#because it's three pages long and also makes me sad

[io-u-a-moon]

"someday we'll be complete like modern saints

baptize our kids in gasoline

and hang our doubts up in cathedrals

so that they turn to faith in the colored sunlight"

- Thursday, "Asleep in the Chapel"

[maddy-ferguson]

i was so ahead of the curve the curve became a sphere is literally me i skipped a grade and now my friends from high school are done with school and are getting their first jobs and stuff and i'm in school with people who were born two years after me. like i lost three full years lmaooo

[heegyukeluv]

love-battery (lhs) - req

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: Heeseung always would make you feel recharged just by being around. And you did the same to him.

my's note: hi hello here's a very fluff cute little thing! it's a request (thank you for requesting <3), so i hope you like it!!!! (have to say that when i chose the name of this fic, the jinyoung's song with similar name started to play on my head non-stop help)

warnings: skinship, established relationship, fluff, pet names, explicit language (i can't help myself. i'll always use at least one 'fuck' lol).

wc: 3k

NOT PROOFREAD.

Even with your boyfriend’s tight schedule and the fact you both lived quite far from each other, you and Heeseung always managed ways to meet up and hang out for at least an hour or so – enough to work as a full recharge for Heeseung.

However, for the last whole month you only saw Heeseung three times. You were used to seeing him almost every day, either by going to his and staying for a bit or he coming to yours for the same reason, and it was pissing you off how annoying adult life was being so far, unabling you to do your daily basis chores, let alone drive to Heeseung’s studio to be with him.

Heeseung normally had a tough routine as a producer by spending long hours in his studio, staying up all night working on his music and constantly dealing with tight deadlines. Your favorite hobby was to grab a coffee and some snacks to surprise him by showing up unexpectedly; and of course, to sit on his lap while he kept doing his things. 

But now you were the one fighting against time, as you had to deal with your last year in college, struggling with your final project and with your respective project partners – who would have thought that working with people would lead you to be that stressed, huh?

Your life was a total mess at this point, your sleep schedule chaotic, your body aching, begging for a pause to get some proper rest, but you really couldn’t give yourself that luxury; all the submission dates getting closer and closer making you go crazy in desperation.

And on top of that, you haven’t seen your boyfriend, the main source of your happiness, in almost two weeks.

“This is so frustrating, Hee,” you said with a realistic sad tone, when you decided to ignore the blank page on your laptop waiting for a new plot to pop up in your mind, and give your love life a little more attention, calling Heeseung. “It’s almost like the world doesn't want us to be together.”

“Don’t say such things, my love. Not even as kidding,” he interrupted you to say with a gentle voice. “We’re going to figure out something, yeah?”

“I’m sorry, Hee. But– I’m dealing with a bunch of stupid assignments with stupid deadlines in this stupid degree I chose, and you’ve told me early this week that you were pretty chill with your work. But I didn’t even have time to invite you over the days you said you’re free! Not to mention that if you were here I’d be paying more attention to you and getting fucked with my project.”

“Y/N–”

“And when I’m free you’re the one swamped with work! And, please, I’m not blaming you, babe, please don’t take it the wrong way. I love you and I love that you can work with the thing you’re passionate about. I’m just… Frustrated,” you unloaded with a long sigh, voice trembling a bit since your feelings were, also, a mess and your heart aching. “And I miss you so much. I wish we lived a bit closer, so we could meet more often in moments like this.”

You heard Heeseung soft breathing through the phone. He decided to let you vent instead of cutting you off, because he, more than anyone, knew how overwhelmed you felt whenever you had to deal with submission dates and projects. It was your third project in your whole degree, this one being the most important one, and Heeseung saw you in shambles during your working time in the smaller ones, fully understanding how hard it has been with this final one.

“I’m sorry you’re having to go through all of this, pretty girl,” you could feel the comfort in his tender, sweet tone. You wiped out a single tear that tried to escape your eyes, curving yourself into a little ball on your couch. “But you don’t have to do this alone, my love,” you heard a weird noise through his phone, very similar to a door unlocking. Your door unlocking. You frowned. “Don’t freak out, bae. I’m entering your apartment right now.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. “What?” You whispered in disbelief, your phone falling off from your hand, your eyes widening as you watched your boyfriend walk through the front door, smiling big and bright at you.

His dark red hair was attractively messy because of the motorcycle helmet. He also carried a big backpack on his back and a plastic bag with the logo of your favorite food place.

“You’re kidding me,” your voice was barely a whisper at this point, your lips curving into a smile that grew bigger and bigger, still finding it hard to believe that the man talking to you on your phone was now in front of you. Your beloved boyfriend was now in front of you. “Lee fucking Heeseung!” You almost squealed, walking in his direction right after he put his helmet and his backpack on the ground, to jump on his open arms which were waiting to embrace you in a tight hug.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist and your arms on his shoulders, his firm hands gripping on your thighs to hold you close and steady as you buried your face on his neck, inhaling his scent as if it was your favorite drug. You heard Heeseung chuckling at your reaction and you finally noticed how fast your heart was beating, everything feeling unreal. All the frustration you felt waving off your body quickly.

“Hi, baby,” Heeseung said in an affectionate way, with you still hidden on the curve of his neck, making him let out a small laugh at your adorableness. He missed you so much.

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, pulling him into yourself as if you could become one before you started to kiss every piece of his exposed skin, from his jawline to close to his ear, to his cheek, the tip of his nose and finally his glistening, dreamy lips.

Heeseung let out a contented sigh when he felt your sweet taste, walking carefully through the living room so he could sit on the couch with you on his lap, the contact never breaking. He deepened the kiss by slightly brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, electricity running all over his body once you let him in to feel him closer, so intimately; his hands sneaked into your shirt, caressing the bare skin of your waist just because he needed to touch, to feel you more.

“I missed you so much, my love,” you whispered when you parted away to catch your breath, pecking his lip countless times as you said “Missed. You. So. Much. Oh. My. God,” and the last one lasted a bit longer, making Heeseung giggle and kiss you properly one more time. 

“I missed you too, pretty.”

Heeseung was looking at you with so much love, his eyes sparkling in joy for finally having you that close, touching, kissing you. He caressed your cheek while his gaze wandered all your face features, as if he was trying to memorize every one of them, completely endeared by your beauty.

Heeseung looked at you as if he just discovered what love is. 

You weren’t different, though. Your soft touch on his strands of hair, scratching slightly as your contemplated every piece of your very good-looking boyfriend, not holding yourself when your fingers started gently to trace his face; his big deer eyes now turned into little crescents, his pretty nose that you loved to kiss, the little charming mole on his forehead, and his so, so attractive lips adorning the most beautiful smile you ever had the chance to see. You were so in love.

Heeseung felt like he could stare at you all day and he would never feel tired, actually to have you close always worked as a battery recharge. And for you, Heeseung did the same, making all your bad feelings wash away easily because you had him, and you knew you could rely on him.

Ironically, the sound of your laptop on the coffee table indicating that its battery was running out, pulled you both out of your little love bubble, startling you slightly. The reality check hit you with full force, and the bottom of your stomach sank immediately.

You gulped, looking at Heeseung with a hint of sadness before you sighed and said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy you’re here, but I–”

“You have things to do, I know,” Heeseung cut you off mid-sentence. His kind voice, the small peck on your cheek, and his cute smile making you shiver and melt. “But don’t worry about me, okay? You do your things, I’ll be around for whenever you finish, and then we can cuddle,” he said simply, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re staying?” You questioned with eyes sparkling in confusion. “I don’t want you to mess up your sche–”

Heeseung now stopped your talking with a sweet kiss, and then another, and another, and one more just in case. “I’m staying, baby,” he chuckled at your tilted head, expressing that you were very much confused. “As I said before, I’m pretty chill this week,” he explained with a warm smile, mirroring yours. “Anything I have to do, I can do from my computer or phone, so I’m all yours this weekend, my love.”

Heeseung fell even deeply for you when he saw your eyes shining like you received the best news of your life. And for you, you actually did. To have your boyfriend for a whole weekend after days without being able to see each other, you truly thought you were dreaming. 

So to have Heeseung feeding you while your hands worked on your writing was definitely something that you hadn’t planned for your friday. He was openly giving his opinion as well after you cutely asked him to, paying attention to every detail you shared with him about the plot you were working on. 

“So your idea is that after he leaves the house, you give an extra zoom on the door knob because someone is going to open, even though the house is supposed to be empty?”

“Yes! And then it’s revealed to be actually his ‘dead’ twin!” You explained excitedly, noticing Heeseung gazing very passionately at you. You blushed, feeling suddenly too aware, because your story now has been read by someone other than you. “I– I know it’s kinda simple and boring, but I mean– I got the approval to keep working on it, so…” You shrugged, trying to act cool, but your pout was showing how insecure you actually felt.

“It’s not simple or anything bad, my love,” Heeseung couldn’t resist the urge of kissing your small pout as he reassured you. “It’s impressive how your creative mind works, I’m really proud,” he said with his voice filled with sincerity.

You gave him a shy smile before going back to writing, heart beating fast with his genuine words.

Heeseung never left your side. You needed him around you every single second, not only to compensate for the days you were apart, but because Heeseung was really your source of energy. So to write on your computer while having his fingers intertwined with yours became a natural activity during the moments you were working on your project. You could feel Heeseung’s love stare at your face during those moments, completely in love by your focused expression. 

Sometimes he would leave your touch to reply to some of his co-workers on his phone, giving them the attention they needed, but in the meantime his head would be resting on your shoulder, completely addicted to your touch and to having you close – his hair tickling your neck making you lose focus for a few minutes.  

You both wanted and needed each other with the same intensity. Heeseung always loved your clinginess, emphasizing how lovable you looked with your pouty face whenever he had to leave the bed to go to the bathroom or grab some food in the kitchen and “leave you to die alone”, like you normally would say in a very dramatic way. Especially because he himself was pretty clingy too, holding you in a tight back hug whenever you had to go back home after visiting him at his studio, refusing to let you leave his side.

To move in together was a big dream. However Heeseung always talked with you about finishing your studies first before committing your relationship on that instance, so you could have your freedom without him disrupting your focus; he also knew that he wasn’t ready to have you so close for that long, afraid of scaring you off by how much he would be around you, maybe losing his own concentration on his work. 

And this behavior was being shown at that moment, by you doing the lunch and him hugging you from behind.

“I have to be honest, I don’t really see this as ‘helping’, Hee,” you said with a playful chuckle, not really bothered by his big hands resting on your hips as well as his chin on your shoulder while you did all the work. He was clinging like a koala, making it challenging to move around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? I’m clearly helping you,” he said with a babyish voice, making you giggle. You could tell he was pouting too. “What if you get hurt? I have to be close, y’know? To save you from danger.”

You laughed hard, throwing your head behind and profusely resting it on his chest. “The danger?”

“Yeah, the knife and fire and stuff…” He explained like it was obvious.

You turned down the heat on the stove, moving away from it so you could face your boyfriend, just to meet his big, adorable eyes looking at you with a dramatically pleading expression. “You’re right,” you said softly, cupping his cheeks and planting a kiss on his lips. “Thank you for protecting me from the dangers of my kitchen,” you added a hint of sarcasm to your very affectionate tone, without holding your smile when he nodded proudly, before pulling you closer to kiss you properly as now your self-proclaimed hero. 

After you finished cooking – with Heeseung’s help, of course –, you both shared the meal, doing constant “love shots” but with your food, just so you could feel each other’s touch.

Heeseung didn’t let you go back to work on your project when you finished eating, saying you needed a bit of resting time with him. And how could you oppose such truthful words? 

So you spend quite a long time of your Saturday afternoon embraced in Heeseung’s arms and scent all over you, making it difficult to choose anything different from being on the bed cuddling him. 

After changing positions many times, you now were on top of Heeseung, face buried on his neck while he hummed some random song, hands gently caressing your back and scalp, making you wonder if taking a quick nap at that moment would mess up too much with your project work.

As if a sense of responsibility hit you, remembering all your deadlines and especially that you had to finish at least the plot writing by Monday – in two days –, you forced yourself to try to move away. Your body refused, though.

“I should go,” you said, muffed into his skin.

“Yeah, you should…” Heeseung added, not moving an inch to help you with that. In fact, he held you closer. Your warm body against his own helping him to relax. 

“Like, reeeally gotta go…” You didn’t move as well, trailing kisses all over his neck as you refused to get up.

“Definitely you do…” His voice was a bit raspy in a sweet, tender way that made it even harder for you to leave. He was about to fall asleep.

You sighed, “I missed being like this with you.” You lifted your head just enough to see his serene expression; eyes closed, lips slightly parted and a calm breathing. You almost cried with the fact that you truly needed to go back to your life instead of staying there with Heeseung. 

Your hands caressed his face with all the care in the world, making him open his eyes, “I missed it too, pretty. I miss you every moment I’m without you, actually.”

You noticed a soft flush  on Heeseung cheeks and giggled at the sight of your ‘so cool’ boyfriend blushing in front of you. 

You always appreciated how Heeseung was not only a good listener to your worries and maybe overwhelming thoughts, but also unafraid to show you his most sensitive and vulnerable side in order to make you comfortable on doing the same. You cherished his presence in your life with all you had, not being scared of loving him so openly, because he did the same for you. 

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning in to tease a kiss. He smiled against your lips, closing his eyes again.

“I love you too, my love,” he murmured, mirroring your tone and capturing your bottom lip with his own, to pull you near and finally kiss you. 

You decided to stay for a bit longer, because Heeseung’s hands roaming your body with such care and tenderness, his sweet mouth working on yours, and his loving whispers against your skin were too irresistible.

The best excuse you found for yourself was that you were revitalizing so you could work better, your creativity would flow easily and you would finish it in no time.

And, well, he would be around you anyway, because he just couldn’t never get enough of your pretty face, or your joyful presence, or your addicting warm touches.

After all, Heeseung always worked as a recharger to your love battery, and for him, you were no different.

[veritasangel]

dear, i wouldn't bet your heart down

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: all sfw aside from one sentence (mdni), slight angst

wc: 798

thinking about how soon to be ex husband price always makes your tea in the morning just the way you like it.

it’s like his body is moving on autopilot and it’s not until he sets it down on your favourite coaster that he remembers you’re not here anymore. It had been a week since he'd come back from his most recent deployment to see the divorce papers had come through. he’d tucked them away in his office desk, hoping that if he could forget about them, none of this would be real.

he had promised you one more year and then he’d retire but it didn’t happen.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“You said that last time.” you can’t help but raise your voice slightly in frustration as you walk into your shared bedroom.

“I know, sweetheart, I just–” He sighs as he leans against the doorway, one hand absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, “You know I don’t wanna leave the boys, they’re family.”

“And I’m your wife!” you exclaim as you quickly turn your head to look at him in exasperation, “One more year turned into two, two turned to three. You’re never gonna retire!” You say bitterly as you look at him, shaking your head.

“You knew my job when we married. Don’t you dare turn this around on me.” He says coldly as he walks over to the drawers, not even looking at you as he searches for clothes to pack.

“I know, but it’s not–” you hesitated as your words caught in your throat, “We agreed that one day you would retire and maybe we’d start a family or something- anything.” you sighed as you rubbed your temple in exhaustion.

“I knew your job and I knew I’d worry myself sick every time you were deployed but I also thought that you would retire one day, but that’s not true, is it?” you said sadly as you waited for him to look back at you.

He turned back to face you and hated the sadness that was in your eyes, the tears that threatened to spill, it hurt his chest.

“You keep lying because let’s be real, the only way you see yourself leaving that job is in a body bag and I just don’t think that’s fair to me. My heart can’t take this anymore, John.” you’d said sadly as a tear fell.

He was instantly up and pulled you into his arms as he wiped your tears, “Shh no, stop that.” he whispered softly as he held you, kissing the top of your head. "You mean everything to me, love, we'll figure something out, okay?" He spent that whole night comforting you, even though he couldn’t deny your words and he hated himself for it.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

He stares at the cup of tea on the counter long gone cold now as he thinks back to that night.

He’d thought a lot on it during his most recent deployment and when he'd returned home, he hated how empty it felt. It wasn't home anymore, it was just a quiet house. He wished to see your glowing smile when he came back, the warmth of your arms wrapped around him as you peppered kisses all over his face and using your cheesy pickup lines on him to make him laugh.

Missed listening to you sing along to music as you cooked, or when you’d wash each other’s hair in the shower, though those evenings often led to you crying out his name as you lay spread out underneath him in missionary. Waking up without you beside him was unbearable and spending the rest of the day in a lonely house was even worse, especially when everything reminded him of you.

He had previously felt as though he would be letting the guys down if he retired, that he’d be weak for getting to enjoy the rest of his life whilst other fallen comrades of his didn’t get that chance. And in the process he'd forgotten his own happiness.

He sat down in his office that evening, reaching for the divorce papers, setting them down on his desk, pen in hand. As the pen hovered above the pages, he glanced at his phone, the lock screen displaying a picture of the two of you from a date night in the early stages of your relationship.

He hesitates, exhaling a shaky breath.

He reaches for his phone, waiting for the call to go through, “Hey Laswell, it’s John.” He takes a deep breath as he looks at the papers, “This next mission– It’ll be my last and then I’m officially done. I’m retiring.” He says gladly as he opens one of the drawers and reaches for his wedding band, slipping it back on his finger with a content smile.

I'm a simon girlie in my heart, but i know on paper i'm definitely a price kinda girl

༄ cod m.list ༄ reblogs are appreciated if you like it.

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[starry-bi-sky]

Hello Starry! I just had a thought about your Danyal al Ghul AU, and didn't have anyone else to share it with, so here we go:

If in this universe Bruce is Jewish, and Danny knows this(probably from a google search), he may wear a Star of David necklace to have a piece of his father with him at all times, since he knows he will never get to meet him. Or maybe the necklace sits in a box under a floorboard, because he can't stand the constant reminder of the father he'll never get to have. Maybe he observes Sam and her family celebrate Jewish holidays, or he learns how to by himself, but uses the time to mourn, instead of celebrate.

Anyways, hope all is well, and thank you for sharing your writing!

AAHHHH??? YOUR BRAIN??? Thank you!! I love sharing my writing, it soothes my need for attention lol. lmao, even. (Also how did you know i was thinking of my danyal al ghul au today -- i have an unfinished draft that i was thinking of delving into after my work meeting) also aahh!!!!!!!! im so happy that you wanted to share your thoughts with me about it &lt;333

But dude BOTH of these ideas are soo?? GOOD and ANGSTY. I love angsty. Danny would for sure know if Bruce was Jewish, lil guy did an obsessive amount of research on his dad the moment he got his hands on a computer and figured out how they worked. Danny has like, a three inch thick folder almost on his father alone. Anything he could get his hands on, he's got it. That thickness is almost exclusively from his first like, six months in Amity Park. He keeps it in a box in his closet, along with his growing-folder on Damian and his achievements as Damian Wayne. He pages through it when he's feeling like mourning.

First off: him wearing a Star of David necklace to feel connected to Bruce. That is SO sad and I love it so much. He bought it with an allowance he'd been given when he first started living with the Fentons, he keeps it tucked under his shirt so nobody even knows he has it. Sam and Tucker don't until it slips out while he's hanging out with them and when they ask him about it, Danny very reluctantly tells them that his father is Jewish. When he's distracted, nervous, or sad, he fidgets with it. How this looks is that he looks like he's kinda rubbing his chest, like ungrasping and grasping something.

Second Off: him keeping it in a box under the floorboards. That is also so, so good. He's got it in the box along with a few other things that remind him of his father and Damian and his mother. He takes it out when he's feeling particularly lonely and homesick, it's a feeling that never really goes away even after five years of living in Amity Park. It's like a longing for something you'll never see again, but isn't that just how grief works? i can just imagine him sitting against the bed, late at night and back from patrol. He's still in his ghost form, his katana laid on the ground next to him, and his almost bird-like cape pooling down beside him as he cups the necklace in his hand like he's cradling an egg. Maybe he's bleeding from somewhere, and he's telling the necklace about patrol, murmured soft in Arabic.

When he finds out Sam is Jewish he probably, after much consideration, asks if he can observe their holidays -- after all, researching Jewish holidays only does so much. Sam agrees when he explains why, much to her parents chagrin, and he sometimes tags along. But once he gets an understanding of how they go, he starts doing it on his own. Somewhat. He celebrates with Sam for most of it, and then has some time to himself where he celebrates it on his own. So it's a little bit of both.

^^^ which brings me to thinking about my danyal snippet here where Sam is at a Wayne gala and tears into her parents over Danny in front of Bruce. And it's making me think of, with this idea in mind, Sam in a moment of emotional impulsivity, saying "I know that he wears a Star of David because his father is Jewish and he wants to be closer to him, because he loves him so very fucking much." And while saying that, briefly makes direct eye contact with Bruce as a way to tell him "I know you're his fucking dad. Look at the son you have left behind."

If only for the emotional gut punch that can leave Bruce with. 🥰

Thank you for the ask! I had a lot of fun responding to it, have a fantastic evening/day/night.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Marriage of Convenience Chapter 1

Summary:  Y/N’s father is gone, and he leaves it all to her.  But in 1880s Oregon, she can’t own land without a husband.  Under the threat of it all being taken away by a land hungry Sheriff, what’s a girl to do with no prospects?  Maybe one of the cowboys on the farm can help…

Here's chapter 1 of the new cowboy!Bucky story! I hope y'all like it (see what I did there?).

Warnings: smut, slight physical violence

Next chapter

Her father died on a rainy Tuesday morning.  She was suddenly alone in the world, the last of her family line.  Well, not completely alone.  There were 9 men on the farm that worked for her father, and now worked for her.  The problem was that this was 1880 in the state of Oregon, and therefore her inheriting and owning the land and being able to pay the men was now up for question.

After they buried him under his favorite Juniper tree amongst the others that lined their property, they all gathered together for a family meeting.

“Mis amores (my loves), thank you for your help today in Papa’s burial,” Y/N began, standing at the head of the long dining table in the main house.  The men were stationed in their usual spots, each of them in a state of sadness over the loss.  “I’d like to read his will, if you’ll let me,” she sighed, opening the folded piece of parchment.  

“Mi familia, thank you for all you have done to make this farm a livable and prosperous place on this side of the country.  I’m not a man of many words,” a rumble of laughter spread across the table, “so I won’t waste everyone’s time.  To my daughter, Y/N, I leave most of my money, the land and the main house to do with as she pleases,” Y/N sniffled as she tried to not let herself cry anymore.  One of the men, Bucky, sitting next to her, reached his hand out and rubbed her arm in comfort.  “To Bucky,” she gave him a quick smile and a glance, “I leave my most prized guns.  Y/N knows where they are.  Please keep the farm and my baby safe as you always have,” Bucky squeezed her arm.  “To Jorge, Pedro, and Oscar, I leave my horses Beauty, Wind Dixie and Tramp to do with as they please.  To Joaquin, I leave my Bible and my best hunting knife.  To Diego, Santiago, and Emiliano, I leave the oat field further down south as well as the pear tree farm so that they can have land to bring their family to from Guadalajara.”  The three brothers burst into tears at the generous gift, giving each other hugs then standing and giving Y/N hugs as well before sitting back down.  “To Luis,” Y/N paused as she held her hand out to the man who was like a second father to her on her other side, which he quickly took.  “I leave my cigars and my finest liquor, and thank him for introducing me to tequila all those years ago.  I also leave a collection of my books that have been sectioned off for you in the study.  I hope as Y/N teaches you how to read more that you will find great education and adventure in them.  For all the men, I have created stipend accounts in each of your names with the rest of my money.  You are free to empty them and leave, but I hope you will keep them and stay to help Y/N with the farm or at least until she can replace you.  The account should last you for most of the rest of your lives.  Thank you for your service, for your kindness, for your grace, for your compassion and your love to me and Y/N.  You are greatly loved and I will miss you all dearly.  Yours, Frank.”

Y/N didn’t read the next page out loud because it was just for her to read, which she had done earlier in private, and sat down as she finished reading.  She felt exhausted.  “I understand that in Oregon I do not actually have ownership over my father’s money, land, or the house unless I am married.  Therefore, I am asking something of you all that is wildly strange, but since I have no prospects, I am at a loss.  Would anyone of you, of course for the exception of those married or leaving for Mexico,” she winked at the brothers, “be willing to marry me?”

The men all stared at her with wide eyes.  

“Mija, you can’t be serious?” Luis scoffed.

“I’m deadly serious, Luis,” Y/N said.  “Unless I marry quickly, the local authorities will come down and take it all.  I’ve already been threatened by Sheriff Pierce.”

“What?  When did this happen?” Bucky piped up, his eyebrows furrowing.

“A few weeks ago, when Papa’s health declined suddenly and I went to get the doctor in town,” she sighed, remembering that horrible day.  “He made it very clear where he stands with women having rights around here and how he would love to take this land for his own.  He implied he would force me to marry him or lose everything,” she shuddered.

All the men suddenly were in a ruckus, yelling and swearing about the sheriff and inheritances and the law.  Bucky sat quietly as he thought over the situation, then watched Y/N carefully.  She let the others have their moment of upset.  She sat rigid in her chair, the picture of poise and propriety, the opposite of how she normally would be.  Obviously the entire predicament she found herself in was weighing heavily on her and she didn’t know how else to handle it than to put on a brave face and act like the lady her father always chastised her about being, rather than the farmer she turned out to be.

“Callate!” Luis suddenly yelled, overpowering the others.  They all quickly sat and calmed down.  “Y/N,” he turned to her.  He reached for her hand again, which she gladly gave.  “Are you sure there are no other options?  Anything in the law that could help?”

“I have no options,” Y/N said drearily, her eyes blinking rapidly so as not to let anymore tears fall.  “I am a woman.  What I want doesn’t matter.”

Luis held her hand in both of his, his sad eyes staring at their conjoined hands and nodding his head in understanding.  There were a few moments of silence and then…

“I’ll do it,” Bucky spoke.  Y/N’s head whipped back to him, her eyes wide and her mouth dropping open slightly.  “I’ll do it,” he leaned forward as he looked at her.  “I promised your father to always keep you and this land safe, so that’s what I’ll do.  We’ve all worked too hard and come too far to lose it all now,” the men all agreed.  “And you deserve a better marriage than to an old, awful man like Pierce,” he added.  “I can’t say I’m the perfect man by any means,” Bucky held his hand out to take her other hand, “but I will try to be the best husband, partner, and friend that I can be.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears again, this time she let them fall as she squeezed his hand.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

“This is strange, but I think it’s the best option we have,” Luis agreed, making the others agree as well. 

Y/N grinned, freeing her hands from Luis and Bucky’s grasps to wipe her eyes.  “It’s settled then.  Bucky, we will go into town tomorrow and get that done and make sure everything is in your name before Pierce finds out Papa has passed,” Bucky nodded.  “As for the rest of you, let’s divide up your inheritances.”

As the day wore on and each man got his gift all that was left was Bucky.  He had been patrolling the perimeter as he normally did, helping with the animals when needed, and upon hearing the bell rode back in for dinner.  Y/N had laid out a spread for the men, a glass of her father’s favorite whiskey at each place setting in his honor.  When they had sat, said grace, and began to eat Y/N had let Bucky finish before pulling him aside.

She led him to her father’s study and closed the door behind them then walked to the wall that had his guns displayed.  “Buck,” she motioned to him to join her.  He walked to the wall, admiring all the different kinds of rifles and handguns he had.  “He wanted you to have these,” she gestured towards the rack along the left side of the display.

“All of these?” he asked incredulously.  “What am I gonna do with this many?”

Y/N laughed, “I don’t know.  Collect them, sell them, I don’t really care.  But he did want you to have something else of a more personal nature,” she walked over to one of the bookshelves, her fingers running along a stack until she found the title she wanted.  She pulled it off the shelf and brought it back to him.  Bucky eyed the book, not recognizing the title.  Y/N opened it, and he saw that it was actually a box made to look like a book to keep treasures safe.  Inside was a woman’s wedding ring, a man’s wedding band and a pocket watch.

“The second page of the will was mostly for me, with a few extra pieces for you,” she said quietly.  “These were my mother’s and father’s rings,” she explained.  “In the will he said how he always considered you to be the son he never got to have.”

Bucky felt a lump in his throat form at her words, his eyes suddenly feeling hot with unshed tears.  He gulped to try and relieve the ache in his chest as he watched Y/N pull the pocket watch out.

“This is for you,” she handed it to him gingerly.  “It’s made of the finest silver and gold that could be found along the East coast at the time when he purchased it.  He wanted you to have it to do with as you please.  He also said that the man to marry me would have his ring, and I would have my mother’s.”  She pulled the man’s wedding band out and held it out to him.  “I know that this is a marriage of convenience, that we may love each other in a sense, but that falling in love may take some time.  I just hope that we can create a happy marriage and maybe someday a happy family together, and work together to keep this land and our familia together as well.”

Bucky smiled softly at her.  You silly woman, he thought.  He had been in love with her for years at this point, almost from the moment he’d first set foot on the farm when her father first hired him as security.  He was a little bit older than her, so he just assumed anything like that would never happen.  But being out in these Oregon forests and farmlands far away from other towns made it hard to find someone worthwhile to court or marry.  Now he had a chance to love her, though he’d still have to be patient for her to catch up to him and his feelings.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, taking the ring and trying it on his left ring finger.  “Ah, it fits,” he said gleefully.  

“Oh good, I was worried,” Y/N giggled as she admired the ring on his hand.

“You should try yours,” he suggested, reaching for the ring in the box.  She let him take it out then held out her left hand to him.  He slid the ring onto her ring finger easily.  “Perfect fit,” he smiled, watching her.  Y/N gazed at her mother’s ring on her finger, the diamond shining in the firelight.  “Beautiful,” he breathed.

Y/N smiled and then looked back at him.  “Thank you, Bucky, for agreeing to this.  I know I’m no great beauty but–”

“What?” he asked incredulously.  Y/N looked shocked at his outburst.  “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

“Oh, well…” she sputtered, unsure of what to say.  “I mean, I’m not ugly, I just–”

“Y/N, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Bucky said so seriously it made her heart flip.  “Don’t ever think of yourself as anything less.  Yes I agreed to marry you because it will help keep the farm in your family, and keep us employed, but I also did it because I think you’re amazing, beautiful, kind, determined, and if I ever got the privilege to be married I would want it to be with you.”  Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding at his admission.  “I am honored to be your husband, do you understand me?”

Y/N nodded, her shock still evident on her face.  “I understand.”

“Good,” Bucky said with finality.  

They stared at each other, both of them realizing just how close they’d gotten during the conversation.  Y/N cleared her throat and took a subtle step back.  “Well, um…thank you, again,” she mumbled.  “I’m not very good with my words, but I hope you know that if I have to get married, I’m happy that it’s with you.”

Bucky smirked at her awkwardness.  “Well, I guess I’d better head out then.  Gotta get some sleep, it’s my wedding day tomorrow,” he said wryly.

Y/N snorted at his tone.  “Yes, I suppose I should get some rest as well.  It just so happens to be my wedding day tomorrow.”

Bucky hummed, deciding to try his luck and taking a step towards her.  “Does the groom-to-be get to have a goodnight kiss?”  

Y/N gave him a wide-eyed look as she fought a smile on her lips.  “Isn’t there some kind of bad luck for doing things with the bride-to-be the night before her wedding?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” he stepped closer, making her back up against the desk.

Y/N craned her neck as she stared up at him.  “I’ve never, um…kissed anyone before,” she breathed.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky leaned his face closer, nuzzling his nose against her nose.

“Sweetheart?” Y/N questioned him, her hands catching herself against the desk before she lost her balance.

“Can I kiss you…sweetheart?” Bucky ghosted his nose along her cheek.  “Just to hold me over til tomorrow?”

Y/N huffed a laugh against his cheek.  “O-okay,” she stuttered.

Bucky smirked at her again, her nervousness making him feel a strange sense of excitement.  His lips skimmed her cheek until he hovered over her mouth.  Y/N’s eyes were darting from his lips to his eyes and back, her breathing becoming heavier.  Bucky finally pressed his lips against hers gently.  He didn’t push for anything further, keeping his hands to himself, just enjoying the moment that he finally got to do what he had always wanted to do with her.  Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut when his lips met hers, her lips moving softly against his after a moment of her freezing in place.  Bucky pulled away first, still hovering close to her face as her eyes slowly opened.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered, giving her nose a quick peck before he backed away.

Y/N was still holding herself up against the desk, staring at him in disbelief.  “Goodnight, Bucky.”

Bucky smirked at her again then nodded his head as he walked away and out of the study.  He had to get the horses prepped and the wagon ready for tomorrow, then get washed up.  It was his wedding day, after all.

**picture is from Pinterest, A.I. generated, so no known "artist" or "creator"**

[0oolookitsme]

Daddy of Three

Type - A One Shot again!

Verse - Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n

Word Count - 2.2k

Warnings - None that I can find! (other than the fact that this is pure smut ofc)

A/n - Lowkey hate the title (you will too when you find out the context) but I just hope you enjoy this hahah <3

Kinks - Daddy kink, Face Fucking, Breeding Kink, Praise Kink.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Please rb to share!

Y/n was chopping up the vegetables she'd need for the meal she was going to cook tomorrow morning for Harry and Karan's lunch. Her eyes remained on her iPad's screen, on which she could see the page Carla was presenting in the meeting.

Clicking on the little mic icon by her knuckle, she unmuted herself. "Marla, don't you think that we should use red and yellow undertones? It's going to be a violent and a sad scene, I think it would work better," she said, not exactly agreeing with her idea of using green undertones.

"I agree," a few people wrote in the chat.

"But ma'am, we probably wouldn't have as much screen time for that scene. Plus, we have a scene inside the hotel's bathroom after that, which they tell us would give off green hues," Marla said, sliding photos till the bathroom set was on the screen.

Y/n hummed, laughing at how she'd absolutely forgotten about that. "Then I'd say that we do put green undertones but less. We need the switch between the scenes to be slightly puzzling – nothing like 'what the hell are they doing in the bathroom now' though," she said, making the other woman laugh and other people text the laughing emojis.

They agreed on trying the directory for the same the next day, and planned out a few more things before bidding goodbyes. Right at that time, Harry and Karan also got up from the couch as the show they were watching just ended.

"Are you done?" Harry asked her, walking behind Karan who seemed to be growing taller and taller everyday. It still mesmerized her, the resemblance between the two – same green eyes, same curly hair, same nose. Only his mouth matched with hers, other than that, he was a ditto copy of Harry.

"Yes," Y/n groaned while getting up, stretching the moment she was on her feet while taking a big yawn. "Not really, just a bit tired from all the screen time," she said when Harry asked her if she was feeling sleepy.

"Serve the dinner, will you? I just quickly need to wind my stuff up." She looked at Harry with pleading and slightly guilty eyes, kissing the corner of her mouth once he mumbled an 'of course.'

"Don't take too much time, though!" He yelled as she hurried up the stairs.

Karan climbed up in his chair on his own with a bit of struggle. He'd finally grown tall enough to be able to sit on the main dinner table, but still he needed a taller chair to sit on.

"Look at you going, already a big boy," Harry grinned at the little one, who was about to turn four this year. A breathy chuckle escaped his mouth when the boy's ears turned pink, he was born a shy persona but that never deterred him from speaking up when he wanted to.

Y/n watched from atop as Harry talked to Karan about the show they were just watching. It had shown some wild animals tonight, from what she could hear. She couldn't help but swoon a little bit on the inside as Karan climbed down the chair with a bit of grunting and helped Harry serve the table.

"Bring me a glass, please," Harry asked the kid just because he was eager to help. "Thank you," he appreciated him once the glass was on the table.

"Y/n –" Harry was about to call for her when he saw her watching him from the doorframe of their room. "C'mon, what are you waiting for?" He laughed, feeling a tad bit of shyness creep up on him when he realized that she'd been watching him.

They've known each other since childhood yet she still manages to turn his ears pink by just her gaze – it was yet another trait that Karan got from Harry.

"Could watch you be a baby daddy all day long. Just makes me feel so hot," she whispered in his ears, grinning when he slapped her bum sneakily.

"Did you tell daddy about the puzzle we solved today?" Y/n asked Karan and melted on the inside when his eyes lit up and he sat upright, suddenly excited and eager to tell Harry all about it.

And Karan's energized talking about the animals was how they spent their time eating dinner. Talking about Karan's puzzle, Harry's practice routine for the next day and Y/n's plans for visiting the set for a run-through were some add-ons in the talk here and there. Once they'd finished, Y/n took Karan up to his room to read him one of his nightly-stories, and lull him to sleep – it was Harry's turn to do the dishes tonight.

The toddler was extra tired today. He'd had football practice for a small upcoming match in his school, solved a lot of math problems and a whole puzzle in one day. So, it only took about four paragraphs of the story in the calming voice of his mother for him to pass out.

Y/n climbed down the stairs as silently as she could and pressed a feather-light kiss on Harry's neck, who didn't get scared in the slightest – probably because he heard her jam her toe in the leg of the dining table.

Harry hummed to acknowledge her presence, loading the last plate into the dishwasher. She stood back patiently, and once he was done, Harry turned around and leaned his bottom on the kitchen counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Then, y/n leaned in to press a chaste kiss onto his lips.

"Mm, someone's feeling needy," he smirked when she pulled back, pulling her in again by her waist when she nodded. "What do you need, love?" Harry asked her, pecking her lips again with a soft smile on his mouth.

"Need to taste you, daddy – been so long," she mumbled, slowly and slowly relaxing into his body.

He continued tracing the outline of her lips, "Is that so?" He asked again, and when she nodded he released her lower lip from under the weight of his thumb, watching it rise back to its place.

"Then we'll put that mouth of yours to a good use," he rasped, reaching for her mouth again as he slid one of his hands on the back of her head, pulling her hair back to give him space to litter her neck in kisses.

When her mouth met his skin, she left open-mouthed kisses on it and bit on a few spots before Harry started pushing her down on her knees. Once she was down, she pulled down his sweats on his command and watched as his cock stood up, already hard. She spit on her palm, lubricating his length as she stroked him.

"Hands behind your back," Harry told her, and started lowering her head on his length when she took him in his mouth. "Fuck," he breathed, watching her as he pushed her lower and lower on him slowly.

He cherished the feeling of her warm mouth on him, and when she reached his base, he let out a groan as the feeling of his tip touching the very back of her throat.

Y/n could taste his salty pre-cum that had started to leak from his slit. It would've been more convenient for her if she could've placed her hands on his thighs, but somehow, this position was only making her panties wetter.

When Harry asked her if she was ready to go, she quickly showed him a thumbs up before holding her wrist behind her back again.

Slowly and slowly, Harry started bringing her head back and forth by his grip on her hair. Her lips wrapped around him felt every vien as he brought her head up till his reddened tip. She managed to take a lick at his slit before he brought her down again, faster this time.

Now, her head was bobbing faster on his cock and with the way her saliva was starting to dribble down her chin, she could feel him pulsing in mouth as she hollowed out her cheeks when she hit the base.

She gagged a bit when Harry pushed in till the back of throat. And then, he quickened the pace.

He held her head in one place as she tried to swallow some of his arosual fucked into her mouth, the sounds of her gagging filling the kitchen. "Fuck- you're doing so well, darling," Harry moaned above her, creating a pace again – his eyes unable to move from the sight of strings of her saliva and his arousal moving with each bob of her head.

He fucked her mouth with a fast pace, his tips dragging along her tongue before hitting the back of her throat with each thrust. "Jesus- fuck," he choked, his hold on her head getting tighter as he began ruthlessly fucking into her mouth.

"Breath from your nose, baby," Harry told her, continuing to thrust his cock deep down her throat by now. She started gurgling on her own saliva and his precum, her arms starting to ache as tears leaked out of her eyes and she clenched around nothing, her pussy feeling like it were ready to be pounded.

"Oh lord," he grunted, slowing down his pace just when Y/n thought he was close to releasing down her throat, he brushed his hand through her hair.

Gradually, Harry pulled out of her mouth and just when she was beginning to think that something had gone wrong, Harry helped her get up on her legs.

She stumbled a bit, her legs a bit numb, and knees hurting because of the hard floor. She freed her arms then as well, holding onto his biceps as she balanced herself.

"Fuck you're such a wreck," Harry breathed, wiping away at her damp skin – not able to tell the difference between her tears and her sweat. "And because of me too," he chuckled, brushing her hair back as she caught up with her breath.

"C'mon, wanted to come down your throat, but I need something else more than that right now," Harry said as he picked her up bridal style in his arms, the veins in his biceps popping out.

"What is it?"

"Need to feel your pussy, darling."

When Harry dropped her on their bed, she immediately got up on her elbows, her knees touching but feet wide apart. "Fill me up, daddy? Want another baby," she whispered, looking at him through her lashes.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry groaned, climbing up on the bed while stroking himself. "Fucking hell – 'course I will," he told her as he sat back on his calves in front of her. "Gonna make me daddy of three, aren't you -- since you clear need one at all times, as well?" Harry teased her.

"Open your legs for me, wanna see ya." Y/n did as Harry told her and he swiped his middle finger through her folds, realizing that she was already soaking wet, ready to take him.

"Gonna give you all my babies, darling. Gonna fill you up to the brim and get you pregnant again," he rasped, lining himself against her hole, wetting his tip. "Fuckin' missed watching your belly swell up with a baby – my baby, " he said while watching himself disappear inside her pussy.

Beginning to thrust into her, Harry's hand came to knead one of her boobs. "Need to see you breastfeed a little one again – see those leaking nipples," he choked out, so turned on that he already felt close to climaxing.

"Gonna come for daddy, love?" Harry cooed at her, feeling her thighs begin to shake around his hips already. "Give it to y' husband."

Y/n lied there under him, shaking and moaning as the knot in her belly moved lower and lower. "Gonna cum- fuck –" she coughed, shaking harder as her skin felt like it was on fire when Harry started rubbing her clit.

"Come for Daddy, darling. Doing so good," Harry praised her, increasing his pace as he felt his own balls tighten. As he thumbed tighter and faster circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves, he felt her walls clenching around him.

"So good for me, so fuckin' good around me – fucking made for me," Harry grunted, feeling like he was going to combust.

"Co-coming daddy – O-Oh I'm cuming fuck-" Y/n stuttered, her back arching as Harry fucked into her pussy mercilessly. She could feel him pulsing inside her, and once he hit her g-spot again, she felt like she had been electricuted as she came on his cock.

Her cum went everywhere as Harry continued fucking into her, the bed creaking under his pace. "So good for daddy, look how much you came," he chuckled breathlessly, looking down where she had soaked him and the mattress, white strings of her cum sticking to his base.

Y/n intionally cleanched around him again, lying fucked out of her mind and breathless.

"Good girl- that's a good fucking girl," Harry cursed before he shot ropes of his cum deep in her pussy. Ramming into her pussy until she had milked him dry, he finally stopped when some of his cum started spilling out of her.

"Gonna fill you up again, make sure I put a baby in you," Harry told her as he wiped sweat off his forehead – grinning down at her when she hooked her arms under her knees, giving him full access to her pussy.

"Daddy's gonna give it to you good, sweet girl," Harry said gleefully, laughing when Y/n managed to swat at his chest.

[hellishjoel]

burning desire

10.3k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

summary: An argument with your mother before family dinner leaves Joel worried about you. He sneaks you away to grab a drink and talk about what’s on your mind. 

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, soft-hot-protective!joel, rocky mother-daughter relationship (this one ain't for the weak - mommy issues galore) & discussions of verbal fighting, slight clues of abandonment issues, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, praise!kink activated, unprotected p in v (yes finally, the edging is over), mentions of birth control,  slight cockwarming if you squint, slight degradation kink

A/N: I crave three things after writing this chapter: Joel, Joel Miller, Joel fucking Miller. Also, I’m almost done with The Last of Us Part 1 :(( sad that it’s ending, but it’s been so much fun to play! Enjoy this chapter <3 

Your parents make good on their invitation and ask Joel over for dinner. A steak dinner, to be exact. Paired with wine, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a pie your parents picked up from the local bakery in town. 

You sort of hope Joel pulls out his long list of excuses to evade any awkwardness. 

Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m finishin’ up somethin’ for work. Can’t wait another day. 

Or,

Hey, maybe another night. Not feelin’ too hot. 

When in reality, it’s more like, 

I can’t come over for dinner tonight because I might bend your daughter over my truck if I see her again. 

As active as you and Joel have been, you have yet to hit a home run in lewd baseball terms. In fact, all the bases in your and Joel’s game were totally screwed up. You hit third base before you hit first, and you weren’t even sure if there was a second base. It was all just so confusing now. 

But you wanted the home run, you wanted Joel, you desired him in that light. You wondered if he was ready for it. 

Screwed over by your father asking Joel over for dinner and screwed over by Joel agreeing, you had no other choice but to sit through it and act like everything was normal. 

And everything was normal for the first half of the day before you and your mother got into it. 

The argument was recycled. You wished she would come up with better material. But it always came down to what you wanted to do after this summer since you recently graduated. And that was an ongoing war. 

After two door slams, your mother retreating to her bunker, and you finding shelter in the bathroom, you’d say today’s battle was over. 

You sit on the floor, bare feet touching cold tile. In a way, it soothes your shaky body. 

No matter how old you get, this feeling never seems to waver with its intensity. The feeling that no one’s listening, no matter how hard you scream for them to hear you. Regardless of how often you have these conversations, you become a small child again, being scolded and told that what you thought and wanted wasn’t right. 

You managed to collect your journal expertly hidden in your bedroom before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom. You flip open the pages with teary eyes. 

You wish you didn’t have to admit that this was your safe space. On the bathroom floor, back flushed against the dark wood door as you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing. 

June 17th  2:28 P.M. 

Mom started a fight with me about not traveling again. She says it’s crucial for me to start my career immediately. I don’t even know what I want to be yet. 

You have to pause to blink back tears. You wish you had your life figured out like it felt everyone else did. 

Why does she have to care so much that I want to leave for a little bit? It’s not like it’s forever. There’s so much more out there. I’ve studied miscellaneous classes for four years and want a break. Why do we always have to have this conversation over and over again? She always asks how I will take care of student loans and bills. I have repeatedly told her that I’ve been saving up for a while to do this. She keeps saying she wants what’s best for me and doesn’t want me to start my career too late. She says it’s hard to let me go.

I love her, and I appreciate her support through school, but school is what taught me about independence as well as academics. I want to live my life and have experiences you can only get by leaving home for a little bit. Maybe then I’ll better understand what I want for my future. 

Your writing pauses, and you stare straight ahead at the beige wall, blurry eyes reading another cheesy sign. Bathroom - Open 24 Hours - Seat Yourself. 

You decide to spare a moment of your mother’s casualties and pencil in something else that’s been recently stirring. 

I’ve been seeing Joel Miller casually since the start of this summer. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. It’s weird -- but in a way, it’s also not? He’s older by like a mile, but he’s familiar, comfortable. Easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. I’m not trying to read too much into it, but this summer sucks less because of Joel. Whether he knows it or not. 

---

You and your mother work around each other while setting up dinner in the backyard garden. She steps back inside to grab more wine glasses. 

You’ve put on a nice summer dress. The hem lands somewhere on your thighs and flows with the breeze. After sobbing on the cold bathroom tile for an hour, you don't feel very pretty, but eating outside and soaking up some fresh air might make you feel better.

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

Joel Miller was the largest, broadest, lumberjack-est man you had ever met, but he moved as quietly as a mouse. Your eyes blink a few times as you haphazardly set down the bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table. 

“Hi.”

Your voice is raw and red, softer than usual. Joel seems to instantly take notice. You see it in the way his eyes soften. He moves a little closer, hands resting on the back of one of the white outdoor dining chairs. 

Your face probably reads more panicky than intended. He picks up on your faulty mood and assumes the worst. 

“Do they.. Do they know?” He asks, eyebrows knitted with a deep furrow in between. 

Your eyes go doe-ish, shaking your head and occupying your hands with a spare cloth napkin.

“What? No. Why would you think that?” 

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He takes one long look over your being and you feel it in the space between you. 

Somethin’s wrong. 

Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Joel. 

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing on you more. 

Suddenly, you felt exposed. Like someone had ripped the curtain open on you. No one had ever seen right through you like this before. It was unsettling, but god, you just wanted to lean right into it. 

If your parents weren’t just inside, you’d walk right into his front and curl your head in his chest just under the hook of his chin. You’d close your eyes and wrap your small arms around his waist. 

He’d encircle you in his big, protective arms and shield you from the pain you’ve felt today. You’d listen to his heart thrumming against his chest, using the rhythm to try and slow down your breathing while he whispers to you in his sweet southern drawl.

S’alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I see you tryin’. 

His eyes flitter into light again, ease passing across his features. 

“Like the dress.” He looks over you with a condescending little smirk. This man has never seen you in a dress in your life. 

“Shut up. It’s just for dinner.”

He lets out a cocky little tut. “‘Cause you knew I was comin’ over?”

When you look up at him again, his hand gently rests over yours. You don’t have time to appreciate it; the sliding back door opens, and your father’s big booming laughter shakes the nearby lake. Joel’s subtle touch is instantly gone. 

“Joel! So good to see you! Hey, great bonfire a few weeks ago.”

You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from the shop talk. You don’t want to be alone with your mother in the house, but the table still needs to be set up. You work around each other in silence. She grabs the salad, you grab the dinner rolls and green beans. You could hear a pin drop. 

---

Dinner would have been better if you had an appetite. You spent the majority of your time making a tilled farm field out of your mashed potatoes. You’d flatten out your helping with a fork and then gently run the fork’s ribs through the moldable potatoes and create little crop lines out of it. You don’t always play with your food, but you weren’t really up for conversation. Your mother takes notice. She hates it. She hates that you were letting your personal problems exist in the company of others. 

The only time you looked up even slightly was when Joel started talking. Sort of a calm in an unknown storm, you suppose. He looked so handsome without even really trying. You wore a crooked smile as you looked over the dark green button-up he was wearing. It was starting to be your favorite color, he wore it so well. 

There were points where your parents would turn to each other. And Joel would turn to you. It was sort of a silent check-in. 

Under the protection of the table, his hand found your knee, his big fingers lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It was the first time you cracked a real smile all dinner. Your hand ghosted over his, your nails lightly running soothing, slow lines on the underside of his wrist by his watch. 

You doin’ okay?

Mhm.

It didn’t dawn on you that Joel might have felt he did something to cause your saddened mood. And this was his way of asking. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling his fingers lightly interlock with yours over your knee. Your eyelashes flutter at the warmth it propels through your body. It was just what you needed. Everything was going to be okay. 

---

You’re working over a stubborn steak juice stain on a plate as the sun sets over the lake and glistens a soft yellow-orange hue through the windows in the kitchen. Your parents are moving around you while you rinse the dishes, back turned to them as they spoke in mundane conversation and pack up leftovers.

You don’t see him, but you can feel Joel’s presence as he enters the doorway. He watches you. He watches your parents. You wonder what he sees. The next thing you know, he’s shaking your parents hands and bidding them goodnight. 

He stops at you. As the running faucet splashes against a few forks and a wine glass, you spare him a glance. 

“Walk me out?” Your parents take notice of his ask. And not in the way you expect. 

You tilt back and forth on your feet, looking back to the dishes. You really just wanted to finish what was left to clean and read in your room for the rest of the night. 

“Uhm-”

“Go on and walk him out, honey. We’ll see you soon, Joel. Thanks for stoppin’ in.” 

Your eyes go from Joel’s, to your parents. If they were anything, at least they were oblivious. 

You and your mother share a look before she sighs and exits the kitchen. Your jaw loosens, not even realizing how hard you were grinding your teeth while looking at her. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Your murmured voice is barely audible above the gushing sink faucet. After you set the plate on the drying rack and smear your wet hands on a dish towel, you walk Joel outside. 

The night breeze off the lake sets in a layer of goosebumps up your arms. 

Joel’s boots scuff against the gravel and dirt in his driveway, his footsteps pausing at his truck and turning to face you. 

The rising moon and setting sun work in unison to highlight his aquiline nose and silver-sprinkled jawline. He’s charmingly handsome. Rugged features meet a stone facade. 

You take a hesitant look back into the house. The kitchen light is still on, but no one is in the small windows. 

“You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on with you?” He crosses his arms, cocking his leg out as he leans his weight onto one of his hips. 

You muster up a shrug and fold your hands around your arms to keep the light chill away. It felt like you couldn’t tell the truth, the house and your parents inside watching over you. The pressure of it all makes your shoulders lurch up a bit into your neck. 

But Joel continues to press you. You’re making him nervous, you think, because he’s not accustomed to seeing you so quiet. 

“Are you..” His words falter and fall off, and you can see the frown creased into his mouth.  “You’re wantin’ t’stop seein’ each other?” 

“What?” Now you’re the one frowning, closing the gap between you and Joel and taking him by his hand to the other side of the truck, using it as a shield between you and the rest of the world. Your back flushes against his driver-side door. 

“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you, Joel.” You frown and squeeze his hand a little tighter in assurance. “Trust me. You’re kind of..” You struggle to make the words fit. Nothing seems right. You’re kind of the only person I want to be around right now.

Joel looks a little relieved. He doesn’t make you finish your sentence. He seems to connect the dots. Joel looks from your solemn face to the house behind you—the cause of your ill-stricken mood. 

“How about we grab a drink n’talk.” It’s not a question, exactly, it’s more like a command. 

You don’t want to talk about what happened, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you two go off together, your parents will be asking questions. 

You push the toe of your sneaker into the gravel and twist slowly back and forth. 

“I should just head back inside. My parents are probably waiting up for me, anyway. Cleanup duty.” You say unenthusiastically with a dash of sarcasm. Joel’s eyes are looking past you, still at the house. You turn around to follow his eyeline. All the lights in the house have been turned off—even the porch light. Joel scowls at the sight, thinking how he always leaves the light on for Sarah. 

The caged-in feeling returns, your chest tight as you look to your feet and try to breathe through the ache your heart held. You wanted to get out of here, and now. 

“Never mind.” You bite down on your lower lip to hold it together. “Let’s go.” 

You’re already swinging open Joel’s door, rust creaking at the joints as you slide into the passenger seat. These old trucks with no center console were so cool to you. Maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren’t in such a shitty mood. But Joel’s already in the truck beside you, the warmth he’s radiating was welcome. His key turns in the ignition, and it clicks a few times before the engine roars to life. 

You don’t talk, he doesn’t force you to. You feel at peace putting some distance between you and the lakehouse. 

Joel drives past neighborhoods with funny street names.  Thunderbird Lane. Firefly Drive. Sugar Loaf Lane.

As the sun just finishes setting, the whole town is covered in an orange glow that will soon fade to purple. Everything flies by your window, and moving at this speed feels like the cage is lifting around your chest, the clasps on your wrist snapping free. 

Rolling down the window makes the breeze funnel into the truck and flow through your hair. Before you know it, your body is halfway out of the window. 

“What ‘n God’s name do you think you’re doin’?” Joel’s tone was warning, his fist catching your dress in a fist around your lower back in an attempt to make sure you didn’t get thrown out of the truck.  “Get back in here.” 

You turned back so Joel could see you, eyes lit, and a smile from ear to ear. His hold slowly loosens at the sight before him. 

Back arched out the window, he drives a little slower and towards the center of the road. You look up, arms outstretched into the night air as you breathe everything in. Fresh lungs, filled with a new perspective, no tears left to cry as you hang out of Joel’s window. The stars gleam, and the universe is vast.

Oh my god. You hear yourself mumble, feeling freedom reeling through your entire body. And like that, you were new again. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips. You’re back in the truck now, and you roll the window up but not completely closed. The wind still tickles a breeze into your thrown-about hair. You look to Joel, his eyes already on yours. 

Joel sees your fire has been re-lit, thrashing out licks of flame and building in intensity. He adores you wild and free.

“Better?”

You fix the space between you, your body melting into his side as your head lazily rolls onto his shoulder. His heavy arm finds its way around the tops of your shoulders to keep you sedentary. 

“Much better.” 

---

He ends up passing the central part of town. It’s better this way. Go somewhere he won’t be recognized with a woman half his age. He’s the one who lives in town throughout the year. You and your family only visit in the summer. It doesn’t help that the town is small, and Joel is one of a handful of skilled contractors in the area. 

His rusted truck lulls to a jittery stop outside a small bar lit by a red neon sign reading, Past Lives. You wander inside, passing empty barstools and a glowing dartboard, while your sneakers crunch peanut shells littering the ground. You nearly slipped on a large pile of them, but Joel’s hand was firmly on your bicep before you could flail any further. 

“You might be the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters, annoyance passing over his features. 

You roll your eyes and scoot onto one of the tall barstools at a small square table against the wall. “I doubt that’s true.” 

He shrugs his shoulders and cracks open a peanut, tossing it into his mouth. “You’re right. Your mother is the clumsiest woman I know. You get it from her. Once, I watched her glide five or six feet down the end of the dock and land in the water.” 

An ill feeling passes over you again, pursing your lips as you trace your finger around the small bowl Joel is picking his peanuts from. 

Joel halts his movements, chewing included, and watches as your eyes stare meaninglessly at the table. 

“Never really seen you like this. Thought I’d like it if you were quiet for once. But now it just feels out of character.” 

Joel’s boot teasingly nudges your sneaker under the table. His brown eyes look warm despite the lack of light in the dingy bar. Your stomach twists thinking about how he looked under the moonlight just half an hour ago. 

Those pretty eyes of his meet yours. Soft. Kind. “Talk to me.”

A beaten-up sigh leaves your lips, tugging at the hem of your dress. 

After a drink or two, you tell Joel everything he missed before dinner. How you and your mother fought. How it was all venom and tears, leaving you cold and alone on the bathroom tile. By the time the battle came to a halt, there was no clear winner or loser. 

Joel’s an attentive listener. He doesn’t interrupt. He knows when to prompt you need a push. Joel’s pile of peanut shells has turned into a small molehill. The ice in your drink sloshes around as you start talking with your hands. 

“I love her, I mean, she’s my mom. But she’s always fought me on this. This-this-...”  

“The traveling,” Joel assists, his large hand nursing a small glass of whiskey. He looks amused like he enjoys watching you spew. You supposed he feels more relieved to see you explode like this rather than holding it all in.

“And-and it’s so much more than that! She fought me about leaving Texas for school, she fought me about doing a semester abroad, she just can’t let me go, it’s suffocating!” 

You didn’t mean to sound so passionate, and you hadn’t realized how vocal you became until someone slowly clapped on the other side of the bar in appreciation. You stifled a laugh and put your head shyly in your hands. 

He nods slowly, waiting to see what you’ll say next. You’re using him like you’re journaling at home, now it’s just interactive. 

You sigh and pinch at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you listen to an old country slow song humming throughout the bar. 

“Didn’t even wanna come back this year.” Your words are barely above a murmur. 

This makes Joel pause. “What d’you say?” 

You sit up straight and sigh, crossing one leg over the other under the table. These stupid drinks are making you tell the truth. Be more vulnerable than you would ordinarily be. But it’s also because you’re talking to Joel, and he’s always been interested in what you have to say. 

“I didn’t want to come back this year. These past few years, I didn’t come back to Danbury because I sort of- purposely- busied up my summer. Internships, work, anything to keep me busy and out from under their-their….” You pause to make hand gestures that are wide and all-encompassing. 

Joel juts his jaw out to the side, lips pursed before he speaks again. 

“M’happy you came back.”  

There’s a moment of silence. Joel’s eyes aren’t on yours anymore. He’s swirling his glass around slowly and watching his ice rotate in a sloppy circle. You slowly start to smile as he looks bashful. 

“What did you say, Mr.Miller?” You pry teasingly, reaching your hand over and gently stroking his watch band. The nickname makes his eyes narrow on yours. 

“Nothin’. Forget about it.” He throws back the last of his drink, and you’re cooing for him to continue. 

“Wha- Joel, come on! Why did you say that?” 

He’s just trying to buckle down his smile, hiding it with his whiskey glass and shaking his head. 

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

“Yes, you so did. Don’t even try to lie.” 

“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”

Your eyes go wide, and now you’re smacking his forearm. He’s shoving quarters at you now, sliding them to your side of the table as a form of distraction. 

“Can you just-” He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes, finalizing his quarter total to four. “-fuck off, go put a song on the jukebox.” 

You sneer at him but obey. You look for something particular, pausing on Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac, smirking at him as you punch in his quarters. He seems confused as to why you stay standing at the jukebox. 

The chorus hits, and you point accusingly at him as you do so. 

“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,” you can’t even finish before your right foot catches on more slippery peanut shells, freezing like you were caught on ice skates and trying not to fall. 

Joel’s hand has a vice grip on your bicep again until you regain your balance. God. Your face gathers heat as you snatch your phone off the table, and he lets out a laugh at your expense. 

“Can’t sing,”

“Hey-”

“Can’t walk in a straight line.”

“I had like four drinks.”

“Two.” He corrects. There’s no hiding that you’re just unbearably uncoordinated. 

“God. Just- get me out of here, Miller.” 

Joel was biting back a smile. He likes teasing you, taunting you. Only because you know how to serve it back to him. 

“Not until you see this. Wanna show you somethin’.” He sets down his whiskey and lays down cash to cover the tab. 

You start your stride, and Joel’s already looking at you with instilled concern. You insist I’m fine. Go on. You follow him through a narrow hallway towards the restrooms, an exit door lit up with a red sign over it. 

The walls are filled with signs, pictures, and letters, all illuminated by a soft flickering strip light.  These were trails that people had left along the way, passing through the bar and leaving a piece of them behind for strangers to admire. It was like a memory wall. 

Joel leans back against the men’s restroom doorframe, arms crossed as he silently admires the wall. And you. 

Your fingers brush an old family picture timestamped from the late 80s. There were business cards, from bankers to bonds bailsman. 

You feel Joel’s hand cast warmth on your hip, guiding you further down the hall. You follow his eyeline to a large yellow-light spoiled wall map. There were push pins all in different parts of the world. 

“Look at all of these, Joel!” Your eagerness was evident as you stepped in front of him, finger flying from one point to the next, squinting past the tacks to read the cities people have visited. 

“Bangkok, Thailand. Paris, France. Of course. London, Dubai, Tokyo.” Your voice trails off, finger-stopping around the empty parts of the map that some of the bargoers had yet to venture off to. The pins around the state of Texas were ironic. 

You gently took a step back, Joel's broad and hardened front caressing your back. His arms gently wrap around you before they clasp at your front. You rest your temple against his bicep as you sigh. You found comfort in him tonight more than he could understand. 

Your neck cranes to the side and up, observing his defined jawline from below. “Have you ever been out of the country?” Your face is lit with excitement, only to fall as he slowly shakes his head. You turn back to the map, your fingers gently holding onto his muscular forearm. 

“Am I crazy for wanting to leave?” 

You can feel a heavy breath leave through Joel’s nose, the air fanning over the top of your head. 

“You’re not leavin’. You’re travelin’. You’ll come back, eventually.” 

The muscle in your jaw twitches, and your eyes move to the Eastern side of the map, spotting the tiny European countries. 

“Maybe my mom is so worried that if I decide to leave, I might not come back.” You say it as a joke. It makes Joel muster up a tut. But maybe, just maybe, you mean it.

---

You feel drops scatter from the dark black clouds overhead as you rush out to the truck, feeling the cold rain splash onto the exposed skin of your thighs.

Joel’s hot on your heels, doing his little side hop down the stairs and jogging lightly with his arms tucked into his sides. He’s already tossed you the keys to his truck. His body hovers over yours and shields the raindrops from landing on your head as you fiddle with unlocking the truck door. 

“Any day now.”

His babbling thwarts your concentration. 

“Fuck off, it’s like- rusted shut.” You tease before giving the handle one large tug, and it gives way with a creak. You slip in, dress hem tangling up on your upper thighs. Your hand flies to fix it instinctually, but you slow down when you see how adamantly Joel admires the exposed skin.

When you two make eye contact, he’s already cleared his throat and put the key in the ignition. He cranes his neck back to look out the rearview window, left hand cranking the wheel with precision while his right arm wraps around the back of your headrest. You swallow the lump in your throat, watching Joel reverse out of the bar’s parking lot and back onto the main road.

Your heart thumps, and you think he can hear it because his eyes are on yours when he turns back around. Magnetizing. And you have a hard time facing him without feeling a little shy. Because you’re thinking incredibly naughty things now. 

On the drive home, the rain pelts the truck and hard. Joel’s wimpy wipers are working at full speed. He’s not concerned because he knows these streets with his eyes closed. He turns up the radio a little bit to drown out the rain. He does it for you to ease your nerves. 

“You’re quiet.” He murmurs, his eyes still on the murky road in front of him. 

You can’t help but be quiet. He looks so fucking hot. As dim streaks of lightning skitter across the sky, you see the silver hairs in his mustache and beard. His rain-dampened curls are recoiling, fresh, and wavy. His thick neck was lined with strong veins and muscle.

“So are you.” You murmur back. 

His eyes catch you in sneaky glances. Your hair, pretty and dry since he shielded you in the bar’s parking lot. Dress half rumpled up your thighs, smooth skin of your legs exposed to his wandering pupils. 

The truck suddenly shifts, veering off the main road.  

“Woah,” you gasp, thinking the truck had slid at first. But Joel’s foot was still on the gas, cautiously guiding you off to a side road. You look around, covered by darkness and trees that shield your existence but do little to veil the obscene thoughts racing through your head. 

Joel finally throws the truck into a parked position, your eyes watching as his hand snaps the keys out of the ignition. 

He looks over at you expectantly. And you just deadpan. 

“Get over here." He says between gritted teeth, voice drenched in lust as he snaps off his seatbelt and then your own.

His large hands pull you in as soon as you’re free. You don’t waste another minute, straddling his lap and resting between him and his steering wheel.  

You clutch the collar of his dark green button-up, tugging him by his neck into your kiss. It’s messy and desperate, but you've wanted to taste him since dinner. His greedy hands are wrinkling your dress. The cold air tickles your warm thighs, and you whimper into his mouth. 

Joel’s kisses are rough but fluent; he speaks the language of your lips. You take a moment to admire how different the two of you are and how it feels like he’s the key to your lock. 

His warm palms slip up the front of your thighs as he kisses you, hasty and happy. He takes the hem of your dress with him. Joel is as warm as a furnace. He’s heating you from the inside out as your core begins to ache for him.

He pauses the kiss, large palm coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb traces along your lower lip. You take the time to catch your breath, feeling his own fog against the window next to you. 

“Not exactly the most romantic spot.” His eyes shift with lust-filled guilt. “M’sorry.” 

You work up a smile, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek and up his cheekbone. 

“It’s okay. We’re not romantic.” Your clarification feels like a lie. He doesn’t need to know that. 

The rain outside becomes blurred, and Joel’s looking through you again. Right through you. Your chest pounds under his watchful eyes. He sucks in the side of his cheeks, looks you up and down your face. 

Don’t lie to me. 

Don’t make me tell you the truth.

He decides to let you move on unscathed, your thighs clamping around his own with your knees at either side of his hips. His worry lines are stamped into his forehead as he looks over you cautiously. 

You break into a smile, unable to stand him looking at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Joel,” you whisper into his ear, soft lips giving his ear a kiss as your nose lightly brushes against his soft curls. Your voice drops to a whisper, sweet and divine. “Don’t make me beg, Mr. Miller.” 

Your lips suckle his earlobe and cast your tongue along the curve while his fingertips immediately dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. The sensation makes his cock twitch in his jeans. 

You smirk as you grind your hips into his lap, a suppressed grunt leaving his parted lips. He’s into it. “You like this, Mr. Miller?” Your words are murmured against the shell of his ear, teeth gently catching his earlobe and lightly tugging. 

Your words along with the rhythm of your hips over his lap have him in a tailspin. 

“Knock it off.” He warns, teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from his throat while he grips you at the waist to pause any movement. He looks so sexy snarling at you like this. Your hand reaches between you two, palming against his cock until you feel it swell into the heart of your hand. 

Joel is lazily planting kisses on the soft skin of your neck, he’s distracted by how good your hand feels. 

You take turns half undressing one another. Joel pushes your dress up to your waist and loops his index finger into the band of your panties. He guides them down with your assistance. You kick the material off your ankles and move to pop open each button of his long sleeve. He goes to shrug it off, but you smile and tighten your hold on the collar. 

“I like it on. Just wanna see your chest hair.” 

His mouth tilts into a crooked smirk.

“‘lright, then. Good to know.” He leans back in and places messy kisses on your exposed neck. You can feel how badly he wants to sink his teeth in, but you share the mutual rule of keeping those things below the collar. Out of sight, out of other people’s nosy minds. 

You struggle to admit that jimmying open his belt at this angle was pissing you off. You’re holding your breath until it clicks open, and you let out a sigh of relief. So does Joel. 

A gasp leaves your lips as Joel lifts the both of you up purely with the strength of his hips, a low grunt leaving his pouted lips as he pushes his jeans down to his knees, along with his boxers. You sit back down over him and feel his heavy shaft pressing against your slick center. His girth makes you whimper. 

The rhythm of the rain eases your racing heart. You take Joel’s pulsing member into your slightly shaky hand. 

“Nervous?” It’s not cocky or concerned, just curious. 

“M’not nervous.” You mutter, starting to pump his cock to get him to shut up. And it works. For a minute. 

His head falls back into the seat as he watches you in admiration, his own hand wandering between your spread legs and gliding two fingers through your slick. His forefinger grazes against your clit, and he has you whimpering again. 

“S’okay to be nervous.” His thumb slowly starts delicate circles into your bundle of nerves, and now he’s got your legs quivering. 

You’re chewing at the inside of your cheek, shifty eyes meeting his. You pace your words this time. “I’m not nervous, Joel.” You pull away from him to create a line of spit from your mouth, landing on his pink tip already drizzling in precum. You swallow your nerve and bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Not with you.” 

The mutual understanding links the two of you together, bound to the agreement in silence. You have a burning desire for one another. You’re scared, and he knows it. You push him to the limits, his heart beats for you. 

Steam fogs the windows of Joel’s truck. The rain dances a fine line between pounding and pouring to slow and subtle. 

Joel’s kisses lull you into a peaceful existence. You take off your dress, unable to stand anything between you and Joel. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you, your tits flush against his thick chest. 

You line him up by his base, Joel’s trying to hold himself still under you. You’re focusing hard, and he kisses your temple to ease your thoughts. He murmurs something, but you’re too busy concentrating. 

His pink tip meets your warm flesh, and his tip slowly parts your walls. He’s seething between his teeth, how tight you are washes pleasure over his face. He wants you to go slow. You don’t want him to go easy on you. You can’t help but let his name tumble from your lips in desperation. 

“Joel,” you whine, one hand clenching the fabric of his button-up by his shoulder while the other still weakly holds his base. 

“M’here, baby.”

He’s rubbing soothing circles in your hips with his forefingers, trying to distract you from the stretch he’s creating inside you. 

His breaths are coming out in hot puffs. The truck isn’t cold anymore, in fact, it’s only steaming up. 

“So- fuckin’- tight.” He murmurs, eyebrows knitted together as his jaw was dropped open. 

It was sharp at first, but the further you sank over him, the more you couldn’t contain yourself. As soon as his balls were flushed against your core, you were kissing him. Hot and heavy, desperate and needy, can’t get enough of each other sort of kisses. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you close while your fingers are delicately feeling up his chest and mazing through salt and pepper hair. 

You smirk lazily against his lips, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder. With this leverage, you start to roll your hips down onto his. Joel’s hands assist, squeezing your ass and guiding you smoothly up and down his shaft. You’re both moaning one another’s names, hazy eyes watching each other as long as they can before eventually drifting closed. 

You wished you weren’t fucking in his truck, your riding skills were a lot better than this, but if you try and pop up, your head will just smack into the roof. And he’ll make fun of you for as long as he knows you. 

“God- feel so good, Joel.” 

You’re panting already a few minutes in. You don’t want Joel to think you can’t do this, you don’t want his help. But your body is crammed in limited quarters, and you’re already sweating. 

He feels good. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of gentlemen. Thinking about him being with other women, maybe even women his age stirs a weird pit inside your stomach. 

One hand steadies itself on Joel’s forearm while the other gently clutches his cheek. You leave a messy moan against his ear. 

“Do you like fucking girls half your age, Mr. Miller?” You ask with a teasing smirk, messy kisses against his stubble and his ear ensuing. 

He’s grunting every time you throw yourself back into him, skin clapping against his thighs, his hands slipping from your hips to your ass and squeezing the juicy flesh. “-like fuckin’ you.” 

A low, extended groan leaves his lips as he holds your hips down, filling you full and having you sit with it. You throw your head back, and your eyes shudder closed with a loud moan occupying the truck. 

You tell yourself that you’re both just fuck happy. You can worry about the depth of Joel’s words later. He feels too good inside of you for the first time to give a shit.

Joel’s thrusts bring you back to life, hand landing against his window and leaving a print mark against the steamy glass. 

Joel senses your languid movements. He thinks you look pretty being fucked in his trunk during a thunderstorm. The darkness wraps the both of you up, only seeing flashes of each other’s features. He combs his large hand into your hair, catching your striking features with his hooded eyes. The slope of your nose. The curvature of your collarbones. Your pretty lips that he can’t stop staring at. 

Joel enjoys the control too much for you to be on top for a second longer. 

You collapse onto the truck’s long leather seat, lips parting in surprise as he maneuvers you to lie back without slipping from your entrance. 

“H-Holy fuck, Joel-” You’re breathless. 

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter as he flattens one of his large palms beside your head for leverage, hovering over you as he begins to methodically snap his hips into yours. Your desperate cries for more fill the truck. 

Both of you are horridly cursing, some in the form of whines and moans and others in the form of whispered grunts. 

Fuckin Christ-

Holy shit, Joel, please-

Feel so god damn good, princess-

Oh f- fuck me Joel, fuck me!

You’re already feeling the knots in your stomach tether tighter and tighter together, back arching as your chest brushes against his nose. 

Joel takes the opportunity and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. You know he tastes your glistening sweat, but the trail from his tongue makes you clench tighter around him. 

You catch Joel’s unfiltered groan in your mouth, his forehead resting against yours as his amber eyes grace yours. 

He’s close, you can see it in the way his features contort and his thrusts become more unpredictable. You had no idea he could fuck this good. 

Joel brings a hand up to your lips and offers you two fingers. You whimper but reluctantly take them past your mouth. You suckle and lather your tongue up and down each digit, it makes his cock twitch inside of you. 

He plucks his fingers free with a pop, a trail of spit extending from your bottom lip to your chin as he reaches between you both. 

Finding your swollen bundle of nerves doesn’t take him more than a second. You were so turned on it was almost painful. 

Joel’s tip sweetly kisses your cervix at this angle, and you are so close to spilling over. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into you as you share a messy kiss. You think about how scared you were to kiss him before, but now it makes you feel a sense of protection and safety. You wrap your arms around his neck, you need him close. 

“Joel,” you whimper, clenching your eyes closed and dropping your jaw as he finds the perfect rhythm circling your clit. 

“Can’t hear ya, baby,” He grunts into your ear. You can feel him tiredly smirking against your cheek, knowing he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to find the words. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, your legs clenching tighter at the sides of his hips. “M’on birth control, finish inside me,” you whisper against his ear. 

You can hear him let out a short, breathy chuckle against your ear. It only drives him more, knowing he can fill you up. 

“Y’sure, sweetheart?” 

“Want to?” 

His teeth are gritted as he growls into your ear. “Course I wanna fill your sweet cunt up.” 

It was hopeless after that. 

A crack of thunder and a strike of lightning conspire, your view of Joel illuminating his gorgeous face in a white-silver flash. 

The tight coils inside you snap free, a broken moan of his name being the last thing you remember saying before white stars filled your vision. Your hold on Joel loosens as your orgasm crashes through you ungracefully, making you twitch and rut your hips below him. 

His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop. He rides out your orgasm, following suit until he flushes his hips against yours and lets out a heavenly groan of your name. You’re still under him, vision blurry and hearing fuzzy. He finds solace in the crook of your neck, nuzzling a home for himself in the space and losing himself deep inside you. 

His body shudders lightly as he finishes, spilling white streams into you for who knows how long. Your hand is gently stroking the hair at the back of his head, fingers combing through dark curls as he breathes hot air against your neck. 

You both slowly blink back to life. He’s complimenting you, but you’re too blissed out to hear the details. 

So good, baby… Such a pretty fuckin’ girl... So lucky. 

Joel tuts softly as he attempts to free his softened length, but you whine and tighten your legs around his hips to keep him stationary. 

Your eyelashes flutter as you feel gentle kisses by the corners of your eyes, tiredly smiling as you open them before slowly sitting up onto your elbows. Joel takes the opportunity to pull out and yank his boxers and jeans back into place, securing his belt last. 

He still keeps his shirt unbuttoned for you, partially because you have a hold on a random corner to keep it so. 

With the absence of your pants hotboxing the truck, you slip back into your dress with a light shudder. You reach past Joel’s leg to retrieve your panties and pull them up your stems to keep his spillage to a minimum. 

“Good?” He asks, a smile slowly growing on your lips. He looked so fucked out. You both probably did. You attempt to fix Joel’s hair, and he takes his thumb to swipe away the saliva trail on your chin. 

“Good.” You agree. Quiet and sapped, but good. 

You force Joel to play a few games of tic-tac-toe on the foggy glass before the storms lighten up, and you can actually see more than a few feet in front of the road. 

You’re picking at the skin around your nails the entire drive home. So many questions compile in your worn-out brain. 

What if your parents noticed you were gone? What if they were awake, waiting for you by the kitchen window, and they see you slip out of Joel’s truck? Try explaining yourself after that one. 

As Joel pulls into his driveway, you observe the lake house is still dark and silent. Empty but also not. Joel’s warm palm is on your leg. It draws your attention away from the window, focusing just on him. 

“Joel?”

“Hm?” 

You shift your jaw before you lay your head back against the headrest, gentle pitter patters of the last rain cloud splashing on the window. 

“What do you do when you’re not working? Like on that Saturday when I talked to you at your truck.” 

He musters up a half-mouth smirk. “Didn’t do much talkin’ that I recall.” 

You roll your eyes and slam a closed fist against his shoulder. It barely rocks his arm, let alone his body. “M’serious.” 

He lets out a long sigh and looks out the windshield. “I do stuff around town or-  for the town.”

He’s so hard to push details out of. He’s like a jammed stapler. 

“Go on. So, like, volunteering?”

Joel rolls his eyes and shrugs. “S’not really like that.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just sort of starts smiling. “Just like keeping myself busy. But now I have you on my plate.” He teased. Your chest felt warm, knowing he kept a place for you in his hectic life. 

“What sort of stuff are you working on right now?” 

He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. You can hear it whistle before he lets it all out of his mouth, followed by clearing his throat. 

“Y’know that old church past that big field on the east side of Danbury?” 

You mindlessly shake your head and shrug. 

“When I was a kid, I used t’go to that church-”

“For God?” You can’t help but blurt it out in shock. 

He narrows his eyes on you and smirks.

“M’not exactly the Godly type.” You look over his chiseled jawline and beautiful, robust features. You’d have to disagree. He looked like one of God’s favorites. 

“So.. why are you trying to fix an old church?”

Joel slowly smiles, eyes mindlessly on the dashboard of his truck before he answers. “I have a thing for the broken, used, and abandoned.” 

Your head cocks to the side, and you give him a look, pressing him for an honest answer. Or maybe it was an honest answer, and you’re just looking for a better answer. 

He shuffles around in his seat before he continues, hand still aimlessly circling on your thigh. “It wasn’t operable when I was a kid, just rundown, abandoned. There used to be a stained glass mural on the-uh... east-facing wall. So when the sun came up through it, the whole place just- lit up.” He pauses and shifts his focus to you. 

“Now, y’know, it’s fallin’ apart. Dumb kids throwin’ rocks at it and chipping away the glass, age makin’ it all dust-covered.” Joel shrugs and falls back into his closed pit of secrecy. 

“So… you’re fixing up the town.”

A pause. “More or less.” 

“You know how to make a stained glass mural?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. But I can figure it out.” 

You twist your lips and slowly climb over his lap once more. His eyes watch you curiously while his hands settle on your hips. You cup either side of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing up against messy curls. 

“Can I see this mural you’re working on?” 

He takes a long time to answer. So much dead silence fills the truck you start to feel a bit awkward about asking, like maybe it was too far. 

“Please.” You ask or tell rather. You kiss his lips lightly to try and sway his pending decision. “I won’t judge, I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?” He instantly chirps, cocking an eyebrow up at you. 

“I didn’t say you were cool-”

“You most certainly did.” 

You’re shaking your head, and his pointer finger is prodding into your side to get under your skin. “I said that it’s cool. The stained glass stuff, that is what is cool.” 

He’s already sneering at you. “Whatever you say, princess.” You can feel your cheeks singe with heat. Your hand anxiously scrabbles for the door handle, letting the rusty door creak open for your exit.

Sneakers scrape gravel after you climb out of Joel’s lap, his boots landing suit. 

He smoothes a hand down your dress, your eyes watch before you face him. 

“You gonna be alright?” Joel's face is laced with slight concern, his head cocking past you and looking to the house. 

You shrug and shake your head. “Yeah. We’ve had this fight before, and we’ll have it again.” 

He doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. He’s teetering on his heels as a stray raindrop lands on your cheek. 

“You can..” He trails off as his thumb comes up and brushes away the droplet, hand lingering before he cups your cheek. “Y’know, can always stay with us if you need a break. M’sure Sarah would love the company.” And so would he. 

Your eyes soften, the gesture warm and safe. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble you’d stir up at Joel’s house. Sure, you could occupy yourself with Sarah when she returned from camping, but what would you and Joel do? Well, besides the obvious…

Your lips curl into a tight smile, not wanting him to reel in his invite out of pure bashfulness. 

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Your eyes are on his until he sighs, his shoulders reset into that of a broad lumberjack once more. His eyes looked like they were scheming. It’s fast, like a flash, and before you know it, the look is gone. 

“Take care of yourself.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the crown of your head, thumb skimming up the line of your cheekbone. Suddenly, your heart is racing again. 

You cup his cheeks and pull him down for a real goodbye kiss, two sets of pouted lips against one another, unwilling to let go until you have to. 

---

“What are you doing after work?” You’re on a call with Joel, phone pressed between your ear and hunched shoulder. 

“What are you wearing right now?” He taunts, voice crackling in and out of connection since he was currently working at a house out of town. 

“Ha.” You deadpan, closing the sliding glass door behind you as you step back into the empty lake house, skin sweltering from being in the sun for the better half of the afternoon reading on the dock. “No, really, I could use your help.”

The phone volume shrills in your ear as you hear an electric saw roar to life, Joel cursing repeatedly as he walks away from all the noise.  “Jesus fuckin-.. so damn lou- Can you hear me better?” 

Once the saw dulled, you put the phone back to your ear.  “Yeah.”

“What do you need help with?” His voice sounds a little preoccupied like he’s trying to focus on you, but he’s got a million things running through his head. 

“My window.” You say with a frown, stepping into your bedroom and cursing at the sight of it. “Won’t open. Maybe you can crack it open with some of your handy dandy tools.”

You smile as he musters up a little laugh at your hardware knowledge or lack thereof. “I don’t know about today, baby.” 

“You are the property maintenance guy for our lakehouse now, right? You have a duty to help me.” You tease, stepping back outside with a fresh bottle of water and an apple. Your teeth pierce the skin, and the apple’s juices gush past your lips. 

“Jesus, fine. I’ll be over. I’m almost done.”

You purse your lips to hide your smirk. God, he can’t even see you, but you don’t want him to know he’s got you flustered. 

“Parents are running errands today... If that’s extra incentive for you to hurry up.” 

Joel pauses on the other end. He’s probably got that stupid smirk on his face. “In that case, I’ll leave now.”

“I knew you’d see things my way. Thank youuu.” You playfully coo. 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

An hour later, Joel’s outside your window while you assist from the inside. His face is twisted in concentration, eyes narrowed on a misaligned hinge that he works free with a screwdriver, realigns, then screws tight into its proper place. 

He looks stupid hot so focused like this. Tanned skin, hair a little dusty from work. The veins in his forearm were bulging as he uses pressure to keep the hinge in place. You had to blink a few times to keep yourself from staring. He feels it. 

“Can I help you?” His voice was thick and echoing since he was speaking to you between a glass pane. 

You bite back a smirk and shake your head. 

He pulls off the hinge and nods, pats it a few times before looking at you and giving you a thumbs up. 

You decide to let him come inside before you open the window yourself, twisting at the string of your bikini bottom as you wait. He took in your appearance as soon as he parked in the driveway. 

“What?”

“...Nothin’. Like the outfit.”

“Joel, I was sunbathing. And reading. It wasn’t an intended distraction.” It was. 

“Mhm.”

Joel appears at the entrance of your bedroom. You silently curse yourself for not updating it more. It still looked like a sixteen-year-old fangirl lived in it. 

He appreciates the posters and magazines, checking his handiwork at the window. 

“Wanna give it a go? Open it?” 

You eagerly smile and step up to the window, playfully tugging on it and heaving. 

“I-.. It’s still stuck.” You say with a frown. “Joel, you said you fixed it.”

“What? Shouldn’t be-” He’s already got his hands on the frame and tugs, feeling it easily slip up and open. You’re giggling as his face deadpans. 

“You think you’re so funny.” He taunts, his body turning towards you as he chucks his tools haphazardly on your bed. You’re already attempting to take leaps and bounds away from Joel, but his arms are long, and so are his strides. 

His rough hands capture you by your waist, dusty and calloused fingers ghosting over your warm skin. 

Joel’s lips eagerly greet yours, both of you grinning into the kiss. It’s slow as you let it envelop you. Your heart races. He’s not supposed to be here, your parents could come home any time now.  

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he backs you up against your wall, foreheads gently pressed together. His eyes flick behind you, and your head follows his gaze. 

“Boybands, huh?”

You roll your eyes and smirk, fingers moving to the button of his jeans. 

“Shut up, Joel. Leave the boybands out of it.” 

A car door slamming catches both of your attention. Heads whip on instinct, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your parents are home, and Joel’s half-hard in your palm. 

“Oh, shit.” You curse. 

Joel’s already moving, grabbing his tools off your bed, and adjusting his jeans. “Lemme handle it.” Your heart pounds as you and Joel greet your parents at the door. They walk in with fresh shopping bags. A cheesy sign for the living room sticks out from one of them. 

“Joel?” They both ask in unison, looking between the man beside you and you in your bikini. Your mother’s face lightly flushes. 

“Hey, Joel! Good to see ya!” Your father sets the bags on the table and grabs a beer from the fridge. You shift on your feet and just let Joel lead. 

Your dad’s oblivious, your mother is more curious

. 

“What are you... What are you doing here?” She tries to ask casually with a little smile. 

Joel raises his screwdriver, strategically keeping the toolbag in front of his lower half. You try not to smirk. 

“Was fixin’ your daughter’s jammed window.”

Your mother's face softens before she smiles. “Y’know, that thing has been jammed for… years. Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The light glare he sends you means you’ll pay for that one later. Joel clears his throat and nods, too. He turns to you now, and you share a look. 

“Just… let me know if it happens again. Might need to replace the hinge entirely. Small piece of it could be broken, might be why it keeps slippin’ out of place.”

“Yeah. For sure. Thanks.” 

You walk past your mother and open the door from him, but he still stands between your parents. What the hell is he doing?

“While I have you both, I was just tellin’ your daughter ‘bout a business trip I have comin’ up.” Huh? “ It’s not for Miller Contracting. It’s more for the town. I’m gettin’ materials for the old church-”

“Oh, the one with the broken stained glass mural on the east side of town?” Your mother chirps in. “We just drove past it. Just saying how someone needs to fix it up.” Joel’s lightly nodding to your mother’s words, her face soft as she listens to him with curiosity. 

“Well, I was tellin’ her about it ‘cause I could use some help getting materials from a supplier in Houston. I’d normally ask Sarah to tag along and help, but she said she’s got some graduation parties next weekend that she doesn’t wanna miss. Would it be alright if-”

“Oh, of course! Yes, please, if you need her help and she wants to go, she’s all yours.” 

Your eyes are wide, trying not to seem too shocked by Joel secretly sweeping you out from under your parents without them even noticing. 

Joel turns to you, eyebrow cocked.  “That okay with you? Next weekend. Friday to Sunday sort’f thing.” 

A whole weekend alone with Joel? Your insides are bursting, but you have to seem apathetic. 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

Joel sneaks you a private smile. “Really appreciate it. Ya’ll have a good rest of your evenin’.” And with that, he’s out the front door. 

You couldn’t believe what just happened. 

You try to act casual before you make it off to your room, but your mother’s voice pulls you to a halt. 

“Ah-ah, not so fast. Back it up.”

You quietly sigh before coming back to the main part of the kitchen. She narrows her eyes on you and lightly crosses her arms. Your fight with her from yesterday is still fresh, and it makes holding prolonged eye contact difficult. 

“Are you seeing a boy?”

Your eyes widen on instinct. Your dad pauses the sip of his beer and watches you carefully. You try to hold together a poker face as best as you can, but you’re worried your shock is already seeping through. 

“Wha- A boy? Why would you think that?” The laugh you force out sounds too fake. And you’re a terrible liar.  You feel so hot all of a sudden. You wished Joel was still here to talk you in and out of shit. It was a skill of his you’d surely have to learn. 

“Well, we heard the door close really late last night after you walked Joel out. We were just wondering if... You know, there’s a special someone that you’re seeing.” Of course, she hoped you would tie yourself down to someone in Texas. 

“Yeah, did a boy pick you up after dinner or somethin’?” Your father presses, eyes narrowing protectively over you. “You seein’ a boy or not, honey?”

You didn’t want to lie, but you certainly weren’t ready to tell them the truth about you and Joel. 

“Uhm.” Your brain scrabbles for an answer and ultimately chooses poorly. “Sorta. I don’t know. Kind of?” 

Your mother tightens her lips in a smile and nods a little. “We’ll let it go for now, but-”

“God- Mom, please.” You groan and put your face in your hands, closing your eyes and wishing this nightmare was over. 

“But,” she annoyingly emphasizes, “If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.” She says with a firm nod before turning back to your father and putting away the items in their shopping bags. 

Meet him? They want to meet the boy you’re seeing? What will they do when they find out the boy is actually a full-grown man, a forty-something-year-old with a teenage daughter? And that man was not only their friend and neighbor but Joel fucking Miller. Fuck. Your luck was running out. 

---

here's my masterlist!

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[majorproblems77]

Hello LU fans! I'm back with another LU update analysis! :D

Are you ready cause there's so much to unpack I'm gonna be here a while. Like last time I'm gonna put a timer on lmao, see how long this takes me.

As always grab your popcorn and drink of choice, cause we need hydration in this life.

all art belongs to @linkeduniverse and Jojo, and if I pull panels from any other pages I'll let you know where it's from! :D

Obviously spoilers for Dawn 8 :D

And a note, I've not played TP or WW, you'll see why thats important later.

Let us begin, shall we!

Man, Poor wild, he's probably beating himself up like there's no tomorrow right now. He looks HORIFIED.

Probably because in technicality, he failed.

I love how he's holding his sword here too. Kinda acting as a shield to the conversation.

Same expression as wild. He also looks horrified. Infact the resemblance between these two in uncanny.

Man time really is the dad isnt he. Unimpressed dad look at 12'oclock. Jokes aside he doesn't look angry about it. He looks like he now gathering information from those who finished the fight. As we know once he left with Twilight he was the only other one to not make it back to the fight.

Thats a fair sentence, thinking about it, I think the only other game where Iron Knuckles appear is in one of Hyrule's games? I'm surprised he's not mentioned anything about it.

Most of the others do have armoured enemies though. So while the others dont have direct experience I assume they have the basics.

All but, Sky and Wars None of them fight armoured enemies like that in their games.

I assume because he's defeated this thing like it was a guardian (Stasis and then wailing on it cause that's what i would do lmao) He assumed it was defeated when it exploded into pieces. Like guardians are prone to do. tbh he was probably gonna go back to look for loot at some point.

You tell them Wind. The small hero, underestimated by everyone BUT Time. Was correct thank you.

Justice for the windy boy.

God Wild really is beating himself up about this. I love the fact that we see four's reaction to this statement. As to be honest. Over the last few nights, Four and Wild have had plenty of bonding moments. These guys are gonna become best friends.

And now we get Time.

The way he's looking over these panels. That look. He know's he's the leader of this group but something that Time isn't used to is making Permanent mistakes.

He has the Ocarina of Time, and when he was back in Termina every time something went wrong he could just play the song of Time and restart the three-day cycle with no trouble at all.

Time, as a person. Isnt technically used to failing.

This panel is stunning. It's what I assume is going on inside his head. It's so pretty. It's so detailed it's just oh man easily one of my favourite panels.

now you know i had to talk about panels with my beloved blorbo in.

first off he's so pretty. Jojo has really outdone herself with just how amazing these updates have looked. The lighting the shading its all just so incredible.

The first half of this panel with Sky's face. He, He is beating himself up about the injury. He had nothing to do with it but he cares so much about the rest of the group he feels bad. He kinda looks like he's thinking about it. Like he can see it. Like time did but we dont see inside Sky's head.

Makes me think about what exactly he saw.

And Twilight's face, he looks so sad. His little pout. Poor wolf boy, which we can now call you properly as the rest of them know now.

And to be honest I'm glad he's standing his ground. Mr, My injury isn't that bad before falling over. the stubborn ranch hand strikes again.

The parallels from this frame and the one from later have been mentioned elsewhere but I'm just gonna post the frame here as it's turned up. Run you coward lizard. Run.

Captain link is back. Poor warriors, he's still showing signs of being stressed. He's one of the only one's who hasn't been able to rest over the downtime that they've had. He's been busy being in charge of the group while Time was out.

I can only assume it's only a matter of time before this comes back to get him. Maybe he is next on the chopping block? (Pun kinda intended) Something could happen and he messes up and gets hurt of causes someone to get hurt.

oh and also

THE SCARF

THE SCARF THE SCARF

IT HAS RETURNED ALL HAIL THE BLUE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLANKET WARRIORS NEEDED YOU.

None of us did, Hyrule.

The boys ever, I'm glad they are talking about this like this. And that it's legend who's starting to throw ideas out there like this. As the one who's got the most experience in the group, it makes sense that he would be the one to start offering ideas as to Why not just how.

Because you pissed it off Sky. Because half of you pissed it off. In fact I do believe he had a bunch of panels in Shifting Shadows pt2 where you indeed pissed it off.

The entire reason it started running from you and Twilight had to track it was because of FI's reaction to his sword.

Wait... that explains the guilt. It is actually potentially Sky's fault. Or if he's anything like I think he is. He remembers that fight with the shadow and knows.

He knows.

Also, with clenched fist Sky is ready for a fight. Next time the shadow turns up I assume he's gonna go after it when it's inevitablebly goes after Twilight/Wild. Maybe he'll jump in after being told not too because the Master sword appears to be the only thing as of right now that can fight the red stuff that comes off the shadows sword.

did you hear Warriors shiver? I did.

And you'd know all about that wouldn't you Four. :D

Also

Mandatory Sky appreciation picture

Him's my beloved blorbo. He's wonderful. Such a lil guy. Bestest bean. My beloved. /pl

Anyway moving on

Oh yeah, the amount of power that the items list contains We've seen the arsenal that they have between them (in the December art).

We saw what just Time could do.

Now add the rest of them and the enemies dont stand a chance. They've just gotta figure out how to either avoid the weapons of each other or work as a team with the arsenal in hand to fight better.

Like imagine if Twilight used his gale boomerang to send Wild into the air.

(Writer brain go brr, gonna write that down)

It's basically Revalis Gale.

This man is so damn dramatic I love him

And here's the parallel frame

the shadow running towards Warriors vs running away from Twilight.

You know thinking about it... Shadow didn't shapeshift until Twilight did. The push towards Warriors was when shadow thought they were on level footing.

But when Twilight went after Dink, he was the one who had to flee because he lost his advantage.

ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY ANGRY SKY

The man is pissed that Shadow hurt Twilight. He is so damn mad and I think that he is saying what he would assume Fi would. (With more emotion because well, Fi)

Also that last frame.

TIME AND SKY ANGST ON THE HORIZON?

time is looking towards the master sword. And he looks angry. This will absolutely have gone unnoticed by the others because if they saw he was angry it was probably just because of the conversation topic.

god I love the dynamic here and I'm excited to see if it goes anywhere

Him's I love his simple way of agreeing its wonderful.

I approve to wind let's go blow some stuff up!

Hyrule shows the group why he is called the traveller. The man just wants to go on his adventures let him go!

Sky is so proud of himself

this face says 'Look guys I didn't give it to the weird toilet hand! :D'

I love this man a healthy amount.

One last thing before I go

I love this update as a whole, seeing the group gear up and getting to see the layers of the armour and straps and fastenings being put on while they are having this discussion is amazing.

I'd give you a collection of pictures but Tumblr is being rude and I can't post more than 30. So you can have these as all four panels show what I'm talking about.

Twilight adjusting his gauntlets warriors adjusting his scarf.

Hyrule attaching his shield to his back and putting his sword strap on.

God, I love this update so much. It was amazing and I very much enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! :D

Thank you as ever for reading my rambles i appreciate you :D

Have a wonderful day and dont forget to hydrate! See you next time!

[stellaluna33]

Sorry to be a hater- look away if you must- but I just have to vent once again about how much I hate that stupid "Rory Gilmore learns about sexting to spice up her lagging long-distance relationship!" storyline in Season 7. 🙄 Like, FIRST OF ALL, I'm supposed to believe that Rory Gilmore, who was reading (and recommending!) Ginsberg at the age of 16, is somehow shocked and scandalized and uncomfortable with the idea of reading or writing about sex?? That whole babyish, fluttery, "Oh, I couldn't possibly!" personality transplant she undergoes in that season really throws me off! But ALSO, like... Rory and Logan have only been apart for like THREE EPISODES? By this point? And she's already feeling like their relationship is going to fall apart without sexual intimacy? Like, honey, the point I'm getting from this is not "long distance relationships are hard!" It's "this relationship seems to be based on nothing but sex." And if you're already running out of things to say because you're not in the same room anymore? Yikes. "But long distance relationships are hard!" Yeah! I KNOW. Want to know HOW I know? Because by the time we got married, my Husband and I did the math and figured out that from the beginning of our relationship to our wedding day we'd spent more time APART than TOGETHER. The longest stretch of time where we were on opposite sides of the earth and didn't see each other at all was ten months. And yes! It was hard! But we never felt like we were running out of things to SAY to each other or had no emotional intimacy! How am I supposed to think this Rory/Logan storyline is "romantic" when my own memories involve writing handwritten letters that were pages and pages long, and long emails on top of that? Sensual poetry that ached with so much longing that it made my breath catch in my throat when I read it? Do you know how it feels to talk on the phone for hours and hours until your arm gets tired from holding the phone up and you have to keep switching it from side to side because your ear is getting that horrible warm and sweaty feeling from the plastic being pressed against it for so long, and you STILL don't want to say goodbye because it's never enough? Anyway, I can't get into this storyline. It feels shallow and cheap and boring to me! Like, is this it? And maybe part of the reason my soul recoils from the idea of Rory ending up with Logan is that it's just so DISAPPOINTING! Like, that's it? That's the "great love" she gets? I love Rory and she has such a lively, eager mind! And it just makes me sad to think of her ending up with some guy she doesn't even have anything to talk about with after the thrill of sex has faded. 😕 Boring, boring, boring!

[david-talks-sw]

Since people were talking about it recently: is there any official reason given of why Padme forgave Anakin immediatly after the Tusken Raider massacre? I always see a lot of diferent reasons given on the internet, from long and deep analises of theirs characters to "the writers didn't think about it".

Okay, folks (or single person who messaged me three times) I'm finally talking about this XD !

I got no official answer.

That said, here's a few points that I do think merit consideration, and I haven't really seen them mentioned anywhere.

1. Anakin is more regretful in the script.

If you look at how the scene is portrayed in the Attack of the Clones July 2001 draft of the screenplay, in Scene 118, pages 83-84...

... he's sorry and ashamed. He is in absolute shock of what he did. We get a bit of this, in the film...

... but in the script it's much more explicit. It starts out with him lashing out at Obi-Wan, at his own lack of power, but it ends with him breaking down and just apologizing over and over.

He didn't just kill them, he went Wolverine-style berseker and murdered EVERYTHING in his path, and he's thinking back on it with a clear-ish head now and realizing the gravity of his monstrous act.

When it's on paper, it reads very differently, to me. He's more remorseful, so Padmé's reaction makes more sense.

But there's a big difference between what you write in a script and what comes out in the film. Once you're shooting, myriad other factors come into play. So Anakin's dialog changes as the delivery and the rhythm are narrowed down, the beats in the scene shift around... but Padmé's reaction stays the same.

And that's where you get the disconnect.

Because what sticks with the audience more is this moment, now.

The anger. Not the shock and remorse.

So why the change? Well, George Lucas had this to say:

"He's very unhappy about that. Very sad and depressed. There was some dialogue here before that I took out, because it seemed to get in the way of the emotional moment of this scene where she says, "To be angry is to be human," and he says, "But to control your anger is to be a Jedi." And so that issue was actually laid out in dialogue at one point, and I decided to pull back from it... because it seemed to me that it was pretty obvious that was what was there. And I didn't think I needed to state it quite as boldly as I did. And that issue will come up at a later time, and I just felt it took away from the moment of his sadness. And I thought the sadness pretty much said the same thing without words." - AotC, Commentary Track #2, 2002

The reasoning was: too much dialog takes away from emotion.

An audience member will have a stronger emotional reaction from Anakin crying than Anakin crying while screaming "woe is me!"

I get (and generally agree) with the reasoning. But, personally, I have mixed feelings about this particular artistic choice.

On the one hand... if the intent is to show that Anakin made a big mistake and is sorry and sad because of his actions, then I think it's safe to say that it's not what most people took away.

Which then leads to things like John Ostrander writing Anakin as thinking he'd kill them all over again.

Also, it makes the viewer question the wisdom of Padmé's judgment.

But on the other hand... whether Anakin was feeling apologetic or not, he still did it. He still effectively massacred a whole tribe, he made that choice.

And whether the intent in that specific scene is conveyed efficiently or not, Anakin's character flaws (which the Prequels are really about) aren't really impacted and still tie together perfectly.

The only real change to that scene is that Padmé goes from having a more understandable reaction to "missing a lot of red flags".

2. Padmé thinks she can fix Anakin.

Here's what Natalie Portman had to say on the scene, which I think is an interesting take.

"She's this very powerful woman, and I think Padmé is sort of intrigued by this darker side she sees to him, especially because she's such a person who tries to fix everything. She sees problems in the world and she still has that idealistic passion… to think she can change everything, and she can change people who have darkness to them. And she sees goodness in him. She sees this passion. And she sees that there's a lot of anger in that passion, that it's not just the goodness and purity of her passion. So I think that is definitely attractive for her- that there's something that she can try and help heal or mend. That might be a big surprise for her when she can't." - Natalie Portman, AotC, Commentary Track #2, 2002

A part of Padmé is intrigued by Anakin's darker side, the "handsome bad boy" part... but that's coming from a place of "I can change him".

But the only thing that can change Anakin... is Anakin himself. Unfortunately, he keeps:

indulging his darker selfish impulses because he lacks discipline, acting on emotion despite knowing better,

regretting it for a moment and acknowledging that it was wrong,

starting again, never learning from his mistakes.

Which is part of the reason why their relationship is sort of doomed from the get-go.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I remember you mentioning A court of Thorns and roses in your posts once when talking about malleus character archetype. Have you read acotar series? If so I really want to know what you think about it. Your post is how I found out this series. It's pretty meh 😕 to me but I would really like to read your thoughts on it 😊. Also are non twst related ask allowed? If not I'm truly sorry😥. You can just ignore this ask

Oh god 😅 That was such a long time ago that I can’t even locate the original post where I made that comment…

To summarize what I said then, I had expressed that the way Malleus is presented to us reminds me of the bad boy supernatural love interests in romantasy novels.I believe the online book community colloquially refers to these characters as “Shadow Daddies” and I find that hilarious. To clarify, I do NOT mean to say that Malleus is Yuu’s “canon” love interest or anything like that. When I say that Malleus is “like” a Shadow Daddy, it’s just in the tropes they share. (For example, being overpowered, brooding, and misunderstood as a “bad guy” when, in actuality, he has a heart of gold and is just lonely.)

… I’ve actually seen multiple posts comparing Malleus and Rhysand, if you can believe that 💀

The rest of my response isn’t really TWST related, so I’ll put it under the cut for ya ^^ I tried to keep my thoughts concise and free of spoilers.

But to your question! Yes, I actually have read the first three books of ACOTAR but not the novella (A Court of Frost and Starlight) or the sequel, A Court of Silver Flames. I got into the series because it was highly recommended within its genre, but I came out of it really disappointed. I continued reading hoping that it would get better, but it really did not.

Maas has this really melodramatic and yet simultaneously juvenile way of writing dialogue that does not mesh well with what I’m looking for in a romantasy read. She’ll have characters give exposition or speeches that go on for like 10 pages straight and also have supposedly wise ancient fae cracking potty jokes like a middle schooler trying to impress their friends. It makes the books a lot longer than they have to be. In actuality, the plot involves a lot of running around and having all the right questions answered by conveniently placed chess pieces. I also did not enjoy the vague world building (like several side characters are never given proper names and instead are always referred to by title) and the near-constant mention of mating bonds. What I did like was how Maas wrote action scenes and descriptions (even if they often veer into purple prose). She also comes up with some unique concepts—but the execution of those concepts isn’t great, so the ideas are left sort of shallow and floating there waiting to be fully realized.

Romantasy and fairy tale retellings are some of my favorite things to read, so I was sad that I didn’t think that highly of this beloved series. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book I’ve been able to seriously get immersed in 😔 ACOTAR’s explosive popularity has led to many other authors trying to replicate Maas’s success, which has flooded the market with horni fae books and even similar titles (“A [noun] of [nouns] and [nouns]”). (And as someone who does NOT find Malleus attractive at all, you can imagine I’m not thrilled.) I have really mixed feelings about that… While of course I don’t mind if people enjoy ACOTAR or ACOTAR-adjacent books, I dislike that it makes up the bulk of what is marketed to me. It makes it a lot harder to find something that’s more suited to my tastes.

If anyone seeing this post is interested in trying out ACOTAR, I caution you that it is a “new adult” book, meaning it is intended for older teens (I would recommend 18+, honestly). There is a lot of violence and… explicit intimate scenes… in the series.

[sc0tters]

Better Off Apart | Luke Hughes

summary: the long awaited day has finally come! Luke is in New York and the Devils are set to play the islanders, but now a third person as slotted themselves into your love equation.

request: yes/no

warnings: this became a bit of a sad chapter, Luke is a boy who doesn’t know how to process his emotions, Mat gets jealous and also doesn’t know how to handle that. The reader is finally in a position where she’s reader to move on.

word count: 1.76k

authors note: I wrote this in an hour I was so excited. I saw that in some requests you guys actually wanted the mc of this to get with a player from the team but I sort of put my twist on that. The rest of the full length chapters for this story have been planned out but I think it could be cool doing a few blurbs for these two, so if you want to see anything in those let me know!

previous part | next part

It had been circled in red pen.

The date on your calendar had been marked the moment you got the NHL calendar announcement.

It was the date that you had been counting the sleeps down to like a child counting down the sleeps till Christmas.

It was the date that you felt so excited for but were also so nervous for that you wanted to go to the top of the Empire State Building and scream.

It's the date that the Devils were coming to town to play the Islanders.

It's the date that you were going to finally see Luke again.

You knew that you shouldn't have been excited, shouldn't have let your grow full and your palms grow sweaty at the thought of seeing him again.

All of your efforts to forget about him were now nonexistent as you spent moments every day staring at his social media's.

After a drunk night out with friends you unblocked and unrestricted everything that had to do with him, when you woke up much more sober you simply couldn't find it in your heart to or in your head to shut him out anyone.

A few nights ago whilst being sat in front of the tv with a meal from your favourite restaurant, you did something you never thought you would.

You wrote Luke a letter.

Just like you had for each of his teammates.

So you sat and you wrote, making sure to mention everything from how you felt to why you left. Writing that letter was better than any type of therapist as it had brought up things that you had seemed to compartmentalise. There were seven different editions of this letter.

The first two had to be rewritten because you zoned out and came back to see that your tears had soaked the pages.

The next three had you swearing like a sailor as you told him to fuck himself for making you fall so deeply in love with him.

The sixth letter just didn't feel right. You assumed that it was the lack of sleep that was getting to you, so like any mature adult you got up and went to bed deciding that the letter writing efforts would continue the next day.

The seventh and final letter was perfect, you were honestly tempted to email it to your high school English teacher you were that proud of it. It was the perfect way to tell Luke that you were okay that this was goodbye and that you didn't hold anything against him for how he treated you.

Yes you told him that he had hurt you but it helped teach you that some loves just simply weren't worth it.

It was like you had been put through the grieving cycle over the last fifteen hours as you learnt to accept that Luke just wasn't on your cards and that it was probably for the best.

Mat hadn't slipped up from his role of your new best friend, if there wasn't a game on Thursday you two would go get dinner and then sit at his apartment playing card games until the early hours of the morning.

The Canadian had quickly learnt why you were so popular in New Jersey amongst the players and it was one of the things that he was actually so attracted to.

Yes Mat found himself growing more enamoured with you by the day and despite his best efforts you never seemed to notice it.

You never noticed how his eyes lingered on you far longer than appropriate for just friends, or how he'd glare down every man and woman who dared to even look at you when the two of you were out in the town. You never noticed the way you squeezed the life out of his heart the moment you came to Mat's apartment in tears one night as you missed Luke.

The Canadian was hurt, it wasn't even the fact that you weren't interested in him that haunted his thoughts at night. It was the fact that you gave your love to someone who was so cruel to you.

But Mat put on a comforting smile each time he was forced to listen to you spill your heart out on his sleeve as you couldn't get over your failed attempts to get over the Hughes boy.

At one point the Islander player was ready to rip the bandaid off and tell you everything.

He wanted you to know that you were loved.

He wanted you to know that you were wanted and it was by a man who was sat right next to you.

But deep down inside Mat knew that those words would mean nothing to you unless they came from the Hughes boy.

That was the thing about love that was so cruel. Here were two people that wanted nothing more than to be happy. But the reciprocation of those emotions from the people they craved them from the most weren't there.

Yes you loved Mat but you weren't in love with Mat and that different meant everything to him.

So he kept his feelings to himself as he watched you count down the days until the Devils came to town.

He sat there dreading the moment he had to face Luke on the ice, Mat had been watching the meditation videos that you had sent him on repeat as he tried to memorise the various methods of calming himself down that he’d had to use in other to not hit Luke.

It wasn’t because Mat wanted to protect the boy, in fact he wanted to do the opposite. He wanted to hurt Luke for all that he had done to you. The Islanders player wanted to see the Hughes boy finally feel some sort of remorse, but he knew that if he laid a finger on Luke you’d get upset. So he was going to have to try to behave.

You woke up practically running out of bed ready to take on the world when the day finally arrived. Part of you was excited to see your friends from the team too and that’s what you told yourself made you so happy.

Luke swore he was going to throw up when he got on the team bus. Sure he was excited to see you in the flesh once more. But after seeing how the every gossip account swore that you and Mat were dating after someone spotted you on another on of your excursions, hope for him was running out. So he spent the last week forcing himself to accept that fact that this was all his fault. Yes he wanted to blame Mat instead but he knew he couldn’t.

If Luke couldn’t be the one to love you then he then simply hoped that the man who loved you, loved you even half as much as he did.

The young Hughes boy felt trapped inside of his mind as he had yet to reveal how he felt about you to anyone. It was partially due to the fact that he knew they’d all laugh at him especially after how he treated you. Yet there was another much larger part of Luke that didn’t want to admit it because one he admitted that he did indeed like you, it meant that it would really be real. At least for now he could act like you were all just simply a figment his dreams and hopes for in the future. He told himself that all he needed as a simply protein shake and his usual pregame playlist blasting through his headphones at a volume that was enough to make his mother cringe as she reminded her son that she didn’t want him going deaf.

Jack noticed the way that his younger brother had gone quiet since he stepped on the bus, the whole team did. As bad as they all knew it sounded none of them bothered checking in on the boy as they all just put it down to him not wanting to see you again.

If only they knew, right?

The youngest Hughes boy knew your routine on game days from your time with the Devils. It was something that he made an effort to learn early on in his attempts to avoid you.

He hoped that you had the same routes mapped out here because Luke knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he caught sight of you.

Now more than ever though it was because he knew he’d start crying on the spot.

Luke wasn’t a crier naturally but he had no clue how he was going to say his apology to you. All of the emotions that you made him feel just made him want to cry due to the sheer panic that was going through his mind.

As the team walked out of the away locker room he heard it.

The sound he had grown to miss.

The sound that brought him this warm sense of comfort in his stomach that he could only describe as funny.

It was the sound of your laugh.

Mat had been telling you a story as you two made your way over to the home dressing room as you had forgotten your folder in there when you took some guests around earlier.

As Luke saw the sight of you it was enough to knock him off of his feet as Jack walked into the back of him “dude,” the middle Hughes boy groaned as he lifted his brother off of the ground totally unaware of the fact that you were stood there.

It was like time stopped for the youngest Hughes boy.

He watched as your eyes locked with his and your lips formed a smile as you sent him a nod.

Mat had seen how you had stopped listening to his story were just simply looking in front of you.

It made the Canadian angry as in that moment he wanted to throw out all of those stupid meditation lessons.

He knew his next move was childish but he didn’t care he sent Luke a harsh glare as Mat threw his arm around your shoulders.

That moment dropped Luke back into reality as he felt like he had just hit a cement wall.

“Luke c’mon!”

There was a game to be played but it seemed that it was quickly coming off of the ice as well.

And you were right in the center of it,

But you didn’t even know it.

[digitaldiarystuff]

Bad Liar pt.4

note: after this we’re starting a best friend series and if you don’t suggest a name i will be sad🥺

————

summary: you are in a long time situationship with pedri and you’re falling more and more everyday hoping he feels the same

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

genre: angst/ fluff

————

You spent your night after Pedri left crying. You couldn’t even fathom how this night turned out and felt angry all over again. You felt angry at Mateo for being out of his mind drunk, you felt angry at Pedri for breaking into your apartment making you think he was finally going to say the words you long to hear but most of all you were angry at yourself because you knew if he said those three words you would’ve caved immediately.

Your love for him never ended and combined with your anger, it was like the invisible string tying you together was strengthening every day. You also hated seeing him in this state, but there wasn’t anything you could do. You asked him, begged him to tell you he loved you and all would be alright you would’ve healed him shower him with love but he couldn’t. He was an immature person who didn’t know what he wanted. Your pity party was cut short when you heard knocks on your door, it was around 3 in the morning and you couldn’t think of anyone stopping by at this hour.

You slowly made your way to the door and opened it, revealing a distraught Gavi standing. You tried shutting the door to his face but he prevented you from it by putting his feet inside.

“What do you want?” you bluntly asked. Even though it was natural for him to send your story to Pedri, you were still mad.

“Look Y/N I know you’re upset but I need to talk to you.”

You said nothing but opened the door so he could come in.

“First of all, I’m sorry I ruined your night, I didn’t know he would try to come here I just” he sighed “He’s my best friend and I felt like he needed to know.”

You both sat down on the couch facing each other. When you didn’t say a thing, he continued.

“And you have every reason to kick me out and yell but I need you to understand what this is doing to him.”

“To him? Are you serious right now? I’m shattered beyond repair and you wanted me to pity him?” you asked getting angry.

“No that’s not what I meant”

“He lied to me, manipulated me and used me for months and you all knew! Do you know what I felt when I saw his girlfriend’s story Pablo? Do you know how I felt when I asked him to tell me he loves me and he couldn’t? Do you know if even after everything I would’ve ran back to him?” you listed things Pedri did to hurt you and the list was many pages long.

“I know I know I’m sorry for not telling you but also, you know it was hard for him.”

Your expression was puzzled so he continued.

“To tell someone he loves them. You’re the first person he’s ever fallen for.”

Your mind went blank and Pablo could see it.

“What do you mean?”

“You know he’s never fallen in love before you.” he said but soon realized he fucked up. “I mean, you knew that didn’t you he told me he was going to tell you today.”

“Pablo I don’t have time if you’re trying to play games with me.” you said.

“Y/N he was going to tell you tonight and he was so nervous that he drank so much, just to get the courage. But he told you, please tell me he told you.” he pleaded but you thought back to your encounter tonight. Maybe he was trying to get the words out loud and you cut him off kicking him out.

Your breathing got heavy and your heart broke again. He was really in love with you and came to your apartment to tell you.

“Pablo, you’re not messing with me right? Because I can’t afford to get my heart broken again.”

“Y/N I’m telling you I’ve never seen him like this, I know he’s not easy to be around sometimes and I know what he did was fucked up but” he stopped and scratched the back of his neck. “He’s madly in love with you. He ended his relationship as soon as he realized but didn’t know if you’d take him back, that’s why he didn’t reach out to tell you but tonight when he saw that you were with someone else, he freaked out saying you needed to know before you make a decision.”

“I need to talk to him, I need to talk to him now.” you said getting up, you needed to sort this out tonight and after that, you’re moving on, with or without Pedri.

“You’re in luck.” Pablo said as you tried to find your wallet and keys scattered around the house.

“He’s in my car downstairs. He called me saying you didn’t want to see him but would wait until you talk to him so I came here to pick him up before anyone sees his state. I thought you rejected him.”

You quickly mumbled a ‘stay here’ to Pablo and went downstairs, just as he said Pedri was in the passenger seat of Pablo’s car barely awake with his head on the window. He looked like he didn’t even know where he was. You slowly opened the driver’s side door and sat in the car. He didn’t move thinking it’s Pablo but soon your hand reached over to his chin making his head turn your way. His eyes opened immediately as light returned to them.

“Y/N” he said and held your hand on his face, not letting you go. He placed feather light kisses on your knuckles and looked at your eyes intensely.

“Pedri, I…”

“No, you said everything you could it’s my turn. I never realized what love actually meant and honestly I thought it was some bullshit. Even though my heart skipped a beat every time you smiled, I always shrugged it off thinking this couldn’t be love as I was too stubborn to admit it. Seeing you walk away from me broke me but I still wouldn’t see it, I thought I was just feeling bad because I hurt you. No, I was heartbroken because I lost my only chance of love. I- I- I actually have a long speech on my notes app, I wrote everything down just so I could tell you everything I felt but this is all new to me and I panicked thinking I lost you.” he said his eyes never leaving yours and you had a big smile on your lips listening him blabber on.

“I know you probably hate me right now.” his face fell.

“But I need you to know, I love you. I love you so much Y/N and I promise to respect whatever your response…” you cut him off with a kiss reaching over the console. He immediately shut up and kissed you back. Pedri occasionally pulled back and whispered ‘i love you’s to you as you kept kissing him.

This was the moment you’ve been waiting for, he was confessing his love to you and you couldn’t be happier. Even after everything he’s done, you didn’t even think twice before running to him because that’s what love is, it has ups and downs it is unpredictable but it finds a way. Pedri smiled at you and you found peace. You were pulled apart by a voice coming from the outside.

“Please don’t have make up sex in my car” you turned around and saw Pablo grinning like a child and you laughed, Pedri joining.

“So I assume you’re okay now.” he said leaning on the window.

“I am” Pedri replied “I am now.”

————

note: they’re back together yayyyy i hope you enjoyed it and i think this is where their story ends please feel free to leave any comment 💖

[my-castles-crumbling]

cas review of ttpd?

Ah yes! I am finally ready!

Cas's Review of TTPD that Two (2) People Asked For (so now you all get a fucking essay)

Literally, this is growing to be one of my favorite albums. Like...I appreciate Taylor most for her lyrics and I wrote down seven pages of them in my notebook of lyrics that fucking killed me. I feel like it's a more mature version of folklore, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I really liked the promo for this album- the lyrics being spread, the phases of grief, the entire thing was so well-done. And the double album drop left me literally screaming.

I feel like the order of the songs on the album is also super well thought out. It really tells a story and I could feel her going through the phases, especially in the first half of the album.

I thought it was cool that she definitely took some risks in the album, but most of them landed 1000%. So many of the cool things done with the lyrics, melody, and tempo were amazing and kept me interested.

I'm gonna start by listing the more specific things I didn't like because there's only three:

In the song "Fresh Out The Slammer" during the outro, the change in beat was very jarring. I LOVED the rest of the song and it just ruined it for me

Florida!!! was...a choice. I get it. The concept of going away somewhere after a breakup to get over it is great. But Florida? Like...c'mon. Also "fuck me up Florida" made me cringe.

The line in "I Hate It Here" about racists...god, I have two minds about it. I don't think there was winning with that one, and I think people are going to tear her apart for it without taking it in context. Like when you take it in the bigger picture of the song, it makes sense. But when you take it in just the few lines...it feels a bit like it's trivializing the fact that literal slavery existed during that time? So yeah. I go back and forth...

And now a song ranking and my feelings about some of the songs:

Guilty As Sin? - This song has been in my head ever since I heard it. It's perfect, it's everything.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - This is giving DBATC (favorite taylor song) vibes and I am so in love. It destroyed me.

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? - This is an ANTHEM. This will be screamed in the shower. This is so powerful.

But Daddy I Love Him - This was just so nostalgic. Like it gave Fearless Taylor and I loved it so much. Also the jumpscare fucking SHOOK me.

So Long, London - This was like a companion to You're Losing Me and god, it was amazingly hurtful.

loml - I just love slow, sad Taylor. and the twist at the end? ugh

I Hate It Here - Questionable line aside, this song was 15/10 relatable as a fanfic reader/writer

imgonnagetyouback - I feel like this will be a single.

The Prophecy - ouch

The Alchemy - Awww, so cute!

I Look In People's Windows

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

The Albatross

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - god she CAME for this man.

The Black Dog

Down Bad - I also feel like this will be a single

Fresh Out the Slammer

How Did It End?

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

TTPD

Cassandra - hahahaha whoops, we're coming for Kim again?

thanK you aIMee - and again? that line about her mom was AMAZING

So High School - adorable

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

Fortnight - she and Post Malone work so well together

The Bolter

The Manuscript

Peter

Robin

Clara Bow

Florida!!

What do you all think?

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

CAN WE GET A ALBUMS YHEY WOULD FUCK WITH PART TWO? any characters u want!!

teehee i didn't know y'all rocked w the first - lmk if i missed anyone, or if you want a girls version/an akatsuki version - thank you so much for the request!! :)

Albums I Think They Would Fuck With 2

They: Choji, Kiba, Shino, Sai, Neji, Lee, Kankuro, Gaara, Shisui, Gai, Asuma, Yamato, Jiraiya

Summary: Which of my fav albums I think each of my fav Naruto men would enjoy the most - also a classic rock recommendation list (if you rock w the character, you'd probably get down to the album)

Fav not here? Try part 1, or send me a request!

Masterlist💿

Choji

Without a Net (Live) by The Grateful Dead

Choji would be soooo salty that he never got to go to a Dead show, because he doesn't think their studio albums hold a candle to their live performances. That said, he would adore the Grateful Dead, without long and experimental their songs are (there's something to appreciate about not having to flip the record for an hour, instead of forty minutes).

Kiba

Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys

Deadass, he would think Pet Sounds is a much better album than Sgt. Pepper, and there is no way to convince him otherwise. Kiba would want to be a Wilson brother.

Shino

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme by Simon & Garfunkel

Ugh, so relaxing, so dreamy, and so easy to sing along. Shino would so love this album, because it would relax him in a way that only Si & Garf could.

Sai

Begin Here by The Zombies

Sai would love the shredding vocals and how full the music is, even the sad songs - the lyrics from multiple songs off this album would speak to him on multiple levels.

Neji

Deliver by The Mamas and The Papas

Melancholic but gentle, while still delivering strong, hopeful messages? Yeah, pen Neji down rn.

Lee

Love Grows & Other Gems by Edison Lighthouse

Screaming and crying over this - Lee would be so taken by the love songs, and he'd be whistling the darling melodies all the time. Even the ballads, Lee would be singing so beautifully.

Kankuro

Thirty Three & 1/3 by George Harrison

Would love the jazz, love the symbolism, love George Harrison. Kankuro would find this album chock-full of bangers. Not one of these tunes would be skipped, not until Kankuro has experienced it (he also will turn back the needle if he felt he wasn't appreciating a song properly).

Gaara

The Stranger (Legacy Edition) by Billy Joel

Needs to be the Legacy Edition, because Gaara fucks with the B-side heaviest (y'all need to indulge rn). He literally cries to Billy Joel's voice, and loves to forget about things while he listens to this album.

Shisui

Moving by Peter, Paul and Mary

Happy cries to this album over memories that aren't even his. He wouldn't be able to stop himself from singing along, especially to Puff and Tiny Sparrow.

Gai

Tommy by The Who

He would go an see the live show - and he would think that Tommy was a real person (before he sits down to chew on the possibility of a deaf, dumb, and blind kid being a pinball champion). Gai would still find the spirit of Tommy to be an inspiration and a testament to the power of youth.

Asuma

Physical Graffiti by Led Zeppelin

Hot damn, what is there to say? Asuma would literally wish he was John Bonham (Jimmy Page would be a far too ambitious pick, and he would know that, but never admit it).

Yamato

It Ain't Me Babe by The Turtles

Awe, sweetie!!! He would love this album for the love songs, but tell everyone he loved it for the revolution ballads (also lowk hates the stereo recordings, but finds mono too boring).

Jiraiya

Monty Python Sings by the Monty Python troupe

Oh, he fucks with regular music too, of course. But these. These songs would make him laugh so hard, on top of being so strangely good, and he would fuck with the Monty Python movies so hard.