#this time a political marriage that slowly (SLOWLY) turns romantic

[distance-does-not-matter]

WIP Game

Rules: Make a new post and post the latest line your WIP & tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like)

Tagged by @englishable! Thank you, friend!

Wow, haven't written in a hot minute, but here, have two last lines (one is actually connected to what I was writing, the other was just something I wanted to make sure I have down)

Drawn into his embrace, she closed her eyes.

and

It is a foolish question.

Tagging whoever wants to do it!

[appocalipse]

Kiss prompt #9 with Eddie? Por favor?

anything for you. ♥

#9: "I think I deserve a kiss."

Eddie is charming your mother. You can tell even from this distance, sitting on the small step in front of your porch while you watch them.

He's been squatting with a some sort of screwdriver near that lawnmower for about 10 minutes, poking it, tightening screws, taking out parts of it you can't even name.

His hands are dirty with what you suppose it's oil, but he doesn't seem to care. He's so focused that he brings the back of his hand to his face and leaves a stain on his cheek without even realizing it.

You smile.

He looks up from time to time, to sneak a glance your way or when your mother talks to him, and then the two of them laugh amicably. After a few more moments, Eddie straightens up the lawnmower and turns it on, demonstrating that, as if by magic, it now works. Your mom thanks Eddie politely, then says something that makes him, you realize, look embarrassed as he stands up, wiping his hands on a grey cloth.

Embarrassed, Eddie? It's an unusual occurrence, to say the least.

It doesn't last long.

She says something else to him, insists. Eddie vehemently denies with small smile. You wonder if she's offering him money.

Eddie, very helpful, turns the mower off and puts it back in the garage.

Your mom touches your shoulder affectionately when she passes you on her way back inside the house, offering a smile that you're not sure you understand. Maybe it's best to not even try to understand.

Eddie comes right behind her, looking very pleased with himself.

The step is too small for two people, but he sits down next to you anyway, his knee lightly bumping yours. "I think I just won your mother over," he announces, and it's probably true; that lawnmower had been abandoned in your garage for the past few months, all but useless. He'll sure be in your mother's good graces for a long time.

"And why would you need to win her over?"

He bumps your shoulder with his. "Oh, you know, for when we decide to get married."

Eddie has no filter. You shouldn't even get flustered by this kind of comment at this point.

You laugh without looking at him, although you sound a little more nervous than you'd like. "So fixing a lawnmower is worth my hand in marriage?" you ask in mock seriousness.

"No, but it's a start. Don't you think I deserve, say…" he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing your temple. "…a kiss? I think I deserve a kiss. Sounds fair enough, doesn't it?"

Now you have no choice but to look at him. This space really is too small for two people, and the proximity between is slowly melting away what little common sense you have left.

"You can ask her," you chuckle, pointing to the front door despite knowing that, of course, Eddie wasn't talking about your mother, "but I think my dad won't like the idea, you know."

Eddie grins when you look away. He can read you like a book.

"Don't be mean, sweetheart."

"You're the one being mean."

He leans closer, and you can feel his breath on your cheek, the tip of his nose almost touching the side of your face, hoping you turn to look at him too. "Me? I'm just trying to make things clear." He pauses, and you can practically hear him thinking. "Maybe I should try a different approach."

You tilt your head, curious. "Like what?"

"Like..." Eddie hesitates for a moment, gathering his courage, "…you could go out with me."

You blink.

"Don't look so surprised," he says quickly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I can do dates. Fancy dinner, movies, the whole shebang. Just give me a chance."

You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look into his eyes. It's true, at first glance, he's not exactly the most romantic person you know, with his tattoos, his love for heavy metal and his old van that always smells like cheap cologne, cigarettes and leather. But none of that matters, because you can't deny that there's something there between the two of you, something that you've been forcing yourself to ignore for far too long.

The oil stain is still right there, on his cheek. Without thinking too much, you reach up and rub it off slowly with the pad of your thumb. "I don't need fancy," you murmur, because it's true. You don't care about the glitz and the glamor, not when it comes to Eddie.

His breath hitches when you touch him, like he's not used to anyone being this gentle with him, like he's forgotten what it feels like.

You can feel the warmth of his skin through your fingers, the rough stubble of his beard prickling your palm. You wonder if he knows how soft you've become around him, how easily you let him affect you.

"Really?" he whispers, eyes wide and unblinking, as if he's afraid he's imagining this.

You nod, still rubbing his cheek even though the stain is already long gone. You can feel him relaxing into the touch, leaning into you just a little more. It's like he's been waiting for this, for someone to finally see past the tough exterior he shows the world and find the tender, vulnerable boy underneath.

Eddie grins, leaning closer, his voice lowering to a husky murmur. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Hello! May I request a headcanon for how Tommy Shelby would pine/crush over a reader maybe one who has rejected him in the past because she worked for him or because she wants to keep their relationship as friends/professional! (Since you’re writing you can make the scenario as to why she said no whatever you like) but truly i’d just love to see a headcanon on him falling in love and longing for someone who he can’t have so easily :)

Imagine Rejecting: Thomas Shelby

Tommy x fem!reader

Trope: Right person, wrong time. Warnings: Angst, pining, toxic romantic tendencies, infidelity.

You worked under him as Lizzie's replacement as his secretary, you saw his books and you knew the red on his suit collar wasn't always lipstick. You went with him almost everywhere, memorized his schedule, and completed small tasks that often caused him headaches. Long hours in the office stopped feeling so lonely. And that's where the trouble started.

When he found himself growing fond of you, he tried to fight it. He really did. But feelings grow over time and before he knew it, he started to see you as a partner. At first, he told himself that you reminded him of Grace. It was easier to tell himself that he was projecting her image onto you. However, there came a point where he couldn't lie to himself anymore.

His eyes would follow you as you left a room. His head would turn upon hearing your voice. The smell of your perfume was enough to give him pause at times. When he was at home, he would sometimes go into his office to call you from your desk in Birmingham. Just to have a conversation, even if it was to go over a detail for a meeting he "forgot."

Tommy confessed his feelings to you one late night at the Midland Hotel. You sat with him at the hotel bar, not a soul around except for the two of you and half a bottle of whiskey. Maybe is was the whiskey that did it, but he took your hand and said: "I've been trying to think of what to do about you. The things that you make me want to feel, make me want to do. It shouldn't be this way, but it is. I want you."

You slowly took your hand from him, and stood. The look in your eyes was enough to make him sober. Quietly, you gave your reply, "I'm going to call for two cars to take us home. I'll see you Monday morning, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas Shelby is not unused to rejection. It hasn't bothered him in years. With you, however, it's different. You aren't a political rival, a gang leader, or a position he's being blocked from obtaining. You are a person. A woman who has denied him access to your heart.

That is very, very different.

Not to mention a blow to his ego. Tommy knows he's attractive, and he knows that most of the women he interacts with are more than a little interested in him. Ladies from poor families see a man that can provide. Ladies from wealthy families see a man of danger that can make them feel alive. You didn't seem to fall into either category. You didn't seem to need him the way most people did.

He wouldn't discuss that night at the Midland with you for several months. When it finally did get addressed, you seemed surprised. Had you assumed he was drunk? It hardly mattered. You tried to turn him down, again "We can't, Tommy."

"Of course we can."

You scoffed, "We shouldn't. You have a wife and two children, and I am merely your employee."

Tommy got closer to you, his eyes caught between staring at your rosy painted lips and the look in your eyes. His fingertips gazed your wrist. It would be so easy to just kiss you. To take you into his arms and just hold you. Did you truly not want him? As he stared you down, the answer was found in the tears that welled in your eyes. No, you were just as sick in the heart as he was.

"Lizzie understands. Or marriage is a partnership, nothing more. We can be as we like, she wants nothing to do with it," Tommy takes your chin in between his thumb and index finger. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave you alone. Tell me that."

Tears stained by your dark mascara roll down your cheeks, a shudder runs through you. "Tommy," you sigh "that's precisely why I'll never give in. I can't live my life as your whore. It's almost as cruel as being your wife."

He let you go. You took two steps back, then left him there. As the door to his office slammed shut, Tommy almost chased after you. But, he didn't. Because you were right.

[wardenparker]

Hello my love! You DESERVE ALLL THE LOVE!!! Can I request Javi G? And “Wait! Please don’t leave!” For your AWESOME mini fic celebration???

😘😘😘😘

Regency!Javi Gutierrez. 867 words. "Wait! Please don't leave!" Co-written with @absurdthirst

Because we all need a little Darcy moment after the treat we got at the SAG Awards

"We should not be alone." He knows that. Everyone knows it. Even young children learn that being alone together is something only for the grown and married. Or your siblings. But certainly nothing else. So why Mr. Gutierrez is standing in your library now with mud on his boots and no waistcoat is beyond you. You certainly did not send for him, and neither did anyone else in your household.

"The day is early." Javi glances out the windows, almost surprised to see that the sun still has not quite cleared over the horizon. The night has been long, spent pacing his own library as he wrestled with his feelings. Unable to leave things without a resolution, he hadn't even stopped to dress properly, or saddle a horse. Walking across the cleared fields that separated his own estate from your father's. "No matter." He glances back at you and is overwhelmed by your beauty. "I have a matter of importance to speak with you about."

"Then surely we should ring for my mother, so that you may speak to her as well." The great supper at the palace had lasted long into the night but surely your mother would be rested enough by now to be a suitable set of surveying eyes in the room. Goodness only knows what she will say if she wakens to her breakfast tray to find out you have been entertaining a man alone at daybreak. "Please wait here," you instruct him as politely as possible, making for the door. "I will go and fetch her myself."

"Wait! Please don't go!" Javi strides forward only to stop after a few steps, afraid for a split second that if you walk out the door he will never see you again. He cannot wait to tell you. "I love you."

Freezing in place does not stop your heart from leaping into your throat and pushing a distressed sort of squeaking sound out in the process. The fluttering in your belly is nearly violent as your mind races to catch up with the pounding of your blood in your ears. If you were a more delicate woman, you might have swooned where you stand. "You..." Slowly, or just as fast as your body will allow which is a near-glacial pace, you turn again to face him. "I must not have heard you correctly."

“I love you.” He repeats breathlessly, feeling like his heart is about to leap out of his chest. “As inconvenient a truth as that might be, I have found that I cannot spend another moment outside of your presence. I yearn to tell you the mundane things about my day and inquire about yours with little regard to your lack of family fortune or your prospects, I have decided that I cannot live without you.”

"How very generous of you, sir." It is nearly a hiss when it comes out, and all the giddy tension through your body evaporates as quickly as it came. "'With little regard to your lack of family fortune or your prospects'? I cannot think who taught you the syntax of romance, but they did you a hearty disservice if you were attempting to pay me a compliment."

He frowns in confusion and he shakes his head. “I am merely trying to express the lengths that my heart sings when you are near.” He protests. “I have no need of a dowry or a presence in society, merely your heart and hand in marriage are all I hope to have.”

“I may not know much of the world, Mr. Gutierrez, but even a country gentleman’s daughter knows it is impolite to remark on a lack of prospects when making a romantic overture.” The very idea that he is making an overture seems ludicrous, all things considered, but you must admit that in all the ways you have been thrown together lately there has been a…a string connecting you. It seems to be tucked deep inside you. Perhaps tied to a rib and tugging each time he strays a little too far away.

“I—” his mouth is agape as you call out his rude manners and he realizes that all of the jumbled thoughts that have been rambling around in his mind have come out. “My sincerest apologies.” He bows slightly and sighs. “Perhaps such an early audience was not wise.”

“Sleep has a way of soothing the thoughts.” The small touch of advice is kindly meant, although your hands shake with it and your heart pounds. He had not meant to insult. He simply spoke too quickly. “Perhaps you would rather return at teatime? To speak to my father?”

“Perhaps.” Javi sighs softly, aware of his blunder and more than certain you will reject him if he were to return. “Good morrow to you, then.”

“Good morning.” That pounding of your heart is there too fully to ignore, but not a word can be said about it. All you can hope is that he returns — and that when he does, he does not fumble in front of your father. If he does, the poor string tied to your rib may snap, and you would be adrift forever.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

epilogue: our love is going gold

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 17.2k (but she's done. like done, done.)

warnings (**SPOLIERS**): NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is now 10 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), established relationship, engagement, marriage, alcohol, eating, very lovey romantic, polite southern manners, spanish/spanglish cause joel is latino, soft joel, domestic joel, WIFE!! GUY!! JOEL!!, discussion of parenting, step-parenting, struggles with conceiving, negative self talk and image, smut, soft dom joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), joel worships the ground his wife walks on and also her body, praise, unprotected p in v (they're tryna get pregnant, not you!), breeding kink, sort of nursing kink? joel is briefly obsessed with your tits and makes comments, mating press, a flash of cumplay, the BRIEFEST mention of daddy kink, joel really wants to give his wife a baby, pregnancy, a mention of giving birth, girl dad joel, CUTE FAMILY!!!

also this is the song mentioned <3 it's a fave of mine and i think very joel & mari

a/n: this has been a doozy but happy to hand this over to y'all. this is simply what i envisioned for their future, and if you had different thoughts, i would love to hear them! <3 or if you have any headcanons for their life beyond this, drop them in my inbox! this fic and these characters are my children and i love them very much. will probably keep them alive somehow. and thank you to everyone who's read this series, you are all so special to me and have sincerely made me feel so much more confident in my writing!

as always, thank you thank you thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing, couldn't do it without you! and this extremely long ending is dedicated to el and kiwi @kiwisbell you are my hype people fr

i feel like i need to say like signing off on h&h now lol so this is me doing that & closing the book!

** this is set over three additional summers post-main story **

first of many

After the holidays, it was an easy decision to move in with Joel and Sarah. The Millers had joined your family for their annual, lowkey celebrations; spending Christmas Eve with Joel and Sarah, it was a treat to witness him playing Santa after Sarah had gone to bed. Only a few curses under his breath putting together the new dollhouse she’d requested from St Nick, the other presents from her father, and your gifts to her carefully wrapped under the tree. The two of you split the plate of cookies while watching A Christmas Story, you and Joel taking turns mumbling the words to the iconic scenes under your breaths.

The next morning, your heart was overwhelmed with the love that you hold for this family that has welcomed you in and made you a part of it. Sarah gifted you a photo frame that she’d made at school, painted with flowers and butterflies, and a photo of the three of you from the trip to the apple orchard you’d taken that fall. Once Sarah was occupied with her new treasures, gifts were exchanged between you and Joel. Requesting to gift first, you stand up from the couch and tiptoe around Sarah and her new dolls sprawled across the floor to the front hall closet and retrieve a brand new, custom acoustic guitar. 

Sitting back with him, guitar placed into his hands and his eyes combing over it, his lips part with a gasping breath when he notices in the inlay of ‘SME’ for his daughter’s name, Sarah Elena.

“The old one in the corner of your room was lookin’ a little worse for wear, and I hadn’t seen you play it in a while…” you trail off in the silence, waiting for his response, “Do you—do you like it? Is it the right kind? I tried to match it the best I could to the one upstairs.”

“Oh, Mari baby, I love it. It’s beautiful, thank you so much…” He shakes his head, taking another sighing exhale in appreciation as he turns it in his hands. “Hadn’t played the other one 'cause it wasn’t quite playable anymore. Restrung it a few too many times, the wood was warped from some water damage. The perils of having a toddler around years ago. This is…it’s perfect, Mariposa.”

You beam, shifting in your seat and anxiously fiddling with your fingers. Joel sets the instrument down next to him carefully, turning back to you. He leans in, kissing you delicately and whispering another ‘thank you’ against your lips, “Guess m’gonna have to serenade you now.”

“Oh, yeah, J. I expect one nightly,” you playfully respond, kissing him again before he pulls away, his turn to stand from his place on the couch. 

He wanders over to the tree, plucking the last wrapped gift from under it, and returning to sit next to you. Handing over the small rectangular box, you unwrap it gingerly, glancing at Joel’s knee bouncing. You gently set your hand on it, smiling at him which he returns, biting his lip to channel his jittery energy. Opening the box, you’re met with the shining gold links of a beautiful charm bracelet. Your eyes wander over the small icons, feeling your chest tighten with love as you take them all in: A small ‘S’ with a ruby-colored stone at each end of the curve, a matching ‘J’ with a sapphire embedded into it right next to the ‘S; there’s a tiny gold key, nearly identical to the one he had given to you those three summers before for your job that started it all; a tiny set of longhorn antlers that is reminiscent of home; a lighthouse that reminds you of one you visited while living in Boston, a day you had documented and sent Joel some of the photos in the mail to recap your time. It was a day you had been happy there, and it made your heart ache that he remembered that. The last charm on the bracelet is a butterfly, bejeweled with kelly green stones, the color of the leaves that you told him were your favorite years ago. The ache in your chest is worked out of its knot with Joel’s hand at your back, a gasping breath as you blink back tears.

Clearing your throat, your watery smile has a flash of worry crossing his eyes before you hand him the bracelet you’ve taken out of the box, lightly requesting, “Will you put it on for me?”

Joel nods shyly, taking the dainty piece in his hands, and hooking the clasp around your wrist after a few tries. You both admire it, your smile growing wider and his matching yours.

“Merry Christmas, Mari baby. I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, J. I love you, too.”

Now, months later, the bracelet on your wrist glints in the sun as you hold onto Sarah’s hand, letting her lead you around the atrium filled with butterflies. Spending the day at the same farm you three had visited summers ago, and had kept up with the tradition with the summers following, you picked an abundance of strawberries, wandered through the nature paths, and now ending the day at the youngest Miller’s favorite spot.

Sarah wildly points out the different types of butterflies, the encyclopedia book of the insect’s species that you had gifted her for Christmas coming in handy for today as she reads the small signs of each patterned, winged creature, adding in her tidbits that she remembers. A grin stays plastered on your face as you listen intently, paying no mind to Joel trailing behind the two of you.

Giving your lessons on the flora that you know of in the gardens, Sarah listens to you as well. Stopping in front of the small waterfall, surrounded by tropical plants and flowers, the two of you go back and forth in fun facts about plants and butterflies, unaware as Joel saddles up behind you. Sarah glances back over her shoulder and grins, the expression reading as knowing and mischievous. Before turning around, you start to warn Joel behind you playfully, “J, if you’re even thinking about pushing me or splashing me, I will ki—”

Your breath catches when you finally face him, eyes dropping to meet his; the backpack he’d be adamant about carrying all day is at his feet, unzipped, and in his hands is a small, forest-green velvet box. Joel rests on one knee, a soft but bright, devoted smile on his face.

“Oh my god…” It comes from your lips as a whisper, your free hand reaching up to cover your mouth while the other continues to tether you to Sarah at your side, her small giggle hitting your ears as Joel glances at her, sending her a wink.

Eyes back on your face, Joel clears his throat, adjusting himself on his knee as he takes a deep breath, “I have been trying to figure out exactly what to say, and I can’t seem to find quite the right words that tell you exactly how I feel about you. I love you, so much, Mariposa. The second you entered my life, that time I saw you for only seconds in your backyard while I was touring the house, I knew I had to meet you. And then the first time I met you, well, I knew that you were who I needed.

“I’ve been walking around blind, trying to figure out life for years, and moving next door to you, that was the last piece falling into place. You have made my life, and Sarah’s life, a million times better. And while these past few years haven’t been picture-perfect for us, we made it through, and I know that we can take on anything that comes our way. Eres el alma más hermosa que he conocido, y soy muy afortunada de tenerte. (You are the most beautiful soul I have ever met, and I am so lucky to have you.) I’ve been waiting for years to do this, Mari baby, and I can’t have any more summers pass by without you being mine. Tú eres mi media naranja. (You’re my soulmate.) I love you. Te amo, Mari. You’re my soulmate, sweet girl, and I can’t take another day without the promise of forever. Will you marry me, Mariposa?”

Without hesitation, you nod your head frantically, your tears that started falling as soon as Joel started speaking continue to flow. You uncover your mouth, squeezing Sarah’s hand and sharing a smile with her before she takes her hand away.

“Yes, oh my gosh, Joel…of course, of course, I’ll marry you. I love you so much, J.” You squat down in front of him, left hand trembling as you hold it out for him. He carefully takes the ring from the box, and Sarah, ever the helper, takes it from the spot where it rests on his knee for safekeeping. The delicate gold band slips onto your finger, embellished with clusters of tiny gems and centered with an emerald cut diamond. It’s perfectly you, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face as you watch Joel settle the piece of jewelry on your finger. Both of you take a deep breath, admiring the sight before your eyes find each other’s again, matching expressions of complete admiration. Your hands find his cheeks, pulling him in for a tenderly passionate kiss, attempting to breathe all the love in your chest into the kiss and his heart. Joel pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours for a quiet moment.

“Thank you, J,” you whisper, and his head tilts with curiosity.

“For what, baby? I think I should be thankin’ you for sayin’ yes to me.” He chuckles and rubs his thumb at the back of your hand, skimming next to the band of the new addition.

“Everything. For not giving up. Your patience when I was still finding my way back to you. How effortlessly you’ve welcomed me into your life and your family…” Cheating your body away, one hand reaches out to pull Sarah into the small huddle, reuniting the moment within your unit of three, “I just—I can’t wait for all my summers to be spent with you both.”

“I can’t wait either. This is gonna be the first of many, Mari baby.”

And the two of you really couldn’t wait.

Only a week after Joel was down on one knee, your family was throwing you an engagement party. Tommy, a few of Joel’s close friends from his contracting company, your college friends, and neighbors were all in attendance to celebrate the two of you, and it was a big to-do. Drinks flowing, music playing, and food was being passed around. Everything under the warmth of a Texas night and the strung lights across the stretch of your parents’ backyard. Joel was glued to your side the entire night, hand on your back or clasped in yours, grabbing your refills and whispering in your ear to make you laugh.

“So…are all of these people coming to the wedding? ‘Cause I can count about half that I have no idea who they are.”

To that, you whispered back, “I don’t know them either, so definitely not. Unless they wanna buy us the most expensive thing on the registry.” Joel laughed, squeezing you closer — if it were even possible — and pressing a kiss to your temple.

Later, once you two were far past tipsy, Joel mumbled against your ear, barely able to get the words out without drunkenly giggling himself, “D’you think Mrs. Clarke is thinkin’ m’the one that got away?”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, bursting out in the middle of the conversation happening around you two, quickly covering your mouth as the lingering hiccups escape, “I think she’s singin’ the blues about you, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was filled with small moments between the two of you; never left alone long enough to have a full conversation on your own. Whispers of love and affection breathed out, fleeting kisses exchanged. It wasn’t until the party was over, everyone dwindled out the door and back to their homes, that you and Joel took a beat to speak to each other in more than one sentence. The early hours of the morning had crept in without anyone quite noticing, and Sarah was knocked out, brought inside to sleep in your old bedroom around 10pm when she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Joel now held her in his arms, her head laying on his shoulder while the three of you walked the short distance home. After your quiet goodnight to Sarah that went unheard by her sleeping self, Joel put her down, taking off her shoes and leaving her undisturbed to sleep in her clothes.

Back in the ensuite of your, now, shared bedroom, you’re lazily getting ready for bed, movements slower and lagging from the alcohol you consumed. Joel stands behind you, facing your reflection in the mirror and giving you a smile as the exhaustion catches up to him.

“You have fun tonight, sweet girl?” His vocal cords rub together in a fry, hands finding their place on your waist and drawing you back into his chest. Littering kisses at the back of your neck, he hums contently before you affectionately shoo him off to brush his teeth while you apply your skincare.

“‘Course I did, J. Spent most of the night with you, how could I not have fun?” You grin at him from in front of your side of the double sinks, gently rubbing in your moisturizer. “Have you given any thought as to when you wanna set a date for?”

Whatever he responds is muffled by the foamy toothpaste, your face twisting in confusion before he leans over and spits out, rinsing his mouth and toothbrush. Standing back up, he rests his hip against the countertop while facing you, shrugging as he smirks slightly, “As soon as possible. Baby, I’d get married to ya in a garbage dump if it meant we could get married right this second. No puedo esperar para hacerte mi esposa. (Can’t wait to make you my wife.) And I know you don’t want that, and I want to make you happy, so whenever you want, Mari. Lo que sea que desees, lo haré realidad. (Whatever you wish for, I’ll make a reality.) But I will say, summer’s kind of our thing.”

A gentle smile stretches across your lips as you step closer, hands coming to rest on his chest and massaging your fingers gently into the muscles there, “Well, how about we do this summer? I mean, I don’t want anything fancy, just something special for us. Thought maybe we could do it here, in our backyard and my parents’. Where we met and fell in love and broke up and fell in love again and—”

“I love that idea, sweetheart. Think it’s perfect for us…” Joel punctuates his work by stealing a kiss, mint and strawberry lip balm melting on his tongue when he deepens it only for a few seconds, “Think we can manage for Labor Day weekend, mi amor?”

Nodding confidently, your hands skate up to his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss, “I believe we just set our wedding date, Miller.”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

A whirlwind of planning and three months later, you now stand in your childhood bedroom on the second floor of your parent’s house, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror standing in the corner. Your mom had helped you with your hair, a small gold barette holding one side away from your face; your makeup was fairly minimal, fresh, and bright, but nothing too heavy that would melt in the heat that has graced Austin this weekend.

On your wrist is your charm bracelet from Joel, a simple gold locket to match that your father had gifted you the evening before at the rehearsal dinner — it has belonged to his grandmother, and now your grandma wanted you to have it since she couldn’t make the trip down due to her age. It was your ‘something old’ he said, playing into the old traditions that seemed to charm your entire family. 

Your ‘something borrowed’ was a pair of white strappy sandals from your mom, ones that she had worn to her rehearsal dinner when she married your dad. The title of ‘something new’ belonged to the charm hanging off of your wrist that was hand-delivered to you this morning from Tommy, per the request of Joel since you both were getting ready in opposite houses. The gift box unveiled a gold lotus flower, hand painted with deep magenta petals. Inside the lid of the box was a folded note, the words written by your soon-to-be husband in his usual scrawl.

Mi amor,

Got to reading one of your books you leave around about plants, and they were talking about the lotus flower. Made me think of you — since they go back to the murky water each evening and open their blooms at the break of day. You always start fresh, sweet girl, you’re so resilient and strong and pure of heart. No matter what happens, you get through it. And you won’t have to go at it alone, baby. I’m gonna be right there with you through anything.

You make me a better man.

Te amo, mi media naranja.

J

You had to touch up your makeup after having read the note over and over for minutes straight, now fresh faced and eager to get downstairs. One last time in the mirror, you give yourself the once over, smoothing the long, full skirt of your linen dress. The ruched empire bodice lays across your chest, framing your neck with a square shape along with the cap sleeves. Simple, but it feels perfectly you. And now, you were finally on your way to get your something blue: Joel in his navy suit, waiting at the end of the aisle for you.

Everyone’s gathered in their seats, only a crowd of around forty people from your lives occupying the rows, all carefully selected to make the cut. It was easy for Joel, he had three people he wanted there for sure, and well, his daughter didn’t have a choice living right next door, plus with her dad being the groom, and you being the bride. The only chance of a wild card he had was Tommy, but he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning despite the many shots he had the night prior. At the rehearsal dinner of all places.

Dressed and gaffed, he stands at the end of the short aisle after having walked down it hand-in-hand with Sarah, who was donning a lilac dress she picked out with your help and her hair in her natural, bouncy curls. She now sits next to Tommy in the front row, whose new girlfriend Maria is sitting on the other side of him, stealing peeks over the back of the seat to try to catch a glimpse of you at the top of the deck stairs. Joel is doing the same, eyes flickering from scanning over the crowd to tunneling at the opening of the stairs. 

Music starts and it immediately tunes out of his ears, a tingle of excitement radiating from his chest throughout his body. A vision in white, you appear at the stairs with your arm linked to your dad, Mark; he isn’t paying attention to anything but you, captivated by your beauty. His heartbeat kicks up when you walk down, reaching the end of the grassy path between rows of chairs, and stopping for a moment. With the bouquet in one hand, you use the other that was resting on your dad’s arm to give him a short wave that he returns with a grin.

Each step you take brings up tears in his eyes, an overwhelming joy clenching around his heart. A few drop down his cheeks, using one of his thumbs to wipe away the streaks as you give him a gentle smile, speeding up your walk and dragging your dad along with you. The guests laugh at the eagerness, Joel rocking on the balls of his feet as he bites back his wild grin when you finally reach him. Exchanging hugs with your dad, Mark shakes Joel’s hand before clapping him on the back, a sure nod directed to him.

His hand slips into yours naturally, helping you with the last few steps to stand in front of him, exhaling a deep breath. A smile that he can’t wipe off stretches across his face, looking into your eyes as he lifts a hand to wipe his cheeks. You do the same, delicate touch against his skin while your gaze stays trained on his. Beating out of his chest, his heart thumps deeply, the wings of his butterfly fluttering madly in his gut in time with his heartbeat.

“Hey, Mari.”

“Hi, J.”

Everyone settles back in their seats, and your brother stands at the makeshift altar, a carved arbor handmade by Joel over the last few months frames the three of you in front of your guests. You turn to hand off the wildflower bouquet you put together to Sarah, eager to fulfill her responsibility of holding it during the ceremony. She grins, whispering to you loud enough for him to hear when she takes the arrangement.

“You look so pretty, Posey. I’m excited for you to marry Daddy.” Your hand reaches for her curls, squatting down in your dress to address her at eye level, unconditional love shining in your eyes as you look at his daughter.

“You look beautiful, Sare Bear. I’m so excited, too.” Other words are exchanged only between the two of you, a hug shared before Sarah retreats to her chair next to Tommy and you stand up and take Joel’s hands.

Chris ambles through an introduction, recollecting his version of events, as well as both of your sides, for how your relationship has progressed. Humor was laced throughout, laughter bubbling over throughout the crowd of guests, and especially between the two of you when you shared knowing expressions.

The ceremony moves quickly, with no religious elements to extend the length, simply secular. Before he knows it, Chris is reaching the vows, allowing a moment for Tommy to present the rings to each of you, clapping a hand on his brother’s back.

“Don’t fuck this one up, brother. Posey’s a good ‘un. Way too good for you—”

Joel cuts him off with a mumble and an eye roll, “I know all of this, Tommy, but thank you for the reminder.”

Chris directs Joel to go first, a deep inhale and extended exhale fills the air as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze. He flashes a smile at you before he drops one of your hands, finishing in his inside jacket pocket for the small slip of paper.

“I tried to memorize this, but we both know that wasn’t gonna happen…” he huffs out a nervous chuckle, reading over the page before his eyes come back to you, a patient and gentle grin on your face, “I genuinely hope you know how much I love you. I try to show you, to tell you, to make you feel it through osmosis every day, but I truly hope you can feel it. Through all that we have been through together and on our own, I have always had you in my mind. I thought about you every day you were away, and all I was hoping for was your happiness. I cannot tell you what it means that you have found your happiness with me, but I will be thanking whatever forces are out there for bringing us back together. Our roads may have been bumpy, and they may be in the future, but I’m so thankful to have you in my passenger seat. Cause we both know you don’t like to drive.” Joel winks and the crowd of guests laugh.

“I never want to let go. And I’m never going to let you go, Mariposa, I’m in it for the long run.  Eres todo para mí. (You are everything to me.) You are everything I have ever asked for, hoped for, didn't think I deserved. You are…un alma tan pura (such a pure soul) and I don't know how you ended up with me, but I'm countin’ my luck every second of every day. I love you through anything, mi Mariposa, and I cannot wait for our future together, as a family. I’m so happy that you have found a place you belong with Sarah and me, and I feel so lucky that you have chosen me. Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre.”

Recovering from your tears, you choke out a small sob that tugs on his heartstrings, tightening his grip on your hand while his brow furrows softly in concern.

“Happy tears, I promise, J. Very happy tears.” Another sob comes with a burst of laughter, a hand of yours fanning your face. Joel reaches up, wiping away the stragglers, careful to not smudge any of your mascara. With a deep breath, you focus back, centered, offering Joel your left hand. He repeats the phrase from Chris, who recites it from his printed-out online ordainment course before slipping the simple matching gold band onto your finger above your engagement ring, ears ringing when he sees the symbol of his love and commitment on your finger, where it will stay for the rest of his time on this Earth.

Next, it was your turn to recite your vows, Chris pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to you. A giggle slips from your lips, wavering the small folded sheet, “Couldn’t memorize it either. Got too much to say…”

Joel relaxes in his stance, thumb circling the back of your palm as he listens, the butterfly wings fluttering into his chest and up to his head, love overwhelming his nervous system across his body. You clear your throat, looking up from the wrinkled white sheet, “I didn’t know that one summer spent at home would completely send me on a whole new life path, but looking back, I am eternally grateful that I wanted to mooch off my parents for as long as possible. That first summer, I fell hard and fast, and despite the obstacles, my love continued to root deeper inside of me and grow out new branches with every memory we made together. I am so lucky to have been welcomed so easily into the Miller household, and I cannot imagine my life with you or Sarah there right next to me. You both have brought so much into my life and thanks to you, J, I feel like I have truly found myself. 

“I was always searching for what I was meant to do, who I was meant to be, and what I would leave behind in my life. And while I went out searching everywhere, the answer was my next-door neighbor. I am meant to be your person, I was meant to care and love and create a life with you, and your wonderful daughter, and I know I will leave behind all my love for you and our family behind. My success does not need to be measured by the reach of my impact, but by how deeply I love you. That is all that matters to me, to make you feel loved and supported and to know how incredible you are. You mean the world to me, and I love Sarah as if she were my own; both of you are my best friends and I could not do this life without you. I am so excited to spend the rest of my days, and the rest of my summers with you, J. I love you. Forever.”

The same routine goes for you, slipping a gold band around Joel’s left ring finger. He flexes with the new accessory on his hand, admiring it before he looks at you, a wide and wild grin crossing his face as he listens as Chris starts to ask him that very special question, “Joel, do you ta—”

“Absolutely I do. No question.”

Laughter rises from the attendees, and you, playfully roll your eyes. Chris nods shortly, chuckling as he turns to address you with the same question. He states your name, inquiring, “Do you ta—”

“Of course, I do. Only been waitin’ years for this to happen.” 

Joel laughs, shaking his head as he mumbles a sweet agreement, “You and me both, baby.”

Chris drops the papers he was reading from next to him on the grass, clasping his hands together, “Well, that made it damn easy for me. With the power vested in me by apparently the state of Texas, but who really knows, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now y’all can kiss finally.”

A hand presses against the small of your back, pulling you into his chest as he folds down, latching your lips to his in a deep kiss, all of his love pouring into the moment. It takes restraint to not take it further in front of everyone, your intoxicating taste drawing him in and quenching a perpetual thirst he has. You lean back first, fingertips digging into his shoulders to hold him off as you whisper, “Gotta keep some decorum until tonight, Mr. Miller.”

“Hard to do that with you, Mrs. Miller,” he rasps back, matching blindingly bright grins across your faces as you right yourself, turning to face your guests as your brother loudly announces.

“For the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

With the low-key, intimate wedding that you both had planned together, there was no real formal separation of the ceremony and reception. Instead, everyone wandered over to the backyard of Joel’s home, which was now yours, too. There were rented tables set up with chairs around, no seating chart, and a checkered dance floor set up in the middle of the lawn. Lights have been strung from his deck to the tree at the back of the property line that holds Sarah’s tire swing, some lanterns strewn about to add more light as the sun sets in the later evening. 

The family-favorite restaurant in the city that the three of you have frequented, even as friends, catered the meal, and your parents, ever so prepared, had stocked up all summer with booze. Your dad plays pretend bartender, getting your now-husband behind the tablecloth-covered folding table and pouring heavy drinks and somehow heavier shots. By sundown, everyone was liquored up enough to cheer for you both to have a first dance, chanting their request over and over.

Joel looks at you from his spot next to you, eyebrows raising in question. His hand at your back draws you closer, starting to sway to whatever song is playing as he grins with a looseness to him, relieved to have you as his for good and relaxed from the alcohol in his blood. “C’mon, Mari baby, I wanna dance with you. M’wife. I got the perfect song.”

“Okay, okay, you go tell Chris what song you want and see if he’s got it on his iPod.” 

You push Joel along, giggling to yourself as he shuffles over to Chris, the makeshift DJ for the evening. Joel leans in, talking in your brother’s ear over the music currently playing. They exchange a smile and nod, Joel laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking it affectionately. His beer gets abandoned on the nearest surface, giddily running over to you and taking your hand. Impatiently, he pulls you to the center of the dance floor, and Tommy intercepts your drink before it sloshes all over the front of you, huffing out a disbelieving breath as you continue to drag behind Joel.

Your husband turns you in his arms, one hand finding your back as the other lifts your joined ones toward his shoulder, elbows bent. Everyone else clears the dancefloor as an upbeat guitar riff sounds out of the speakers surrounding the dancefloor, the bright drums kicking in as Joel starts to shuffle the two of you around the dancefloor, a swing to your movements again.

The familiar lyrics of Orleans’ Still the One that Joel has sung to you many times over the last year are recited right back to you, making you reminisce about the time you were driving in the car to pick up Sarah from camp, a rare afternoon that both of you had off together. The song had come onto Joel’s favorite classic rock station, perking him up in his seat as he turned the volume dial up.

“Oh, Mari baby, this is such a great song.”

Not as familiar with it, you listen, giggling as he sings along with his words pointed at you, and you had to admit, they were pretty sickly sweet. Ever since then, Joel got into the habit of singing it to you, learning to play it after he received his new guitar from you at Christmas.

Dancing with him now, under the sticky heat of the tail end of Texan summer, surrounded by family and friends, he makes you feel as if it’s only the two of you again like it was for every other moment before with this same song.

In your ear, he sings along only for you, pulling away and twirling you as y’all take over the entire dancefloor with how free and loose you’re playing it. “You’re still the one that makes me laugh…still the one that’s my better half…we’re still havin’ fun and you’re still the one.”

At the next chorus, you join him in singing along, laughing at his excitement, both of you singing along louder. The song reaches the guitar solo, and Joel takes both of your hands, swinging you out from his chest before pulling you back in; he spins you to cross your arms in front of you, and your back to his chest before twirling you out. On the last line, when the final word is dragged out, he wraps his arms around you, spinning both of you around until the final chord strikes, setting you down and chests heaving to catch your breaths. Wide smiles still find your open mouths, cheers and whistles from the guests gathered around the dancefloor, now filling the checkered floor as the next song plays.

Breathless, Joel grins madly, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, “Think we did pretty damn good for unplanned, don’t you, Miller?”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was all the same, a night spent with your closest family and friends all celebrating the two of you and your love. Both you and Joel shared a dance with Sarah separately, relishing in her unbridled joy and Joel comforted his daughter when she shed a few tears about how happy she was. Your dad pulled you for a short jaunt around the dancefloor, and Joel asked your mom for a dance, which she accepted happily as a stand-in for his mom.

More drinks flowed into glasses and out of bottles, your shoes kicked off and Joel’s jacket and tie discarded onto the back of a chair somewhere. Your cheeks ached from how much you were smiling and laughing the whole time, a weight lifted, the promise of forever with your favorite person now on its way to being a reality.

You both ceremoniously cut the small single-tiered cake that your mom ordered, serving the slice on a plate. Grabbing a piece with your hands, you cheers it with Joel’s, watching as his went into his mouth and laughing as yours went across his cheek. He feigned shock, shaking his head as he looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, taking a step closer. A turn on the ball of your foot directs you in an attempt to get away; failing miserably, misstepping from your level of drunkenness, Joel catches you in his arms. Turning you back around to face him, he steals a purposefully sloppy kiss, buttercream smearing against your lips and chin, the taste of vanilla coating your tongue as it melts into the taste of Joel, whiskey, beer, and sugary sweetness from the dessert.

At the very end of the night, most guests in cabs home or retreat to their homes down the street, it’s left to your closest people. The last song of the night is announced by Chris, the same song that has come up again and again for the two of you trilling over the speakers. Everyone dances and sings along to American Pie, the perfect cyclical moment for the two of you, and the closing moment of your summer. Sarah dances with the two of you, laughing as Joel twirls her around, infectious smiles on their faces. 

Your heart grows in your chest, nearly to the point of bursting as you take a step back in your mind, taking in all of the moment as it surrounds you. In the backyard of your new house, the next chapter of your life starts with Joel and Sarah; right next door is your childhood home, full of love and memories with your parents and brother. Even through the hardships, these places and people have never stopped feeling like home.

The song finishes with a flourish, Joel tucking you into his chest after he scoops Sarah into his arms with a soft groan. Sarah lays her head on her dad drowsily and he presses a kiss to her forehead, mirroring the same on yours; a mumble against your skin is barely heard by you, his drawl exaggerated by the liquor, “Mi Mariposa y mariposita. My lil’ Bug. Love my girls so much.”

Tommy slides sleepy Sarah into his arms from Joel after you two say goodnight to her, the younger Miller brother already prepared the arrangement for her to stay at his on the night of your wedding. You reassure her the promise to meet at Waffle House in the morning, which will likely be the afternoon with the state of the adults. Maria, the designated driver, and Tommy, much closer to sober than drunk than you were expecting, send another congratulations your way before they’re off to the car with Sarah.

After the necessary sweep of cleaning is done between you two and your immediate family, food, drink, and lanterns gathered, they part ways, taking everything back to theirs to deal with in the morning along with striking down the tables, chairs, and dancefloor. In the quiet of the early morning hours, you and Joel stand with your arms around each other, swaying gently. Cheek to chest, Joel’s voice rasps from overuse, vibrating your ear pressed against him, “Was it what you wanted, sweet girl?”

“Everything and more, J. I loved it,” you say as you pull your head away, tilting your chin to look into his eyes, “And I love you, m’husband.”

“I love you more, m’wife.” He shakes his head, biting a smile back, “Don’t think m’ever gonna get tired of callin’ you that, Mari.”

“Me neither. Gonna be callin’ you my husband instead of usin’ your name,” you flirt as your smirk grows and he wiggles his eyebrows, hand drifting down to the curve of your ass.

“Guess we better test that theory, baby.” He grins as he bends his knees, lifting you over his shoulder. His other hand rests on your ass to balance you, your hands pressing against his lower back as you shriek slightly from the initial shock. “Want the whole neighborhood to know m’your husband now. Even if they weren’t invited, so you better be loud, m’gorgeous wife.”

He walks you both up the stairs and through the backdoor, your snort echoing in the quiet of the night, pulling out the ol’ faithful from the early days with him, “Yes, sir.”

second nature

“What do you think about getting a dog?” you ask from your seat on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in your lap. Joel pops his head out from the en-suite, brow quirked as he continues to towel off his hair and laugh softly.

“Can’t say I’ve thought about it, darlin’.” He disappears again, hanging his towel on the back of the door before coming back out of the bathroom with a clean pair of boxers on, washed up from his long day on-site. “Have you been thinking about getting a dog?”

A sheepish grin stretches across your face, shrugging your shoulders as Joel gets into bed. He matches your position, leaning back against the headboard and turning his head toward you. He’s intrigued. If he wasn’t, he’d tell you that you could talk about it more in the morning, and then he would give you his honest opinion in the light of day. Never wanting to start a silly argument before bed, always attempting to keep the peace.

Which made him great at compromising. To what you wanted in the first place.

“I’ve been thinking it would be nice for Sarah. Like something to learn responsibility — teaching her to feed it on schedule and take it for walks and fill the water bowl.”

“Yeah, it’ll teach her that I’ll take on all those responsibilities when she gets bored of it,” your husband snorts at his own comment, making you roll your eyes playfully and scoot closer.

“Oh, c’mon, J. Don’t you think it would be fun to have a dog around? We wouldn’t even need to get a puppy if you think it’s too much. But I work at home nannying baby Amelia so I’d be around all day and then when Sarah gets home from school or camp, she can take him or her for a walk. And then feed it before you even get home. Oh! Or you could take the dog to work with you! How cute would that be, you could train him to grab your tools for you.” 

A contagious smile brightens your face in the low lamplight, one that Joel can’t help but mirror on his own face. The eagerness is evident in your expression and your voice, and the proposition doesn’t seem like it would be too difficult of an adjustment. Shaking his head at your suggestions, he laughs quietly while reaching a hair up to smooth your hair away from your face.

“Are you gonna be the one to teach it what all the different screwdrivers are?” 

An excited gasp exhales and you scramble to straddle Joel’s lap, “Wait, are you serious? You’re actually okay with getting a dog?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you lean back to look at his face. His hands find the curve where your thighs melt into your ass, squeezing gently. Always handsy.

“Yeah, baby, we can get a dog.” Joel groans dramatically when you pull yourself tight against him, hugging him while on hand rubs back and forth at the base of your spine. “I’ve got some conditions though.”

Unraveling from his neck, you stay perched in his lap, nodding fervently. “Anything. Whatever you want, if it means we get a dog.”

“Oh, anything?” he teases with another squeeze of your bum, laughing when you shoot him a look.

“Not what I meant, Miller. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Can’t help it with you, sweet girl. My mind’s always in the gutter around you.” The sentiment is punctuation with a tender kiss to your lips and one to your forehead. Calloused palms skate along your bare thighs, humming contently, “Conditions are: has to be a big dog. Don’t want one of those little white dogs or like something that’ll break if we have babies and they’re a little rough with it.”

The forethought he has for your future children warms your heart, and you agree immediately, “Deal. Didn’t want a little dog anyways. What else?”

“Gotta fence in the backyard. I don’t mind putting in a gate for us and your parents to easily go back and forth through, but I don’t want the chance of the dog gettin’ out when we’re all outside.”

“Totally understandable. I’ll even help you install the fence,” you offer proudly.

“That’s real sweet, Mari baby, thank you. You don’t gotta lift a finger though, I’ll bring some of the guys over and pay a little extra and we’ll get it done in a day, no problem.”

“Alright, so big dog, fence. Anything else you’d like to negotiate, Mr. Miller?” you mock a formal tone, turning your nose up. Joel laughs, tightening his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. Kisses press into your neck and along your jaw, pausing inches away from your lips as he makes his final request.

“Dog sleeps in Sarah’s room or downstairs. I like our privacy.” He smirks before kissing you deeply, easily flipping you onto your back and hovering above you. Your legs hook around his waist and he raises his eyebrows, “That all sound fair to you, Mariposa?”

“Absolutely it does. Guess we’re getting a dog, ri—” You’re cut off by his lips on yours again, pressing you further into the mattress with his body weight.

“Let’s save the rest of this for the morning,” Joel mumbles against your skin as he trails his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, “‘Cause right now, I think I’d rather get some pussy.”

He doubles over in laughter at his own joke, forehead pressing against your chest as his shoulders heave. Your fingers comb into his hair, unable to fight quiet chuckles of your own no matter how hard you try to not give him the satisfaction.

“God, you’re such a dork.”

The clock rolls to 3pm as you sit in your car, lined up along with parents of campers. Shrills of laughter and screams echo from the bright, primary-colored playground across the way, counselors attempting to corral the kids to lead them out for pick-up. Air conditioning blasts on you as you fan at the back of your neck, exhaling in the sweltering Texan heat. It’s only the beginning of summer, June barely having turned over, but the temperatures have reached record highs for the year already.

Your stepdaughter. The thought still makes you smile months on, the dynamic between the two of you falling naturally into a closer, more nurturing relationship. Little acknowledgments from Sarah have made your heart sing over the days; routinely saying goodnight to you along with Joel, asking you for permission to go play outside, seeking you out nearly as much as Joel when she has had a nightmare. The pair of you have built routines of your own before bed, you making a promise to Sarah to read with her and to show her your favorite books from when you were her age.

A few nights ago, Sarah had retreated with you to her room, at least thirty minutes before her bedtime to get in another chapter of Matilda by Roald Dahl. The main character reminded you of Sarah’s sweet and spunky personality, and you were so excited that she fell in love with the story and its characters as quickly as you did when you read it for the first time.

Sat up against her headboard, Sarah laid back in your arms and cracked open the novel where her bookmark stuck out, started to read aloud to you in the low lamplight. Mindlessly, you played with her hair as you listened to her confidently recite the words from the page. The day caught up to you, the peaceful moment pulled a yawn from your lungs. Sarah’s words slowed down, her eyes slowly blinking until they closed, which was your queue to slip the book from her hands and mark the spot, and laid it on her nightstand.

When you tried to slip out from behind her to leave her to sleep soundly, she stirred, mumbling the sweetest, “Will you stay for a little bit, Posey?”

And you had no choice but to oblige her request. After getting comfortable next to her, Sarah curled into your side and you pressed a kiss to her forehead, continued to play with her hair to soothe her back to sleep.

What you hadn’t realized was that you also drifted off in her twin bed with her, the lamp still on. Joel was watching TV downstairs, waiting for you to retreat down the steps as you do every night, but no sign of you after an hour had him standing up to go searching. It was quiet when he reached the top of the stairs, no telling giggles or loud whispers to give the two of you away. 

He pushed open the cracked door of Sarah’s bedroom, and was met with a sight that squeezed his heart tight, a sigh exhaled from his lungs. You tucked right next to his little one, and both slept deeply. Without disturbing your rest, he tiptoed over to the nightstand, tugged the blanket up over both of you before he hovered above the bed to press a gentle kiss to each of your foreheads. 

Lamp clicked off, he whispered to your unconscious ears, “G’night, girls. Love you two.”

It was a few hours before your usual alarm when you’d woken up, sore from the small space and glanced around the dark room to discover you had fallen asleep next to Sarah. Carefully slipped out from the covers, you tucked her back in and padded down the hall to your bedroom where Joel was sleeping, a soft snore came from him as he’d starfished out on the mattress. You gently shook him half awake to move him, and he groaned softly at the disruption before he tugged you into his chest and pressed a drowsy kiss to your shoulder.

“Was jus’ too cute to wake you up, Mari baby. My Mariposa and my lil’ Bug…” He hummed sleepily into your skin, hand gently rubbed circles in your lower belly while your eyes close, desperate for those last few hours of slumber. “Makes me so happy.”

“Me too, J. M’so, so happy she’s that comfortable with me. My baby best friend. And you’re my big baby best friend…” You breathed out an airy giggle and Joel protested weakly behind you, a gentle pinch to your side before you both exchanged a quick “love you” and drifted right back off.

The reminder of the sweet moment in the morning from Joel was the highlight of your week.

Climbing out of the car, the engine running and door open, you round the front bumper and stand on the curb to wait. You find her before she finds you, calling out to her to grab her attention, “Hey, sweet pea!”

Her familiar deep brown irises search for the source of your voice, landing on your face and waving excitedly. Sarah checks out with her counselor for the day, scurrying over to you with her backpack bouncing at her shoulders.

“Hi, Posey!”

She collides with your torso, her growth spurts finally starting over the last few months so the top of her head hits just at your chest, and nearly knocks the wind out of you. Patting her back, you laugh and pull her back to look her in the face, “Well, hello to you too, Sare Bear. How was camp today? You ready to go?”

After your greetings, she climbs into the backseat on the opposite side of Amelia’s car seat. You store her bag in the passenger seat with yours before retreating around to the driver’s side, heading off once both of you are secured in your seatbelts.

Flicking your eyes up in the rearview mirror, the two of you catch up, which mostly consists of her recapping the camp activities and excitedly talking about the pool day that’s planned for Friday. As you turn onto your street, Sarah’s brow furrows at the sight of Joel’s truck in the driveway.

“Dad’s home already? That’s weird.”

“Hm, I guess he is. Or maybe he’s just stopped by to grab something he forgot. You know how he is.”

Sarah laughs in agreement as you park your car next to his truck. Both of you get out and head in through the garage, straight into the kitchen where Joel’s standing at the counter eating a sandwich.

“Told you, Sare, stopped by ‘cause he forgot something. Lunch.” You send him a teasing grin as you deposit Sarah’s bag by the door and kick off your sandals. She does the same before wandering past her dad to the fridge in search of a snack. Apple doesn’t fall far.

“What? I can’t happen to drop in hoping to see my wife and my daughter in the middle of my work day? Do I have to have ulterior motives?” Joel speaks, words muffling around the bite in his mouth as you approach the island to stand opposite him.

“Dad, you literally always ask ‘What’s for dinner?’ or ‘What’s cookin’?’ after you say hi to us every day. Your motivation is always to get some food,” Sarah chimes in from in front of the fridge, laughing when Joel looks at her offended.

“See? Even a ten year old recognizes the pattern of behavior,” you confirm your findings, laughing as Joel grumbles to himself and pops the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth.

“Well, for your information, both of you, I am here for an entirely different reason than lunch and to see you two.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking between the two of you with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t y’all go look in the living room and then tell me if you wanna keep makin’ fun of Dad?”

Sarah excitedly starts off toward the living room, giddy about the surprise awaiting her. Your brow furrows and lips twist up in curiosity, eyes staying glued to Joel. He laughs and nods to the other room, a bright smile on his face.

“Better go see, mi amor. Think you’ll want to meet him.” Joel winks, your attention being pulled away when you both hear Sarah gasp from the living room.

“Oh my gosh! Posey, come here! Aw!”

That’s when it registers — the surprise, home in the middle of the day, the smirk, ‘you’ll want to meet him’.

“You didn’t,” you breathe out, head snapping back to Joel as he gives you a wide, genuine grin.

“Go! See for yourself.” He rounds the island and grabs your hips from behind, guiding your steps into the living room. Sarah’s giggles fill the room as the fluffy Bernese Mountain puppy stands in her lap and licks at her face. The small dog’s attention is pulled from her and over to you and Joel entering the room, a tiny bark sounding before he scampers over.

“Joel, oh my god, how did you—when—oh my god…” You kneel down to scoop up the little one into your arms and cuddle it gently, giving it pets before letting him run around again.

“Found someone who had a litter with their family dogs the day after we talked about it. And arranged to pick him up. They said he’s the energetic one, and that he’s gonna be a big boy. Like a hundred pounds.”

“Oh my god, he’s so sweet…thank you, J.” You beam up at him, waving him to bend down and steal a kiss, squeezing his shoulder.

Sarah’s playing with your new family dog, tugging with a rope toy as he fights back with his whole little body. “Thank you, Dad. He’s so cute!”

“What should we name him?” Joel asks as he lowers himself to the floor next to you, smiling as the puppy runs over. The two rough house, Joel easily flipping him over to scratch at his belly as the dog pants happily.

“Any ideas, Sare?” you ask, looking over at her.

She thinks for a moment before looking up between Joel and you, laughing at the tiny pup’s antics, “What about Goose? He just seems like one. Like a silly goose.”

“Goose? I like it, Bug,” Joel confirms, turning to you with a grin, “How about you, Mari?”

Nodding, you look at the new addition to the family, burning bright with happiness at your people’s excitement, “I think Goose is a perfect fit. And now you’re not outnumbered anymore, J. Two girls and two boys in the Miller household.”

Sarah laughs and lays down to cuddle with Goose while Joel moves closer to your side, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head as he quietly whispers, “Hopefully won’t be too long before the boys are outnumbered again.”

“And what makes you say it won’t be us girls being outnumbered?”

“Call it father’s intuition. Wouldn’t know what to do with a little boy, bein’ a dad to another girl would just be second nature. Plus, I would want a mini Mari running around the world.” Joel presses a kiss to your temple before you turn your head, catching his pursed lips with yours sweetly.

“I’d take anything if it means havin’ a little piece of you forever, J.”

third time lucky

Negative.

A single line, bold and brash, stares back at you. Turning the plastic in your hands, you attempt to read it at different angles, the smallest bit of hope lingering for another line to appear — that it was a trick of the light that was causing your disappointment.

To no avail, the blue strip remains unaccompanied in the small window. A sinking feeling fills your body from your toes up. Everything feels heavier, except your lower stomach. That has never felt as empty as it is now.

Heavy footsteps thump a vibration in the floors, but your focus remains on a speck of dust floating in the light past your field of vision. His presence hangs in the bedroom, milling about, unknowing of what you were up to before he came in from mowing the lawn.

“Hey, baby, m’gonna take a shower and then we’ve got Sarah’s softball game at three. Probably half to leave here around two, her coach asked all the parents to be thirty minutes early for some reason…” Joel’s voice fades in your head as your thoughts start to yell, scream, fight, taunt inside of your mind.

A hard swallow pops your ears, the ringing in them growing louder as your mind begins to wander. The test is left discarded on the bathroom counter, with no heart yet to throw it in the garbage where the others have ended up. Your bare feet shuffle against the rug as you seek out solace under covers, even in the ninety-plus-degree heat. The springs of the mattress shift under your weight, lying on your side facing the opposite side of the bed that lays empty right now. The coverlet is pulled up over you, curling your fingers at the hem tightly, white knuckle grip to release some of the tension that has taken over your mind. You want to scream, cry, yell, question — but what you want most of all is to be able.

Why aren’t you able? Why can’t you do what your body is made to do, what it begs for, what it reminds you that you’ve failed at every month?

Joel stands in observation of you, careful distance, one hand lifting before he drops it. He can guess what this is about. What you’ve left behind in the en-suite. But to confirm his suspicions, he quietly walks into the tiled room, leaving his clean clothes on the counter while he picks up the test.

Negative.

His body sinks, toes up to his head, but with a gaping, empty feeling in his chest. There’s so much room left in his heart, room he is eager to fill with another part of you, another love, another soul to protect. Now, though, all of his emptiness is filled with an ache for you. You’ve been dreaming out loud for a year now, wonderings and visions shared with him late nights and early mornings — Will they have his eyes? You hope so, so that they look like their sister. Who’s ears would they have? What quirks will they pick up from both of you? Who will they grow up to be? How will we be able to contain our love for both of our kids?

Our kids. Joel remembers that night; after you said that, he couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t contain his love for you. No hesitation that his own was yours now, too. All he wanted was to give you another, to see your belly grow and your smile brighten and your skin glow. He was begging for whatever power was in the universe for that time to take, for both of you to be gifted with what you wished for so often, so deeply.

Desperation. Wavering confidence. Sorrow, worry, dwindling hope. He saw it all over you, time after time when the single line appeared on the plastic sticks.

You and Joel had been trying for a year. A long year. Maybe your desire was too strong, too overpowering. But shouldn’t that be a sign of your love? For each other, for your family? All he wants to do is give you the life you’ve wished for. And yes, all you’ve said you want is a life with him, but anyone who meets you would be able to tell you are meant for a nurturing life. Meant for motherhood.

It was already natural for you, taking a ten-year-old in stride, making her into your best friend — making her a priority over Joel most of the time. He knew it didn’t matter to you that she wasn’t yours, biologically speaking, but he can’t help but want to give you a child that is part you. How badly he wants another piece of you in the world, all of your goodness packaged into the purest soul.

Resigning with a sigh, he sets the test down on the cool countertop and exits the bathroom, a slow stride over to your lying form. Crumpled under covers. With a soft groan, he lowers himself to his knees with cracks popping his joints. His age is starting to show the closer he gets to forty and the more hours he works in the summer weather, another looming factor for him — he’s only known being a young dad. If you two have to wait, what would it be like to be nearly sixty when your kid graduates high school?

Shaking the superficial concerns from his head, his wide palm glides along the quilted fabric draped over your side. He rests his chin on his opposite arm, laying against the mattress close to your pillow. At the coax of his touch, you turn over to face him. Lips pursed in a frown, dried watery streaks being washed anew with your fresh tears, fat and rolling down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. They drip off of your skin, dotting and darkening the fabric of the pillowcase underneath you.

Joel leans in, brushing your hair from your face and pressing his lips to your forehead for a lingering kiss. A deep breath draws the smell of your shampoo into his nose, down deep into his lungs where it soothes his aching chest.

“Mari, sweet girl, I know it’s hard. I know we want it so bad, but there’s always another option,” he speaks softly, kindly, delicately, “We can go to that fertility specialist your doctor recommended. I promise, mi amor, we’ll have a baby together.”

He means it, and you can tell he means it. Ever since you had been back together, ever since he confessed his feelings for you — years ago now — he hasn’t made an empty promise. From tiny little things like a pledge to stop on the way home for your favorite ice cream, going to three different stores and adding nearly an hour to his day simply to show up with it for you, to larger, grander oaths, his wedding vows, the promise of building a beautiful life with you.

Emotion is thick in your throat as you attempt to vocalize your concerns. They keep you up at night, with Joel’s warm and expansive hand resting on your stomach right above your womb as he sleeps soundly. He wants it clearly as much as you do; you can feel it each time you’ve tried. How badly he wants to provide this for you.

Is he having the same thoughts as you? Does he wonder if something’s ‘wrong’ with you?

“I wanna be able to do it. Why can’t I do it on my own?” The sound of your meek voice shatters his heart and he shakes his head back and forth, adamant in shutting down the thoughts.

Tugging the covers down, Joel’s hands find your exposed skin, sliding across with a clammy touch from his labor outside. And nerves, too, you’d guess. Moving from his knees on the floor next to the bed, he finds a spot sitting at your side and shifts you to lay on your back. Opening up to him. Warmth rests over your womb, blanket pulled down to the tops of your thighs while his thumb brushes at your stomach, catching on the fabric of your shirt.

“No—oh, mi Mariposa, you don’t even know if it would be you with an issue. Very well could be me. Maybe breathin’ all the paint fumes at work killed m’little swimmers.” He breathes a small laugh through his nose, attempting to lighten the mood.

Your hands fly up to your face, muffling your voice, “Oh, god, don’t say that. I wanna have your baby, not some sperm donors.”

His hand coasts up your torso, over to your side to wrap around your rib cage, feeling your breaths as his fingertips lightly tickle the spot, “That was supposed to make you laugh, sweet girl.” 

Hands falling away from your face, your brow pinches together and your frown deepens. About to make a retort, your mouth open, Joel skates the fingertips of both his hands up and down your sides, alternated on each side of you to make it harder to catch his wrists. Laughter bubbles up from your chest, your frown morphing into a flashing smile before you’re calling for a surrender in between gasping breaths.

Relenting, his hands stop, settling at the curve of your waist. He leans over you, nudging his nose against yours before pressing a ghosting kiss to your lips. A small grin, hopeful and reassuring, with a tinge of worry flickering in his irises, barely there before his smile reaches his eyes, “It’ll happen for us, Mari baby. Why don’t we say, one last go before lookin’ into the doctors? We’ll do all the things, track whatever we need to track. I’ll drop whatever I need to come home and put a baby in you.”

Joel wiggles his eyebrows, playful smirk crossing his expression. You roll your eyes under him, pushing an accusing finger into his chest, “Like you don’t already do that. I could call you in the middle of work and just go ‘Hey, J’ and you’re in the truck on your way home.”

“That’s right, Mari. As it should be. Y’know what they say — happy wife, happy life.” Another kiss to your lips, this one a bit more savoring. “What d’ya say, mi amor? One more go?”

“Okay, yeah. One more go.”

Butterflies kick up in your stomach when you hear the low rumble of Joel’s truck cut, heavy door swinging closed and quick strides following. The front door opens after a short jingle of keys, shutting behind him with the slide of the lock back into place. Distant grumbles of his make you laugh, his frustrations with his work boots floating upstairs to where you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on your hands. Clad in only your bra and panties, you work your bottom lip between your teeth as anticipation builds with each of Joel’s footsteps up the carpeted stairs.

You both only have the afternoon — less than an hour of your afternoon, actually — to make your last attempt. Already having taken advantage of the window in your cycle twice, the peak day of your ovulation fell, of course, during the busiest time of year for Miller Construction. Summer has come to a close, and now people have picked up their home improvements to start nesting for the winter; a craving you’ve been having yourself, desperate to make your home larger and livelier by one more. Joel has snuck away for a moment that you two have alone, and you’ve told the couple you nanny for that you have an immovable appointment for today.

Pretty sure the only thing that will be immovable today will be you once Joel’s hour is up.

 “Mari? Mi amor?” he calls out and you chuckle softly at the boyish excitement in his voice.

“In the bedroom, J!”

Joel rounds the doorway into your shared room, stopping a handful of steps past the threshold when he registers the sight of you. He hums a low moan, licking his lips as his eyes devour your lacy undergarments, “Mierda, mi esposa, estás tratando de matarme? (Shit, my wife, are you trying to kill me?) You look so fucking beautiful, darlin’.”

A low whistle leaves his lips as he stalks closer, eyes rake over your form as you present your primped self for his taking.

“You get all pretty for me, sweet girl? I like this…” he rasps as he’s within arm’s reach now, stretching a hand out to toy with the strap of your bra and snapping it against your skin sharply.

“Wanted to look pretty when you fill me up, J.” One curl of his finger under your chin draws you to sit up straight, tilting your head back to look at Joel towering over you.

“Good girl,” he praises, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “You want me to fill up your sweet little cunt, Mariposa? Want me to give you a baby? Tell me.”

“Yes,” you breathe out shakily, eyelids fluttering closed as his hands trail lightly across your exposed skin, ghosting everywhere you need him most.

“More, sweetheart. Dime. Dime cuánto lo deseas. Suplicar por ello. (Tell me. Tell me how badly you want it. Beg for it.)” His instructions float through your head, only keywords translating in while Joel leaves over you, lips pressing feather-light kisses along your neck, across your chest.

“I need it, Joel. Need you so fucking bad, I wanna have your baby. Want you to make me a mom, fill me up as many times as it takes until we get our baby…please, J…” As if the taste of you wasn’t enough to do him in, the wild, fervent look in your eyes intrigues him beyond. Hearing the words from your lips, directed to him, he’s fucking aching. He was growing hard on his way over here, the thoughts swimming through his mind of you laid out and ready for him to take delegating his blood supply to rush down below his belt.

He needs you, but first, he needs to see you unraveling underneath him only from his fingers.

“Don’t worry your pretty little mind, Mari. M’gonna take care of you. I’ll make sure this one takes. Let’s call it third time lucky this summer.” 

He shoots you a wink, your mouth parting to respond. Before you can let any breath escape, his lips are crashing with yours. Heavy, heady, and so fucking hot it spirals your thoughts into nothing. His tongue melts with yours, the taste of his black coffee and the donut he must have eaten at work this morning tingling your taste buds. Sweat sticks to his skin when your hands rest at the sides of his neck, falling backwards as he climbs over you. He smells of wood shavings, freshly mowed grass, and hard work — calloused hands gliding along your body and feeling the softest of scratches of his blue collar hands.

“Joel, need you — please.” It’s more of a whine than a begging whimper, rising frustration levels from his lack of touch in the place you need and want him the most. 

Your cunt is desperate, dripping down your folds and surely soaking the sheets. A quick jerk of your hips attempts to brush against him, to catch any relief for the need building low in your stomach. A large palm presses your lower half back against the mattress, the other hand pushing your leg to the side to open you up further for him. A knuckle brushes your clit, grazing up and down your seam through your soaked panties. Your husband clicks his tongue as he shakes his head at you, patronizing tone slick in his voice.

“Darlin’, I wanna take every second of my time with you. Are you gonna let me? Gonna let me get your cunt squeezing my fingers? Gonna let me fill you up, mi amor?” he asks, as if you wouldn’t say yes to all of those requests and he knows it. Nodding, a desperate yes exhaled when he applies more pressure with his finger against your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Good girl. Siempre tan bueno para mí. (Always so good for me.)”

Joel folds over your, taking one of your perked nipples into his mouth through your bra and sucking. His tongue flattens against the cup before he’s pulling at the nub with his teeth. The material is darkened where his mouth was when he grows a bit more needy, grabbing at the straps and yanking the bra to rest at your midsection. You slip your arms out of the straps and he pushes you further onto the bed by the back of your thighs, stripping your panties off and settling on his knees.

Pressure forms against your clit from two of his fingers, slow circles dragging a moan from your throat. Joel smirks, satisfied with the way you squirm under him, trying and failing to get more from his hands. Before you can vocalize a whine, Joel is over you again, bringing his attention to your now bare breast while the circles continue. Hot, humid kisses are littered on the soft skin, happy hums rolling from Joel’s chest. He pulls his head up, looking down at your chest with a half grin and his dimple on display.

“You’re gonna get so soft and swollen everywhere, Mariposa. Round belly, huge tits—can’t wait to play with ‘em.” His grin widens, boyish and brazen with the glee that the fact fills him with. “You gonna let me, baby? Gonna let me make your sore tits feel better with my mouth?”

His question goes unanswered as his mouth attaches to one of your nipples, sucking and flattening his tongue as he nurses it. Pulling away with a pop, he mimics the same on the other side, the intensity of his suckling along with his fingers rubbing faster against your clit — even slipping down to tease at your entrance — has you wiggling under him, desperation notching up your spine.

“Joel, please,” you plead, choking on your breath when he pulls the bud of your breast between his teeth, a low growling sound rumbling from his throat. 

Two of his thick fingers push into your dripping cunt, a relieved moan echoing against the walls of the bedroom. Curling up into your spongy walls, they thrust quickly and pet at the certain spot inside of you. Joel’s mouth is still at your chest, his hunger feeding itself on the taste of your skin.

“Fuck, Mari, gonna break my fucking fingers off. So fucking tight.”

A distraught whimper crawls from your chest, breaths heaving as your walls clench around his quick-paced fingers. You gasp when he slips a third one in, hooking them up. Despite the stretch, you still feel an emptiness. All you want is his cock inside of you, spilling into you and leaving you to grow fuller with his baby. The thoughts of him above you, fucking it all deeper into you to reach your womb, drive you over the edge. The tips of his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his warm mouth hanging open at your tit while his eyes watch you come undone. Writhing and walls pulsing around his fingers, his name falls from your mouth as you choke out moans and your vision grows dark.

“That’s it, Mari baby, fuck,” Joel works you through the orgasm before his fingers leave you and he sits back on his haunches. Sucking his digits clean of your slick and come, the other hand rubs your thigh gently before he coos down at you, “That was a big one, wasn’t it? Feel good?”

Still coming down from it all, your body feels liquidity, taking whatever form Joel is molding you into right now after he’s stripped himself bare. One hand slips under you, unclasping your bra and tugging it away from your torso, leaving you as naked as him. His eyes drink in your body while his grip holds your calves, chuckling darkly when you finally breathe out a response, “I feel…like I need you to put a baby in me.”

“Cualquier cosa para usted, mi esposa. Vas a estar tan lleno de mí. Te encanta la sensación de mi mecos dentro de ti, ¿verdad? (Anything for you, my wife. You're going to be so full of me. You love the feeling of my cum inside of you, don't you?)” Your head rolls with a nod, agreeing to anything Joel says in the moment, still hazy from how hard he’d made you come moments ago. Half-lidded eyes watch as he licks his fingers, stroking his cock a few times with a quiet sigh. That’s something you could watch all day — Joel’s pleasure. And here underneath him, you have the perfect view, and the perfect position to be used for it.

Fully handing over control to him, his hands tug you up so your ass sits on his thighs while he’s on his knees. Fingertips skate along the distance of your legs, grabbing at your calves to rest them on his broad shoulders. Even the slightest shift forward from his hips stretches you wide, a delicious ache creating a craving for more.

“Tell me how bad you want it, Mari, tell me how much you wanna have my baby.”

Joel’s gripping his length, rubbing his tip through your wet folds. The notches against your clit quiver the already stretched muscles in your thighs, whines replacing words coming out of your mouth.

“Tell me, or I won’t give you what you want, mi amor.”

“I want it so bad, J. I wanna feel you fuck me so full of you, and I don’t want that feeling to leave. I feel like there’s an emptiness and only you can fill it, I want your baby. Wanna have everyone know how good I am for you, carrying your baby like you want me to. I wanna have a part of you forever,” you gasp out the last word, Joel’s cock inching into you. Muscle memory takes over, your whole body relaxing with the knowledge that he’ll take care of you — he’ll always take care of you.

Joel bottoms out easily, filling you to the hilt before he pauses to take a breath. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, sweet and sincere, while holding your shins, “I fucking love you, mi Mariposa. Wanna give you a baby…”

“Pleasepleaseplease—” You don’t know if you’re begging more for him to give you what you want or to move his hips, but in the end, you get both. 

Joel starts out slow, shallow thrusts keeping him inside of you. Grunts from the controlled movements fill the room, your small whimpers following each noise he makes. The sound of him fucking into your cunt captures his attention, gaze zeroed in on where you two meet. Watching the stretch of your tight pussy around his cock, he feels the burning desire for more. To watch you take it deeper, harder.

The next snap of his hips is just that - smacking his skin against your ass before he adjusts, laying you back completely on the mattress and leaning over you. Your legs are still hooked over his shoulders, the burning of your muscles now straining your hamstrings and glutes. His entire body folds you, his head hovering over yours as he fucks into you further. The tip of his cock kisses your womb, the force of his thrusts driving your hips open more for him.

“Gonna — fuck — gonna make you a momma, Mariposa. That what you want? Get fucked so well, be so full of me that we make a baby? Everybody’s gonna know I treat my wife right. With your round belly…swollen—ah—swollen tits. Gonna be so beautiful, and so fucking sensitive everywhere.”

His words only add onto the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, nearly verging on too far and too much. Moans exhale on your lips, his name repeated like a chant with each harsh snap of him into you. Your hands scramble for purchase as his sheer power drives you up the mattress, sheets scratching against your bare back. One set of fingers dig into the meaty flesh of his shoulder, nails pressing crescent shapes like an iron-hot branding.

Above you, Joel studies how your mouth has fallen open, thoughts completely left your mind with how cockdrunk you are. He gingerly grips your chin, holding it to face him and commanding your eyes to his as he pants heavily.

“What d’you wanna make me, baby?” It’s only met with the sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you, the slap of skin as you gasp under him. “C’mon, Mari baby, use your words.”

“A daddy,” you breathe out, your opposite hand combing into his messy curls and gripping tight.

“Say it again. Dime.” Not thinking it was possible, Joel pushes you further, hitting into you harder with each thrust nudging his tip toward your cervix. You might only leave this afternoon with soreness, but you continued to hold out hope for a baby to be the well-worth prize for how you’re going to feel tomorrow.

“A daddy!”

“Dime. Dime. Dime,” he commands and you listen, writhing under him as he hacks away at your shared resolve, throwing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy — oh, fuck, a daddy. Wanna make you a daddy!” You’re yelling at this point, sobs of pleasure wracking your body and you thank god for a split second that the two of you are home alone in the middle of the work day. Surely the whole block might be hearing all of your wanton sounds.

“God, I could get used to you calling me that, Mari baby,” Joel groans and throws his head back, bearing his teeth as he punches his hips into your clenching pussy, the telltale sign that you’re close.

“C’mon, mi amor, give it to me. Come for me and I’ll let your fucking pussy milk me for every last drop. That’s what you want, right? Gotta fill you up and make a baby for my Mari baby.” He’s rambling as you reach your peak, toes curling and coming even harder than your first one this afternoon. 

A near scream pulls itself from as deep as your gut, the sound as if you were in more pain than the absolute pleasure you feel. Your grip on his hair tightens, drawing him down for a messy kiss as you mumble against his lips.

“Please gimme a baby, J. Need it all inside of me, please. Come for me, mi esposo.” 

The name sends goosebumps across his shoulders and trickles down his spine before he’s barking your name once and spilling into you, painting your walls with each rope. He takes a moment to breathe before he gently presses his hips in a few short thrusts, fucking his spend as far into you as possible.

Joel collapses against your torso, no other efforts exerted to move away. Delicate, nimble touches brush the hair from his sweaty forehead, rubbing his shoulders as he hums contently.

“Fuck, baby, might just have to stay inside. Keep you plugged up so I can stay here all day with you.” Quiet, breathless laughter leaves your lips as you shake your head, tracing along his jaw before he turns his head to press his lips into your tummy.

“Can’t wait for you to be a momma. Gonna be the best one ever, y’already are. Love you so much.”

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, only to be reminded of Joel’s limited schedule when his cell starts ringing from downstairs. Getting up with a groan, he slips out of you and lifts your hips, stuffing a pillow or two underneath them to keep your lower half elevated. You roll your eyes at the superstitious gesture, gasping when his fingers push into you once more to put his leaking come back into where it belongs.

“Gotta make sure it takes, pretty girl. Wanna see you get all round with my baby in you. Everybody’ll know how good I am to you, huh? Pumping you full of me so much we made a new fucking life…better stay like this until I get home again, Mari baby. Wanna make sure those lil swimmers get all the help they can get.”

“Mm…” you hum, hands grabbing for him to lean over you again. Sneaking a kiss, you pull away to whisper to him with a grin on your lips, “Better get back to work…daddy.”

He snorts out a laugh, beaming a bright smile as mischief glimmers in his eyes, “Mal. Mala chica. (Bad. Bad girl.)”

Three days late. You’ve been tracking your cycle like a mad woman, ticking off days in the notebook next to your bed, and now you’re officially three days late. Joel and you had agreed to wait a few days after you expected your period, hopeful that the extra time meant a more accurate, and desired, result.

The kitchen timer sitting on Joel’s side of the bed ticks away while you side on the edge of the bed. Tapping your fingers against your thighs, bare skin against your fingertips from the high hem of your denim shorts. Joel paces the room, eyes focused a thousand yards ahead. Anxiety and anticipation had been plaguing both of you all day, work slugging by minute by minute, second by second. Joel had left the jobsite as soon as was acceptable, leaving Tommy to wrap up, and swung by the pharmacy to pick up a new box of tests. Your task for the day was to chug water, or any liquid, all afternoon — by the time Joel was one foot through the door, you were ready to burst. Snatching the bag of tests out of his hand, you ran to the bathroom to pee in a plastic disposable cup and stick at least three tests in.

Now, you two are waiting for more seconds and minutes to tick by, added to the tally of the entire day. As you’re about to stand and stop Joel from burning treads in the area rug from walking his tight circles, a trill of a bell vibrating demands your attention. Turning off the noise in a flash, you stand and cross the room to where your husband is now frozen in place. A gentle touch to his cheek, his eyelids flutter close and he takes a long exhale before opening them again.

“Ready?” you ask, uncertainty pitching your voice up.

A minute nod, one shake of his chin, Joel’s hand finds the small of your back as he responds, “Ready, mi amor.”

His hand guides you into the bathroom, and a handful of steps from the three tests laid out on the counter, you turn around, panic twisting your expression. Joel stumbles to stop his collision with you, large palms grabbing onto your biceps to catch himself.

“M’scared, J…” Your voice is meek, cracking with emotion. This is the last shot you gave yourselves, whatever is laid on the counter either means unbridled joy or a long road of poking and prodding in countless doctors’ offices.

The warmth of his hands rubbing your arms and the press of his lips to your forehead coax you to relax, to take deep breaths, “I know, Mari baby, I would be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t scared too. But no matter what is on those tests, we’re in it together, right sweet girl?”

His index finger hooks under your chin to draw your attention up to his face, a small smile filled with love and reassurance stretching his lips.

“Always in it together, J.” You take another deep breath, turning around and nodding shortly, “Okay, now m’ready.”

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles before he’s following right behind you again, the two of you pressing yourselves to each other against the counter. Joel has an iron grip on your hips, nerves manifesting in the squeezes of his hands. Shaking fingers turn over each test before picking them all up to your lines of vision.

Two lines. Two bold lines screaming at both of you, across all three tests.

Positive.

Positive. You’re pregnant. You and Joel are having a baby.

“Holy shit…” Joel exhales behind you, smile creeping into his voice. Somehow, his grip gets even tighter as he turns you around, “Holy shit! You’re pregnant, Mari. We’re havin’ a baby! You’re gonna be a momma!”

Giddiness overcomes both of you, happy and disbelieving laughter while you hold each other in a tight embrace. Joel litters kisses around your face, catching your lips last — all teeth and tight lipped from your matching grins.

“You’re gonna be a dad again, how’s that feel?”

“Like I won the damn lottery, mi amor.”

Another kiss, supple and heavy. Joel pulls away first and shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you so fucking much, Mari.”

“I love you too, J.”

“You ready to go, Sare?” you ask, standing next to her seat at the kitchen table where she’s working away at her homework, reaching a hand out to play with her curls. She smiles and nods, writing down one last answer to a question on her worksheet before she lays her pencil down and stands up, rushing over toward the door.

“Just gotta get my shoes on!” she calls out, and you smile, shaking your head.

“Take your time, sweet pea! God knows it’s gonna take me longer to walk over to the door.” Your joke falls on deaf ears of your husband, who stands at the kitchen island and rolls his eyes before he’s crossing the room over to you. Within arm’s length, his hands cup the bottom of your large belly, leaning in for a sweet peck.

“Nobody cares if you move slow. Better to be careful than—”

“Careless, yes, I know. I think those might be our baby’s first words since they hear them so much from their dad,” you tease and he shrugs, kissing you again while his touch wanders across the flannel of his that you’re sporting, too tired to buy more maternity clothes that you’ll grow out of and opting for his closet every morning.

“Jus’ looking out for my girls. All three of ‘em.” He beams proudly, brown eyes shining brightly before he turns you in his arms, accompanying you to the front door where your near-teenager is waiting. Ever the sweetheart she is, she’s got your purse slung on her shoulder, car keys in hand to pass off to you. You thank her quietly, turning back to Joel as he looks between the two of you.

“Alright, have fun with your girls’ day. And call if you need anything — either of you. I’ll be waitin’ here for ya.” Joel smooths down Sarah’s hair before kissing the crown of her head; she squirms away, the teenage attitude rearing its head in some early moments, especially with her dad. There’s less patience for him, which you completely understand as a teenage girl once yourself. He huffs out a sigh as she slips out the door, heading down the front path toward your car.

“Hey, s’nothing. Teenage girl things. She loves you, and you’re the best dad.” A hand on his cheek coaxes him down to your lips, a supple kiss exchanged before he pulls away and bends to kiss the top of your belly.

“Bye, my little June Bug.” He stands upright again and steals another kiss, mumbling, “And bye, mi Mariposa. Drive safe, let me know if you need anything while you’re out. I love you.”

“We love you too. And m’speaking for the moody one, too.” Joel chuckles and rubs your bump once more before sending you on your way, watching and waving from the door as y’all drive away.

The plan for today had come about when you started to notice Sarah growing quieter, retreating to her room more often after family dinners and denying the chance at movie night some days. Joel had noticed too, but was a bit nervous to broach it with her, not wanting to make her feel bad about being more independent.

Your relationship with her though was much different to Joel’s. There was the foundation of your caretaking role with her, much more of a friend with authority when it was only you two before you were anything close to a parental figure. More open and, well, you could relate more to what she was going through. She confided in you first about girls at school being catty, about her growing crushes on boys in her grade. And this year, only a month after your due date, she will officially become a teenager. It was a strange time in any girl’s life, full of growing pains.

And on top of all of that, add on a new baby arriving. Attentions drawn elsewhere, priorities shifted to preparing for the baby. Sarah never fell to the backburner in your minds, but you didn’t know how she was feeling. Guessing by her quiet actions, you could tell she was feeling left out but didn’t want to stir up trouble.

Always the sweet girl. And you knew how that was.

So, you’d asked her for a girls’ day, excluding her dad from the fun and giving both of you some time with each other to feel like it was years before. It was all about Sarah today, no mentions of baby — no buying diapers or supplies or clothes. A promise made to yourself to make Sarah feel special, because that is exactly what she was. The baby on the way may be your first biological child, but nothing can compare to the unique bond that you have with your Sare Bear.

The day was spent waddling throughout the mall, helping her pick out new outfits and shoes for the end of the school year. Collecting a haul, you two stopped off for lunch and a trip to the nail salon before you finally made your way back home in the evening. Sarah was smiling brightly in the passenger seat, joking around with you and eagerly telling you all about the latest school drama. Your heart was about to burst with how much she’d come out of her shell again all day, even wanting to show off her new things to her dad when you both got back.

In the living room, Joel greets you two from the couch, eyes widening and a low whistle leaving his lips when he sees the damage done, “Quite some shoppin’ there, Bug. Y’all buy out the whole store?”

You wave him off and encourage Sarah to show off her haul, walking over to settle onto the sofa next to Joel. The younger Miller excitedly starts pulling out pieces and showcasing them, excitedly telling her dad exactly where she plans to wear them. His hand rests on your leg, attention completely focused on his daughter in front of him, squeezing you gently when she gets particularly worked up over something. You can tell he feels what you were in the car, heart bursting that she seems like herself again after a day spent with you.

“That’s nice, Sare Bear. I like the color,” Joel comments on the last shirt Sarah holds up, her smile still beaming as she tosses it back into the bag.

“Thanks, Mom actually picked it out! I thought it would be fun to have for camp this year, since I’m gonna start the counselor training program…” Her voice trails off as Joel listens intently. You, on the other hand, take deep breaths to hold it together, the simple moniker rolling off of Sarah’s tongue so naturally. Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, and baby Miller kicks her feet against your tummy — equally as excited.

You manage to keep it calm while Sarah recaps the rest of the day before she gathers up her shopping bags to take to her room. As she’s leaving the room, she’s quick to run over and give you a hug, leaning down to meet you where you sit on the couch. Your belly sticks out between the two of you, but regardless you pull her into a tight squeeze as she says thank you. Her curls bounce as she scampers off upstairs, the quiet sounds of her feet in the hallway queuing your watery eyes to overflow and for your nose to sniffle. Joel is grinning brightly next to you, pulling you into his lap and holding you against him as he wipes the few happy tears away.

“She called me Mom…” you whisper to your husband, afraid to admit it any louder as if it would disappear.

Joel presses his forehead against yours, a sweet kiss against your lips before he whispers back, “You have no idea how happy it makes me to know she feels that way about you.”

“I just…I feel so lucky. And maybe it’s hormones, but oh my god, I can’t stop blubbering. I’m a mom.”

“You’re the best mom. Have been to Sarah since she met you, and you’re going to be the best mom to our little one on the way.”

June 21st, 2009.

The first day of summer.

It’s the first day of summer and you’re stuck inside. Not at home, no, you’re currently propped up in a hospital bed with your legs in stir-ups, breathing in between contractions. Exhaustion weighs on your body, a full hour passing of you pushing in time with the pain in your abdomen that radiates all over. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead and Joel sitting next to you brushes it out of the way. His other hand is limp in yours, ready to be squeezed with a vice grip whenever you need to push. Joel leans over you in level with your head, lathering on encouragements.

“You got this, Mari.”

“So strong, baby. You can do it.”

“Thank you, mi amor, thank you thank you thank you.”

The last one comes after a string of complaints against him doing this to you — despite you both knowing you begged for it nine months prior — and for having such a big head in his own baby photos that he had to have passed down to the baby.

Another wave kicks in, your doctor and nurses coaching you to give another final push. Putting every last bit of your energy behind the flex of your muscles, groaning out with pain and frustration before a piercing cry fills the room. Heavy, tiny sobs ring in your ears.

“You did it, baby, m’so proud of you. Our little girl,” Joel says in awe, glancing between you and where the doctor holds your little baby girl, summoning Dad over to cut the cord. 

She’s taken away to be cleaned up and Joel returns to your side, ready to help you attentively through the afterbirth. You wave him off, begging him to go keep an eye on your little girl. Once she’s clean enough, the nurses lay her on your bare chest, the sight of her tiny fingers and toes bringing about your own cries. Your hands hold her there, delicate touches brushing against her soft skin and her damp but full head of dark brown hair.

The rest of the process is painful but smoother, shorter. Before you know it, all tests are done and Joel is next to the bed again, wiping a damp cloth across your forehead.

A rush of adrenaline, pure unfiltered need and excitement to meet your daughter keeps you awake, sitting up carefully as you accept her into your arms from your husband who’s wearing the biggest smile. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand on your leg as you study the features on her small face.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she, Mari? Looks like her momma.”

You beam, shaking your head as you place a fingertip against her nose, “See, I think she looks like her daddy. Already got the grumpy brow.”

Both of you laugh, your unbridled attention on the tiny bundle in your arms as you gush over her for minutes longer. Joel rubs your leg, drawing your eyes up to him as he asks, “So you think we picked a good name?”

“I think we picked a perfect name. Our ‘S’ girls,” you grin at him before looking down at your little girl, “Skye Isla Miller. I think it suits her perfectly.”

A bit more time is spent between only the two of you and Skye before you’re itching to see your eldest, and for her to meet her little sister. Joel retreats to where Sarah’s in the waiting area with Tommy and Maria, who’s now three months pregnant herself, waving her to come back with him. She nervously enters the room, quiet as a mouse until you reassure her with a smile and welcome her to sit in the bed next to you.

Joel makes the introductions, voice thick with emotion as he stands over his three girls, watching as his first little one meets his second, “Sarah Elena, this is your baby sister, Skye Isla.”

Sarah quietly asks permission to hold her; you lay Skye in her arms carefully, teaching her how to support her head and where to avoid her soft spot. Sarah picks up on it like a natural, adjusting her little sister when she fusses a bit, finally settling into a new set of familiar hands.

“Dad said you did a really good job, Mom. With everything today. S’pretty cool that you brought a whole person into the world…” Sarah glances over at you with a shy smile before addressing both you and Joel, “M’really happy she’s here.”

“You’re gonna be a great big sister, Bug,” Joel beams with pride as he squeezes her shoulder, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. He hums as he looks over you three, “Got my Mariposa, my Bug, and my little June Bug. Mi maripositas. Don’t think anything could beat seeing my three girls altogether finally.”

You find yourself observing your family from afar, listening with muffled ears as Joel and Sarah chat about who Skye got what features from. Cheeks aching from smiling, you can’t help but think that this summer was off to the most wonderful start, and that every summer after was only going to get better. 

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholic @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @planet-marz1 @kiwisbell @lizzie-cakes

[michealsbiggestfan]

🄶🅁🄴🄶🄾🅁🅈 🄱🄴🄻🄻🄰🅁🄾🅂🄴 ⚔️ 🅇 🅁🄴🄰🄳🄴🅁 🄷🄴🄰🄳🄲🄰🄽🄽🄾🄽🅂

genre: fluff + lemon

gender: female

warnings ⚠️

nsfw + vulgarity

ᡣ𐭩

when gregory first met you, honestly, he wasnt interested.

you were around 9-10, and he had a crush on wendy around that time.

well, that was until she pulled the “fuck him in the ear!” card, which left him speechless.

he had always thought of wendy as a sweet, innocent girl. he was incredibly wrong in that assumption, and regretted ever being there for her during the war once she said that.

which… kinda raised his annoyance with stan. but he wasnt about to ditch christophe just because he didn’t like this town.

so he stayed, and a couple of years went by without either of you ever knowing of eachothers existence. that was until the day that your science teacher paired you both up for a project, considering you and him were on the highest level in the class.

he was still better than you, though 😛

you both decided to meet at your house, and when gregory turned up and met your parents OH they loved him.

at first he kinda annoyed you since he charmed your parents and had a pretty big ego that weighed the same as an elephant on the back of another elephant, but by the time you finished the project, you started to like him as a friend.

you slowly but surely became friends and he would walk you to your locker and classes everyday, checking in on you, greeting you politely, and letting you sit with him and christophe.

he even shielded you from the smoke coming from delorne’s cigs, preventing you from getting second-hand smoke 🙂👍

after a few months, it started getting more romantic.

hand kisses, forehead kisses, buying you your lunch, visiting you and your parents daily, calling you things like “dear” and “love”, holding your hand and even holding you by your hips.

“No, we’re just friends.”

“Mhm, just friends.”

and then you both politely smile at the group of confused girls from your classes.

one day, your parents weren’t home so you invited him over for a movie night, which went both good and unexpected.

since there was a TV in your bedroom, you were on your bed. about 20 minutes into the romance movie when he suddenly started to rub your thigh gently.

“.. Greg, what are you doing?”

your hand would slowly go over his in an attempt to shift it away, but he instead moved his hand off of your thigh to hold yours.

“Showing my platonic love.”

“Platonic love? Love and platonic are opposites.”

“Are they?”

he clearly wasnt paying much attention considering the fact he just let go of your hand to use his curled pointy finger to stroke some hair away from your cheek.

“.. Greg..”

“Mm.”

he would slowly move closer to you and glance down at your lips before back at your eyes, using his thumb and previous finger to lift your chin up.

“May I platonically kiss you?”

nsfw warning ⚠️

one kiss became a makeout session and a makeout session eventually became a “let’s take our clothes off” session.

you were still trying to convince yourself you were just “making platonic love” but clearly you both loved eachother.

the look on his face as he straddled you and thrusted with such soft groans escaping his throat proved his love for you.

and the way you gazed up at him as he pleasured you so well also proved your love for him.

your moans and his groans kept being cut off by you both kissing, the main sound in the room just being the sound of skin slapping against skin.

his usually-slicked-back hair was messy and down now, stray strands hanging down, and you were just a moaning mess.

the feeling of his big cock moving in and out of you was just intoxicating to your sensitive little pussy, but honestly, after this, you would spread your legs and let him rail you anytime he wants.

he felt guilty, considering he was a catholic, and catholics shouldn’t have sex before marriage, but this was too tempting and too sweet of a feeling for him to deny.

“.. o-oh my.. oh.. l-lords please f-forgive me.. a-aaah.. o-oh dear..”

his whimpers honestly just made it 10x more pleasurable for you.

but overall, he’s a sweetheart to you. always take you on dates, which he pays for, and will never let anything harm you.

he even squished a bee in between his pointy finger and thumb because you got scared.

isn’t he lovely? ☺️

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I've always wished I could date Gus. I feel like he's an under-appreciated character. Do you have any headcanons or ideas for a Gus & farmer love story?

I definitely remember a lot of people saying they wanted Gus as a marriage candidate, but I've seen quite a few headcanons with him. So... why not? 😃 Enjoy, dear anon 🫰

_________________________________________

The very first meeting between Farmer and Gus took place in Pierre's shop. But they just exchanged polite greetings and went about their business again: Gus was choosing the freshest vegetables for the evening stew as the dish of the day, and Farmer was spending their last gold on parsnip and cauliflower seeds.

But the first real conversation took place a fortnight later, when Gus happened to catch Farmer digging through a trash bin looking for food or something else. As with Linus, Gus didn't chase the Farmer away, and even gave them leftover glazed yams and still-warm pastries so they wouldn't be hungry that evening. The Farmer was burning with embarrassment that they had been caught, but gratefully accepted the food, forever remembering the kindness of the Saloon owner.

Gus would also start mailing them from time to time and checking to see if they were hungry. Even if a little bit hits his wallet, he doesn't want anyone in the Valley to go hungry.

Time passed, the Farmer was getting used to the new community, slowly but surely making friends with the locals. Especially Gus.

Farmer never refused to help him. That moment when the saloon owner found himself in a delicate situation with Pam and her debts, when he didn't have the right products to cook in his establishment, the funny situation with Willy and his "crab experiment", the quest to collect eggs for Gus's great omelette - Farmer was always there, lending a helping hand. Just as in the very beginning of spring, Gus helped the Farmer.

One of the turning points was when Gus arrived at Farmer's house, where he gave them his Jukebox machine as a gift and called them his best friend. At this point, Farmer wanted to say that they felt more than friendship, but, afraid of the possible negative reaction, decided to keep quiet.

Farmer became a guest of the Saloon and the main provider of the best quality crops. They sat very close to the Gus, sipping their drinks and enjoying the next stories and fresh gossip from Saloon owner.

Emily was the first to notice that the Farmer was looking at Gus with heart eyes, so the resourceful gem lover began to hint to her boss about it. Not very effective, to be honest. So she changed tactics and started helping Farmer build up their courage. Encouraged by her friend's words, Farmer strode confidently out of the Saloon, taking Gus by surprise. But no sooner had he gotten worried and realized what had happened than Farmer returned with a bouquet of flowers and a a bouquet made from various of Gus's favorite snacks.

Handing him two bouquets at once, Farmer decided it was either now or never, and gave him a whole speech about their romantic feelings for him. Gus was silent, and the Farmer had already decided that they had made a mistake. But in the end the owner of the Saloon only uttered: "I accept!"

It turned out that he had felling for Farmer too, but thought that he couldn't compete with the other young bachelors and bachelorettes in Pelican Town. Farmer no longer listened to what he said next, but only bestowed kisses on him to the congratulations of Emily and the other visitors to the Saloon. Pam whistled the loudest.

[biteofcherry]

Happy Wetnessday

My brain is tired today so I'm gonna give you some facts to your relationship with King Curtis and you tell me how you guys met. This may be slightly inspired by your Curtis blurb from a few days ago

- he's a just ruler but can be brutal if needed but never with you. With you he's the softest (except in bed )

- you merntion something once and he does everything in his might to get it for you, including getting a delivery of your favourite fruits from your previous kingdom

- he frequently goes on rides with you, he even got you your very own white horse to contrast his black stallion

- he takes you everywhere he needs to go nd if he can't take you he writes lettersdaily and brings you a souvenir

So how did you meet?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Hiiiii Wetnessday Anon! 💕💐

I'm sure Curtis would take care of your exhaustion and find ways to switch off your brain completely and have your muscles relax into goo 😉

Now you would think that it's through arranged marriage that I ended up being with King Curtis, but it's more of an arranged misadventure. And by arranged I mean that I was attempting to organize a sneaky escape from my kingdom. And by misadventure I mean that I wasn't planning on ending up on Curtis' ship.

Curtis came to my kingdom along with four other rulers of foreign kingdoms. It was to talk potential alliances and treaties, since my older brother - a regent awaiting for the crown while our father was slowly fading away due to illness - decided he wanted to show how big his balls are. He didn't make a good impression.

But at least he didn't start any new wars, so that's definitely a success.

Since he has been getting on my nerves with his pushing and pressing to marry me to his friend (I'm a goddamn Princess and he didn't even arrange for me to marry another king, or prince; but decided to sate his disgusting friend's lewd desires to possess me), I decided to fuck it all.

My plan was to sneak off to the golden shores of King Ari's kingdom. I had naive dreams of living a simple life on the beach, even marrying a fisherman. Just being happy and in peace.

Fowever, the security in the docks was exceptionally good, especially around each ship, which forced me to do a lot of hasty moves and wrong turns. I thought I was getting on the right ship, but in the morning, when we were on the open sea, I noticed from my hiding spot below the deck that the sails aren't pure white painted with gold.

They were crispy white, yes. But they bore the black emblem of an axe. That moment I realized I was on the way to the snowy lands, ruled by the rough, unyielding King Curtis.

Few breaths later I was discovered and dragged in front of the King himself.

Curtis wasn't happy at first, annoyed at the prospect of conflict my irresponsible escape may cause. But he took me to his cabin and demanded a thorough explanation. After a long consideration, he offered me two choices.

One was that I would be given a boat and one of his sailors would row me back to my kingdom. The other was to go with him and marry him, since he saw potential gain in that for his own kingdom.

Curtis was blunt about the political lining of it, but he was also honest in his promise to allow me freedom within the borders of the castle, opportunities to explore and grow and have my own passions. He even joked (amused by my romantic musings of learning to fish and mend fishing nets) that he'd allow me to learn any craft I wanted.

Agreeing to Curtis' proposal was dictated by me really not wanting to go back home, but he quickly proved that there was love and joy in the icy cold northern kingdom. And that it wasn't covered in snow all the time, like foreigners believed.

The wedding night also proved that my body would never desire any other man.

[shi-daisy]

hi hi it me for the CHARACTER BREAKDOWN game thing!! obvs I gotta ask u about Tamlin!!!!

Hiiiii sweetie! Okay so we're going with my best boy!

How I feel about him?

He's precious, I loved how silly and awkward he was on book 1. I think he's really handsome despite my type being brunettes rather than blondes, he is strong in a fight but I love his quiet scenes and how much he cares for his court even if this is a duty he never wanted. Tamlin owns my heart and was a comfort for me during a dark time in my past. I love him very very much!

All the people I romantically ship this character with

Man has darn harem.

First in line obviously Lucien because these two as friends to lovers would heal me and they're absolutely adorable (sjm don't ruin them) Feyre before book 3. I loved their relationship and held out hope he'd win her back, alas after book 3 even if they go back to being friends I can't see them getting back together. Still love book 1 Feylin and Feylincien tho

Briar, I'm a basic bitch and while he haven't seen Briar again and she's human, I think she's sweet and would love to see them get together as long as it does not end in tragedy or bittersweetly.

Cresseida, Also kinda crack but I could see them starting as a political marriage and the slowly fall for one another and bond over Night screwing them over. They'd be cute

Hybern. I cannot get the appeal of Tamsand because this ship is a 1000 times more compelling to me. A decent into evil by Tamlin when everyone leaves him behind as he's hurt? Bloody revenge? Spring not being destroyed but turned dark and used to destroy Tamlins enemies? Homoerotic tension? That scene where Hybern binded Tamlin with magic? Cmooooooon, I need evil Tamlin or redeemed Hybern fics with them for sustenance they're so interesting to me.

Non romantic OTP for this character

Jurian, they'd be a cool ship but given Jurian's sass and him helping Tamlin as a double agent and being buddies with Lucien too. I'd love to see them hanging out more.

Andras, these two were beasties and I headcanon Andras went out saq Feyre and meticulously planned for her to break the curse because he knew Tamlin would like her.

Unpopular Opinion

He does not need to apologize to the IC. He helped them in the war and brought Rhysand back despite all he'd done to him. Man should be left alone and book 3 actually did before SJM chose to kick him while he's down. If he apologizes let it be to Lucien and Feyre if she loses the bad attitude. Otherwise I want him to heal away from Night.

Something I wish would happen

That he gets an uncontested adorable happy ending because he deserves the world.

[letmereadinpeace4]

I just finished "The Age of Innocence" by Edith Wharton. It belongs to the (large) category of books that have been in my bookshelf for years because I never got around to read them out of some misgiving about their entertainment value. Like many of the books belonging to this category, it turns out it is a masterpiece! I enjoyed it much more that I thought I would.

I really enjoyed the depiction of this period and of the social politics that dominated and ruled the New York of that time. It creates such a brutal, cold and superficial world that everyone both submits to and maintain. However, the highlight for me were the three central characters:

Newland Archer is a character that I didn't like as a person, but that I found utterly fascinating as a character. He sees the failings and the superficially of the world he is part of and wants to rebel, but at the same time he does not have the resolution and strength to actually do any meaningful rebellion. While his love for Ellen was somewhat touching, I am really convinced that he saw her more as an ideal of the romance and escapism he wishes he had than as an actual person. The conclusion of his character was tragic, but perfectly in line with how he has been depicted so far. What really caught my attention however was his arrogance, especially when directed towards people he sees as inferior. From the very first time he is introduced he speaks of "freeing" his future wife, May, from the ideals she has been taught. He never considers whether she might actually been interested in arts or literature, or interests himself in what she actually likes. He just assumes she is a product of the society that raised her and even when she proves she is much more than an innocent ingenue, he never quite makes the effort to see her as a real person.

Ellen Olenska was a brilliant character. Running from an abusive marriage, she hopes to find a stable life in New York society, and slowly realizes the cruelty and rigidity of that world. Her story was tragic, and the way she is completely misunderstood and criticized by society and her own family really shows the cruelty women of that time faced when they tried to rebel against convention. However, what Archer Newland couldn't accomplish (even though he had more ressources than her), she actually accomplishes, and finds some semblance of freedom in Paris. I really hope that once she left New York, she had a great and fulfilling life and (hopefully) some romantic affairs with men (or women) that had more character and resolution than Archer.

And finally, my dearest and my favorite character of the novel, May Welland! I didn't expect to like her character as much as I did. She really shows how women of that time, however conventional or "boring" they might seem, managed to get what they wanted through manipulation and the usage of social politics. May gave one chance to Archer Newland to get what he really wanted, and when he blew it, she was like "Well I gave you one shot and you didn't take it, now you are going to face your responsibilities!". She had such a pragmatic attitude towards her husband and his affair, and I can admire that. I really wish she had the chance to find who she truly was beyond the conventions and values she had been taught, but I am glad that she managed to get some form of happiness or at least contentment in her life.

[mrfeenysmustache]

When Mother Nature Speaks

@crescent-dreams Gift Exchange Day!!! My gift is a ficlet and matching art for @rainandyarn!!

Summary: They are breaking convention and all of polite society is talking.

Also read on: AO3

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was raining at her wedding.

She watched the rivulets trail down the window, ignored the whispers- she was good at ignoring whispers- and simply tried to spot a break in the clouds.

Maybe it would stop long enough to say her vows and stop the whispers.

When she’d turned down a proposal from the Hojo family, one that had been whispered about for years, she’d caused a shockwave of gossip and speculation to ripple through society.

Everyone had been so certain, even her family, that their houses would be joined once and for all, the two most influential human houses in all the realms.

The power and prestige would be unmatchable, and they’d been planning this match from the minute Kagome was born, just two years after the youngest Hojo heir.

She played along as she had believed he was a perfectly acceptable match, and she was happy and content to be Hojo’s wife.

And then she’d met Sesshomaru.

Thunder cracked loud and sharp, tapering off into a shaky rumble as lightning flashed bright across the sky.

The whispers behind her increased, and her nerves began to fray.

Perhaps they’d been right all along?

Perhaps she was making a foolish decision, one cursed by fate and the gods themselves?

But how could love so deep and pure be cursed in any way?

She’d met yokai before for sure.

Romantic intermingling was mostly taboo, though now and again those in lower social spheres would do so.

It was nearly unheard of in her circles, though, not that she understood why.

They would all dance and drink and dine together, flashing their wealth and sharing gossip, but marriage deals and arrangements rarely crossed those lines.

Sesshomaru had been traveling for a long time, certainly before she’d reached the appropriate age to enter society, and it was his return from his distant learning and training that changed her life.

He’d walked into the ball with his father and suddenly everything in her life that had once seemed important withered and rotted away.

Her heart had twisted so hard she’d almost fainted, but she’d held it together and slowly drifted off to the refreshment tables for a sip of water.

She waved off concern of her friends with reassuring smiles, pretended to listen to conversation with well placed giggles, and tried to hide the way her entire body wanted to fly apart when the object of her distractions gently touched the inside of her elbow.

“Will you dance with me?” He asked, his cool, even tone washing over her with unexpected warmth, and nodded, breathless and unable to speak.

He’d spun her around the floor, under the golden candlelight and into his heart, and she knew then that the trappings of her previous life and the one she’d been prepared for would no longer suffice.

As was usual, their courting time was short, and the proposal was as scandalous as it was unexpected.

But she didn’t mind the whispers.

Until today.

“An omen. We knew this was a cursed union, and Mother Nature confirms it!” She heard from human and demon alike from the moment of the announcement, and those whispers increased ten fold as she watched the rain wash away her carefully set up ceremony.

She wasn’t usually superstitious but… what if….

A familiar grasp on her elbow drew her attention from the window, and she gazed up into beloved golden eyes.

“We will not melt.” Sesshomaru said in that quiet but firm way he had, and she grinned as he pulled her out into the rain.

They ran together to the flower strung tree, and the priest followed, bewildered and bedraggled.

“Make it quick!” Sesshomaru shouted above the thunder, and he skipped the fluff and went straight to the vows.

The rain washed away her tears of happiness at hearing Sesshomaru pledge to be hers, and she choked out her vow to be his just in time for him to sweep her up and kiss her hard and deep on the mouth in front of their guests, still sheltered safely inside but watching from the windows and doors.

There were gasps, twitterings, even cheers, but they melted into the mud with her newly sprouted doubts as her heart reaffirmed everything she’d ever known.

As he stole her every breath with a toe curling kiss hot enough to incinerate everyone’s proper graces, the clouds broke apart and the rain lightened to a sweet, spring shower, a sunbeam spilling over their faces.

Mother Nature had indeed come, and she’d come to confirm what she truly already knew…

She was meant to be right where she was.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Asexual Fic Recs

These fics feature characters who either canonically or non-canonically identify as asexual. If I include a fic on this list that features a character that you personally don't think is ace - thats ok! everyone has their own headcannons for characters, Just be polite!

Merlin (TV)

keep me as i keep you by fabledfrog - Rated G

Merlin smiles, a smile that makes Arthur feel like he’s the one who brings out the sun every morning. It’s a smile that says ‘I am proud of you’ and ‘I know you will’ and spells out devotion and care.

Heart Lines by PeaceHeather - Rated G

Everyone is born with a heart line, a pigmented mark running from the heart down the left arm to the palm, which turns color when the person comes of age, telling them when it is time to seek their soulmate. Red indicates a romantic love, while blue is for platonic "heart-friends", as the minstrels called it. Uther had always told Arthur to ignore his heart line, that it wouldn't matter who his soulmate was; princes did not marry for love, after all. If was lucky, he'd be able to keep her as a mistress, so long as he did not get any children with her. Uther hated magic and would have urged Arthur to ignore the heart line anyway, if he could. Arthur wasn't sure his soulmate was really a woman despite Uther's assumptions. But Arthur's heart line hadn't even come into its full color yet, which meant he hadn't come of age in the eyes of the gods, despite being named crown prince by Uther. So it really didn't matter: whoever his soulmate was, he wasn't yet ready to meet them. Then one day his heart line comes in, and it's neither red nor blue.

Leverage (TV)

Not Quite the Birds and the Bees by YumeArashi - Rated T

One morning over breakfast, Parker asked Hardison, "So am I supposed to offer to have sex with you?" [Relationships get interesting where Parker's involved. Luckily, Hardison is a very understanding guy.]

Better than Normal by YumeArashi - Rated M

Parker's take on life, love, and sex (or lack thereof) with Hardison and Eliot.

Star Wars

The Slow Progression of Wanting by celeste9 - Rated T

Everyone in the Resistance seems to assume that Finn wants either Rey or Poe, with the only question being which one. Though Finn slowly comes to realize that he does want them, he doesn't want them in the way that people seem to think he should. He thinks there must be something wrong with him. (asexual!Finn)

The Princess and the Nerfherder by Fialleril - Rated G

“Are we dating?” Breha said to him one afternoon in the Academy’s library. Or, the life and times of Breha and Bail Organa.

Abstinence Only by mandocule - Rated G

Boba Fett was fine with the world thinking he didn't approve of sex before marriage. It was true, anyway, if only in the sense that he didn't want sex at all, before or after marriage. He just hoped Djarin would get the picture and stop trying to get with him before he had to lay it out - or, worse, before he caught feelings.

it's getting hard to be someone, but it all works out by redsquadronblues (aceofcorvids) - Rated T

Wedge and Luke keep coming back to each other for ten long years, and it's the opposite of a problem. Or, five times Wedge wakes up next to Luke Skywalker, and one time he doesn't.

Lord of The Rings

Three is Company by starryeyedknight - Rated T

“And what about you, Samwise? You’re going to tell me you’ve never looked as Mr Frodo with an eye for a quick fondle if he offered it – a handsome fellow such as him?”

Frodo straightened up, dusting off his jacket and shirt. “Yes, go on Samwise; I want to hear the answer to this.”

“No, I ain’t,” Sam said with laboured patience. “Mr Frodo isn’t interested in that sort of thing, and so I don’t consider it. It just seems…well, too much like taking liberties, if you take my meaning.”

“Do you know, I find that rather insulting? Just because I’m not looking for a good tupping doesn’t mean you couldn’t pine after me a little, Sam Gamgee, even as a matter of courtesy. What’s a hobbit got to do to be objectified around here?”

Sometimes relationships need a little communication to define. In which Rosie is bolder than the boys expect, Frodo is overcome with emotion (and a severe case of the giggles), Sam still doesn't understand what a catch he is - and all three hobbits love each other very dearly indeed.

9-1-1 (TV)

To Become a Family by RaspberryDreams1 - Rated M

Eddie's on leave before being deployed after the death of his 17 year old brother Leonardo, when his old school friend Shannon comes to him asking for help. Shannon is pregnant and Eddie's the only member of the family who knows that Leon had been casually involved with Shannon. Shannon doesn't want an abortion but cannot face the idea of bringing up a baby on her own. Believing that this may be his only chance at fatherhood, Eddie agrees to claim paternity and marry Shannon to provide the child with financial security and a father.

Baldur's Gate (Video Game)

joke me something awful, just like kisses on the necks of best friends by LyriumTainted - Rated G

“…If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just said so.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m doing this for your benefit.”

Supernatural

Warmth by TheIttyBitty - Rated G

Asexual!Cas & Protective!Dean

What Matters by bumblewyn - Rated T

Cas thinks he owes it to Dean to have sex with him, Dean shows Cas what truly matters.

Get it Wrong, Get it Right by feraldanvers - Rated T

Dean’s been mixed up over his feelings for a long time, but it never occurs to him that Cas might be mixed up, too.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Do you have a scene you really liked but weren't able to fit it in a fic? Would you care to share? Do you have a most recent favorite line or scene? What is it?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

Hello, AM. Thank you for the ask. 🥰 The answer is...YES! This actually happens all the time. 😂 Actually, right now, I'm trying to decide between 3 different beginnings for The Raven Prince because I can't decide how I want Bilbo and Thorin to meet.

However, one that I have to share is from Ambassador to Madness. This is originally how I was going to have Thorin ask Bilbo to court him:

The sharp crack of stone had Bilbo jumping in his seat, and he quickly scrambled to grab a book to hide the fact that he’s been staring blankly at the opposite wall for the last half an hour. “H-How was the council meeting?” Bilbo smiled politely as Thorin stomped into the room. “Long.” The prince complained. “How...is your book?” Bilbo fixed his fake smile in response to Thorin’s odd look. “Oh, yes. It’s fine. It’s all...fine.” “It’s upside down.” Thorin pointed out. Bilbo looked down only to wince at his mistake. He risked a glance only to see Thorin raising an eyebrow at him. His husband must think he’s an idiot. “Yes, well...it’s not important.” He coughed out. Thorin nodded slowly as he turned to move into his bedchambers. Bilbo slumped back in his chair resisting the urge to bury his head in his hands. “Master Baggins, if I may?” Thorin suddenly spun back around. Bilbo found himself scrambling to his feet for no discernable reason only to give a wry grin. “We are married now, Your Highness. I believe it is appropriate to merely call me ‘Bilbo’.” “Then you must call me ‘Thorin’.” The dwarf returned. “Of course.” Bilbo nodded his head as he folded his hands behind his back. Silence settled over them for a moment past comfortable. “Yes, Bilbo, I wanted to ask…” Thorin started. “Yes?” The hobbit pressed. “It’s just...I know that this...us...o-our marriage is a ruse, and you’re certainly under no obligation to say yes. I just figured...I want to do right by you, and I thought maybe you would allow me to court you?” “Court me?” Bilbo repeated stupidly. Thorin nodded. “But...we’re...married.” Bilbo spoke slowly hoping to convey his lack of understanding in this conversation. “Yes.” Thorin coughed clearly embarrassed. “I know.” The silence stretched out again. “Is this a...cultural thing? Do dwarves court after marriage?” Bilbo finally blurted. “No, we court before. I just...in my head before my grandfather happened, I thought I would have time to do this...properly. Dwarves only do this once, and I just feel as though we were...cheated.” Bilbo smiled in spite of himself. He found Thorin’s speech to be terribly endearing. “Thorin, you’re under no obligation to me. We’re not actually married.” He reminded. “I know.” Thorin nodded. “But you’ve given up a lot for this little scheme of ours. And when asked about our courting, I want people to know the prince did things correctly even if out of order.” Of course, this was about Thorin’s public image. The smile slipped from Bilbo’s face as he nodded his ascent. “Then by all means, if it’ll clear your conscious of imaginary slights.” Thorin’s brows furrowed as if trying to ascertain if he had been insulted or not. “Balin will assign you a teacher for courting procedures tomorrow. So you aren’t caught by surprise.”  “Of course. I look forward to it.” Bilbo nodded in return. He waited until Thorin left completely before collapsing in his chair again. What an utter waste of time. Not for the first time, he felt bad for Thorin. He realized from their wedding night that Thorin was clearly a romantic and yet he had been forced into a loveless marriage without a chance to properly court all because his grandfather lost his mind to gold. 

As for a favorite line or scene...I think I'm going to have to go to one of my 99 Problems one-shots I'm going to reveal later this month:

“What are you doing here?” He demanded quietly. “I had to see you.” Thorin murmured. “I can’t stand us having been apart for so long.” “So you just left Erebor in the middle of the night?!” Bilbo cried incredulously. “It was technically late afternoon when I left.” “Thorin.” Bilbo pressed. “Who knows you’re here?” Thorin blinked, and Bilbo braced himself for either a lie or a truth he didn’t want to here.  “You…” He stated slowly. “And I did write a letter to Balin.” Bilbo groaned as he let his head fall forward, hitting Thorin’s thick chest. The dwarf wasted no time in pulling him close so he could kiss the top of his head.  “What’s it matter? I’m here now, and you and I have unfinished business, Master Baggins.” Bilbo couldn’t help smirking at the sultry tone in his voice. “Do we?” He played coy while running his hand up into Thorin’s beard. Thorin leaned into the touch with contentment as he bent down to give Bilbo a proper kiss.  “I promise I’m not the least bit tired this time.”  Bilbo giggled before kissing Thorin again. He was just about to suggest they make their way to the bed when there was a bang outside his door. Bilbo jumped in surprise and Thorin tightened his grip on him, pulling him slightly behind his back. Another bang, and the doors came flying open as several elven guards rushed into his room. “What are you doing? What’s the meaning of this?” He demanded as they latched onto Thorin pulling him away from Bilbo. “Master Baggins, are you okay?” The head of the guards asked. “I would be perfectly fine if someone told me what was going on!” He snapped. “We saw a shady figure break into your room through the balcony.” He answered as if it were obvious. “And you are just coming to his aid now?!” Thorin asked incredulously, fighting off the elven hands holding him back with all that he could. “I could have been an assassin and it would be too late to do anything!”

[stargazing-sapphire2]

Sapphire, tengo preguntas para Lars y Katariina (I have questions for Lars and Katariina):

How’s their relationship like? Are they private about their marriage or are they not?

Do they have the same personality or are they the opposite of each other? If opposite, can you tell me how’re they different?

Do they have the same political or religious beliefs? If not, does that cause an issue in their marriage at times?

How do they handle their children? Discipline or gentle parenting?

What do they like to do together (with or without children)?

What made them think they were meant for each other?

If they got into an argument, what would be the reason for it? And how would they solve it?

What do they both like and dislike about each other and themselves?

What was their reaction like when they found out they were going to be parents?

What does Katariina think about the crew members Lars works with (Adler’s crew + Oscar)? + Same thing goes for Lars too!

Hi, Vice! And a question about my favorite couple of all times haha

1). They have a tight, secure marriage, with plenty of ups and downs throughout the years. And they're quite open about it. The relationship is not something to be ashamed of, so no need to hide it.

2). They're quite similar in personality; hardheaded, stubborn and firm in their beliefs; although Lars can be a little less open with his thoughts and feelings. But with time and settling down, he definitely got better with it.

3). Neither are particular about religion, so it doesn't effect the relationship. Although they did agree to let the twins do whatever they want when they were older and give them that choice.

4). Both grew up in a time period where physically disciplining children was commonplace, but after becoming parents, they're both of the opinion that spanking/hitting kids to punish them wouldn't do well for their development in the long run. So when the twins are being punished, they both explain why they're being punished and have various means of discipline: time out in the corner for an hour, taking away stuff like toys and only giving it back when they learned their lesson. And in Lars' case, he'd either make the two do a shitton of yard work and exercises such as running laps around the house or multiple push ups.

5). Lars is an old school romance kind of guy; flowers, love letters, romantic walks or movies with Kat. When they have the twins, they either do family movie night, game night, or just take the kids out for a nice day. This got less frequent when Aleksi and Sveta both became adults and had their own lives to deal with, so nothing really changed on Lars' and Kat's end.

6). The relationship was just something that happened naturally over the years. At the time they met, it was a smack in the middle of the Vietnam War, and Lars was occupied with staying alive while Kat was occupied with keeping the soldiers alive. They started off on the wrong foot at first, but as they got to know each other, the dislike slowly turned into fondness.

7). Every couple has arguments and disagreements. In the first few years of their marriage, they often fought about how Lars was usually away for most months of the year when he was still in the Marines, and this left Kat feeling alone and neglected. It almost ended the relationship a few times, but they always talked through it, and Lars would always write to her or call when he could. It was only after the twins were born did he start being more active and present, and he would eventually retire in the 90s. But they still have the occasional disagreement, such as over bills, what to do for dinner, etc.

8). Lars dislikes that he feels Kat need to loosen up and accept that she can't save everyone. They both watched a lot of people die in Vietnam, although for Kat she feels she could have saved these men had she been faster or better. On Kat's end, there are times she's frustrated that Lars is reluctant to open up and bring down the emotional walls he's built up. Communication is a huge factor in keeping relationships alive, and this a habit Lars had to let go if he wanted to keep her. He eventually would get better with time, although there are still those moments where he doesn't want to talk about specific stuff.

9). Definitely a lot of fear. At the time Kat was pregnant, the threat of Perseus was still around, although it did give Lars a reason to fight and come back home alive to the family he built, and he's been an amazing father since then.

10). Aside from Mason and Woods, Kat isn't particularly close to anyone else on Adler's group, and feels mostly neutral about them, although her opinion on Adler mirrors that of Lars'; she finds him a hypocritical, pompous jackass and she doesn't trust him, plain and simple. As for Oscar, I feel like she'd be wary of him especially given his hostility towards Lars on their first meeting, and she's got no problem calling him out when he's acting petulant. "You're a grown man, act like it and talk it out. This is the kind of behavior I'd expect from high schoolers".

As for Lars, it's explained in this post

[whitelilynh]

NejiHina week 2022 Day two: I loved you first.

I loved you first

Prompts used: I loved you first.

Hiashi Hyuga was silent. The council awaited in expectation for his answer, tension in the atmosphere.

-Hiashi-sama? –Neji’s voice sounded nervous at this point.

Silence. Hiashi closed his eyes slowly as the frown on his forehead increased. He couldn’t understand himself. This was expected, of course. He was more than happy when Hinata and Neji announced in the front of this same council their intentions to start dating.

But this… this was something. This was more. This meant delivering his daughter to that man in front of him.

Yes, that man was Neji. Yes, he was the most appropriate candidate, his brother’s son. And yes, he knew Neji would love and take care of Hinata as no one else, he would even give his life for her as he had already proved. Yet still…

Well, It couldn’t be helped. He sighed.

-Is Hinata aware of your intentions, Neji? –He said in a tart tone, shifting his position on his seat trying to sound relaxed. As if.

-Of course not, Hiashi-sama. –Neji straightened his back trying to sound less intimidated –I could not propose to her without your permission.

-Well, if is for the council, you had ours ever since you started dating Neji-kun –An old lady said, friendly. As friendly as the Hyuga elders could be, at least.

-Thank you, Hitori-sama. But other than the council’s I’d like Hiashi-sama’s not as a leader, but as Hinata’s father –Politely, Neji replied.

Yes, that was it. Hinata was his daughter.

-When you plan to propose? –Hiashi said, still wary.

-I… I hadn’t think about it. It would not be soon, but not too late. I needed your permission to…

-Neji Hyuga! –Hiashi shouted, startling everyone in the room -Don’t tell me you decided to marry my daughter impulsively!

-No, of course not! I’ve always known Hinata is the only one I would ever marry! –Neji blushed as soon as he realized what he had confessed. Some ladies on the council giggled and awed at his romanticism –Is just that I… I don’t know when or how, that’s it.

Hiashi clenched his fists and his teeth.

-Very well then, you have my permission –He finally agreed.

***

The thought kept playing on his head, time and time again.

As soon as Neji had the courage to propose, Hinata would be less and less his. They would eventually marry, and so she would stop being the eldest daughter of Hiashi Hyuga, the clan’s head, and instead she would become Neji’s wife.

He was happy that things had unfolded this way, as he always wanted. Ever since Hinata and Neji were kids he had wanted to engage them. It was different back then, of course, because the day the actual wedding would take place was far away, yet now it seemed to be approaching incredibly fast. He sighed.

Hizashi had refused the engagement back in the day. He said that though it would be a magnificent opportunity for Neji to be part of the main family, he couldn’t take from his son the only freedom he would ever have: to choose a wife for himself.

Of course, Hizashi was a romantic. He could allow himself that, having married for love and having chosen his wife. It was not that Hiashi hadn’t loved his wife, they were fortunate enough to fall in love as soon as they married. But his marriage had been one for political reasons, engaged to her since they were kids, for it was custom that once in a while the heir would marry an unmarked member of the side branch appointed since birth, so the next heir’s byakugan were not as weakened.

That was his luck. He hadn’t had such freedom and it wasn’t as bad. But as much as he kept thinking Neji was the perfect choice of a husband for Hinata, since he was his nephew in the end, and after watching by himself the prodigy he was already famous to be at the tender age of 4, Hizahi didn’t accept. Yet, he was certain that it was a convenient match. His wife, and even Neji’s mother would agree with him, but there was no force that could convince his brother otherwise.

So, if things turned out as good as for Neji and Hinata to have fallen in love by themselves, why was he so bitter towards the marriage?

He saw Hinata from afar, finishing her training with Hanabi. His daughters had grown so fast, they were adults now. Suddenly he felt nostalgic, had he ever spent time with them?

He couldn’t even remember much of their childhood other than trainings.

As for Hanabi, he never took a real interest in her until Hinata was temporarily dismissed as the heiress and he started training his younger daughter instead. He lamented that poor treatment of her, so he tried to spend some time with Hanabi, taking her to see the chunin exams and doing other activities that, though they were part of the shinobi life, could be considered as spending quality time father and daughter, right?

But for Hinata, things had been different.

Ever since Hinata proved not having the character and decision to be the clan’s leader (or at least that was what they thought back then) he refused to see her. He had been cruel to her in his futile effort to suppress his feelings. His feelings of disappointment but also of loss.

He remembered the day Hinata was born.

He held the little baby, so pale and delicate, tiny as could be, on his arms.

-Hinata –He said –Her name will be Hinata.

-Hinata? –His wife asked, curious –May I ask why, Hiashi?

-She’s my sunshine. –He said hastily and low, blushing. Of course he couldn’t be caught expressing his emotions, he was a Hyuga, and the Clan’s lead on top of that! Only to his wife he would soften sometimes.

But as he said so, he could almost swear little Hinata smiled on his arms. Her big baby eyes, characteristic lavender color, seemed to be fixated on his.

As Hinata grew, she would prove to be, indeed, a little sunshine. She was the most smiley baby, cute to the bone.

She was too shy, of course, but wasn’t that normal? She was so little still, and she was the princess of the clan, so they maybe overprotected her a bit. Just a bit.

But baby Hinata was as beautiful as her mother, he would think with pride.

He had heard about his nephew’s talent, incredible for his age. At tender age 4 Neji had already awaken his byakugan. As tradition dictated, Hizashi started training his son the evening of his third birthday and continued every day since then. The result was impressive, just a few months after they started training Neji had learnt all the basic moves. A couple more months and his byakugan awoke. It was the usual for a Hyuga heir to awaken theirs around five or six years old, even more for the side branch, yet Neji did before his fourth birthday.

What a blessing for the clan was that boy!

He was certain his little Hinata wouldn’t fall short either. So for her third birthday he decided to invite his brother and his nephew to help train Hinata.

-Neji-kun is impressive! –Hiashi said with a smile –When we were kids you…

-Neji will live to protect Hinata-Sama –Hizashi interrupted him –As I have lived to protect you, Hiashi-sama.

-Brother… -He couldn’t understand the formality Hizashi used towards him ever since he was made the clan’s head. They used to be close as little kids, he even taught Hizashi the main family’s techniques himself! In secret, of course. But as they grew, they became colder and colder, no matter how much he tried.

After Neji’s birth, he had barely ever seen his brother. Needless to say, he met his nephew that same day, as he had never seen him before. It was such a loss that Neji had to be put into the side branch...

Hiashi looked with pride on his eyes at his heiress fighting Neji. She was defeated, of course, but it wasn’t a big deal considering this was her first practice ever…

And so Hiashi found always a way to dismiss Hinata’s fails at training. He loved that baby so much!

When she was almost kidnapped he lost his head. Rage filled him when he saw the shinobi trying to escape taking his little treasure with him. He killed him with a single blow, not thinking about consequences. He would make sure to punish the guards that allowed him to infiltrate onto the Hyuga main house and take the heiress!

But his actions proved to have devastating consequences when Hizashi’s death was required to pay the debt.

Hiashi was devastated, his own brother died because of him. He could do nothing to stop it, he didn’t manage to obtain the hokage’s support, or even his father’s. He tried to refuse but Hizashi blocked his tenketsu and by the time he regained control of his body, his brother was dead.

Little Hinata was missing from the funeral. Someone said that she was staring at Neji before fleeing from the place. No one saw where she headed to.

When Hiashi found her outside the Hyuga compound doors, her little body trembling, standing on the cold snow with not enough clothes to warm her, his first instinct was to carry and hug his little daughter to protect her. But as soon as the relief came, the rage replaced it. How could she be so reckless? Didn’t she understand that this happened because someone tried to take her from his side? Yet she was putting herself in danger again.

-Hinata, you are the heiress of the clan. I expect you to behave like that. –He said acidly, and little Hinata shed a tear.

Ever since then, those feelings would repeat themselves.

He wanted Hinata to be the best, to prove her value. He wanted to be proud of his heiress, but Hinata started failing over and over, lacking more confidence each time. Hiashi noted Hinata was specially affected by Neji’s harsh treatment towards her, but he couldn’t blame the boy. He tried his best to keep them apart, only having him to train with her every once in a while so he could see his nephew’s development and make sure he was being well trained.

But after the day Neji tried to harm Hinata and he lost his composure again, using the seal against the boy, he decided not to do it ever again. He would only hurt the children further.

And when he was forced to make his daughters fight each other for the position of the heiress, his heart broke. He held Hinata by the shoulders, asking her to prove her value. His words sounded as a warning, but he meant them as a plea.

He was then forced to cast Hinata away, and he couldn’t stand the sight of her for his heart would hurt when he saw her so sad and afraid of him.

He was a Hyuga, and the clan’s head by the way, he had allowed his love for his daughter to interfere in the clan matters for so long, he could no longer afford that.

He told Kurenai, Hinata’s appointed sensei, that he didn’t care if Hinata died and that the clan didn’t need a failed heiress as her, more trying to convince himself than his fellow ninja. Nevertheless, he felt as if half of his heart was ripped out of his chest when he realized, via following Hanabi’s gaze, that Hinata was standing right out of the dojo and could hear clear and sound all of his poisonous words.

Hiashi let a sigh out, getting out of his memories. He had been holding too much sighs lately, since the day Neji asked for Hinata’s hand in marriage. Troublesome.

-Oh, father! –Hanabi said as they approached, both his daughters bowing down to him –Hinata-neesama was helping me perfect my kaiten! Can’t believe her range is still much bigger than mine!

-That’s only because Neji is such a good techer, Hanabi –Hinata said with a gentle smile –We should ask him to join us next time.

-Neji-niisan would only train you –Hanabi grumbled.

-Mmh! –Hiashi cleared his throat trying to get their attention. More like to make them stop talking about Neji, by the way –Have you finished your training? I would like to have dinner with my daughters…

This was not what Hiashi planed.

Seating on the dining table was not only him and his daughters, but also the culprit of his distress. Neji. It was even worse that he was so kind towards Hinata even in front of him. Well, yes, he was only kind, not inappropriate. But, could heavens make Hinata stop smiling as a fool to him? It was irritating.

And on top of that, Hanabi was talking nonstop about them, making them blush at every comment. “Hinata-neesama this” “Neji-niisan, you should take her to that place” “You two are so cute together” and only the gods knew how much nonsense his youngest daughter was spouting.

The worst was when Hanabi came up with “When Neji-niisan and Hinata-sama give me a niece or nephew…”

Hinata blushed from head to toe. Neji looked as if he could stand no more being there, ready to flee at the next of Hanabi’s words. But Hiashi… Hiashi almost choked on his tea, prompting them all to stand to check on him.

“Children of their own” He thought. But Hinata was his little baby, how could she have a baby of her own?

***

Some time passed and Neji finally proposed to Hinata. To be honest, he had taken much more time to do so than anyone expected, Hiashi’s agony lingering far longer.

But now that Hinata had accepted, and that the engagement party was over, he felt much calmer.

He saw his daughter walking down the corridor overviewing the training yard, dressed in her ceremonial white kimono. She was surely tired after the party, but he needed a word or two.

-Hinata –He approached hesitating, still trying to find the words –I… I hope the engagement party was of your liking.

Startled, Hinata looked at him before answering with her gentle smile –Yes, father.

-I… I wish you and Neji all happiness, but if you ever regret….

-Father –Hinata interrupted him –I am very certain of my decision. Neji is the only one I would ever marry –Her cheeks stained in pink, but her voice was firm.

Hiashi remembered the day Neji asked for Hinata’s hand. His words had been the same towards her, even the blushing was equal. They truly belonged to each other. He was certain there was no better man for his daughter. He would not give his little treasure to anyone less deserving.

-I see, Hinata –He took some steps towards her and embraced his daughter for probably the first time ever since she turned three years old –But please, remember always, even before Neji, even before anyone… I loved you first.

[narwhalandchill]

guys im sorry i swear ill start talking more abt all the positive aspects of 2.0 soon but. welp

(firefly rant TWO!!! now with otto apocalypse. okay not even abt her lol its just ranting about misrepresentations of otto and The Memes being made. iykyk. but anyway. spoilers and all 🫡🫡)

so first of all i dont go there anymore so the lore details might be fumbled a bit but also like the actual fucking disrespect to otto and WHY kallens death had such a massive fucking impact on him when u act like the situation there is anywhere NEAR comparable to the TB and firefly situation in 2.0 💀 "oh its just a meme" well its a BAD one im sorry

like YES otto has or at least had some degree of romantic feelings towards kallen but that was FAR from all she represented to him??? like the entire point is that in ottos eyes over time as he grew more and more cynical ruthless and jaded kallen slowly became less of just. a human being. and started turning into the actual and ONLY personification of all good that is even worth fighting for anymore when it comes to humanity itself.

kallen to otto was the literal representative of hope and humanitys goodness. and yes that degree of idolatry is fundamentally dehumanizing towards her too and disregards her personhood but thats WHY its so fucking interesting. kallen was just a human being doing her best to fight for the people and do good yet ottos perception of her grew into one stained by obsession and defined thru blind worship because NO ONE ELSE but her could convince him there was jack shit to the world worth fighting for

THATS where his obsession comes from. THATS why otto went to the ends of the earth and beyond to resurrect her all the while knowing shed feel nothing but utter horror at witnessing how far he fell just for her. bc kallen has NEVER seen herself the way otto did. kallen wouldve NEVER wanted ANYONE to go through the lengths that otto did (KNOWINGLY in violation of her wishes) for her. because she knew better. but thats not how otto was.

in ottos eyes humanity became fundamentally irredeemable when kallen was first vilifed and sentenced to death and then died sacrificing herself for the very same people who were going to execute her anyway. humanity proved itself worthless by failing kallen. THATS his breaking point thats driving his actions the entire time after kallens death and why hes willing to commit all and any sins imaginable to save kallen. because in his mind for a very long time kallen hasnt been just a woman he loved as a friend and as an unrequited crush whose death crushed him just bc omg death grief sad uwu. otto ALREADY had a completely warped perception of the world when kallen was still alive but through her death it all just escalated and turned him into the actually insane madman maniac we know him as. and because humanity already proved itself a failure by betraying kallen as the actual messiah-figure she grew into in his head there was no price too high to force the rest of the world to pay on his way to saving kallen.

so.

is that what fucking firefly represents to TB to these ppl????? the irreversible shattering of the worldview of someone already teetering at the edge of a point of no return??? is "omg crush died sad 😢" how fucking shallow do ppl think ottos core motivation is??? holy shit

ok anyway i swear ill calm down now HSJSJSJSKSKSKDK but like DUDE theres a Reason i actually bawled when that mf died in hi3rd and thats BECAUSE he was so fucking good as a fucked up antagonist BECAUSE he was never omg entitled incel (btw. do ppl like. know kallen rejected his offer of political marriage to save her life when she was already due to execution and that he. completely respected it? like. he let her reject him even when it meant certain death for kallen. i s2g ive seen terminally online kallen f/f shippers on twt act like hes some cishet stalker and i.....😭 like hate on him sure he deserves it but dont smear his name????!??) or anything bland or creepy like that. his worship of kallen and who he built her up to be in the pedestal of his mind is so messed up and toxic and tragic (bc he Actually loved her so much?? beyond platonic or romantic? but in all the wrong obsessive ways??? like its so messy) and genuinely interesting in a way u dont see that often in fiction and im actually mad to see his motivations reduced to waa waa honkai beast stabbed kallen.

like EVEN if you enjoyed and were emotionally invested in firefly and TBs arc. (which is perfectly fair im happy for yall!!!! dont let my hater antics get to u!!!) but do NOT be out there acting they had anything like what ottos fucked up complex around kallen is and was at any point of his life please and thank you. this blonde freak of a man didnt LITERALLY defy the laws of the universe just bc kallen dying made him cRaZY 🤪 it was FAR worse than that. HE was far worse than that. i rest my case