#because i've been drunk one time in my entire life and it was 2 years ago

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for breaking up with my boyfriend because of his older sister?

Title will not make sense without context. For simplicity, let's call my ex B (20) and his sister S (21 almost 22)

So I (20) used to date this guy B. We met through a college summer class and just immediately clicked. We bonded over shared favorite media and characters, career interests etc. A couple weeks later and we decide to start dating. It'd been going really well for about a year so far up until about a week or so ago.

B had mentioned his older sister a few times in passing, but never mentioned her name. He'd only refer to her as "my sister" and she wasn't really brought up often, either. I sometimes asked stuff about having a sibling since I'm an only child, but for the most part she wasn't really a big deal. One day he tells me that she's turning 21 soon and that I should come to his family's to celebrate (they decided to celebrate earlier than her actual birthday since everyone's way too busy for the next month to do anything (jobs plus summer classes you get it)). I say yes, get all pumped up to meet his family (he's hyped them up a lot. Though he didn't mention his older sister, he'd talk about his parents and grandparents a lot) and the day comes and I realize that.. his older sister is one of my exes.

The moment we noticed each other was the most awkward minute I've ever had to endure in my entire life. He introduced me as his partner to her, and we both nodded at each other in greeting (at the time I also took it as a silent agreement to not say anything about our past relationship)

The party goes well, despite the awkwardness. We were both good at pretending nothing was wrong (this will come back in a moment) so the night passed well and we head back to my apartment. The next day I tell him the truth: that his older sister is one of my exes, and that it was a nasty breakup. I'm talking throwing glass kind of breakup (moreso her throwing glass at me). We were both drunk when it happened and things escalated VERY quickly, and afterwards we both went completely no contact. He says he believes me, and we'll just not visit his parent's place when she's there, but unfortunately she literally lives there, so visits would be rare. This sucks for a couple of reasons. 1 He's a huge mommy's/daddy's boy and loves his parents/gparents to death, and 2 if we ever wanted to have any big moment in our lives like marriage, kids etc she'd have to be there, and I just generally wasn't comfortable with that. He says there's nothing he can really do about that and we both sorta get quiet for a bit before he excuses himself to go back to his place, telling me to think about it a bit more. I do, and the next day I call him to break up with him (low to breakup over the phone, I know) and i can hear him start to get a bit choked up before we hang up.

It's been about a week since then and although I'm confident I never want to see her in my life again, I miss my boyfriend and feel awful for putting him through this. But I know there's feasibly no way for us to be together while avoiding his sister for the rest of our lives. So AITA for breaking up with him? Is there something I could've done different?

[leclerc-s]

track 003. te marque

─── ❝ me merezco alguien más que no me, trate tal como una basura que me ame de verdad ❞ ───

masterlist // previous // next

liked by danieljricciardo, maejones, baileywinters and others

isabellaperez no race this week enjoy this eras tour dump. it was a life changing experience. 10/10 would recommend. (we all cried during marjorie. daniel sobbed the entire time. we had to go back for night 2) the urge to quit my job and become daphne's personal photographer is strong.

tagged: daphnejricciardo

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daphnejricciardo you're welcome to join anytime isa!

user17 isabella jpg account when?

↳ isabellaperez don't tempt me

landonorris how come you never take pictures of me this good?

↳ isabellaperez because you aren't photogenic like daphne?

↳ landonorris are you calling me ugly?

↳ isabellaperez well i'm not calling you pretty.

user89 oh my god, she looks so pretty?

user32 how the hell did daniel ricciardo manage to marry daphne fucking jones?

↳ maxverstappen1 we've been asking ourselves that same question for years

↳ user32 oh my god. excuse me while i go scream in a pillow.

danieljricciardo hey, my wife looks great

↳ isabellaperez doesn't she always?

↳ danieljricciardo yes, she does. i love her

↳ user02 daniel will take any and all opportunity to remind people that he loves his wife.

lando norris i've come up with a name for nando and seb

isabella perez and that is?

lando norris papa nando and papa seb

isabella perez OH MY GOD WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT THAT?

daniel ricciardo fucking muppet

bailey winters you gotta give it to him he finally didn't fuck something up

lando norris HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY SORRY FOR LEAKING DAPHNE AND DANIEL'S RELATIONSHIP? bailey winters so many times you muppet

isabella perez what am i missing here?

george russell LANDO ACCIDENTALLY CALLED NANDO DAD YESTERDAY!

isabella perez AND I FUCKING MISSED IT?

fernando alonso yes, it was hilarious.

daniel ricciardo anyone, from the original group chat, remember that time seb and nando got pissed at each other and the group chat was named multi-21 for like a year?

charles leclerc it was still named that when i was added, like 5 years ago mae jones and it was a picture of mark, because yes, i remember lewis hamilton dear god, has it seriously been that long? oscar piastri justice for mark isabella perez amen to that pastry boy!

arthur leclerc added one person

dulce perez ARTURO QUE HICISTE?

logan sargeant yo, who added ollie here?

arthur leclerc i like drama. pierre is rubbing off on me.

isabella perez DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO HAVE YOU BEEN GOSSIPING ABOUT ME AGAIN?

daniel ricciardo no. maybe. yes. but only to arthur and pierre, i swear.

+44 1632 960767 arthur, i like you, i truly do, but what the hell is this? and why is the picture fernando alonso in a pool?

arthur leclerc you're one of us because i said so.

penelope trevino 10 cookies says daphne and daniel adopt him as one of their kids.

carlos sainz 11 cookies says natalia and charles beat them to it. ollie bearman why are you betting cookies? sebastian vettel they're forbidden from betting money ever again. fernando alonso they bet $50,000 on what gender baby leclerc was going to be and no, i didn't confuse the dollar sign with the euros sign lando norris listen, i was drunk. ollie bearman and that's a good excuse because? fernando alonso i like this kid, we're keeping him

lewis hamilton further proving the point that this group chat is full of idiots with the survival instincts of a hamster

max verstappen NAME ONE TIME! sebastian vettel you drank only red bull for 80 hours straight. twice. lewis hamilton isabella drank an unknown liquid for "fun" that liquid turned out to be laundry detergent. she was in the hospital for three days. fernando alonso lando swallowed a lego piece, we had to rush him to emergency services. sebastian vettel charles nearly jumped off a balcony on a dare. he was 15+ stories up. lewis hamilton daniel wanted to adopt a venomous snake fernando alonso pierre, yuki, freya, george, and dulce have all fallen down several flights of stairs and said it was a 'fun slide with bumps'. every single fucking time. isabella perez we're just built different fernando alonso built like a bunch of idiots

liked by danieljricciardo, pierregasly, maejones and others

redbullracing mood because they're telling me i have to "go back to work" after the religious experience that was a daphne jones concert. jeddah gp here we come or whatever. message not approved by our team

tagged: schecoperez, maxverstappen1, danieljricciardo

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📍 redbullracing PIERRE GASLY GO BACK TO ALPINE! STOP LIKING MY POSTS!! CHRISTIAN LEAVE ME ALONE! I'M DOING MY JOB SALTY SPICE!

user64 isabella is so real for that caption. i went to a daphne jones concert and it was the best day of my life.

maxverstappen1 do you live to embarrass us?

↳ redbullracing yes. i played nonsense to christian for a reason

↳ daphnejricciardo what does that mean?

↳ redbullracing nothing!

user92 admin who's your favorite driver on the grid?

↳ redbullracing for legal reasons my uncle, checo (charles)

↳ user92 you're so real for that

↳ redbullracing this comment was not approved by our team

↳ redbullracing CHRISTIAN I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL LEAVE FOR MERCEDES IF YOU DON'T KNOCK IT OFF!

user21 christian seems like a tired dad trying to rein in isabella and her love for ferrari

maxverstappen1 you're not allowed to leave unless i retire, that was our deal

↳ redbullracing THEN TELL CHRISTIAN TO KNOCK IT OFF!!

georgerussell63 we don't want you here

↳ redbullracing well toger gave me a job offer and i declined. so suck on that russell george

user06 TOGER WOLFF YOU LEAVE OUR PRECIOUS RED BULL ADMIN ALONE!

↳ landonorris she's not precious trust me.

↳ redbullracing wow. that block button looks real good lando norizz.

liked by danieljricciardo, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and others

redbullracing anyways here's the superior red bull duo because our current drivers are pissing me off. (multi-21 vibes)

tagged: sebastianvettel, aussiegrit

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📍 redbullracing damn guess we know who the favorites are because i’m hearing no salty spice complaints

user81 oscar liking posts because mark is in them will never fail to make me soft

danieljricciardo i thought seb and i were your favorites?

↳ redbullracing top 3 drivers for sure. seb, mark, then you, charles then max. i can't say my uncle because that would be biased.

↳ danieljricciardo so you like australians?

↳ redbullracing DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO!

↳ user10 why do i get the feeling this is one of their inside jokes?

↳ user61 because it probably is

isabella sat on a table near red bull hospitality with her buzzing phone near her. it was taking everything in her not to pick and listen to the other voice. oscar, who happened to be walking by saw the girl sitting with a faraway look in her eyes. he looked around, hoping one of her friends was near, with no such luck he approached her and sat with her. she didn’t even look up to greet him, which seemed strange from the girl who greeted everyone.

“bella?” oscar questioned, “are you going to answer that?”

“no,” she whispered, “i’m not supposed to.”

“why not?”

“ex.”

“ah,” oscar replied. he looked at her teary eyes before reaching for her phone and answering, “hello? may i ask why i’ve been getting so many calls from this number? isabella? no, i don’t know who that is. you have the wrong number."

oscar looked at isabella, “problem solved? i hope. if he calls again let me know.”

isabella looked up at him, for the first time since he’d sat down, she reached across the table and hugged him, “thank you but you lied to him.” somewhere in her mind it was still engraved to never lie to austin. he never hit her, but the verbal assaults were still bad, sometimes she prefered he would've hit her. but she knew that if it would've gotten to that point, he would've had several f1 drivers and one team principal on his ass. as much as she disliked austin, she didn't want her friends or uncle in prison for killing someone who wasn't worth it.

“about?” oscar questioned, breaking isabella out of her trance.

“not knowing isabella.”

“oh, i didn’t lie, i only know bella.”

isabella huffed, “stop calling me that.”

“no,” oscar smiled before getting up and begin walking away, “i like calling you bella because it annoys you.”

isabella found herself smiling at the boy walking away before shaking her head and standing up herself to walk back into red bull hospitality. she walked in with a smile still gracing her face, something the red bull drivers and reserve driver were quick to notice. checo couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his niece smile that genuinely.

“todo bien?” he asked her. isabella nodded, “everything’s okay tio. lo prometo.”

duckling puta madre

super max oh no, what happened?

honey badger SEBASTIAN! WE NEED YOUR WORDS OF WISDOM!

duckling how does one get rid of feelings? i'm feeling things.

paddock dad i think you're being a tad bit dramatic duckling CONSIDERING HOW MY LAST RELATIONSHIP WENT I'M ALLOWED TO BE DRAMATIC SEBASTIAN

super max we should ask mark for advice on this.

paddock dad why would we ask mark for advice on this? what does mark have to do with this?

honey badger she's in love with oscar? the mclaren rookie?

paddock dad is this what the operation is about?

duckling what operation?

super max so you do have feelings for oscar?

duckling no. why would i? i'm asking about ollie.

honey badger no one actually believes you have feelings for oliver. not even you believe it. besides, you're the one who said you would never date someone younger than you.

duckling oh i know, but it riles arthur up so much i just have to make the joke everyday.

paddock dad so do you like oscar?

duckling it's just a crush. it'll go away by next week.

paddock dad and if it doesn't? duckling i'll ignore it until it goes away. paddock dad that's not healthy duckling my last relationship wasn't either, that's why we are where we are today.

lance stroll if i commit murder in miami, someone better help me hide the body no questions asked.

logan sargeant i have so many questions?? lance stroll I SAID NO QUESTIONS GEORGE WASHINGTON!!

fernando alonso i think you're father's an idiot.

max verstappen who are we murdering?

esteban ocon and why are we murdering them?

fernando alonso lawrence stroll and austin riley

isabella perez why would we be murdering austin in miami?

daniel jones-ricciardo DO NOT FUCKING TELL ME LAWRENCE STROLL DID WHAT I THINK HE DID??

lance stroll if you're thinking what i think you are, the answer is yes.

mae jones oh you have got to be kidding me.

isabella perez i don't get it.

daphne jones-ricciardo isa, sweetie, aston martin invited austin to the miami grand prix.

isabella perez oh. excuse me while i go jump off a fucking bridge.

isabella perez logan, what’s the best bridge in florida to jump off of?

freya vettel lawrence stroll is on my hitlist

oscar piastri i'm so confused, who the hell is austin riley?

dulce perez he's isa's ex, who we don't like because he's a dick. lando norris just, listen to logical and that should tell you everything you need to know about that dickhead.

oscar piastri is that the guy who was calling you today? the one i answered?

isabella perez that would be him.

oscar piastri he sounded like dick.

daniel jones-ricciardo added one person

daniel jones-ricciardo checo, before you leave, again, know that the mission has changed.

checo perez to what?

dulce perez to keep isabella away from austin at the miami grand prix

checo perez puta madre

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! heyyyyy, i say as if i haven't updated this series in like two weeks. i'm not going to lie, i got too busy with the other ones and then i took like a week off but i'm back! hopefully i can get updates for this entire series out sooner. but hope you liked this one.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[yikesmary]

i just can't forget about bets shua singing 2 minus 1 in his entire soul like he's been on divorce, failed relationship, heartbreak, and fighting for his child's custody like i badly want a fic about ittt vv bro still in love with yn tho (I've been searching for a perfect writer who may be the best on writing these kind of fics and I thought about uuuu)

CLOCKWORK — joshua hong x reader

summary: where it wasn’t supposed to be like this. but it did.

notes: anon why’d you have to make a request so enticing to write ;-;. this was so sad for me to write IM CRYING. also please give feedback?? this is the first time in awhile i’ve written angst so i might be a little rusty.

anon i’m sorry if i interpreted the request wrong but i hope i did it correctly 🤞

warnings: ANGST. there’s no comfort, only angst. everyone loses in this. mentions of your child, but he doesn’t make an appearance.

join my taglist!

You knew that you had to divorce Joshua the minute when you looked at him and all you felt was emptiness. Unlike the utter love and devotion you felt for him in the beginning of your relationship, you felt… nothing.

It started with the mini arguments that ended in both of you guys apologizing. Then it escalated; fights that would last for a couple of days to full on screaming matches where you’d both yell until neither of you had the energy or voice to anymore.

Looking back, neither of you were at fault. You two just happened to be not compatible with each other.

But that didn’t mean you stopped trying. Because you tried.

It just didn’t work.

And even with a child, a precious little boy named Siwoo, it seemed like nothing could work.

And you realized this in the midst of a fight with Joshua that made him leave in the middle of it and the slamming of the door awoke your son, who was around a year old at the time, who then started to cry his heart out.

So you filed for a divorce.

It’d been a year since the divorce.

The process hadn’t been easy for you, at first. When you brought up the idea of divorce, Joshua immediately shut it down and used every excuse in existence.

But he must’ve seen how much the fighting drained you, because once he saw your sad eyes which only lit up in the presence of yours and his’ son, he agreed to the divorce.

The divorce was amicable, for the most part. You guys decided that going to court to settle everything was too much, so you guys talked it out. It was probably the longest the two of you have gone without fighting each other, which was depressing when you thought back on it.

But, in the end, you and Joshua settled on everything. For now, you would have Siwoo live with you in the house you guys had purchased while married since he was so young and maybe if he was older, he’d go back and forth with living between the both of you.

You had brought up the idea of selling the house and splitting the money, but Joshua insisted that you keep it.

“It’s your dream house. I don’t want you to have to throw it away because of me,”

So, now, you lived in a house made for 4 people with only you and Siwoo living together. Joshua visits when he can and sometimes he even sleeps over to spend time with Siwoo.

Life was okay.

“Joshua, what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know where else to go,”

It was evident he was drunk. His shirt was disheveled, his shoes in one hand while a bottle that contained who-knows-what in his other. He could barely keep his eyes open and he was swaying so hard you feared he could topple over any minute.

You ushered him in the house, concerned that your neighbors will start talking and the last thing you needed was nosy neighbors.

“Where’s Siwoo?” Joshua slurred, putting down his bottle of alcohol on a nearby table, and sitting on the couch that you decided to keep, along with everything else in the house because it was too painful to throw away, even if it caused you pain at the same time.

“He’s at my parents. He wanted to spend time with his grandparents,” you informed him.

He nodded then stayed silent.

“Look, Joshua, I don’t know what you’re doing here—“

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

“What?” you asked, not understanding what he was saying.

“This. Us. We were supposed to be happy and Siwoo was supposed to have a sibling,”

“You should go—“

“I went on a date today,” he suddenly said, cutting you off.

You stiffened at the news, but didn’t say anything. It seemed like Joshua wasn’t waiting for a response because he said, “The guys said I needed to move on. The divorce was done and I was finally single. So I let Seungkwan arrange a date for me with this girl from his workplace,”

“I don’t think I should hear this—“

“I couldn’t focus on the date. Ask me why.” Joshua said, his statement not leaving room for arguments.

You sighed and asked, “Why couldn’t you focus?”

“Because she wasn’t you,” he softly said, his slightly glassy eyes looking at you.

You took a deep breath, not expecting that answer.

“Joshua, you’re drunk. Maybe you should sleep it off,” was all you said, before turning to leave.

Before you could exit the living room and go to your room, Joshua called your name.

You turned and he said, “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,”

You turned away, not wanting to risk him seeing how you started to tear up.

“I’m sorry, too,”

And with that, you went to your room and cried yourself to sleep.

Joshua, in the living room, felt so close yet so far from you, also crying himself to sleep.

But the next day, the both of you would pretend that nothing happened.

Like clockwork.

taglist (crossed out means that tumblr didn’t let me tag you): @belladaises @smileyneos @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunmochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv

[mr2swap]

"hocus pocus"

-Old man!! I've been looking everywhere for you! What the fuck did you do to my phone or why can't you answer one of my fucking calls? Fuck! and you even blocked me from Instagram!-

I was finally going to get rid of this from my grandfather Jackson's body, it was the longest week of my life! Two weeks ago I was cursed by that fucking witch who fucked me when I was drunk at a college party, I'll never have more than one girlfriend in my entire life! I'll be a single guy for a while!

For a couple of years, I'm living with my grandfather, when I started university I had to move in with him my parents couldn't afford an apartment for me so my grandfather offered to stay in my dad's old room, that would be great I didn't I would have to pay nothing and I could dedicate myself to going to the gym full time! I won a football scholarship! And the semester hadn't started in a long time, for me every day was amazing, well I was doing bad in most of my classes but besides that everything was great in my life before I got cursed by that bitch!

She met my grandfather once I brought her home to fuck her in my room, in fact, he was there too when he threw his "hocus pocus" on me and my grandfather, finally, I will stop being a bag of farts! after begging him every day to return to my body he finally agreed to change us back!

Hey Josh! You came at the right time! I was about to get out of the water- my grandfather slowly got out of the pool and stretched out his long legs to remove the rest of the chlorine from the collection as he modeled some pretty flashy blue shorts that I would swear are brand new I would never wear something that small!

-Get changed quickly in the car, we're going to go to Jessica's house so she can reverse this and finally get everything back to normal.- Before drying off with the small towel I had on the edge of the pool I grab what used to be my phone, text for 2 minutes, and completely ignore myself.

-sorry for screwing you at first! This is the best thing that could have happened in my life

My grandfather pulled those tiny shorts down to his knees and with the same towel began to dry between my balls and on my butt. After he threw that same towel my face slowly dressed in my black pants AND that new jacket he wears everywhere.

-I'm not going to waste any more time with this lie, I'm not going back to that garbage bag I used to call a body, don't worry about college I'm out of that shit anyway with your GPA you were probably going to fail the whole year! -

-Whatever! We can talk about it in the car but I really need you to get in right now!-He finished getting dressed and looked up and down in the mirror on my cell phone to fix his hair and I suspect take some pictures.

-I know you'll do well! you know my credit card number and the government sends me my pension every day, forgive me for the last charge of the motorcycle, I will send you money as soon as I settle in another city.-

I had almost forgotten what it was like to be young and not overweight and over 70 years old, now I saw the slim and muscular body and a lot of lustful thoughts invaded my mind.

I should be angry but the curse fucks my mind more every day. I couldn't take my eyes off his chest and abs sticking out of his jacket as he got on the parked motorcycle.

-I know that now I'm not very smart but one of my new admirers says that I could earn a lot of money on the internet and that I could even leave all this shit behind, don't worry I'll be the one to contact you.-

-I know that in all aspects my body is shit! But I hope you enjoy your little dick as much as you can, I know it can be very sensitive if you touch it in the right place, believe me, you'll like it- I couldn't answer him because after saying that he started the motorcycle.

What am I supposed to do now? Well… Probably the first thing I should do is take this towel to a more private place, I'm sure it still has a bit of the smell on it!

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories, see similar stories on my patreon, you can also join my discord if you are interested in role-playing about bodyswap, possession and transformation, m2m!

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Dead Of Night (Rules, Part 2.)

Description: Coming back home was a doozie - it felt like starting anew. Meeting your dad's new best friend, however, turned your life upside down - and it was the two of you who had to set the record straight and figure out how to move on.

Part Summary: The night in the company of two Texan gentlemen is going well - Joel and Tommy are ensuring you're having a blast. Joel even goes up and beyond in this regard. It was too good to be true... Until it fucking wasn't.

Warnings: dad's best friend daddy joel (i don't think there's more to say to that) | age gaps all around, baby - joel being approximately 33 (reader being 8 years his junior), putting sarah around 13 years of age and sam at 18, reader's parents in late forties/early fifties | alcohol consumption | smoking (implied and active) | BILLIARD SHENANIGANS WITH THE MILLER BROTHERS™️ | NSFW activities - oral (f!receiving), sex at the bathroom stalls, inappropriate thoughts | i guess potential sub-con (we are drunk but very consensual) | we love a consensual king joel miller

A/N: The 'I like this song' is Orville's Peck Dead Of Night (name inspo, yay) - yanow, when it's late a party, they play slow and sappy songs to calm people before going down and to let all the lovey-dovey couples suck soul outta each other. And I love that.

Tagging: My sweetest, one and only @missdictatorme.

Word count: 10.1K - I cannot express how sorry I am for the length, but I had too much fun with this and didn't wanna pull out a two-parter with nothing exciting in it. I divided it into sections the best I could for easier reading.

Masterlist: H E R E | Playlist: H E R E

Leaving Joel and his compadre outside, you decided to spend some time playing pool - the elderly gentlemen occupying it were kind enough to let you play a few games. It was fun watching Anne getting tipsy, balancing on her tiptoes as she leaned her entire upper body onto the table, her tongue sticking out of her mouth due to concentration. You've won most of the games (mainly because neither of you knew the billiard or pool or whatever you've been playing), but Anne insisted on calling it a draw. Cheeky little pup, that's what she was. Just as you prepared the cues for the guys who'd landed them for you, a familiar Texan drawl could be heard behind you.

"Howdy, gentlemen." - The nameless guy greeted, nodding at the guys waiting for their pool table to be free. The elderly gentlemen nodded at the newcomers. - "Would y'all mind us havin' a few quick games with the ladies? We'll let you be after, promise. " "'s yours, son. Take ya time." "Yessir." - The guy thanked, walking over to Anne and pointing at the cue. - "May I? You're doin' it wrong, sugar." "'M not. But if you think you're more experienced..." "Been playin' pool with that rascal over there since we were tweens. Trust me on this one." - With that, he carefully tore the cue out of Anne's palm, seizing the cue chalk as well.

"Don't mind him, he's a show-off." - When his husky, melodic voice hit your ears, it almost gave you a heart attack - you were so preoccupied with watching Anne giving the guy a stare of death that you forgot Joel might be around too. You definitely didn't expect him to sneak up on you like that. "'s my technique bad, too?" "Worst I've seen." - He muttered, snickering. - "There's no technique to chalk a cue properly, don't worry. He's just makin' stuff up to be interestin'." - Joel explained, making you snicker too. You've handed him the cue nonetheless, making him put his beer down - he'd been skilled with it, you noticed; the two must've been playing since they were tweens, just as the other guy said.

Soon, you became too preoccupied with Joel's hands to care about some stupid pool - based on the callouses and small scars along his fingers and knuckles, he must've been used to working with his hands. Now that he'd folded the shirt's sleeves up to his elbows, you could see all the prominent veins and other scars, some of which were pretty deep. Without you trying to resist, your mind spiraled into imaginations of these palms taking handfuls of your ass, kneading it like bread. How would it feel to hold his hand? Would he let you entwine your fingers with his? How would it feel if he'd slap you - either teasingly or amidst all the heat and lust, say... Fucking you from the back? How would it feel when his palms would spread your thighs apart, his fingers sliding inside you? How would it... That's when you realized Joel was talking to you, watching you ogling at his forearms for a good minute. Your eyes jumped from his forearms to his face, looking at him dumbfoundedly - Joel scoffed upon seeing your expression.

"Huh?" "Was askin' 'bout your name, cutie, but don't take me wrong - wouldn't mind callin' you names." - Leaning closer, Joel gave you a warm smile. - "Have I interrupted somethin' in that head 'f yours, sweet girl?" - Oh God, he knew - he fucking knew. You were busted, flustered upon hearing his implication. Your brain blanked momentarily as you tried to come up with an answer. "Y/N." - You mumbled, mesmerized with the amused look in his eyes. - "Name's Y/N." "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, I see."

"You two done with starin' into each other's eyes?" - The nameless guy called out, startling you - Joel remained as cool as a cucumber, his eyes following each move you made. Trying to wave it off, you walked to the table, leaning your palms into the side. "Yup. Bet our cue is chalked up way better than yours." - Cocky tone present in your voice made the nameless guy grin. Following up on the statement, you raised eyebrows in Joel's direction for support. The man didn't let you wait for too long. "Don't ya worry. I'll win it thanks to how you chalked it... And for you." - Joel added silently, brushing his palm on your lower back before he walked straight to the table - the first game was reserved for the two buddies to warm up. Even this quick, seemingly meaningless gesture had you shivering.

"You guys get to it. I'll go for a cig and get you some beer while you two clash it out." - Anne offered, grasping your hand in hers. Then she turned her head toward the elderly gentlemen. - "Y'all good? Want us to bring ya somethin'?" "We're good, sweetheart, thanks for askin'." "You asked them, but don't ask me?" - The nameless guy whined, looking at Anne with a well-portrayed offense. Joel snorted, carefully putting the pool balls into the triangle. "Cut it off, Miss Dramatic. Imma get you both a glass of Jack, 'f course. Do I look like a monster?"

"Thanks, Anne." - Both guys muttered in unison. Joel poked the balls first, having them scattered all over the table. Then he grabbed the chalk, furrowing while thinking about his next step. "You better win, Tommy, or I'm pouring your glass down my throat." - Oh, his name was Tommy. Joel's buddy Tommy. Noted. "And who's bein' dramatic, huh? Go now, you two." - Tommy waved in your direction, laughing while he tried to figure out the approach to his next poke.

After letting Anne have her smoke break, it was time to make your way to the bar. It wasn't easy - people were taking a break from dancing and started ordering their drinks. All the people smoking outside were coming back in, ordering new rounds of cocktails, shots, beers, and what have you. It took a moment, but you got four beers, two Jacks, and two shots of Chupito, carrying the alcohol back to the pool table. Anne started running her mouth again as you approached the pool tables. "You believe me now, or..?" "Believe you what?" "Believe me what I said about Joel? He's fuckin' smitten." "Joel being smitten? Are you deaf or just purposely ignore how Tommy talks to you? Who's smitten here?"

"Ah, I see. Too bad he ain't my type." - Anne sighed, looking at the duo debating over one of the balls' and its position. You had no idea what was wrong with it, but both looked hot debating. - "Suppose Tommy looks like a fun guy overall - nothin' for me, though... Ehhh... Maybe as a friend? That could work out. Anyway, stop deflectin', girl. You and Joel, that's the topic. I can sense the vibes are present, the chemistry is flowin', he can't take his eyes off you, calls you sweet pet names, watches you when you don't pay attention and grins to himself. To add to the evidence, he touched your back even though he had zero reason two, and don't think we missed how he snuck his palm up your waist and prolonged the greetin' for as long as he could... C'mon, I've seen you starin' at him. And he saw it too - and that old bastard was complimented by it." - Well, it was time to stop pretending, you assumed. You couldn't counter everything she just dropped on your ass - Anne and Tommy saw it all anyway.

"Fine, fine. Thing is... I've never felt like this about anyone. I feel like we've clicked right away, not a word needed to be said. Girl, that man's smoking hot - have you seen him? Heard him?" - You whined, watching Joel chalking the cue up again while watching Tommy prepare for his poke. - "It's just... Scary. Bizzare, yannow? This doesn't happen with strangers all the time. Why me? That's the main question. What does he see in me? Is he just pulling my sock? Would it be a hook-up, or would he want to see me again? What if he does this on the reg, just pulls random women in the club, fucks them and goes home?" "You think he wouldn't wanna see you again? That's what's bothering you?" - Anne stopped in her tracks, looking at you with disbelief. - "Even if! Live your life - drag him to the bathroom stalls, fuck the soul outta him, and make him remember this night forever, girl. But, to be fair... Takin' the way he stares at us right now into account, just to make sure we hadn't run away, tells me this guy will definitely wanna see you again. On top of that, the birds chirped that they hadn't seen Joel smitten like this in a long time either." "... Tommy told you that?" "Shush now. Just be hot and live your best life. Joel's fuckin' mesmerized and so are you." - She muttered as you approached the table. Cheerfully, she waved the glasses in her hand, earning applause from the duo. - "How's it goin', you two? Figured out who's the bigger alfa?"

"Kicked his sorry ass, as always." - Joel muttered, letting Tommy set the table for you, putting balls into the triangle, ensuring everything was set right. "You clearly cheated." - Tommy whined, accepting his beer and glass Jack from Anne, the other one landing right into Joel's palm. "Or maybe, you're just ass at pool?" - Anne chimed in, smiling sweetly right into Tommy's face - this earned an earnest chuckle from the gentlemen watching your matches unravel. Just like before, Tommy snickered in disbelief, turning right to Anne animatedly. Before you knew, the two were arguing again.

"She's not being too nice to Tommy. Sorry for that." "Don't worry 'bout him, pretty girl. He likes 'em spicy. 's good for him to let someone deflate his ego now and then." "Mhm, noted." - You and Joel were leaning into an empty table next to the pool, sipping on your beers, standing with aptly distance between you two. As you watched the two bickering (something regarding the balls' placement and Tommy's balls if you hadn't misheard), the question slipped past your lips on its own. Alcohol made you courageous, it always did. - "And what do you like, Texas?" "What?" - Joel asked, ensuring that you've truly dropped the question, that he wasn't imagining it or mishearing. By that point, he was scooping over to you, his shoulder nudging into yours, his other palm finding the small of your back again, nesting there, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. "I asked, what is it that you like?" - His face was close enough for you to feel his breath on the apple of your cheek as you cocked your head to him, innocently taking a sip of beer. He was at a loss for words for a bit, licking his lips as he tried to come up with an answer.

Just as Joel leaned closer to your ear and rubbed his nose in your hair, the grip on your t-shirt growing stonger, Anne turned to you, swinging her palms around in disbelief.

"That can't be right! No! Tommy, I know you're fuckin' with me. Joel, please tell him he's... Oh... Oh, fuck, sorry." - The girl giggled, growing flustered as she realized she'd just ruined your moment. Trying to salvage the situation, Joel cleared his throat, put his beer down, and grabbed the cue. Cool as a cucumber, just like before - except the blush spreading on his cheeks. The blush made you snicker, it was cute. "Ready for another round?" "Betcha ass. Imma blow smoke all up your arse, Y/N!" "I don't think that's what you meant to say, Anne." "Whatever, I sounded Bri'sh 'enough, didn't I?" - She reiterated, snatching the cue right from Tommy's palm, pointing her finger at him. - "If you try to talk into how I'm playin' pool one time..." - Aaand... They were bickering again.

"I know shit about pool and billiard." - You confessed in a whisper, having Joel hum while chalking your cue. - "Won by pure luck each time." "For starters, we're playin' billiard, sweetheart. Want some assistance? I definitely know more than that moron." "... I deadass thought it's a pool table, on my honor. Help? Would be brilliant, thank you." - As you leaned to take the cue, Joel pushed it out of your reach, knitting his eyebrows together. He seemed confused. "Are you really British?" "I won't tell, cowboy. Better if I keep you guessing for a bit. Makes me look more mysterious." - This time, you victoriously grabbed the cue, walking towards the table to offer Anne a handshake of truce and a good sport. You've done it before each game - the elderly gentlemen liked your sportsmanship.

Anne was doing the shot-up - leaning her entire upper body into the table, pushing her tongue out as she assessed the balls with a furrow, tapping her foot to Toto's Hold the Line. The shot-up was good, she even managed to score one, taking the striped balls for herself. Clear balls it was, then. "Damn." - Tommy sighed, nodding to himself. - "Well played." "Don't underestimate my billiard abilities ever again. I'm already playing leagues better than you." "She ain't wrong." - Joel chimed in, leading you closer to the table. Just like he planned, this gave the duo another reason to bicker, ignoring whatever it was you two were doing.

"My goal is to put all the clears into pockets, no?" "Fast learner, I see." "As if..." - Leaning onto the table, you did your best to replicate the finger stance your father taught you. - "Pops used to be a billiard enthusiast when I was little - that was before he fucked up his back. Did his damnest to teach me all about it." "Yeah, can tell it's been a while back time since you last played. Only blind people wouldn't see how bad that finger position is. Keep your hand like that, and it's gonna cramp in no time. C'mere." - As if he'd done it a million before, Joel walked up next to you, leaning over your back - his chest was pressed to your torso, his arms copied yours, and his chin settled on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered so hard you were worried about it jumping out of your chest. You didn't hear a word from whatever Joel tried teaching you, but God bless him for attempting anyway. Completely tuned out, you just nodded along, enjoying how his felt body pressed this close to yours (hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder), fingers of his left palm ghosting over yours, the other caressing the small of your back. God, Joel smelled so good - wood, soil, hints of cologne mixed with his musk? Absolute fucking heaven.

"Can you do that for me?" - The guy asked, turning his head to you, boring his eyes into yours. He was so close, his nose just mere inches away from yours - if you'd lean just in slightly, you could kiss him. "Do what?" - You whispered in an answer, having him snicker - the vibration ran through your body like lightning, igniting the bundle of nerves between your legs. This was when you realized you were fucked, at Joel's mercy. Shuddering and trying to keep a serious face on, Joel brought your attention to the posture of your hand, sweeping his thumb over your upper hand. "Keep your hand like this, pretty girl. It'll work better than whatever you were tryin' to create before." - Leaning away from you to let you play, he squeezed your hip to wish you the best of luck.

The moment he did so, a quiet whimper left your mouth, the cue bumping into the white ball at full speed - letting you score your first pocket. You were absentmindedly staring in front of yourself, your heart jumping right to your throat. Joel heard the whimper. It was written all over his fucking grin. He was also smart enough to put two and two together. If you reacted like that, how would you react once he's balls deep inside you? How would your sweet voice sound whimpering, whining, begging, frantically whispering his name? Joel hoped you'd let him find out.

The rest of the games were uneventful - whenever you and Anne played, the two men were sure to talk your head off, teasing you and pointing out what you did wrong. Tommy and Anne stuck to their bickering, their mutual insults getting more playful and out-of-pocket with each shot they downed. Joel stuck with the physical approach, trying to make you understand what to do and when to do it... Which meant you learned absolute fucking shit, being too busy drooling over him. His palms grew more daring the more comfortable you seemed around him - he stopped drinking in the middle of the third billiard match, saying 'He's had 'nough for the night' - Tommy immediately rebutting 'You sure that's the reason?'. Once, you'd swear his palm patted your ass before you poked, making you hit the black ball into the pocket, letting you win the game. 'Thank me later, cutie', Joel murmured into your ear with a wicked grin.

Whenever the guys were on, seven people commented on their match simultaneously - you, Anne, and the five pops watching you play. Whoever they were, you like these old geezers - they were fun to be around. To avenge you, each of the elderly ensured Tommy and Joel wouldn't come out of the match unscathed. Drunk and satisfied, you left the pool table around eleven, shaking hands with the elderly folk who kept you company most of the night. Everyone except Joel was pissed by the time you rolled around the bar, ordering a shot of vodka each. Hell, you've been mixing so much you were sure you'd end up sleeping through the next day. However, it was easy to get pissed in such good company - Tommy kept on coming up with various jokes (hit-or-miss situation there, really), having Anna cackle at each of them (she was blackout drunk, you were pretty sure).

Joel, while not saying much, hadn't moved away from you since you left the pool table - whatever you did, whoever you talked to, the man was behind you. His eyes observed every gesture and expression with a warm gaze, smiling warmly... But not creepily. It was flattering, having the biggest stunner inside the club watching over you. Made you feel special. Regarding what Tommy said earlier (that Joel hadn't been this smitten with anyone in a long time), he wasn't lying - didn't happen since Joel's late wife Angela, actually. Frankly, he was just as in the dark as you were. It wasn't easy to name what had gotten into him, but all he knew was that you're the fire, and he's the moth. Each time you moved, the magnet within you made him follow. Each word was a syren's call, each look a glance into a paradise. Chemistry was the main reason why you two got along this well, that much Joel realized - however, the longer you'd been around, the more captivated he was becoming. Everything about you made him lose his mind; your mixed accents, tapping of your boot into the rhythm, shaky breaths escaping your mouth whenever his fingers ghosted over any part of your body. Each detail, even the easily missable, got him fascinated. You had him mesmerized, took his breath away, had his head in a chokehold. Just as you were at his mercy, he was at yours.

Anne and Joel stuck to the bar when you finally took the dancefloor by storm - whatever you and Tommy were up to, it didn't bore any similarity to actual dancing. It was nice, seeing you laugh so hard, tiptoeing on Tommy's shoes while he clumsily turned around, holding your frame impossibly close to his body. He wasn't trying to pull you or seduce you - it was just hard to dance for two people. "Yannow..." - Anne mumbled from her drink, still watching as you danced. It was almost midnight - the club was closing soon, so most of the fast, heavy-hitting pop got switched for slower country songs. Songs for heavily intoxicated couples. - "I don't think I've seen her actin' like this 'round anyone. And I've known her for 20 years by this point." "Tommy can be a real charmer when he wants to, you're right." - Joel admitted silently, sipping on his lemonade - the same lemonade you made fun of just five minutes earlier. Instead of a response, Anne snickered and shook her head lightly. "Ain't talkin' 'bout Tommy, and we both know that... Drop the fuckin' act." - The girl muttered, losing her balance for a bit - Joel was there to catch her, carefully helping her back onto the stool. He didn't answer, just hummed for Anne to continue.

"Promise you'll be nice to her. Whether it's for tonight or longer, just... Be nice to her. And if you won't be..." "Lemme guess, kiddo - you'll find me and cut my dick off, won't ya?" - Joel grinned, watching Anne teasingly. She smiled, shaking her head again; she liked Joel's sense of humor and demeanor - he seemed like a solid, trustworthy guy. Albeit selfish, but reliable enough to keep his word. "Somethin' like that but ten times worse. You don't wanna cross Anne Marie Jones." "Yes, ma'am." - Joel nodded, tipping his imaginary hat off while bowing a bit. - "I'll go for a dance. Wanna join?" - She nodded in agreement, reaching for Joel's hand in hopes not to slip and fall flat on her face.

"Almost five hours. 's a good score." "Of what? Five hours of..." "You pretendin' that you don't wanna dance." "Were you countin' this whole time? Strong-minded's what you are, my compliments." "Stop and go get her, tiger. Thomas!" - She shrieked, waving at Joel's younger brother, her face filled with excitement. The said younger brother carefully helped you step off his shoes, thanking you for the dances, even bowing just to amuse you. You needed a break - your tummy hurt from laughter, and you were sweaty and thirsty.

"'s my time to be on the bench, huh?" - You asked as Joel stepped closer to you, putting his hand on your waist. When his other hand joined, your eyes frantically searched for an explanation - the only thing you saw, however, was the warmth of his gaze. - "Thought you don't do dancin'." "Haven't done it in a fairly long time. 's time to switch things up." "You changin' the rules for once?" "Hmhm." - Joel could feel your fingers creeping on his arms - his exposed forearms, up to his shoulders before finally entwining behind his neck. Your nails gently scratched his skin, lightly enough not to leave marks, but intensely enough to leave a trail of tingling sensation behind - each inch of his skin you touched started burning, and his dick started growing hard and pleasantly warm in his pants. - "It's worth breakin' the rules when someone's worth it." "Am I worth it?" "Without a doubt in my mind."

No matter how drunk you were, your mind screamed that something was wrong there, that you should leave Joel at the dancefloor, call for a cab, and never look back - this man was a stunner in his best years, not old enough to have back pains and crackly knees but not young enough to be hot-blooded and wanting to fuck for the fun of it. You've seen the hot-blooded type in London a million times, and Joel was different. His demeanor, compared to theirs, was calm and collected. This man wasn't forcing you into anything that hadn't crossed your mind already - his kind smile and gentle touches made you relaxed, letting you realize how desperate you wanted this. How desperately you wanted him. The question still hadn't been answered - why you? Why not any of the beautiful women in the club? Women his age? There were a lot of them, one prettier than the other. Why was it you who had been blessed with the attention of this Adonis with gentle yet assuring touch, with tender, lazy (and also hot as fuck) smile, and watchful gaze?

"I'm a horrible dancer." - You weren't willing to disrupt the intimacy by asking questions - the answers haunted you more than the question itself. Licking your lips, you stepped closer, securing your arms around his neck. "Doesn't seem to me." "Have you seen how I danced with Tommy? Kicked his shin like twenty times." "'s what he deserves, wouldn't worry about it too much." "Doesn't solve the problem at hand." "I have a solution." - Joel mumbled, halting his moves. You were looking at him with an amused furrow, trying to figure out what he was up to - it didn't work, but at least you could carelessly stare at him, memorize each muscle of his face in case you'd never see him again. "Go to town, cowboy. Tell me."

It wasn't a matter of describing. Instead, Joel pushed a few strands of hair off your forehead and face, his eyes taking each detail in. Even though he had thick fingers, callused hands, and big hands, his touches were feather-light - if he hadn't been holding his other arm around your waist, you'd suspect he wasn't even real. All the couples around were still moving at a lazy, slow pace, cuddling as the slow song progressed, but your world froze for a bit. To let Joel know you trust him and want this, your palms started repeating the movements of his fingers - slowly dragging along his jaw, down his neck, to his chin, cupping the apple of his cheek, thumb dragging along the sweet spot under his eyes, putting his damp curls away from his forehead. "Still wanna lemme show you?" "Stop talking and thinking about it too hard, Joel." - Joel felt your weight shifting as you tiptoed, your breasts clashing with his chest as you pressed your body onto his - one of your elbows leaned into his shoulder, your fingers entangling in the hair at the back of his head.

You've been the one to kiss him - one palm grabbing his shirt, pulling him closer; the other still entangled in his hair pulling him away, giving the kiss the right edge. A mix of desperation, desire, and unsaid worries. While your lips mashed, his hands got to exploring - your shoulders, shoulder blades, your back, the small of it, and then, finally, that sweet, sweet fuckin' ass in the tightest piece of clothing he'd seen. He'd swear you're vibrating under his touch, lust getting the better of you - the kiss got rougher, teeth clashing, tongues entwining, lip biting, whining, and quiet moans escaping without either of you wanting them to...

It wasn't clean, but it definitely was the hottest fucking shit and the best kiss Joel had in the last few years. "How does... What does it have to with dancin'?" - You whispered into his ear after you pulled away, nesting your chin on his shoulder, clinging onto him as if he'd disappear if you'd let him go. Slowly, you started moving in the rhythm again, a pleasant male voice singing some kind of country ballad. It was lovely. "Nothin', little lady. Just a poor excuse to do what I've been waitin' for the whole night, 's all." "You damn rascal." "That a bad thing?" "I'm fond of men who make me laugh." - Your playful tone made Joel chuckle, the vibrations carrying onto your body. He gently pulled you closer, kissing your neck while humming at your smell - he'd remembered the scent of your perfume and shampoo, and it was nice, but mixed with alcohol, Tommy and Anne's cigarette smoke, and your musk was even better. You've smelled like a good night, like a lot of laughter, sinfully beautiful.

"Think it hadn't helped yet... The method 'f yours." "Strange, helps me every damn time." - Joel played along, letting you drop back to your heels just so he could look you in the eyes. Even though the club was humid, hot as all hell and the air smelled of alcohol, cigarette and weed smoke, sweat, and too many perfumes mixed into one, Joel missed the warmth and softness of your body the moment when your heels touched the ground, putting a few inches between your bodies. "Didn't sell me on it, anyway." "My apologies, ma'am. Anythin' I can do to remedy the situation?" "Think you should try it again." - You've had him mesmerized when you ogled at him like that - your expression and gaze were innocent, but your actions hinted at everything you've had on your mind. Your gentle hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans solidified what you've alluded to and erased every doubt he had had in his mind.

"What if it won't work?" - Joel hummed, already pulling you back into his arms - his head was cocked to his shoulder, a wicked grin gracing his face. The man knew what question he was asking, his confidence boosting yours. "Think I have a thing or two on my mind, Texas." "Oh?" - He whispered, stealing a peck from you. - "Wanna share?" "'s better to show it to you." "Go on, little lady." "... Somewhere private." - You specified, losing focus for a bit. Something had caught your attention, making you smile as you started moving in the rhythm. - "I like this song. Give your method one more try, and then we can test mine?" "Your wish is my command."

Over the last few years, Joel forgot how fun it is to dance with someone - how exciting it feels when you twirl your girl around, to see her crack a smile as she comes back to his arms, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. He hadn't danced with anyone since Angela passed - thirteen fucking years. You, however, were a great choice of partner to break the streak of sitting at the bar, watching other couples snuggle and giggle, unaware of anything beyond their small little bubble. Neither of you were good dancers, per se, but that made it much more enjoyable. Joel was in his small bubble now, devoting his focus to you. Only you. Feeling you sway in the rhythm, clumsily stepping on the tips of his boots while holding to his shirt for your dear life, was the most endearing thing that happened to him recently. Even if you wouldn't meet again, he'd be grateful for this one night you've given him.

By the time the last chords of the song played (honkey-tonk banjo strumming), you'd been just like every other couple on the dancefloor - hastily stealing kisses, pressing your bodies impossibly close, tugging each other's hair, moaning and whining under your breath. You wouldn't expect this gruff cowboy man Joel to be vocal at all, but his groans actually made everything ten times better. "... Tell me it didn't work." - He muttered, roughly kneading your buttcheeks with his fingers, pressing your pelvis on his - you could feel the outline of his dick perfectly, your mouth watering. "Not in the slightest. I'm still a horrible dancer." "Thank fuckin' God." - His palm grasped yours as he turned on his heels, leading you deeper into the establishment. Joel was broad enough to make the way for both of you. He was making sure you were still following as if he couldn't feel your nails digging into his palm - he made sure a million times. His eyes periodically trailed between you and the space in front of him.

Once you entered the bathroom stall, everything got blurry - Joel's palms trailing your curves, his lips drowning in the skin of your neck, your palms holding onto his shoulders as he lowered on his knees. You wished you could take a picture of the view - Joel on his knees, one of his palms carefully lifting the hem of your t-shirt while he looked you in the eyes, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your abdomen while his other hand smoothed a trail on your upper thigh. Just as you expected, his palms were rough, full of calluses, and left a tingling sensation on your skin. Pressing his face to your abdomen and slowly getting back up, he pressed a kiss between your breasts before kissing the sweet spot on your neck again. Your breathing was irregular by the time his fingers curled around your chin.

"Are you sure you want this, little lady?" - He was purring into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and playfully nibbling on it - the reason you were still standing was clearly that he pinned you between the door and his body... Palming your hot, wet sex teasingly, applying just the right amount of pleasure at the place you needed him the most. - "I don't plan on makin' you do somethin' you'd regret later. We clear?" "Joel... Please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up." - That's all you could muster - your body begged to feel his lips, for your hands to explore everything that's been hiding under that neatly tucked shirt and perfectly fitted jeans - you could see the outline of his dick, hard as a rock, but you wanted more. You wished to look at it, have it in your mouth, swallow it whole, or gag on it, whatever he'd like. The arousal building at your center made you forget words. When you tried to kiss him, he tsk-tsked you away, applying more pressure on your clit.

"Just say the words and it's all yours, pretty girl." "Remember how I said you're a rascal?" - You whispered, grinding against his palm gently. - "You're just a... Mhm... Shit... Fucking dick." "Such an eager little thing, aren't ya?" - Joel grinned, kissing the apple of your cheek, leaving his hand in place. You seemed to be horny enough not to need his help with your endeavors - all you needed was his fucking palm.

But Joel wanted more - he needed to hear you also want it. He needed permission before destroying you, fucking your silly little head empty. He could, however, also sense the reason for your hesitancy. What was he? Just a random guy at a club pulling a chick just to fuck her at the stalls and never see her again. Understandable. Because of that, he'd been willing to give you a bit of assurance. - "C'mon, be a good girl. Use your words." "Will you spank me if I misbehave?" "If a good ol' spankin''s whatcha after... We can talk 'bout it on a date." "A date?" - Your eyes lit up, your motions stopping for a bit - to keep you occupied, Joel started applying pressure with his fingers, having you staring at him with your mouth agape. You looked... So damn hot. - "Are you serious, Texas? You want to take me out?" "Mhm, of course, little lady. You'll gimme your phone number, and I'll give you mine. You'll set the date, and I pick out the restaurant. My treat, 'f course. There, you can tell me all you want 'bout spanking that cute ass 'f yours. Sounds good?"

He was... Serious. There was a cocky smile on his lips as he watched you, but he was asking you out. No buts or ifs. No games. It took you a moment to process his proposition - his fingers lazily circling around your clit were making it fucking hard to think. "I'd... I'd love that, cowboy." "Good girl." - Joel cooed, carefully pulling strands of hair out of your eyes with his other palm, leaning his arm to the door behind you. - "What do you want me to do now?" "Everything." - You whispered, stealing a peck from his lips. - "I wanna take everything you're willing to offer. I want this, I want you, wanna feel your lips on me, your dick inside me, fuckin' Christ, I want everything."

That was all Joel needed to hear, the words to set him in motion. His hands gently cupped your head as he kissed you with passion, his mouth devouring each inch he'd kiss, his teeth gently sinking into your skin - just enough to let you feel it, but not enough to hurt you. Not caring about the tent in his jeans, he'd started lowering on his knees again, pulling your t-shirt off your body just so he could hungrily stare at your tits rising and falling with each labored breath. He couldn't but palm them, squeezing them gently. Not wasting more time, he got back to work - worshipping each inch of your skin with his palms, leaving a trail of wet kisses from your chest to your abdomen, stopping above your shorts. He didn't look at what his fingers were doing - Joel simply continued undoing the zipper and button, staring you in the eyes. His right thumb slipped on your clothed clit, having your body react immediately - shuddering, moaning upon the sensation. This wouldn't fly - you could be kicked out if you wouldn't be careful. He wished to listen to those sweet sounds, but...

"Can you somethin' for me?" "Mhm?" - You let out in response, your eyes already darkened with lust. Just a few more beats and Joel would send you heaven, he swore to himself - he started taking his flannel shirt off frantically, handing it over to you. "Bite on it, honey. We don't wanna everyone hearin' how good I make you feel, do we?" "No." - Doing as he asked you, you buried your entire face in his shirt - it smelled just like him, the discovery making you whimper. Lost in the moment, you barely noticed your panties and shorts being removed - before you grasped it, Joel was already filling the newly discovered territory with his face, spreading your thighs far apart.

Under different circumstances, Joel would be delighted to play with you - tease you, let you tiptoe on the edge of paradise before allowing you to drown in all the pleasure, pushing you towards the cliff's edge - you two, sadly, didn't have enough time. You weren't splayed over his bed, your arousal wasn't staining the sheets, and he couldn't let you scream at the top of your lungs before you'd squeeze his head with your thighs. Secondly, he was too fucking horny to hold back. Working you up with his mouth, he untangled your ankle out of your panties, throwing your leg over his shoulder - allowing himself to push as deep as possible in such conditions. His tongue collected each drop of arousal, warm pain setting in his jaw as he did his best to lick your slit clean, just like a plate of his favorite dish.

After he made sure you won't fall down, Joel put his lips to good use (sucking on your clit), and his palm started discovering the valley further below, spreading your folds teasingly. You noticed his finger slowly entering you, digit after digit - his fingers were wider and rougher than yours, filling you up better than yours ever could. Trying to muffle a loud moan, your face disappeared in the fabric of his shirt, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. Joel loved having your fingers tangled in his hair - lost to the moment, you couldn't care less about how violently you're tugging on it, each tug getting a guttural growl out of him. The sounds echoed through you, reaching into all parts of your body, pushing you over the edge.

You couldn't name what precisely caused your orgasm to approach so fucking fast - you were under the impression that usually, it took way longer for you to come. Could be anything - his smell all up your nose, his tongue flickering on your sensitive cluster of nerves at an impressive speed, his palm holding onto your thighs, or two (maybe three) fingers curling inside you. Probably everything combined. The next thing you realized was that you mumbled his name like a prayer, riding through your high on his face, trying to catch your breath as you leaned your head into the door, eyes closed, Joel religiously watching and memorizing how you liked like when you came undone. You were beautiful.

"You good?" - Joel asked after your thighs relaxed and let go of his head. His voice was raspy. It took him a bit to pick himself up (his knees went numb), but soon, he was there to steal a kiss from you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your flushed, relaxed expression was adorable - he hadn't had a woman looking at him this way in a long time. Your eyes were open lazily (offering him a tender look), your smile hinting at all the bliss circulating in your blood. "Never better, sugar." "Don't think anyone called me that before." "You like it?" - You asked, playing with the hem of his gray t-shirt, caressing his abdomen, his flannel shirt still hanging off your palm. "Gets me all railed up." - With a grin, Joel approached you, picking your leg up to circle it around his waist. The jeans felt cold against your burning and sensitive core, the rough material putting a strange edge into Joel's pelvis grinding against yours at a lazy, teasing pace. - "You want this too, baby? Think you can take it?" "I want everything."

"Okay." - He hummed, trailing his fingers along your shoulders, brushing lips over your jaw and lips. Before you knew it, his palm crept back between your thighs, his fingers sliding inside you, working you up to relax you and get the arousal going. - "How do you want it? Should I sit down? If you wanna, I can get deeper if you bend forward. C'mon, be a good girl and use your words." "Just... I want... Fuck." - Not being able to put a single sentence together, you shushed his palm and godly fingers away. Bracing yourself, you leaned into the door comfortably, shaking your ass a bit to tease him. Joel didn't hesitate to play along, slapping it to see the tender, soft skin jiggling. It didn't escape him how you almost purred, whimpering from the friction. He was half-sure you joked about the spanking bit, but seeing you get off on it put a childish grin on his face.

Before he undid his belt (your head was turned to him the entire time, hungrily watching each move), he'd pulled his wallet from one of the pockets, pulling a condom out. Biting on the aluminum packaging gently, Joel threw his wallet away carelessly, feverishly undoing his jeans before pushing the pants and underwear down to his knees. His dick sprang free, having you hypnotized while Joel put the condom on - you'd swear you hadn't seen a nicer-looking dick in your lifetime, not even in porn movies you watched. It was decently long, pre-cum leaking from the tip, with few veins giving it a nice texture. What put a slight frown on your face was the width of it. It was girthy, for the lack of a better term, massive, to say the least. The challenge excited you, giving you more reasons to take him balls deep. Moan escaped your mouth upon that thought.

"Oh, I know, baby girl." - Joel whispered, stepping closer to you, kneading your cheeks like dough - digging his fingers in one moment, lovingly squeezing them in the other. - "I'll take care of everythin', I promise. Just relax for me." "Okay, sugar." - Complying, you tried your best to relax when he ran his palms down your back, massaging soothing circles into your skin. Hearing the nickname, Joel snickered under his breath. "You gonna me drive up the fuckin' wall if you keep that nickname up."

You started to turn your head in Joel's direction to reply, but before you could do so, the tip of his dick slipped inside you - the burning sensation had you banging your first against the door, opening your mouth, eyes closed firmly, chest heaving as you adjusted to him. It wasn't unpleasant - it was just unusual - you hadn't had sex ever since that 'British stud of yours' as Anne dubbed Felix. And any toys couldn't do Joel's dick any justice. "All good, little lady?" "Mhm, never better." - Nodding, you took a long breath before lowering yourself down on his shaft, feeling it stretching you out inch by inch. There weren't many things that would make Joel Miller speechless, but watching you sliding down while his hands held your hips, hearing you muffle your whines and moans was pure fucking magic. The closer your ass got to his base, the harder it was to breathe for him.

"Look at you, sweetheart." - Joel cooed, closing the remaining gap between your bodies - the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, making you gulp. The man didn't move for a solid minute, letting you relax and adjust, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. - "This would make a man lose his damn mind, Jesus fuckin' Christ. You're doin' so fuckin' well for me." "That dick would make any woman lose their mind too, Texas." - Saying that, you giggled, unintentionally tightening around him - Joel's hips buckled in response, making you whine happily. - "You can move, yannow that? I ain't made of glass." "Promise to tell me it'd get uncomfortable for you, yeah?" - The man asked, kissing your shoulder. Nodding, you lazily smiled at him. "Promise."

In a few thrusts, you could perfectly understand why Joel promised he'd stop if things got uncomfortable for you - he struggled to find his tempo, sloppily thrusting in and out of you in unforgiving, needy movements. But as soon as he found his footing? His movements became determined and precise, each trust stretching your tight walls gently, almost lovingly. He was gripping your hips, the nailbeds digging into your smooth, gentle skin - so tightly that you'd swear you'd have small remnants of him with you in the morning. Anytime he felt like it, he'd make you meet his dick halfway, breathlessly snickering at your ecstatic expression. You both mumbled nonsense, motivating each other to keep going, movements growing desperate as you started chasing your highs. Without Joel needing to mutter a word, your palm sneaked to your clit, your fingers rubbing frantic get gentle circles around the bundle of nerves.

"'M gonna... 'M gonna..." - Joel muttered religiously, palming one of your breasts to gently play with your nipple. "Just a bit longer, and I'm... Fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel." - It came across as a pathetic whine - the tip of his dick brushing against the most sensitive spot inside you. The burst of warmth and pleasure made you shudder, meowling to your forearm as you tried to keep your shit together. "Ya with me?" - Joel pressed on, his brain barely capable of making meaningful sentences. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes." - As he brushed the spot again, a mind-numbing orgasm washed over you. For a moment, you didn't know who the fuck you were, what your name was, where you were, or whom you were with. All you could feel was concentrated pleasure washing over your body, leaving you whining and moaning into the fabric of his shirt before letting it fall to the ground. Joel's last trusts were sloppy, almost too brutal, but soon, he was grunting as his load leaked into the condom.

"Jesus." - He muttered, gently slipping out - the emptiness hit you like a truck, almost leaving you begging for more. You'd beg if you could form any word on your tongue. - "How we doin', little lady? All parts where they should be?" - He whispered, gently helping you to stand up as he pulled your underwear and shorts back where they belonged. If you'd let him, he'd memorize how you looked - sweaty, breathing irregularly with a contained expression. Every inch of your skin was a masterpiece Joel'd carve into wood just to have it always with him. Fucking on a bathroom stall, however, wasn't the right place or time to ask for some lovey-dovey nonsense.

"You some kind of mechanic or what? I'm good, don't worry 'bout me. Gave me exactly what I wanted." "There she is, the sassy little sweetheart I couldn't get 'nough of. And... Somethin' like that. I'm a carpenter." - Joel explained, ensuring you looked somewhat presentable. It wouldn't be gentlemanly to let you walk around looking like a cute, freshly fucked mess - no matter how much this idea aroused him, letting all the men who eyed you over the night know that he was the one you chose to have the time of your day with. Instead of answering, you started laughing, catching him off-guard. - "What's funny 'bout me bein' a carpenter, hm?" "Nothin', nothin'." - You whispered, shushing his palms away to control your make-up. Well, it was decently smudged but still presentable. With how Anne looked before you and Joel took an abrupt detour to the stalls, you'd be soon on your way home anyway. - "I'll be working for a carpenter, starting fairly soon. It's just a funny coincidence, 's all."

"I see. He's a lucky man, then." - Joel hummed, caressing the apple of your cheek with his fingers before letting you steal a peck from you. - "If you'd be workin' for me, I wouldn't keep my fuckin' hands off you, sweet girl. You tell him you have another carpenter in town who wouldn't waste a second hirin' you, yeah?" "You don't mean that. That's the sex talkin'." "On my honor. If he won't treat you respectfully, yannow who to call. I can always use some help." - Teasingly slapping your ass, Joel picked his shirt and wallet off the ground, adjusting his belt and jeans. - "There's the business card, you call this number, yeah? The second one. The first one's for my office. And as a promise, you take this with ya." - Carefully, he tugged you into the shirt, smoothing your upper arms. - "'s my lucky shirt. I never go out in anythin' else. You better keep an eye out." "This gets the ladies going?" - Was what you replied, pushing your arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the lower half of the shirt. Ensuring you won't lose the card, you pushed it inside your phone case, showing it to Joel. "It got you goin', didn't it?" "Was that bloody smirk 'f yours, asshole." "Never been turned on by anyone callin' me an asshole. Whatcha doin' to me, girl? You ready to go?" - The lock was undone, and as a gesture of gratitude (and another promise), Joel offered you his palm to hold onto. To your surprise, he let you entwine your fingers with him without protesting. "Yeah. Let's go."

Thankfully, when you walked back onto the humid, heavy-aired club, Tommy and Anne were still dancing - both appeared heavily intoxicated, holding each other tightly, dancing to a sweet serenade. That, thankfully, meant no questioning for either you or Joel. As you also predicted, Anne wanted to go home when she spotted you hanging out by the bar.

Joel and Tommy helped you find a taxi, settling Anne down in the backseat - it was raining heavily, all of you jogging to the car with laughter. The night started to get cold. It was time to go home, lulled by the prospect of a date - the man in question was just pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your temple, whispering sweet nothings and goodbyes to your ear. Tommy, even though he was usually as perceptive as a stomp, left you alone and moved to smoke under a nearby umbrella, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you being all cheesy and lovey-dovey - he knew better than to mutter a word. Joel'd definitely fire back at him.

"Here's the money for the ride, tip included. Take 'em wherever they want to, the rest's yours." - Joel leaned into the cab, handing the driver a hefty bill while patting the roof - what a typical gesture. Staring at him in shock, you shook your head in disapproval - Anne pointed at him with a drunkard giggle. "I'm startin' to like your grumpy Texan ass more 'n more." "What a compliment." - Joel answered with pure irony. - "Take care, ladies. Text me when you get home, 'kay, sweetheart?" "Will do, sir. But betcha ass we'll be discussing this later." - Vaguely pointing to the driver, you spared Joel one last smile before the cab took off, driving you home. - "Take care!" - You cried out, watching his figure disappear in the distance.

Getting Anne to your room without waking up the whole block was a superhuman task - she'd trip over nothing, kept on shushing you (even though you hadn't said a word), giggling under her breath as she tried to keep her balance. You expected Mom to bust in at any minute, but only Sam inspected the ruckus. "Jesus fuckin' Christ." - The girl muttered, rubbing her eyes sleepily. The sight was hilarious, you needed to admit - Anne was sitting on the edge of your bed, rocking from side to side while attempting to take off her shoes. Her tongue, as usual, was sticking out of the corner of her mouth with pure concentration. - "I take it that the night was good?" "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go to sleep now, yeah?" - Smoothing her shoulder, you watched as Sammy nodded sleepily and started retreating toward her room.

Before going to sleep, you made sure Anne's clothes were hung enough to dry out before she departed after tomorrow's dinner, and that her hair was neatly covered with a towel. As promised, before hitting the sack, you sent Joel a short text to let him know you're both safe at home, wishing him a good night. The night was something - sex with Joel helped you sober up, and thanks to Anne's overwhelming, unmissable snoring, you took one hell of a time to fall asleep. While Anne was knocked out in an instant, you had to roll around for quite some time before you finally fell asleep - dreaming of Joel, his big hands, honest smiles, and passionate kisses.

"Are you fuckin' with me? That happened? And it was that good?" - Anne squealed, pushing half a waffle inside her mouth. Her appetite (despite the hangover she must've had) always surprised you. Nobody should be this hungry after digesting such an ungodly amount of alcohol... Nobody. Sam, responsible for bringing you a very late breakfast to bed, had her eyes glued to your lips, listening to how you described what had happened in the bathroom stalls. - "... Didn't even notice you two were gone." "No wonder. You two were fucking out of it. They were wobbling around to Long Long Time by the time we got back, both sobbing their asses off." "Uh-uh, that didn't fuckin' happen. Don't believe a word comin' out of this wench's mouth, Sammy." "In all fairness, it's a solid song." - Sam reiterated, having Anne snapping, humming approvingly. "Amen, sister. Girl knows her stuff."

"Back to the guy. So you texted him goodnight? As he asked?" - Sam pried further, laying down as she stared at you. "Mhmh." "Had he replied?" "Yes." "WHAT DID HE-?" - Anne squealed even louder, earning an elbow to her side. Rubbing the spot, she looked at you. - "Bitch, you hadn't told me he actually reached back out. What did the super hot, hunky, gruff cowboy say? Spill it." "Well, he wished me a good morning for starters, unlike someone..." - Alluding to how Anne's first sentence consisted of 'Girl, I don't know if it's gonna come outta my mouth or ass first, so you better move' and keeping the duo tensed up, a smile spread on your lips. - "He started asking when I was free but told me he couldn't go out today because of this dinner with his best buddy. So... I have a date tomorrow." "You're shitting me!" - Anne muttered, giggling her ass off. "Dude, keep it the fuck down. I don't wanna explain this to my mom." "Yeah, yeah, whatever. What's your take on the situation, young padawan?" - Without sparing you a look, Anne just waved you off and pointed her fork in Sam's direction.

"He sounds like a genuinely great guy. A bit of an age difference? No prob, sis. On the other hand, if you'd bring home an eighty-year-old gramps with diapers and prescribed meds..." "Samantha!" - Gasping for air, you threw a strawberry her way - grinning from ear to ear, Sam caught in on her first try. - "'s that what you think of me? Thank you kindly. That's so fucked up." "You asked me a question, and I gave you an answer. Grow up. But no cap - you're glowing just talking about the guy. You're all flustered, giggly, playing with your hair and... It's nice to see you like that." "She ain't wrong... She ain't wrong at all."

Dinner preparations consisted of pure chaos - Fleetwood Mac's biggest hits playing out of your dad's stereo as you helped around the kitchen, Anne occasionally dipping to comment on the baseball game your dad watched in the living room. The entire house was pristine, not a dust particle in sight as if the Queen of England was about to drop for a visit. Your mom pulled out her best decorations and fanciest set of plates, asking you to decorate them with napkins. Sam was with you the entire time, carefully watching your moves as if you weren't real - even giving in to dance with you to Dreams, both laughing as you clumsily wobbled around the dining room.

When it was around 4pm, you all hid in Sam's room to make yourselves look presentable - Sammy opted for a cutesy wollen vest, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. With her hair styled in a high ponytail, she looked genuinely cutesy. Anne borrowed one of the fancy dresses you used to wear for work, pairing it with her pair of good ol' trusty pair of Vans - as per usual, Anne would've looked hot as fuck even if she'd worn a potato bag. You opted for a more casual, relaxed fit. You dug out a flowy black dress with polka dots all over it, choosing a relaxed hairstyle and light layer of make-up to go with it. You assumed you didn't have to sit around dressed like you were waiting for a job interview since the guy was your dad's best friend.

"They're here!" - Mom cried out over the music blasting in the living room - your dad changed it to good ol' Bruce Spingsteen's Born in the U.S.A. "Aight, how do I look?" - You asked, twirling around to let both the girls see - you wanted to leave a good first impression on your soon-to-be employer and a trusted family friend, as well as on his brother. "You're looking good. I've told you a million times already - Joel doesn't make a fuss about such things. I've worked for him for a year and a half, so I'd be the one to know." - Sam muttered, rolling her eyes. She'd spent the last hour assuring you looked amazing and impressionable, that was much true. - "Just come already, Jesus. You'll relax once you see him." - With that, she started descending the stairs, loudly greeting the guests.

"Like a snack." - Anne suggested, having you shaking your head. "Not the time..." "What if he's like... Smoking hot?" "He's also my dad's best friend. No way in hell..." "Never say never." "That's why I usually don't ask for your fucking input, Anne." "Chill, girl, you got this. Take a breath, shake the nerves off... You look fucking amazing, and you're way smarter than... Oh... Oh, fuck." - She was standing on top of the stairs, her palm clutching the railing until her knuckles turned white. All emotion suddenly drained from her expression, her face growing pale, and her eyes widened at the sight. Slowly, you peeked around the corner, your eyes meeting the strangers immediately.

What if he was smoking hot, huh? Well, you knew for a fact he was. Those lips were kissing you yesterday. Those palms chalked up the cue for you, teasing you how to play billiard without getting a cramp in your palm. These eyes watched you as if you were the only woman in the club, following each step you took, his palm never shying away from grasping the small of your back. You saw him undress for you. You felt him pounding into you when he chased his release. You listened to his voice pouring sweet nothings and perverted, arousing nonsense into your ears as he fucked you. You had his number saved in his phone. You had a date set with him. It was Joel. Joel, the mysterious hunky gruff cowboy. Joel, who was staring back at you with the same horror in his eyes. Joel, who was your dad's best fucking friend.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck indeed.

Thank you for reading! 🩷 Reblogs and comments are appreciated; in case you have any questions or scenarios you'd like to see, hmu in dms or under the post. 🩷 Have a nice day!

[yakumtsaki]

Continuing to part 2, part 1 here!

Laksmhi gives us Gallagher Newson and they have 3 bolts! I've been playing the Tinkers because Melody is like 150yo and it'd be too sad to have them outlive their only kid. They both wanted a baby but were a few days from elderhood so I had them foster the Newsons in their giant house! It's such a wholesome household to play, like literally the exact opposite of this one.

Gallagher is super cute and I'd normally consider him for spouse but thanks to Barth's ridic 20 woohoo LTW all we want here is to get our first kiss and bounce. Will we do it???

-NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT🐺

YOU. GTFO RIGHT NOW

-NOT A CHANCE, I'M HERE TO PICK UP MY OLD HOBBY OF COCKBLOCKING🐺

-And we're here to help! -The wolf that is, not our son!

FFS. Despite all this malicious sabotage-

-which at some point included Liz playing catch with the wolf, which Jojo only got him to do after like 30 years-

-this went really well! Not Felina-Meadow tier well, but well for Barth subterranean standards..

..Gallagher even got a crush on him from one little flirt! Cute!

We take our date Downtown to seal the deal, everything is going great-

-Bartholomew is pulling these impressive moves.. and then.. FOR NO DISCERNIBLE REASON..

I CURSE YOU, SHAJAR'S PERSONALITY PANEL. I CURSE YOU TO DAMNATION

-How dare you not accept my flirting! -YOU JUST PUT ME IN A HEADLOCK, FREAK -What's your point!

-Look at these shameless idiots dancing! Gross! I'd have to be like.. 200% drunker than I am right now to even consider it! -You're drunk?? -You're not?? Man if I was a broke orphan I'd be drunk all the time. Which I am. Drunk all the time, I mean, not a broke orphan. -I'm outta here. -WHAT! WHY!

Welp, we still got our first kiss thanks to the automated goodbye kiss thing that I finally have to get the mod that disables it because it pisses me off. But whatever, a win all around!

-Hi, Grandpa >:( -What's wrong, Bartholomew? -I WISH I WAS DEAD

-This is exactly what I was worried about when your mother married into that trash family, look at you.. -What! There's nothing wrong with me! -Nothing? Really?? The correct form is 'I wish I WERE dead'! -WHO CARES -Clearly not your dimwitted, Union-gene inflicted self! -OH THAT'S IT, GET READY TO RUMBLE

-I can't believe Grandpa Ti-Ning beat me up! This is the worst day of my life!

At least you have Jimbo!

-Yes, yes I do.. It'd definitely make me feel better seeing the shock and betrayal in his eyes as I choke him to death.. -Ha, like you can get your tiny hands around my thick-ass neck, pussyboi, I'll bite your entire head off! Now shut up and clean off this manure I've been rolling in, and look at me in the eyes while you do it!! -..I need a drink.

Yes you do, I mean if this is how your life is gonna go you might as well be drunk.

Sandy has found a new dog bestie in Veronica to the point she completely missed work to stay and play with her-

-while iVan is team Wendi!

-𝙸 𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝙸𝚃, 𝚆𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙸; 𝙸 𝚃𝙾𝙾 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙰 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙱𝙸𝙳𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙻𝙾��𝙴 𝙰𝙵𝙵𝙰𝙸𝚁;

-𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺 𝚈𝙾𝚄, 𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚈, 𝙹𝙸𝙼𝙱𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚆𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚈; -JI̸M̵BO B̴E̶L̴O̶N̴G̸S W̴I̷T̵H V̵E̸R̷O̵N̵IC̷A̶, Y̴O̵U̶ AN̷D̷ YO̵U̵R̵ C̷A̵T AR̸E B̵O̴T̶H PE̴RV̶E̷RT̵S🧟‍♀️

-Forget it, Jim, it's Uniontown.

As I'm intently watching the billionth iVan-Sandy fight the fighting window pops up again-

-and sure enough, THIS BETTE/JOAN SHIT HAS ESCALATED. I 1000% blame Barflina.

Bruh. Not only did Sophie lose-

-but her disloyal hoe wife immediately went to chat with Liz after! SHAJAR FFS

-What! I'm allowed to socialize with whoever I want and I happen to like Liz! It's not because I have some deep-seated resentments toward Sophie or anything!

It's ok, Soph, you'll always have your pets💛

-And my pets will have Eliza's heart for dinner💛

Can't blame you💛

It's officially time to fuck off for college as there's some glitched bill on the lot and we got repo'ed despite not owing anything! Gross!

-HA! I TAKE YOUR POOL LIGHT. I TAKE IT

For a moment I thought you were taking Glitched Butler #7!

You know what, take Shajar while you're here. BITCH FFS

-What!

You've talked more to Liz since she beat up Sophie than you have the entire time you've known her!

-That's a complete coincidence!

Ya well when you get fed to the dogs it'll be a complete coincidence too!

Alright we're outta here, college time for Barflina. Can't say I'm looking forward to it!

-Anything to get me into Meadow's arms and away from Grandma Victoria's batshit ghost!

-THAT URN-SMASHING BRAT IS NOT WINNING THE HEIRSHIP AS LONG AS I LIVE👻

Vic, I don't know how to tell you this, but you are not currently living. Well, I guess you metaphorically ~live through~ Barflina.

-GROSS. I'D RATHER BE DEAD👻

See you at La Fiesta!

[petitmonde]

Meet ugly

A set of dialogue prompts and scenarios for meet ugly, because who doesn't need chaos in their lives? Send in a prompt and/or scenario + a ship. Feel free to share and use.

I'd like to thank @missjanjie and @sweetlikesunflowersandhoney for their help.

Dialogue prompts

1. "Is that my car?"

2. "Oh, so that was you?"

3. "Please never contact me again"

4. "You shouldn't be in here"

5. "Who the hell are you?"

6. "So listen, I met the worst bitch ever on my way to work"

7. "Can you shut up? At least for ten minutes"

8. "You could say sorry"

9. "Just don't puke on my carpet"

10. "I don't even know you"

11. "I didn't ask for your life story"

12. "I didn't sign up for this"

13. "Okay, rule number one, don't talk to me"

14. "That fucking hurt"

15. "Did your parents hate you when they named you that?"

16. "That is the ugliest dress I've ever seen"

17. "I think I just spilled coffee all over our new boss"

18. "I'm pretty sure my date is hitting on your date"

19. "Wait, this isn't my apartment?"

20. "If you kick my seat one more time, I'm cutting off your legs."

21. "Get out"

22. "Well here's the thing, I don't care"

23. "I'm going to call the cops"

24. "It's loaded"

25. "Shit, I thought you weren't home"

26. "It's been six months and you still don't know their name?"

27. "I think you got the wrong number"

28. "Put your clothes back on"

29. "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't answer that, I already know"

30. "When I see that bitch again"

31. "I don't have a death wish"

32. "I am not getting in that car with you"

33. "Why does this kind of thing always happen to me?"

34. "Okay, for the last fucking time"

35. "Didn't you hear me?"

36. "Get a grip, get a life and get over it"

37. "I am not going to entertain drama, chaos, confusion and madness"

38. "I'm not bothered, not at all"

39. "I knew she was a clown from the jump"

40. "I'm not finished talking to you"

41. "I pity you for the face that you have"

42. "Here, let me buy you a new one"

43. "I don't want it anymore"

44. "You're getting blood all over me"

45. "You will be hearing from my lawyer"

46. "Well, you can go fuck yourself"

47. "Did you ever work in porn?"

48. "Who invited you?"

49. "This sounds like a scam"

50. "$800? I don't have that kind of money"

Scenarios

A. A and B have an appointment at the same clinic after their partner cheated on them, without knowing the other person is their side piece.

B. A server spills a milkshake on a customer's fancy new shirt, and is entirely unapologetic about it.

C. A and B match on Tinder and they quickly realise the other person is insane and unmatch. They then meet again on a blind date.

D. They've waged a passive aggressive war against eachother for years for being 'that annoying neighbour' by leaving notes in the laundry room without actually having met.

E. They're both hospitalised in the same room, and absolutely everything their new roommate does is annoying. And their family and friends are even worse.

F. It's the worst day ever already, and in comes an idiot who thinks it's cute to be overly friendly.

G. A is gleefully eating something B had been looking forward to all week – and it was the last one!

H. A stole B's cat accidentally, but now it's been over a year, so whose cat is it really.

I. A suddenly having to become a babysitter for a very drunk B, a complete stranger.

J. A and B have been tricked into babysitting the same pair of chaotic twins.

K. A finds B wildly attractive, and has had a crush on them for a good while, however during their first conversation, A blanks and insults B.

L. Just your ordinary everyday traffic accident between a car and a bike.

M. A drunkenly texts B, thinking they're A's ex, and now B won't stop teasing them about it.

N. On a skiing trip, A walks into what they think is their own lodge, only to find that the bed they're sleeping in belongs to B, who very much doesn't appreciate waking up to being spooned by a stranger.

O. A is the sole reason they're desperately trying to survive an avalanche.

P. A's dog messes up B's date, but is refusing to pay for a new pair of pants.

Q. A's sibling fucks over B, and when B comes over to slap some sense into them, they end up slapping A.

R. A gets an angry phone call from B, cussing out someone with a name that's similar to theirs. At first they wanted to hang up, but now A just really wants to hear how that person fucked up.

S. A is a stand-in for B's partner in a reality TV show, and is doing their damnedest at messing them up since B was dismissive of them when they met. Revenge isn't always cold, bitch.

T. They're sharing an Uber from a club, and holy shit, A is bleeding all over the place, so B has no option but to help to avoid paying a cleaning fee.

U. A works at an amusement park as a mascot in a suit. B lives to torment the mascots, and now that there aren't kids around, A is ready to let them have it.

V. A is running late, and only notices their shirt is inside out in the elevator. They try to put it on right but they get stuck with their shirt half off. B is the shocked neighbour who finds A like that.

W. A has brought in flowers to work to welcome the new hire, who happens to be extremely allergic to said flowers.

X. Someone keeps stealing A's food from the fridge, and having had enough, A poisons their food with an inordinate amount of chili peppers. Now to wait for the screams of B come lunchtime.

Y. If A doesn't shut up about their ex anytime soon, B is going to blow a gasket and tell them to get a life. They're in public for fucks sake, have your mental breakdown somewhere else.

Z. A has talked mad shit about B at length, not realising they'd be their next opponent in their next match. Now it's personal.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

All right, I did a post yesterday about the Cowgate incident of 2003, which started because I read the disappointing news that the site of the incident will be closed to the public when I'm in Edinburgh this summer, and I literally read it during a brief period of being awake in the middle of a fever dream. And then of course I made a post about it, because if you wake up in the middle of a fever dream, you always have to post about the real-life incident that most resembles the content of an actual fever dream.

This made me realize it's been a little while since I've actually watched that video, I went through a year or so of re-watching it at least once a week (mainly because it became a go-to re-watch when drunk, particularly near the end of the night when I no longer wanted to focus on anything coherent or longer than a few minutes, personally I'd never want to be at a comedy show while drunk but I do see why they'd do this for a drunk crowd, it appeals to that side of the brain), but I hadn't seen it in six months or so. I thought, I've probably been building this up in my head a bit in the six months of not actually watching it. The idea of Cowgate as a weird drunken fever dream (though one enjoyable thing about it is that besides Adam Hills and the entire audience I'm pretty sure the people involved were sober, as that was sort of the Chocolate Milk Gang's thing, getting their name specifically because they were the only people who didn't get drunk at late-night Edinburgh shows, instead they went for milkshakes across the road) had become a running joke in my mind and sometimes my Tumblr references, but at this point it's more of a symbol than anything else. After writing that post that ran with the joke of it being an iconic violent ritual, I thought it would be fun to spend some of my sick day at home re-watching the actual video, expecting to find that it just looks like relatively expected raucous comedy show shenanigans, not quite as mind-breakingly weird as I remember.

...Guys, it's exactly as I remembered. It's so weird. I've made multiple deep dive Cowgate posts before, but not for at least six months (I think the last time I did it one was for the 20th anniversary, August 26 last year, so almost exactly six months, actually), and I think six months should be long enough to make me allowed to repeat myself on the subject. Because there's almost nothing I haven't said before, but watching it again made me want to say it all again. And I do mean almost - I think I did discover one new detail while watching it between fever dreams yesterday. It's pretty good.

Okay, first of all, here's the video in all its glory:

I cannot emphasize enough how much the first time I came across this it was 2 AM and I had no context for understanding where they were or what was going on. Since then, I have figured out: it's a show called Late 'n' Live. It takes place on many nights throughout the Edinburgh Festival, at a venue called the Gilded Balloon. The Gilded Balloon is owned by Karen Koren. It burned down in 2002 and was rebuilt nearby, this video is from 2003, in the rebuilt venue on Teviot Place. The Late 'n' Live event runs from around 11:30 PM to around 3:30 AM and consists of a bunch of comedians who come on, sometimes to do their own sets and sometimes to do shit like this, managed by a compere, and after that they bring out a band and it turns into a dance floor. At this time, it was known for being a bearpit with a drunk and rough crowd that sometimes got violent. For several years in the late '90s and early '00s, it was famous compered by Johnny Vegas. It was then compered, throughout the early- and mid-00s, by Daniel Kitson. I mean I think there was some crossover, obviously they didn't just have one compere for an entire month and people besides those two guys did it too, some people had to get some sleep at some point. Anyway, these are all things that I know as a direct result of the rabbit hole I went down after finding this video and needing to understand what the ever loving fuck was going on in it. I actually know a lot more than that about Late 'n' Live, but there isn't time for it all right now. I've watched a four-part BBC Scotland documentary series about the history of Late 'n' Live. I watched a Tim Minchin documentary mainly because I like Tim Minchin but a little bit because it had a lot of the Gilded Balloon in it and that was relevant to my Late 'n' Live research. I have an entire folder on my hard drive called Late 'n' Live and it has too many files in it.

One of them's a gif of David O'Doherty throwing his entire body with abandon onto different things at Late 'n' Live in different years: onto Jason Byrne in 2003, onto the floor in 2005, and onto Daniel Kitson in 2007. All clips I found in entirely different sources and decided they needed to be together.

Anyway. I'm getting off topic. Already. Cowgate. The point is Cowgate. I named the incident Cowgate because that's the name of the neighbourhood where the original Gilded Balloon was, and, you know, it was a cow. A cow and what looked like it had to be some sort of scandal. I think it's very clever.

So here's the thing. After I first found that video, which seemed like a tiny relic of one of many moments of one of many nights on one of many years that this stuff went on, and I set about obsessively looking things up for weeks to try to figure out what they were doing, in the process I came across a second video that also happened to capture the same moment. Amazing stuff.

The former video was on the Gilded Balloon's YouTube channel, and seemed to have been filmed officially by the venue staff. This latter one was a montage of videos taken throughout the night by an audience member who apparently had whatever people used to film things at gigs in 2003. Wouldn't have been a camera phone back then.

This video shed a bit of light on some of the essential mysteries of Cowgate, but didn't actually answer many, and to be honest it asked more questions than it answered. Obviously, one of the main questions I had about Cowgate was "Where did the cow come from?" I'd wondered whether the Chocolate Milk Gang had somehow procured it, or whether they took something that was already there. Both options would open up a lot more questions, such as where did they get it, and if it wasn't there because they specifically put it there for the purposes of taking it apart, how did they get permission to take it apart?

The longer video suggests that it's the latter. It shows Daniel Kitson earlier in the night, messing around with the cow the way he might if its presence on stage were a surprise to him as well as to the audience.

The other essential question is "Why did they attack it?", and this earlier scene may suggest a possible reason. From the dialogue, it seems that Kitson jumped on top of it because the crowd told him to, and then the crowd keeps shouting other cow-based challenges at him, and he makes fun of them for suggesting challenges that are too easy (jump off it, touch it, etc.). The video then cuts, but it is possible that he challenged the crowd to ask him to do something difficult with it, and they said to tear it apart, and then it escalated. That scene seems to be from the beginning of the night, and we know the actual Cowgate ritual was the last thing that happened in the night, because right after they finish Kitson brings the band out and that occurs after the comedy ends. So it's possible that they could have come up with the challenge at the beginning, spent a few hours sourcing various weapons, and then done this at the end.

That theory of course brings up other questions, like how they decided on the weaponry. And, again, why they were allowed to do that. The answer to that question depends on where the cow came from, which I still don't know. I once spent a week looking up the International Cow Parade because I thought maybe it was part of that, but I don't think so anymore. It has the word Metro on the side of it, and someone in the YouTube comments called it the Metro cow. So it was probably an advertisement, not an art piece. But I wouldn't have thought your allowed to take apart a company's advertising installation. Maybe it was going to be destroyed after the festival anyway? Also, why was there a cow-based Metro advertisement on the floor at a comedy gig anyway?

I'd like to go through the video in further detail, as I've done many times before, but not for six months so I think I'm allowed a new one, and also I've come up with one (1) new fact (theory) so that's worth doing the whole thing again. I've just spent two days sick in bed, please allow me to indulge in this.

- Right at the beginning, the "three chances" thing still confuses me. That line really suggests that this is a challenge, not just a weird stunt, that they are being tested to see if they can do it. Possibly tested by an audience that was told to come up with a more difficult idea for something the comedians could try with a cow.

But what are the paramatres of the challenge? To take the cow apart, sure, but the "three chances" line implies more specific restrictions. Did they try this two other times earlier in the night and weren't able to do it? Perhaps tried it earlier with fewer weapons? Or did "three chances" mean three people are allowed to work on it? Doesn't seem likely, as Kitson jumped in fairly quickly and made it four.

- Adam Hills sounds like he's referencing something with "literally bottle it". I know "bottle it" is a expression that means "fuck it up", but I don't see how that's literal in this case. Was there a bottle involved? What would bottling it mean in this instance? Failing the audience's challenge? I don't even know for sure that it was an audience challenge, that's just a guess based on the beginning. It could be something else entirely.

- The part where John Oliver, Demetri Martin, and David O'Doherty scurry across the stage like squirrels makes me laugh every time. Why are they all bent over? What are they hiding from?

- David O'Doherty appears to be the only person who came out carrying a weapon. In the first shot of the guys attacking the cow, DO'D is hitting it with a hammer that he presumably brought from backstage. The other two are pulling on it with their bare hands. Then, in a detail I find hilarious, Demetri Marin reaches behind him and grabs what appears to be a chisel off the floor. I guess what probably happened is he did bring that with him from backstage, then put it down, and we just see him pick it back up. But the editing makes it look like he's tried pulling the horns, it didn't work, so he turned around and grabbed the nearest tool, like a character in a video game that just finds useful weapons lying around.

- It also makes me laugh that Adam Hills used his rap-based narration to make sexual jokes about the cow, while Kitson puts his hand over his mouth/in the air like a rapper, to show he's totally on board with this gangsta rap thing, but also, they have shit to and it's (presumably) nearly 4 AM, so the actual content of his lyrics is going to be to give useful practical advice on how to get this job done. Because they're not combining the tools, and you really need to use the chisel and hammer together or it'll never work.

I enjoy the way at this point, John Oliver takes just the briefest break from attacking a facsimile cow with his bare hands to look up Kitson, looking quite impressed with his approach to the situation. "Yes, thank you Daniel, finally some helpful ideas instead of just cowfucking jokes, now let's get that chisel over here."

- It can be hard to see in the darkness, but this whole thing is basically a Kitson and Oliver-oriented plan. Kitson shouts at DO'D to "combine the chisel and the hammer". John Oliver then points like he's directing a play, getting DO'D to bring his hammer to the other side.

DO'D does this, but puts the hammer down on the ground over there, instead of combining it with anything. That's when Kitson taps DO'D on the back like a pretend wrestler tagging in, possibly deciding that if he stays on the sidelines rapping all night, they'll never get this done and be allowed to leave. So he pushes DO'D out of the way, and takes his spot next to John Oliver. Then he reaches down and grabs a random chisel off the ground, again like a video game character. Then he reaches over the cow and picks up the hammer that DO'D has discarded (like a video game character), so he is now combining the chisel and the hammer. At the same time, John Oliver has physically taken the first chisel out of Demitri Martin's hand, and starts working on the same end as Kitson. Now they're getting somewhere.

- This is one of those videos that's funny every time if you keep running it back to watch the same eight seconds over but this time focus on a different person. DO'D tries to get in after Kitson straight-up stole his spot, leans in but can't find an opening, gives up and walks all the way around them both to try the other end of the cow because clearly the Kitson and Oliver dream team have this end sewn up.

- Then, there's a curveball: someone with the word CREW on the back of their shirt comes out of absolutely nowhere, and hands John Oliver a lead pipe, like a character fucking Clue(do, depending where you live). Where did this come from? Do most stages have large bits of piping lying around backstage? Was John Oliver supposed to bring it on stage with him but forgot it so they had to run it out to him? Or did those crew people decide that they're not making enough progress, someone had better find a large pipe and bring it on stage and hand it to John Oliver so we can all go home.

I've been writing this post so far while watching the official video - the one off the Gilded Balloon YouTube channel - but I think you get a much better view of this specific part from the way it was captured in the montage by an audience member. It's another part that I find incredibly funny. John Oliver is methodically working away with Demitri Martin's chisel and his own hands. Then someone hands him a large weapon, and he immediately raises it above his head like a sword and starts whacking the thing full tilt. Scares the shit out of Kitson on one side of him and DO'D on the other. They both jump, Demitri Martin just cautiously circles away.

In the words of a John Oliver bit that is long outdated but lives on in our hearts and my DVD collection... whaky stick. Whacky stick!!!

Kitson, after initially jumping, responds by choosing to imitate John's style, and starts raising the hammer over his own head to attack it with full force in the same way. While DO'D literally cowers in the corner:

And Demitri Martin continues to do what he's been doing since John took his tool away, which is to run his hands over the body of a cow like a mechanic sizing up a car. He has contributed almost nothing to this operation. I don't even think Demetri Martin knows how to take cows apart. Too busy turning letters into numbers and stuff.

- After getting over the initial excitement of waving a pipe around wildly, John Oliver employs the more thought-out strategy of using it like a lever, trying to prise it open at the seam. Kitson gets in beside him and starts attacking this same seam, striking the weak spot repeatedly with the hammer. In the background, DO'D and Demetri Martin appear to try jumping on the thing.

This is the strategy they're still employing the moment the cow finally comes apart:

I've observed this from multiple angles, and at first I thought Kitson deserved the most credit for breaking it, but now I think it was mainly John Oliver's work. Definitely a team effort though (or at least a dual effort, not sure how much the other two helped, though to be fair the bigger boys took their tools away). It comes apart at the exact spot where Kitson was hitting it with the hammer, you can see Kitson give it a hard kick, then one more strike, then put his arms up in celebration as this strike breaks it in half. But I'm pretty sure it was John's leverage from behind him that allowed him to split the thing.

- At this point they all contribute to pulling it the rest of the way apart; Kitson and Martin hold the top half while Oliver and DO'D take out the bottom. This is another part I find very funny - the way they're so matter-of-fact about handing it out to the audience. Look at John Oliver and David O'Doherty marching this across the stage like they're workers delivering a coach or something:

- Then the camera shows the cow being crowd surfed. The YouTube comments say: "The Metro cow got smashed in two and crowd surfed over everyone out the back door". In his lyrics, Adam Hills talks about taking it up the Royal Mile. The Royal Mile is the street outside, so all this suggests that they continued to take the cow outside and down the street. Was that part of the challenge? Was the initial plan to take the thing apart and then have it carried through the streets of Edinburgh? How far did this cow go?

- I have so far compared them to video game characters, board game characters, tag-team pretend wrestlers, a mechanic, and delivery workers. But my favourite thing to compare them to is probably at the end, when they celebrate like football players who've just won a big match.

"Great work everyone, good hustle out there, really pulled together as a team. Okay, now hit the showers. I want to see you all dressed and ready for milkshakes in ten minutes flat."

- There is so much going on in this video that I find it easier to not try to focus on it all at once, I have to do one thing and then backtrack. So now that I've gone through the whole video while looking at what the rest of them were doing, I need to backtrack and go over the lyrics to Adam Hills' song.

Question: Did Adam Hills think he was going to have to do this alone, or was he supposed to have Kitson co-MC-ing, but then Kitson jumped in partway through? Because I think the latter may have happened. Kitson was the compere for the whole night, as we see in the montage video.

Adam Hills If you had three chances Would you take them? Or would you quite literally bottle it?

As I said before: don't know what he's talking about there. What got literally bottled? Why three chances?

His palms are sweaty, his hair is sweaty He's ready to shoot spaghetti He's got a cow on stage It's got red horns, it's all the rage

This is veering wildly off topic, but I just want to mention that that Adam Hills got his off the cuff "stage/all the rage" rhyme because he'd heard DO'D use it in a freestyle rap battle with Daniel Kitson, that we know from the montage took place earlier than night (another one of my favourite videos, but we don't have time to go into this one right now):

It's cow tipping, it's not quite shitty Get that cow down in this city Take it up the Royal Mile, attack it with a hammer Kitson's on the stage, he's [?] with a hammer

Again, how far did the cow go? They had clearly planned from the beginning (of this song, at least) to have it out on the Royal Mile. YouTube comments confirm it left the building.

David O'Doherty's going up the ass It's time to fuck this motherfucking class Fuck the udder (x4) Let's get this udder fucking cow out of here

After all the times I've watched this video, this is the first time I've noticed that Adam Hills tried a pun on "mother fucking" there. Glad he's having a good time.

Daniel Kitson Davey, Davey, what you need to do Is combine the chisel and the hammer

Finally, some useful fucking advice.

Adam Hills There's Martin, Demitri Martin The Perrier win has left me smartin'

This was August 26, Hills' song mentions later that it's the last night of Late 'n' Live for that year, so the Perrier Awards had just been given out. In 2003, Demetri Martin won the main award over other nominees: Reginald D. Hunter, Flight of the Conchords, Howard Read and Little Howard, and Adam Hills. Adam Hills, who had also been nominated the previous year, when he lost to Daniel Kitson, and the year before that, when he lost to Garth Marenghi. So he is actually being, as a YouTube comment said, a pretty good sport to jump in and have fun about it. If I were him I'd probably resent losing out an award again and then not even getting to smash shit up.

John Oliver, he's the man If that pipe won't do it, nothing can David O'Doherty, he comes from Ireland, the land of the green Daniel Kitson, he's got a hammer He's also got one motherfucking stammer

I quite enjoy the way no one responds to any of this. Adam Hills starts calling them out by name, including bringing up Kitson's stutter and DO'D nationality and his awards rivalry with Demetri Martin, and none of them even briefly looks at him. They are all very busy and focused on the important task of destroying a cow.

It's time to break this cow down It's time to break this cow down It's not time to chow down It's time to break this cow down

I want this verse embroidered on a throw pillow. Actually, I think I want these entire lyrics printed out and framed on my wall.

Late 'n' Live, Late 'n' Live, it's the very last night It's time to wrap this show up tight Send it out the front, send it out the... [cow breaks apart] Break the cow, break it in half Lead it out the front to the path

Once again, talk of parading this thing around outside the venue. Where were they taking it?

Karen Koren, she's outside She's got petrol dripping down her eyes There was a fire at the Gilded Balloon The police found no one else was to blame If this season doesn't go well This fucking venue's going up in flames

That, of course, is a reference to the Gilded Balloon's history. It burned down in a fire in December 2002. It's now August 2003, and they're in a new venue that was rebuilt nearby. Karen Koren is the venue's owner. I'm pretty sure Adam Hills is implying that she's going to burn down the new venue if the performers don't do well enough. Actually, he's not implying that, he's outright stating it. What he's implying is that she burned down the first venue, presumably for the insurance money, and she is currently outside ready to burn this one down too, if they perform badly enough to make the insurance money worth more than the shows bring in.

The cow's in half, the cow's in half Let's hear it for the cow in half!

This is like that famous poem that was allegedly written by a child about a tiger breaking out of its cage. Sheer poetry.

Tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning sun goes up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be grey But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad

What's interesting about this is that these are the lyrics to Stan, which is a different Eminem song from the one he was (sort of) singing at the beginning, which was lose yourself. This may or may not be related to the fact that Adam Hills is the only person in this performance who was not a member of the Chocolate Milk Gang, which was a group of comedians known for not getting drunk during or after late-night Edinburgh shows.

It may also be related to the fact that this is a clip of the Edinburgh show that Adam Hills had just spent a month performing:

So he had Stan in his head all month anyway, he was on stage and remembered he was supposed to be singing an Eminem song, his brain told him that the Eminem song he sings on stage is Stan. Fair enough.

Though it's worth noting that those aren't the correct lyrics to Stan either. The Eninem song says the clouds come up the window, not the sun. Why would it be all grey and hard to see if the sun came up the window?

Crowd surf the cow, people.

I want all those lyrics printed out in fancy calligraphy font. And ornately framed. And on my wall.

So that's Cowgate, in case anyone wants to know. But this is just stuff I've said before. I said I had a new detail, didn't I? Well here it is:

Who is that man, sat unobtrusively in the background, playing the percussion set? Of course we have no way of knowing, in such low quality video without any clear shots of his face. Or do we? Because here is a screenshot of Flight of the Conchords, sitting on that very cow, earlier in the same night! (We know it was the same night because it was taken from the montage of the whole night, which ended with a second angle on Cowgate.)

Am I wrong? I might be wrong, tell me if you think I'm wrong. But I think that's Jermaine Clement playing percussion back there. Based on the evidence that: He was there that night. He does play the drums. He's a bona fide member of the Chocolate Milk Gang. And he has the same vague outline and shirt colour as the guy in those screenshots. And he was in the background of the Kitson/DO'D battle rap video, playing guitar, so he does sometime play music to accompany other comedians doing weird shit at Late 'n' Live. My new detail is I think Jermaine Clement was on the stage during Cowgate.

It is cool, really. I mean, I'm obviously being vaguely ironic by treating this late-night comedy show stunt as a vitally important mysterious ritual. But I genuinely think that what happened there is fucking cool, if you look at all those people being on one stage doing something so stupid together, and then consider where they all went after that.

And if Jermaine Clement was there, that just adds to it. The variety and international breadth of all the different comedy careers all in one place just as they were on the cusp of taking off. I mean, by plenty of definitions some had taken off already, but they have all taken off significantly more since then. Almost as though on one night in 2003, they all sacrificed a cow to the gods of success and it worked. Of the main five people involved in the sacrifice rituals, there are three Perrier Awards (Kitson, DO'D, Demetri Martin - though to be fair two of those were won before Cowgate happened so I guess we can't attribute it to the sacrifice), an MBE (Hills), and a shitload of Emmys (Oliver). Which I think they should all bring in for the prize task of the Taskmaster episode that I imagine with those five as the contestants (it's okay, I think this is worth setting racial and gender representation on panel shows back by 20 years), the studio task is to take a cow apart, the winner gets all the trophies.

That's a lot of countries. The Australian Adam Hills, the British Daniel Kitson, the American Demetri Martin, the Irish David O'Doherty, the Kiwi Jermaine Clement, and the now-British/American John Oliver. All with wildly different types of careers. All, for different reasons, among my favourite comedians. I have seen or heard all of the official video or audio stand-up releases by all six of those people (and possibly 1 or 2 or several hundred or so unofficial ones as well). And not because of this video or anything, I sought them out because those are among my favourites and then they were all on stage doing this unhinged thing together.

It's the great mystery of my lifetime, I still want to know where the fuck they got that cow. And I'm genuinely annoyed that I won't be able to see the stage where it happened when I go to Edinburgh this year, but it's all right, I'll look at the outside.

If I ever get to meet any of these people, this is the first question I'm asking. No I don't need to know anything else about your career, just please tell me, what the fuck was going on with that fucking cow in 2003?

[powderblueblood]

ohhhh 18, 9, and 2 for your Steve and Eddie (any verse you'd like

interrogate me about my characters

you are FEEEDING MEEEEE i'm sorry this took me like a couple of days my brain had to power back up after the weekend

2. THEIR EMOTIONAL/MORAL WEAK SPOTS

hellfire & ice/sequel!eddie starts off as your garden variety drug dealer and progressively adds a couple more tools in his criminal belt as the years go on and honestly? doesn't really see that much of a boohoo about it. yes, it's what the world expects from all munsons, yes, it's bad bad work for bad bad men but eddie can't see himself working a straight job. ever. he's not equipped for it. and, he's made peace with the fact that he'll never be a rockstar (jk no the fuck he has not he's so bitter) so he's all, might as well make the wasted years i have on this stupid earth a little more interesting. he's got a little bit of a robin hood complex going on once we meet him in his late 20s.

clear cut!steve is also a criminal albeit the smoother kind, and kind of works off a similar thing of i've never been good at anything else, so this might as well be my career. except for steve, it's banking on how far he can get with that tireless, bottomless, all-consuming harrington charm. working in insurance, or whatever the fuck his father did, never quite scratched the itch of bold faced robbery that... well, robbery did. it's funny, though. steve's never had the aspirations towards grandeur that his fellow thieves have had, because he knows what it's like to grow up in a cushy rich household. steve's just doing it for the thrill of fooling everybody. and he is, by the way. fooling everybody. even you. remember that.

9. HUMILIATING MEMORIES

hellfire and ice!eddie, like.... do you mean his entire life up to this point and actually, beyond. he once got so unbelievably fucking stoned that he thought calling a phone sex line was a good idea but then once the sexy operator lady picked up, he got so freaked out that he could only talk in fozzie bear voice and he couldn't drop the bit for 20 minutes. fun conversation with wayne about that phone bill. he's also written so much bad poetry, so many embarrassing near-self insert stories (one of us, one of us) where he romances many a comely elfin lady. he once slipped one of these stories into chess club captain martha peterson's locker in freshman year as, like, an effort at wooing her but then he got pulled into the fucking guidance counselor's office because she said he was stalking him.

old hollywood!steve... again. regrets. humiliations. he has a few. one could be punching bela lugosi out after a stage production of dracula because he thought he was a real vampire (drunk). another could be punching out an extra on the set of the merry widow in 1925 because he was sniffing around mae murray, who steve was also sniffing around at the time (jilted). steve was replaced by 'that rodent-voiced bastard john gilbert' and the extra he clocked? none other than clark gable. among other embarrassments; not securing a finalized divorce from his first wife before he married his second (drunk), the time he fully pissed his pants when buster keaton played a prank on him during a seance (stoned), getting caught wailing for a second chance outside joan crawford's room at the garden of alla hotel (that woman was inside having lesbian sex).

18. THINGS THEY'LL NEVER ADMIT

old hollywood!eddie knows his entire career is based on fluke, but he's too embarrassed to nurture his real talent, which is writing. to be honest, he does stunts because he kind of has a death wish. not being able to express himself was killing him, but he was always too full of piss and vinegar and cowardice to kill himself. but now people see him, or what the studios have made of him, and it's glorious and horrifying and naked and fake and full of possibility that he's too scared to touch.

hellfire & ice/burning up & burning out!steve (moreso sequel relevant, but) has always thought lacy was a fucking weirdo honestly and blames lacy for nancy pulling away from him during his senior year, not like nancy becoming a person was a factor or anything... until they're older and steve and lacy grow increasingly fond of each other. he wishes he took the job that his dad laid out for him on a silver platter sometimes and married someone stable, like tina or whoever. steve's increasingly more anxious socially as he ages, knowing that most people see him as some kind of joke, but he has to put on the face and be the guy, whatever that means to him in 1994. he's terrified that he's built his life around constructs that are flimsy; being independent from his family, following a path when he's not sure of himself as a person, desperately trying to make the thing with nancy work when she's there because he's familiar and he's there because he's afraid.

[alto-tenure]

Klapollo Fic Reclist

I should really do these more often.

In advance of the Klapollo Minibang dropping a bunch of reading material for Klapollo fans (which I'm participating in!), I've decided to compile a reclist. All of these fics are SFW, hosted on AO3, and complete. I've done my best to source the authors' Tumblrs, if they have one.

A lot of my bookmarks with Klapollo are all really popular fics, so I decided to go through the tag picking for some less popular fics. The results are a mix of fics you've probably heard of and/or read, and some you probably haven't.

Without further ado, let's get into it.

Perception by @queenitsy | T | 3.6k

Author's Summary: Everyone has a public persona, a way they'd like the world to see them. Apollo's perception lets him see through it all to the truths people try to keep hidden.

My Notes: This fic is more about how Apollo sees the world around him, and the people in it. Includes the things they lie about -- and the things they don't. It's a fascinating lens for a fic.

Things Are As They Are by @hechiima | T | 34.5k

Author's Summary: Klapollo cabin fic. That's really all this is.

Based on the events of "You Ever Been In Love?", in which Edgeworth gets drunk and rents a romantic cabin for Klavier and Apollo in Joshua Tree. Things go about as well as one could expect.

My Notes: You can, imo, read this without having read the Narumitsu-centric prequel (but you should read that anyways!). This fic can stand alone. I love the general laid-back atmosphere in this work -- even at its most tense, they're still on vacation. Almost all the stakes are emotional.

Turnabout Electric by HopeStoryteller | T | 87.9k

Author's Summary: You know, Apollo had high hopes for 2028. He and Klavier were actually kind of friends now, there were no impending disasters for once, and things were looking up. And then, literally on the first day of the new year... this happens.

Some cosmic force somewhere has got to be laughing at him. Some cosmic force somewhere definitely has it out for him, that's for sure. But the joke's on them, whoever they are, because his name is Apollo Justice, he's fine, and he is not losing anyone else... even if Klavier has already confessed to the murder Apollo can't believe he committed. And why does Mr. Wright keep muttering about this entire scenario being so familiar?

Or, Turnabout Goodbyes 2: Klapollo Boogaloo.

My Notes: I really enjoy the look into Gavin Law Offices pre-Turnabout Trump. All the OCs slot into the Ace Attorney universe well, and the way the author formats the cross-examinations is truly excellent.

(they long to be) close to you by @bevioletskies | T | 23.1k

Author's Summary: All Apollo wanted to do during his last summer before starting law school was relax, play video games, and flirt with the boy next door. He never expected to become a small-time Internet celebrity after his mother's YouTube channel for her animal therapy foundation turned into a cat rescue livestream. Things only get more complicated when everyone in the chat is interested in the cute guy who keeps coming around with his guitar and his dog.

My Notes: A sweet slice-of-life-y AU. The cats are all adorable for a bunch of plot devices.

just finally say you love me by ahmackalak | T | 20.4k

Author's Summary: “Backpacking through Europe?”

“Ja! I’ve wanted to go for ages – it’s been so long since I’ve been back home, I figure I might as well make it a whole journey.” Klavier’s smile is as easy and agreeable as always, but Apollo isn’t buying it.

Barcelona, Paris, Geneva, Rome, Vienna, Prague, Berlin, Copenhagen.

A trip to Europe with Klavier Gavin...this’ll be fine, right?

My Notes: Written for last year's Klapollo Minibang. Heartfelt. The travel feels very well-grounded in reality.

Words Come Fluently by @queenitsy | T | 50.8k

Author's Summary: Klavier Gavin is the most famous rockstar in the world. Guilty Love is about to go platinum and the tour sold out fourteen stadiums. So there's really, really no reason why one anonymous music critic on Youtube who hates him should get under his skin. And yet somehow he'd do just about anything to convince MikekoMusic to like him.

Apollo has been doing Youtube as a fun side hustle while he tries to break into the talent management industry, and he's just landed an assistant gig working for Kristoph Gavin. Whose main client is his golden boy younger brother. Whose music Apollo has been anonymously trashing for years.

Yeah, this is all going to go fine.

(No lawyers, no murders, just shenanigans. And Clay Terran lives.)

My Notes: I liked this fic so much I drew fanart for it. Identity shenanigans, and a fun Kristoph-Phoenix-Apollo dynamic.

fame vs infamy (the price of writing fanfic out of spite) by @letapollojusticesayfuck | T | 12.1k

Author's Summary: In which Apollo Justice becomes the most popular fic-writer in the Gavinners fandom.

(and, along the way, realizes his Big Gay Crush on Klavier Gavin might not be as hopeless as he thought)

My Notes: I always love a fic with CSS. In-universe RPF can sometimes hit a little too close to home for me, as someone who used to be involved in RPF-dom but got out of it. This fic treats the subject seriously, but still has fun with it, which I like.

despite everything, it’s still you by griffinhawk | G | 8.7k

Author’s Summary: “He’s probably not home, Trucy.” There was his voice, clipped at the edges, yet unease sparking around the edges like his guitar only a few weeks ago.

The same one that pointed, the one that objected, the only voice that had kept him steady throughout the courtroom today. The one that Klavier had learnt onto. The one that would spin Klavier onto the truth, whether he would want it to or not.

The one Klavier had trusted in that moment. The moment where he realized that - like his best friend Daryan - Kristoph had also been a murderer.

One who had manipulated others for their own self control. The one who desired the control so deeply. Having all the puppet strings cut loose after seven years of lies and deceit in three days time.

(or, Klavier, despite all the truths that were unshed during the Misham Tiral - has a few more truths to unlock - with himself and a certain defense attroney.)

My Notes: Klavier recovery fic, spurred by Apollo. Trucy and Apollo’s siblinghood is great, and I love the general softness of this work.

Apollo Justice, Magic Rabbit by EmpireofSocks | T | 9.5k

My Notes: I never realized “Turning Catworth” had a sequel until I read this lmao. Animal transformation is a funny trope, and I love this fic’s expansion of the Gramarye lore. They are literally magic!

Author’s Summary: Trucy accidentally turns Apollo into a rabbit. Chaos ensues.

lose your reputation by @littlethief | T | 8k

Author’s Summary: “Klavier never bothers to clean his office, and last week was no exception. Though everything had changed, the room would look exactly the same as he’d left it; blueprints of Sunshine Coliseum open on his monitor, the charred remains of his favorite acoustic guitar on the desk, and an open file folder, page turned to Daryan’s police department ID photo.”

in which klavier gavin releases his first solo album

My Notes: I love this look into Klavier’s second job -- the musicians he collaborates with, the people managing his career as an artist. Both the law and the music are integral parts of Klavier, and this fic negotiates the balance.

sleep is getting hard to get by @baratrongirl | T | 6.8k

Author’s Summary: The first of four stories about Klavier and Apollo's relationship with each other and with sleep.

December 2026. Klavier has had a difficult Christmas with his family. He invites himself round to Apollo's apartment for dinner and drinks because he's desperately lonely. He ends up staying over, and has nightmares. Apollo has to comfort him in the night.

Also features Apollo's cat, Mikeko, as a major character.

My Notes: Some nice hurt/comfort. Glasses!Klavier is a nice headcanon that I enjoy. 

can i go where you go by parchmints | T | 40.5k

Author’s Summary: Apollo Justice has rotten luck: he actually wins the grand prize for a mail-in contest, but It's a couple's getaway to a fancy ski lodge in the mountains and Apollo is aggressively single. With no one to go with, Apollo offers them to Klavier since surely, a rockstar would be able to find a date before then, but Klavier has a better idea—they go together and pretend they're a couple. That way, they both get a vacation, plus free food and wine.

And well, Apollo's never been one to pass up free food.

My Notes: A very good fake dating fic. I loved every bit of this.

Signed, St. Nostalgia by Synthpop | T | 26.5k

Author’s Summary: The Wright Anything Agency has earned itself an award for outstanding achievement, courtesy of one of the most renowned criminal attorney conferences in the country. Apollo has been tasked with accepting the award on everyone's behalf—problem is, the conference is in Chicago, and he doesn't have any means of getting there. Luckily for him, though, a certain prosecutor is more than happy to give him a ride.

My Notes: Roadtrip fics are always fun, and this is no exception. Written for last year’s Klapollo Minibang.

undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward) by @letapollojusticesayfuck | T | 59.1k

Author’s Summary: Kristoph Gavin is found dead in his prison cell, and Klavier Gavin is the prime suspect.

With nobody else available to defend him, Apollo Justice flies in from Khura'in to take the case--but during the course of the trial and its aftermath, long-hidden secrets come to light.

My Notes: Love the development of Kristoph's world and his complex relationship with Klavier.

it’s all that i am, and it’s all that i have by @x-eternalmagic | T | 58.4k

Author’s Summary: Apollo sucks in a breath, attempting to steel his nerves. Should he honestly send this...? He doesn't even know who this man is. This is a huge, huge mistake. But, even so, he hits send before he can remind himself of how awful an idea this is. 

Dear You,

I think I love you. Just wanted you to know.

From,

Me 

Klavier's phone pings with an email notification, and the moment he reads it, the smile fades from his face. God, this was so much easier when he didn't know that the sender hated him in real life.

[ or, the you've got mail au. ]

My Notes: I love a good enemies-to-lovers story, and while I’m unfamiliar with You’ve Got Mail, this fic is impeccable. I love the lowered-stakes of the music store business.

Hot for Justice by indirectkissesiniceland | T | 43.4k

Author’s Summary: After the events of State v. Misham, Klavier finds himself in a slump, stressed at the prosecutor's office and unable to pen new songs. To his surprise, he finds creative inspiration—and unexpected feelings—spending time with Apollo. Now if only he could release the new tracks without raising any suspicion as to whom his love songs are for.

My Notes: A humorous and light-hearted fic. Love Klavier finding inspiration in his pining for Apollo. Some parts of this might trigger second-hand embarrassment for those that easily get that.

the streak of green in sunset skies by @crowned-ladybug | T | 18.6k

Author’s Summary: “I guess I needed a moment when I was just...Klavier,” he laughs at the absurdity of it, but saying it out loud hurts more than he'd expected. It’s been so long since he'd existed without doing it for other people that he's not sure where the expectations end and he begins anymore. He's not sure there's even a him left under everything.

Mia nods, and when Klavier looks over she’s smiling, and he doesn't understand how. “Klavier, who pretends really badly to know nothing about coffee so that Diego will get to talk his ear off about it.”

---

For seven years, Klavier searches for answers. Along the way, he finds a family.

My Notes: A canon divergence AU featuring found family as the primary theme. Love the slow reconciliation and bridge-building between Klavier and the others.

amor meus, pondus meum by vnjc | T | 3.2k

Author’s Summary: It’s not like their separation agreement had a ‘The parties agree to never sleep together again’ clause, but as far as Apollo knows, the point of separation is, well, separation. Not this. At least that’s what he remembers from law school.

On reconciliation, loss, and awkward conversations. Not in that order.

My Notes: Love the usage of history here and the general structure & vibe of this fic.

if it’s really me you seek by @hychlorions | T | 83.3k

Author’s Summary: “Anyway,” Ema keeps going, fully ignoring his sarcasm in favor of staring at a neat corner where the walls meet the ceiling. “I asked if he wanted to go to your party together, but he said he wasn’t going.”

“What?” Apollo suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. “Why?”

“Hell if I know,” Ema says nonchalantly, but then she turns to him with a smirk. “See if you can figure it out: I believe he told me, and I quote—ahem—'Ach, I would, Fräulein, but I believe Herr Justice would be more comfortable without me there.’”

Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment.

My Notes: It’s been a while since I last read this fic, but I love the progression of the relationship in this fic.

This list is not a comprehensive list of every single Klapollo fic I think people should read. You can check out my AO3 Bookmarks for more recs, if you so wish.

[zalrb]

What would your argument be to ppl justifying Belly’s behaviour as her being a teenager? Because I’m like so is like every other character ever? The OC Gilmore girls one tree hill TVD gossip girl , like why are ppl pretending this is the first teenager ever and all is justified bc of it because teenagers make mistakes and their emotions are messy…

Well 1. She can just be an awful teenager. Like "they're a teenager" doesn't magically wipe away all bad behaviour, there can be particularly selfish and self-centered teenagers. 2. I've mentioned this in pretty much all of my reviews I think the show is too lazy to really tap into the chaos of emotions you feel as a teenager

I'll provide examples but I am well aware that what I'm going to say I felt and saw with these examples is what I'm meant to see and feel with TSITP but the issue is Belly is a nightmare because the choices she makes all seem entirely avoidable. And not like hindsight, as an adult, I now know I would not make those decisions, just generally, it's like, you could just not do that, Belly.

So, for instance, Oz/Willow/Xander in season 3. For two seasons, we see -- without reliance on voiceover and flashbacks -- how much Willow has secretly-not-secretly pined for Xander and she's given moments that are super teen and uncomfortable because of how teen they are. Like, they almost kiss when he wipes away the ice cream on her nose

and they're interrupted and she wants to recreate that moment so later on, she purposefully puts yogurt on her nose to get him to notice her

and it falls so flat

and she's crushed

she wants Xander to see her differently so Buffy tries to get her to dress sexily on Halloween

but Willow ultimately chooses to go as a ghost and Xander is a dick about it

and that's super high school.

We see her heart break

over

and over

we also see that every time there's an episode where Xander breaks her heart,

it's also an episode that shows that he will risk his life for her

he always ends up choosing her over the girl he's romantically interested in

in some capacity

so that when he finally does notice her when she's with Oz because Xander is such a teenage boy,

I've been aligned with Willow enough and the show has really solidified their relationship that even if I don't agree with what she's doing I'm like yo, I get it, if the guy I've liked forever is suddenly calling me stunning and there's a vibe going on even though I'm with someone I like/love I can understand at 16 how that's confusing and you make stupid choices

There is literally nothing about being 16 that will have me like I can see how Belly told Conrad to go to hell in front of everyone at his mother's wake.

It's one thing to see him with Aubrey and jump to conclusions and rush out of the room and as an anon said lock yourself in a bathroom or run outside and keep going.

It's another to do this

that's not being a teenager that's being a dick.

Added to the fact that the writing is weak like I said before I never saw this

I never saw Belly trying so hard to connect with Conrad and Conrad shutting her out, like again, we don't get this energy

for her to see him with Aubrey and have that breakdown. It's bad writing.

And then when she's drunk at the beach and is all "If I'd known you'd gone to Jeremiah, I would've fought for us" in the same breath she says "I thought we loved each other", he hadn't given her any indication that he didn't love her because he's waxing poetic about how they're infinite and he's making all these grand declarations that I'm just like, Belly what??

Another example is Joey/Dawson/Jen or Joey and Dawson in the first two seasons of Dawson's Creek. Joey is pretty terrible but she's terrible in a very fifteen year old kinda way where I'm like it's not fair, Jen does not deserve this but I understand it because you're fifteen and you're in love with a boy who is clueless and self-centered and this interloper comes in and takes all of his attention and you're not mature enough yet to be like this isn't Jen's fault. You're just territorial and jealous and angry and you're being horrible.

And the pilot does a very good job in establishing all of that in the first ten minutes because Joey is frustrated with Dawson in the opening scene because she wants their relationship to change, she's talking about how they're getting older and they're getting hormonal

and Dawson is so convinced they're not sexual, he insists they share a bed and says that he doesn't even see her as a girl

but it's clear when he sees Jen that he very clearly sees her as a girl that he's attracted to and it's frustrating for Joey to watch

so she's just angry and I get that.

Then when she and Dawson do get together and she kisses Jack and then blames Dawson for it and breaks up with him, I got why she did it and I got why Dawson was upset

I can get on board with the idea that Joey had been in love with Dawson for so long and had idealized him for so long and had been nothing but his best friend for so long that now that she got what she wanted, she’s having a sort of crisis and realizing that she needs to find herself outside of their relationship and that Jack kissing her was something new and it was wrapped up in her desire to learn more about art and find something she was passionate about outside of Dawson and that’s why she ultimately ends things with him because she needs to go do that.

But the thing about the writing for Dawson is that he is self-involved and he is self-absorbed and a majority of his friendship with Joey that we’ve seen has been him bitching about his problems (which isn’t to say we don’t see Dawson be there for Joey because we do but not nearly as much because at this point this show is still very heavily about Dawson, it is called Dawson’s Creek) and Joey responding to that and Joey will tell Dawson to get over himself, tell him when he’s being trite, tell him when he’s being boring, tell him when she wants to talk about something else, tell him when he’s being privileged, but she never tells him hey, let’s talk about me now, hey I’m getting kind of tired just being there for you, so when she’s yelling IT’S ABOUT ME, IT’S FINALLY ABOUT ME, I can see how in her head it is that but I think it makes absolute sense that he’s like ………. what? I did not know that’s how you felt and you’re making the fact that you kissed another guy MY fault what the hell??

And then she doesn’t give him a chance to do those things in a relationship, which fine, but then what gets me is that she wants to continue to be friends with him afterwards and is surprised and indignant when he’s like you dumped me and I don’t want to talk to you right now. Like NO. You kissed someone else, blamed me for it, dumped me, and now you want to be friends still? NO.

Like when you think about Joey’s “inner life” as they say so many times on this show, it makes sense, but because she is actually really bad at communicating, she just seems ENTIRELY unreasonable outwardly.

and it's like none of you handled this well at all because you all suck at communication but this is very teenage soap-y drama where if you just had the capacity to thin outside of yourselves for like fifteen minutes this could've gone a very different way.

I don't have the same type of grace for Belly who kissed Jeremiah then chose to be with Conrad immediately after, then had a huge public meltdown about Conrad being in the same room with his ex and then is now like hey I'm kinda vibing with Jeremiah again because it doesn't feel unavoidable or inevitable or understandable especially considering that when we do have flashbacks to her time with Conrad it doesn't seem like she felt Jeremiah's absence at all. She says that she missed him, Conrad says it's tearing Belly up that he doesn't return her calls but there are no scenes to actually suggest this and when they do see each other at Thanksgiving she makes zero effort to talk to him she just smiles at him awkwardly and makes a half-assed attempt to get him to be social

So Jeremiah now just seems like nothing more than convenience or a fall-back plan for her. And I'm sure before they get together, they'll have that conversation and she'll be like no it's you, it's really you, you get me but you were just breaking down on the beach to Conrad about how you would've fought if you knew he loved you while also saying you thought you two loved each other. It doesn't come across as 'oh to be 16' it comes across as callous.

Belly just seems like she does whatever she wants to do and makes herself the victim and messes with people's emotions without care and if that was the point, if the point was like oh yeah you can be a nightmare as a teenager then that would be one thing but that's not the point, it's just supposed to be oh the woes of a young heart and the complications that arise but Belly, imo, is entirely unsympathetic.

[faebriel]

and a bonus new year's treat - this puffychu fic has been good for me to get back into the swing of writing for the next act of rousseau's man, which is a beefy one. but for people who have been holding out since july (sorry. lol), here is a raincoats snippet from somewhere in act 2!! happy new year <3

"Look at the night, it don't seem so lonely... we fill it up with only you!"

Niki giggles, almost tripping over the footpath as she tries to hide her face in the length of her sleeve. Everything seems so much funnier after a few glasses of wine.

"'ve fucked it," Schlatt informs Wilbur, only slurring slightly. Wilbur stumbles, dragging Niki's weight halfway over towards him thanks to the arm slung over her shoulder. Schlatt must be tugging at his other arm. "It goes only two, dumbass."

"Artistic interpretation," Wilbur snipes back, and his arms resettle jerkily atop their shoulders - Niki almost stumbles again, entirely too short for this business, and Schlatt groans loudly.

"You're gonna make me fucking sick, Wil."

"You already - " Niki is beset by another set of giggles. "You already make me sick, Schlatt."

Wilbur absolutely hoots at that, loud enough for his laughter to echo down the empty road like a thunderclap. Schlatt groans even louder.

"You're both so fucking annoying," he remarks, but he says that all that time, and it has never been an issue even once.

This new place is twice as big as Perfect, twice as developed as their old server, and Wilbur and Schlatt take to it like fish that have long outgrown their puddles - bright and colourful as the fish that swim from salty rivers down to the sea, as long as her arm, fish that didn’t exist back home. Niki watches them brighten up as she dips her toes in, pleasantly surprised by everything from the way people smile at her as she passes in the streets to the swathes of new things they just… have, now. Wildflowers in every colour of the rainbow that dot the fields, buildings topped with beehives and copper, and vegetables she’s never eaten before. Her notebook is thick with new recipes scribbled onto scraps of paper and stuffed between the bindings, and the back wall of her new base is decked out in densely-patterned terracotta tiles.

Niki's house emerges on the horizon, and thank god for it. The brisk walk has sobered her up - it's a month or so into autumn, and the winds here are sharp (Wilbur even thinks it will snow during winter, which is exciting, because Niki's never seen snow) - but she's hungry, and it had taken an extra fifteen minutes to convince Wilbur and Schlatt not to waste their gold on kebabs when she has leftover pie at her house. And she doesn't even fumble with the locking enchantment on the door, either.

"Would either of you like some tea?" she asks, bustling in - unlike her old house, this one does a better job at keeping the warmth in. She immediately swans over to her laundry hamper and pulls out her house jumper over her nice blouse. She is cold, and coming home after a night out always makes her feel tired and ready for bed, too. She is absolutely kicking the other two out as soon as possible.

"Oh my god," Schlatt's voice emerges from behind her. "That is the ugliest fucking thing I've seen in my entire life."

"Rude," Niki says. She knitted this sweater.

"No, you dumb fuck," he says, already reaching for a finger bun on the plate left on the counter. Schlatt is usually extremely anal about his gains, but he loosens up when he's drunk. Stops staring at sweet things like he thinks they're going to bite him. Good. "The fucking wall. What the fuck else would I be talking about? Jesus fucking christ."

"Oh," Niki says. She turns to look at her feature wall - in white and orange clay, spreading bright beams from floor to ceiling. It's not always easy to track down dyes, but bonemeal, dandelions and poppies aren't too difficult. 

"I like it."

"Niki likes it," Wilbur echoes.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," Schlatt remarks.

"It's not that bad - "

"Not on my floorboards!"

" - you drama queen," Wilbur finishes, pinching his own finger bun as Niki scrambles over to whack the bathroom door open. Fortunately, it looks like Schlatt is faking just nausea to make his dumbass point, instead of actually sick. He gets the least nauseous of the three of them when he drinks anyway. "It's got - it's got suns in it, doesn't it, Niki. It's nice. It's morningly. I helped her put it in, you know."

"Of course you did." Schlatt narrows his eyes, chewing through his words. "She's fuckin' lying to you, man. Shit looks terrible, jus’ terrible."

Wilbur makes an offended noise. Niki swats at them both as she reaches for the kitchen counter. Wilbur, ever a sweetheart, reaches over and hands her a finger bun.

"It looks very nice," Niki says firmly, in her and that is the end of that tone of voice. Roll the dice - today, they've both decided to listen to her, as Schlatt rolls his eyes and Wilbur distracts himself by trying to find a nice way to rub stray icing stickiness off his fingers. "Do either of you want some tea? I'm going to put a pot on."

"Right. How could we forget about Niki’s nanna bedtime," Schlatt snarks. "We'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry." Niki, maturely, sticks her tongue out at him.

"Do you have chai?"

"Are you going to ruin it?" Niki shoots back. Wilbur always drinks his tea so sweet. "I don't think I have enough sugar for you."

"Har-har, very funny - "

"But no, just peppermint, sorry."

"It'll do. Never apologise, Niki."

"I don't want your leaf water," Schlatt pipes up.

"Some water, then? Normal water?"

"I'm already sober, don't make it worse," he groans, running a hand over his face. "I'm good."

Niki is poking around in her fridge.

"Milk?"

"No," he says again, but his face scrunches up in thought. "'s it hi-lo?"

Niki squints at the label.

"Full cream."

He sniffs loudly. "It'll do."

Wilbur eyes Schlatt judgmentally as Niki passes the mug over the counter.

"You're such a freak," he remarks.

"Don't you have a teaspoon to pull out of your ass?" Schlatt retorts.

"Ew," Niki adds.

"Schlatt." Wilbur crosses his arms, tilting back on the back two legs of his chair. "Not appropriate at the lady's dining table."

Schlatt just rolls his eyes, and takes a loud slurp of his milk.

Niki makes the tea and passes it to Wilbur, along with the poorly cobbled together teapot – auspiciously, the same colour as Niki’s wall. She and Wilbur have never been particularly good at pottery.

"We can't stay long, anyway," Wilbur points out. "Big work day tomorrow."

"Oh?" Niki has gotten a job laying paths, but it’s hardly the dream she chased out here. The other two, though, are still in the stubborn realm of self employed. Wil hasn't even touched his brewing stand since leaving their old server, as far as she knows. "Doing what?"

"We have someone interested in our new enterprise," Schlatt drawls, putting on his businessman voice - and now they're both tipping back in their chairs. She idly wonders which of their drunk asses will overbalance first. "Dare I say, the market will soon be ours."

"Bookmaking," Wilbur informs Niki, with twin self-satisfaction. "Enchanted books, specifically."

"Oh, that's nice," Niki says mildly, over another sip of tea. "I didn't know you knew galactic."

"We don't," Wilbur says smugly.

"We don't," Schlatt confirms, just as smugly. "But fuck, people pay a lot for those things."

Niki tries not to look pained. She does not succeed.

"Come on, Niki," Wilbur conjules her. "It's a good idea. Promise you that"

"Promise me you won't end up in trouble again," and that might be skirting a little too close to last server, because Schlatt and Wilbur exchange those silent looks she still doesn't know how to parse. Whatever. She's making her point.

"Can't make promises." Wilbur says, not unkindly. "Trouble tends to follow me, Niki."

"Speak for yourself," Schlatt mutters into his cup.

Niki squares her shoulders, but the fight is already lost - she might as well try to stop tidal swell with nothing but her hands and a kid's plastic bucket. There's no point.

"Just be careful," she concedes, and Wilbur reaches out to pat her shoulder with a brilliant grin. It's the snakey one again. The comedown from the wine must be making her cynical. She heaves out a sigh, and pats her hand atop his as she pulls a long draw from her tea.

Wilbur yawns loudly.

"Bedtime?" he suggests.

"Bedtime," Niki agrees, and yawns loudly. Schlatt immediately starts holding back a slightly-larger-than-normal gulp of air, eyes watering as he tries to look wide awake.

"Two is so fucking early to call it," Schlatt complains, still slightly slurring, but he'll sleep it off she guesses. "'m gonna feel like shit in the morning, at this rate."

"Bedtime," Niki insists, and Wilbur ushers the three of them outside.

The door opens, Niki stands on the porch to wave them off, but the doorframe at this height frames the night sky in an oak wood frame, and Wilbur points up excitedly.

"Look, look!" he exclaims.

The moon is dark and unlit, a new moon, but the velvet of the sky is filled with falling stars. They streak downwards, leaving long silver tails in their wake, swallowed up by the darkness in a few seconds. Niki squints upward, feeling the warm night air on her cheeks, and watches as they fall. The scent of something stark and acrid hits her nose, fresh and prickly all at the same time.

"End stone?" Wilbur asks quietly, more to the sky than anyone standing on the stairs.

"Smells like it," Schlatt agrees. “If it died up a rat’s ass.”

"I hope no one lives out there," Niki says, following the comets' trajectory to where they disappear into the horizon - into a canyon or mountain system or whatever.

"I'm sure they don't," Wilbur says immediately.

The statement settles between the three of them. People probably do live out there, is the thing, but Wilbur is trying to be comforting. It's not very comforting. Niki screws her face up. At least he's trying.

"Isn't it strange," Wilbur starts, and then pauses - either trying to remember how his tongue works, or working the idea over in his mind in that thorough way he does, filtering out the pieces he sees as unnecessary and streamlining the thought into something consumable. "Isn't it strange how pretty those look this time of night."

"Ay?" Schlatt asks.

"No, like - it's destructive, but it's beautiful. And we're all here staring at it, aren't we? Are we part of the problem?"

"I think I get it," Niki says quietly.

"You're both soft," Schlatt scoffs, but there's no actual power behind his voice. "Fuckin' pussies. It's rocks. And more fuckin' importantly, not our problem."

Wilbur cuffs him up the side of the head. "Yeah, alright, thanks for the input."

"I'm not standing around on the steps all night," he announces, stumbling down the turning set, and Niki watches with all the carefulness in her newly-sobered brain as he goes.

"You will go to bed, won't you?" she says.

"Maybe."

"Schlatt," she implores him.

"You're making the lady upset," Wilbur chips in. "She's gonna worry all night."

"I'm going to worry all night," Niki echoes.

"Fine," Schlatt groans, and Wilbur and Niki cheer - and then glance sideways at each other, catching the others' eye, and dissolve into a new set of giggles. Maybe Niki is less sober than she thought.

"Work can wait until the morning," Niki says definitively, definitely not bubbling with laughter. "You need to be re-refr - you need to be fresh. Go be fresh."

"Yes ma'am," Wilbur says obediently, squeezing her arm before he starts to amble down the stairs after Schlatt. "Sleep well, Niki."

"You too," she says.

[valeriasfragments]

Fragments About Sacramento and the Castle

[1]

She's standing at baggage claim turnstile of Sacramento International Airport sending her 13th unanswered text while trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest. 

Crestfallen and broken by the deafening silence. She wants the girl she has fallen in love with to at least answer her phone and reject her directly but instead she never hears from her again. Aching, wounding silence.

She wheels her baggage into a bathroom stall and cries so hard she feels like she's going to throw up, even gags a few times, her knees wet from the disgusting bathroom floor. 

This one hurts her for a long time, years of wondering what she could have done differently. She goes over every wrong thing she said.

They had talked for hours and hours, made each other laugh long into the night at the possibilities of the future they were growing together, and she never plans a future again, too afraid to curse all the good things she ever wanted.

And now she's here retching into the large bathroom stall, doesn't know what she is going to do since her return flight is 15 days away, 15 days she was supposed to spend with the love her life, or who she thought was the love of her life, now just a ghost in the shape of a pretty girl. 

She's trembling when she stands, spent too long on her knees and now they threaten to dislocate themselves under her weight. She leans in the corner of the stall for a few minutes, waiting for the blood to recirculate, and spends some time soaking up the piss from her knees.

When she gets back out to the curb she is crying again but now it's a gentle leak of her face dripping on her shirt. She starts texting everyone she knows in the city and luckily her friend takes her in for the duration of her stay, the endless kindness and generosity of the girl who loves cows with the rambunctious but lovable dog. She sees her first Rocky Horror shadow cast, eats amazing food, and makes the best of things as they were.

[2]

"So what brought you to Sacramento?" She asks from the bar, her bar. Her apartment is very nice, probably the nicest domicile I have ever been in. She has a great view of the town here as I sit on a white leather couch less than 10 feet from the bar, her bar. 

"Oh, just a little vacation in a city I always wanted to visit." I lie, not wanting to ruin the mood with more crying. I just wanted to do something fun, maybe memorable, and so I am doing something I would never normally do. 

Not that long ago I was standing in a dingy rented dance studio watching the Rocky Horror shadow cast rehearsals. My pervert brain is trying so hard to not look at the gorgeous woman changing mere feet from me and I almost fail, but I am saved from my own deviance when my dating profile receives a notification. “Hey, I’m a little drunk and you’re a lot cute, wanna come over and chill with me?”

I've been chatting with this girl for a few days, I'm gonna call her June because it's not even close to her real name, and I let loose that I would be in town for about 2 weeks and she told me to let her know when I had free time. And I do. I did. “I’d really like that :3 ”. Like I said I'm not a one night stand kind of gal, but I am trying to experience new things.

I meet her at the curb and she pulls up in one of those James Bond rich guy cars, a Bentley maybe, it's not important and I’m not a car gal. What is important is the car is easily over $100 grand. 

“Get in, cutie.” She smiles at me, takes a drag off her cigarette, I hear the automatic lock disengage the mechanism, and I fumble awkwardly with the door handle. I throw myself in, I am just closing the door and we are off like a rocket sending me scrambling for my seat belt.

I don’t immediately notice, it’s a block or two, but she’s very obviously intoxicated, too intoxicated to drive, and now I am in this car with her. And she is driving like a maniac. The entire time I'm trying to act natural while I am on the verge of screaming. 

Oh and this is where she mentions that her family owns a fucking castle in Scotland. She definitely has a faint British accent, a Brit would tell me where exactly it originally came from and how posh she sounded. Also she talks a million miles an hour.

When we get to her apartment I finally get a good look at her, everyone looks a little different in person vs photos, something to do with perspective probably. And my goodness she is incredible looking, I fight to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.

June is a 5’1'' Asian girl, black hair braided down to the middle of her back, sexy black dress with the super hot leg slit that is my FAVORITE, and a clutch purse decorated with glittery skulls. Her thick black lipstick stains her clove cigarettes when she takes a drag, and she wore sunglasses but was always looking over them to see.

She pours me like a scotch or something, I hardly drink it because that was never my thing. She puts a hand on my knee at some point and my anxiety almost escapes my mouth but I choke it down. My heart is beating a million miles an hour. This is so new to me, I am dying inside and incredibly turned on; a maelstrom in my mind. I am afraid of making the wrong move or saying the wrong thing, I don’t know how to act cool, calm or collected and I’m not a one night stand kind of gal.

Near trembling I think she senses my apprehension. She leans in, our lips meet, I can feel her hot breath on me, it reeks of alcohol, she leaves a bit of lipstick on my lips, I can taste her cloves, and then…  and then she pulls away, runs to the balcony and vomits the contents of her stomach off her balcony above the city. She calls a cab to take me home after a few tears and a million apologies. She never talks to me again. 

[nolanhollogay]

"can i kiss you?"

in my mikeyjohnb feels.....

cw for mikey talking about nsfw things dgdf but not in a sexual way he's just Talking and also mikeyjohnb smoking oui'd

+

It felt like it had been years since the last time Mikey and John B hung out one on one, which was really kind of sad because they used to live in each other's back pockets.

But it was fine. They had all the time in the world to sit and do nothing together.

Especially now that John B had what Edgar pegged as his "teen divorce" from Sarah. (He'd said it in passing, obviously joking, but it made Pope shoot orange soda out of his nose, so it obviously stuck.)

Mikey knew that it was because of his own pent up feelings, but he was kinda glad they were broken up. He missed when John B was John B and not JohnBandSarah. When they weren't all risking their necks for her every three seconds. He liked her, he really did, but it was good to have his friend back.

So, they were in John B's bed, sharing a weed pen that JJ stole off a Kook. He was supposed to be here with them, also partaking, but he said he had "more important things to do" which was JJ speak for being in gross love and hanging out with his boyfriend.

"Hey," he tapped John B on the arm to get his attention. "When JJ and Edgar bang, who do you think is on top?"

John B went through the five stages of grief in under thirty seconds. "Why would I want to talk about that? That's not my business. And Edgar is, like, suuuper Catholic. I bet they don't even have sex." He paused, obviously thinking about it. "Probably JJ."

"First of all, they're definitely having sex, and they're definitely gross and sappy about it. I've seen the hickies JJ leaves on him. Secondly, I feel like it might be Edgar. Church people are always secretly nasty," Mikey said seriously, passing the pen back. "I walked in on him giving JJ head the other day."

John B gasped. "You didn't."

"I did!" Mikey laughed at the memory. "JJ wanted to murder me."

John B blew a cloud of smoke into the air, laughing as well. "I'm surprised he didn't."

"Edgar doesn't condone murder," Mikey teased, "Gimme the pen back, greedy."

"It's not even yours!" John B said, handing it over anyway. He lied on his side to watch Mikey smoke. "Can I kiss you?"

Mikey choked, dropping the pen onto the bed and sitting up as he hacked up a lung. "What?"

"I don't know. We don't have to. I'm just high as fuck and you look pretty and I want to kiss you."

There was a lot of reasons why this was a bad idea. 1. John B was still dealing with his previously mentioned teen divorce. Mikey wasn't sure he was equipped to be a rebound. 2. Mikey had been half in love with John B for pretty much his entire life, and he thought he was getting over those feelings. If they kissed, he'd fall headfirst, right back in. And it would be pathetic. 3. Probably most importantly, Mikey's ex boyfriend was a literal murderer who wanted John B dead, and would absolutely lose his shit if he found out something happened between them.

Still..

"Yeah, okay."

John B's giant fucking cow eyes managed to get even wider. "Seriously? We don't have to..."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "I'm a fully consenting adult, Johnny Boy. Now man up and kiss me."

John B scoffed. "You're such a loser."

"A loser you want to k–"

John B's mouth cut him off.

Mikey's very first thought was Wow, he really needs chapstick. His second thought was Oh my God, I'm kissing my best friend. Then his brain turned to TV static as John B grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

There weren't fireworks, like in the movies. And it didn't feel like hundreds of hummingbirds were inside of him, which was how JJ described his first kiss with Edgar when he was drunk off of a USA FourLoko. It just felt like it was something that was supposed to be happening. Like puzzle pieces meeting up.

John B pulled away, breathless, and Mikey bit his lip to stop himself from smiling. "S'at okay?"

Mikey nodded, scanning his face to see his reaction. He didn't look upset or confused or anything. He just looked like John B.

"Do you wanna.." He glanced down at Mikey's lips, "do it again?"

Mikey had never wanted anything more in his life. "Fuck yeah I do."

John B laughed, before leaning in again, sliding his hand into Mikey's hair.

[stormyoceans]

what the actual fuck i'm so fucking mad you got that message in your inbox, you're like the most loving most positive person here always enjoying your interests in such a nice way like that personally angered me you don't deserve that at all. that was written only to piss you off please don't let them, your love for vice versa and jimmysea is honestly the cutest most endearing thing and it makes me genuinely happy seeing you talk about it so excitedly every day. their episodes were soooo good imho so cute so them! i've missed them a lot and i'll be rewatching FOR SURE! what were your fave 3 moments? if you can choose! fuck that anon and the other ones that might be the same person. love you monica keep loving them as hard as you do <3

ANON YOU'RE MAKING ME TEAR UP THIS IS SO SWEET 😭😭 idk if i deserve all these nice words but please know that i deeply appreciate them and that they mean a lot to me!!!! thank you so so much for this 🥺💜

honestly i LOVED the our skyy episodes like i know im terribly biased, but out of all the ones we got until now i think the plot for vice versa felt the most organic and coherent to the characters and their journey. once again everyone involved in the show put so much care and attention into it, and jimmysea have such a natural easy chemistry to them, they sell the lovesick fools who have been married for five years SO WELL. IDK IF I CAN PICK ONLY 3 FAVORITE MOMENTS BECAUSE THEY WERE ALL SO GOOD BUT LET ME TRY:

1) the beach scene. IRREVOCABLY CHANGED ME MY LIFE MY PERSPECTIVE THE FOUNDATION OF MY PERSONHOOD THE BIOCHEMISTRY OF MY BRAIN AND THE ENTIRE MAKE UP OF MY BEING ON AN INTRINSIC MOLECULAR LEVEL. AGAIN. i haven't even begun to process A QUARTER of the insane amount of parallels they managed to pack in just 3 minutes of screentime and how, by doing that, they were able to show just how far puentalay have come in their journey: from strangers to lovers, from a one sided drunk kiss to a passionate yet tender mutual kiss, from a mouthed 'i like your name' to a mouthed 'i love you', from talay's life ending in the ocean to the ocean being the witness of his love, that same love he once thought was just an annoying distraction in the way to achieve his dreams and that now has become an essential color in the palette of his life..... literally made me experience every single emotion present on the spectrum of human consciousness, im gonna need a 2 weeks long vacation in a controlled environment to decompress and recover from the sheer high romance and the whole entire everything of it all

also not to toot my own horn but i love being correct and never losing:

2) both the birthday conversation and the drawing one. SORRY I KNOW IM CHEATING BUT I JUST CAN'T CHOOSE BETWEEN THESE TWO MOMENTS. WHEN I SAY PUENTALAY INVENTED COMMUNICATION UNDERSTANDING CARE LOVE SUPPORT!!!!!!!! im not mentally stable enough to be coherent about this but like.. one of the reasons i adore puentalay is that since the beginning they have always been willing to try to understand each other. no relationship comes without misunderstandings or conflicts, they're always bound to happen from time to time because we're all different and we all react to things in different ways, but what matters the most is the way you can come together after that to face the issue and make it better. i feel like people often have this idealized vision of love where everything must be perfect and passionate and all-consuming, but i believe love is actively choosing to share your life with someone every day as you help each other navigate through it and enjoy the quiet moments together, and i think these two conversations show that puen and talay have this kind of love, a love that will last forever because whatever happens being together is the most important thing for them

3) puentalay and jigsaw sleeping in the same bed. LITERALLY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU EXCEPT THAT I PERSONALLY DON'T EVEN WANT KIDS BUT SEEING PUEN AND TALAY BEING SO TENDER WITH JIGSAW AND REARRANGING THEIR LIFE TO MAKE SPACE FOR HIM HAD ME LYING IN THE DIRT SOBBING FOR SEVERAL HOURS TO CLIMB DOWN FROM THE SUGAR HIGH THIS SCENE GAVE ME WITH ITS SWEETNESS. it also reminded me a little of the scene in episode 6 when talay admits everything he has missed about puen: talay has always been more rational and reserved with his emotions compared to puen, but it's in quiet moments like these that you can see how deeply his feelings actually run. both puen and talay have so much love to give and one day, when they will be ready, they're gonna have a kid of their own and expand their family, and this knowledge is gonna MAKE ME DIE HAPPY AND IN PEACE

[pangeasoftware]

every thought I can put together about my life right now

im pilled out right now over a back injury. i'm 26 years old. i've seen myself become a progressively worse and more wanton person over the last year and it's definitely kicked into high gear the last 6 months. any semblance of routine has left my life, i'm off my meds because they were making me have psychotic delusions about how the west is trying to trigger the biblical apocalypse eventually culminating in israel invading gaza & the west bank & building the third temple in 2025, 77 years after the founding of the israeli state etc. etc. (this was 2-3 years ago, funny enough these thoughts have completely taken a backseat as things intensify.) and i was very principled and altruistic. I was working out 3+ times a week i was cooking. I was at peace with all of my interpersonal relationships and making friends at a steady pace. I finished a song. All of my friends left town when I hit 26. I visited some of them after the fact but got drunk and tried to break into their place because my gf left her purse there before they ditched us and they got mad at me and we haven't talked since. last two months i've been going to parties but only really hitting it off with like, young girls which is not who i want to be surrounding myself with because there is no common ground outside of a party setting and it is just kind of sus behavior, also probably an indicator of where i'm at in terms of maturity, most people my age or older are like well known in the community or already have friends or talk about stuff at their college-educated jobs that I don't know about or look at me weird for how im acting or what I choose to talk about because i'm not very bright or plugged in. I started really phoning it in at my job where i'm supposed to be taking care of vulnerable people. at this point i spend probably most of my workday on my phone. i used to be really on top of things. I don't do it out of a sense of entitlement or anti-employer principle or anything it's entirely a lack of self control and nobody's there to stop me. I'm going to community college classes where i'm always the oldest person there who isn't retired. i've been going to these entry-level classes for almost a decade and it makes me feel really stupid. My relationship with my partner who i love and have been with for also almost a decade has been better lately, but over these last six months at times it has been worse than it has ever been, solely because I can't figure out what I want and can't appreciate what I have. I have sunk into a deep pit of lonely indulgence in response to feelings of anxiety about the passage of time (meaning: taking stimulants to feel better, drinking all the time, jacking off, eating eating eating eating eating). I think what happened is that the

passage of time finally became impossible to ignore. from 2020-2023 my life was frozen in a bucolic crystalline lattice of domesticity that i had a sense of gratitude for that felt limitless, unending in the same way that I had an endless stretch of time on the clock. I felt ahead of the game in a lot of respects. I had found the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with, every day I was making meaningful connections with new people, I had done my time at a job I found tolerable and sufficiently compensatory and was making the transition to an even better one. I finished a song or two. I started getting tired of the patterns of discontent, then pleasure, then fear, then gratitude that tessellated to form my interface to the things in front of me and asked to be put on a mood stabilizer. After weeks of steady unease i forgot two doses two days in a row and plunged into a deep and unfamiliar well of fear and resentment. Every thought I have had about the passage of time over the last three to six to eight to eleven years aligned to a point- I missed the boat/I am not where I should be at this point in time/I have wasted the entirety of my youth, the wick has submerged/the time has passed for every fantasy I had about what I could be or do or create or who I could surround myself with when i was "older," "grown up," or "had the time to develop myself."/there is no longer a single thing to look forward to, because you have missed all of the inflection points to pivot your life toward where you wanted it it to be. Thoughts I had when I was 22 and wasn't watching the clock as i should have been - "if i am still in school by the time i am 26 [something will have gone terribly wrong - this is a state of failure]." I think that maybe what was sustaining me through the years of wandering inaction/fulfilled contentment was the thought

that I would always have time to do the other things, these other lives aren't mutually exclusive to experiencing this life. this is maybe one of the biggest copes I have ever engaged with, it is a thought I have

maybe hundreds of times a day. I can still do the other thing later, I want to do this right now, this is easy. I can do both things. I can indulge myself and I can be the person I want to be. I can waste as much time as I like and still look back at the end of the day and be happy with how I spent it.

Every day is a clean slate for me, there is no time like the morning because it represents a perfect, unblemished chunk of time ready for me to: 1) ideally set my affairs right and fulfill my ambitions 2) actually thoughtlessly devour, only to wonder what happened when faced with the empty plate in front of me. i think this pattern follows to every other ephemeral thing in my life. the realization of potential is a little death every time/a completely lossy process. it doesn't matter that something real became of it, it was better before it condensed because it represented so many different possibilities that could not coincide.

I don't have anybody to "look up to" anymore. Nearly anyone who as accomplished the things that I want to do, especially creatively, got it done when they were my age or younger. The time has passed and there is now a concrete veil between my path and theirs, because I spent my time differently. it's a really bad feeling. I put a lot of effort and thought into the idea of making music. It's all i want to do when I don't have the time, and the last thing that I want to do when I do have the time. I was okay with resigning it to a hobby for a number of reasons. I was at peace with the fact that I will not be able to make the things I want to make, I felt like I fully understood that there were other, much, much more important things to do with my life. I understood that the casual relationship I had with it was what kept it fulfilling and healthy. but these I think were also held in place by the understanding that "there will always be time later." My father is a failed musician, a chronic abuser, a man who suffers regular bouts of religious psychosis, and is shitting in diapers because of his drinking habit because of a lot of this. that's another thing that kept me at a safe distance from these ambitions. I didn't want to grow bitter and resentful of the actual people and places and things that made up my life because they stand in opposition to a [idealized, meaning holding infinite internal complexity and potential as discussed earlier] configuration where I got what I wanted out of myself creatively.

I'm at a point where I don't really know what comes next. I got about as far as I had mapped out, and what happened in that time didn't span the entirety of the self-conflicting imaginary that mapping consisted of, and i feel cheated because of it. because of this feeling, I'm getting mixed up and trying to push buttons because I want to feel some kind of agency in my life and i think i'm going to get taken out if i succumb to that impulse.