#austin + ines

[maxfriedss]

the hug wow me and @volpeenthusiast part two actually

[dinosaurwithablog]

What a top of the sixth!! Aaron Judge starts it off with his 14th home run of the year...Bellinger gets the walk... Volpe hits a double... Wells gets the sac fly... Volpe steals third... Dominguez draws a walk... Cabrera pinch hits and gets Volpe home with a sac fly to tie the game, 4-4.... Peraza gets his second home run of the year with a go ahead 2 run homer to left field getting Dominguez home!!! What a great inning for the Yankees!! It's now, 6-4, Yankees!! My boys!!! 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Let's go, Yankees!!!!!

[austin-bus-man]

Back when I was on the Food Network with Guy Fieri on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives!

It was filmed at The Beestro, in downtown Santa Fe New Mexico!

If you’d like to watch the episode, here’s the link!

Season 30, episode 13 - Far-Flung Flavor

[fieriframes]

[So I just got done shooting "Triple D" in Austin, Texas, and I knew that I was only about 30 minutes away from the great town of Taylor. You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad "Triple D" barbecue joints.]

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Announcing the Picks and Shovels book tour

This week only, Barnes and Noble is offering 25% off pre-orders of my forthcoming novel Picks and Shovels.

My next novel, Picks and Shovels, is officially out in the US and Canada on Feb 17, and I'm about to leave on a 20+ city book-tour, which means there's a nonzero chance I'll be in a city near you between now and the end of the spring!

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865908/picksandshovels

Picks and Shovels is a standalone novel starring Martin Hench – my hard-charging, two-fisted, high-tech forensic accountant – in his very first adventure, in the early 1980s. It's a story about the Weird PC era, when no one was really certain what shape PCs should be, who should make them, who should buy them, and what they're for. It features a commercial war between two very different PC companies.

The first one, Fidelity Computing, is a predatory multi-level marketing faith scam, run by a Mormon bishop, a Catholic priest, and an orthodox rabbi. Fidelity recruits people to exploit members of their faith communities by selling them third-rate PCs that are designed as rip-off lock-ins, forcing you to buy special floppies for their drives, special paper for their printers, and to use software that is incompatible with everything else in the world.

The second PC company is Computing Freedom, a rebel alliance of three former Fidelity Computing sales-managers: an orthodox woman who's been rejected by her family after coming out as queer; a Mormon woman who's rejected the Church over its opposition to the Equal Rights Amendment, and a nun who's quit her order to join the Liberation Theology movement in the struggle for human rights in America's dirty wars.

In the middle of it all is Martin Hench, coming of age in San Francisco during the PC bubble, going to Dead Kennedys shows, getting radicalized by ACT UP!, and falling in love – all while serving as CFO and consigliere to Computing Freedom, as a trade war turns into a shooting war, and they have to flee for their lives.

The book's had fantastic early reviews, with endorsements from computer historians like Steven Levy (Hackers), Claire Evans (Broad-Band), John Markoff (What the Doormouse Said) and Dan'l Lewin (CEO of the Computer History Museum). Stephen Fry raved that he "hugely enjoyed" the "note perfect," "superb" story.

And I'm about to leave on tour! I have nineteen confirmed dates, and two nearly confirmed dates, and there's more to come! I hope you'll consider joining me at one of these events. I've got a bunch of fantastic conversation partners joining me onstage and online, and the bookstores that are hosting me are some of my favorite indie booksellers in the world.

BOSTON (Feb 14): Boskone, 4PM, Westin Boston Seaport District

BOSTON (Feb 14): Brookline Booksmith with KEN LIU, 7PM, 279 Harvard Street, Brookline

VIRTUAL (Feb 15): YANIS VAROUFAKIS, sponsored by Jacobin and hosted by David Moscrop, 10AM Pacific, 1PM Eastern, 6PM UK, 7PM CET

MENLO PARK (Feb 17): Kepler’s Books with CHARLIE JANE ANDERS, 7PM, 1010 El Camino Real

LOS ANGELES (Feb 18): Diesel Bookstore with WIL WHEATON, 630PM, 225 26th Street, Santa Monica

SEATTLE (Feb 19): Third Place Books with DAN SAVAGE, 7PM, 17171 Bothell Way NW Lake Forest Park

TORONTO (Feb 23): Another Story, 630PM, 315 Roncesvalles Ave

NYC (Feb 26): The Strand with JOHN HODGMAN, 7PM, 828 Broadway

PENN STATE (Feb 27): Kern Auditorium, 7PM, 112 Kern Building

DOYLESTOWN (Mar 1): Doylestown Bookshop, 12PM, 16 S Main St

BALTIMORE (Mar 2): Red Emma’s, 2PM, 630PM, 3128 Greenmount Ave

DC (Mar 4): Cleveland Park Library with MATT STOLLER, 630PM, 3310 Connecticut Ave NW

RICHMOND (Mar 5): Fountain Bookstore with LEE VINSEL, 6PM, 1312 E Cary St

AUSTIN (Mar 10): First Light Books, 7PM, 4300 Speedway/43rd

BURBANK (Mar 13): Dark Delicacies, 6PM, 822 N. Hollywood Way

SAN DIEGO (Mar 24): Mysterious Galaxy, 7PM, 3555 Rosecrans

BELFAST (Mar 24) (remote): Imagine! Festival with ALAN MEBAN, 7PM UK

CHICAGO, Apr 2: Exile in Bookville with PETER SAGAL, 7PM, 410 S Michigan Ave, 2nd floor

BLOOMINGTON, Apr 4: Morgenstern Books, 6PM, 642 N Madison St

PDX, Jun 20 (TBC): Powell’s Books (date and time to be confirmed)

I'm also finalizing plans for one or two dates in NEW ZEALAND at the end of April, as well as a ATLANTA date, likely on March 26.

I really hope you'll come out and say hello. I know these are tough times. Hanging out with nice people who care about the same stuff as you is a genuine tonic.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/06/picks-and-shovels-tour/#19-cities-plus-plus

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This stunning 1905 mansion in Chicago, IL is not in the best neighborhood, East Garfield Park, but someone who lives in Chicago said that it's not bad enough to warrant such a LOW price. Someone has applied to buy it, and it's only been on the market for 18 days, but they are still showing it in case the deal falls thru. 6bds, 3.5ba, 5,832 sq ft, $485k. FYI: Systemic disinvestment in communities like Austin, East Garfield Park and West Garfield Park has led to population loss and gentrification over the years. 

Look at this entrance. The millwork is phenomenal, the floors are original, and that burled wood! Plus, look at the brass railings.

Isn't this original working fireplace magnificent? Look at the arch and the mosaics.

It needs a little cleaning, polish, and it will be stunning. The lighting is also original.

The foyer. You know, call me crazy, but it can't be that bad of a neighborhood if no one broke into those original glass doors.

Just look at these arches. Wainscoting, too. The floors are original.

This dining room! The tile floor, built-ins, fireplace, and that raised nook. Just wow. It's being sold as-is, but hey. All it needs is some cleaning up, it's all original.

Isn't this different? I wonder what this is. Maybe a stage for a small chamber music ensemble to entertain the guests?

The kitchen was redone at some point, but it's not terrible. (It's the same footprint, maybe the tile is original, counters are marble.) You can work with it.

This large room has a gorgeous fireplace, built-in shelving and leaded glass windows.

Check out the home office shelving and fireplace. Even the original mirror is intact.

The wood is so dry- it really needs some oil and maybe a coat or two of preservative.

This home deserves some TLC. Looks like they replaced some walls here. This is nice and light- beautiful fireplace and built-ins.

Oh, I love this big, vintage bath. This is amazing.

The bedrooms are very large.

This bath looks like it has a black marble sink. Not bad at all.

Looks like they put some shelving around this fireplace.

The attic level is finished. There's a fireplace up here, too, and look at the arches.

This bath is in good condition.

Someone started to finish the basement, so there's so much potential here.

Porte cochere.

They don't show any gardens, but the lot is 9,375 sq ft.

The street doesn't look that bad- nice big front porch. The 2 story coach house in the back can be an apt., guest house, or art studio. I think it's a steal.

History: The home was built by a gambler-

https://www.redfin.com/IL/Chicago/3234-W-Washington-Blvd-60624/home/13261182

[rose-of-red-lake]

Leslye Headland cares more about the Sith than the Jedi. I think her particular fascination is pretty undisputed at this point.

She explicitly says she wanted to write a Dark gothic romance featuring the Sith. And she got as much money as Dune 2 to do that. She got an enormous gift to tell the story she wanted. Okay. Fine. Not my cup of tea. But kudos to her for somehow collecting all those coins.

However, as a consequence of her lack of care for the Jedi, she ends up gleefully twisting them to fit her own power fantasy.

For example from the Collider interview we learned:

How the Jedi became stand-ins to attack the "institution" (of her choice, likely a religious one)

That the Jedi were used to critique patriarchy, with the Jedi master-to-padawan relationship somehow analogous to sexist father and oppressed daughter.

That Anakin murdering Tuskens and keeping it a secret inspired how Vernestra kept the Brendock scandal a secret (and that Vern is on a tragic arc too).

That she roots for Mae because the Jedi would never hold themselves accountable.

How the Jedi destroy children's worlds and how empowering it can be when, for example, they reclaim the saber that killed their parents.

How Sol and the Jedi caused Osha's loneliness.

That Sol talking about his love for Osha somehow robbed her of her agency? The agency Osha uses to join forces with the man who kidnapped her, killed her friends, and tried to kill her sister the previous day.

How she's using Senator Rayencourt as the voice of reason, and an audience stand-in, who asks "legitimate" questions about the Jedi having too much power.

That the Jedi have become cluelessly unaware of how they are perceived or that they could do wrong, because they've relied too long on their high status.

How the Jedi have always been "extremely flawed" (from the GQ interview)

A lot of this is not just divisive or cynical. It's creepy?

Headland wanted a dark Jane Austin romance featuring the villains in Star Wars - okay fine. I still think it could have been done without burning her Jedi Barbies to create new canon. I mean...its just brutal.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: a string of break-ins, Austin Baxter had told Sandra Nears, not that you'd been aware of that. in fact, you hadn't heard anything about it until the problem had been brought to your doorstep, so to speak.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.12

The pitter-patter of rain on your window roused you a few minutes ahead of your alarm. 6:15AM. It was lightening outside, though barely, daybreak greyed by the padding of stormclouds that swept the expanse of Split River sky.

You regretted telling Wally you'd meet him early, the nest of your comforter and pillows seducing you to stay five more minutes. But five would roll into ten would turn into twenty if you didn't do something about it, so, glumly, you tossed your covers to the side and dragged yourself out of bed.

Thirty minutes later—clean, dressed—you sat in the front porch swing and sipped a cup of decaf from an oversized mug that announced WEIRD MOMS BUILD CHARACTER. Sure they did, you thought sarcastically, and anger wasn't a trauma response.

You wanted to believe your mother was doing her best with what she'd been given but, when you really thought about it, you knew she could've done better. Had had the opportunities and the tools and the support to do better.

It was strange how you'd only noticed all those little inconsistencies and second-thought I love you to the moons in the last few days. Like you'd suddenly woken up from a dream. You'd suffered dissociation a lot since... Since. But this felt different enough that you could recognize it wasn't that.

Perhaps it was as simple as personal growth. Maddie's 'disappearance' had shaken a lot of things loose for a lot of people, not just her friend group, and you wouldn't have been surprised if it was also responsible for opening your eyes to things that'd been easier to stay blind to. Like your mother and her fake practice with her fake credentials and her fake sympathy.

You thought of Maddie's own mother—a drinker, your great-aunt had mentioned once—and how she'd failed to protect her daughter.

From a man everyone believed could be trusted, your brain reminded you. How could Maddie's mother have known, liquored up or not, when no one else had? Andrew trusted Mr. Anderson with his life.

Even you'd confided in Mr. Anderson with your struggles. After school, overwhelmed by assignments because your mother had roped you into helping her with a client. Just turn off the breaker at 12:01AM exactly, then you can go to bed. (Why the hell Ginny allowed your mother to pursue that shit, you'd never know.)

Maybe it wasn't as dark as you and Simon thought it was. Maybe Mr. Anderson had given Maddie the money to get away from her mother. Maybe someone else was to blame for Maddie's ghost being trapped in an In Between. If so, who?

You gently rocked the porch swing with your foot, the other tucked under you, staring into your now lukewarm coffee.

Not Simon, definitely. He seemed to be going insane trying to unearth what'd happened to Maddie. That opened another can of worms: Could he see Maddie's ghost? You'd tried to glean whether or not it was possible last night in the park. He'd said a couple of things that'd supported the idea, but, then again, it could've also been absolutely nothing.

Dead Grandpa John had even been on a stroll nearby and Simon hadn't looked at him once.

You needed a plan. Would ask Wally later if he was interested in a little experiment to see if Simon shared your abilities.

The murmur of a car's engine drew you into the present and you sat up straighter on the porch swing, maneuvering yourself so you could peer down the road. At barely 7AM, the neighborhood was the kind of quiet that lingers in the morning, making even the slightest noise much louder than it would've otherwise been.

When the police cruiser pulled into your nextdoor neighbor's driveway, you stood to lean against a post for a less obstructed view. The front door opened behind you, Aurora joining you on the porch with her mug of tea, the floral smell wafting up your nose and itching your nostrils.

"I don't know how you drink that stuff," You commented, giving the mug a disgusted side-eye.

Aurora scoffed, "Oh yeah, because you didn't drink this every morning," and slotted into place beside you, her eyes following the Sheriff as he hopped up your neighbor's stairs and rang the doorbell.

You pinched your lips and scowled at her, "I've evolved."

"Sure you have." Aurora's amusement transformed into a polite smile when she noticed the Sheriff waving at you and her.

"Good mornin'," He called across the expanse of yard between your house and your neighbor's.

"Morning!" You and Aurora sang back, shamelessly maintaining your overtly nosy position to watch the scene unfold.

Your neighbor, Darcy Behr, answered the door moments later. You couldn't see Darcy from where you stood, the woman tucked into her foyer, probably not yet put together for the day, but you heard the Sheriff introduce himself and apologize for the early hour.

"Just following up about the call you made last night. I need to ask you some questions if that's okay." The Sheriff said, donning his best customer service smile.

Darcy had obviously stepped aside in accord since the Sheriff disappeared into the house after telling you and Aurora to, "Say hi to your mom for me!"

"Okaaay~!" You both emphasized how were not going to do that by noisily slurping your drinks in unison until Darcy's door closed with a woody clap behind the Sheriff.

"Have you ever actually seen Darcy?" You asked, turning to lean against the porch banister. Searching your memory, you couldn't recall a single instance you'd seen your neighbor beyond a figure in a massively brimmed hat and an oversized feathery robe once two summers ago.

Aurora shrugged, "Yeah. I mean, I haven't spoken to her in awhile, but I see her before I leave for work sometimes." She gave you a studious look then, as if sizing you up. "You've been asking a lot of weird questions lately. Is everything okay?"

"You mean apart from my friend going missing and the police are treating it like a simple runaway case?" You gave Aurora a tight, plastic smile, "Oh yeah, everything's totally great."

"And you don't think it is a runaway case?"

You stayed silent for a moment, unsure if you should share even an opinion to the contrary. Obviously, you couldn't tell Aurora about Maddie being a ghost. Couldn't risk it getting to your mother or Ginny. So what was the point of sharing anything at all?

You shook your head, "I dunno what to think." You took a sip of your coffee and then asked, "Why's Austin at Darcy's anyway?"

"Probably following up about the break-in last night." Aurora guessed.

Your eyebrows shot up, "Break-in?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. Too bad you missed it..." Her expression turned that smarmy kind of superior; like she knew something about you that you hadn't wanted her to know.

"You didn't think to mention it at dinner?"

"You were in a mood!" Aurora defended, "Too busy angsting over having to leave your boyfriend." She put her wrist to her brow in a dramatic display, whining, "Where for art thou?"

She'd seen you and Simon on the swings last night; had shouted at you through an upstairs window to get your ass inside before your food got cold.

"Oh my god, Simon is not my boyfriend." You hated how petulant you sounded, but, seriously, big sisters had a way of bringing out the worst in their younger siblings.

Saying the word boyfriend aloud unintentionally summoned thoughts of Wally; his lopsided grin and warm brown eyes. How his hands had gripped your thighs, hips, waist, ass. The way he'd so easily manhandled you into his lap and ground you against him—

Aurora smirked and pressed her hand to your forehead as if checking for a fever. "Oooh, but you do have a boyfriend?" She chortled, "Feel you, oh my goodness! All gushy and pink and awkward, I am living!"

You shoved her hand away, "Shelve the empathy, please," and narrowed your eyes at her, "I hate it when you do that."

The front door creaked open again to reveal Dave, Aurora's newly minted husband. He stepped outside holding a cup of the same grandma's perfume tea and sidled up to her, exuding casual affection and sappy smiles, pecking her cheek before he bid you good morning.

You tipped your mug at him in salute and took a generous sip of your coffee to avoid having to say anything.

You didn't dislike Dave. He was a really nice guy. Like, stupidly nice. Ultra-polite and sympathetic and friendly. He used words like dagnabbit unironically, and wore chinos, and literally wouldn't hurt a fly. A spaniel of a man who fetched for Aurora before she even knew what it was she needed.

He was just...

so...

Dave.

Also, he was completely clueless about everything your family's rich, connected heritage. Before the wedding, he'd been fed a story that made your mother's hustle seem morally righteous. Everyone grieves differently, your mother had told him, hand on her heart, I just do what I can to ease the process.

He'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, believing your mother was a saint whose clients sought her out for unconventional therapy. Poor, dumb puppy.

You moved by Dave and Aurora to collect your phone from where you'd left it on the porch swing. Checked the time: 7:15AM. Time to go if you didn't want to be late. Your backpack was already in the passenger seat of your sister's car, but you still had to grab a jacket and the keys.

You stepped into the foyer and plucked the keys off one set of hooks, your jean jacket from another, then returned to the porch where you forced Aurora to take responsibility for your half-empty mug. She accepted it with a snide look.

"Thanks again, Rory!" You said, jingling the keys at her before skipping down the front steps.

Aurora sing-songed, "Say hi to your boyfriend for me!" For the sake of embarrassing you because sisters sucked like that, no matter how much older and more mature they were supposed to be.

You scoffed, rolled your eyes, and returned, "I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Try telling me that without smelling like vanilla blossom!"

"Smelling like what?" You heard Dave ask, to which Aurora patted his cheek and dismissed him completely.

"Nothing, sweetie."

Poor. Dumb. Puppy.

As you backed out of the driveway, you feigned almost hitting the mailbox just to see the horror on Aurora's face, gliding expertly into the road after she screamed murderous intent at you.

"That's what you get for being a bitch~!" You yelled and thrust your middle finger out of the sunroof, waving goodbye with it.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally strolled through the hall, muscles loose and hair still damp from the hot shower he'd just taken.

A very long, languid, private shower that had involved a slick-soapy fist and fantasies of you wearing nothing but his varsity jacket. Mouth gaped in pleasure, head thrown back, nails biting crescents into the meat of Wally's shoulders as you rode him. He thrusted into you, slow, deep, ironclad arm around your waist to keep you where he wanted you. The thumb of his other hand rubbed your clit, pressing in, dragging out, as you whimpered, "too much," oversensitized after he'd taken his time eating you out.

Fuck, he wanted you. Had spent last night dreaming it, and then spent this morning outlining all the ways he'd take you apart until you begged him to stop. But he'd keep going. He'd fuck you until you reeked of him, were covered in him, filled by him. A soft and pliant and beautiful mess.

Wally was definitely at risk of developing a problem, already addicted to the way you didn't look right through him. He couldn't wait for you to arrive, had been up late like a kid on Christmas, counting down the hours. The clock at the end of the hall indicated it was time he headed to the parking lot, and his heart skipped a beat.

As he walked, he noticed a flash of movement inside a classroom and stopped to inspect. Wally opened the door, peeked around the doorframe, his brow furrowing in confusion as he watched Maddie rifle through the contents on the lowest shelf of the supply closet.

She was dressed in her usual attire with the addition of the oversized black sweater she'd entered the metaphysical world in though didn't usually wear. Her hair was more disheveled, even a bit greasier, which...weird.

While he enjoyed the act of getting clean, showers weren't actually necessary for the dead. Their last image in life preserved for all eternity. Sure, they could change their appearance; had some autonomy over it throughout the day (once, he and Rhonda had tried stick-and-poke tattoos. It'd been painful and the results horrendous, but worth trying again).

They could run miles on the track, go into anaphylactic shock, beat each other bloody... It didn't matter. They never changed, their bodies doing a factory reset as soon as their attention drifted to something else.

"Hey." Wally greeted, stepping further into the room, watching in interest as Maddie went about whatever the hell she was doing. "You good?"

She paused briefly but didn't turn to face him, instead crouching to pull open the cabinets beneath the shelves. Wally couldn't be certain, but Maddie seemed off; her presence heavier somehow. A similar sensation as the one that nagged at him when the hall was packed with living students. Like he had to make room for them.

"Does she feel different to you at all?" Your words echoed in his mind. Was this what you'd meant?

Wally glanced at the clock hanging over the chalkboard and realized he had two minutes to get to the parking lot. He didn't want to waste time analyzing Maddie's weird energy and shifted back to the door.

"Alright, well, great chat. Good luck with all of...that," Wally said, "Can't wait to hear about it later." Because Maddie would explain in Group why she was snooping through a classroom. Or, at least, she'd ask a relevant question that forced her to explain herself, as had been the case up until now.

He shook off the feeling of not right that shivered through him and headed for the parking lot, quickening into a jog once he pushed through the front door.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The rain had stopped by the time you reached the school. The parking lot was practically deserted with only a handful of other cars stationed about. Most of those few in the reserved slots near the door. Teachers. Maybe Principal Hartman or Mr. South.

You pulled into a spot further from the building, preempting how packed the lot would be once classes were in session. As decent a driver as you were, trying to maneuver Aurora's boat of an SUV out of any tight space was a nightmare you wanted to avoid. Literally. Aurora's abilities extended to manipulating emotions and she'd have a trip making you believe the government or aliens or both were out to get you.

Although, honestly, with the anvil that had just been dropped on your head, you'd take a little high-key paranoia over the guilt that had inflated your stomach like a lead balloon.

Cutting the engine, you took a moment to sit with the text you'd received from Xavier on the way in. The text-to-speech had done little to dilute the gravity of what he'd sent, and it had spurred more unanswered questions about what had gone down last Friday.

"We found this in the woods near the school. There are more prints leading to a service road. We're getting somewhere, kiddo, I can feel it." The attached photo was of Maddie's ticket to Night of the Living Dead, stamped with a muddy boot print like it'd been dropped and trampled in a harrowing escape.

Your mind raced. Tried to connect the dots. Leads like red strings linked one fact to the next, the conspiracy board turned into a Robert Forman artwork, yarn-bombed to hell the more theories you added to it.

Slumping over the steering wheel, you rested your head in the cradle of your arms and clamped your eyes shut. A memory blotted across the back of your lids, ink on water, and the guilt in your gut worsened.

You walked with Hana and Eli, Mathilda several feet ahead of you as she barreled into the APEX. Night of the Living Dead was her favorite franchise, a diehard zombae from head to toe who had dressed the part of Barbara for the night's event. She'd bunched her hair under a blonde wig and had acquired vintage articles to piece together the perfect outfit.

Meanwhile, you and the others had gone for more of an homage. Faces painted sickly and pale, donned in matching white tees with the movie poster printed on the front. Yours had been three-of-yous too big, having left the order up to Eli, but you'd managed to tailor it into a decently fitted mini-dress. Threw on a pair of laddered, black tights and tall chelsea boots; and topped the ensemble off with your signature leather jacket. Saved it.

"Oh~ my god you guys are so slooowww!" Mathilda complained, rolling from her heels onto the balls of her feet impatiently.

You shook your head and cast about you, signaling to her how empty the concessions area was. "There are seven people here, Tilly, including us. I think we're fine."

Although Split River had a healthy population of horror fans, you didn't expect them all to swarm the APEX for the first of its seasonal specials. The crowds usually got crazier closer to Halloween.

"And they're assigned seats," Hana added with a snicker as she stole Mathilda's place in line and rocked up to the cashier, already spouting the group order.

"Is he coming in or what?" Eli asked, referring to Simon who you had left at the entrance to wait for Maddie and Xavier.

You watched Simon pace the length of the sidewalk outside the cinema's large windows, texting who you assumed was Maddie for the fourth time since you'd met up with him. When you'd suggested Maddie and Xavier might already be inside, Simon had scoffed, dismissing the notion as if you'd suggested the Earth was flat.

As far as you knew, Maddie had successfully invited Xavier to attend. Whatever was holding them up might've had to do with why Xavier had asked you to send another false text about band practice during Homeroom. You figured the receipts were for Xavier's father, the Sheriff determined to keep Xavier on a leash that had been shortening in recent weeks.

"Should we tell him we'll meet them in there?" Hana wondered, offloading on you one of the two massive barrels of buttery popcorn she'd ordered.

You gave Eli a pleading look, "You mind telling him? And text Zav while you're at it. Maybe Maddie's phone died."

"Got it." Eli cheerfully accepted his mission command, jogging to the entrance and out the door.

You lingered for a moment to watch the exchange. Thumbnail between his teeth and full attention on his phone, Simon hardly acknowledged Eli at all.

"The guy's obsessed," Hana commented, shifting uncomfortably as she followed the scene beside you. "Has he always been that unhealthy for her?"

You shrugged, asking yourself the same thing. You weren't super close to Simon and Maddie, and had no benchmark for what constituted as normal in their friendship, but the fact that Simon had called her repeatedly and refused to join your group until Maddie was in front of him raised a few red flags.

Eli caught up to you as you and the others herded into the theater, "He said it's fine." He reported, "Guess we'll catch up after the movie." Since your seats and Simon, Maddie, and Xavier's were several rows apart.

"And you texted Zav?" You asked, sidling along behind Hana and dropping into your seat.

"Yeah, but he hasn't texted back. Whatever," Eli grabbed a generous handful of popcorn off the top of the pile in your bucket and shoved half of it into his mouth, "Knowing our boy, he probably convinced Maddie to do something else."

But Xavier hadn't. And by the time you'd thought to ask him what had happened, Sheriff Baxter had already started investigating Maddie's 'disappearance'.

Simon had known something had been wrong and you'd dismissed it completely. Maybe, if you'd taken it seriously, you and Simon could've returned to the school, caught Mr. Anderson red-handed, and Maddie would be safe and sound.

There was a tap at your window. You didn't have to look to know it was Wally, the connection between you and him purring to life. In one swift movement, you climbed out of the car and flopped against Wally's chest, allowed him to take your weight in a physical act far too familiar for two people who'd essentially just met.

It is what it is, you ceded, lacking the mental fortitude to care very much. You could only handle one thing at a time right now. And besides, you'd had Wally's tongue down your throat and his hands on your ass, surely a cuddle wasn't going to offend.

After a minute of silence, "You okay?" Wally asked.

You leaned back on a disgruntled harrumph. Raised your arms in a childish request for uppies that Wally obliged instantly. He lifted you up, cradled you like a toddler, and dotted your head and the side of your face that was accessible to him in sweet, little kisses.

You relaxed into him, the stress of your earlier thoughts easing away. You wanted to spend the rest of the day like this; held, looked after, protected.

"You wanna talk about it?" Wally muttered quietly.

Immediately, you grumbled, "No," however, "I know I have to, though."

Wally's chuckle hummed through you where you were pressed against him.

"Alright, baby." He said, "Let's go," and he placed you delicately back on your feet. Just as you made to move away from the car, Wally stopped you with a gentle hand on your elbow, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

You looked at him inquisitively. He jerked his chin over your shoulder, grin simpering, and when you checked, you couldn't repress the groan of despair that charged out of you.

"God dammit, how am I getting worse at this?" You demanded to know, sliding back into the driver's seat and, subsequently, back into your body which was still folded over the steering wheel.

💀___________________________

PART ELEVEN - PART THIRTEEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[dinosaurwithablog]

The Yankees are on fire 🔥 Dominguez got on base. Volpe got on base. Wells got on base. Wells got Dominguez home to tie the score. They decided to walk Goldschmidt to load the bases. They chose to pitch to Trent Grisham. They changed pitchers and put Wandy Peralta on the mound. He used to pitch for the Yankees. He's not very good. In 4 pitches, he just walked in a run. I think that they may have reconsidered that intentional walk. Rice is at bat and hits a 2 run double. You go, Wandy. Now they intentionally walk Judge. Bases loaded again with only one out. I guess they didn't rethink it, but I'm thinking that they should have. The score is now 6-3,Yankees!!! It's like Oprah giving prizes out there!! I can't believe they walked the bases loaded twice in the same inning. I guess they learned that from our relievers in the last inning. 🤣🤣🤣 Bellinger hits an RBI single. Dominguez is back at the plate!! This is a miraculous inning!! He hits a sac fly!! I'm good with that!! I can't believe Wandy is still pitching, but I'm very grateful. Volpe is at bat!! Go, Anthony!! Volpe gets an RBI single because they couldn't catch the ball!! It's a 6 run inning!!! Wells is at bat with two outs!!! I gotta admire Wandy for still trying. The guy has guts. I'll give him that. It's the last i can do for all these runs!! Thank you, Wandy 😁😍 Austin Wells hits a grand slam to make the score 12-3!!! I love it when my boys do this. The rush of endorphins is overwhelming and thrilling!! A 10 run inning. Wandy gets the last out, finally. This started out with the Padres leading, 3-2. It ended with the Yankees leading 12-3!!! My boys are sooooooo spectacular!! I love watching this kind of baseball, especially when it's my team doing it!!

In a phenomenal inning, the star of the inning has to be the magnificent Austin Wells with his beautiful grand slam!!! I gotta believe that pitching is not gonna take this away from us!! Please, Boone, so not put Devin Williams in the game tonight. Please. He always does that when we get the lead. This is an incredible lead so I'm thinking that we're gonna be just fine!!! I love these guys and I love this game sooooooo much ❤️

Let's go, Yankees!!!!!

And go we did!! I love it when a plan comes together ❤️

Fun fact. More fun if you're a Yankees fan....

In the past 52 innings, the Padres have not allowed 10 earned runs, but tonight, they did it in one inning. That's how incredible that inning was. If they win tonight, which i think they will, they will stop the 7 game winning streak of the Padres. A truly remarkable inning, indeed!! My boys!! 😁😁😁

Let's go, Yankees!!!!!

Another fun fact, and I'm having fun so it seems only right to point these things out...

Both teams have 10 his tonight, but the score does not reflect that at all. It was a great game. Both teams did well, but tonight, it was our turn to win. After last night, I'm very thankful for this win!! 🙏🏼

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @ironheartwriter @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet @annoyingcloudearthquake @strandnreyes @henrygrass and @whatsintheboxmh 😘

From Somewhere in a Song chapter 13, posting tomorrow :)

TK follows Andrea down a hallway and around a corner into a bright, sunny kitchen. Gabriel trails just behind him, and the words Southern hospitality spring to TK’s mind as he’s asked how the tour is going and what it was like to grow up in New York City and handed a tall glass of sweet tea all before either of them have asked him what the hell he’s doing here. If TK were in their shoes, he doubts he would have even answered the door, if he’d checked through the peephole and didn’t know the man on the other side of it.

He wonders how long the polite, avoidant conversation would continue, as he looks at Carlos’s father across the round kitchen table and cuts to the chase. “Our tour resumes tomorrow in Miami but I thought I’d stop off here first because there’s something I wanted to tell you. A couple things, actually.”

“We’re all ears,” Andrea says with her eyebrows raised.

“The first thing,” TK begins, “is that I’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s been almost 10 years since my band’s first album came out. I’ve seen the ins and outs of the industry, so many different artists and bands come and go. Your son is really, really talented. He has something special that not everyone in this business has.”

“Oh.” Andrea puts her hands up to her chest. “Thank you, mijo, it’s so sweet of you to tell us that.”

Gabriel gives TK a discerning look, and TK is reminded so vividly of Carlos – of the way it always felt like Carlos was x-raying TK with his eyes. “I imagine you didn’t travel all this way just to tell us that our Carlitos is talented?”

“I …” TK’s about to answer, and then he smiles. “Carlitos?”

“Our nickname for him, since he was a baby,” his mother explains.

TK nods. There were pictures hung in the hallway, TK only caught a glimpse of what looked like a young Carlos in a soccer uniform. He’ll have to try to get a better look on his way out.

Unsure exactly how to bring it up and annoyed that he hadn’t used his time on the plane to prepare a speech, TK swallows and decides being blunt and honest is the best course of action. He curls his hands around his glass, wet with condensation in the summer heat, and says, “Carlos told me you haven’t seen him perform that many times.”

He watches, wincing internally, as their expressions turn to discomforted ones.

“I’m not judging. I know life is complicated. My relationship with my dad is complicated, too. But …” TK pauses, uncertain as to whether he’s offended them as two sets of brown eyes look back at him. “I think he would be embarrassed to tell you this, but it would really, really mean a lot to him if you came to a show. A lot.”

Andrea blinks a few times in quick succession, her eyes going a little shiny. Gabriel is still frowning but he doesn’t look angry, so TK continues.

“We’re playing a show in Dallas, in about a week and a half. We’re playing one in Austin, too, but that one is sold out already.” He reaches into his wallet, pulling it from his back pocket so he can remove two printed tickets. “I got these for you. It’s at a cool old theater called the Majestic. You should come.”

“The end of August is – ” Carlos’s father begins, but his mother interrupts with a gentle whack to her husband’s shoulder.

“Gabriel! We can shirk our duties around here for one night to see our Carlitos play.”

Gabriel looks at her, and then turns his face back to TK.

With his heart racing just a little, TK tells him, “Your approval means so much to him.”

“It does?” Gabriel asks, eyebrows raising.

TK reads instantly in his face that he isn’t acting – he really didn’t know how much Carlos craves his support, and the thought of it fills TK with sadness.

He wonders how many important things are laying dormant and unspoken between him and his own father, things that TK hasn’t realized are significant yet. His mom is gone. If there was anything he needed to say to her, he can’t anymore, and it makes TK want to phone his dad the moment he leaves this house, even if just to say I love you.

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday @rangersoup @ambernotember

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[fieriframes]

[Anybody but Austin.]

[maxfriedss]

baby doll

ben rice interacts with you a total of 22 times before she kisses you.

the number is ironic—yet she still hates it. maybe hate is a strong word but it fits now. the previous 22, one who’s name would whispered and still earn the roar of angry new yorkers, is lone gone, much to her oblige. stuck in the stadium practically across the street for a long and grueling fifteen years. boone had suggest the number change, surprisingly.

“you’re a full time professional now,” he’d stated one meeting, giving one of her broad shoulders, the action jostling her just a bit. “you need to prove yourself, and i think you can.”

you come in a week later.

you’re young—a rookie catcher with softness of a doe and an arm of a sniper. you’re quiet, too. you don’t really speak unless needed, mostly hanging around people of the same caliber, max fried, paul goldschmidt, and dj lemahieu to name a few. ben can’t help but feel entranced.

the first day you meet, you replace ben’s feeble attempt of a handshake with a small and awkward upturn of your lips, murmuring a statistic about how it’s really safer to kiss then receive touch from a random individual.

ben elbows j.c. in the stomach when he laughs.

you don’t speak much after that. you, j.c., and austin alternate game days between catcher, the use of all three of your arms keeping the team together in a way. like a missing puzzle piece.

something in ben’s chest aches when she sees you laughing gently on the bench one day. one of max’s dumb dad jokes from the looks of it, and with the way goldy’s barely there smile shines under the stadium lights she can tell he learned it from him.

she’s at your locker that same night.

“you don’t talk much,” ben points out, winching at the sheer stupidity of her voice—a bit too loud and cracking slightly—before settling for a small smile, cheeks curling around soft dimples and showing a charming flash of two bunny like teeth in the front of her mouth.

“is that a problem?” you question, and it makes her blink. your voice is soft in her ears. like velvet.

“no, no!” she stammers, pink lips mashing together in order to stop them from spewing more nonsense, a flush of maroon gathering at the apples of her cheeks. “that’s nice! not that you don’t talk- talkings great, i-i love talking.”

the smile you give her practically burns.

you form a slight…friendship after that. if you can even call it a friendship—it’s basically her just talking your ear off and giving her little mumbled feedback.

tonight—day 22—is unexpected, in a way.

the game, a close knit one against their city rival mets, hobbles into extra innings. it’s something that has both the team and the stadium holding its breath with each pitch, from both the mets bullpen and your own.

j.c.’s on base, ironically. catcher trying to send another catcher home for the win, and ben finds herself losing her breath when you give the ball a rough hit—sending it through the middle of the infield and letting it roll around.

the memories are a bit faded for the both of you—you because you’re basically blacked out from excitement and ben because she’s just so damn proud.

ben and max do the gatorade bath, and she can’t help but relish in the way you let out a shocked yelp, shaking away the biting freeze of ice and water before getting blindside by a towel—courtesy of judge.

there’s something that tugs at her chest after the postgame celebration, thick and warm like honey when she sees you standing by your locker. hair braided neatly, but still damp.

“bambi,” she murmurs, gentle not to startle you and because she can’t not be around you.

“me, j.c, wellsy, and volpe were thinking about going out for drinks after.” ben explains, scratching at the nape of her neck hesitantly before lowering it. “figured you’d come since you’re the one who walked it off.”

you pause your fiddling with the edge of your bag.

“i dunno,” you mumble, giving her a small smile at the name. you turn, tucking a stray hair behind your neck, before sitting down on one of the benches. “i don’t do bars.”

for some reason, ben’s not surprised. the image of you drinking something stronger than soda at a bar feels wrong.

she walks over, perching herself at the end of the bench you’re sitting on. she leans over, tilting her head to try and see the look on your face.

“why not?”

you give her a momentary look of dryness, a small you know me resting on the tip of your tongue. but you’re not truly sure if she knows you, so you bite it back. “not my place.” you explain, giving a gentle shrug. “i like staying at home, i guess.”

ben hums, knowing there’s something else hidden in it but not digging further. maybe another day.

“that’s fair,” she says. “a homebody.”

as if it isn’t already obvious, her eyes scan you over. a plain old baseball tee, one she’s seen you wearing more than once from the way it’s wrinkled and loose. she wants to reach out and feel the material, see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“do you think you’re going to go home after this is all over?” ben asks suddenly, eyes still fixated on the thin fabric of your shirt.

she’s trying to ignore the way her mind supplies an image of you in her own shirt, swallowed up in the material and with the hem resting just at your mid thighs. dumb, dumb, dumb.

“yeah,” you answer, eyes searching hers before they drift down to where they sit—locked in on the exposed skin of her collarbones. “probably put on a movie or something.”

she wants to believe the look in your eyes is what most would call lustful, but she’s had too many of those from fans and knows that’s not what’s being displayed on your face.

it’s curiosity. desire, but in a more intimate way. you wanting to know her.

it makes her shift a little bit, her hands fidgeting with the material of her pants.

“that sounds relaxing,” she murmurs, and ben doesn’t mean for the comment to come off as breathy as it did.

“i would offer to come over,” she blurts out then, regretting pooling in her body immediately,

it’s almost funny. the way you still just stare at her with those big doe eyes of yours, but she can see the slight change at her words. the way your chin tilts up, jaw setting and chest moving up and down as you breathe.

“…you would?”

it doesn’t help when you speak, either. your voice is soft and melodic to her ears, even when it’s pitched up in a sign of surprise. a lot of people compare her voice to chocolate—deep and smooth, thick when she’s tired.

yours? it’s soft, kind of sweet, a bit airy. it soothes ben.

“i would,” she confirms, meeting your eyes and ignoring the way her heart beats out of her chest under her ribs.

“we could-“

she stops, biting her lower lip as she contemplates her next words. her mind fills with a different picture, one that makes her flush. it’s you, under her on the couch, whining softly and with hands gripping the couch fabric. the thought is tantalizing.

the rational part of ben, the part that makes her a decent player, tells her that you don’t want that. it’s too fast, too quick. you won’t like—

a hand on her knee snaps her out of it, and ben realizes that you’ve scooted closer.

“the offers nice,” you murmur, giving the bone of her knee a gentle squeeze. “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

ben swallows, mouth going dry.

“it’s not that i don’t want to,” she shakes her head, reaching out to grab your hand from her knee and hold it in her own. it’s small compared to hers, but it’s soft and kind of cute the way it gets swallowed up. it reminds her of how you’d be under her. “i kind of really do.”

“you kind of really do.” you repeat, lips curling up gently, hand going lax in her grip.

ben lets out an amused huff of air, feeling slightly lightheaded with just how close you are. like this, she can truly see just how short you are compared to her. her knees brush into your thighs and you have to look up to meet her gaze. your bottom lip looks like a pillow—plump and soft, begging to be kissed.

“i do.” she whispers, eyes fixated on your lips as she leans forward a bit more, noses brushing.

there’s an overwhelming urge for her to lean forward and kiss you—and god, she can. you’re right there, so easy to grab and touch and have. but one look at your face stops her. you’re so young. you have so much opportunity to go to waste. it’s only been a few weeks and she could already tell you’re a gem.

“you’re young,” ben murmurs, thumb rubbing circles over your palm as she pulls away. “and i don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“‘m not that young,” you huff, eyes blinking slowly as she pulls back. your nose twitches slightly—like it wanted the momentary contact back.

her grip on your hand tightens. “yes, you are,” ben insists, eyes softening at the subtle movement of your nose. god, even your nose was adorable.

“i’m 26,” she continues. “you’re barely 22.”

you pause, before letting out a tiny breath, slipping from her hold slightly. “i…i feel normal around you. i don’t feel like…i need to be someone.”

she wants to cry at the words—not the ones that you spoke, but the ones you didn’t. it’s not surprising that you don’t feel how ben feels.

ben loves the attention, craves it. but you…you shrink under everything. every flash of the camera and every cheer that resonates through the stadium.

“you don’t need to be anything. you’re you.” her free hand moves up to your cheek, thumb tracing over the ridge of your cheek bone.

“and i’m not trying to take advantage of you,” ben repeats, feeling the flutter of your lashes against her fingers. “i just—“

“what?” you’re looking at her with those soft eyes again, and ben feels like she’s suffocating. there’s so many things she wants to say—so many things she can’t.

“i just like you,” she finishes lamely, words slipping out before she could properly stop them.

you smile at that. “i just like you.”

ben returns it easily, leaning closer so her forehead touches the top of your forehead and her other hand goes to the back of the bench, caging you gently.

you make her feel insane. crazy, even. she’s been with people she’s had her fair share of attraction with, people she’s found pretty and beautiful even. but you? she just might worship you. she wants to hold you for the rest of her goddamn life.

“can you kiss me?” you question, brushing your nose against hers again, wide eyes blinking in anticipation. “if you like me?”

it takes a lot of effort to hold back from making a sound. ben doesn’t want to freak you out even more, but the request and the way you’re so obviously asking for it makes her want to grab you by the waist and shove you up against the nearest hard surface and kiss you until you’re breathless.

“yeah,” she exhales, breath fanning across your face. “yeah, yeah, baby, come here.”

the kiss is soft, chaste. ben keeps it that way, making sure she doesn’t take too much. she wants to take it all and more, but she’s scared to break you.

she holds the side of your face with one hand. the other lands on one of your thighs, and she can’t help but squeeze slightly. you’re warm under her palm and she can feel the way your breath stutters.

you inhale deeply, eyes drifting down to her hand before looking back up, lips tilted down in a thoughtful frown. “can i have another one?” you ask, trying not to sound so needy.

ben can’t help the small laugh that escapes her at your words. she can already see how this is going to go.

“yeah, baby,” she murmurs, words muffled when she leans forward and captures your lips again. it’s sweet at first, gentle and unhurried.

then you part your lips and oh, she just can’t help herself.

her tongue gently swipes across your lower lip, silently asking for access. you give it to her easily, and ben’s almost embarrassed at the whine you make under her. she has to pull away—has to breathe, god damn it, but she misses you already. ben can’t help but look at your face, flushed red and slightly swollen from her own actions.

“god,” she huffs lowly, eyes roving over you. “god damn it, look at you. so pretty.”

you suck in a sharp breath, tongue swiping over your mouth fleetingly before tipping your head forward. you frown when nudges you back.

“hey, come here,” ben murmurs, gently grabbing your chin and tilting your face up so you’re looking at her.

you’re gorgeous. your cheeks are flushed prettily, lips red and shiny from her. she wants to pull you closer, kiss you until her jaw falls off, but there’s a sense of dread sitting at the back of her mind. “bambi, why are you pouting?”

“i want another one.”

she’s already shaking her head ‘no’ before the words are out of your mouth. “if we keep this up,” ben mutters, thumb rubbing the skin of your chin, “we’re never going to leave this bench.”

she wants to kiss you, wants to pull you up into her lap and keep you there for as long as you’ll let her. ben wants to explore your mouth, wants to learn how you kiss and what you like. she wants to hold your cheeks in her hands and bite and pull at your lip until you gasp.

but—

a part of her is still being rational. there’s a fear still lingering, one that tells her to take it easy, take it slow.

“we should—“ ben clears her throat, voice cracking slightly and sounding strained from how hard she’s trying to keep herself together.

you’re doing this to her. not physically, at least.

she wants to ask you to go home with her. wants to keep you tucked against her chest the whole night, wants to feel your weight on her mattress and between her thighs, wants to drown in the way you feel and how you sound.

ben wants you. just not like this. it’d be too fast.

you breathe in and out slowly, the drunkenness of her mouth wearing off and settling into something calmer. “okay.” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

she lets out a shuddering exhale, eyes lingering on that one little spot of skin that your movement exposed to the world. “okay,” ben repeats dumbly, clearing her throat and attempting to shake the slight buzz in her head.

her hands are still on you, one still holding your chin and the other on the soft expanse of your thigh. she can’t bring herself to remove either one.

“have to go,” you state, curling a palm around the hand on your thigh, blinking slowly.

“yeah,” she whispers, her hand twisting so she can intertwine her fingers through yours and squeeze lightly. “i know.”

ben doesn’t move her other hand, though. she’s still holding your chin, thumb stroking your skin and she really doesn’t want to let go.

your lips part for a moment—hesitant and nervous, before you turn, tipping your head into her cupped palm. “i really like you,” you admit, trailing your gaze over her face.

ben feels weak at your words, feeling the way you nuzzle into her palm and how your eyelashes brush the skin of her hand. god, she can’t keep up with how quickly her heart is beating.

“i really like you, too,” she murmurs, eyes fluttering when your gaze drifts over her face. “more than i probably should.”

“i want to take you out,” ben starts, watching the way her words make you tilt your head a bit. “proper. like, where it’s not just—“ she motions between the two of them, “whatever this is.”

not whatever this is, she thinks. i want it to be more.

the thought makes her heart clench in her chest, her grip on your fingers tightening.

“a date?” you ask, throat bobbing as you swallow.

“yeah, baby,” she rasps, eyes glued on the movement. “a date.”

“i’m gonna take you out,” ben continues, watching you through a hooded gaze. “wherever you want. i’ll take you somewhere fancy, spoil you rotten.” she brings the hand on your thigh up to your waist, gripping the material of your shirt. “then i’m gonna bring you back to my apartment, and treat you like a damn princess.”

her words make something jolt in your stomach, but you smile anyway—giddy and a bit too wide but still you. “alright.” you murmur.

“yeah?” ben questions, a crooked smile of her own stretching across her lips.

the idea of having you in her apartment, in her bed is still fresh in her mind. the thought of your voice sounding wrecked and breathy, with your thighs trembling around her head. “you’ll let me take you out?”

“mhm.”

ben lets out an amused huff of breath, leaning forward and pressing a kiss beneath your ear. it’s different than the one she gave you on your mouth, one that’s more possessive and claiming.

“okay, bambi,” she exhales, watching the way the corner of your mouth twitches. “you let me plan everything.”

“anything you want,” ben murmurs, kissing the spot again before pulling away. “movie, food, you name it.”

she’s never felt like this before. everything feels different around you, more…amplified. all of her feelings get heightened around you, every little thing that you do drives her insane.

she wants you so bad.

—

holy FUCK this took to long to edit

anyway welcome bambi!reader 🫶🏼 i kinda made her a bit ditzy i promise shes a sweetheart and has a good arc

okay i’m gonna hurry and post so @volpeenthusiast doesnt die of a crash out attack

@judgepilled

[sentintheclowns]

Larkin Lines '25!

Baby Legacy: aiden krick, aria johnson, ava dailey, aviana souter, bennie lemke, camryn anderson, charlotte morin, coco thueson, collins breiland, eliza clark, emmy tracey, felix carachuri, hailey laulainen, hattie holzman, joey ames, kadence brisson, larissa palma, lily mccune-barrett, oakley turk, reagan hatchett, remi meyer, sora le

Future Legacy: ari phelan, brielle shea, cylie adams, daphne mikkelson, elise wilson, elliott swenson, evie swenson, finley kill, ines matamoros, isla maroney, julian philippi, lina freeman, makayla hollerich, marvel grover, mira tian, pearl conway, sawyer schulte, vivian sweeney

Peewee Legacy: addyson williams, aeliana o'brien, alivia lindgren, audrey allen, cecilia santori, cosette kuh, etta mundahl, hazel montgomery, hazel wahlstrand, lydia tracy, maisy anderson, mckinley mlynarczyk, murphy moyer, noelle bottini, olivia scholl, presley turner, quinn befort, remington poquette, rosie xiong, sydney anderson, tenlee jyrkas

Petite Legacy: amira souter, ava fraser, bella harris, bethany hill, camille matamoros, chloe adams, claire hansen, clara deutsch, clara ziemke, ella austin, ellery lemke, ginny salinas, hallee anderson, isla bloss, jade glyzinski, juliana philippi, lyla lindgren, maraike dobberke, renee girard, sailor stormoen, stella ames, valerie greenig

Mini Legacy: brooklyn williams, charlie peery, charlotte tracy, chase lang, elle befort, emilia padesky, evelyn ringeisen, evie mccune-barrett, giuliana shea, harper kill, hayden haider, hazel ecklin, henley raak, kenna bloss, kinsley lissick, maddie kulenkamp, maddyn bauermeister, matinly conrad, morgan martens, sophia austin, truett ziemke

Junior Legacy: charlotte stoner, eleanor lamers, elia cocchiarella, halle kulenkamp, ingrid kromroy, jayla xiong, kylie roach, leah pribyl, lexie charnstrom, lilly anderson, maylin munos, mila ayshford, neala murphy, palmer peltier, reese ottney, reese ringold, savannah jackson, scarlett manzel, sloan simon, vera souvannavong, vivian greenig, whitney lissick

Junior Line: ava mccraine, ava rothmund*, isabella charnstrom, daphnie braun*, elle boudewyns, elle king, finley ashfield, giselle mourad, hailey turnbull, harlow pike*, hazel koshire, ingrid wirtz, juan pacheco, kate monge, kelsie jacobson, kennedy deuth, malia scott, mia kostinovski, savannah werner, sienna powers, tahari conrad, tillie kuhl

Senior Line: annika padelford, ashley gutz, ava munos, brynn kostka, caleb abea, cecelia thielen*, claire monge, clara koshire, delaney rosewell, erik barker, isabella jarvis*, keira redpath*, kira reissner, laci bloss, maddie radosevich, matissa conrad, olivia shelton, siena paradeau

*=captain!

[joelalorian]

Tides of Desire - Chapter One: A Prelude to the Open Sea

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, adventure, alcohol, injuries, fluff, angst, smut. Reader is a badass. Additional warnings will be posted with each chapter as needed. No use of y/n.

Chapter One: A Prelude to the Open Sea

It was his favorite time of year, yacht season. Austin, Texas would always be home, but there was just something about the sea that called to Joel Miller like a siren, the salty air a balm to his weary soul. It warmed his heart that Sarah took to the sea just as well, tagging along from a young age as he captained charter boats in the Gulf of Mexico or Caribbean Sea for a few months between November and April each year. His brother, too, fell in love with the sea, joining Joel in the charter industry upon his discharge from the Army. While Joel spent years working his way up to Captain, Tommy fell into the safety side of yachting, thriving as a deck hand and eventually falling into the role of Bosun. Tommy preferred the hands-on, leadership with some manual labor style of the role and had no inclination to move up for a while.

Sarah would be joining them for her third season as an official crew member, serving on the interior staff once again, her first time as the Chief Stewardess. Having grown up in the field, she knew the ins and outs of the yachts her dad captained and could likely hold nearly any crew position. Yet, Sarah always preferred the interior staff roles. She loved designing elegant table settings and the creative aspects of event planning, even if the grind of cleaning up after obscenely rich charter guests had its less than stellar moments.

“Ya all packed up, baby girl?” Joel asked as he passed Sarah’s bedroom, hefting his luggage down the stairs. “We gotta head out soon. Tommy’s coming to get us any minute now.”

“I’ll be right there!” Sarah called back, zipping up her carry-on bag. She always overpacked. Never knowing just how the season would go adventure or weather-wise, Sarah wanted to be prepared for anything. Hence, she was checking two large suitcases and taking a carry-on and large purse on the plane with her.

“For fuck’s sake, kiddo. Are ya moving out or somethin’?” Joel griped as he heaved one of the suitcases and the carry-on down the stairs. “We can do laundry on the boat, ya know.”

Tommy’s arrival cut off any sassy response Sarah might have made, and Joel made sure the house was secure before they took off for the airport. His buddy next door would keep an eye on the house and mow the lawn when needed, as he’d done for years now.

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The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the tranquil waters of the Caribbean. An elegant yacht, a vessel of luxury and escape, sat at the marina awaiting the rest of its crew to board.

Joel stood tall on the bridge, the epitome of a seasoned captain with a stoic demeanor and skin tinted by the southern sun. On the deck, his long-time first mate, Frank, called out friendly greetings along with orders to the crew already at work. Down below, Bill, the yacht's engineer, inspected the engines with a meticulous eye, grumbling to himself about the slightest imperfections of the otherwise pristine ship.

Sarah stood portside with clipboard in hand, greeting each crew member as they arrived and directing them to their bunks. There were a few familiar faces from over the years, many crew members returning to spend another season with the Millers, yet her interior team was entirely new.

Once everyone arrived and settled into what would be their spaces for the next few months, the team leaders called meetings with their crew – Sarah and the interior team settling in the sky lounge while Tommy met with the deck crew in the tender storage space. Once they introduced everyone and went over the important aspects of their respective roles on the yacht, the two teams reconvened in the main salon for the crew meeting with the captain.

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From the moment you spotted the super yacht in the marina, you were in awe. The sleek 100-foot powerhouse towered over the other boats in the mooring, looking more than ready to take on the Caribbean Seas. This was your third season as a deck hand, having changed careers after burning out quickly in the corporate world. Though it might have been a complete waste of your undergrad and graduate degrees, you switched gears to yachting as a means of self-preservation. The hard work of life on the seas reminded you of pleasant summers spent with your grandpa sailing the English Channel and Mediterranean. He taught you everything you knew about boats and the water. You never lost those skills or that love for the sea when you left England for university in America, having been a fierce competitor on your school’s sailing team.

Now, you found yourself joining a new crew on a super yacht for the third year in a row and you could not be more excited. You heard great things about Captain Joel from your prior captains and knew that he treated his crew like family. He commanded respect by taking care to treat the crew with the respect they deserved. You also heard he was gorgeous, but you couldn’t focus on that. You were here to work and didn’t want to get distracted.

Your eyes widened as you walked up the passerelle and met a tall young woman with a mane of springy dark curls. “Hi, I’m Sarah, the Chief Stew!” she greeted, brown eyes shining as brightly as her smile.

Her exuberance was contagious, and you flashed a broad smile in return. “Hi, Sarah,” you replied, giving your name in return, and watched with a keen eye as she checked you off on the clipboard in her hand. “I’m one of the deck hands.”

“I see that.” Sarah met your eyes again. “My Uncle Tommy is the Bosun. He’s awesome, you’ll love him.” Her eyes assessed you further, apparently approving what she saw. “Some also say he’s quite handsome. Though, some say that about my dad, too. Personally, I don’t see it.”

“Cheeky girl!” you laughed, already knowing that you two would get along well. “I can already see you’re going to be a troublemaker.”

“You have no idea!” Sarah confirmed with a smirk. “Come on, I’ll show you to your bunk.”

Sarah gave you the penny tour on the way, pointing out the main areas that you would need to know and explaining a few things about the other crew who arrived so far. The yacht was beautiful and the enormity of it became even more obvious as you moved through the various levels and rooms.

“You’ll be rooming with Tess, the chef. She’s awesome. My dad has been friends with her my entire life. She always prefers the top bunk, so you have the bottom.” Sarah was a fount of information. “We’ll be calling crew meetings in about an hour, so get settled and explore.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” you replied before turning to sort through your things. Left to your own devices, you had your portion of the cabin setup just how you wanted in no time. Before you knew it, you found yourself wandering around the ship, orienting yourself and getting familiar with each area.

Turning a corner on your way to the main deck, you ran smack into a body resembling a solid wall. “Oy! I’m terribly sorry!” you rushed to simultaneously apologize and regain your balance. Your eyes inched upwards along the broad chest in front of you, roving over a scruffy beard, and finally settled on a pair of startlingly deep brown eyes that stared at you in equal wonder.

“Pardon me, darlin’.” The voice emanating from that sinful mouth was deep and rich, causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise with goosebumps. Reaching out a large hand to make sure you were steady, he continued, “You must be one of my new crew members. ‘M the Captain, but you can always call me Joel.”

Good lord, people were not lying when they told you Captain Joel was hot. He was the most gorgeous man you’d ever set eyes on. Broad and tall, he struck an imposing figure, but his dark eyes were kind, wide like a puppy’s. The contours of his face were pleasing to the eye. It took you a few moments to realize you were staring wide-eyed without responding, and quickly cleared your throat.

Giving him your name, you added, “I’m one of the deck crew.”

Joel nodded. “My brother is the Bosun. Have you met him yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve only met Sarah… and now you,” you replied. Was he aware that his warm hand was still on your arm? The heat of it searing into your skin in a tantalizing way, threatening to send you to distraction. “I’m sure I’ll meet everyone soon enough.”

“Are you British?” Joel asked suddenly, his tanned cheeks flushing. His free hand raised to the back of his head, ruffling the dark curls there. “Sorry, I just noticed the hint of an accent.”

“I am, though I’ve been in the States for quite a while now and have lost most of the accent I used to have. You could say I’ve become Americanized,” you joked, earning a deep chuckle from Joel.

It seemed that neither of you were interested in getting back to what you were originally doing, the conversation flowing as you shared some of your yachting experience and Joel told you about the rest of his crew and how he liked to operate as a Captain. You decided you could listen to him talk forever – he was enthralling, voice deep and flowing like a rocky stream. All too soon, though, a call came over the radio on Joel’s hip, letting you both know that it was time for the deck crew meeting.

“Guess that’s my cue,” you said, trying not to feel sad that the conversation had to end. Before you could turn to reorient yourself, Joel spoke. “I’m heading in that direction; I’ll show you the way.”

It was a quick, quiet walk to the main deck which allowed you to focus your mind. Joel left you with a soft touch at the small of your back and the hint of a smile before you turned your attention to the other members of the deck crew.

You could see the family resemblance as Tommy introduced himself as Bosun. Damn, the brothers were far more attractive than they had any right to be - the Miller family had a serious gene pool! As if able to read your thoughts, the young woman next you chuckled and teased under her breath, “And another one bites the dust.”

Confused, you glanced at her, keeping half your attention on Tommy’s speech. “What?” you whispered back.

“All the women fall for them.” Her chin jutted toward Tommy, her eyes shifting to the bridge where Joel was stationed. “I hoped you wouldn’t be so predictable.”

Oh, this girl was cheeky! You tried to remember her name from Tommy’s introductions… Kellie? Nellie? No, it was Ellie. This Ellie was… something. “It’s not my fault they’re bloody fucking hot, yeah?”

The pair of you cracked up, drawing Tommy’s ire. “Am I interrupting something more important, ladies?”

Your face warmed as you shook your head, mortified to be called out so early on in the first day of the job. Meanwhile, Ellie merely smirked at the man. “Please, continue with your enthralling speech, Tommy. We’re just dying to hear the rest of it.”

Tommy scowled, the exuberance of his speech now shaken.

At once, you knew the pair of you would get along well. Ellie was so… spunky. And it wasn’t often you got to work with another woman on the deck crew.

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“Hey Dad,” Sarah chimed, stepping onto the bridge to see Joel going over a tide chart for the coming days.

“Hi baby girl,” he replied, slipping the black plastic framed glasses from his nose and popped them in his shirt pocket. “How’s the crew looking this season?”

Sitting with a sigh at the small table in the corner, Sarah stretched her long legs. “It’s looking real good this year. With Uncle Tommy, Tess, Bill, Frank, and Ellie back as always, the new folks should fit right in. I love that we have two women on deck crew.”

Joel nodded. “Tommy said they might be trouble though. He was grumbling about Ellie sassin’ him during his big welcome speech.” The father and daughter shared a good laugh knowing how seriously Tommy took his role as a leader and how hard he worked to perfect that speech over the years. “How about your stews? Ya gotta good team?”

Sarah’s eyes lit up as she nodded excitedly. “For sure! They are going to be great. Sammy has a ton of energy and is focused on hospitality, so he’ll make a great First Stew. It’ll be fun having a guy on the team, too. Talia is friendly but quiet and really organized. She’s already showing signs of taking Emmy under her wing, so she’s a perfect fit for Second Stew. And Emmy is the sweetest thing. She’s like a sponge and is really creative.”

His heart warmed seeing his daughter taking a leadership role at such a young age and already getting to know her team and how to organize them on the first day. Joel was so proud of her it made his heart hurt. “Sounds like you got it all under control. Guess it’s time for the big crew meeting. Call everyone to the main salon, please.”

Making the call over the radio for everyone to meet in the main salon, the pair of them hefted a couple of boxes of uniforms for the crew along with them. They were the first to arrive and Sarah spent the time segregating the uniforms for each crew member, laying them out on the center table for everyone to grab. Joel stood at the head of the room as the crew filtered in and took a seat on the elegant leather sectional. Once everyone was settled, he called the room to order.

“Welcome to Radiance, y’all,” Joel started before giving some facts about the yacht, his experience, and officially welcoming everyone aboard. “As we’re all adults here, I expect appropriate behavior at all times. I only have a few rules. No drinking while on charter. No fraternizing with the guests. Finally, do not embarrass me or this yacht with poor behavior. Got it?”

His darks eyes moved around the room, landing on you for a few beats too long before shifting around again. He couldn’t look at you without being distracted. That was not good.

The meeting shifted to a fun game run by Sarah to get to know each other. Once they were finished, everyone grabbed their new uniforms – a few sets of daily wear, dress whites, and black dinner wear each. They all received rash guards with the boat’s name, Radiance, on it as well, for beach excursions.

“The rest of today is a free day – I suggest you use it to get to know the boat and each other. The real work begins tomorrow as we get the yacht ready for our first charter on Tuesday.” Joel bid them farewell, heading back to the bridge with Frank. Bill also disappeared back down to the engine room, not one for socializing, especially with such a young, rambunctious crowd. Tess and Tommy stuck around, interested in getting to know the new crew members.

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After a tour of the yacht guided by Sarah and Tommy, everyone ended up in the main salon again. “Anyone up for cocktails and the hot tub?” Tommy asked the group with a cheesy smile.

“Hell yeah,” Ellie responded, already running off back to her cabin to change, leaving a trail of chuckles in her wake.

You were definitely down for an adult beverage and a dip in the hot tub. It would be nice to relax your muscles before the manual labor began tomorrow. Tess and the other girls followed you down to the crew cabins. You all gabbed and changed before heading back up to the flybridge and the bar Sarah knowingly stocked earlier.

You slipped into the hot tub with an ice-cold beer in one hand, unaware of Tommy’s heated gaze taking in the sight of you in your bathing suit as he stood nearby with his own beer in hand. You opted for something simple and modest, yet it showed off enough skin to draw the male eye.

Soon, you were joined by Tess who settled near you with a rocks glass full of amber liquid in it. “Hey,” she said, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You certainly have the Miller brothers’ attention.” Her voice was low, directed to your ears only as she gazed at you with knowing eyes.

Not knowing how to respond, your face heated for the third time since you boarded the yacht. You searched the other woman’s eyes, trying to suss out her angle. You knew from Sarah that Tess was a close friend of the Millers and had worked with Joel and Tommy for a long time. Did she have a thing for one, or both, of them and see you as unwanted competition? Whatever the deal was, you did not want to be causing drama your first day of the season!

“I’m—” a splash cut you off as Sarah hopped into the hot tub, seating herself on Tess’s other side, effectively cutting off whatever you were going to say. Good thing, too, as you had no idea what was about to come out of your mouth.

“Woah! Sorry ‘bout that,” Sarah laughed as the water continued to slosh around from her near cannonball entrance. “Are we talking about anything good?”

Tess glanced at you with a shrug. “Just getting to know one another.” Her eyes stayed on you as she took a long pull from her tumbler.

“Cool, cool. So, tell me about yourself, England,” Sarah directed at you.

Quirking a brow at the unoriginal nickname, you replied, “That the best you can do?”

The younger woman beamed at you, the sparkle in her dark eyes bringing another pair of fine eyes to mind. “For now. I’ll do better once I know more about you.”

The next half hour flew by as the three of you shared stories about yourselves. You already knew you liked Sarah from the moment you met her, but even Tess was starting to grow on you. She was sharp and resourceful with a wicked sense of humor. She was a handful of years older than you and lived quite the adventurous life.

Before long, Tommy and the other deckhand, Connor, joined the three of you in the hot tub while the other three interior staff – Sammy, Talia, and Emmy – sat along the edge not wanting to get too wet. The drinks were flowing and quite a few had been spilled into the bubbling water. No doubt there would be quite the mess to clean up tomorrow along with the rest of the deck crew duties.

You fell into conversation with Tommy, learning about his time in the military and how he followed his brother into the charter yacht industry. He asked questions about growing up in England, the time you spent sailing with your grandfather, and your competitive sailing days. He was borderline flirting, and you could tell he was reigning himself in. You learned early on that it was best not to have yacht relationships, but sometimes it was difficult to avoid when you spent 24/7 with someone in a confined space for a few months.

“I love your accent. You sound so much smarter than us Texans,” Tommy said. Americans always loved your accent, though it lost most of its edge by now.

“It’s all an illusion,” you joked. He started leaning closer to you the more alcohol he imbibed, and you could feel Tess’s heavy gaze watching the two of you. Deciding it was time to call it a night, you told the group goodnight despite their protests. Grabbing a towel, you wrapped it around you and dripped your way down to the crew mess for a snack before climbing into your bunk.

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The following morning, you woke up before your alarm, hearing Tess gently snoring in the bunk above you. Wondering what time she came in last night; you dressed in your daily uniform as quietly as possible and freshened up in the bathroom. Closing the cabin door with a gentle click, you grabbed a yogurt for breakfast and made your way up to the tender storage to start your day.

It was only seven o’clock and it appeared most everyone else was still asleep, meeting no one on your journey. You took the opportunity to stroll around the deck, the salt air naturally waking you up. You stopped at the bow to gaze out at the turquoise sea. The water was flat, and a calm breeze ruffled your hair.

“G’morning,” a deep voice sounded behind you, the smell of coffee wafting through the air. Joel appeared at your side, his eyes raking over you in a pleasing way before shifting to the horizon.

 “Good day, Captain,” you greeted in return, a warm smile spreading your lips. He smelled really good – freshly showered with a cologne that accentuated his natural musk. It made your mouth start to water.

Jesus, you should have gotten laid before coming onto this boat.

“Ya want some coffee?” Joel raised the mug in his hand. “I have a fresh pot going. Figured y’all would need it after last night.”

A girlish giggle escaped you before you could stop it. “I don’t drink the stuff, prefer tea, if anything. I called it a night early, but I have no doubt everyone else will need the caffeine boost.”

“Not the typical party animal yachtie then?” The view forgotten, you both turned toward each other to continue the conversation, hips leant against the railing.

“Not by half,” you laughed. “I did enough of that in my university days. Not that I don’t enjoy socializing and having a good time though. I just like to make my hangovers worth it.”

That earned a hearty chuckle from Joel. “That’s one way of putting things into perspective. And I agree, the hangover has to be worth it.”

The two of you fell into comfortable conversation, sharing tidbits about yourselves until more of the deck crew started to emerge for the day. You locked away all the things Joel shared, wanting to build the story of him in your mind.

“This was quite pleasant. We should do it again sometime, Cap’n.” Your gazes held intensely for a few beats before Joel hummed in agreement. Then, movement over your shoulder caught his attention.

“Looks like Tommy’s gatherin’ the troops. Ya better get moving, sweetheart.” Between the term of endearment and the crooked smile, you could have turned into a puddle at the handsome Captain’s feet. Instead, you flashed him your most charming smile and dashed off to join your team for a grueling day of hard work.

And grueling it was as Tommy had you all scrub and hose down every inch of the exterior, check all the equipment, and reorganize the tender storage before doing it all over again to make sure it met his exacting measures. All the while, your mind stayed occupied with thoughts of Captain Joel. Even when you slipped into your bunk, physically wiped out and barely able to call out a ‘good night’ to an equally exhausted Tess, your subconscious allowed Joel to infiltrate your dreams.

[greendaystack]

THE HELLA MEGA TOUR (with festivals)

09/10/2019 Whisky A Go Go, West Hollywood 09/20/2019 iHeart Music Festival 10/30/2019 La Riviera, Madrid 11/02/2019 Plaza de España, Sevilla 02/07/2020 iHeart Radio Theater, Burbank 07/20/2021 Cain's Ballroom, Tulsa 07/24/2021 Globe Life Field, Arlington 07/27/2021 Truist Park, Atlanta 07/29/2021 Minute Maid Park, Houston 07/31/2021 TIAA Bank Field, Jacksonville 08/01/2021 Hard Rock Stadium, Miami Gardens 08/04/2021 Citi Field, New York 08/05/2021 Fenway Park, Boston 08/08/2021 Nationals Park, Washington D.C. 08/10/2021 Comerica Park, Detroit 08/13/2021 Hersheypark Stadium, Hershey 08/15/2021 Wrigley Field, Chicago 08/17/2021 Historic Crew Stadium, Columbus OH 08/19/2021 PNC Park, Pittsburgh PA 08/20/2021 Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia 08/23/2021 Target Field, Minneapolis 08/25/2021 Dick's Sporting Goods Park, Commerce City CO 08/27/2021 Oracle Park, San Francisco 08/29/2021 Petco Park, San Diego 09/01/2021 Summerfest, Milwaukee 09/03/2021 Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles 09/06/2021 T-Mobile Park, Seattle 09/18/2021 Life is Beautiful, Las Vegas 02/12/2022 Super Bowl Music Fest, Los Angeles 03/19/2022 Innings Festival, Tampa FL 04/29/2022 Shaky Knees Festival, Atlanta 06/01/2022 Wuhlheide, Berlin 06/03/2022 Rock im Park 06/04/2022 Rock am Ring 06/07/2022 Forum, Copenhagen 06/09/2022 Colorline Stadium, Alesund 06/11/2022 Tele2 Arena, Stockholm 06/15/2022 I-Days, Milano 06/16/2022 Firenze Rocks 06/18/2022 Rock For People, Czechia 06/19/2022 Ernst-Happel-Stadion, Vienna 06/21/2022 Sportpaleis Merksem, Belgium 06/22/2022 Stadspark, Groningen 06/24/2022 London Stadium 06/25/2022 John Smith's Stadium, Huddersfield 06/27/2022 Marlay Park, Dublin 06/29/2022 Bellahouston Park, Glasgow 07/01/2022 Garorock, France 07/02/2022 Paris La Défense Arena 07/29/2022 Metro, Chicago 07/31/2022 Lollapalooza 08/06/2022 Outside Lands Festival, San Francisco 09/09/2022 Rock in Rio 09/11/2022 Estadio Vélez Sarsfield, Buenos Aires 09/18/2022 Sea Hear Now Festival, Asbury Park NJ 09/22/2022 Hard Rock Live, Hollywood FL 09/24/2022 Firefly Music Festival 10/02/2022 Formula 1 Singapore Grand Prix 10/21/2022 Formula 1 USA Grand Prix, Austin 02/25/2023 Innings Festival, Tempe AZ 07/14/2023 Harley Davidson Homecoming, Milwaukee 07/16/2023 Festival d'été, Québec 09/24/2023 Louder Than Life, Louisville

63 dates, 4 years, 1 pandemic

(1, 3, 4/5, 6)

[three-drink-amy]

Teach You How Forever Feels

Updating every Monday

Alone and struggling in New York after the death of his mother, TK is left with custody of his five-year-old brother, Jonah. With Owen's encouragement, TK moves to Austin for a fresh start, questioning every move he makes as he's thrust into the role of parenthood. But it all leads him to Jonah's new school where he meets Carlos Reyes, the kindergarten teacher. Between pick up and school meetings and chance run ins, TK can't help but feel something for him, even though he knows it can't happen.

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen | chapter fourteen | chapter fifteen | chapter sixteen | chapter seventeen | chapter eighteen | chapter nineteen | chapter twenty

chapter twenty-one