#So one of those people came up to me today. The kind where they tap you on the shoulder and go like “hey my friend has a crush on you” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alrightieaphroditie · 1 year

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sticky situations | j.m

*:·ﾟ✧ back to masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟdbf!joel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! pretty much porn w/ minimal plot, dads best friend, age gap (reader is in early 20s, joel is like late 30s/early 40s) kissing, fun with popsicles (so like ice play, in a way), brief mention of choking, titty play, pet names (lots of ‘baby’ and ‘honey’) dirty talk, praise, slight humiliation if you squint, smidge of mutual masturbation, bossy!joel, unprotected p in v (please wrap it before you tap it), slight breeding kink, probably poorly written smut… i think that’s it :)) an *:·ﾟi lowkey told myself i’d never write a dad’s best friend joel miller story and yet here i am. this literally came to me in a fever dream, and i promise i am still working on my screwed series, but i could not stop writing this. mostly unedited (my bad) but i feel hella proud with this one, so i really hope you all enjoy!! stay safe if your celebrating the fourth today!

synopsis *:·ﾟbeing in a secret relationship with your dad's best friend isn't for the weak. while getting some popsicles from the garage, said boyfriend - joel miller - corners you during the firework show after you spent the day teasing him.

the scorching texas sun was high in the sky, and the sounds of children squealing carried loudly over the radio playing. the miller’s (moreso tommy, even though he didn’t technically live there) had been kind enough to open their pool to the neighborhood for the fourth of july holiday, and on a day like today, you weren’t surprised that their backyard was crammed full of people.

given that your father was joel miller’s best friend, you had already had plans to come utilize his pool, but now you could barely float like you planned with how many children were swimming in it. sarah’s soccer team had come over after practice as well, and it was to the point where even walking in the backyard was like walking through a landmine; you were consciously trying not to bump into anyone or step on a foot (or a child.)

your father had planted himself at the grill with the host himself, the two of them talking about god knows what. every now and then you’d catch joel’s eyes, and he’d take in the bikini top you wore, the sage green color complementing your skin.

you had told your father that you had bought it at the mall last weekend, but the truth was that joel had bought it for you, along with the skimpiest bottoms he could find. those you were wearing too, but you had them concealed by a pair of jean shorts. with the way he was eyeing right now, and the way you were subsequently eyeing him back, you were surprised that no one around you had picked up on the fact that you two were together.

it had been a few months, pretty much ever since you came home to your dad’s from school for the summer. he had moved into this neighborhood after your parents divorce, and when he told you back in january that he had the most amazing neighbor, you were happy for him. flash forward to your visit during spring break and it was joel miller this and joel miller that in your house. not that you really minded, you thought the contractor next door was very handsome, even if he was almost twenty years older than you.

your dad had introduced the two of you during your spring break, with joel being an absolute gentleman, and for a little bit that was all you had. but then your dad was pulled away for work, and even though you were fully an adult, he wanted someone to be there for you if needed. he gave you joel’s phone number, along with the promise that joel would do anything to help you, and that started the snowball effect to the beginning of your relationship.

you hardly used the number while you were home, but for some reason you found yourself staring at it one night alone when you were back in your apartment. joel hadn’t given you any hint, any indicator that he even liked you as a person. you mean, sure, he was kind and always polite to you when your dad had him over for dinners. but you noticed he always purposefully put some type of distance between you, and it just didn’t sit right with you.

so, slightly drunk and alone, you sent him the first text message. a simple, hey, it’s y/n from next door, and then, because you were in a mood and wanted attention: sorry to bother you so late, but my dad told me to text you if i ever needed anything. immediately after you wished you could’ve deleted it, and a few minutes had passed before you decided to put your phone down for the rest of the night. just as you placed it on the table next to your bed, you felt it buzz. think he meant that for when you’re next door, but what can i do for ya?

and that was that. you and joel texted throughout the night, and then all morning, and all afternoon, and all the next night. this continued for weeks, until you graduated to having nightly phone calls, and then facetime calls (you had to have joel ask sarah how to use facetime to begin with, but you thought that was cute) and for the rest of the semester, joel became your closest friend, and your biggest crush. and when you came home for the summer, you officially started dating joel miller. well… it was official between the two of you.

you never imagined falling for your dad’s best friend, and yet, here you were, in his backyard, wearing the bathing suit he had bought you, wishing you could at least hold his hand in front of everyone.

you saw his brown eyes dart in your direction as you moved near the grill, your ears picking up their conversation about the most recent football game. you watched as his pinky finger on the hand by his side extended ever so slightly, and as you walked passed, you brushed your pinky against his. the warmth the feeling gave you made you grin, and you slipped through his open back door, looking for sarah to help you and tommy set up the fireworks display in the street.

the rest of the evening went by in a blur - there were hotdogs and burgers eaten, smores were made with the small bonfire tommy had started, the music volume continued to increase with every passing hour. by the time the sky was pitch black with only a smattering of stars, everyone was full, content, and ready to sit on the sidewalks and lawns to watch the display happening at the end of the cul-de-sac.

you sat near sarah and some of her friends from soccer, listening to them gossip about what was going on in their highschool, but your focus was on joel. your eyes followed every movement of his, watching him pick up the boxes you had hauled out there and rearrange them. the gray t-shirt he was wearing was tighter around his arms, and you watched as the material strained against his biceps, his worn blue jeans curving to the muscles in his thighs.

the sun had gone down hours ago, but your cheeks were burning like it was still noon.

it finally came time for them to start the first round, and everyone chatted excitedly as they watched tommy set up the firework. you watched as joel tossed his brother a lighter, and before you knew it, sparks were flying across the pavement, and both brothers were running from it laughing. everyone’s head tilted back as they followed the spark, and seconds later a ground shaking boom exploded, the sky becoming colored in blue sparks. the children cheered, the adults laughed, and the dogs went crazy barking.

you watched a couple more rounds, grinning as kids began chasing each other with sparklers and laughing when tommy burned his finger slightly on a rouge firework. pushing up on your feet, you wiped your pants for straw pieces of grass while you turned to sarah. “hey, i’m gonna go grab a popsicle, do you want one, hun?” the girls eyes met yours and she nodded her head while still talking to her friend.

you made your way into the garage where you knew joel kept a deep freezer full of goodies on sarah’s behalf. you grabbed the first one you saw, a red cherry popsicle, and opened it while you searched the freezer for sarah’s favorite. you were so preoccupied that you didn’t make out the sound of the door to the garage click shut under the noise of the fireworks, didn’t realize that you were no longer alone until you shifted up and rough, callused hands spread across your exposed middle.

“joel,” you gasped, turning around in his grip with a laugh. his brown eyes were lit with amusement, but they darkened slightly as they roamed down your chest, down your hips where the strings of the bikini bottoms were peaking out. his hands slid down your sides, resting on the waistband of your shorts as he tucked his fingers through the belt loops.

“y’just had to wear this damn bikini, didn’t you?” his voice was rough, grumpy almost, but that was joel’s typical voice, so you just laughed in response. behind you, the freezer door fell shut, and joel took the opportunity to lift you up so that you were sitting on top. the cold surface made you shiver, but it was joel stepping between your legs, pressing his hips against yours harshly that gave you goosebumps.

“well, a nice older man did buy it for me, so i felt compelled.” you teased, moving one of your arms to rest against his shoulder while you licked along your popsicle, the treat already melting in the heat building up in the garage. joel’s eyes zeroed in on the movement, and you couldn’t help but grin as you repeated the motion, sucking the popsicle further in your mouth than probably necessary, watching as his brown eyes practically blended in with his pupils.

“god, you’re trouble,” joel managed to get out before his lips slanted over yours. you moaned into the kiss, consciously holding your popsicle to the side so it didn’t get all over the two of you. your other hand moved to the back of his head, fingers running through his brown locks gently. joel swiped his tongue against your bottom lip and made a low humming sound. “taste like cherries,” he commented, sliding his hand from your waist up to your throat.

“it’s the popsicle,” you gasped out, feeling joel’s hand encompass your neck. he pulled your hips forward against his by your belt loop, rocking you against him. his lips trailed from yours down to your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. the action had you panting out his name like a prayer, and it only further encouraged him. he managed to untie your bikini top without you noticing, and he roughly yanked the material over your head.

“let me see this thing,” leaning back, he took the popsicle from your grip, your hand becoming sticky from it melting in your hand. he licked it himself, which had you giggling, but then he put the treat up to your mouth. “open up, baby. wanna see you lick this like you lick me, yeah?” his voice was soft, comforting almost, which went against the actions of his hands, as one tightened around your neck and the other pushed the cherry treat into your mouth.

your eyes went hazy, and you focused on maintaining eye contact with joel while your face burned with heat. your mouth wrapped around the popsicle, letting him push it in as far as it could go. the coldness of the treat shocked you momentarily, feeling a slight burning sensation against your tongue as he held the popsicle in your mouth for a moment before slowly pulling it out.

your cheeks hollowed against it, sucking as much of the flavor off as you could, and when joel pulled it out of your mouth, a red string of your spit fell from your lips to your chest, dripping down in between the valley of your breasts. “fuck, honey.” joel groaned, his hips rutting against yours momentarily before he leaned down, licking up the trail of red juice on your skin. a whimper escaped from your mouth as you pressed your chest closer to his mouth, and joel took the opportunity to force the popsicle back in your mouth.

he slowly moved the popsicle inside your mouth, and even though he had his eyes closed while he pressed his mouth against your chest, you twirling your tongue around the treat, wanting to please him always. you could feel your bathing suit bottom sticking to your core with how wet you were becoming, and you wiggled your hips against joel’s body to get some type of friction.

he sucked one last kiss against your neck, biting against your skin before he pulled away. “goddamn, baby. such a good girl for me, huh? suckin’ on this popsicle like it’s my damn cock.” his crude words made you whimper, and with one last twist, he pulled the popsicle out of your mouth. his dark eyes stared at your mouth for a moment, taking in how red the popsicle made your lips. how wet they were from your saliva.

joel’s mouth formed into a smirk before it was pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp faintly. he sucked your bottom lip in his mouth, running his tongue over it slowly as if savoring the cherry flavor. his teeth nipped your lip, causing a moan to emit from your mouth. joel grinned against your mouth, and you tugged him closer, desperately seeking more.

the air in the garage was becoming suffocating, and you could feel sweat forming along your upper body. joel could feel it too, still clad in his t-shirt and jeans, and he gave you one more deep kiss before he pulled away. “you feelin’ hot, baby?” you could only nod your head, a whimper escaping your mouth as he grinned wickedly at you, eyeing the popsicle once more, the treat half melted. “let’s cool ya down, then.”

you watched with a slightly opened mouth as joel moved the popsicle to your chest, and you gasped when he pressed it against your skin, moving it down the valley of your breast. the coldness made goosebumps rise across your chest, and you couldn’t help the small moans at how good it felt. joel’s attention was solely on popsicle, watching the sticky trail of red juice follow where he guided it.

“joel,” you whimpered, reaching down to grip his forearm tightly. you could see him smile, could see him bite down on his bottom lip as he moved the popsicle to trail over your nipple. the gasp you made had him obsessed, and he ran the cold treat over your sensitive nub over and over again, taking in your gasps and moans, which were being drowned out by the fireworks outside.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this.” joel muttered, almost to himself, but you could make out the words in his deep voice. he sounded strained, as if he were holding himself back from simply pouncing on you. you wish he would, though, as you could feel your inner thighs become wet with your slick. your core was clenching around nothing, and it had been so long since the two of you were able to get away that you were desperately aching for him.

the popsicle was melting quicker now, the juices moving swiftly down your stomach as joel traced the popsicle across your chest to the other nipple. you were squirming as much as you could, seconds away from begging joel to stop and to just fuck you already. but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted this, that he was enjoying this, so you let him have it, and you admired the growing bulge in his jeans.

soon the popsicle was nothing but a puddle mixed into your skin, and joel tossed the stick to the side. “think i need to clean you up now, baby. look at the mess you made,” he said with a tsk, as if you were the one who drew on your chest with the popsicle. you didn’t have it in you to argue, though, especially when joel bent down and took your sensitive nipple in his mouth.

the contrast of the cold popsicle juice with joel’s warm mouth had you groaning, and you slumped against the garage wall as joel traced the popsicle trail with his tongue across your chest. he would pause here and there to place open mouthed kisses along your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d have some small bruises littering your skin. you liked wearing them though, liked having the reminder than joel had marked you as his. because you were, undoubtedly.

“joel, baby, please,” you whimpered, not fully understanding what you were asking for, but joel thought you were begging so beautifully. he wanted to hear you plead his name for the rest of his life. he pulled your nipple in his mouth, tweaking it with his teeth. a sharp pain flitted through your body, only lasting a second, but he did it again, and again, and soon you were panting.

“please, what?” joel mocked, grinning against your skin as he moved to squeeze your breast with his rough hands. “this not enough for ya?” satisfied that he cleaned up the mess the popsicle had made, he trailed his mouth up to your neck and across your jaw before pausing right in front of your face. his breath was warm as it fanned across your face, and you leaned in to kiss him but he pulled away, a teasing grin on his face.

“no,” you whined, moving your hands down the waist of his jeans. he let your fingers fumble with the button before he unbuttoned his pants himself, yanking the zipper down. your hand went inside his boxers immediately, and joel let out a curse as your fingers wrapped around the hard length of this cock. just the feeling of it in your hand had you moaning, and you slid your hand along his shaft the best you could in your position.

“‘course it ain’t enough for you. your needy little cunt needs more, yeah? needs my cock in it to stretch it out?” his hips moved in rhythm with your hand, his hand resting against the freezer top in a fist. his eyes fell shut as you pumped along his cock, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him. you loved seeing him like this, because it made you feel powerful. like you were the only person who could bring joel pleasure like this.

with a growl, joel’s hands suddenly moved to your shorts, where he unbuttoned them with swiftness and yanked them down. you lifted your hips, helping him get the material past your thighs, and they fell to the garage floor. “feet up, baby.” joel tapped your thigh gently, and you removed your hand from his boxers, lifting your legs up and bending your knees to rest your feet on the edge of the freezer.

you wanted to blame the wet feeling between your legs on the humid air gathering inside the garage, but you would’ve been a damn liar. you could feel yourself soaking through the material of your bikini bottoms, and you knew the moment joel was able to see it because he let out a string of curses. he brought his hand to the material, running his fingers gently down the seam, and you both moaned.

“jesus christ, honey. have you been wet like this for me the entire time?” his southern accent was starting to show more, as it did when he got excited. he ran his fingers along the seam once more before pushing the flimsy material to the side and running his finger through your wet folds, and he groaned at feeling how wet you were before sliding one of his fingers inside of you.

“oh, yes, joel. please, fuck me, please,” you whimpered, your hips rocking against the freezer in tandem with his finger as he pumped it inside of you. if you were more cognizant, you would’ve probably been embarrassed by the noise that was coming from between your legs, but you were too lost in the pleasure, especially when joel moved his thumb up to glide against your clit.

“you are askin’ nicely, baby,” he said, mostly to himself as he watched his finger push inside of you, watched the wetness that coated it with every pump. he was obsessed with the way you were clenching around him, and he could hardly wait himself to feel that movement against his dick. “yeah, i think i will fuck ya.”

with one last push, he pulled his finger out from inside you, and laughed when he heard you whine about the loss. “‘s okay, honey. promise i’m gonna fill that little pussy up with my cock real soon, okay?” he made quick work of letting his jeans hit the floor, soon followed by his boxers. his throbbing cock sprung free from his underwear, and you couldn’t help but trail your hand down to your core, pushing your bottoms to the side and slipping your fingers through your wetness at the sight of him. he let out a low groan before spitting in his hand, bringing it to the tip of his cock and slowly palming it while he watched you swirl your fingers against your clit.

“here baby, make sure ‘m nice and wet for that pussy,” joel muttered, stepping closer to your body as held the underside of his cock in his hand, still pumping it up and down slightly. you ran your fingers through your folds once more, gathering the wetness that had started to spread down your thighs, and reached out to wrap your fingers around his tip. soon, the head of his cock was shining from both his spit and your juices.

joel moved his left hand to settle on your waist, tilting his thumb down just enough to pull the material of your bikini to the side. his other hand continued to work his shaft as he moved even closer, his knees hitting against the side of the freezer. his eyes were solely focused on your exposed pussy, but you were watching his face, wanting to see his expression when he put it in for the first time.

“god, you’re so pretty down here. think i’m the luckiest man in texas, baby.” joel said, a smirk settled on his lips as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, your mouth dropping open in a sigh as you felt it slide against your clit. joel moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, and he lifted it to his mouth, holding it between his teeth. you took in the sight of his tan and toned body, and then his eyes snapped up to meet yours as he pushed the head into your wet hole, the both of you taking in each other’s reaction.

you fought the urge to close your eyes, the feeling of his big cock stretching you out was almost too much for you. your nose scrunched up slightly, and a louder moan came from your throat. for the first time that night, you were glad tommy had spent two hours shopping for fireworks, as the sound of the explosives and festivities drowned out your cries. joel bit down on his bottom lip as he continued to push himself inside of you, mentally focusing on not coming right then and there.

he paused when he was fully seated inside of you, taking a moment to catch his breath as the two of you were both panting in the heated garage. you noticed joel’s forehead had become slick with sweat, and you gently brushed back the dark hair that had fallen forward. your hand slipped down to rest on his cheek, and he pressed a kiss into the middle of your palm before he started moving his hips.

“fuck, joel,” you whimpered, your foot slipping from it’s hold on the edge of the freezer. joel moved his right hand to grip your thigh, spreading you open before him once more. his nails dug little half-moon imprints in the fat of your thigh, and the angle allowed you to take him a little deeper than before.

“that’s what i’m doin’ honey,” his words were slightly muffled from the t-shirt in his mouth, but you could see the grin from his teasing, letting out a sharp laugh before it turned into a groan. he moved to pull his cock out, and you almost cried at the loss, your hips moving on their own accord to follow his length. his grip on your waist tightened, keeping you still, until he barely had the head of his cock inside. he thrusted forward again, much quicker this time, and this time your eyes did screw shut at the feeling of is cock filling you up so completely.

your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping him so hard that you were basically anchoring yourself to him. “so deep, joel… so good,” you praised, your head rolling back on your neck as joel continued to fuck you at a thourough pace. the t-shirt fell from his mouth as he started to moan. his knees banged against the freezer, the freezer banged against the wall, and the fireworks outside masqued both the sounds. curses and praises fell from joel’s mouth - “fuckin’ hell, baby. your pussy gets tighter every damn time i fuck you, huh? you’re doin’ so good, honey, takin’ my cock like a good girl” - and you were feeling so hot, so full. joel was nearly fucking you into oblivion with how muddled your thoughts were.

the sound of his skin slapping against your wet skin was all you could focus on, a noise you would’ve been more embarrassed by if it weren’t a testament of how turned on joel made you. each stroke of his cock had you whimpering, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. you moved a hand down to your pussy, moving your fingers against your clit and brushing up against his length every time he thrusted inside of you. the action not only made heat pool to your stomach, but it made joel groan. “that’s it baby, play with that little clit of yours. gonna make yourself come on my cock tonight? gonna let me fill this pussy up with my cum?”

“oh my god, joel, please - right there,” you sobbed, your inner thighs shaking slightly as the feelings became too much to handle. joel picked up on how close you were to coming with how tightly your pussy was clenching around him, and he continued to thrust his hips against yours, the wet noises coming from between your legs made his head feel light.

small, breathy pants fell from your mouth as you moved your fingers faster against your clit, and distantly you could hear joel encouraging you to let go - “that’s it, honey. you’re takin’ my cock so well, let me make you feel good baby.” - and as joel leaned forward to place a kiss on your damp forehead, you felt yourself burst. a loud cry came from your lips as your body went rigid, little white stars showing up behind your eyelids as pleasure coursed through every vein in your body.

“oh, fuck, baby,” joel groaned out, his grip on your body becoming impossibly tight as his hips thrust into you, his movements faltering slightly. the feeling of your pussy clenching around his length while you came was what sent him over, and he ground his hips against yours as he came. you could feel his cock throbbing, the warmth from his seed filling you up as joel tilted his head back and moaned. you watched him through hooded eyes, struggling to catch your breath, but the sight of joel coming was almost enough to help you come again.

he kept his cock inside you as you both came down from your orgasms, and it moved inside you a little when he leaned forward again, making you whimper. “sorry, baby,” joel said softly, slowly pulling himself out while pressing his lips against yours. you eagerly kissed him back, moving a hand to rest on the back of his neck while he deepened the kiss. you felt unbelievably wet, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“your cum is running down my thigh, miller.” you said against his lips, causing the older man to laugh. he pulled away enough to take in the mess that was leaking out of your pussy, and then he did something that shocked you - he gathered up the slick with two of his fingers before pushing it back inside of you. your nails dug into his skin as his fingers entered your sore pussy, moaning softly as he watched himself intensely.

his gaze moved back to your eyes, where he gave you a wicked grin before leaning in to kiss you again. you sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing on the freezer before the two of you started to clean yourselves up. joel went into the house to grab a washcloth and a spare t-shirt for you, considering your chest was stained red and covered in little hickeys. he gently cleaned the mess from between your legs, then himself, and helped you pull your shorts back on. you had him help tie your bikini top again, his fingers coasting against your skin. he gave the back of your neck a quick kiss before turning you around and putting his t-shirt over you.

“there. now those pervs outside can’t catch a glimpse of ya,” he said, seeming satisfied with himself as he yanked up his pants. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes - his cum was literally dripping out of your pussy and yet he was acting jealous.

“oh? you mean pervs like you?” you teased, laughing as he swatted away your fingers that were trying to poke him. you thought you heard him mutter something in agreement, but a particularly loud firework went off at the same moment, so you were clueless. you figured that they were on the finale with how frequent and how loud the next few fireworks were, so you gave joel one last kiss before sneaking out the door, which you thankfully noticed was locked.

as you made your way to the grass, you mentally ran a checklist. you remembered to put your shorts back on, along with your top and a t-shirt. you remembered to clean off the freezer top with one of the towels joel kept in the garage, and you remembered to let your hair down to cover a hickey on the side of your neck. you remembered to go out the garage door, while joel went out through the living room, as he told tommy he was going in to get medicine for a headache. you felt like the two of you had covered all the bases as you sat down on the grass near sarah.

“hey, where are our popsicles?”

oh, fuck.

2K notes · View notes

macfrog · 9 months

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the sweetest con cowboy like me chapter fifteen

well. this is it. we made it, kids. thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end

word count: 10.8k

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“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”

“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”

You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”

“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.

“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.

Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.

It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.

Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”

“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.

Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.

Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.

She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.

Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.

That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.

It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.

The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.

“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.

“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”

Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”

She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”

“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”

“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.

“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”

“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”

You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”

Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”

“Hm?”

“What you just said.”

“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”

“Something a mom would say.”

“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”

The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.

You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.

“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”

Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.

What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.

He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –

No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?

He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.

It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.

Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.

You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.

Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.

His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.

Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.

You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.

“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”

“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”

Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.

Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”

Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.

“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.

Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”

Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.

You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”

“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”

You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”

“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”

You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?

Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”

You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”

A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”

You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?

“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”

“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”

You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.

He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.

“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.

“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.

Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.

“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.

She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.

When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.

There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.

The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”

“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.

Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”

“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”

He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.

Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”

“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”

He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”

“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”

“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Late one again tonight.”

“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”

“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”

You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”

And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.

He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.

He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”

You nod. “Miss you, too.”

“Let’s talk soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.

The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.

“Well?” Sarah asks.

He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.

“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”

“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”

You shrug. “I guess.”

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.

“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.

“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.

“Nice. She paying?”

“Obviously. Mom duties.”

You kick the door closed on their giggles.

Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.

Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.

Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.

The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.

All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.

“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.

Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”

“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”

Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.

You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”

He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.

Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”

And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.

Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.

Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?

“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.

It feels like – you.

How did I ever know anything before I knew you?

“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.

You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.

He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”

He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.

A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.

“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”

“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.

You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.

Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.

Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.

He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”

“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”

“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”

“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”

Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.

“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.

“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”

“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”

You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”

“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”

He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”

You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.

You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.

You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.

“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”

The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.

A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.

“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”

“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.

“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.

“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”

She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”

Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.

“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”

“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.

You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.

She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.

And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.

The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.

Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.

“Hi, hon.”

Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“’m good.”

“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”

You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.

He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”

It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.

He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.

But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”

Your head angles. “Are we?”

His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.

You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”

“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”

You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.

He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”

“Huh?”

He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”

Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”

His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.

“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”

“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.

“As what type?”

He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”

“He’s not.”

You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.

“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”

You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.

Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.

“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”

Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”

“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”

He grimaces at the thought.

“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”

The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.

I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.

The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.

You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.

And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.

All over again.

“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”

You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”

Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.

“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.

“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”

“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”

“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”

“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”

Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.

He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”

And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”

“You love him. You do, don’t you?”

Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.

“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”

Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”

He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”

He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”

You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.

“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”

“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”

“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”

The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.

“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”

A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.

But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.

“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”

You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”

A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”

He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.

“Can’t hold her back forever.”

“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”

You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”

“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”

Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”

It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.

Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.

“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”

Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”

You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.

“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.

The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.

They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.

You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”

And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.

In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.

But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.

A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.

He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.

She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.

She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.

They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.

They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.

They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.

Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.

I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.

Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.

Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.

It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.

Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.

Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.

Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.

You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.

“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”

“Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”

He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”

Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”

“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”

You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”

“Joel –”

“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you –”

“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”

Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.

Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”

“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”

“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”

You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.

“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.

You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.

Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.

And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.

“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.

Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.

His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.

“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”

Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.

And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.

You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.

“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”

You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”

Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.

You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”

“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”

“What the fuck are you –?”

“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.

You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”

Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.

Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.

Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.

“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”

He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.

Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.

Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.

You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.

The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.

“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”

His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.

“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.

His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.

Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.

The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.

You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.

“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”

Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.

You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.

Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.

You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.

Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.

Joel.

Home.

You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.

You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”

He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”

“And you’ll be there?”

He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”

It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.

“That what you want?”

Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”

“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”

In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.

It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.

Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.

Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.

I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.

#welp i didn't cry when i hit post. me? no. no way #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #fic: cowboy like me

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pendarling · 8 months

Text

Praise

Their hand skimmed Hero's shoulder as they pushed back their hair along their neck. A shiver ran up their spine, and cold eyes welcomed the feeling.

"You did so well today, didn't you, Hero?" When Villain discovered their best weapon against Hero was themselves, they'd lead an expedition of the heart. The best way to win wasn't only through physical confrontations; it looked like Hero was utterly unprepared.

It might've been an unsettling solution to a more significant issue; manipulation was not an easy path to learn to exploit for gains, but this was a harmless little game to Villain.

For Hero, on the other hand, their emotions were all over the place every time Villain made their next move. It wasn't like this until the sudden tactics change was introduced.

With their heart thumping in their chest, Hero tried to simulate resilience to the enemy. Villain had held a dagger to their throat as they were still recovering from the last compliment. Their voice held onto their throat, too afraid to speak.

"I always did admire your skills, Hero." They whispered gently next to their ear. Hero could feel their back pressed against Villain's chest with such intensity that it made it harder to decipher their intentions.

Villain grasped tightly at their waist to prevent them from moving and continued feeding them detailed lies.

All of them weren't complete lies, however. They honestly did believe Hero was one of a kind, but more in the sense that they were a nuisance.

"Are you trying to seduce me or convert me to your side?" Hero smirked tentatively; their body froze in anticipation as soon as Villain slid their arm around them and came to the front of their face smoothly, still aiming the dagger close to their throat.

"I was hoping you'd ask."

Hero felt their cheeks rise in temperature. Their heart ached in a pain they couldn't bear as they forced the feeling down. The proximity to them didn't help either; maybe they did want to get cut after all, and perhaps they wanted to get hurt. Whatever kept pulling them in had locked them into a position of weakness. "So this was all…"

"Not all, my dear." They fiddled with the dagger. "But you shouldn't believe everything anyone tells you." They rolled their eyes and watched the crime fighter furrow their brows as a thought came over them.

Hero knew this was all a setup for their schemes, but when Villain had confirmed that all their praises were falsified to add to the game, a distressing emotion overtook their face. "I know you would never appreciate what's in front of you, but you really don't know me if you think that would work. "

Villain raised a brow, "Really now? Is that why you're trapped right where I need you?" They tapped Hero's nose playfully,

"A small blunder for a large prize at the end."

"I guess you also love being rewarded too, huh? I can work with that."

Hero blushed but firmly remained grounded. "I'm not some kind of toy for you to play with, Villain."

"I know~" they chuckled, but Hero didn't buy it. "That's what makes you our city's favourite, isn't it? Those other heroes don't stand a chance against you, do they?"

They tried to push from their grip, but Villain was demanding and continued their fight.

"Awfully clingy, hm?" They stared at each other with a tilted grin. If Villain would mess with their head, so could they.

Catching onto their new plot, Villain only excited the moment and pulled closer, "It's what you deserve after all that hard work. I know you want a little appreciation," Hero swallowed, their confidence now wavering, "Don't worry about it, dear."

Hero thought back to their earlier days as a hero. What little they could do was credited to more prominent heroes. Their acts of saviour went unnoticed for quite some time, so having Villain of all people notice did something to them they didn't expect. Their words failed them as their mind muddled.

"You're teasing me again." They whispered, this time with a look of disappointment. Although Villain recognized what they could do, these words all existed to coerce them into confusion, not to acknowledge their achievements.

It was evil.

Self-centred.

Villainous.

Their rival frowned at the way Hero's voice shook in great despair, and this wasn't what they aimed for. Hero should've felt their ego boost enough for Villain to get away with all their plans.

A simple few sentences couldn't have ruined them; it should've remade Hero.

"You're overthinking all of it. I just wanted to admire you-"

"I get it. So please, whatever this is…" their fragile mask fell apart as growing tears filled their vision. "You win, alright?"

They couldn't have been any more wrong. Villain placed the dagger away and inspected the scene playing in front of them. Their leather glove wiped down a tear with casual comfort.

"Hmm?" Villain's eyes widened only slightly, not entirely believing what the results had come to. They'd assumed this would end much differently, but it had an unexpected consequence. "Feeling overwhelmed?" They murmured.

"Shut up."

Villain couldn't understand how their words could be misconstrued enough to impact Hero terribly.

They were all praises directed at commemorating Hero's work; it was nothing too special, only vague references and general connections to Hero.

Hero pulled themselves away from their arms and wiped their tears with frustration, "I'm letting you go. So leave before I regret anything."

"You really must not know me very well, love."

"I know you're not sincere."

They walked to their side and pulled their hands away from their face by the wrists, "Please, I'm not oblivious."

Hero's eyes met the ground in protest, "You could've done this any other way, and you chose to mess with my head?" Their heart raced rapidly. Even when they were mad, they were overjoyed at the evident concern from their adversary.

"You genuinely believe I think so lowly of you?" They leaned in. "Hero, the same one that deciphered my codes when no one could? Saved neighbourhoods alone and still made it home before dinner?" They raised their chin to meet eyes in the centre. "You do deserve all that attention." Their thumb circled their chin, "Though not everyone deserves you."

Hero had thought for a second that maybe they were still lying, still playing games with their head and leaving them to overthink it all later. It was better to stay in blissful ignorance than know; they nodded carefully, still doubtful but accepting of the words.

~~~

MASTERLIST

#fluff prompt #enemies to lovers #villain x hero #villainxhero #heroxvillan #hero x villain #hero x villain community #imagine your otp #angst #prompt

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mssorceressupreme · 2 months

Note

Hiii

I heard your requests were open 👀👀👀

Your writing is sooo amazing, it's addictive, like I can't get enough 😩🤚

Could I request a Minho X reader, reader is from Maze B, superrr close with Aris, and she's confident, sassy, sarcastic, loud and laughs a lot, total morale booster, she also cracks a lot of that's what she said jokes.

Since she's close W Aris, the boys might get the wrong idea and think they're a thing, but they clarify they're not lmao

You can ignore this request if you want, I just think you write so good, and so many people would love to read smth like this, I feel like some authors forget they're just teenagers ykwim?

It's so nice to see active Maze Runner blogs, especially when they write so bomb like you 😘

I hope you have a good day, never stop writing ♥️♥️♥️

Of course love, I’d be more than happy to write this for you 🥹❤️❤️❤️ Thank for the kind words, it really keeps me motivated, you’re such an angel 😭😭🫶🏼🫶🏼 Hope you have a great day too lovely!! 😘🥰 (also so sorry for the delayed post, I’ve been so busy with assignments lately 😭 I hope this satisfied your prompt 💓)

Who is She?

Pairing: Minho x Reader

Summary: Sparked with curiosity, Minho follows you one day. And your relationship takes a turn.

Warnings: none really, it’s a sweet imagine I like to think

——

The dining hall was a strange blend of sterile and vibrant. It was filled with chatter and the clinking of cutlery, the usual dinner routine. To you it was the most ‘normal’ atmosphere in this whole facility, the only time you felt sane. At least people weren’t shoving needles in your face, or interrogating you.

At one of the tables, the boys from maze A—Thomas, Minho, Newt, Frypan and Winston—sat together, their eyes scanning the room occasionally while engaging in conversation.

They were still trying to figure this new place out, especially the people in it. One of those people was you, confident in spirit and as sassy as can be, currently sitting with Aris. But they didn’t know his name, he was just a quiet kid to them, or your “boyfriend”, or so they thought.

“Whatever, I could take on 50 of those guards at once, they look like they’ve got no balls.” You sneered, while chewing on your food.

“Keep it low Y/N, we don’t want anyone overhearing us.” Aris warned.

“If I could set this whole place on fire, I would, but Stella won’t let me do shit. Don’t you think it’s time we try to escape?!” You huffed. Stella, one of the girls from maze B, was the bossiest girl you’ve ever came across. (aka the Gally of Maze B, before his redemption lol)

Mind you, she’s only alive to this day because you saved her from a griever…unfortunately. Sometimes you wished you left her in the maze.

Aris sighed, he too, disliked Stella. “Anyway, you should eat up. You’ve barely eaten since we got here.”

You slide your plate over to him, “Today’s your lucky day, I’m not hungry.”

He shrugged and began indulging in this second helping. Aris wasn’t much of a eater but boy, this is the first time you guys have had real food and he wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity.

“Look! An opening, I’m going to check it out.” You whispered, standing up as the guards walked away from their previous post.

“Y/N! Get back here!” Aris whisper-yelled, but you were determined to get through the other side of that door.

——

“Where is she going?” Minho observed as you made your way towards the door.

“Who?” Winston swiftly turned around, accidentally knocking over a cup of water in the process.

Newt chuckled, while Minho pressed his lips together. “Sorry, Minho!” Winston exclaimed, grabbing napkins.

“You’re alright man. I’ll be back.” Minho gave Winston a reassuring back tap, before leaving to find the bathroom. Or, maybe he just wanted to follow you.

——

You managed to get past the doors. This was a way easier attempt than anticipated, you thought to yourself but shrugged it off.

However, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being followed. Regardless, you didn’t care, the only thing that mattered was finding out what these people were really behind.

You halted your tracks, observing your surroundings. It seemed to be a never ending grey hallway with millions of doors, great, that makes it sooo much easier for you doesn’t it!

As Minho turned a corner, he bumped into you, nearly knocking you over.

“Woah, watch it!” You exclaimed, steadying yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Minho was quick to defend himself.

You furrowed your brows, the newcomer from maze A. “Were you…following me?”

Minho scoffed, “Pft of all the people here, why’d you think I’d follow you.”

You shot him a look, “Oh come on, I’ve seen you newbies. You guys watch Aris and I like a hawke.”

One of the doors dinged, about to open, so Minho quickly reacted by pulling you by the waist into one of the tiny cracks in the hallway walls, adequate enough to fit two people.

“Stop touching me!” I grunted, pushing his hand away.”

“I’m barely even on you!” He retorted.

“Why were you following me anyway?!” I whispered, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I had to use the bathroom! I’m wet if you can’t tell!” He responded, but it came out a bit too wrong. Minho immediately regretted how that sounded.

You held back your laugh, “That’s what she said.”

With a tiny bit of banter, Minho managed to break down your walls, all too quickly, something you weren’t really used to.

“So what are you up to anyway? Sneaking around like you own the compound.” Minho smirked, while keeping an eye out for any guards.

“I’ve seen them move bodies in and out of here like clockwork. Aris and I don’t trust these people.”

Minho’s eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? You should get back to your boyfriend then. I don’t think he’d be pleased to know you were in a confined space with another man.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, no. Aris isn’t my boyfriend. He’s more like a brother to me.”

There was a moment of silence as you stared at each other, the air thick with tension. Before either of you could say more, you heard footsteps. A guard was coming your way.

Minho quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you into what seemed like a nearby closet, closing the door behind you. You stood close together in the dark, barely daring to breathe.

The guards footsteps echoed past you and faded away, earning an exhale from the both of you.

“That was close,” You whispered, “and wow here we are in another ideal place to be in right now.” Boy, you are one sarcastic girl, Minho thought.

“I know I love it here.” Minho’s breath warm against your neck.

In the confined space, your proximity made every small movement noticeable. He could feel the heat radiating off you, and your scent was intoxicating. You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the dim light filtering through the cracks in the door.

“Why did you really follow me?” You asked, voice soft but filled with curiosity.

Minho hesitated, then decided honestly was the best approach. “I don’t know. I guess I was curious. You seem like someone we could trust, Thomas doesn’t trust the people here either.”

“Thomas?”

“Grey shirt, brown hair?” Minho described him, hoping I would recognise him.

“Ah yes, I saw his little incident yesterday. Attempting to fight a guard in the dining hall is daring, he’s got some balls.”

“Sure does.”

“You seem to know the place really well, we could learn a thing or two from you.” Minho added.

You smiled, a genuine one that made Minho’s heart skip a beat, “Well, maybe we both have a lot to learn about each other.”

Minho could see the flicker of something more in your eyes, a spark that mirrored his own feelings. He leaned in slightly, feeling the magnetic pull between them.

Before anything could happen, the reality of your situation came crashing back. You couldn’t afford to get distracted, not with so much at stake.

“We should get back,” you whispered, though your eyes said you didn’t want to move.

Minho nodded reluctantly, “Yeah, we should before anyone finds us here.”

You carefully slipped out of the closet, the hall now silent and empty. As you made your way back together, Minho couldn’t help but feel a new sense of determination.

You were in this together now, and he would do whatever it took to protect you and figure out a way out of her.

“Yo, Aris!” You called out as you re-entered the dining hall. Aris gave you a questioning glance, as you appeared with Minho, you simply nodded, signalling that you were fine.

Minho returned to his friends, who eyed him curiously.

“What happened?” Thomas asked.

“Just…getting to know our new friend.” Minho said, glancing back at you. You were already back at your table with Aris, but you shot him a quick, knowing smile.

Minho then gestured for you and Aris to come join them which you did.

“Don’t be shy, you can sit next to me if you’d like.” Minho smirked, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

You scoffed, “As if.” But you bit your lip, hiding back a smile.

“Careful, her boyfriend might not like that.” Newt warned, glancing at Aris to see his reaction.

“Oh no no, we’re not a thing.” Aris was quick to respond, “She’s like a sister to me.”

You chuckled, “Besides, I’m more into leaders, I like a guy who can lead.”

“Someone like me?” Minho teased.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah you wish. Who was the one leading you around just now?”

“Uh actually, if I can recall, it was me who had the reigns.” He hummed, smiling when he saw you get all worked up.

“Stand down maze boy, this is my terrain. You guys want a way out, Aris and I can help you.”

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” Thomas agreed, leaning in closely.

Minho shot you a smile, and you returned it, thought a bit cocky, he did manage to grow on you or whatever.

And for the first time, you actually felt a spark of hope. With extra manpower, you might be able to break out of this place.

You might be in a dangerous situation, but at least you weren’t alone. And Minho knew deep down, that together, you could face whatever came next, for once, everyone at that table felt hopeful.

The safe haven felt closer, and so did your friendship with Minho. But could this friendship blossom into something more, you often pondered.

Perhaps so.

You smiled, watching as Minho lead the next discussion. You could get use to this, it felt nice to be relaxed and not take the lead for once.

#dylan o'brien #imagine #ki hong lee #maze runner #minho maze runner x reader #minho tmr x reader #the maze runner #thomas brodie sangster #thomas tmr #tmr newt

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sulfies · 4 months

Text

Mermay Fic pt1

Ezio always felt bad about the small number of humble gondoliers he sent into the canale for a swim, he really did. He did try to apologize the first couple of times but honestly, he just did not have the time for it anymore. He usually did just toss them coins if anybody did walk up to him all angry the next day at the square.

And it truly was not that big of a deal, It's just water…

“Oh did you hear-”

Ezio picked up his freshly repaired boots from the apprentice of the cobbler when trained ears picked up on the two ladies gossiping about the latest in Venice.

“No wait he did not! The assassin?!”

Who? Did what? What did he get up to this time? Ezio nodded at the shop as he slowly walked closer getting into the earshot more to get the full story on his new supposed doings…

“Yes Yes! Elena saw it too! He was docked as he always is around those times, you know that man likes a schedule” The other woman nodded agreeing and Ezio held a sigh.

Stalling aren't we… get to the juicy bits woman. His foot tapped on the stone ground

“and suddenly the brute jumps down on him and throws him into the canale, doesn't even yell sorry or look back, just takes off with the gondola!”

The other woman did an offended gasp as Ezio finally also clocked what they were talking about

“And I normally like the assassin guy too! So I was shocked ofcourse, everyone was-”

He tilted his head remembering yesterday's run-ins, Yes maybe he did throw another one into the Canales torrents as he was on a chase but what was the big deal this time, if he got legs he can swim, it's not like the gondolier was-

“I mean what kind of a sane man throws a paralyzed man into the water and steals his boat!”

Oh…

The gondolier was Paralyzed...

Nothing is True everything is allowed so might as well toss a disabled towner into the water Ezio!

“Well was he all right? Is he injured?”

Yes was he? Ezio wanted to rush out to the woman and shake her asking if his victim was okay, what was his address and would he accept a sorry in payments.

“Thankfully no, but he refused to let us help him out…” The woman's tone took a curious tune. “It was weird but he was probably embarrassed and didn't want people to see… you know…” The hand gesture around the legs told what she meant and it only drew another stake at Ezios heart so Ezio took it as his cue to leave and look for the man.

Well… He fucked around too much and now has to beg this old dude for forgiveness….

He looked at the new boots in his hand… can't even give him these, great fuckup Ezio. Leo will laugh his ass off about this.

—------------------

It took him two days to track the man down, turns out when half the city is traversable via water everyone tries being a gondolier at least once, but this one has made a name for himself, which did not help Ezios conscience because all everyone said was;

“Oh, that man? yes, you can find him around here when the sun is up midday, very sweet and strange that one, always jokes with the others, nice to talk to.”

”Oh you mean him? Such a nice fella always chats to me about my day…”

”Paralyzed Gondolier…. ah you mean the nice one that hangs around here all day?”

So needless to say Ezio was sweating a bit but he was here to make things right!

His purse was heavier than usual today with an apology gift added into it, he walked the middle district scanning over any water he could see as he passed the bridges, he came to an opening of a small courtyard where people were sitting under the tree on benches and some street kids were playing around. It was one of those areas that had access to the water via stairs and docks. It was one of the busier yards since it had few shops around it too.

Ezio realized this was, in fact, the route he took 3 days ago, hopefully finding him will be easy, there can't be that many disabled gondola rowers. His eyes moved over the body of water, there were 5 gondoliers docked near just hanging about, 2 of them sitting on a dock near their boats. He tried to look for an old weak man but the one he did notice did not show up on his eagle vision at all.

When the same man also got up to stretch Ezio erased him off of possible victims.

Then he caught a flicker of gold light and his eyes zeroed into a golden bright figure on the left,

He blinked turning the vision on and off a couple of times...

”Ah cazzo, just my luck”

He didn't almost drown an old man who couldn't walk, he almost drowned one of the most handsome gondoliers in Venice.

#fanfic #ezio auditore #assassin's creed #desmond miles #no mermaids this chapter lol #next chapter will be Desmond pov #Idk if that dock actually exists act like it does for my sake plz lol

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harry-sussex · 1 year

Text

This was, no joke, the best moment of my entire life. I have been waiting so long for this. I never thought it would happen.

I had originally planned to volunteer with the UK branch of my job today, but when I saw the announcement, I knew I had to do this instead. I decided to get dinner at the pub, Dog and Duck, last night to look inside and try it out - I got bangers and mash and some fish (sans chips) as an appetizer, and it was legitimately so good. I also tried the Timothy Taylor’s Landlord Beer – you can see William in the photos from today right behind the tap. My server’s name was Bernie, and you can see her in some photos with William and Kate today too – tiny woman, short gray hair cut into a bob.

I set earlier alarms this morning but due to the time difference / jet lag, I didn’t make it here until 10am. I popped into a Tesco Express on the way to grab some flowers at @avidroyalfan’s advice – yellow of course, the brightest bunch I could find.

I made it over to the area around the pub and there were barricades and policemen everywhere. There was also a black Range Rover parked at the far end of Frith Street – the street they mentioned in the press release yesterday. It thought it was mildly crowded when I got there, but it didn’t even begin to compare to the crowd that had gathered closer to their arrival.

I really had trouble picking where I was going to stand – I didn’t want to be behind anyone, I just wanted to be up against the barricade, but given that the crowd was so relatively sparse on Frith Street (as opposed to right across from the pub on Dean Street) when I got there, I wasn’t sure they were going to come my way. I was also praying that I’d be on Kate’s side of the road if they came by – you guys know I love William, but if I had a chance, this once in a lifetime chance, I needed Kate. I went with my gut, a little further down the road than where the crowd at the time had started to assemble, so I could be right against the barricades. From the moment I got to the barricade, I was literally shaking, and I am not exaggerating – you can see it in one of the videos.

I passed the time talking to some lovely people – some of whom planned to be there and some of whom happened to stroll by. I met a lovely woman, Cath, who took tons of photos without me even asking – she just saw how excited I was and took the photos to send to me. Another woman named Teri did the same – just out of the kindness of their own hearts. Those are most of the photos you guys are going to see – I took a bunch while Kate was walking around, but I didn’t want to put my own camera in her face if she was standing right in front of me.

I stood for more than four hours start to finish and I do not regret it in the slightest. I thought a lot about what I was going to say to her if I had the chance – I’ve thought about it so many times over the years, but what could I really say that would summarize more than 10 years of pure admiration and adoration in 30 seconds or less? What could I – an American in London all the way from New York – possibly say to the UK’s next queen to tell her how much she’s meant to me for all these years?

There was a policeman right in front of me – his name was Thompson – who was subtly dropping hints about what was going on. He couldn’t say much but he did hint at the time we could expect them to arrive – about 12:45pm. He ended up pretty close – he told me that he got randomly assigned to the event today and that he (and basically the entire police force) would also be at the coronation. He also confirmed that they would be walking down Frith Street, where I was, though he wouldn’t hint at which of them was going to be on my side of the street.

By the time they arrived, the crowd had literally quadrupled – maybe even more. People were on the rooftops and hanging out of windows. Very few of them had flowers. Businesses let people go on their steps to get a closer view. A helicopter was circling above for security. There were policemen and RPOs everywhere. I thought William and Kate were going to drive right up to the pub but instead they walked from the far end of the street – I suppose because they took the tube. Speaking of the tube, that’s the exact line I took this morning. That’s also where the (absolutely enormous) press pack was assembled.

I could tell when they arrived, even though I couldn’t see them right away, because the roar of the crowd and the sound of dozens of cameras clicking said everything I needed to know. As I was a bit further down the street, I didn’t get the greatest view, but it didn’t matter – you could see Kate from a mile away. That jacket was bright in and of itself but she literally glows. There’s just an inherent radiance about her that cannot be explained unless you see it in real life – she’s ethereal in photos, but they don’t even begin to do her justice. She’s radiant. Also, you can see that her hair is perfect no matter how far away you are. As they turned the corner to get to the pub, I was able to crane my neck a little bit to see them get closer to the door, and I saw The Hand with my own two eyes. William placed his hand on Kate’s lower back to guide her inside – we’ve seen photos millions of times, but seeing it with my own two eyes was unreal. Completely surreal.

They spent far less time inside the pub than I would’ve thought (unless time was flying because I knew they were coming), but again, you could hear them come out the door just by virtue of the roar of the crowd. Thompson the policeman then told me that Kate was coming to my side of the street. I thought I was shaking before – nope, not even remotely compared to how I was when I heard that she was coming my way. I saw William first across the street – he went through relatively quickly but I could somewhat hear him saying “nice to meet you” over and over, shaking hands, laughing, the usual. He’s huge – I always knew he was tall but he’s massive, tall and broad. You could tell from twenty feet away - he’s huge. At one point, I literally blurted out “he’s not wearing blue!” once I saw the brown coat. He was on the side of the road that had more people, and he moved along at a solid pace - it’s definitely true that Kate is a chatter, no wonder they gave her the side of the street with fewer people. She would’ve been outside for 3 hours if she was greeting the amount of people on William’s side. He’s honestly such a good sport – he was shaking hands, standing on his tip toes and craning over the barricades to greet as many people as possible. I could very clearly see the faces of the people looking directly at him – you can tell they absolutely love him. Such genuine smiles. The pure adoration and happiness in their eyes said everything one needs to know – those people absolutely love him like their own.

When Kate turned the corner from the pub towards where I was standing, I swear to god my heart jumped right into my throat and my stomach dropped. God, she’s beautiful. Like I knew this, it isn’t news, the entire world is perfectly aware that she’s one of the most beautiful women on the face of the earth…. but she still managed to stun me anyway. She’s radiant. Absolutely gorgeous.

Somewhere along the way, as she moved down the line of people in my direction, it occurred to me that I was legitimately going to meet, or at the very least greet, Her Royal Highness The Princess of Wales, after all this time, after so many years… I am not exaggerating when I say I was physically shaking. You can see it on my face in the photos even as she approached, before she came near me – I wasn’t panicking, I was just in awe. I’ve always known she was real of course, but she’s… actually real? Do you know what I mean?

She was moving so slowly compared to William – I swear he was already 75% of the way through his side of the crowd by the time Kate got to me. That’s when I really noticed that she is just so chatty – I didn’t notice her just greeting someone and then moving on quickly. She was so engaged. Every single person I could see was like entranced by her very presence - she’s literally such a vision. It’s not just me, it’s not just us – people are completely fascinated by her.

And then.

She came closer and closer – as I was on her left, I could see the ring. It’s huge – like, it’s big on camera, but the thing is enormous. I could not believe for the life of me that she was right there. I made sure to stick the flowers out enough and stand up straight and believe me when I say I didn’t have to remind myself to smile or make eye contact – I could literally feel myself beaming (right before she got to me):

When she came over, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Before I knew it, Kate was reaching to shake my hand and saying “nice to meet you” and I literally still cannot believe it. I handed over the flowers and I said to her:

“It’s nice to meet you, I just wanted to tell you that I have admired you for so long and that I also studied Italian Renaissance art history just like you did.”

When I said that I admired her, she said “oh, thank you!” as I continued to ramble about the art. She was still holding the flowers. I cannot believe that there are so many pictures of Her Royal Highness The Princess of Wales holding bright yellow flowers that I got for her while smiling ear to ear – she handed them off before she moved onto the next person, so she is definitely smiling at me in those photos.

She then asked me if I liked studying art, and I said of course – she responded “me too!” After that, she asked me if I used it in my career, and I said no (which I don’t) but my master’s was a passion project. She then asked where I flew from (the accent, I guess) and I told her that I came from New York. She said that it was such a long way to come and that she was surprised at how many people have traveled so far for the big weekend. She touched my arm so sweetly for like the quickest second; she then said that it was going to be such a big event and that she was looking forward to joining the celebrations and that it was going to be good for everyone.

The last thing I said to her was “also, I ate in the pub last night because I heard you were coming!” and she responded with “oh that’s great, how was the food?” It was legitimately fantastic – I told her so – and she said that they would have to come back and try it when there were fewer people around.

It was then time for her to get moving so I just said “it was so nice to meet you” again and she said “nice to meet you, have a nice day!” Right before she moved on and as she was saying goodbye, she handed off the flowers and went on her way.

The whole thing lasted maybe two minutes, but I will remember it for the rest of my life. Her eyes are so green and she’s just so stunning up close and I just cannot believe she was that close to me and that we were able to talk and she is everything I have ever dreamed she would be and more. Just so sweet and gorgeous and engaged in what we were talking about – she didn’t just say “hi” and “bye,” you know? She listened to what I said and responded back without generalities… everything I ever dreamed of and more. I thought I couldn’t love her more – I do now. She has made my entire day and my entire life and I will literally never forget the vision of Her Royal Highness The Princess of Wales, Catherine Elizabeth, someone I have adored for more than a decade, standing in front of me.

I am so happy I could cry. I was stunned after - literally could not believe what just happened to me. Take a look at the video below - you can see part of our conversation and then just the pure shock at the end. My hands were literally shaking.

Once the shock wore off, I did in fact cry. They say never to meet your heroes – why not? How could you go wrong meeting someone you have idolized when that someone is Kate?

#my post #katie goes to london pt. 2 #prince william #prince of wales #kate middleton #princess of wales #I’m sorry for the shitty quality I did this from my phone in a Starbucks lol #also thank you all for being so sweet I literally could not ask for anything more #I love you all so much #Kate and Katie

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luckycharms1701 · 6 months

Note

Lucky I write down potential asks in my notes and literally just scribbled this today so the fact hur open now is a wild coincidence and also ily /p have a great night !!! Drink fluids !!

The set up premise might be.. different? so ignore if inspiration doesn't tickle ur scrote but I am a person who eats spicy food on a daily basis and if it's painful enough it can look like a damn sexual experience(panting, sweating, flushed face, gr/moaning(in pain), whines, milk spills, the works). I can see bay Mikey doing some kind of prank or dare without knowing what would stir within until suddenly ur being dragged off to his bedroom trading one heat for another-

I'd hoped this was just about blurbish length and that I make sense ;-; (I am so nervous about sending request asks in I am ill)

(-gornack but anon cuz if i sound nonsensical I don't want the embarrassment of having my account attached)

^ how i felt reading this ask

there is nothing to be embarrassed about here!!

sorry for the fade to black but hope you enjoy anyway!

It takes exactly three wings for you to realize that you’ve made a mistake. You pause when the heat hits your tongue, and that is another mistake. You swallow without tasting anything and look at Mikey’s expectant face with a shaky smile. “No problem!” You give him a thumbs up, hoping he’ll ignore the increasing redness you can feel in your face.

When Mikey came to you, begging to recreate those videos he was obsessed with where people eat progressively spicier food, you knew this would happen. You knew. But one look into those tearful puppy dog eyes and you folded faster than wet cardboard. Now you (and your relatively low spice tolerance) find yourself wishing that you weren’t head over heels for him.

“Yes!” Mikey cheers with his hands in the air, and all the pain you are about to endure is immediately worth it. Damn him. You look back down at the remainder of the wing in your hand and both dread and determination run through your veins. Well, mama didn’t raise no quitter. You bring the little bomb to your mouth and eat the rest of it, trying and failing to keep the sauce off your lips. Shit.

You nibble on some bread to help with the heat, saving the milk for later when you’re truly suffering. Your fingers tap along to the beat of the music Mikey put on as you look for the next spicy little enemy. Instead of offering you the next saucy wing, Mikey is staring. At your lips, specifically. You touch them hesitantly. They feel a little inflamed but dry. “Did I miss some sauce or something?” Mikey shakes his head with an unusually (even for him) loud “No! You’re fine.” You shrug and reach for the wing he offers you.

Sweat forms on your brow before the heat hits, and you brace yourself just in time. A breathy “oh” leaves your parted lips as the heat rolls through your mouth like thunder. You give in and reach for the milk as the heat crests, gulping a little too quickly and spilling some. When the teasing you expect from your best friend doesn’t manifest, you try to contain your panting and look up to find him once again staring at your mouth. “Okay, I know what’s up with me, but what’s up with you?” You reach up and swipe at the line of milk dribbling down your chin with your thumb, and Mikey visibly swallows.

“N-nothing, angel. Just wondering if you’re still up for this. You look… heated.” You groan loudly at what you assume is a very bad pun, holding out your hand for the next torture device. The heat in your mouth is now at an alarmingly high steady burn, but you are trying to ignore that in favor of getting through this ordeal.

“Hit me, Michelangelo.” He mutters something under his breath that you can’t hear over the music, and you study him as he hands you the next wing. He is twitchy, eyes dark as he watches your fingers wrap around the meat. Wondering why Mikey is acting so weird is a good distraction from the pain in your mouth, so you continue to observe him as you raise the fifth wing to your mouth.

It seems almost like Mikey is the one on the spot, you muse as you chew, with the way he can’t sit still. He’s looking everywhere except at you now, fingers tapping agitatedly on the can of Orange Crush in between his hands on the table. Then the heat hits you like a brick wall, and there is no room in your head for anything except the stinging pain. Tears fill your eyes as you whimper.

Mikey’s chair scraping across the floor startles you as you chug some milk, and you spill some again. Your whimper turns into a groan as more milk dribbles down your chin. How embarrassing. The milk pools in your hand as you try in vain to keep it from getting everywhere.

“Okay, that’s it!”

Before you can process what’s happening beyond the fire raging in your mouth, Mikey rounds the table and picks you up. You stutter his name, hands flailing, beyond bewildered. He ignores you and beelines for his room, squeezing you firmly against his plastron.The door closes with an ominous snick, and you brace yourself, still panting from the heat of the wings. The tension leaves you though, as Mikey tosses you on the bed and shows you exactly why he was acting so weird. Oh. Ohhhhh. OH.

~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic @writinandcrying @xnorthstar3x @morenovix218 @donniesgirlie @gornackeaterofworlds

#in case anyone is wondering #when mikey is muttering he says 'oh i'll /hit you/ alright. hit you with my dick'#you're welcome 😙#i had a lot of fun writing this! very tongue in cheek that's my favorite #also thank you for the well wishes i am happy to be back uvu #i've said it before and i'll say it again: i LOVE getting requests PLEASE send them to me #zero need to be anxious i get giddy whenever one comes in #talking tag #writing tag #bayverse mikey #bayverse mikey x reader #tmnt

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 2 years

Note

Hello! :)

Could you possibly do an Ajax x shy!reader where they’re dating but she still gets kinda nervous around him and he thinks it’s super cute and teases her for it?

yes, we need more Ajax!

A BIT SHY

Pairings: Ajax Petropolus x Shy!Fem!Reader Summary: ^^^^ Warnings: nothing

you had never been the the most outgoing person, you never really spoke your mind, at least not to people.

you had a thing for talking to yourself, people would say it's weird but you think it's helpful.

but you mostly talked to Thing and your teddy bear, even though one of the two couldn't answer.

the point is that you were a bit shy.

especially towards your boyfriend, Ajax

any time he saw you, he would be greeted with a slight smile with a light tint of pink rising on your cheeks.

the constant hiding behind him as people you didn't know approached.

and all the times he caught you staring at him and looking away when you realise you've been caught

he never minded it though, he thought it was cute, seeing you get flustered and nervous when he does about almost anything.

although he didn't find it cute when you took a week to answer him when he asked you out.

you two were friends before, although you never really spoke that much, he found a liking to you.

so he worked up the courage to ask you out.

he knew there was a chance you would run off but he took it.

"hey, so you don't have to say or decide anything right now, but I was just wondering if you'd want to go out with me sometime, maybe the Weathervane" The gorgon boy rambled to you

you stood in front of him, eyes slightly widened as you gulped

he said you didn't have to say anything or decide just yet, but he definitely would of wanted a response from you.

so no one couldn't blame him when he felt rejected as he watched you walked away in a rush

you just couldn't comprehend or come to an immediate answer

but after a couple days, you came up with your answer.

you lost sleep over thinking about it, thinking that maybe he was joking, that maybe it was a prank, or that if it is true, he would be sick of you by a week.

but you pushed those negative thoughts away and thought of yourself, Ajax was lovely, kind and so very caring, if he didn't like you, he wouldn't have asked you.

so you found him talking with Xavier in the quad. you waked over slowly, tapping Ajax on the shoulder making him turn around

"Hi" he sighed

"can I talk to you?" you muttered to him.

he looked over the Xavier who nodded his head, letting him go

"sure" he said getting up from his sport, leading you to the lake before turning to you

"what's up?" he stuffed his hands in his pocket

"I was just wondering..." you started quietly, talking a big pause out of anxiety

"well I was wondering if that hang out was still on the table" you spoke nervously

"it was more of a date than a hang out but yeah, yeah it is" he chuckled, nodding his head

"well I um- I'd like to go" you smiled softly

"you'd like to go out with me?" he smirked

"if that's not ok then-" you shook your head sheepishly

"-it's more than ok, it's perfect, it's what I was hoping you'd say!" he beamed

so throughout your relationship so far, he would do most of the talking while you listened and blushed

and today was like every other.

he came around to your room, Weems didn't let anyone out to the town so you had to cancel your date at Weathervane and bring it to your dorm

"I brought snacks!" he grinned as he walked through your door.

"what type?" you asked

"don't worry, darling, I got your favourites" he pulled them out of the bag.

you smiled at him and held out your arms

he smirked as he dropped the bag on the floor, tackling you on your bed, kissing you all over you face.

you giggled as he rubbed his nose against your neck

you squealed and tried getting him off you.

you pushed him off you with all your strength making him pout, his face dangerously close to yours.

"you're so adorable" he whispered

you face went red as he stared at you and you looked around your room, anywhere but him

he laughed under his breath and ran his hands through your hair

"nothing to say? cat got your tongue again, sweetie?" he teased cockily

you rolled your eyes and pushed him off you, setting up your laptop for the movie

"what movie should we watch, darling?" he leaned closer to you, breathing down your neck as he called you one of his many nicknames for you

you shrugged and went on Netflix

"I was thinking maybe 50 shades of grey" he smirked

you started breathing heavily and shook your head

"oh wait, I have the perfect movie!" he clapped taking the laptop and putting one on.

Ajax pulled you closer to him as you both got comfortable on your bed.

he pulled over th bowl of popcorn from your nightstand and proceeded to put m&m's and Maltesers in, mixing them around

you noticed the title of the movie as the intro started and smiled when you saw Spree written in red on the screen

you had been meaning to watch it for a while but had been caught up doing other things

throughout the movie, you slowly inched towards the gorgon boy next to you, moving closer and closer as the movie progressed to the point you were almost on top of him.

you weren't scared of the movie but didn't want an excuse for him to tease you about 'throwing yourself on to him'

he felt something tickling your neck and cheek.

"Ajax stop, I'm trying to watch the movie" you giggled

"I'm not doing anything" he denied, you leaned back and took at look at him, seeing a couple of his snakes leaning closer to you

you looked at them in awe

"hello there" you muttered

"what?" Ajax questioned

"you're snakes"

his eyes widened and he pushed them up in him beanie

"you gotta stop doing that guys" he told them

you slumped down in your spot, your smile faltering

"what's wrong?" he asked

you shrugged in response.

"hey, hey" he paused the movie and moved to look at you

"you can tell me, you know" he sat crossed legged, grabbing your hands gently

"there's nothing wrong" you looked down at yours hands interlocked with his

he felt his snakes come out of his beanie again, but didn't bother pulling them back in

"they really seem to like you" he stated with a short laugh

"I like them too" you looked up at them, slowly reaching out to touch them

"hey, don't go replacing me!" he joked

"I would never" you smiled

he leaned in to kiss you, placing a hand on your cheek.

"never?" you furrowed his eyebrows

"well- no?" you spoke questionly

"what?" he tilted his head

"yes?" you nodded you head

he stared at you laughing at your response

"sorry" you apologised sheepishly

"don't be, it's cute" he stated

you blushed again and slightly leaned back when he leaned towards you

"hey, don't do that, baby"

you let yourself fall into his chest and hug him tightly as he fell back on his back.

Ajax thought you were the cutest soul to roam the planet every time you did almost anything, he didn't mind that you were quiet, he didn't care that you didn't talk to him, as long as you were there listening with a little smile and a blush on your face, he was happy.

you were just a bit shy, and to him, it was adorable.

------------------------------------------------

this could've been so much better, I'm sorry

#shy!reader #ajax petropolus #ajax wednesday #ajax petropolis x reader #please request for ajax #xavier thorpe #wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #georgie farmer #fluff #cute #x fem!reader

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universellie · 1 year

Note

Steven X male reader who works at the donuts shop. They're really good friends, but Steven has a crush on him. (he likes him too) and him embarrassing himself trying to look cool in front of him, he thinks he messed up but he thinks it's super cute and they end up going on a date and it's all cute and fluffy. Sorry if this doesn't make sense, I'm not good at this 😭 love your writing 💜

ohemgeeeee of course! and thank you! This is such a cute concept so I hope you like it <3 I got a bit confused with which person is getting embarrassed so I’m going to choose Steven, hopefully that’s okay!

>~TW: fluff overload ;)

>~ Steven Universe x m!reader

>~context; reader works in the donut shop with Sadie, Steven comes in one day when Reader is working and very awkwardly asks him on a date to FunLand :)

Donut Look At Me!

Beach City was a means to an end. In your grand future plans, you were ready to tour the world. Visit everywhere you possibly could, escaping the towns small, yet homely atmosphere. You’d miss it here, it was your home. Luckily, you weren’t going to be moving away anytime soon. School was finished, but you had to make money to go on your great adventure.

That’s where the Donut Shop came into place. A means to an end. Sadie had hired you purely based off of your friendship from school. Both 18, she had been working in the shop for years at this point. She has been here with Lars, but following his unusual disappearance the shop eventually had to hire another person. You left Greg Universes car wash not long ago, he was a great boss but getting wet everyday wasn’t really your idea of fun. Then Sadie offered you the job.

It was a regular Wednesday afternoon, summer sun rays blazing through the open windows. A crystal clear ocean lapping at a lazy beach sends a steady thrum of sound. Sadie was out back, throwing donuts in the deep frier. The new rule of actually cooking the donuts was testing, to say the least. You were leaning against the counter, tapping your hand along the wood as you watched people go by outside the shop. Sadie was humming a song, she was a great singer, you had to admit. Maybe she’d end up in a band.

The door swung open, the bell twinkling above. Steven Universe stood there, tall, dad bod concealed behind a pink bomber jacket and the classic jeans and sandals combo. You could feel your knees becoming weak behind the counter, staring at him with awe as he approached. His hair looked bouncier today, his eyes already scanning through the shelves and the donuts displayed at the counter. He was humming a tune, it sounded like his ring tone. His gaze lifted to find you looking at him, a gentle blush creeped to his cheeks. “Hey! How are you doing today?” He fidgeted with his hands nervously, almost shuffling closer to the counter. You felt a warmth grow in your chest, what it would mean to you if you were the cause of his nervousness.

“I’m good Steven. How about you?” His gaze snapped up to yours, he gripped his hands, knuckles turning white.

“Great!” He said it almost a little too enthusiastically. He grimaced, cringing by his tone. He quickly averted his eyes to the glass shelves of donuts. “Can I get a vanilla sprinkles and uhhh…” He paused, looking at you he took a quick breath, and leaned on the counter. “And a side of you to go.” You looked at him, disbelief clearly written on your face and Steven immediately offered an awkward chuckle. “Good joke right?!” He said hurriedly, standing back off the counter and rubbing the back of his neck. You couldn’t help but smile, what a dorky, awkward guy.

“I’ll get you those donuts, unfortunately employees aren’t on the menu.” You held his gaze as you put the donuts in a box, adding a few of your favourites for good measure. He gave a kind smile, cheeks tinted pink with a blush of embarrassment.

“Good come back, Y/N.” He slid cash across the counter, watching you put it in the register. You could hear him tapping his foot on the ground, why was he being so impatient? He opened his mouth and closed it again, before taking a breath and locking eyes with you. “Want to go on a date?” Stammering it out as if it was the hardest thing to say in the whole entire world. “To uh, FunLand! Or or… Mr Happys arcade? If you don’t want to it’s fine, I don’t expect y-“ You gave him a small smile, his awkwardness was adorable.

“I’d love to go on a date Steven. I’m off at 6, meet you here then?” His face lit up, a smile growing.

“Yes! Yes that’s amazing-“ He stopped himself, taking a deep breath and trying to hide his excitement. “That would be great, see you then handsome.” He winked and gave you finger guns as he walked out of the store. You saw him giving himself a face slap and muttering some incoherent nonsense about being stupid. How cute he was.

✶✶✶

You stood outside the donut shop, trading your company uniform for a hoodie. You looked out towards the beach, it was 6:10pm, where was Steven? Just as you were contemplating if he had stood you up and if you should leave, you heard the rushed slap of sandals on the ground. You could hear panting, and watched as Steven hurtled towards you, bouquet of wild flowers in his hand.

“I’m here! I’m so sorry I’m late-“ He was wearing different clothes, lighter jeans and a new shirt, still keeping the star theme. He stopped before you, heaving and out of breath. He held up his hand and presented the bouquet, you couldn’t help but blush. “Oh Steven… thank you. This is really kind.” He nodded, then stood and sucked in a deep breath. “I had to get flowers the prettiest boy, right?” He gave a smirk, then tried to lean against the donut shop wall. He missed it by an inch and stumbled forward, catching himself before he made out with the floor.

“Steven are you okay?!” You went to help him up but he waved you away. Giving that familiar embarrassed chuckle.

“I’m fine! Really, let’s go to FunLand. I got us free tickets for the rides after working in the arcade for a month.”

“Wasn’t that because you broke one of the games?”

“Yes but…. I stayed on to help! So I got a thank you gift.”

You smiled, nodding. He held out his hand you took it, holding the flowers he gifted you in the other. The pair of you talked, walking down the boardwalk and to the sparkling lights of the amusement rides. It was sweet, he tried to deliver some pick up lines but they fell flat, yet they still made you laugh. His attempt at wooing you, even though it was miserable, was working. The genuine sweetness he showed you was heart warming. The pair of you reached FunLand, beelining for the roller coaster. He gently took the flowers from you, laying them safely at the entrance. Then your belongings and packed them in a tidy pile. On the roller coaster he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as the pair of you screamed on each loop and dive.

You played mini games, he managed to win you a giant panda due to his sharp precision in knocking down wooden ducks with a water gun. After getting corn dogs, you found the pair of you sitting on the docks ledge. Sourcreams dads boat sitting to the side. The waves lapped gently at the posts, the night was clear and a gentle warm breeze ruffled your hair.

“Thank you, for agreeing to come on a date with me” Steven said gently as he nibbled on the side of the corn dog. He stared out into space, like he was gazing directly at one particular star.

“Thank you for inviting me Steven. It was… an amazing night.” Steven looked at you, a kind smile playing on his lips as he took your hand and held it.

“I have to be honest with you. I’ve had a crush on you for a while, I think that’s why I’ve been such a clutz. I just- when I see you I can’t help but feel nervous!” You smiled, giving his hand a small squeeze.

“Oh Steven, I’ve felt the same way. I think I’m just better at hiding it.” The pair of you turned to face each other, genuine smiles and eyes that told more than words could say. Steven leaned into you, before quickly looking away from your lips as of to ask ‘Is it okay?’. You merely gave a slight nod of your head in response.

Steven leaned in and kissed you, like there was no end to the night. Softly he took you in his arms, breaking away for a moment to look at you, before kissing you once again.

#steven universe #steven universe au #steven universe fandom #steven universe fanfic #steven universe imagine #steven universe x f!reader #steven universe x reader #rose quarts su #steven universe and reader #steven universe author #steven universe and human reader #pink steven #steven universe the movie #steven unvierse au #rose quarts steven universe #Steven universe x m!reader #Steven universe and male reader

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tired-reader-writer · 3 months

Text

Arslan Senki Chapter 130 Live-reaction Commentary

WOAH that sword landed just shy of Innocentis' family jewels LOL.

Arslan sweating and panting even after he won 😭

Wait THE FLASHBACKS ARE MAKING ME EMOTIONAL LIKE HE'S A MOSAIC OF ALL THE PEOPLE WHO SUPPORTED HIM TAUGHT HIM YOU GET WHAT I MEAN????

Gieve is surprisingly a good teacher, hot damn

Narsus and Elam and Alfarīd in the background of that scene!!

“Let them call me a coward. I've heard worse.” this line is so Gieve in ways I find difficult to articulate, it's just so him. Maybe it's that he doesn't care for stuff like honor and whatnot, he doesn't give a shit about those, and he's willing to go any lengths for the person he's loyal to. Looking at how he chose to make a villain out of himself in order to tap out of Peshawar before, yeah this tracks.

He only lowers his bow when it's clear Arslan has won.

Narsus turning back to nod at him! 👌

Oh god weapons do be going flying today, huh?

Okay, we all know there was no way Zandeh could've defeated Daryun, right?

But still, I couldn't help but wonder how much of a difference his new mace would've made in closing that gap of strength if his concentration hadn't been compromised by Hilmes' loss.

Like, he did say it's more suited to his strength so I couldn't help but speculate.

Him yeeting everything to the wayside in his desperation to get to his prince tho 👌

Arslan turns to Alfarīd knowing that Hilmes was the one who had killed her father... and Alfarīd understands that he, her friend, doesn't want to kill this man. They exchange knowing nods, and Arslan continues.

I really, really liked this little wordless exchange between them. The way Arslan doesn't forget Alfarīd, the way he turns to her, the way she understands him and the way she's willing to set her own grievances aside for the greater good... Sobs.

Zandeh's face after Arslan says, “But he bears responsibility for leading the Lusitanian army to this land and plunging my people into chaos. We will discuss this later. For now, find a room in the palace and wait there.” is... I don't know. It's doing something to me. Something about it just feels... raw. Vulnerable. Something like a kind of realization sinking in or maybe it's the adrenaline. Or maybe it's the adrenaline starting to wear off. Either way, it's quite something to behold.

Hilmes looking up, we don't get to see his eyes...

THEY'RE GOING UP THE TOWER.

Merlaine, Merlaine pls arrive first I need you to be with Arslan.

SHE SKIDS TO A HALT.

THERE HE IS.

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

“If my banishment were revoked, would that make me Crown Prince by your side once more... Your Majesty?”

YOUR MAJESTY. NOT FATHER.

I'm going to lose my mind.

HOLY SHIT THAT ESCALATED REAL QUICK

ANDRAGORAS STOP TRYING TO KILL THE BOY WTF

OH FUCK INNOCENTIS LOOKS FUCKED UP

No, legit, that face is creeping me out WTF

AND THEY BOTH WENT FLYING OUT THE TOWER HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIT

And that's it! That's the chapter! That's where it fucking ended!

Hoooooooly fuck

Now for some additional thoughts:

Gieve and Zandeh both came into clutch as protective forces for their princes this chapter. I highly approve.

And who can forget Saam? Ever the diplomat, beseeching for mercy for his prince.

The acknowledgement between Arslan and Alfarīd still gets me.

All his life, Arslan has been chasing Andragoras as a son, wanting for parental love and approval as Andragoras puts that distance between him and his “son”. But now? Andragoras is trying to invoke filial piety to get the sword, while Arslan takes a step back and puts an emotional distance between them. Your Majesty. Your Majesty. Poetic cinema.

(if you wanna see me talking about Andragoras putting distance between himself and Arslan, it should be under my reread tag: #arslan senki reread)

Howst the fuck did Innocentis go loose? He was zoinked out on illness and fever, and he was never that physically strong to begin with. I wonder if there was some help from Team Zahhak to get him loose beyond just controlling/manipulating him?

Aaaaaand that's all the thoughts I have rn, I think! Holy shit what a chapter.

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #arslan senki spoilers #Innocentis #arslan #gieve #narsus #elam #alfarīd #zandeh #saam #sam #andragoras #my fucking god

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ericdeggans · 7 months

Text

Why hoping Lily Gladstone won an Oscar does not equal valuing race over talent.

Social media is never a great place to have discussions about race and culture. The real issues at hand are way too nuanced and detailed for outrage factories like X/Twitter and Instagram to handle.

Still, I was disappointed to see so many people – perhaps willfully – missing the point online when discussion rose after the Oscars about Lily Gladstone failing to win best actress honors.

No doubt, a win for Gladstone – who would have been the first Native American woman to earn a major acting Oscar – also would have felt like a serious triumph for champions touting the power of diversity in film.

Feeling the love big time today, especially from Indian Country. Kittō”kuniikaakomimmō”po’waw - seriously, I love you all ❤️ (Better believe when I was leaving the Dolby Theater and walked passed the big Oscar statue I gave that golden booty a little Coup tap - Count: one 😉)

— Lily Gladstone (@lily_gladstone) March 12, 2024

Those of us who clock these things regularly knew that Emma Stone’s turn in Poor Things was most likely to spoil that scenario. Stone offered a showy-yet-accomplished performance as a singular character in an ambitious, creatively weird production. A much-loved past winner delivering a career-best effort, she was just the kind of nominee that Oscar loves to reward. And, as Vulture pointed out, modern Oscar voters seem to enjoy turning against expectations in big moments like this.

But when I expressed those feelings online – that Stone was marvelous and more than earned the award, but the Oscar academy really missed a chance to make history by overlooking Gladstone’s more subtle, quietly powerful turn in a better movie – the knives came out.

The gist of most negative reactions was the implication that I and others lamenting her loss were insisting that ethnicity should trump talent. As if the only or most important reason that an indigenous woman could be nominated for such a lofty award, is by people trying to bring social justice to the Oscars. (I guess Gladstone’s wins as best actress at the Golden Globes and Screen Actors Guild awards, among others, were also nods to diversity?)

As if it couldn’t be possible that perhaps -- just perhaps -- some racial cultural preferences were mixed up in Oscar voters’ attraction to the story of a beautiful, young white woman who has loads of sex while learning to define herself in a male dominated world.

What really disappointed me, however, was reading an analysis which reached all the way back to the 2017 Oscars to imply that one reason Barry Jenkins’ masterpiece Moonlight won best picture honors over La La Land was the pressure to bring social justice to the Oscars.

Talk about missing the point by a mile. What I’m driving at, when I advocate for contenders like Gladstone, Barry Jenkins and Jeffrey Wright, isn’t a finger on the scale to make up for past exclusion.

It’s a plea for Oscar voters to see these performances the way I and so many other people actually see them.

I still remember watching last year’s version of The Color Purple in a screening alongside lots of folks from Black fraternity and sorority organizations. And when the moment arrived where Danielle Brooks’ character intoned about her husband, “I loves Harpo — God knows I do — but I’ll kill him dead before I let him or anybody beat me,” it felt like the whole theater said those words with her. That’s how iconic those lines -- first spoken on film by Oprah Winfrey in the 1985 production – have become for Black America.

youtube

That same feeling came after I first saw Cord Jefferson’s brilliant American Fiction, centered on a frustrated, floundering Black writer who creates a stereotypical parody of a Black novel as a dark joke, only to see it become a best seller. I felt as if Jefferson had pulled the same bait-and-switch with his movie that his lead character managed onscreen – using the outrageous premise to draw us all into a more subtle and deliberately powerful story of a Black man struggling to connect with his family after huge losses.

I needed three attempts to get through watching all of Gladstone’s work in Killers of the Flower Moon. Not because the movie was so long I had to “get my mail forwarded to the theater,” like Oscars host Jimmy Kimmel joked. But because it was so hard for me to watch a film centered on the historic exploitation and murder of Native American people by white men.

It sounds like a simple idea, but it’s worth repeating: evocative moments in films will speak differently to different people.

Sometimes, when I’m pushing for a win in an awards category, or championing a particular project, it’s not because I’m putting a finger on the scale for the sake of equality. It’s because I’m more invested in that story than some others because of who I am. And I’m challenging some people, who might not see their cultural preferences as preferences, to consider exactly why they love one thing over another.

In many ways, it is sad to see great artists pitted against each other in these contests. Comparing the delightful, dangerous absurdity of Poor Things to the gritty, punishing tone in Killers of the Flower Moon feels like a fool’s errand, anyway.

But with so much that comes from an Oscar win – including proof that inclusion brings success, accolades and a great argument for more equity – it is important to understand why some people value some performances.

And part of living in a diverse society means valuing the wide range of opinions and reactions, not shrugging off those that don’t fit your worldview.

#oscars #gladstone #movies #racism #tv #Youtube

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asterjennifer · 3 months

Text

Reference

You woke up this morning with alerting senses in your belly roaming around.

Something felt off by the moment you stretched your limbs. A vibe inside the room that almost made you shudder without reason.

Confused, you figured it's just one of those mornings where you start off by feeling somewhat disoriented. Everyone had that from time to time, it wouldn't have been the first time to experience something similar.

Therefore you decided to scroll your phone for a while before getting up. But no matter how many cute cat videos popped up on your screen, the feeling stood in the room like an elephant.

Defeated and also unsure how to shake it, you just stood up. Maybe a little walk before having breakfast would help you out....

So you got ready for the day as per usual. Picking your clothes, your shoes, taking care of your appearance and teeth in the bathroom after brushing your hair. Just the typical procedure. You frowned after putting on the jacket. It's weird to not run into one of the twins when you're literally living in their bunker alongside them.

Normally, you'd either run into Saeyoung, being the kind soul that he his, preparing the breakfast for everyone. Or you'd meet Saeran already up due to his sleepless night. Sitting on the couch with a book between his hands.

Nothing though. Neither the former agent nor the bookworm were anywhere to be found. It only worsened this uncomfortable feeling crawling over your skin. Shaking your head the last time, you left the bunker to be kissed by the gentle sun rays. You smiled unconsciously, the warmth on your face immediately had some effect on your mood. Good, you thought. Now things would go back to normal.

Your walk didn't last long, but that wasn't the intention anyway. You preferred being on time to eat together at the table than roaming the streets already familiar to you.

You greeted an old lady on your way back. Sometimes you passed some interesting looking people, leaving you wonder what their story was and how they felt deep inside their hearts.

When you came back in, you finally heard noises coming from the kitchen. It made you smile. You never knew which twin you greeted, it's not that you had a favorite to see first. You liked to play a little guessing game with yourself about it.

And you picked Saeyoung today.

Although the weariness kept following you, you went up to lean into the kitchen frame to find the boy with black jacket and silly attitude facing you with his back. You were right in your guess.

However, he was weirdly silent. Saeyoung loved to listen to music while preparing food. He hummed tunes of older series or simply just tapped his foot on the floor to find a rhythm. There's nothing going on. He was only cutting carrots, pretty untypical for him to be so focused on only one task.

»Good morning, Saeyoung.« You chimed into the kitchen with a light voice.

The man wearing glasses turned around and you expect a smile to find. You're taken aback as your assumption was proven to be false. His eyes were half lidded in annoyance as he had a straight line of lips. It took you off guard so heavily, that you couldn't find your voice for a second.

»If you need the counter, give me five minutes. I'm almost done.«

What the... You blinked in confusion. Saeyoung turned back around, waiting for no answer since he went straight back to cutting. You had no idea what that kind of respond was, especially from him. This was more something that Saeran would say when he's busy.

»Um...« Unsure what's going on, you frowned. »Saeyoung.. Are you okay? You sound like you're in a bad mood.«

The guy in front didn't stop cutting, although his shoulders lifted just enough for you to notice that it was sigh. He waved his left hand in a manner that's close to being offensive.

»Yes, I'm fine. Now let me finish my salad.«

Clueless as to what's going on, you let it go for now. Something's definitely shady, regardless what he said about being okay. His tone of voice and word choice spoke otherwise. Perhaps he'd had a horrible nightmare that ruined his night.

You went back into the living room. This interaction didn't contribute anything to feel less uncomfortable, what in the world was going on? Your hand reached up to scratch your hair.

»(N)!« A happy voice brought your mind back to reality.

Before realizing, someone pulled you into a tight hug. You failed to catch your breath, instead a louder gasp left your lips. The affectionate gesture's luckily released before you could've blacked out from lack of oxygen.

»How have you slept? You good this morning?«

The redhead in front asked, to which you nodded amused.

»Yeah! I had a good morning until I almost got killed!«

You said with a humourous note to your voice. As you lifted your eyes to meet the happy face, you instantly froze in shock.

»That's fantastic,« Saeran said with a wide smile. »I slept like a stone tonight, for a second I thought I died when waking up.«

It was an attempt to make you laugh, but hearing his usually torn vocals actually bring out a loud laugh sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes shone so brightly blue that you could've mistaken them for the sky you just walked under a few minutes ago. The bags underneath his eyes somehow gone. Or overshadowed by his energized demeanor.

He continued starring at you, considering you couldn't help but stare at him in return. Yet his smile didn't vanish from his face, instead he lifted an eyebrow and bumped your shoulder carefully.

»What staring at, hm? I know I look good, but you don't have to leave your jaw open for me.«

The teasing tone underneath the bubbly voice that's not his, you couldn't help but take a step back. Then you frowned before checking him out.

Surely there's an explanation as to what's going on. Did they accidentally swapped their clothing? Did they have a bet you're unaware of, to see who's going to be one holding play pretend the longest? Or maybe, just maybe..

»You two are pranking me, aren't you?«

You asked cautious albeit firm. At this point you had no other reason for this to be happening. Perhaps you're still asleep? But then why did the sun on your skin felt so real? Your head started throbbing a tiny bit.

»Pranking you?« Saeyoung asked when coming out of the kitchen.

A salad bowl in the hand, serious expression on his face as if you'd just insulted him. Almost a hint of disgust by mentioning a prank. And that coming from none other than the Prankster himself.

He shook his head. »I rather go to a party than playing pranks.«

Saeran leaned his weight from both to one leg, lifting his arms cluelessly. »Why? Pranks are fun. They can give you a bit of pep!«

Saeyoung growled as his twin moved towards him, giving him a shove with the hip. Almost trying to bring some light air into the room.

At this point you're neither convinced nor uncertain they are simply messing with your sanity for whatever, inexplicable reason. You watched as Saeyoung rolled his eyes at Saeran, when he actually initiated a hug.

A real hug, mind you. He tried placing his arms around his older twin brother. Who happened to refuse affection from Saeran of all people. It only made him whine dramatically as a result.

»Alright.« You said, turning on your heels with a have of the hand. »I go to bed... I'm out.«

The twins left you alone after you closed the door. For a moment they only looked at each other before Saeran's facial expression changed into somewhat worrying feelings.

»Is she okay today...? She looked so irritated.«

He mumbled while pressing his fingers to his cheek. Saeyoung sighed deeply as he decided to pick the fork and finally eat his salad.

»I don't care.« He claimed dry. »I go and eat my food now.«

»Oh, can you give me a bite big bro?~ I'm really hungry..«

»Make your own food, for God's sake.«

»Aw man... You're really no fun.«

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renlyslittlerose · 1 year

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Last week was the one year anniversary of me posting my first obikin fic, and over the last year being a part of the fandom has brought me so much joy and happiness and enthusiasm once again. Some of you knew me before 2019 and were aware that I was working on my Masters in the Classics, which included a massive thesis. While working on the thesis I was also working part-time at the museum, as well as battling a few chronic illnesses - some of which still affect me today - all of which drained me physically and emotionally. When I had finished my thesis and graduated from the program I was well and truly burnt out.

2020 was rough for everyone, and I was contented to just exist without doing much of anything that could be seen as creatively productive. But then 2020 came and passed and I thought maybe I should get back on the saddle, and started working on my own original story. I fell off of social media, didn’t interact in fandom, and tried to grind out a story that wasn’t working like I had hoped it would. 2021 and I still wasn’t ‘feeling it’; I had gone from writing about 1-2k words a day to 500 words a week - if I was lucky. A part of me wondered if I was tapped out for good, that I didn’t have it in me anymore, and that my thesis was my last creative outlet - my last hooray. I know it sounds a bit dramatic, but when you go from creating almost every day since you were sixteen years old, to suddenly believe that the well has run dry is terrifying. Maybe I was done for good - maybe I wouldn’t create something I was proud of.

And then Kenobi came out. I was a massive prequels fan since I was nine years old and the Phantom Menace came out, and an even bigger Darth Vader fan, but I had never interacted with the fandom in any meaningful way. I was contented to just watch the films and the shows and leave it at that. But as I was watching I had the epiphany that Obi-Wan and Anakin were actually ~roommates all along. I started reading obikin fic, came back on tumblr to see what sort of fandom there was, and suddenly found myself with ideas again, and a desire to create something.

So I wrote my first fic ‘Sacred to the Gods’ based off of a thesis I wrote during my undergrad about the psychology of a Greek demigod. It took me about a week to write, but in that time I had a lot of fun - the words started to come more easily, the vibes were there, and the passion was slowly but surely returning. One fic turned into another, and then another, and suddenly I had written two multi-chaptered long-form fics, some shorter multi-chaptered ones, and a bunch of oneshots, all about our favourite duo.

And in the that span of time, not only was I able to rediscover my passion for writing and feel inspired again, but I met so many amazing, incredible, kind, passionate, creative people who welcomed me with open arms. I was used to fandom being sort of a gate-keepy thing, where if you were the new kid in town it would take you a while to work your way into any circles. But it didn’t happen with this fandom. I went up to a few people, held out my macaroni art, and was overjoyed to see them take it and immediately put it up on their fridge.

There are a lot of people I want to thank, and I should thank, from those who read my stuff, those who send me asks on tumblr, those who bookmark and kudos and comment, and those who followed me, but there isn’t any space to do all that. So I hope that a general ‘THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU’ will suffice. Thank you for giving me my passion back, thank you for supporting me, thank you for being an awesome community that has it’s issues, but still cares deeply about the art they’re creating, and who care about fostering a community.

However, there are a few people I would specifically like to address, because I don’t think this post would be complete without you. I’ll put it behind a cut because this post is already cumbersome:

@bi-wan || My beloved! You were the first person to follow me on tumblr after reading one of my fanfictions, and the first to reach out to me to be my friend. Thank you for reaching your hand out to me and dragging me into the fold. Because of you I’ve made so many good friends who I treasure dearly - including you. 🥰

@ragnarlothcat || I feel like you and Cam are a packaged deal, and so I thank you for being curious about me and checking out my work, and for allowing me to occupy both you and Cam’s comfy little raccoon haven. You’re so supportive, and your work was some of the first I read in the fandom which truly secured my desire to be a part of it. Thank you 💖

@intermundia || I’ve told you this before, but you were the first person I approached in the fandom when I decided I wanted to dip my toes into the experience, and your warmth and welcoming nature secured my desires to be a part of this group. The fact that you support my stories and are so passionate about it really fuels my desires to keep creating (as well as feeding my ego). Thank you for being such a good presence in the fandom.👑

@theseptemberist || I have a feeling that Will told you about me, and I am so glad that he did because we’ve struck up such a friendship that I can’t see myself without. Our chats on discord over the past few months have been wonderful in so many ways that are too innumerous to say here. Thank you for sharing your heart, and for being so kind and empathetic. And thank you for sharing your encyclopedic knowledge of fandom tea ☕

@unspuncreature || Just like Rag and Cam come as a team, you and Cal (and Wren, even though I’ve never spoken to her but feel like I know her) are the trio that delight and entertain. Thank you for your brilliant art and creativity, thank you for letting me bounce all my ideas off of you, and thank you for collaborating with me. You’re brilliant 💗

@kyberkenobi || Beyond the fact that your filthy brain inspires me and delights me, and the fact that you’re willing to goed me on when I come up with something that’s delightfully nasty, your maturity when it comes to fandom is refreshing. At the threat of sounding like a proud grandma, you’re still so young and yet you’ve got a lot of shit figured out - most importantly, that fandom is supposed to be for fun and write what you want to write. Can’t wait for us to finally collaborate one of these days 💕

@dininginspace || What can I say? You’re a delight, you’re incredibly funny, you’re kind and understanding, and you’re the best cheerleader a loser like me could ask for. The fact that you jumped on the Buffy bandwagon when I drove by on it secures you as one of my favourite people. Thank you so much for your early and continued support 🧛‍♂️

@nuandia || Thank you for chatting with me all the time; keep up your writing, it’s brilliant and worth it, even if you doubt it sometimes. 💖

@grapenehifics || I had just finished watching MASH when you commented on Moonlight Serenade. The noise I made when I saw your username, followed by the continued joy I get whenever I see you on my dash or in my inbox, or when I see you’ve posted something new for the world to enjoy. 🧡

@palfriendpatine66 || You’re a delight. You’ve got things figured out, and how you can write so much with the life you’ve got is incredible. Keep going - you’re a gem. 💎

@binaryeclipse || Love chatting with you on discord, and being able to throw out random things about Canada into the chat that doesn’t need explaining - you just get it. Especially when it comes to Alberta politics. It doesn’t always feel like a safe space out there when you’re an Albertan who loves her province but also hates so many things about it, but you make me feel as if I can be a contradictory mess and still feel as if I belong in Canada. Your muse will come back soon, I trust in this ✨

@treescape || Your work is sublime and an inspiration. I read your fics first when I went hunting for things to read, and was immediately captivated. When you followed me back and weren’t at all weirded out by me bounding over to you like an excitable golden retriever, I was very grateful - I am very grateful. Can’t wait to see what you create next. 💛

@starsdies || Thank you for listening to me; thank you for being so inspiring; thank you for helping with community events and exchanges. And thank you for streaming The Last of Us for me because I’m too cheap to buy HBO Max. 🙏

@tessiete || You fact-checked the details I put into Moonlight and all I can say is THANK YOU. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting too lost in the details, but its people like you who google that shit that makes me feel good about my obsessions. 🌸

#personal #obikin #thank you everyone #I know this is messy and gushy and gross but whatever #Im sick with a cold so I get to be mushy gushy

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laughingsapphic-creates · 1 year

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Inukag Week, day 4: Modern

Fun fact! I came up with this story idea over a year ago! Thank fkn inukag week for giving me a reason to bang out the details!

Even funner fact? I DID NOT MEAN FOR IT TO GET THIS LONG 😅 My coworker really came in clutch so I could write during my shift today. Everyone say thank you Angel

@inukag-week

~~~~~~

Wish on a Star

"Pleeeease, Inuyasha! It's just one evening!"

"No way in hell!"

Kagome trailed after him as he stomped away from the well, jaw clenched in irritation.

"Y'know, usually, this is all reversed," Sango pointed out from where she, Miroku, and Shippo watched the other two. Miroku nodded in agreement, remembering how just the day before, Kagome and stomped to the sacred well, Inuyasha demanding that she stay and ignoring her annoyed refusals.

"Come on! I've spent all week investigating jewel rumors! It wouldn't kill you to spend one night with me back home!"

"You're right. And now we have to go out and actually look for all those jewel shards! We don't have time to screw around in your weird world. And even if we did, I have better things to do!"

The tense silence was broken when Kagome scoffed.

"Y'know what? Fine!" She huffed, turning on a heel and storming over to the others.

"Finally- hm?" Inuyasha watched as Kagome stood in front of Miroku, crossing her arms.

"Miroku? How would you feel about coming on a double date with my friend and I back in my era?"

Inuyasha and Sango's jaws dropped, and Shippo's eyes bugged out of his head, but Kagome didn't acknowledge any of them, keeping her eyes focused on the monk.

For Miroku's part, he looked a bit surprised, but smiled after a moment, turning to slide up beside Kagome and slip an arm around her waist.

"Why lady Kagome, I'm flattered that you thought of me! I would be honored to accompany you and your friend-"

Three different hands seized Miroku's wrist before his hand could slide any lower on her hip, and Kagome stepped out of his grasp before releasing her hold.

"Yeah, a move like that'll get you arrested back home, so keep your hands to yourself."

"You cannot! Bring Miroku!" Inuyasha insisted, turning his glare from the lecherous monk to Kagome.

"I can bring anyone I damn well please, if you don't want to go! Sango could come with me!"

"You can bring other people through the well now, Kagome!? I'll go!" Shippo cheered, jumping from Sango's shoulder into Kagome's arms. Catching him easily, Kagome's gaze shifted away.

"I mean, in theory…" she hummed, offering an apologetic smile when she met his eyes. "But a double date is… well, it's for people closer to my age. I'd love to bring you, but you're a little young yet."

He'd begun to pout, but did giggle when she playfully booped his nose.

"What's this double date business about, anyway, Kagome?" Sango asked, interested now that time travel was on the table and Miroku wasn't.

"My friend Ayumi got asked out by a guy from our school. She doesn't know him very well and didn't want to be alone with him right away, so she asked me if I could bring my boyfriend and make it a double date. Since I, apparently, have the most relationship experience in my friend group," she admitted with a wince. It wasn't even technically the kind of relationship they thought it was, but it wasn't like she could lay out all the gory details for her fellow modern highschool girls.

"Do you really think you could bring someone besides Inuyasha to your time?" Sango asked.

"Well, back when Inuyasha and I first met, a demon comb sent a bunch of hair through the well. We had to fight it in the well house before passing back through," she recalled, tapping her cheek thoughtfully. "And then when Inuyasha sent me back without my jewel shards, I couldn't pass through, so maybe that's the key?"

Glancing over her shoulder at Inuyasha, she smirked just slightly.

"Hell, maybe I'll track down Koga! He's got shards built in, and I'm sure he would love to hold my hand at a festival for a few hours."

"Why you-!" Inuyasha growled, turning away and crossing his arms. "Even if you could find him before tonight, you wouldn't dare."

"Mmm, you're right," she admitted, earning a smug smile from the half demon. Until, of course, he caught sight of the taunting look on her face. "It'll take too long to find him. Probably faster to bring him here."

Turning to the fox in her arms, she batted kitten eyes at him.

"What do you say, Shippo? You got any little tricks we can use to get ahold of the wolves? I'll bring back all kinds of tasty festival food for you!"

"No. Nope, nu-uh, not happening," Inuyasha stated, snatching the kit out of her arms and covering his mouth. "Fine! Fine, I'll go! Just don't show that flea-bitten wolf where we live! We'll never be rid of him once he knows where to find you!"

"Oooh, thank you thank you thank you!"

Kagome threw her arms around him, causing warmth to erupt across his cheeks. Taking Shippo from his hands, Kagome pecked the kit's forehead before handing him to Miroku.

"We'll be back first thing in the morning, you have my word!"

And with that, they were off again, Kagome hauling the grumbling half-demon back through the well.

~~~~~~

Brushing a bit of cat hair from her light cotton shorts, Kagome popped the door to her room open, smiling when she spotted Inuyasha on the bed, messing with Buyo's paws.

"So what exactly is it we're doing today?"

"We're going to the star festival! There's a parade and food and games- Maybe I'll win you a prize. If you loosen up a little by the time we meet Ayumi, you'll have a good time."

"Not my forte," he bit out.

"Unfortunate," she sighed. Pausing for a beat, she reached out to carefully pull a longer strand of hair away from his face and tuck it back with the rest. "Have you ever thought about tying your hair back?"

"Only when it's hot out. Why?"

"You should try it," she hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair, letting the sideburns hang while pulling the rest gently away from his face. "You'd have to leave some down to cover for not having human ears while we're here, but I think it'd suit you."

"Whatever. Worry about your own hair," he said, batting her hands away. He was already fighting a flush, no need to make it worse. With a shrug, she let his hair fall from her fingers and moved to her bureau, picking up her brush. With another huff, he continued, "I don't know why I'm letting you drag me into this. Bad enough we're losing another day looking for jewel shards."

"Listen!" Kagome groaned, watching him in her mirror as she pulled the brush through her hair. "Between jewel hunting and studying, I don't actually get a lot of time to hang out with my friends from this time period! Despite how little I see them, they're important to me. Ayumi's never been on a real date before, and Yuka and Eri don't know much about this guy. She needs me, and I'm not going to let her down!"

She saw Inuyasha roll his eyes in the mirror, but blessedly, he stopped whining.

"And," she hummed, pushing back to her feet. "If that means we get to hang out eating festival food and playing some games while neither chasing nor being chased by demons, well, all the better, right?"

Inuyasha blinked in surprise, not missing the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She handed him a bandana, scratching gently behind one ear to make it clear what he was meant to do with it.

"Now, I just need to get dressed and then we can go. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes - mom's gonna help me with my yukata," she stated, turning for the door. "I can never get the bow right…"

Inuyasha watched her head back out through the door, waiting until he heard another door close behind her before he stood from the bed. Looking in the bureau mirror, he hesitantly reached up, pulling his hair back as she'd suggested, holding it in a high ponytail as he examined himself.

She'd left out some hair ties. It couldn't be that hard.

Another moment passed, and he picked up the brush.

~~~~~~

"Hey, you tied your hair back!"

Inuyasha looked up from the cat, the words "let's get this over with" on the tip of his tongue, until he actually spotted Kagome.

She stood in the doorway, summer yukata hugging her shape. It was a pastel green, dotted with dark lily pads, pink flowers, and bright red and white koi fish. He kind of got what the guy from that play Kagome was reading was on about now: It is the east, and Kagome is the sun.

"Uh, yeah. Figured I'd try it."

"I was right, it totally suits you," she beamed, stepping closer while her mom followed her into the kitchen.

"Alright, do you have your wallet?"

"Got it!" Kagome nodded, holding up her little drawstring purse. "Thanks again for the help, mom."

"Of course, sweetheart," the older woman smiled warmly, resting her cheek in her hand. "Oh, the two of you look so cute together. Let me get my camera."

"Mom! We gotta go!" Kagome insisted, blushing as her mother went to a hall cabinet.

"It'll just be a moment, Kagome. And how often do you have the occasion to wear more traditional clothes?"

"More than you might think," she muttered, sighing but smiling fondly when her mother returned.

"In this time period," she amended, looking through the viewfinder at them with a grin. "Alright, smile!"

Kagome did as asked, automatically reaching out to wrap an arm around Inuyasha's. She let her mother click the camera a few times, winding the dial in between.

"There, see? Barely a minute," she smiled, winding the dial one more time so she wouldn't forget. "Ooh, I can't wait to get these developed!"

"I'm sure they'll be great mom, but we've got to go meet Ayumi now."

"I know, I know. Here, you know how some of those games can be," she reminded her daughter, pressing a few extra bills into her hand. "You two have fun."

Kagome paused, shaking her head as her smile softened. She wrapped her arms around her mom, holding her tight.

"We will."

Inuyasha, feeling a bit awkward, moved to head for the door, but mama Higurashi was faster, seizing the shoulder of his robes and pulling him into the embrace.

"That goes for both of you."

"Um. Yes ma'am."

Giving a soft sigh, she released them.

"Alright. Alright! Get out of here before I go for the camera again!"

~~~~~~

"Kagome, hey! Over here!"

"Ayumi!"

The clack of her sandals on the pavement rose above the din of the street as Kagome ran to embrace her friend as quickly as she could in her more restrictive yukata.

"Oh my God, you look so beautiful. You're gonna knock this guy's socks off!" Kagome grinned. Ayumi's yukata was pale blue, with a yellow obi and flowers, and her dark curls were pinned up and back with matching flowers, and if Inuyasha thought it was far inferior to Kagome's, well, he kept that to himself, letting the girls exchanged greetings.

"Right. Well, Inuyasha, this is Ayumi. Ayumi, this is Inuyasha."

"The famous boyfriend! It's so nice to finally meet you!"

"Uh, yeah, you too." Inuyasha awkwardly shook the hand she offered.

"Kagome's told me so much about you! Is it true you nearly killed a guy that hit on her-?"

"AlrightwellAyumi, I think we should try to find this date of yours! I'm excited to hear more about him!"

"Takaoji's going to meet us closer to the festival," she assured, taking Kagome by the arm and dropping her voice to a smug whisper. "So we have a few blocks for you to tell me why you didn't spend more time telling us how freaking hot your boyfriend is!"

Kagome felt her face go warm, and though Inuyasha's expression didn't change, she did catch his ear perking at Ayumi's teasing.

The trio headed towards the colorful banners and loud chatter, Ayumi keeping hold of her friend and Kagome keeping Inuyasha's hand in hers so he couldn't run off.

"We have all the time in the world for that! I've heard hardly a thing about this guy of yours!" she defended, hoping to turn focus from herself and Inuyasha.

"Well…" Ayumi smiled shyly, going along without complaint. "His name is Mikoshiba Takaoji. Our year, class B, starter on the basketball team…"

By the time they reached the festival, Kagome knew all the sordid details. Takaoji was old fashioned but very romantic, and left a candied apple in her shoe locker along with the letter where he'd asked her to meet with him. They had met in the West courtyard after their chorus and basketball practices, respectively. He had timed it so the light of the descending sun had just started to go golden. He'd even brought flowers. Kagome gushed with her over the whole story, endlessly happy for her friend to have caught the eye of someone so thoughtful and considerate.

When they finally found him, Kagome already had a very high opinion.

"There he is! Hey Takaoji!"

The boy who turned at her call was a bit taller than Inuyasha, dressed in a simple navy yukata. He had mousey brown hair and sharp, handsome features that softened the instant he spotted Ayumi. Kagome could see just how infatuated the guy was. He clearly only had eyes for Ayumi, and Kagome could swear she saw hearts in them.

"We didn't make you wait long, did we?" Ayumi asked, a little worried at his lack of greeting.

"... Wow," was all that came out, breathless and smitten. "I mean, ah, no, not long. I just… wow. You look amazing."

Ayumi giggled, her face going bright red, and Kagome wished that she had thought to ask to borrow her mother's disposable camera.

"Oh! Um, thank you…" she murmured, getting a bit shy. Kagome wanted to stand back and give them another moment to be adorable, but her first backward step drew their eyes, and she cursed herself.

"Oh! Takaoji, this is my friend Kagome, and her boyfriend Inuyasha."

"Nice to meet you! I've already heard so much!" Kagome grinned, flashing Ayumi a teasing look. "All good things, I promise!"

"I'm relieved to hear it. Same to you." He turned to Inuyasha, offering a grin and a fist. "Good to meet you, man."

Inuyasha looked at the offered fist until Takaoji awkwardly lowered his hand. Shooting him a glare, Kagome elbowed the half-demon in the side.

"You too. Man."

Kagome sighed, knowing it was the best she was going to get.

"How about something to eat and drink before we get started? Gotta stay hydrated, and I think this one's a bit hangry," she teased, linking her arm with Inuyasha's.

"That's a good plan! I've been craving takoyaki since they started setting up the festival!" Takaoji agreed, offering his arm to Ayumi, who took it with a giggle.

They went to the first takoyaki stand they could find, and got a few bottles of ramune (water for Inuyasha - the carbonation turned him off) to drink while walking around, enjoying the decorations and atmosphere.

It didn't take long until they ran into a line of trees decorated with colorful papers.

"The tanabata are already pretty full, huh?" Kagome observed, watching an attendant refill the tables with the slips of paper.

"Well, it is half the fun of this whole thing," Ayumi stated, drawing the eye of her date. Takaoji flashed her a sweet smile.

"Do you wanna write something for the wishing tree?"

"Oh, definitely!"

The pair slipped away toward the table, chatting happily. Inuyasha's brow furrowed and he leaned down to whisper to Kagome.

"What's a wishing tree?"

"Exactly what it says. You write down wishes and tie them to the tree, and at midnight they're burned to send the wishes to heaven."

"Ain't it faster to just, y'know, make a wish?"

"Yeah, but wishes you just say out loud don't decorate trees for festivals," she pointed out, pulling him towards the table. He scoffed, but did stay close while she stopped to write her wish. His eyes scanned the other people around the table - kids and elderly and all ages in between. Ayumi and her date were a little further down, but there was a pair of girls in pink and orange yukata across from them that caught his eye.

"What are you gonna wish for?"

"The same thing I wish for every day; one more day with you~"

The first girl called her companion a cornball and threw a pen at her, and Inuyasha's gaze shifted down to the colored papers on the table.

When Kagome stood to tie hers on, Inuyasha stooped, scooping up a pen and a green strip of paper before he could talk himself out of it.

When he stood from writing his message, doing his best to ignore how warm his face felt, he suddenly felt boxed in.

"What'd you wish for?"

Inuyasha jolted at Ayumi's sudden presence, whipping around to look at her.

"I-I was just- uh.." His gaze flickered to Kagome by the line of wishing trees, and when he looked back, Ayumi's smile was a bit more knowing.

"I knew you were more romantic than she was letting on," she sing-songed, taking a step back to let him breathe.

"You- what?"

Ayumi set down her pen, humming thoughtfully.

"Yuka and Eri think I'm pretty naive. And I know I can be sometimes. But I've known Kagome since we were kids, so I know better than most that she's an amazing person with a good head on her shoulders. If she's kept you around this long, there must be something there worth sticking around for. I know you guys fight a lot, but she clearly cares about you. And when you make her happy, you make her really happy."

Inuyasha winced a little at the mention of their fights. He couldn't imagine that she had painted him in the best light to her friends after storming down the well in a huff so many times. He followed Ayumi's gaze, spotting Kagome now chatting with a (mildly terrified) Takaoji.

"Kagome wants to be with you," Ayumi continued, looking back at Inuyasha. "Even when it's hard or painful. Which is why I need you to make it as easy and painless as you can."

Inuyasha felt his ears droop under the cloth on his head.

"That being said," She hummed cheerfully, her smile turning somehow cold. "I have also heard plenty about this ex of yours. Beautiful, talented, nasty in a breakup? I understand that feelings about past relationships can be complicated, but get a clue. Kagome deserves nothing less than devotion. Figure your crap out. Because if you hurt her bad enough, I'll find you before she gets around to giving you another chance. I don't care how elusive you've been till now, I'll find you, and I'll ruin you. Are we on the same page?"

Inuyasha found himself swallowing hard. He generally wasn't scared of humans, but he could tell that Kagome's friend meant business. And no matter how much he liked Kagome's family, he didn't expect them to keep the well a secret if Ayumi's concerns about him were realized.

"The situation with Kikyo is… messy. We're working on it. The last thing I ever want is to hurt Kagome."

"Good."

Her expression relaxed again, and she looked to her friend and her date again.

"Would have been better if you kept the element of surprise, though. Why warn me?"

"It's only fair. Besides, shovel talk begets shovel talk," she added, nodding to the others. Kagome looked as chipper as ever, but Takaoji was pale as a ghost.

"You guys ready to check out some games?" Kagome asked, innocent as could be. Takaoji gave her a wary sideways glance, and Inuyasha wondered just what she'd told him. They started towards the game booths, and Inuyasha slipped away for just a moment, sliding the string on his paper around a branch before quickly returning to the group.

Behind him, a festival attendant, curious at the secrecy, couldn't help but check the slip.

Let me keep her. As long as possible.

~~~~~~

"Do you guys wanna do die cutting?"

"Die cutting?" Inuyasha asked, eyes lighting up as he reached for his sword. Kagome stayed his hand, glad that Ayumi's enthusiasm for the suggestion covered his excitement at the thought of pulling his weapon.

"Inuyasha," Kagome hissed, pulling him a step away and keeping her hand firmly over his on the hilt of his sword. "This does not require magic demon weapons! You cut out little shapes out of delicate candy!"

Inuyasha frowned, clearly disappointed. Kagome sighed.

"I don't know what you expected. It's a festival. There are no demons in this era, so there's no reason to expect a fight on your scale!"

"No demons? I seem to recall a certain Noh mask-"

"The Noh mask is an exception, not the rule. The worst that'll happen is we'll get mugged, and you don't need to draw a massive, physics-breaking sword to fend off a human mugger, right?"

Inuyasha pouted, but sighed.

"Fine."

"Thank you. Now do you want to try playing the right way?"

~~~~~~

After that, things went much more smoothly. Inuyasha took the games a little seriously at first, but by the third stall, he'd loosened up. Kagome hadn't seen him have this much fun since he and Sango started really letting loose while sparring, and that had been a while ago. They got through fish-scooping, yoyo water balloons, and super ball scooping without incident. Kagome wiped the floor with them all at the shooting range, no contest, and draped the long green dragon plush she won over Inuyasha's shoulders.

They stopped for grilled squid at another booth in between, and Inuyasha declared the yakisoba they got later "the next best thing to cup ramen", which Kagome had to explain was high praise coming from him. They even found a few more modern carnival games mixed in - Takaoji had Inuyasha beat at free-throws, but Inuyasha obliterated him at the High Striker. And sure, the guy running the thing was pretty miffed that Inuyasha had sent the bell flying. But when Inuyasha handed Kagome the giant plush shiba he had won with a look of such excitement and pride, well, she couldn't even find it in her to be mad.

"Man, where do you even get muscles like that?" Takaoji asked, somewhere between envious and awestruck at the display as they left the test of strength, the machine now closed for repairs.

"Years of training," he shrugged, brushing off the compliment but clearly enjoying the attention.

"Training in what, whacking boulders in half?" he laughed, taking a seat on a nearby bench. Ayumi settled beside him, happily cradling the smaller tanuki plush he'd won for her before Inuyasha broke the game. Inuyasha sat at the other end of the bench, with room between himself and Ayumi for Kagome. Kagome, however, stayed standing, setting the large dog plush in her seat.

"I think I'm going to grab a shaved ice. You guys want one?"

"Ooh, that sounds good!" Ayumi cheered, and Takaoji laughed and nodded in agreement.

"Great! What flavors?"

"Melon if they have it, red bean if not," Takaoji asked, pulling out his wallet. "Here, I'll cover Ayumi and I."

"No worries, my treat!" She assured, waving away the offered money. "Inuyasha?"

"Surprise me. I trust you," he assured, not missing the way her expression went fond at such a simple thing. After a moment, Ayumi stood back up.

"I want to see what they have before I decide. I'll go with you."

"We can all go, then."

"Nah, you guys can sit. We'll be right back," Ayumi insisted, giving Takaoji a sweet smile that silenced any argument.

As the girls disappeared into the crowd, Inuyasha waited just a beat before sliding closer to the other boy, moving the dog but leaving one seat worth of space between them.

"Listen kid," Inuyasha sighed, ignoring Takaoji's mutter of "we're the same age..". "I don't know Ayumi from Adam. She's Kagome's friend, I just met her today." His gaze shifted to the other boy, pinning him to the bench. "But she's important to Kagome, and that's important to me. You've been all good and sappy all day, and that's great, but you better stay that way. Between me and Kagome, if you do anything at all to hurt that girl, you won't live long enough to regret it, are we clear?"

"C-crystal…" The taller boy promised, giving a nod. Inuyasha was a little annoyed that he didn't look half as scared as when Kagome threatened him, but it was probably for the best. He could already see the girls through the crowd again, and he'd rather not have to explain why this guy looked sick.

"See? You barely had time to miss us," Kagome laughed, plopping down on Inuyasha's other side and very pointedly not asking about why he'd moved, instead offering him a cup of shaved ice. "Here, I got you mango. I don't think you've tried it before."

"You've never had anything mango, Inuyasha?" Ayumi asked, sitting a bit more cozily with Takaoji and giving him his cup.

"Haven't really thought too hard about it," he said, figuring it was better than saying he'd never even heard of mango. He couldn't remember Kagome bringing anything with that flavor, or if she had, Shippo got to it before he had a chance.

He took a bite and hummed, smiling around the spoon.

"Hey, that's pretty good!"

"Told you so."

"Did not!"

"Whatever you say," Kagome sighed with an eyeroll, holding up her spoon and cup in surrender. "Oh, we've got to stop at a taiyaki stand before we leave. I promised Shippo I'd bring him back something sweet."

"Who's Shippo?"

"A bratty pain in the ass," Inuyasha smirked, taking a large spoonful of dessert.

"His little brother," Kagome amended, patting Inuyasha's shoulder as he groaned through his brain freeze.

Once the shaved ice was gone and the taiyaki purchased, the group figured it was time to disperse for the evening. Takaoji and Ayumi's curfew was fast approaching, and the last trains would be leaving soon.

"You sure you'll be okay getting home?" Kagome asked as they reached the station.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Takaoji's gonna walk me once we get to my stop," she assured, a bit shy but clearly pleased with how things turned out.

"He seems like a really good guy. I'm happy for you, Ayumi."

"Right back at you!" She chirped, giving Kagome's hand a squeeze and smiling warmly. "For all your gripes about him, it's obvious you both really love each other. Eri and Yuka were super worried, you know."

Kagome felt her eyes widen and her face warm.

"Ayumi! The train's leaving!"

"Coming!"

"Call me as soon as you get home!" Kagome ordered, pulling her into a final hug.

Ayumi hugged back quickly and rushed off with a nod and a wave, jumping through the doors moments before they closed. Kagome hurried back towards the entrance where she'd left Inuyasha. She hadn't felt like explaining that the train was not, in fact, a demon, and was glad for her foresight, after what Ayumi had said.

She knew she could be a bit obvious with her feelings for Inuyasha. Even if he didn't see it, everyone else seemed to. But Inuyasha? Sure, she hoped, and occasionally had moments where she really thought, but she didn't really believe it, did she? He was her friend. He protected her, got defensive of her, even trusted her, which not many people could say, though the number was growing. But love her? So obviously that Ayumi, who'd never met him before that day, could see it?

"They gone?"

She looked up from her musings, spotting Inuyasha leaning on one of the handrails at the top of the stairs, massive stuffed dog at his side.

"Yep. We can head back now," she nodded, letting him fall into step beside her as they turned for home. "Thanks for being such a good sport about all this. I know you weren't really enthusiastic about it at first, but you ended up having a pretty good time, right?

"Yeah, I guess that wasn't so bad."

"Good."

"... Still think it would've been more fun with Koga?"

Kagome rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you know I was never actually going to invite Koga, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"I mean it! I asked you to come with me first because I wanted you to be my date. I wouldn't have even thought to ask Miroku if he hadn't been right there while you were making that whole big stink about it," she insisted, pulling him to a stop by the arm so he would look at her. "Besides, those wolves might live in a waterfall, but they've never bathed properly in their lives."

The scoff he gave this time sounded more like a laugh and she smiled at him.

"I wanted you here. I still want you here. And… as fun as it would be to have the others visit my side of the well, if only one other person can pass through, I'm glad that it's you."

Her hand slid down Inuyasha's arm, fingers lacing neatly between his. Inuyasha felt his face go warm, but he closed his hand around hers and gave a soft squeeze.

"Yeah," he murmured, "me too."

Kagome beamed at him, pulling him back into the sparse flow of pedestrians with their hands still linked.

They only made it about ten paces before Inuyasha stopped.

"What's up?"

He pointed upward.

The electric sign overhead flickered, a dark spot in the top reflecting the colored lights.

Wedged into the sign, Kagome could make out the outline of the bell from the top of the high striker.

"Oh. So that's where it ended up."

"Didn't go as far as I thought."

Kagome snorted. Inuyasha's shoulders shook. All it took was a glance at one another before they devolved into raucous laughter, leaning into each other in an effort to stay standing.

~~~~~~

Funnest fact: when I originally came up with this concept, I doodled the high striker bell stuck in the sign with Kagome and Inuyasha looking up at it, and the sign said kung pow penis

Edit: grammar/punctuation/wording

#Happy pride everyone! enjoy some background lesbians #if you caught the Letterkenny reference we should be friends #inuyasha #inukag #inukag week #inukag week day 4 #inukag week 2023 #tayto writes

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