat @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 995 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Barty shook his head clear and refocused on the mostly empty road ahead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t busy in the off-season. Not many were foolish enough to travel to the coast in the winter, especially in a car without heat.

The sun mocked him through a cloudless sky, bouncing absurdly cheerful light off of the hood and directly into his eyes. He fumbled for the sunglasses tucked into his visor and shoved them on his face. Relaxing a bit, he leaned back and grabbed his phone. Barty rolled the scratched-up silver case on its edge over and over on his thigh. When the screen woke up mid-spin, he glanced at it hopefully.

No notifications. Of course.

By the time he reached the signs for the Prince of Wales bridge, Barty was seriously considering a detour into the river. If he wasn’t already regretting his life choices, and there weren’t a massive green metal barrier, the decision would be so easy.

Best not to start trusting myself now.

Barty inhaled deeply as he stared at the cables rising to the outline of an enormous letter “h” that straddled M4’s six lanes. Bridges fucked with his head, especially long ones running over water like this. Movie scenes of bridges cracking open like a fresh, crisp baguette toyed with his mind.

Breathe. Just breathe.

The moment his front tires passed the shoreline to England’s soil, Barty deflated. He was one hour in and already drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. Any clarity this road trip brought him earlier was lost to him now. He just wanted to crash onto his crappy sofa and stay there. Not moving for a week sounded so bloody good, but he was expected at work tomorrow.

When the opening bars of Never Let You Go drifted through his speakers, Barty tensed again. The chorus of this one hit a little too close to home.

Suddenly, his screen lit up as his mobile buzzed against his denim-covered thigh. Evan’s face appeared on his screen and Barty jerked the wheel as he screeched to a halt on the shoulder and narrowly avoided scraping the barrier. He fumbled with his phone as his stomach lurched violently.

“Rosie?”

The other end was silent except for the steady tap tap tap of Evan’s rings against the phone he was holding. Barty knew that sound intimately, but not the tempo. Evan was agitated.

His heart beat doubled and his chest clenched in panic. This wasn’t good. He didn’t know how it could get worse, but it was about to and the dread was overwhelming.

Shite shite shite!

“Before you hang up…I’m sor-sorry I didn’t tell you about Regulus. When I realised that you were friends, I shou-should have.”

Barty’s ears thrummed with his own rapid heart beat as he strained to listen for a response. After another long silence, he released a ragged breath and added, “And I’m sorry for going after your sister yesterday. I was….that doesn’t matter. I’m sober now and I hate myself for acting like that.”

“That makes two of us.”

His heart plummeted to the floorboards. “Please don’t say that, Rosie. I swear—”

“Don’t call me that,” Evan said. His voice was flat and clipped.

“Oh, right.” A chill ran down Barty’s spine and he struggled to find the words he’d practised in case Evan actually answered one of his calls. “Evan, I—”

“Not that either.”

Barty closed his eyes and repressed the urge to beg for forgiveness. There was no hope of that in Evan’s tone. This was going to hurt, he could sense it. The hammer was already pulled back and the trigger was twitching.

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good, because we are nothing to each other,” Evan snapped cruelly. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Crouch, and if you come near my sister again—”

“I won’t!” Barty cried out, shaking with the effort to hold himself together. “Please, please don’t—”

The line went dead.

“No! No no no nonono!” He quickly tapped on Evan’s picture to call back. “Please pick up! Please, please, please.”

A robotic voice informed him that his call could not be completed as dialed. His hands trembled as he texted Evan, pleading with him. The text didn’t go through. Barty stared at his screen in disbelief.

“He-He’s…I can’t…oh fuck.”

His body crumpled against the steering wheel as a shudder rushed through him. He was numb from head to toe. The hole carved out of his chest deepened until it hit curled his vertebrae. No thoughts, no emotions.

Moving on instinct alone, Barty opened his car door, stumbled out of the road, and collapsed before he emptied his stomach. His limbs quivered beneath his weight until he flopped onto his back. He swiped at his mouth and groaned at the sharp burn that raced up his throat.

He rolled away from the open car door and forced himself to push upright. The endless expanse of the river where it joined the sea spread out before him. Barty stared unblinkingly at the waves as they lapped the shore, rhythmic and repetitive.

This is it. Rock-fucking-bottom.

A hollow laugh burst from his chest, but quickly died out. It hurt to laugh. Hell, it hurt to breathe!

He hauled himself to his feet, then stepped unsteadily toward the edge where the tall barrier ended. With slow, measured steps, he climbed the short rail and headed down the slope toward the shore. Barty studied the muddy, frigid water as his boots sank with every step into the soft soil. The height of the bridge created a terrifying vantage of the water, but from here it looked tame.

Water was cleansing, that was a common belief. A refreshing drink for a parched throat, moisture for dry skin, and the perfect conduit for soap. Standing here before a river wide enough to swallow an entire city whole was humbling.

I would only make short-lived splash.

With a short burst of adrenaline, Barty ran forward, threw his arm back, and flung his mobile into the river. It disappeared beneath the waves without a sound. No splash, no interruption.

Inconsequential.

Next Part>>>

#evan x barty #barty x evan #rosekiller #rosekiller microfic #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty jr #evan rosier #slytherin skittles #marauders era

24 notes · View notes

inafieldofdaisies · 7 months

Text

WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton

This week we're circling back to the main WIP through a snippet featuring Cal, Sabrina and her defense of John. *oof* Leslie needs a hug too, for real.

"Drop the weapon and turn around, I won't ask twice." This voice… Sabrina complied, crouching down slowly, one hand discarding her weapon on the ground while the other used the opportunity to pull out her throwing knife out of its holster. "Now turn around.", the gun poked her between her shoulder blades again, and she willed her heart to slow down, refused to let panic overtake her with her life on the line. She stood back up and spun around, in one swift move the blade was at the neck of the man holding her at gunpoint, giving her a leverage after being snuck on. "Technically, you did ask twice, you mo-", the words died in her mouth the second her eyes registered who standing in front of her. "Gray?", Calahan muttered in disbelief as he reached out, removing her cap, "It's you. You… WHAT THE HELL?" "Kid.", Sabrina withdrew her hand, shock washing over her at the realization how close she had been to injuring him and before she could react he had her enveloped in a hug, "You're okay. Thank fuck." Hartley held her at an arm length, eyes full of concern as he examined her all over to confirm his words. "I'm fine, Cal. Seriously.", she let out a relieved laugh as she sheathed her knife and bent back down to pick up her gun, "I should be the one asking if you're okay, I almost stabbed you in your carotid." "Not gonna lie, that was kind of hot.", the remark was followed by one of his usual winks.

Low whimpers behind her paired with paws scratching against metal snapped her back to reality, erasing the smile off her face, "We have to get Boomer out." One carefully aimed shot was all it took for the lock to give way, and Boomer wasted no time, rushing at her and almost knocking her to the ground the second she raised up the door of the cage. "Hey, Boom.", Sabrina crouched down and stroked him on the head, "At least you made it… for once, not everything was in vain." "I can't believe you're here. That you're actually okay. Fuck.", the way his voice shook took her aback, and she couldn't help but send a worried look over her shoulder, finding him staring at her like she would vanish if he lets her out of his sight. Eyes ran over his his denim jacket that had seen better days with a couple of faded crimson stains seeped into the light material, making her hope none the blood was his. A sniper rifle was strapped to his back, his weapon of choice he had used to take out all the Peggies around them shortly before her arrival and save her the trouble of having to face John's men. Now freed, Boomer had quieted down, standing close to her and watching the younger Deputy in anticipation, tail wagging slightly. "Who's a good boy?", he bent down, taking his turn to greet Boomer, then he turned to Sabrina, "Let's go inside, I have so many questions and so much to catch you up on." She winced, "I doubt you'd like anything I would tell you…" Calahan was the first to cross into Rae-Rae's home, his features twisting into a deep frown at the bullet holes marring the walls and doors, and the way the Peggies had wasted no time rummaging through the woman's belongings, strewing anything they hadn't deemed of use to the Project all over the place.

"Ryan?", Sabrina hollered, rushing to search each room, checking underneath the beds and any hiding spot big enough to conceal Rae-Rae's boy. Cal shook his head, "I don't think he's in here, Gray. Haven't see anyone aside from the Peggies and you. When I got to my spot, Rae-Rae was already dead." "Fuck." "Yeah, things are bad, but now that you're here, there's hope. You were always the voice of reason, keeping me in check…", he furrowed his brows, "I thought John Seed had caught you, Gray, that it's just me from all us not in the Seeds' clutches." Sabrina took a seat on the couch, while Boomer rested his head against her knee, the heartbroken look in his dark eyes making her wonder if he was aware of his beloved owner's fate. Her chest felt heavy and she dreaded having to break the news to Calahan as he paced around the living room, almost wearing a trail in Rae-Rae's carpet. "Cal, I-" "I kept hoping you'd meet up with me that goddamned morning, so many times I looked back, telling myself I would see you emerge from the shadows", his voice choked up, and he blinked rapidly before taking a deep breath, "I thought I lost you, Gray. First I feared you haven't managed to get away, then everyone kept telling me you probably died to a trigger happy Peggie… But I knew better, I felt it."

"Calahan.", Sabrina stopped him, "I didn't escape. Not really… I made it out of the helicopter, managed to crawl away with my head spinning like crazy, then John was there, looming over me with this victorious smirk like he'd finally brought a game to an end…" Something about the way she had said his name, caused Hartley to pause his pacing, "That bastard." "I tried to shoot him, Cal, but only ended up passing out at his feet." "So it was you on that road with him. I received intel about a sighting of you, with John Seed. I couldn't wrap my head around it… why you'd be there." She nodded, "I woke up in an empty cell at his bunker, kid. Ended up being escorted to a torture room-" Calahan's eyes shone with fury, "Did he lay a hand on you? First Hudson, now you, I swear, I'm doing my own version of a Cleansing the moment I see him." "Joey? What's happened to her?" He remained silent, heading for Rae-Rae's TV and turning it on as he said, "It might be better to see it with your own eyes. He's taking matters beyond what you call 'tasteless advertisement', Gray." John's face appeared on the screen, his piercing blue gaze making her shiver through the recording the same way it did in person anytime he would aim it her way. But this was another side of John, before her was the man that was the face of the Project, his act carefully crafted to lure you in, fool into false pretense of security and acceptance. Staring at him was like going for a swim in a the calmest of waters, submerging fully only to encounter the shark that was lurking beneath the surface all along. She used to naively joke about his billboards, about how bizarre his old broadcasts were. All that now felt like it was thousand years away, belonging in a simpler times.

"Even the Father knows deeply of sin. It's a poison,", the outfit he wore was the same one he had on as she sat in his horror movie worthy room, his plane jacket that she had seen in his office bearing a familiar dark stain, her blood. Somewhere along the way before their confrontation where she had figured out his identity, he had taken his time to film a new broadcast, even more chilling than any of his previous ones. He spoke of the "Power of Yes" in the same matter-of-fact, cheery tone he used in his address that was blasting outside the house. Then Joey appeared on screen and Sabrina choked back a sob at her state: the duct tape stuck on her mouth, mascara covered cheeks, fresh injuries that didn't seem to be from the crash alone. "No.", her eyes brimmed with tears like Hudson's, pain shooting through her heart as she faced the ugliness of reality. "He's been playing this on a loop all over the region. Calls me daily, taunting me about Hudson, my impending 'Cleansing' and how I'd be joining her soon so he can save my soul.", Cal muttered, fidgeting with his zippo lighter. Sabrina knew the clicks of it brought him comfort, helped him to keep his anger in check anytime it would reach a dangerous point. "I'm so sorry." "I watched that damned broadcast so many times, looking for you, hoping I've missed you in the crowd, praying I didn't because of what it would mean. I suspected he must have you after the way he stared at you in Joseph's church." "Stared at me how?", she asked in confusion, her time at the Compound feeling like a blur, as if covered in a fine layer of mist she couldn't quite push through. "Like you were his next meal.", Hartley gritted out.

"Cal." "What happened, Gray? Because I'm so lost and I need you to tell me Mary May ain't right to worry you've turned or have been playing us all along, working for Joseph." "You think we're safe in here? There's a lot to cover, kid." "As safe as we'd be in Holland Valley while John Seed is still breathing." "I just need you to remain calm and listen, okay? Promise me you will." Calahan rubbed at the stubble covering his jaw, "I will do my best. Can't promise my fist won't go through any walls, I'm barely holding it together here." As if sensing her unease, Boomer raised his head to glance at her, offering her silent support, "One of his men tied me to a chair, there was a table full of tools, hinting torture was next on the menu. I grabbed a knife, cut myself free, but the damned door was locked, Cal." Sabrina shivered as she recalled the long wait until John had finally shown up, how she had imagined any possible outcome and never making it to her sister. "I waited what felt like hours until John appeared, I was planning on killing him, I truly did. He stood between me escaping that bunker and getting back to Savannah." Calahan's eyes shifted to hers in panic, making Sabrina add, "She's okay, kid." "Thank God. I avoided your cabin, knowing the trouble it would bring to her and Ms. Darcy. Why isn't he dead, Gray?"

She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for Hartley to look at her like she's lost it after her next words. The truth sets you free, right? It certainly had with John… she was freer than most people in the Valley, it seemed. Or safer at least. "I've been having visions since I can remember, Cal. Glimpses… of the future, oftentimes I wouldn't be able to even place them or they'd be useless as seeing someone have a stupid, mundane conversation. This is the part where you tell me it's impossible? That I'm certified.", she let out a humorless laugh. Calahan shook his head as he finally sat down next to her, "You saw something at the church, didn't you? It why you hesistated to arrest the fucker. You were so damn pale." "I got a vision of the crash, how they were taking away the others. I tried to help, but-" "We didn't listen. Fuck. I'm so sorry, Gray." "I'm used to it by now. It's more surprising when people believe me.", she gave him a sad smile, "So anyway, John comes in, starts talking about how much he knows about me, how I'd confess all my secrets to him. Turns out telling him he won't be getting shit from me is the wrong thing to say, he lost it and got all up in my face, and all I could picture was slashing his throat, leaving him to bleed out. But then I saw his tattoos…" Hartley had grown restless the more she spoke, flicking his lighter open and closed at an alarming rate, the sound echoing as her words died down. Sabrina reached out, stopping the haunted movement, palm covering his hand.

"Throughout the years, I've seen a lot of things, there was something that remained a constant, a man, I could never quite see his face, Cal, but his tattoos are practically embedded in my mind by now." "No way. Those ugly ass scribbles he has going on?" Sabrina nodded, "It was his tattoos I was seeing all this time and it stopped me, made me doubt if I'd succeed at killing him, if it won't make things worse for me." Calahan had a strange look on his face, "Why?" "Because none of the visions involving him had taken place yet, which meant he would live." "This is… Jesus.", he shoved his free hand in his jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lit one quickly, taking a deep pull before muttering, "Forgive me, Rae-Rae." "I know. He asked me what I've seen at the church, suspecting something had happened. I came up with a plan… to use his curiosity, his hubris to my advantage. I needed to 'confess'." "Gray, that shit means nothing, those damned broadcasts about confessing your sins, confessing doesn't get you-" "Not my 'sins', kid, but about my ability, that I could be of use to him. I couldn't try to be a hero, I had to get back to my sister alive. And it worked… eventually he brought me to his office, and we made a deal for him to bring me to Savannah in exchange of knowledge." "You joined them?", Calahan's voice was cold, distant. "I didn't join anything. I offered him my notebooks where I kept notes of my past visions, he could have them all for all I cared. He met Savannah and I-I managed to convince him to not bring us back to that hellhole. She's at his ranch right now, I sneaked out because I saw a vision of Rae-Rae, hoped I'd be able to warn her.", tears were threatening to escape, to spill out like her words had, "But I was too late."

"This is insane. A deal?", he pushed off the couch, returning to pacing, concern mixing with his anger as he swiveled to face her, "How can you trust him? He fucking had you tied to a chair!" Sabrina bit her lip, "I know how it sounds, trust me. But it's the only choice I had and still have." "We can get her, Gray. Right fucking now. Have Savannah in Fall's End before John knows what hit him." "And then hide or constantly be on the run with him pissed off because I've broken our deal and fled?" His blue eyes darkened as he took another drag of his cigarette, "I told you I'd kill him, now feels like the perfect time. Bet it would be hard for him seek revenge when he's dead." The thought of the man she had looked for all these years getting killed by another that had become like family to her threatened to split her heart in two, "He's just one head of the snake, Joseph is the one pulling all the strings." The edge to his words chilled her to the bone, "I will see how old Joe likes it when I personally deliver his brother's corpse at his church's doors, no hiding behind a warrant or upholding the peace this time around. I'm torching the whole place to the ground, like they did with the Sheriff's. What I should have done long time ago, really." Something darker, haunting, filled with regret lurked behind his last remark. "No."

Sabrina got up too, trying to keep panic out of her voice, knowing it won't do her any good in her attempt to make him see reason, to stop him from rushing headfirst into his own demise and taking someone she cared for down with him. "You can't kill him." His laugh was void of any humor, "Can't? Or you don't want me to? Because take one look outside and what Joseph turned us all into - killers." "We can use him, make him see.", she steeled her gaze, "He's not too far gone." Or at least she hoped it was true, holding onto every moment they had shared that told her as much. "The guy that ties people to chairs in his bunker and carves sins into them ain't too far gone?", Calahan seemed less than convinced as he searched for something he could put his cigarette out on, finally dropping it into a half-empty cup of coffee. The same one Rae-Rae probably hadn't gotten the chance to finish when John's men had stormed her property, set on seeing their mission through. Carving? What the fuck are you doing, John? She avoided asking what he meant by it, sensing a landmine in hiding. "He's not-" "He's not what?", there was a disbelief in his tone when he cut her off. "I know it makes no difference, but he's not tying people up himself." "Great, so he's entitled on top of being a violent psycho. Must be all that money… fucking attorneys."

"Cal.", Sabrina pinched the bridge of her nose, watching him open and close Rae-Rae's cabinets on another hunt for God knew what, "Can you please just sit down, you're making me jittery as hell." "There you are.", he exlaimed as he pulled out a liquor bottle out of one of the cupboards, downing a drink before pouring himself another and walking back to the couch with the glass clutched in his hand like a lifeline, "Don't look at me like that. It ain't early for a drink now. And even if it was… I'd say the circumstances excuse it." "I'm not-,", she shook her head, "I'm worried about you, kid. Have you eaten-" Calahan walked over and pulled her into his embrace with his free hand, the scent of smoke wrapping around her like his arm did, "You're something else, you now that? You're basically a hostage and worrying about me eating." He pulled back, offering her a small smile, "Back to the 'John can be redeemed' argument now that I've gotten my dose of liquor courage. And look, I haven't even punched anything yet." She lowered herself back onto the couch, gaze focuse on Rae-Rae's backyard through one of the living room windows when Hartley took his previous seat next to her. "He hasn't 'carved' anything into me." A groan ripped free from his chest, "Yet." "There's a different side to him, one I'm willing to fight for." "You mean different than that?", Calahan pointed at the now muted TV playing John's broadcast on a neverending loop. "Yeah."

"In what way?", curiosity shone in his blue eyes. "He helped me make breakfast. He was worried about me when I got hurt and kept us out of that bunker." Hartley whistled, making Boomer's ears perk up as he remained curled up by the couch, "Romantic. Leslie can also make breakfast, you know? And better yet, he's not part of a cult." Sabrina blinked at the sudden mention of her ex-partner, the squeak of the front door as it swung open, making both of them jump from their sitting position and point their guns at whoever had decided to try sneaking up on them. "Cal, you in here?" It was as if time stood still where she stared at the man that filled up the entryway of Rae-Rae's house. Where she told herself what she was witnessing was impossible. Then one simple word sprung her into action. "Rina?" Sabrina was rounding the couch the second her nickname rolled off his lips, and Leslie set off towards her too, meeting her halfway. An arm snaked around her waist, the other holding a shotgun while her hands clutched at his leather jacket. "What are you doing here?", the question was met with his laughter, and she couldn't help but blink back another wave of tears that wanted to escape. "What do you think?", she pulled out of his embrace, her eyes meeting his, "I came to see you."

A fake cough sounded behind them, "Just reminding you two I'm here in case a make-out session ensues…" Sabrina spun on her heel, "Why didn't you tell me, kid?" "You found her.", Leslie chimed in at the same time. "Sure, I will take the credit.", Calahan raised his glass and took a generous sip, "Now, sit down, chief. Gray was in the middle of telling me all about John Seed's 'sweet side'." Parish complied, perching himself on one of the armrests of the couch while she stared at the two of them, shock coursing through her system. "John? Sweet?", he frowned as he patted the empty space next to him, and Sabrina shuffled over reluctantly, "Why were you two talking about that fucker?" Calahan left his glass at the coffee table that was moved away from her usual spot by the couch and lit up another cigarette, "Well, well, well, fuck me, if things ain't about to get interesting. The next couple of minutes consisted of her catching Leslie up on the attempted escape, her short stay at the bunker and finally coming clean about her visions. "So this is how you knew Kim will be having a baby girl?", Parish asked as he accepted the drink Hartley had poured for him, "Why didn't you tell me, Rina?" "I was afraid…", she muttered slowly, gaze glued to the intricate pattern on the carpet below her feet, "that you would look at me differently or worse, not believe me at all."

His hand came to rest on top of hers, "You know me better than that." "I do." "And John… is the 'mystery man'? You two haven't met before you moved here." She nodded and offered him a sad smile. "You're certain it's him?" "I am." Leslie rubbed at his lip, a telltale sign he was deep in thought, whispering a quiet, "Fuck." Calahan was sitting down on the floor a few feet away from them, cross legged, stroking Boomer's head as the canine snuggled against his knee, "Speaking of Johnny… how are your breakfast making skills, chief?" Sabrina's eyes widened, "Don't start." A wicked grin was pointed her way, hinting at his intentions, "Can't do. Tell me, Gray, have you noticed perhaps that Leslie here looks like a certain someone?" It was Leslie's turn to send him a look of warning, "Cal. I do not." "He practically can be John's double, unfortunate fate considering the current state of the County." She crossed her arms over her chest, "Les looks nothing like John." The words won a grateful smile from Parish, "Thank you, Rina." "Tell that to all the folks I had to stop from killing him,", Calahan paused, "you're welcome by the way." Her face twisted in concern, "People have been threatening you?" "It's fine. Nothing I can't handle." "Wouldn't call it fine.", Calahan argued, "But my point is… you have a perfect John candidate, Sabrina, sitting right next to you."

Parish finally brought the glass he'd been holding up to his lips, "We're not going there." "Absolutely not going there.", Sabrina repeated for good measure. "You sure?", Hartley cocked his head to the side, "He's also taller than good old Johnny, has a voice that doesn't grate my ears, especially when he says 'Deputy'." She rolled her eyes, "I happen to like his voice, thank you very much." The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to slap a hand over it, especially with how his lips twisted into a devilish smirk, "You sure about that? Check back with me when it turns out he chants 'Yes' over and over when he comes…", his voice pitched in an attempt to mimic John's, something she wished to unhear, "'Yes, Deputy. I'm so close. YES. YES. YES.'" By then Leslie's glass was empty, and she was tempted to pour herself a drink as well, "Cal." "What? You two think he doesn't? I'd go as far as to bet on it. Bastard sure loves the word." "I really don't want to visualize my best friend in bed with another man." Sabrina hitched her thumb towards him, "Exactly." Calahan chuckled darkly, "Though luck, chief. Your best friend has been seeing it for years." "Calahan!" "Look at me,", he pointed at his eyes, "and tell me you haven't, not once, seen a vision of Johnny in a compromising position. The noisy part of me wants to know, you know… but then when I think more about it, I feel like puking."

"I haven't.", she retorted quickly, cheeks heating up at the lie. "Liar." "Drop it, Calahan." "The more you deny it, the less I believe it's all innocent, Gray. How R-rated did it get, though?" All he got as reply was silence. "Fucking ew. That bad?", his first covered his mouth, before he muttered to himself, "Johnny must have some hidden moves." "Calahan." Leslie cleared his throat, running a hand over his face in exasperation, "Can we change the subject?" "Sure.", Calahan said with a nonchalant shrug, "I can just circle to it later. Now that I have you here, Leslie, maybe you could get it through her skull that she can't be staying with him at his ranch. Deal of protection and spicy visions be damned." "Where have you been staying, kid?", Sabrina uttered out. He scrunched his nose, "Mary May's couch, turns out my cabin has an cult infestation problem, thankfully Zorro held the fort until I arrived. Haven't slept that well with people getting snatched and killed left and right…" "Exactly. I can't risk Savannah's life. You know how they say, 'Better the devil I know, that the one I don't'? John's that. A safer alternative than the unknown." "How safe of an option is he really, Rina?"

Calahan chimed in, pulling out his lighter again, watching the small flame dancing before he extinguished it, "I just can't imagine you and Savannah under the same roof with that bastard." "He's actually different around her. It's kind of scary how easy he switches roles. From this,", she gestured to the TV, "to a man that carries me to bed because he refuses to let me sleep outside. 'Can't let a bear eat me.', he said." "Have you though even for a second he might be playing you. Trying to lure you in, so you join the fucking cult." "I won't. And I don't think he is…" Hartley rolled his eyes, sending a pleading look towards Leslie who remained awfully quiet, "For fuck's sake. Help me over here, Parish." "He hasn't told Joseph about me, Calahan. He's keeping it a secret, keeping my visions a secret." "Or he's lying, and they're both laughing at how trusting you are." "No." "How can you be sure?", he scoffed, "The bastard is a master manipulator, a sleazy lawyer that stole half the County's land for the goddamned Project and had Whitehorse shaking in his boots, and you… are next on his to-do list. Literally too, I guess." "That was something Joseph put him up to. Me… if he really knew about my visions, I'd be dead by now. Even John couldn't deny it." "Good old Joseph, oh, how he'd lose his mind if he learns 'God' has been showing visions of his brother fornicating to someone else, he'd probably die from the shock before I have the chance to kill him.", he narrowed his eyes, a look of disgust passing over his features again. "Can you please stop talking about me and him in that way?" Leslie spoke up for the first time in forever, "Dito."

"Sorry, Gray. But I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact you like the guy… with his weird fashion sense, questionable siblings and, I don't know, the giant knock-off of the Hollywood sign he had them Peggies built for him." "You're forgetting the billboards." "Thanks, chief. Billboard, broadcasts,", Calahan blew the flame of his lighter, watching it come to life again, "posters of his face all around his bunker, I'm being told by trusted sources. That true?" "Yeah. I saw a couple." His eyes lit up all of sudden, "Oakley bet me $50 a while back that he has a sex room in the ranch." "Are you for real?" "As serious as me promising I'd be setting his 'YES' sign on fire and taking selfies underneath it, perfect lighting and all that. So, does he?" "As far as I know… no?" "Not a definitive answer then?" Leslie got up without a word and walked out into the backyard, the two watching him as sat onto the picnic table there with his back to them. Calahan released a laugh, "I think he had enough of me." "You think?" "Now it's just us…", he lowered his voice, "Those visions… was Johnny that good, promise I won't tell a soul?" "Focus." "Yes or no?"

Tagging, @poisonedtruth @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @madparadoxum @purplehairsecretlair @aceghosts @shegetsburned @jillvalentinesday @nightbloodbix @wrathfulrook @florbelles @corvosattano @voidika @theelderhazelnut @chazz-anova @clicheantagonist @cassietrn @stacispratt @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @eclecticwildflowers @dumbassdep and anyone that would like to share a wip ❤️

27 notes · View notes

whatavery · 1 month

Text

Camp Colvin (Comm.)

Here's a little comm. I wrote for @akilleanchameleon featuring his OC Cole and Calvin (AKA Freckle) going on a little camping trip. I had fun with this one, I thought it was a very cute idea! Hope y'all enjoy it!

-----

As the car came to a halt off the side of the dirt road, the shifting of the tires kicked up a small cloud of dust. Once the car finally came to a complete standstill, Cole turned to smile at the ginger tabby by his side. “Well… here we are. Last chance to back out now, Cals.”

Calvin had his hands together in his lap, having been mostly quiet for the duration of the car ride. The orange tabby’s yellow eyes met Cole's, before he cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t head back if you paid me.”

Grinning Cole gently patted the other cat’s shoulder, before he opened the left-side door and got out. Once the two of them stood outside, Cole cast a glance around. Sweeping hills surrounded them, the grass out here coming up to their knees. A path ahead led up to a forested area, many of the trees with their lush canopies situated on higher elevation up on the hills. The sky was darkening noticeably, but the sun didn’t seem like it was going to fully set for another hour at least.

It was so quiet out here, so far from the noise of the city; the familiar sound of footsteps on sidewalks, of cars rolling along the cobbled roads, people talking. It was so peaceful out here…

Cole was lightly clad, given the warm summer weather that didn’t seem like it was going to change anytime soon; over his button up shirt, he wore a thin, brown jacket, alongside a pair of blue denim pants and a pair of hiking boots. Calvin had likewise taken to wearing a pair of brown pants and a dark gray sweatshirt – attire that would keep him warm as it would soon get dark, but not too warm. He also wore a pair of large, sturdy-looking boots that dug into the dusty ground as the two made their way to the backseat of the car. Inside, they each pulled out a large rucksack and put it on. The two of them had been planning this particular trip for a while now, and finally time had allowed for it. They planned on staying out here together for a few days.

“Alright, you ready? Sure you don’t want me to carry that for you?” Cole asked as he closed the car door, offering the shorter cat a smile.

“Oh, yeah… It’s fine, I can handle it,” the smaller cat replied, face mostly neutral as Cole locked down the car. Cole nodded and smiled pleasantly. He knew not to underestimate Calvin; he may look like a small, unassuming fella, but Calvin had surprised Cole before in several ways. He was stronger than he looked, and not just physically.

When they first met, Cole had thought Calvin had initially seemed like the kind of man who might break down from being spoken to in a harsh tone. Cole had later come to realize that this was how others may initially see his lover, but he knew that Calvin was special. Small, often quiet and reserved, and polite to boot, Calvin had caught Cole's notice quickly. What they had now was… certainly unorthodox, they both knew that, but they were both perfectly happy.

When the calico offered a hand to Calvin, the smaller cat took it, grasping it firmly, as if his life depended on it. That was one of the traits Cole liked; even if Calvin might not often use his words, his actions were often times more telling of what he thought, what he felt. Cole gave his hand a squeeze and walked with him.

Leaving the black vehicle behind, the two walked along the path together, tall grass on their sides. They'd packed plenty of things for camping and Cole had most certainly made sure they had more than enough food. He'd most certainly brought everything necessary to cook as well, even if it wouldn't be quite as elaborate and fine as the food he'd normally have made Calvin, had they been somewhere with a kitchen.

Climbing the gently sloping hill, Cole glanced sideways at Calvin. Even without him saying a word, he could tell Calvin had a lot on his mind. “So, what did you tell your ma then?”

The calico’s tone was gentle, and yet Calvin gave a slight start. Their eyes met, but Calvin averted his gaze quickly. Cole had learned that Calvin often did that – not out of disinterest or rudeness, but just a natural habit he had.

“Oh… I- uh… I just told her I was going camping – that’s all,” Calvin responded, his grip on the taller cat’s hand still as firm as ever. “With a friend…”

When Cole chuckled, Calvin's rounded ears laying back in a somewhat embarrassed display. Cole gave his hand a squeeze. He of course knew why he’d told her that specifically. Nina McMurray was many things, as far as Cole knew. He knew she was a woman of faith, and he knew she would likely have a cow over her son seeing another man in the way he did. At least if what Cole had heard about her was to be believed.

Cole hadn't yet met her, mainly because neither of them was quite sure how to go about such an introduction. This wasn't a normal case of bringing a significant other home to meet one’s parents, after all. Looking sideways, Cole couldn’t help but smile, remembering how guilty Calvin had felt about his feelings. Making Calvin come around to see that they were just a couple like any other had taken time, but all Cole wanted was to make the tabby happy.

Once the two made it to their designated campsite, the sky had already gotten considerably darker. Soon, bats could be seen flying overhead and already fireflies were coming out, hovering around the woods like floating Christmas lights. It was a small clearing near a large lake, the dark water still, safe for when the occasional summer breeze created ripples on the surface

“Cole?” Calvin gave his hand another squeeze to get his attention. Instead of saying another word, Calvin shifted his hand till their fingers were interlocked, their palms firmly pressed together. Taken by surprise, Cole blushed quite a bit, but being initially flustered didn’t stop him from grinning like an idiot.

Once they came to the center of the clearing, they did need to let go of each other’s hands, however, in order to remove their backpacks. Each was stuffed full of everything they’d brought. Cole had barely put his rucksack down before a pair of short, yet surprisingly firm arms locked themselves around him in a bear hug, pinning his own arms to his sides.

“Calvin…” Cole chuckled, going red in the face under his tri-colored fur. The hug didn’t last forever, but they both savored it, before they set about being at least a little productive as it got darker. Setting up a campfire was easy enough; there was plenty of wood around they could use to fuel the flames. Cole couldn’t help but smile once the fire took hold and illuminated the area; Calvin appeared to positively glow, given his orange fur – at times he almost looked like he may have caught on fire, though Cole hoped he wouldn't have to throw him into the nearby lake. With the trees around them, the last of the daylight was mostly blocked out, but above the clearing they could still see the darkening sky taking on a more purplish hue.

Setting up a tent in the darker lighting conditions wasn't ideal, but the two of them made do – if there was one thing Calvin could do, it was hammering and he made sure the pegs that held the ropes in place weren't going anywhere. The tent was an old one, which had clearly seen its share of wear and tear over the years, a testament to how strong it was. It seemed like it would still keep out water if it started raining.

Though dinner wasn't the grandest of feasts, it was still nice to just sit with Calvin, roasting bread, sausages and even cooking beans over the fire. The scent of food also added to the coziness. Though he'd initially seated himself opposite to Cole, Calvin eventually moved to sit beside him, the two of them sharing a log for a natural seating arrangement. They had dug it slightly into the ground, so it wouldn't be wobbly.

Calvin rested his fuzzy head on Cole's left shoulder, while they each enjoyed their little campfire dinner in mostly silence. Occasionally, Cole would break the silence, telling Calvin about this and that. He knew Calvin didn’t enjoy talking about his own work, but Cole didn’t mind talking about his. It was how things worked for them and Cole wouldn’t want it any other way.

Though dinner wasn't the most exciting, once they’d eaten, Cole took to trying to entertain Calvin the best he could. Stories and songs with funny words seemed to do it. Cole wasn't sure if it was his singing or the words that made Calvin chuckle, but regardless he wasn't going to complain. Calvin's laugh was small and soft, but it was one of Cole's favorite sounds in the world.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Cole exclaimed as he put more wood into the fire, stirring up the embers as he did. “I discovered something new we could try.”

“Uh… And what’s that?” Calvin wondered aloud, sounding nervous, but Cole knew he would enjoy it. From his own rucksack, he produced a couple of things; chocolate, marshmallows and graham crackers. Calvin eyed the ingredients curiously, before looking up into Cole's eyes, which seemed to gleam in the firelight.

“Just watch,” Cole said excitedly. Of course, roasting marshmallows on a thick, sharpened stick was nothing new, but it was what Cole did with it afterwards that he was excited for; placing the marshmallow on top of a piece of chocolate between two crackers. “It’s called Some More.”

“Some More? Some more what?” Calvin asked, though he seemed quite curious. Cole let him have the first one as he set about making another.

“Beats me! I saw it in a book, but I’ve never heard of ‘em before,” Cole said pleasant as he watched his lover sampling the treat. “How is it? Any good?”

“Yeah, I like it. It’s sweet – like you,” the smaller cat said. Though their fur hid both their blushes, the firelight made their cheeks appear a warm orange regardless. Leaning on over, Cole placed a kiss on Calvin's nose, which almost made him drop his Some More. “I… I think Cole’s a much better name than Some More, though…”

“Aw, look who’s being sweet, Cal,” Cole said, his own cheeks feeling so warm. As they sat together and enjoyed their Some Mores, they held hands as the sounds of the night’s critters sounding all around them. At this very moment in time, there was nowhere else Cole would rather be; as far as he was concerned, nothing else existed beyond the threshold that was the clearing itself; the world was reduced to their little space here, and nothing else mattered.

By the time the two of them dressed down to just their pants and undershirts, and climbed into the tent, it was completely dark out. Their bedrolls were comfortable enough, despite them not being the most ideal of surfaces to sleep on, but they were certainly better than the cold, hard ground. A flashlight helped illuminate the tent once it was closed. The fire was out, reduced to embers and so the only light in the clearing came from their tent. Laying on their backs side by side, they looked up at the roof, nocturnal insects congregating on the outside where the flashlight shone through the tent.

“This used to be my father’s,” Calvin said suddenly. Cole turned his head to look at him curiously. Calvin smiled. “He took me camping a few times, before-… He would’ve liked you, I think.”

“I'm glad. I’ll make sure to take you camping more often – and give you lots of love too,” Cole said warmly, reaching over to stroke Calvin’s cheek. Putting out the flashlight, Cole felt Calvin shifting by his side, before he pulled him close. Cole held onto the tabby protectively, listening to his breathing, feeling his heartbeat. In the dark, their lips met in a gentle, slow kiss. Out here in the dark, no one could judge them or their love. “I love you, Calvin. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, you know…”

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy fanfiction #lackadaisy oc #oc x canon #calvin mcmurray #lackadaisy freckle

8 notes · View notes