#i have a decent amount of friends and i LOVE knowing where i am <3 id be shit at avataring both

[imaginepostingonmain]

i simply think every horror podcast should have a cast starring me: a lameass teenage boy with 0 relevance to the plot whatsoever. wait that's literally just what sonas are for isn't it. damn. outclassed by fandom once more.

[gravestrain]

And he feels like home (j. hughes)

Happy winter fic exchange! @one-night-story I am so thrilled to be able to have written this for you! I hope I created something that you love that you feel fully represented in and safe to read. 🩷

Demi @wyattjohnston, thank you as always for creating such a wonderful event for our community. Your hard work for these exchanges will never go unnoticed by me, I appreciate you so much.

And thank you to @thomasschabot for proofreading this for me and making sure it was accessible for all to read, I appreciate you so much my friend!

Title was taken from long story short by Taylor Swift. This is 4.7k words, gender neutral reader. It has been double checked by lovely c to ensure that it is safe for all to read <3

new neighbor

You considered yourself to be a very patient person. You were also extremely understanding. You didn't get upset or frustrated by much. You were a good person, sometimes you allowed people to get away with things for their own sake, even if it inconvenienced you in anyway. But at this point, you had had enough.

Since you moved into your apartment in August, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you had talked to your neighbors. You were in the corner apartment, the last at the end of the hall, your only neighbors being two young men who you presumed to be brothers.

You ran into them a few times in the hallway, the two of them hardly ever separated. You knew they left in the mid afternoon, usually in suits. You assumed it was for work, but you never felt inclined to ask. They usually look rushed, the older one pestering the younger one to "hurry up" as he got out the door.

It was only this week that you had learned their names. A piece of their mail had accidentally been dropped in your box. The name addressed as "Jack Hughes." You contemplated what to do with it, standing at their door with the letter in your hands for a few minutes when the door suddenly burst open, the younger brother opening the door.

"Oh! Hello," he muttered out awkwardly. Neither of you had known the other's name, but you both knew each other as neighbors. "Hi! Are you Jack?" You asked awkwardly, not holding out the card, making your question seem like a random inquiry. "No, I'm Luke, Jack is my brother. Why do you ask? Do you need something?" He asked in an almost bothered tone, as if people frequently came to him asking for unwanted favors.

"Oh! Duh. A piece of Jack's mail got put in my box by accident. I assume it's okay if I drop it with you?" You asked, making you almost instantly face palm. "Yep, that works. Anyway, I'm late to something. Thanks for dropping it off..." He mumbled off at the end, not knowing what to insert for your name. You told him your name, and that was that.

That was earlier this week. This was now Friday. Occasionally, you could tell that they had some small parties. Nothing too outlandish for an apartment building that shared thin walls, but a decent amount of people resulting in a louder volume. You were young yourself, you were never going to complain for a small amount of volume on the occasional Saturday night. This however, had been far too much.

You swear this was the 3rd night in a row of their little parties, and you had dealt with far too much. It was mid April, you were studying for a big exam you had. Part of your move in August was to signal the start of your journey to get your masters degree. You were almost done with the semester, just a few big exams in between, this being one of them. You knew that it seemed a little lame, studying for exams on a Friday night, but part of the move was moving to New Jersey where there was a school that was one of the best in the country for your intended major, not super close to home. With all of your studying and academic work, including working to pay for the apartment and schooling, you didn't have much time to socialize. You had gone to coffee with some people from your classes, but not much beyond that, not enough to warrant Friday night plans towards the end of the semester.

Slamming your textbook, you decided you had officially reached your limit. You paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm down a bit in an attempt to hopefully not absolutely lose it on your neighbor. It wasn't that late, but you had been studying all day with minimal breaks. You couldn't see the end of the studying in sight if your neighbors kept the music at the volume they had. You wondered how the people on the other side of them weren't bothered by the noise, but then again you had probably seen them even less than you had seen Jack and Luke.

You slipped your feet into the pair of shoes closest to the door, banging on the door in an attempt for them to hear it over the blaring music. You took a small step back when a man you didn't recognize answered the door. "Can I help you?" A dark haired man with an accent asked. Before you could open your mouth, a very energetic Jack came bustling towards the door. "Y/N! To what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked with a charming smile, almost causing your reserve to break down. But when your brain came back after the sound of the music blared through your ears, you remembered why you were over here.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's only 11. It's a Friday night. But based on your casual attire, I doubt that matters much to you," Jack quipped at your casual pajamas. "For your information, Jack, I'm studying for a big exam. Clearly you don't know much about that." You snapped back.

"For your information, my team just made the playoffs. We have a lot to celebrate." Jack flexed, causing his chest to puff out a bit. "I don't care which of your beer league teams made the playoffs, but I would really like to pass my first year of my masters program and not have to repeat. That is, after all, how I ended up here, as your neighbor." You were starting to lose your patience, and instead of Jack surrendering, he started laughing.

"Beer league, huh. Do you not know?" You rolled your eyes. "If this is your attempt at a 'Do you know who I am?' moment, you're failing severely. Or even better, if it's going to be a 'do you know who my father is?' Just save me the time, I have an exam to study for," you had one foot out the door when Jack grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Relax, I just figured you knew because that seems to be all anyone wants from us who lives in this building. Favors relating to our job. Luke and I play for the New Jersey Devils, the NHL team around here. It's okay that you don't know, however I hope now that you do, you'll choose us to be your favorite team." Jack smirked at you, causing you to giggle, which resulted in you immediately covering your mouth. What was happening to you? You didn't giggle over charming guys.

"Oh, did you guys win or something? Seems like an awfully long time to be celebrating one win," you quipped. "We made it into the playoffs. We are the number one seed. We've been celebrating for a few days because we have a bit of time off. I am sorry, it is probably excessive. We'll turn it down and remind the guys that we aren't the only ones who live here." Jack put his tail between his legs. You did feel a bit bad, but you were glad the noise was going to at least quiet down.

"I hope I didn't come off like a jerk, I just got flustered. I know you didn't know. I shouldn't have come over attacking." You muttered, causing Jack to smile.

"I'll accept your apology on one condition. Do you think you can find some time in your busy finals schedule to come to one of our games? I can get you more details when the playoffs schedule comes out, but I would it if you could come. I think Luke might be a little jealous that I softened you up first, but it just adds for some more bragging rights on the kid."

You couldn't believe your ears. Your cute, albeit a little clueless neighbor, was not only a professional athlete, but he was also asking you on a date if you weren't mistaken.

"Well Jack, I'd love to, but you just better hope I pass this exam." You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Good thing we're gonna turn the volume down."

2. first game

What do you wear to a hockey game that you were invited to by your neighbor who you have only talked to a few times but you think he may have been awkwardly potentially flirting with you when he invited you?

You were digging through your closet, looking for something appropriate to wear for probably one of the most awkward, unique events you have ever been to. You can't say that you had ever been to a professional hockey game. You weren't clueless to the rules and such, you just never had the opportunity to attend one in person.

Not to mention, you were going alone. You only had a few casual friends at school through this point in the year, and it didn't feel appropriate to bring any of them to this... interesting event you were going to. Plus, you were certain that you would be wrapped up in the game. You were nervous enough as is, and you can't imagine if you had to sit there and make awkward small talk with one of your classmates who might be able to say what your last name is.

Sitting in the uber on the way there made you start to question your choice of agreeing to go to the game. You had no idea how this would go other than you knew that Jack had slipped the ticket under your door earlier this morning and written on it was instructions on how to get to the gate. One thing that caused your cheeks to heat was that on the bottom of the post it note, was his phone number.

This made it feel almost official in a way, having his phone number. Before you could dwell on it too much, your uber pulled up to the door that Jack directed you to. You thanked the driver and walked in to the stadium, immediately overwhelmed by everything. For a second you considered turning around and making something up to Jack that you were sick, but when you took a second to look around, you saw so many happy people with Jack's last name plastered across their backs, number 86 standing proudly. You felt a sense of pride for Jack, though you weren't sure how to feel about that.

That sense of pride never went away once the game started. Your eyes were on Jack from the second his feet touched the ice, and the moment he sat on the bench. Your eyes followed him all the way to the bench, wishing the time he wasn't on the ice would go faster. You wondered why you had never been interested on hockey. Jack was so talented, and the game ended with him scoring a goal and getting two assists. You thought for a second that he was looking up at you when he scored, but you shook your head quickly to rid your brain of those thoughts.

As the game ended, it suddenly occurred to you that you weren't sure how this would end. You sat in your seat for a while letting the seats clear out, preparing to walk towards the gate that you entered in, opening the uber app. As soon as your phone unlocked, a message from Jack popped up on your phone.

"Meet me outside," it read. "I'd like to take you to dinner and drive you home. I'll meet you by the gate you entered in."

Your cheeks flushed at his admission, suddenly looking down at your outfit. Was this appropriate for a dinner date? You were not planning on this at all. You checked what you looked like in the front camera of your phone. Before you could decide whether or not you looked appropriate, you heard a familiar laugh. Your chest warmed at the idea that his laugh could be so familiar, so homey despite the fact that the two of you had not spent much time together.

Jack's feet sped up as he caught up to you, just excited to see you after a great win. His smile was contagious when he saw you standing there, staring at your sneakers in an attempt to not be noticed by the rest of the guys who might ask questions.

In the end, it wasn't Jack who spoke up first. It was Luke. "Y/N! I'm so glad you came! I wanted to score for you, but unfortunately this guy beat me to it," he smiled, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You tried to relax into his arms, telling yourself this was a new normal in your life. Casual banter with your neighbors who just so happen to be professional athletes making millions of dollars.

"Hey back off, I invited them. You dropped the ball. Your turn is up, by the way," Jack muttered, causing Luke to give a quizzical look. Taking advantage of Luke's moment of confusion, Jack sneaks around him and puts his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. A noise of surprise comes out of your mouth. Not discomfort, just surprise at his sudden display of physical affection. "That was awesome!" Jack yelled. "Did you have so much fun?" He asked, pulling away to see your face looking up at him.

"Well it would have been more fun if Luke scored for me but I guess I'll settle for your points," you teased. He smiled, his cheeks turning red at your teasing. "Y/N, is Jack blushing? Did you turn him into a shy mess?" Luke teased and Jack groaned, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I just want to impress you," he smiled which caused your entire body to heat up. It never occurred to you that he wanted to impress you. That you were there because he wanted you to be impressed with his game and how he played.

"Well don't worry, I was thoroughly impressed. Would you like to go to dinner now?" You asked. "Am I invited? Is this like a neighborly get together?" Luke was now teasing you both, causing both of you to get bashful. "Dude, clearly this is a date," Jack mumbled, causing your eyebrows to raise. "Clearly? Is that what we're calling it now. I mean I certainly thought it was, but you never asked me." You and Luke were truly just having fun with the teasing now.

"Jack, it's not very gentlemanly to assume it's a date. You really should ask, especially with someone like Y/N. They're a catch!" Jack was glaring daggers into Luke. "Yes, I should. Y/N, I would like tonight to be a date. Will you go out on a date with me?" Jack asked, grabbing your hand in his. You were grinning, nodding your head. "Well then, Luke I think it's past your bedtime. Why don't you go home with Holtzy and I will take Y/N out for dinner?" Luke shook his head, giggling. "Wouldn't you like that," he laughed. "Luke-" "Fine! Fine! I'm done. I'll go. Y/N, it was a pleasure to laugh with you. You kids enjoy yourself."

"I have a feeling we will."

3. first (real) date

Your dinner with Jack was perfect. You finally got the news back that you had passed the exam you were stressing about, and to celebrate, you got your favorite take out and watched Jack's game on the couch with a glass of wine. It was strange, to whole heartedly notice his absence when him and Luke were away for games. Right now, they were on a short West coast road trip, Denver, Arizona, and Seattle, and then heading back home for a few days off before a home game.

This was their last game being gone, and you found yourself waiting hopefully for Jack to come back. You had been texting a lot on the road trip, Jack even calling you once after he crawled into the empty bed next to Jesper's bed. According to Jack, his friend, teammate, and road roommate Jesper slept like the dead, even going as far as to wearing headphones when he slept, so there was no concern of the call waking him up. That didn't stop you from keeping your voice to a low volume, which Jack of course countered by yelling an obnoxious "What was that?" whenever he couldn't hear you.

After a Devils win, you crawled into bed for the night, finding yourself thinking of Jack, and how you couldn't wait to see him. You were in so deep.

------

As you cleaned up the remnants of your late afternoon lunch, a knock sounded on your door. You had a feeling you knew who it was, but you still checked the peephole to see Jack's face on the other side, nervously rocking back and forth on his feet, holding something in his hand.

Flowers.

"Hi, it's so good to see you!" You smiled, welcoming him inside. "These are for you. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate, but I wanted to ask you something, so I thought these might help. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go to dinner with me on Friday? We have a game on Thursday night, and I thought a more formal, not after a game greasy pizza joint dinner would be fun. That is, if you are interested? If not, it's okay, I was just," you finally cut him off with a hand on his arm. "Jack! I'd love to. The flowers are beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me. I would love nothing more." You smiled, causing an audible sigh to come from Jack's lips.

"Oh thank God! Sorry, I didn't want to ramble, I just really got nervous. I wanted you to say yes but I didn't want to sound weird or make you uncomfortable." He smiled. Neither of you knew what was going on. Jack was stunned that his neighbor who he had barely talked to but admired from afar had turned him into a nervous, blushing mess. You also couldn't say you were expecting to fall for your neighbor. But when he was gone, you came to that conclusion: you were absolutely falling for Jack. You were falling for him, you couldn't understand how it had happened or why, but you absolutely were.

When it came time for your date to come, you felt more nervous than you did for the game. Jack had let you know that you were going to be going to a nicer restaurant. You picked his brain a bit at what to wear. What you didn't know is that he had preplanned his outfit, mannerisms, conversations, basically his every move for the date with his mom and brothers. Well, mostly Quinn. When Luke saw how nervous he was, he was constantly teasing him. Luke loved to tease him about how you should have fallen for him instead of Jack. Of course it was all jokes, as soon as the two of you started hanging out Luke could immediately see the chemistry between the two of you. He knew that your connection was much deeper than any sort of joke he could make. He was really happy for his older brother, finally seeing him fall for a person who made him truly happy.

When you decided on an outfit that was both appropriate for the occasion and made you feel good about yourself, you started pacing by the front door of your apartment, anxiously waiting for Jack to come. It was about 10 minutes before he said he would arrive. On the other side of the wall, Jack thought about coming a few minutes early, but his mom immediately shut that down. Jack argued that he wanted to seem timely and didn't want to keep you waiting. Ellen shut him down, though.

"How long does it take you to walk 10 steps next door? You never want to rush someone getting ready, especially for a first date." Luke was cackling in the background, of course.

At 6:00 on the dot, Jack was knocking on your door. He was almost more nervous than when he came by a few days before asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him, if that was even possible. When you opened the door, Jack planted his feet in the ground, willing himself to not fall over on his ass and make a complete fool of himself.

You were absolutely stunning. You looked so amazing in Jack's eyes. He felt himself blushing as soon as you opened the door. He was thanking his lucky stars, wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to find someone as special as you.

"Y/N..." he finally breathed out, his heart racing. "What? Do I look okay?" You began to feel nervous under his intense gaze, your hands instinctively picking at your fingernails. "Okay would be an insult. You look incredible. These are for you, by the way," Jack handed you the flowers he forgot he even had. "That's so sweet! You didn't have to bring me flowers. The ones you brought me a few days ago are still going strong. They will look beautiful together, though."

You took a minute to put the flowers in a vase. Jack was watching you from afar, you felt his eyes on you, following you around your small kitchen. Truthfully, he was admiring you. He couldn't help but blush at the sight of you, putting flowers in the vase that he bought for you, getting ready for the date that he was taking you out on. He felt like he won the lottery.

When you turned around, you saw him blushingly admiring you, causing your own cheeks to heat up. "What has you so smiley?" you asked, taking a step closer to him, bravely grabbing his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his hand in an attempt to help him feel calm. Jack was certain no one had ever made him feel this nervous. Certainly not someone he was dating. "I just can't believe how beautiful you are. I feel so lucky that you are going out with me."

Both of you were nervous wrecks at this point. Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you were leaning forward, kissing him on the cheek. As soon as Jack felt your lips on his skin, he knew he had to kiss you. "Can I kiss you? Like, on the lips," he muttered, causing you to giggle. "Yes Jack, you can kiss me, like on the lips." He groaned at your teasing, but before he could throw his head back exasperatedly, you leaned forward, capturing his lips with your own.

Jack felt himself melt, holding onto your waist in an attempt to hold himself up straight. It was official. You had softened Jack into a gushy, pillowy mess. And Jack had never been so happy.

+1. as a couple

6 months later

"Jack, honey, if you keep stomping any louder, the people below us are gonna come complain," you muttered teasingly at him. "You really think they can hear you? Besides, if they came and complained, I would simply explain to them that my amazing partner, whom I care for very much, is meeting my family for the first time, and I think they would understand." He quipped back, causing you to laugh.

Jack's parents were coming in to town for the first time in the new season. Before you met Jack, you had long planned to spend the summer abroad with your closest friend. Jack was thrilled for you, but disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend time together over the summer at his summer house. He did however, jet off to meet you in Italy for a week, which was perfect. Ordinarily, you probably would have met Jack's parents already, but with the chaos of your summer, it was now the Devils home opener, and you had yet to meet your boyfriend's parents.

"If I'm so amazing, why are you so nervous for me to meet them?" Jack groaned, causing you to laugh. Teasing each other was something so common, but it was always done lovingly. It was almost a love language of sorts between the two of you.

"Babe, how many times have I talked to Quinn on FaceTime with you? And Luke is the best friend I have here in Jersey, besides you obviously, so it's just your parents. Who, by the way, we have also Facetimed with a handful of times together."

"I know, but in person it's different. They might get knocked on their ass by your good looks and charm, just like I was. And besides, if you think Luke's teasing and sarcasm is bad, just wait until you meet my dad. Where do you think he gets it from?" Jack continues to ramble. To an outsider, it might look like Jack didn't want you to meet his parents, but you both knew it was the complete opposite. The two of you hadn't been together for that long, but in a way that didn't matter. Jack was close to saying the "l word," and you probably weren't that far behind him. He wanted you to meet his parents because he wanted them to love you as much as he did. You felt the same way.

In an attempt to stop his never ending nerves, you took the few steps across the room towards him, putting your hand on his cheek and pulling him in for a soft kiss. "Jack, I am thrilled to meet your parents. If it makes you feel any better, I am a bit nervous too. I want them to like me. Although, I'm sure you've bored them to tears with stories making me seem like I'm the most amazing person on the Earth." "Because you are," Jack intervened, serious as a heart attack.

You laughed at his genuine tone, he was always buttering you up. "They'll love you, because you're amazing. Besides, Lukey and Quinn already love you. This will be easy work for you. The shock of me being in a serious relationship has already worn off. They're thrilled to meet you," you laughed at his half hearted attempt at a joke.

"Besides, I'm sure they will be so excited to meet the person who has turned you into a sap," you laughed, causing Jack's mouth to open in shock. "I am not a sap!" He tried to quip back, but you both knew he was absolutely lying. He was so soft on you, something none of his loved ones had ever seen. "Jack, yesterday you laid your nice jacket over a puddle in the nasty streets of Jersey for me to walk over because there was no way around it," you stared back at him. "That puddle was huge! Your pant legs would've been soaked, I know you would've hated that." You laughed at his kind hearted attempt at an explanation.

"You are one of a kind Jack Hughes," you started. "I truly love you." As soon as the words came out of your mouth, your hand covered it in shock. Of course you loved Jack, but you were so nervous to tell him. You had never said those words to someone romantically before, and you were both certain he would say it first, even though you hadn't talked about it before.

"You love me?" He asked, his voice quivering. "Of course I love you, did you miss the puddle story? I would be crazy not to have fallen in love with you." At this point, both of your eyes were watery, Jack's grip on your shoulders never wavering. "Oh my God, you love me. Oh my God, wait, I love you! I love you so much! I can't believe I haven't said it back yet! I love you!" Jack was over the moon, causing you to laugh wetly.

You had absolutely softened Jack to his core. But you were nothing but soft for him, the two of you a perfect match for each other. When you pulled each other in for a kiss, the love between the two of you was imminent, the nerves of the upcoming event melting away. Jack couldn't wait to introduce you to his parents as his partner whom he loved so much, and you couldn't wait to love them as much as you loved him.

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night. 

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed. 

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm. 

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept. 

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already. 

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes. 

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right. 

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?” 

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

-

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire. 

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—” 

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

-

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far. 

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items. 

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately. 

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse. 

-

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse. 

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen. 

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment. 

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea. 

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment. 

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

-

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness. 

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice. 

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him. 

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time. 

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.” 

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

 “If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him. 

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof. 

But, here he was, lusting after you. 

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made. 

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet. 

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play. 

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid. 

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake. 

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you. 

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves. 

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water. 

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly. 

Like you’d been caught. 

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite. 

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind. 

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect. 

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

-

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape. 

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration. 

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind. 

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut. 

Joel was safe, he was good. 

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it. 

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning. 

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

[weemssapphic]

hiii, I hope you are having a great day!

I was wondering... i know it was hard to write lipstick stain buuut would you consider doing a part 2?

hello, i hope you're having a lovely day as well! a couple people asked if i would write a second part so... here it is! ao3 link is in the title <3

for those who haven't read part one: here's a link (it's also in my masterlist)

content/warnings: Larissa takes reader out on a date - nsfw (dom!larissa), age gap (reader is 21+), sexual shapeshifting, praise kink, alcohol consumption, cunnilingus (reader receiving), corruption kink if you squint?

words: ~4.5k

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 2

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Moonlight filtered into the living room of the apartment you shared with your friends, the soft glow a stark contrast to the harsh light coming from the home screen of Netflix that illuminated the television.

You’d somehow managed to field most of your roommate’s questions about your afternoon, wanting to keep the “juicy details”, as Christin put it, to yourself, and soon the topic had moved on to Cassandra’s failing love life, your upcoming midterm exams, and where you would all go for your spring break trip.

Pizza boxes and empty beer bottles were strewn across the coffee table. Christin was nestled in Robin’s arms on the larger of the two couches, Cassandra curled up on the smaller couch, leaving you on a pile of fuzzy blankets on the floor. You didn’t mind - you were wide awake anyway, mind going a mile a minute.

You grabbed your phone from where it layed next to you, beginning to flick through each of your social media apps, hoping for a brief reprieve from the woman that plagued your every thought, from the growing ache between your thighs. The reprieve did not come. Instead, you found your thumb hovering over your contacts app. A quick glance at your roommates told you they were out cold. You scrolled down to the ‘L’s, finding Larissa’s name and opening a new message. 

A glance at the time told you it was 1:34 am. There was no way in hell she’d be up. Even if she were… she’d have something better to do, you were sure of it. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, staring at your phone, thumbs hovering over the screen as you debated whether or not to text her. 

A snore to your right brought you out of your daze. You locked your phone, groaning and dropping your head to the floor. What had this woman done to you, in such a short amount of time?

You picked yourself up off the floor, switching off the television and heading out of the living room in the hopes that a cold shower and a decent night's sleep would get your mind off the older woman.

Of course, you were sorely mistaken. You couldn’t get your mind off her, no matter how hard you tried, and by the middle of the week, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You found yourself pacing your room on a Wednesday afternoon, finger hovering once again over Larissa’s contact, typing out and deleting a message over and over again. Everything you came up with sounded so stupid - so juvenile. Perhaps she’d appreciate a phone call instead?

Fuck it. You pressed the ‘call’ button and lifted your phone to your ear, heart beating faster with each passing ring, until it pounded against your ribcage, struggling to break free.

“Larissa Weems?” Her tone was cool, professional, put together - while you felt like you were coming apart at the seams.

“Hi,” you breathed out. “It’s Y/N. You know, from the-”

“I know who you are.” You could practically hear the woman smirk at the other end of the line. “I was wondering when you would call.” 

At least she remembers your name? That has to count for something?

“Uh, right. Yeah. I was just wondering how you were doing? And, maybe, if you were free sometime?” You stopped your pacing to shuffle from foot to foot, glancing out the window to watch the cars pass by on the street below.

Larissa’s melodic laugh reached your ear and your stomach flipped pleasantly. “I’m doing well, thank you.”

There was a brief pause in which time seemed to stand still as you wondered what she was thinking, whether she was going to try to let you down gently. And then - “What do you say I take you out to dinner on Friday?” 

Dinner? Somehow you’d just been expecting a hook-up, you hadn’t dared hope the woman would show any interest in you beyond relieving some sexual frustration.

“Darling?” You realized with a jolt that Larissa was waiting for a reply.

“Y-yes, of course, I’d love to go out to dinner with you.”

“Wonderful. The earliest I can make is 7, I hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You couldn’t help the victorious grin that was spreading across your face, the butterflies that were erupting in your stomach.

“Where can I pick you up?”

You recited your address and said goodbye to Larissa, barely having hung up the phone before falling back onto your bed and squealing in delight. The panic would set in soon enough when you realized you had no idea where you were going or what you should be wearing.

~~~

Friday came both far too quickly and far too slowly for your liking. Your roommates teased you relentlessly, though they thankfully had the mercy to make themselves scarce when the afternoon of your date with Larissa came upon you.

Robin and Christin excused themselves early to go on a date of their own while Cassandra helped you with your makeup, distracting you with some horror stories of hook-ups with frat boys from her freshman year. 

When it was time for you to get dressed, she gave you a quick hug and shut herself in her room, turning Spotify all the way up to give you your space.

6:57 pm. You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror. You’d opted for a long black skirt and a baby blue silk blouse with just the top button undone. Cassandra had done a great job with your makeup - you didn’t usually wear eyeliner, but you had to admit it suited you, drawing attention to your eyes. You hoped Larissa would like it.

Your phone buzzed and you reached for it automatically. Larissa.

“Hi, are you here?”

“I believe so, though the parking here is a little confusing.”

It was your turn to laugh - she was right, the set-up of the student apartment buildings wasn’t very visitor-friendly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be right down.”

You grabbed your keys and your wallet, stuffing them into a little clutch that you’d dug out of the back of your closet, praying you were dressed fancy enough for wherever Larissa was taking you. She dressed rather expensively and you were sure her taste was no different.

You took the steps two at a time, somehow managing not to twist an ankle in your heeled boots, and scoured the parking lot for your date, finally spotting the woman leaned against a deep blue Rolls Royce at the other end of the lot, busy typing away on her phone.

Your cheeks warmed as you drank in her form. Her dress was silver, off-the shoulder, cinched at the waist. The fabric rippled off her hips like a waterfall, stopping just shy of her ankles. Her hands were gloved and she wore a long coat and heels that added a few inches to her already impressive height. She was stunning - and you were definitely underdressed.

You waved to her as you approached, finally getting her attention. A warm smile spread across her face and she opened the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to get in.

“Chivalrous,” you remarked, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“I can be.” Her hand brushed your shoulder and she threw you a wink before closing your door and heading over to the driver’s side.

Larissa put the car in drive and pulled onto the street, her right hand coming to rest on your thigh. “I’ve taken the liberty of making a reservation at my favorite restaurant, I do hope you’ll enjoy it.”

You swallowed hard as her thumb began to draw slow, lazy circles over the fabric of your skirt. “I’m sure I’ll love it, Larissa.”

The drive was short, less than 10 minutes, and most of it was spent humming along absentmindedly to the radio as Larissa continued her ministrations on your thigh, shooting you a glance every so often.

She pulled into the parking lot of one of the most expensive restaurants in Burlington. You moved to open your own door but Larissa was faster, having maneuvered swiftly around the car and pulled the door open for you. She placed a hand on the small of your back as she led you into the restaurant and a shiver ran up your spine, your skin burning from the contact despite the layers of fabric between the two of you.

You were led to a booth at the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes. The waiter brought you a pair of menus as well as the wine list, before tilting his head towards you, an apology already formed in his eyes. 

“Miss, I apologize but I will have to see your ID.”

Your cheeks burned as you rifled through your purse, while Larissa busied herself with the wine list to hide the smirk forming on her lips.

The waiter checked your ID and, once satisfied, apologized again and left you to peruse the menu.

You looked at the woman across from you and saw her shoulders begin to shake with laughter.

“Hey,” you pouted, searching the table for something you could possibly toss at her to get her to stop giggling. “I’m of age, you know.”

“I never doubted that you were,” Larissa suppressed another giggle and, finally, met your gaze. “Has anyone ever told you how adorable you look when you pout like that?”

“I don’t look adorable,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and furrowing your brow, before realizing Larissa had you exactly where she wanted you. “This really isn’t fair, you know that, right?”

“Darling, I never said I played fair.” Her eyes darkened and her voice dropped an octave as she leaned across the table, her hand coming to cup your cheek. Her thumb grazed your bottom lip and you sucked in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“You’re a tease,” you whined. 

“I have a feeling you’ll come to enjoy it,” Larissa shot you a playful wink before settling back in her seat. “Now, let me spoil you.”

If the wetness pooling between the apex of your thighs was anything to go by, this was going to be a long night.

Larissa ordered a bottle of her favorite red for the table and insisted, with a pointed glare, that you don’t pay attention to the prices on the menu. The two of you spoke about art and culture as you waited for your food, and you chattered on about your art history courses. She seemed genuinely interested in your life as she rested her chin on her hand, fully captivated as she watched you with a glint in her sapphire eyes. 

“So, what is it that you do?” you asked. The woman opposite you intrigued you so - by the time your food arrived, you felt you’d been blabbering at her all evening, and you didn’t know a single thing about her yet. 

“I’m the principal of a school.” 

“Oh? Sounds intense. Which school?”

“Nevermore Academy.” Larissa seemed to tense slightly, eyes carefully searching every inch of your face. 

Your brows furrowed as you thought, carefully chewing a piece of your food. “Oh - that school for… uh, Outcasts?” You tried to recall if you were using the correct term - your roommate, Robin, had grown up in the area and told you stories of some local kids in the area who’d gone to Nevermore, vampires and werewolves and the like, though you knew she tended to over-dramatize things.

Larissa’s lips pulled into a thin line and she nodded, knuckles turning white as her fingers flexed around her silverware. 

“That sounds so cool! I’m not really from this area so I don’t know much about it, but isn’t that like everyone’s dream? To have some kind of magical superpower?” 

Larissa seemed to visibly relax, a hesitant smile gracing her lips. “I don’t quite think that’s what everyone thinks, though I’m certainly doing my best to rectify Nevermore’s reputation.”

“That’s a shame,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine and smiling at Larissa, trying to ease any remnants of tension that the conversation seemed to bring up - you could tell she wasn’t used to people being accepting about her profession or her status as an Outcast. Was she an Outcast? 

“I don’t know if this is rude to ask but… are you… do you have any… you know? ‘Superpowers’?” You immediately cringed at yourself for sounding so stupid, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

Larissa laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “I do, if you want to call it that.” She looked down into her wine glass, swirling the stem gently between the tips of her manicured fingers.

You raised an eyebrow and cocked your head, waiting for her to continue. She seemed to deliberate for a moment as a long silence stretched between the two of you.

“I’m a shapeshifter.” Her words rolled off her tongue as if she weighed every syllable with great care. She raised her eyes to meet yours, her expression giving away nothing except perhaps a hint of challenge. 

You racked your brain for an appropriate reaction to the admission, sensing your next words would be terribly important to the older woman. 

“Oh…” You let out a deep breath. “That seems like it would come in handy. Thank you for telling me.” You placed your hand on the table between the two of you, palm facing up, wiggling your fingers. 

Larissa looked between your eyes and your hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, placed her own hand in yours, a brilliant, toothy smile lighting up her face. Your skin tingled where hers met your own, lighting up all the nerves in your body. 

You were pleased to find that you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself, and conversation flowed even easier after that point. Larissa opened up about the trials and tribulations that came with running an entire school, all while your hands were intertwined on the table. 

You’d long finished your meals, the bottle of wine you’d shared was nearly empty when you felt something brush against your ankle and you yelped, nearly jumping out of your seat. 

Larissa suppressed a giggle, giving your hand a squeeze as the tip of her heel grazed against the muscle of your calf. 

“How did you like the food?” Her voice was low and sultry and as she leaned across the table, you caught a strong whiff of her perfume, dowsing you in a steep wave of arousal.

“I-I loved it.” You clenched your thighs together, trying to ignore the building tension in your abdomen and focus on the present moment with your date. “It was so, so good. Really, thank you so much for taking me here.”

“Darling, the pleasure was all mine. But now I think I’d really like to have some dessert, if that’s alright with you?” Larissa’s gaze was intense, all-consuming, hungry - you felt yourself drowning in her eyes, your stomach fluttering at the prospect of what she was proposing. 

You swallowed back a whimper and nodded, unable to concentrate as the pad of Larissa’s thumb traced over your knuckles.

Larissa paid your bill, tipping generously and leading you back to her car. Her hand rested on your thigh again during the drive, inching slowly and tantalizingly higher every few minutes as the pads of her fingers began gentle ministrations against your skirt. You wished in that moment you’d worn something more revealing, feeling desperate for her touch on your skin. 

As the car pulled up a long, winding drive towards a massive, castle-like building, Larissa’s fingers finally brushed against the fabric covering your core, drawing a strangled hiss from your throat. 

“We’re here,” Larissa smirked, removing her hand from your skirt and parking the car. 

“So is this Nevermore?” You bit the inside of your cheek in a vain attempt to regain control of yourself, staring up at the imposing building through the car window with interest.

“It is, I have my apartment at the school. It’s easier that way.”

Larissa led you inside the school. You rushed after her, struggling to keep up with her long strides as she navigated her way through the dark, looming halls, completely empty at this time of night. She stopped in front of a pair of wood-paneled double doors, fishing her keys out of her purse and letting you into the apartment.

Within seconds of the door shutting behind you, Larissa’s lips were on yours. You let out a groan as she pressed you into the door, simultaneously shrugging off her coat and tossing it to the floor. Her hands trailed down your sides, cupping your ass and lifting you off the floor to pin you against the door.

Larissa’s tongue slid against the seam of your lips, coaxing a moan from your throat as you granted her access to explore your mouth. Your entire body was ablaze as she began to pepper your jaw and throat with kisses, moving her lips to your pulse point and grazing her teeth over your sensitive skin.

“Larissa, please,” you whined, the ache between your legs becoming too much. You needed her, you’d needed her since you’d first had her nearly a week ago, and the ache was finally becoming too much to bear.

“So eager.” You could feel the ghost of a smirk against your throat as Larissa carried you effortlessly back through an open doorway, nipping and sucking at the column of your throat. Larissa placed you on her bed and hovered over you, lips connecting with every inch of bare skin she could reach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Her fingers worked at the buttons of your blouse, expertly ridding you of the garment within seconds. Your bra came next and then her mouth was on your breasts, tongue working your nipples into hard peaks as she drew breathy moans from your throat.

Your skirt joined the rest of your clothes on the floor and Larissa trailed open-mouthed kisses down your torso, biting little marks to remember the night by. You yelped when she bit down on the inside of your thigh, arousal leaking out of your core. 

Finally, Larissa’s tongue made contact with your cunt, licking a path up your folds to your clit, circling it once, twice. The scent of your arousal hung heavy in the air, spurring her on as she lapped at your pussy.

“Does this feel good, Y/N?” You could only whimper in response, fingers tangled in the sheets behind you to steady yourself. You were embarrassingly close already, simply from the effect of the woman’s intoxicating presence.

“You taste absolutely divine, my darling,” Larissa hummed, sucking your clit as her fingers teased your entrance.

“P-please,” you whimpered, thighs twitching as you brought your hands to Larissa’s hair, fingers tangling in her blonde tresses.

“Please what?” The vibrations of Larissa’s lips against your pussy were driving you wild with need.

“I’m so close…” Larissa plunged her fingers into your cunt and you bucked your hips up in time to meet her thrusts. Your walls began to clench around her fingers as you reached your first orgasm, your moans increasing in volume.

Your gaze wandered down, eyes meeting Larissa’s, and the sight was what made the coil behind your navel snap. Her pupils were blown so wide there was not a sliver of sapphire visible, her cheeks were dusted pink, her hair was coming out of its elegant updo, curls falling messily across her forehead.

Larissa lapped up the juices leaking out of your core as you rode out your high, planting soothing kisses along the insides of your thighs and cleaning you up while you steadied your breathing. 

She moved up your body, connecting your lips in a bruising kiss so that you could taste yourself on her tongue, swallowing your moan.

Larissa pulled back to look at you, the insatiable hunger in her eyes setting a fire ablaze inside of you.

“Y/N, can you be a good girl for me?” Your thighs clenched together with want and you nodded fervently. There it was again - good girl - of course you would be, you would be anything for her.

Larissa slid off to the side of the bed and tugged at the zipper of her dress, revealing the smooth expanse of her back, dotted with pale freckles. She slid the dress farther down, until it reached the swell of her ass, then allowed it to fall to the floor. 

To your absolute delight she’d forgone a bra, and as she turned to face you your breath hitched in your chest, struck by the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. The peaks of her nipples, hardened by a chill in the air; the slight swell of her stomach, disappearing into red lacy panties; the freckles on her shoulders, sprawled out like constellations.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, secretly a bit pleased at yourself with the hint of a blush you were able to produce on the apple’s of Larissa’s cheeks.

“My darling girl,” she cooed sweetly, a contrast to the devious smirk playing upon her lips. “Do you remember what I was telling you earlier? About me being a shapeshifter?”

You nodded slowly, brows furrowing, unsure where the woman was going with this. 

“I am able to shift… certain parts of myself.” Your mind, still a bit hazy from your first orgasm, raced in an attempt to compute what she was saying. Larissa towered over you, waiting patiently until - finally - your eyes widened as comprehension dawned on your face. 

“I would so like to take you tonight, my dear,” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry and you could only nod eagerly. You felt your heart begin to race, heat pooling between your legs at her proposal. She smirked down at you with kiss-swollen lips, lipstick smudged, and you knew you were done for.

Larissa crawled on top of you, planting sloppy, heated kisses along your jaw. It was then that you felt it - an unfamiliar bulge, pressing insistently against your leg through the lace of Larissa’s underwear. 

“You make me so hard,” she groaned. You moaned involuntarily as the older woman began to grind against your thigh, rubbing her bulge against your sensitive skin. Your skin buzzed with electricity, all the blood in your body seemingly rushing straight to your cunt. You needed her inside you.

Larissa pushed herself up to discard her panties, her full length now on display, standing to attention. Your pupils dilated as you stared at her, transfixed, drool pooling in your mouth. You dropped your thighs open, revealing your dripping sex, and Larissa chuckled at your neediness.

“My beautiful girl, so ready for me.” Larissa gazed down at you fondly, cupping your cheek with her hand. She traced your lower lip with her thumb, letting out a moan as you sucked it into your mouth.

“Lay back,” she instructed, and you did as you were told, chest heaving as Larissa crawled on top of you, pressing her body into yours, her skin hot to the touch. She reached a hand between the two of you to grasp her cock and drag the tip up your slit, whimpering at the sensation.

You bucked your hips up, whining needily and fisting at the sheets.

“Darling,” Larissa whispered, her breath hot on the shell of your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

Your own breath hitched in your chest as she finally pushed inside of you, letting out a guttural moan as your warm pussy clenched around her length.

She paused for a moment to allow you to get used to the sensation of being filled. “Is this alright?”

“Mhmm. It’s good.” You shifted your hips, watching carefully as Larissa’s eyelids fluttered shut, eyelashes brushing against flushed cheekbones. “How does it feel for you?”

Larissa smiled sweetly, opening her eyes and gazing down at you as a light blush spread across her cheeks. “It feels amazing.” Her expression turned wistful. “No one’s ever asked me that.”

It was something you couldn’t fathom, and with some effort due to your height difference and the position, you reached up to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, fingertips brushing lovingly against her jaw as if trying to convey an apology for every idiot who had ever slept with her and not cared for her pleasure.

You rocked your hips a bit, causing Larissa to shift above you. “May I?” You nodded, teeth sinking into your lip as she began to slide out of you, then back in, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to her.

Larissa found a steady rhythm inside of you, rocking her hips against yours, stretching you out with every thrust. She seemed to hit every nerve-ending inside of you, knowing exactly how to move her hips to have you writhing in pleasure beneath her. 

Your hands clung to the sheets beneath you, fingers twisting so hard at the fabric that you might rip it. Larissa’s hands settled on your waist, steadying herself so she could pick up her pace. You stared, enraptured, her tits bouncing as she pounded into you.

Larissa leaned over you so that she could press a searing kiss to your lips as her hands came to rest next to your head.

“Tell me what you want,” Larissa cooed, continuing her brutal pace inside your cunt.

“Oh- fuck, Rissa, use me.”

Larissa’s moans became filthier by the minute and you could tell, somewhere behind the hazy cloud of your impending orgasm, that she must be close too by the way the snapping of her hips was becoming more and more erratic, the way her breath was coming out in short puffs, the way her hand that she used to steady herself next to your head twisted at the sheets with white-knuckled desperation.

“Be a good girl for me and come with me, darling,” Larissa breathed, groaning as she thrusted into you, on the verge of climax.

You came first, your senses flooding with delight as you reached your peak. It was pure ecstasy, feeling your walls clench around Larissa’s cock. You could hear the older woman’s own cry above you and you forced your eyes to stay open so you could watch her, her face contorted with pleasure above you; eyes screwed shut, jaw slack. 

Larissa slid out of you carefully, chuckling as you mewled pathetically at the sudden feeling of emptiness. She slumped onto the mattress beside you, completely spent, slipping her arm under your torso to pull you into a soft embrace. With her body pressed against yours, skin to skin, you could feel that she’d shifted back again.

“That was… wow,” you sighed, nuzzling into Larissa’s chest. She laughed, a melodious sound that you immediately committed to memory.

“It was indeed.” She pressed her lips to yours in an affectionate, loving kiss. “You did so well for me, love,” she murmured, fingertips skating across the skin of your back in soothing patterns. You breathed in her scent, allowing it to wash over you and calm your still racing heart.

“I can drive you home but-” Larissa saw the slight pout of your lower lip and grinned, “but I would love it if you’d stay the night. Perhaps I could entice you with breakfast in bed?”

You smiled up at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “You could entice me with you. I would love to stay the night.”

Larissa settled back against the pillows, pulling you on top of her, relishing the contact with your bare skin. She pressed her lips to your forehead, watching your eyes flutter closed and listening intently as your breathing slowed before allowing herself to succumb to sleep, a peaceful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

x

tags: @enchantressb @rainbow-hedgehog

[renren-006]

Lost Love Series/ Part 1- Atlanta-Virginia

Negan x fem reader

plot: reader and negan were together before the world ended, but after it did they got separated. what happens when they find each-other again? (the first part is just establishing where the reader is, not much mention of negan yet! will be maybe a 2/3 part story)

A/N: hey hey! for this story i am just on a Jeffry dean morgan kick and wanted to write something longer for him! hope you enjoy and leave some comments for ideas and requests are still open for anyone wanting to leave one!

warnings: violence,

Word count: 1140

other parts: Part 2: Heart Strings

You met Rick and his group in Atlanta. You had become friends with Beth when she joined you at the Hospital before she died. Yourself and Noah were at first unsure of the new group welcoming you in. You felt bad for them, having lost the young girl with such fire in her eyes. You loved Beth and you had cared for her, and Noah, while you were all at the Hospital. How you ended up getting the courage to leave and to watch the man, Daryl, carry her body out of the building, you didn't know. You stumbled after them, hopeless and tired. You had lost many people over the years of this apocalyptic world, but this loss stung your heart. You knew what it was like to love and lose people, you had lost your husband right when the world had ended, or at least you assumed he was dead after these 2ish years of never seeing him. 

The group meandered their way out of the city. Those next few weeks were a blur. You lost Noah soon after Beth when they found his home had been overrun, and not too long after that another one of Beth's friends had died. Three people in the matter of weeks had been swept away in front of your eyes. You had seen so much death that the essence of losing was something you were used too. 

The long road ahead of them stretched for miles, and miles. You were tired and so were your companions. Your company was not unnoticed by them and they knew they could never abandon you or leave you because you were all alive and together for a reason. The priest was the only one to try and talk to you, seeing as the rest of the group were more than fine never speaking to him. You took his company with grace and tried your best to talk with him.

“You’ve been wearing a ring since we met you” he said, glancing down at the emerald diamond on your finger. He had given that to you five years ago, of those three years you spent with him before the world ended two years ago. 

“My husband gave it to me” you told him, he glanced up at me. 

“You look young,” he said. 

“I guess I am.” you told the priest. 

“Where is he now?” he asked, you froze my face reading my uncertainty.

“I don't know” The conversation lulled after that.

*

You sat across from Negan at the dinner place the two of you went too. You had been out of college for a decent amount of time now while Negan was a few years older than you. You were in your late twenties while he was in his late thirties. You met him a few years ago, two to be exact, at your favorite bar. You two hit it off and he worried for a while that his age and how he was a bit older than you would scare you off, it didn't. Now that you had been with him for almost 2 and a half years the lines of age and life blurred and you just cared about being with him. The dinner was nice, soft jazz music filled the restaurant and the quiet talking of others there lulled the atmosphere that you almost didn't notice him bring out the ring. It was a shock to you but you felt instantly happy after seeing what he brought out. 

“Y/N will you make me the happiest man and marry me?” Negan asked, the restaurant filled with happy people turning towards your table. 

“Oh my god! Yes! Yes absolutely!” you told him, launching  from your chair to hug him in the middle of the restaurant. That day was one of the happiest for you, besides your small little wedding the two of you had. It was your parents and your friends gathered in a small courtroom a few months later to officially make you man and wife. Neither of you wanted something big and neither were very religious, so a small court wedding was. The engagement ring of a simple small band with little gems was soon joined by your emerald cut diamond one that smarkled in the sunlight. You wore that ring every day and he wore his band and never once took it off, more than happy to have you and it by his side. 

*

The topic of him never arose again and you knew the others had heard the conversation, given the looks you received from Sasha and Maggie. They both looked as if they wanted to know more, ask about my life before the world ended and before you had met them. You lingered alongside Sasha for a bit, she gave me a questionable look, You okay? I looked up at the gray clouded skies, something was brewing. You nodded back at Sasha solemnly, I'm fine. She nodded her head understanding not wanting to talk anymore about the loss. 

Everything that happened before was just motions, you just went through motions of surviving, but now, now was different. It was really the things you experienced and there were people my age that had also gone through hard times and lost many. You didn't have any room to complain about my losses when everyone had their own experiences with the living dead, and the dead that haunt. 

Surviving that night after the rain poured down on us became our next mission. With the storm it brought a horde of walkers towards the barn we were held up in. The doors had to be held shut by us that night, struggling to hold them with everyone's bodies against each other, the feeling of spirits breaking as we did. When the doors didn't need to be held anymore and everyone collapsed from the exhaustion you curled up on the floor and slept soundly from the exhaustion. 

You woke the next morning to the sun sparkling on your face from the splits in the boarded wall. You sat up, looking around at the others awake and asleep. The day flew by fast for you, the storm's mess and the new man leading you towards his home, you didn't know where the night before and the day's end started or ended. You were at a loss as to what had happened the past couple of weeks, like the rest of them you were going through the motions of surviving. Once you arrived at this new home a twinge in your hard pounded. Something was different about this place about Verginia, something that felt like home. You looked around the area outside the gates, no familiar scents, places or people, but still your heart pounded like it was a new, foreign place.

[lovewash3d-doll]

•.*🩰*.•.Tips on How to Write Consistently .*•🩰*•.

………………………………………………….………………………

I am a person that especially struggles to write consistently: I’ll have a month-long writing phase where I write every day and then months without scribbling a single word. Over the years, I’ve developed some tips and techniques to initiate my writing phases even when I’m in the pirouettes and twirls of stress or a lack of creativity. They may be helpful to you or anyone attempting to write a little more!

1) Mentally Schedule Writing Time 🩰

Scheduling writing time is beyond adding it to your to-do list or planner as it is often left unchecked and forgotten—I’ve very guilty. Instead, you have mentally schedule it and put it in your mentality that you will write today! Tightly affirm that you will write and put it high on your priorities for the day! If writing is an afterthought, it will also be an afterthought before bed and the following day. Determination is really key and so is sticking to your word!

It’s also important to plan writing at reasonable times and for reasonable durations. I tend to plan to write after I finish my schoolwork but, I always end up too worn out and tired and simply slip into to bed. Instead, plan to write at a time where you know you won’t have any distractions or other tasking taking priority. If you’re seeing a friend later, grab your laptop or pen in the two hour period before. If you’re busy for the day, wake up an hour early or sacrifice some of your phone scrolling time for a quick few paragraphs.

Additionally, don’t expect yourself to immediately write for long periods of time or write very much. Unrealistic, unattainable goals can very easily kill your spirits so it’s important to be realistic. Start with 30 minutes and with the goal of writing one scene and naturally, as you get more in the mood, those 30 minutes will expand to an hour or even longer and your story or piece will have a fresh page written soon enough.

2) Books, Movies, & Music🩰

Before attempting to write, I always try to create the perfect atmosphere even if I may not particularly be in the mood! If I want to get in a creative mindset overall, I love reading a book in my genre or watching a tv show or movie that relates to the topic or plot line of my story. I mainly recommend reading a book since absorbing writing is a great way reinforce oneself to write. I also create music playlists for every story and listen to a couple songs before my writing session! It definitely sets the tone and puts me in the mindset of my story!

3) Do a Writing Challenge 🩰

One of my grandest periods of consistant writing was thanks to a writing challenge I did! For a Creative Writing Class project, I decided to follow the writing routines of several authors and blog about my experience. I dedicated at least half an hour every day and my results were fruitful. Not only was it a fun experience but, it also reinforced me to write and I got a lot of insight into different approaches! Any writing challenge is a very good motivator and I highly recommend it! For my challenge, I specifically pulled writing routines from this book (linked).

4) Journal Sessions 🩰

If you especially struggle to carve out large portions of time for your writing on a daily basis, a great tip is using a journal! Whenever you have 10-15 minutes of down time, let your stream of consciousness flow and write any scene or stanza or any part of your larger piece. Don’t worry about its quality: it’s simply important that you scribble something down. Once you have a considerable amount of time to focus on your writing, transfer your notebook writings to your laptop and edit away! After a few quick journal sessions, you’ll have a decent amount of material that you can mold into draft. It’s a lot easier to edit than to stare at a blank page!

5) Trip to Barnes & Nobles 🩰

This is a very niche tip that only applies if you are planning on writing a novel and looking to publish! I love Barnes & Nobles and sometimes, when I’m in a large writing slump, I love visiting a store and taking in the smell of fresh books and tracing book spines on the shelves. Looking at new releases and imagining my own book on those shelves really motivates me to go home and pick up my pen! It reminds me of my goals and sends me into a larger writing phase!

I hope this helps! Reblogs are appreciated! 🩷

XOXO,

lovewashed doll🩰

[eurydicees]

he/she trans butch iwaizumi and transfemme oikawa thoughts

for no reason other than satisfying my own desires and also projecting my own shit onto my fictional besties <3

LONG post under the cut. i cannot express to you enough. LONG post under the cut.

first off. wrote a fic about iwaizumi being genderqueer here. read it. it's influential but ultimately not really relevant to this. but read it anyways. im really proud of it. okay now that the self promo's out of the way!

in my mind palace, iwaizumi is a trans butch lesbian and no amount of cis bullshit telling him that's not allowed is gonna stop him from identifying that way

she starts figuring things out in college: getting to california for undergrad and meeting all the different kinds of people he does--people he never would have met in the world of men's athletics that he was in while in high school--introduces him to all kinds of new ideas, some of them being identities they had never heard of before

sometime in her freshman year someone asks him about pronouns, and it's a question he's never really thought to consider before. he's never had to--pronouns were just words assigned to them that she never really had reason to doubt

and then she starts. thinking about it. and kind of freaking out a little. because oh. there are options. and there are so many of them and it's overwhelming, to have this sudden rush of i don't think i know who i am anymore.

because he's never really had to think about gender or sexuality before: there's never been the space and support and encouragement to experiment, or the terminology in general, or any reason to try experimenting

but his friends encourage him to try things out, little by little. a few friends try out using they/them in private. they like it, most of the time, and it feels like it fits, most of the time, but still it's like. it feels like they're faking it. like it doesn't quite cover the entirety of what they feel--but maybe nothing does, you know?

they try introducing themselves by he/they in classes, instead of just in the privacy of his dorm room. he likes that people mix the two together in the same sentence sometimes. they like that he's not boxing himself into one thing

he's figuring shit out! and the journey kind of sucks because people ask him and he doesn't have answers, he doesn't have solid truth, he just has more questions for himself and he just has more to discover--which is frustrating, most of the time, but it's also fun to experiment, sometimes

it's about trying new clothing--he doesn't love dresses, but skirts with shorts sewn in are okay; crop tops and a carabiner with keys are euphoric--trying new words--he, they, genderqueer, transgender, and more--and trying new names--not a fan of his friends' suggestions, which are mostly english word names that he kind of fumbles around saying

notable that he's friends with a decent number of queer people who are so encouraging and supportive of everything they're trying out that it constantly amazes him and sometimes kind of makes him want to cry a little

also notable. he kind of. doesn't tell oikawa about any of this. they just...don't know how to.

she starts trying out she/her pronouns in her junior year of college. this starts , entirely coincidentally, a few months before oikawa comes out to him

oikawa does it quietly, without fanfare, nearly without the confidence to even say the words. she's clearly worried about what iwaizumi is going to think--they didn't grow up in a world where things like being trans or a lesbian were talked about, or were considered options for the two of them

but just as iwaizumi has been experimenting in california, oikawa has discovered an entirely new queer community in argentina, and she's discovered herself in anew just as iwaizumi has

and it doesn't change anything really, oikawa promises, again and again. she's still tooru. she's still the best friend iwaizumi has always had. she's still playing men's volleyball. she presents herself differently, now, when she can, but--

but also, in presenting differently, there's a new confidence about her. there's a new sense of self. there's a new comfort in her own body, now that she has the words to love it right, and--

and iwaizumi gets that. he doesn't want to tell oikawa just then, because oikawa is clearly nervous and this is her moment, of sorts, but now iwaizumi knows that--if they ever get brave enough--it really would be okay to say it

anyways. iwaizumi starts using she/her in addition to he and they and just. she kind of loves it.

most of the time, she doesn't love looking feminine, and that kind of . she doesn't really know how to explain that, doesn't really have the words for it

he likes being perceived a girl, but he doesn't like looking feminine. he likes being seen as masculine, but he thinks if one more person calls him a young man he's going to scream out loud

(he does kind of like fucking with people though. it gives them a little bit of gender euphoria when someone stutters through a list of pronouns, not sure what to use, looking her up and down, until giving up and landing on just his name. it maybe feels mean but it's also a little funny and really validating.)

so its like. she doesn't really know what to do with any of that. they/them feels a little too malleable, in a way. it's not really anything against the word so much as it is that people use it to cop out of calling her "she", and that's just...frustrating. because "she" fits so well on days when she's dressed masc and "he" feels so good when he's in lipstick and a skirt.

(i ran out of characters allowed in one post block apparently. so i am breaking up the list here. oh my god. i can't believe i ran out of characters. jesus fucking christ.)

anyways! it's when he comes out to oikawa that things kind of. fall into his hands and she goes oh. so this is okay. i'm allowed to have this: the unknowns, the multiplicities, the undecideds, the contradictions.

he doesn't really mean to come out. it happens casually: oikawa makes some reference to iwaizumi being cis, and iwaizumi tells her that that's not quite right. he's not sure what he is, but it's...not cis man.

she doesn't really know how to explain that to oikawa, who has become so comfortable in her gender when she's around iwaizumi, but iwaizumi figures she might as well know now. he's always trusted oikawa with everything, and he's not quite sure why this should have ever been different

anyways. oikawa tells iwaizumi something sappy, first, and something kind, second, and something annoying, when iwaizumi teases her for the first two

and when iwaizumi confesses his own unsureness, oikawa says something else along the lines of it's not really about what people tell you your labels should be when you look like yourself. it's about the words you use when you tell them to fuck off.

it makes iwaizumi laugh, and that was the main goal, really, but also iwaizumi is thinking about it long after they hang up their video call

he's been so caught up in "so, uh, what pronouns do you use?" and "hajime, do you want me to set your preferences to male or female or both when i make your tinder account for you?"

his answers have always been so relative to what he wants people to think when they look at her ("they or he are fine i guess" and "fuck off, give me my phone back"), but maybe it's less about that, for her

(this may not be true of everyone, but things start to fall into place when she moves her thought process just a little to the left)

maybe it's less about what he's letting other people see in her presentation, and more about what it is he owns about her own gender

so what does she like about it? what brings her comfort and joy? and what completely shatters all the expectations and preconceptions put on him that she hates so much?

he doesn't really come to a decision about any of those things in one night

but he tells oikawa she/he are what make him feel the most confident in his body and his heart, even if it's scary to say that out loud

the word butch comes not long after that, and he's not sure if it fits perfectly, but it's the first word to come along that feels like it captures the duality of masculine and woman that lives in him, instead of just reaching one or the other, if that makes sense

he's not sure any of it does, but he's decided she doesn't care if it makes sense or if it's "allowed" in the eyes of people who see transness as a uniform look and lesbianism as an exclusive club

it's not about what people tell her she's allowed to be, looking and talking and acting like that, you know? it's about what words he uses to make them respect her, looking and talking and acting just as she damn well pleases.

[hatchetfield-omegaverse]

I love this au so much I didn't even know I needed it until I found your blog. Would you be willing to share some lautski headcannons?

I totally can! I love lautski so much. If they have no shippers, I am dead.

Hatchetfield Omegaverse Headcanons: Lautski!! <3

Much like in npmd, they officially meet because Steph was in desperate need of a tutor and Pete is the smartest person in the class, if not the whole school.

She was under the impression that Pete was a Beta at first since he wears scent perfume.

Steph realized that he was an Omega when a study session ran late and the perfume wore off.

Pete was nervous how she'd react but she reassured him that it was cool and she wouldn't make fun of him for it.

If anything she was glad because a lot of the guy Alphas and a decent portion of the betas at their school were weirded out by the idea of dating a female Alpha. Especially a Type 1 at that.

They're first date was to a drive in theater that was having an 80s movie marathon.

They have a disgusting amount of PDA. They're always kissing or hugging or holding hands.

They're also incredibly sappy. Pet names, compliments, gifts, you name it they've done it.

It would be incredibly annoying if not for the fact that it's obvious that they're just genuinely in love.

They always steal each other's clothes. All the time.

Steph can and has come to school in Pete's sweaters.

Solomon doesn't really care where Steph is so long as she isn't damaging his reputation so they have sleepovers all the time.

Pete loves playing with Steph's hair. He practices all kinds of hairstyles to try for her.

Steph is very possessive of him. She's just like “This is my amazing boyfriend. He's so cool and I love him so much and he's mine.” Meanwhile all of her friends are just like “Okay…”.

They have plans to get married as soon as they graduate. They know they're young but they want forever with each other.

I hope you liked this! I love lautski, and I have so many hcs for them. If you have a request, send it in, and if you'd like, please feel free to specify if you want SFW OR NSFW hcs only. Otherwise, you might get a mix.

[heilos]

Hello! My name is Moriah and I am a junior in high school. I was wondering if I might be able to get your insight on a few questions I have?

I am in my final years of high school and am starting to think about college but I have no idea what I want to pursue. I know I love art, so for a long time I have been thinking about getting an art major or going to an art school.

I’m reaching out because I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR ART and I think you are a very talented artist! I have been in love with your art for so long and I am curious and wondering how you are able to fit drawing into your life?

1.) If you went to college for art, what was it like? Do you think going to school for art or having an art major is worth it?

2.) how can I fit art into my everyday life? I’m sure you have work and other things to do in your life so how do you balance it out? (I just want to know how you can draw as much as you do!)

3.) do you do art as a full-time career or part-time career? is it an alright source of income? If it is a part-time career, how do you balance work, personal life, and art?

Thank you so much! And sorry if these questions might seem personal. I just want to know how other artist manage to draw and create their work and still have an adult life. Thanks again, and thank you for being a huge inspiration in my life to create the art I love! Your art means so much to me!❤️❤️ ❤️

Hi Moriah! Thank you so much for your patience since it took me a bit to answer this. I'll do my best to be as honest as possible. 1) I think going to college can be beneficial even if I wish i'd done things differently. In hindsight I would have definitely taken more time to really look through all available options instead of gunning straight for the most "prestigious" looking colleges since the idea of having a big name school on your resume was pretty prevalent when I was growing up. I went to Savannah College of Art and Design or SCAD for short and while I don't regret the friends I made there, I do regret not understanding just how much an institution like that ended up costing in loans compared to what I got out of it education wise. It always hurts my heart to see other kids get chained to huge amounts of student loan debt that could have been avoided. And even then you don't necessarily need a college degree for every type of art job. Your portfolio is what really matters more to prospective work places if you're looking at a career related to art. I would also keep in mind that the field is very competitive depending on what your goals are. Do you want to get into animation? game design? illustration? comics? prop design, character design or environment design? ect ect. Always try and give yourself the best advantage you can with researched knowledge of what you might be getting yourself into. Also there is no rush to go immediately into college even if you're dead set on wanting to attend one. Please give yourself as much time as you need to really make that decision and, if you have the option, don't feel pressured into thinking you HAVE to make that choice immediately out of high school. 2) I do get quite a bit of production art done on my days off mostly since I'm very experienced in working on group projects like Mystery Skulls Animated. When you're doing art and production work with other people, there's a different mindset in that others are relying on you to keep decently productive so that you're not holding up the pipeline if you're dedicated to seeing a project through to completion. Now when it comes to purely fun art on the side, I've actually only recently started balancing my time out better with work to sketch since the draw back of working on a group project like this for so long is a certain level of burn out. I had about a 2-3 year period where I couldn't get myself to draw much of anything even if I was excited about something like a new game or animated series and it's taken awhile to come to terms with the time lost since my body and head needed that time to recover and that's something i'm much more ok with now. I'm not the absolute best on advice for time management unfortunately, but seeking out projects that might interest you and lets you collaborate with other artists is definitely one way to keep yourself excited and engaged when wanting to make art. Just know and/or learn your limits and you'll be better about not getting too burned out when trying to find that decent balance of art time and other life activities. 3) I actually don't do art full time even if that was originally the plan back in college. I personally found out that I didn't want to turn it into a job the closer graduation came, but that varies completely from person to person and plenty of up and coming artists have found fulfillment in having art be their job too. I used to make prints for conventions so that was a partial income source for a little bit, but again for me it got tiring and I ended up getting a different more physical job to supplement my income while still being able to have enough time to stick around with my friend group on our music video projects. And again there's no shame in taking some time in trying to figure out if you want to make art your job and coming to a different conclusion. Sometimes the things we plan when we're younger take a wildly different turn out of left field and education or job aspirations are very much included in that.

[mothdapple]

My ideal Squirrelstar nine lives ceremony

I sorta wanted to write out this scene since we didn't get to see it in the books, but I also sorta didn't want to completely commit to writing it since I'm feeling lazy lol. So this is choppier and more unpolished than my usual writing.

I did at least put a decent amount of thought into life attributes which were both appropriate for Squirrelflight (highlighting her strengths or something that she should work on) and thematically appropriate for the cats giving them.

1. Firestar: Love.

The first cat that stepped out of the crowd of spirits had a familiar fiery orange pelt. Squirrelflight purred, feeling like a kit again as she tucked her head under her father’s chin.

“Firestar,” she murmured. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s wonderful to see you too,” Firestar said, pulling his head back.

He blinked down at her, a gentle look in his bright green eyes. “Are you ready for your first life?”

Squirrelflight inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. “I am.”

Firestar purred. “My daughter, nothing brings me more joy or pride than passing the Clan that was once my ward into your capable paws. Cherish it and love it as I love you, and you love your family in return.” He dipped his head, touching his nose to hers. “I give you this life for love.”

2. Sandstorm: Strength/energy.

A pale ginger figure joined them before Firestar had even stepped back. Squirrelflight purred loudly in greeting as Sandstorm brushed her pelt against hers, purring and twining around her.

“Hi Mom," Squirrelflight said. "I've missed you too."

"Hello, Squirrelflight," Sandstorm said as she pulled away to face her. "You always surprised me when you were a kit, but you continue to defy expectations even now."

Squirrelflight's whiskers twitched in amusement. "And, that's a good thing...?"

Sandstorm arched a brow.

"I suppose that depends on your perspective," she said, lightly teasing. "All I can tell you is my own: by the time I was your age, my bones were tired, and I’d already become an elder. Now I know you’ve always had more energy than me, Squirrelflight— more energy than most cats in fact! But, you’ll need that vigor now more than ever as you become ThunderClan’s leader."

Sandstorm leaned forward to press her muzzle to hers, and Squirrelflight noticed a spark of ferocity in her mother's eyes. "With this life, I give you that strength.”

3. Dustpelt: Mentorship.

Dustpelt strode towards her, his chin held high. Squirrelflight blinked fondly at her old mentor.

"It's also good to see you," she said as he reached her.

Dustpelt just inclined his head in response.

"Squirrelflight," he said, not wasting time on frivolous greetings. “With this life, I give you mentorship. Use it to guide your Clan wisely—” Dustpelt shot her a knowing look, “—even when it’s acting like an unruly apprentice.”

Squirrelflight mrrowed with laughter. She was still purring even as he touched his nose to hers, and the life flooded through her.

4. Feathertail: Perspective.

Squirrelflight purred at the sight of her old friend.

"Feathertail," she said as she reached her. "It's been far too long."

Feathertail blinked at her fondly. "It has, hasn't it? You've accomplished so much since we last saw each other."

Squirrelflight's belly twisted in an old grief.

"But you should have been there to accomplish it too," she murmured.

Feathertail shook her head.

"I've long since come to terms with the lot I had in my life," she said. "At least my death helped you all finish the journey and led to where you are now. Are you ready for your next life?"

Squirrelflight nodded. Feathertail dipped her silver and black striped head to gently touch her nose to Squirrelflight's.

“I give this life for perspective," she said. "It’s easy for Clan cats to see everything from their narrow point-of-view: what’s best for me or for ThunderClan. But you and I have seen more of this world than most during our adventures, and we know it pays to be compassionate, even to those foreign to us. None of us are really so different from each other."

5. Shrewpaw: Foresight.

Squirrelflight purred to see her friend from apprentice-hood approach next. "Hello, Shrewpaw."

Shrewpaw's gaze glinted with amusement as he looked at her.

"I always knew you were going to end up being important one day," he teased. "You're way too bossy, stubborn, and full of yourself to not to."

"Hey!" Squirrelflight said in mock offense. "You better watch yourself! You know, this is the almost-leader of ThunderClan you're talking to."

He tilted his head to the side, a challenge in his expression.

"But you're no true leader without StarClan-given lives, and I'm here with a life for you... so..."

Squirrelflight's eyes narrowed. "Are you holding this life over me?"

Shrewpaw's whiskers quivered in amusement, but he licked his paw in a show of disinterest and drew it over his face. "Maybe."

"You fox-heart," Squirrelflight said, but she wasn't able to swallow back her purrs.

"Mouse-brain," Shrewpaw fired back.

He finally closed the last few tail-lengths of distance between them, his expression growing solemn.

"Are you ready for your next life?" he asked.

Squirrelflight nodded, and Shrewpaw touched his muzzle to hers.

“You and I got into a lot of mischief when we were young with our impulsive, mouse-brained decisions," he said softly. "But, with a whole Clan relying on you, it pays to be thoughtful. I give you this life for foresight.”

His life flowed into her, sweeping her into a vision. Her belly was cramped in hunger as she streaked after a massive bird. There was just one thought in her mind: I need to catch it. I need to catch it.

She was so focused on the bird, she didn't even see the monster coming. One bolt of agony laced through her entire body, and then there was only numbness.

Squirrelflight blinked out of the vision, horror prickling her fur.

I just watched the last moments of Shrewpaw's life.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Shrewpaw shook his head. "Don't be. Just don't repeat my mistakes."

Shrewpaw began to pad away. “Remember to look before you leap, alright?” he added from over his shoulder.

“I’ll do my best,” Squirrelflight murmured.

6. Purdy: Patience.

An old brown tom ambled out of the crowd. The friendly look on his face eased some the pain of the life given by Shrewpaw.

"How are ya feelin'?" Purdy asked, gazing at Squirrelflight in concern.

Squirrelflight cleared her throat.

"I'm hanging in there," she rasped.

Purdy nodded.

"You're more than halfway done!" he encouraged. "Are you ready now for my life?"

Squirrelflight braced herself. "Yes."

Purdy touched his nose to hers.

“With this life, I give you patience.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “It can sometimes be as challenging and frustrating to lead a Clan as it is to guide a group of hot-headed warriors through a twolegplace. But, have patience for ThunderClan during the challenging times.”

7. Dandelionkit and Juniperkit: Wonder.

"Mom! Mom!"

The voices immediately yanked at Squirrelflight's attention. A pair of kits were sprinting towards her. A painful rush of joy and grief flooded through Squirrelflight's body. A purr bursting from her throat, she ran forward to meet them. She rasped her tongue over Dandelionkit's and Juniperkit's faces as they circled around her paws.

"My kits," Squirrelflight purred. "My sweet babies. Oh, I've missed you."

"We missed you too!" Dandelionkit said, burying her face in her belly fur.

"But, we know why you had to go back," Juniperkit said, blinking up at her. "And, now you're going to be ThunderClan's leader!"

"And, we get to give you a life!" Dandelionkit squeaked, bouncing with excitement.

"Are you ready?" Juniperkit asked, his little head tilting to the side.

"Yes, of course," Squirrelflight said softly.

She crouched so Juniperkit and Dandelionkit were able to both press their muzzles to her head.

“We give you a life for wonder. Being a leader won’t always be easy,” Juniperkit said, his young voice filled with a wisdom beyond his moons. “But when things are hard, do not forget the blessings within and around you and our Clanmates.”

Dandelionkit blinked at her, a sparkle in her green eyes. “Instead, try looking at the world from a perspective of a kit, and reminding yourself of all the amazing things out there, be it a juicy mouse or the first blossom of newleaf!”

8. Hollyleaf: Forgiveness.

A shadow slipped from the crowd of starry warriors.

"Hi Squirrelflight," she said in a small voice.

"Hollyleaf," Squirrelflight breathed.

Every hair on her pelt ached as it had with Dandelionkit and Juniperkit. She wanted to rush to Hollyleaf as she'd done with them and cover her face in licks, but Squirrelflight stilled her paws. She didn't know if Hollyleaf would appreciate such a gesture.

There was so much still unresolved between them. The time during which Hollyleaf had returned to ThunderClan after the secret reveal had been so brief, and Squirrelflight's time with her in StarClan after she'd been badly injured had been even shorter. A part of Squirrelflight still didn't know where she stood in the eyes of her adoptive daughter.

But, Hollyleaf seemed to be almost equally as unsure of her, since she hung back instead of approaching right away as the other StarClan cats had.

"I need to ask, because I wasn't sure..." Hollyleaf murmured, shuffling her paws awkwardly. "I mean... Do you want me to be the one who gives your next life?"

"Of course!" Squirrelflight exclaimed, her ears angling back at the implication otherwise.

Hollyleaf dipped her head, staring down at her paws.

“Very well then," she said in a low voice. She breathed in deeply. "With this life, I give you forgiveness. I was hurting in the last few moons I was alive, but the way I acted wasn’t right. It only served to hurt myself, you, and the rest of our family— the cats who I care about the most. Do not do as I did and allow anger and stubbornness to blind you when you feel wronged. Instead forgive, and learn to ask for forgiveness in return.”

Hollyleaf finally lifted her gaze to blink at her, a seasons-old grief and regret swimming in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Squirrelflight inhaled sharply, her chest aching.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she whispered. “I love you so much, Hollyleaf. No matter what, you will always be my daughter.”

A rough purr rumbling in her throat, Hollyleaf finally stepped forward, pressing her face to hers. As they rubbed their cheeks and temples together, the life roared through Squirrelflight like a hurricane.

9. Leafpool: Unshakable Morals.

Finally, a small brown tabby padded out from the crowd. Squirrelflight’s heart swelled with love as she watched her sister approach her.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured.

Leafpool’s face was full of affection as she looked at her, but there was also a steely glint of certainty in her eyes.

“I have too,” Leafpool said. “But my journey was over. Yours, though, is still continuing, and there is so much good left for you do for ThunderClan as its leader.”

Leafpool touched her nose to hers, her amber eyes staring deeply into Squirrelflight’s green. “I give you your final life for unshakable morals. You’re a wonderful cat, Squirrelflight, and an even better sister. You’ve always done what you believe is right, no matter what anyone else thought. Never let anyone or anything corrupt your ability to follow your heart.”

Squirrelflight closed her eyes, drinking in her sister’s blessing eagerly, even though she knew like the others, this life would come with pain.

She was swept into a vision. Flashes of their life together, from kit-hood to apprenticeship, flickered rapidly before Squirrelflight. She saw herself leaving with Brambleclaw on the journey, sadness pressing heavy on Leafpaw. Then she saw them reuniting, joy as brilliant as the sun rushing through Leafpaw. Until finally, from Leafpool’s eyes, she saw her giving three little kits over to Squirrelflight. Pain clawed at Leafpool's heart but alongside it, determination that they were doing the right thing.

In the visions, those kits grew up into noble cats that she was so proud of even now, and Squirrelflight still knew that they had made the right choice. Even after all the turmoil it caused in their lives, even after StarClan themselves had put them on trial for it— she and her sister had done their best with what they knew at the time to give those three innocent, little kits the best lives they could.

As the visions at last faded, Squirrelflight’s eyes opened to see that Leafpool’s muzzle was still pressed to hers.

“I don’t regret a thing,” Leafpool whispered.

Squirrelflight’s purr was thick with emotion as she responded. “Me neither.”

Leafpool purred too, and finally, she stepped back, lifting her chin.

“I hail you by your new name, Squirrelstar! Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of ThunderClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity.”

Leafpool threw her head back.

“Squirrelstar! Squirrelstar!”

[fagcrisis]

poppy war thoughts, aka this book was so bad it made me want to get a goodreads account just so i can shit on it in an official capacity

so what initially sold me on this book, is that despite my friend ellis absolutely hating rf kuang's babel, ive only ever seen raving reviews for it anywhere else, and a brief description of its magic system reminded me of gergő és az álomfogók. i love that mainstream fantasy is finally starting to rely on drawing from cultures other than the sort of western mainstream and i was actually super excited to get into it. well it sucked (this contains spoilers obviously)

its 11 am this is not gonna be very structured but let me start off by listing some things i did enjoy. first of all its low hanging fruit and im better than this so im only gonna shit on tpw for being so directly about the sino chinese war that the only actual interesting bits of exposition in the book was what was just a description of actual events a Little bit. listen lotr is about ww2. its fine its all fine. anyway, i had fun with the bits of worldbuilding that were yk, actually worldbuilding. the magic system was really interesting and just super not explored enough, the book handled drug addiction about as sensitively as the dare program, but nevertheless it was a cool concept. shamans who have to get high as hell do do anything and then putting those guys in a combat setting is crazy. really fun concept. speaking of shamans i loved jiang. his archetype is impossible to fuck up and he was loveable and fun till the very end. uhh what else. the fight descriptions were good its something kuangs is decent at, as someone whos watched just truly an inordinate amount of wuxia as a child i rly can appreciate a stupid convoluted fight scene. oh i found it hysterical that the west was just one country that was really fun.

NOW ONTO THE SHIT I HATED

rin is incredibly unlikeable i know its not the point of every book ok but tpw isnt good enough to have a protagonist who is just impossible to relate to this isnt 1984 okay this is contemporary ya. i GET that she sucks and thats the point but im supposed to emphatize with her and throughout the book she just seemed stupid and easy to manipulate and not very interesting. shes an incredibly shallow character which is i guess what happens when you base your ya teenage girl protagonist on CHAIRMAN OF THE COMMUNIST PARTY MAO ZEDONG. HELLO. anyway. all her personal relationships are very much carried by the strenght of the characters close to her, and because most characters in this book are not very interesting that makes for a shitty fucking protagonist.

most of the conflict in this book is extremely artificially generated until maybe the second half of part 3. everyone in rins life is unnessecarily mean to her because shes just so smart and good at things. the part where they accused her of cheating on the exams and she owned them like crazy came to define much of the book. some kind of mean cunt whose purpose in life is to cause misery is an asshole to rin bc shes so smart and strong and talented, and she owns them with a witty remark. she punches nezha on the first day of school for fucks sake.

speaking of the school, the majority of the book is spent at sinegard academy and it is an extremely predictable and dull affair. i long for the wizard of earthsea. kuang is not a very good writer on a technical level and everything that she tries to imply she ends up spelling out (usually by having a character say it out loud) only a couple pages later. you can get through 2/3rds of this book by just reading every other page and correctly guessing what has happened and what will happen. in possibly the funniest paragraph of part 2, rin thinks about how everybody thinks altan is the coolest guy and yet he has no friends and at this point shes been experiencing quite severe racism from all of her peers and then instead of leaving you to figure out the quite obvious conclusion kuang literally has her say "oh his skin is dark and mine is too. i wonder if he knows what racism is like" just, truly hysterical.

her feud with nezha is unbearable, i knew immediately that he would become a romantic interest because a ya protagonist cannot hate a boy for perfectly good reasons. it always has to be bc shes horny. anyways thankfully when she starts studying with jiang, jiang is there and the terrible dullness of it all is lifted somewhat

as i mentioned before, the actual historical elements in the book elevate it greatly and the third part is almost enjoyable in some sections. however, unfortunately, this is also the part of the book where rin and altans darkling situation begins. i have a sinking feeling altan may not have died, which sucks because i hated this bit. they have virtually no relationship to eachother except altan yelling at rin occasionally. now again there were bits and pieces of their relationship that i didnt quite hate, but honestly i still dont entirely buy the rin is a seerly thing emotionally because she is so detached from it. the revelation only seemed to shock her a little bit and then she was busy with being at war and her boss hating her, when she actually gains the power of the phoenix at the very end its her own hatred and egoism fueling her rather than any connection to her people. overall this again comes back to her being quite weak as a character, and the worldbuilding suffers as a result of that

in any case, ill mull over continuing the series. the ending was actually quite strong i love a genocide as a result of being a stupid fucking 19 year old (dont quote me on this please), so maybe the next one is better maybe ms kuang learned to write inbetween these 2.

[cheetahgirlju]

The Mr. Darcy Standard

Every night, my friends and I spend a good amount of time discussing numerous topics. One of our top conversations last night still lingers in my head. The topic of standards. Growing up on romantic movies like Pride and Prejudice has lifted the bar. Men don’t act like they did in the early 2000s films. They don't chase you around New York begging for your attention. They don't fall in love with you so hard that they have to outburst their feelings in the rain because their love has become too overpowering. It's so disappointing how through time women have had to lower their standards to achieve the most average men.

You're telling me Noah built Allie a house after not seeing her for years, wrote her a letter every day for a year, and waited for her, but my first date was walking to Jack in the Box and the liquor store. I'm not asking for the world, I'm just asking for a decent feeling of actual attraction to males. I know how annoying it is to get the ick for every man. As Snookie said, “Guys are douchebags and I hate them all, they don't know how to deal with women, and that's why the lesbian rate is going up in this country.” I feel as though real love is only constructed by intellectual people, and how many intellectual men are left in the world?

I just want to feel wanted and yearned for. That may be corny but EVERYTHING is painted as corny nowadays. Maybe that's the reason it's so hard for men to be romantic. They probably fear embarrassment but maybe it'll be less embarrassing when you're really really in love. Sometimes I feel as if I'm the issue. Maybe my standards are too high but I fully believe that if someone like Nicholas Sparks can write ‘The Notebook’, then not all hope is lost.

I want the old timey type of love that feels as if it could last forever. I would gladly take what Mr. Big and Carrie had because even though they fought a lot, there was still genuine love there. I genuinely tear up thinking about the possibility of me being alone or even worse feeling alone. Growing up with nothing but toxic relationships as a guide for love, I now just want to know if it's real. I’m tired of boys, bring the men in.

I always try to see from a man’s point of view but I refuse to put myself in incompetent shoes. If The Notebook is unrealistic and I'll never achieve that level of love, even without the house, without the rain, without the letters, and without the book, I’m just talking about their love. Is that so unrealistic? Is love dead? I don’t care if this is corny because this topic spirals through my head constantly. I wonder if I'm wasting time. Will I ever love someone that deeply? I’m not desperate for just anyone. I'm desperate for that feeling, that's why I never have deep connections with men. Because why am I going to waste time with something I don’t deserve. I deserve to be wanted and pursued, but more than that I deserve the mixture of simplicity and complexity that comes with loving someone. Maybe I am desperate, let’s hope my longing will help me in the long haul.

This is just my personal diary and my personal manifestation book where I allow myself to have opinions and allow others to either agree or disagree. So I'll end this by asking if there are any real Mr. Darcy’s and Mr. Bigs out there. I'm not asking for the exact love they had, I'm just asking for their desperation and most importantly their intimacy. Complex and in love. I'll update if I ever get this lol or maybe i'm just delusional.

- By Me <3

[outivv]

to other anon star rail revenue suffering compared to previous months is because they for some reason decided to put some of thee most skippable units(from fanbase perspective)back to back after firefly like jade only really shines in one game mode and that’s straight up not good enough for most people(unless you’re a desperate blade main because he’s suffering rn)especially when 1.x units can still clear in all modes fairly decently(well like..except blade LOL😭😭)

and she came right after firefly who probably made hsr closer to 120+~mil if we go by sensory towers method ie “we dont have access to android,pc and console revenue so we let you do calculations to see what the revenue earned this month MIGHT have looked like if we did have access to these”(another side note eek but gawd as someone who used to play hi3 i mourn the fact ff got a miles better kit than hofi kiana yknow the character hoyo openly calls their daughter😭)

Yunli while good is literally just clara but a slight bit better which while we dont know how much she made yet acheron and firefly very much so have affected how people will look at new dps because of just how broken they are so(the genshin equivalent of this would be neuvillette and mualani where shes maybe looking to be around top dps wise but shes not at his level so a decent amount of people automatically disregard her)

Jiaoqiu while not as bad as people made him out to be is still not a must grab either and is more than likely going to be skippable to meta slaves and the casual very limited amount jades players so already at a disadvantage esp with leakers constantly going “oh oh MAYBE sunday will be in 2.6 oh oh maybe he’ll be in 2.7🤭”so unless hardcore fans,people who roll for any man in the game because they are in a drought compared to 1.x days ,or just anyone who’s that desperate for a support clutch it star rail is going to drip back into its usual revenue unless they decide last minute to make feixiao broken or decide to roll out the red carpet for sunday sooner rather than later

(anways lol sorry tgis is so long i nerd out when it comes to these things)

Totally cool I love when people nerd out cause then it gives me an excuse to be a fucking nerd too BAHHAHAHA

Jade is genuinely garbage I am not even gonna lie. Her design isn’t that good, her character? Racist BAHAGAH, her kit? Bro she’s not even like sparkle where she’s like a terrible character but her kit is suuuuper good, she’s just like not very good all around, so that does make sense as to why she’s just… no one spent on her unless they were gooners tbh

Blade is suffering so bad… like omfg- I used to main blade and holy shit he just can’t. Like he cannot do the dmg he needs to unless you run him with jingliu imo because of how she takes hp away, and blade’s main dmg source is from his fua cause it’s an all hitting attack. Hope blade gets some kinda buff or something with a character like jingliu who takes hp away slowly but is actually a buffer- ooooo.

I think yunli is relatively good, I’ve seen my friend who’s got a very f2p build on her do like 1.5 mil with her, but that’s also cause of their own insane supports BAHAHAH. Idk what most meta players think of her, because personally I don’t care about the meta. Bitch I main Argenti and Boothill, I do NOT care about meta. But, yunli like you said- is still just slight better Clara, and I believe most people have Clara cause she was soooo big in early stage meta, so it’s like… why get yunli is Clara already does the job, unless you just like yunli which is fair cause she’s a cute character.

Jiaoqiu feels like… like like like- topaz kinda. Like I feel like he’ll be great later on, and while he has uses now- especially for buffing the FUCK out of Acheron, I feel like they’ll be like “look at this specific meta we’re making so now Jiaoqiu is more useful :3” cause he just feels so strange now, even if he’s quickly become one of my personal favs 😔

But most people are skipping him, I know I am- and I’m skipping him for feixiao cause from what I’ve seen of her she’s stupidly broken ☺️🫶

Like STUPIDLY broken; fuck- fucking imagine her with Robin? Stupid dmg, but we don’t know her scaling yet, she just looks actually abysmal AHAHAH especially when paired with Moze (who I’m hella excited for :3)

Sunday has been confirmed by leakers to likely not be in 2.6 or 2.7 and if he were to be in either patches (this is my opinion) it would be 2.7 I think, since either 2.7 or 2.8 will be likely the last patch of 2.x and then it’ll be 3.0 so even more reason for people to save, since 3.0 is pretty much right around the corner :P

[llondonfog]

lettie i need an expert opinion. how does one enjoy tea?

i need warm drinks for a medical thing, but oh my god. i am having no luck with tea. i never have. coffee is not an option, and while i do enjoy hot chocolate, it's not something i can drink every day.

any advice would be lovely.

allow me to wax poetically (and hopefully practically) about tea (and i do hope it helps and eases your medical strains <3)

this might sound a little silly, but for me, tea enjoyment starts with the ritual of it all. heating water up in a kettle (mine's pink, naturally...i cling to the aesthetic...), selecting a tea from my pantry shelf that's entirely devoted to many loose leaf types and flavors, measuring it out into a tea infuser, selecting a cup or mug that matches the mood i'm feeling, setting a timer for however long that tea is meant to steep, and then finally settling into a steaming mug that i've prepared for myself by curling up with a book, putting on a show i've been meaning to watch, or simply opening the windows and watching the world outside while my cat sits next to me.

i say all of this because, again, it might sound silly, but it's part of a calming ritual helps me either start the day when i get up early before work, settles me from the frustrations and hectic demands of work when i get home, soothes me before bed, or when i'm making it for friends and family, an act of love where each detail is cared for so that i can savor the delight of the person i'm entertaining. i know this isn't much about flavors/types, which i suspect is where you might be headed, but i think it's equally as important because tea preparation can take anywhere between 5-10 minutes, and those minutes should be yours to center yourself.

now, for tea types: (important because tea can be ridiculously expensive and why waste your money on something you won't even reach for twice speaks from devastated experience and tea betrayals)

real quick to touch on before the flavor profile breakdown; tea types differ in caffeine widely. depending on what your goal is with tea, it can have a negative effect on your sleeping schedule (black/matcha- surprisingly high depending on the amount) if you drink concentrated volumes closer to bedtime

i have an awful penchant for black teas— i find them to be full-bodied and with such interesting, heavy flavors that i gravitate to them naturally. since they can be so biting and bitter though, i know many people might choose to soften the tea with sugar or honey to your taste preferences, but....i really just enjoy it plain, i don't tend to alter the taste of my teas if at all. there's been a wide range of tea companies/grocers in general carrying london fog or chai tea mixes in cartons at the store? i've seen them in walmart/krogers/target, and they're fairly decent? rishi and target's brand of london fog mix definitely ties for first place for me if i have to make it quickly at home lol

herbals/greens can be a hit and miss— i really dislike the heavily flavored teas that just have essential oils and shit added to them to make the flavors more pungent, i never enjoy those lol i tend to reach for these though when i'm feeling like i have a cold or like now when i'm currently cramping. a good friend sent me some maple herbal tea from the adirondack, and i'm mourning my last cup of it as it literally has carried me through so many awful period cycles. again, these teas can be flavored with sugar or honey just to add to their sweetness, but i really don't find it necessary as i prefer the original taste of the tea.

white and oolongs are probably my second favorite, but they can be very...light in flavor, almost aromatic instead of bodied. it can sometimes feel like you're drinking heated water with a floral aftertaste and hey, on some days, maybe that's just what you want lol. (again, sweeten how/to your desire, i just prefer not to do so.)

and matcha is a class all on its own lol i know it can be very divisive tea depending on the amount of sweetening you do or don't since it can be almost...fishy? if that's a good way to describe it? this is the only tea i'll add a LOT of sugar/simple syrup to when i order it. my mother thinks it is a bastardized foul but i'll order a 24 oz matcha with 3 pumps of rosewater syrup and it is honestly fixes whatever the hell is wrong with me (for at least 24 hours lol). i wouldn't advise for the matcha premixes in the cartons at the grocery store, i've tried a few and...bleh. there's something so artificial about them (i say, slurping a sugarfied sludge of matcha and rose).

so i literally am opening my pantry to list out a few and their types that i enjoy, to hopefully give a sense of their flavors:

queue mignonne tea, yuzu & earl grey— this one has such a pleasant citrus kick to a typical earl grey flavor, i love it in the mornings to wake up the senses!

maple herbal tea— a mix of chamomile, rooibos, sunflower, calendula, and maple; instantly soothed my aches and cramps, but it could have been a placebo effect just because i loved this tea so damn much lol

sleepytime tea by celestial seasonings— i can't explain this tea haha it's the tea from my childhood. my father would always make this for me when i was sick and i just associate it with warmth.

milk oolong/double milk oolong— has a meaty flavor? literally the only way i can explain it, very deep and heavy on the tongue. but it's one i reach for when i have cramps too, and it's a good staple i keep around.

ma wei moonlight & white peony— VERY LIGHT flavor teas; floral and sweet in nature, moonlight is heavy gardenia scented while the peony is....peony lol.

olbas wellness tea— THIS IS NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED. this is a swiss herbal tea of over 20 different herbs that i swear to god, will knock your sinuses clear open within five seconds of inhaling/drinking. a little, A LITTLE!! goes such a long way with this tea, it's got such a pungent and unique flavor, i literally just keep it around for the winter to knock myself back into coherence lol

and as a fun little extra, i have to say that my favorite hot drink outside of tea (if it's a possibility for you) is wassail, especially now in the wintertime. it's a recipe from my grandmother and a little different than what you might find online, but basically cider and fruit juice, an orange studded with cloves, cinnamon sticks, and cooked in a crock pot for at least four hours before enjoying; it literally is a balm for the soul, and i'm more than happy to share the full recipe if it's of any interest<3

did this answer anything or did i simply ramble on about tea......

[buggerzz]

any product recs/stuff that makes ur life easier for a struggling disabled artist ? orz

I dont have much money so i have not bought a lot of things-

With my joint issues, it helps to wear compression stuff. Especially gloves. Trust me. Its worth it.

Generally bracing, i usually do my knees and wrist if needed. If i know im going to be standing or walking a lot, ill brace my knees. (I need to get new knee braces bc the ones i have currently are not doing what they need to)

ARTIST WISE- definitely compression gloves. If u use a tablet they are also good drawing gloves to protect the tablet from oils! If u crochet or knit or craft, theyre very helpful in preventing carpal tunnel aswell!

Always keep note of ur body! "Do my wrists need a break? Is this position ok on my knees? Am i subluxating my shoulder rn????" And other questions about breaks and positioning help me to. I also currently have my tablet and most crafts next to my bed, so if it gets especially bad i can lay down or move. Also nearby my meds lmao. Its also WAY easier to prop up my shoulders, knees, etc. And keep them from hyperextending in bed.

Also also, i have that all set up on a medical table like this. I got mine from my mom after her surgeries, but i reccomend getting a much bigger one because mine is a balancing act. Not good. GET ONE WITH WHEELS!!!! my one also pivots so i dont need to sleep with it over me or mess with it much.

I have a pain chart to assess where im at, if i pass an 8 i take a break or at LEAST grab my heat pad/pain meds.

I also keep water handy!! If i need meds or if im cramping/spasming it helps me to drink water.

Other tips i have are getting a stool to sit on in the shower! A shower chair would be better, but i share my bathroom with 3 other people and also. Money. So i dont have one currently. Also for showers- if it's harder for you to do hygeine because of your physical OR mental state, you can brush your teeth in the shower. Do it before washing, but like. Its better than not brushing, and when thats all you can do, do it. Also also, having something IN the shower to hold on to- sitting or standing, can also help. I have water guards and those have saved my skull TOO MANY TIMES. also showers help my brain and my body! The water temperature can act as an all over heating pad or ice pack and help with pain.

I love showers they are my best friend. Sad? Get in the shower. Hurt? Into the shower!!!

Heat pads help me, other people react well to heat. See if pain meds can help, but i only really take mine when im at an 8-10 because im paranoid about medicines.

Physical therapy ofc, its been helping me a bit. My place is pretty affordable too! Got lucky with that.

The only other thing I recommend is a rolling chair. If you have mobility issues or your knees hurt too bad to walk, but wheelchairs/mobility aids are too expensive, a rolling chair can work in the house. It's hard to go over bumps, but it's possible. My chair is ALSO broken !!! The back broke off because we've had it for 6+ years. Generally stools and chairs are good. Also just recognizing that you can do a decent amount of stuff while sitting helps. Just ,, sit.

Obv actual mobility aids are BETTER, but I dont have access to them so I make do!!!

Food wise, it can be SOO much easier to eat convenience meals (microwave stuff, sandwiches, etc) and if thats all u have to work with, its better than nothing! But i do reccomend having leftovers when you cook. Microwave that and its usually healthier and tastier and just as easy and non-physically taxing.

I also like to work ahead whemever possible. On good days i will prepare EVERYTHING needed for any physically hard task i have coming up. If i need a checklist or tasklist or a bag of items or to find something i lost, ill do that when its easiest.

ANYWAYS THAT WAS LONG. TLDR: rolly chairs, bed tables,compression gloves & other compression stuff, joint braces, topical treatments, pain meds, stools for the shower & other items for shower safety. HEAT PADS /ice packs

Actions: regular physical checkins, sit down more, do pt if possible, roll around the house, shower more, keep water handy, make extra leftovers for later, shower more, do what u can WHEN u can, prop up/support any loose joints with pillows.

[nicascurls]

On the subject of team delusion:

Season 3 is probably gonna pick up a year later again, except the past year for the chucky survivors is very different in my mind compared to whatever Don Mancini is coming up with.

In my mind, picking up things a year later means the kids are all living with Andy at the cabin (in Chicago? I think that's where the cabin was) Where Nica also lives when she's not hunting down Tiffany.

The kids (Junior and Nadine are alive and the twins still have their human bodies) are happy at a new school where they could have a fresh start. The twins are getting ready to go to a nearby college, and Nadine moved back with her dad after the incarnate lord was shut down and now attends the same school as the other teens.

Kyle lives not far away in an apartment in the city and so do Mike and Karen with their apartment being a couple of blocks away from Kyle's and they all visit frequently.

As for Nica (who still has her limbs, shut up Don) not long after we last saw her at the end of season 2, she found a way to get Caroline away from Tiffany and bring her to the cabin where she now lives too and attends the local elementary school.

Nica still hunts down Tiffany and plans to get her revenge on her but also spends a decent amount of time living at the cabin, enjoying having a family after so long and it give her a safe space to plan her next moves. She's currently putting on a brave face for the twins before they move into their dorm, she knows that they are more than capable of taking care of themselves but she is going to miss them like hell.

Nadine is constantly visiting and staying over at the cabin since she's friends with all the kids and absolutely loves playing with Caroline. Andy gets along well with Nadine but is often pretty nervous for her just because of how innocent minded and optimistic she is even knowing everything about Chucky and Tiffany. Meanwhile, Nica completely adores her and loves listening to her enthusiastic updates about her life whenever they get a chance to talk (she tries to ignore the similarities between her and Alice).

At least once every week or so, everyone meets up for dinner and are happy to just have some regular domesticity in their lives.

Kyle is 100% the cool aunt who often tells Jake and Junior embarrassing stories about Andy in his teens that the cousins use to their advantage. Meanwhile, Devon loves talking to Mike and listening to his stories of when he was a cop whilst Lexy gets on surprisingly well with Karen with her treating her and the others in a polar opposite way to how her mother would treat her.

So yeah, that's how their year has gone in my mind. Clearly, I am more than a little delusional when it comes to the treatment of Chucky survivors in the series.