#HALF MY MAIN. FAVES IN HERE

[tetsuskei]

this just looks like a group orgy to me

[lexiesdoodles]

Precure doodles

[rotisseries]

hi rori ! i hope this isn't annoying for you, i just had a question :O feel free to ignore this if you want ~ anyway, i've seen her name mentioned quite frequently and her aesthetic seems remarkably cool, but i'm afraid i'm going to listen to the wrong song and end up not liking her and i don't want that >.< so,,, may i please request some ethel cain recommendations ?

hiii no its not annoying at all! so, first off, my mutual who got ME into ethel has a list of some of her favorite songs going from least to most intense as a general recommended listening order, which worked well for me.

some of MY favorite songs, assembled in similar order, are: american teenager, crush, michelle pfieffer, god's country, a house in nebraska, famous last words (RECENT RELEASE!!) hard times, strangers, and inbred.

honorable mentions go to televangelism, an instrumental interlude from the preacher's daughter album, everytime, which is a britney spears cover, and the live version of morning elvis by florence + the machine which features her.

if you're more of a whole albums type of person, I'd go in reverse release order honestly. all of her stuff is SOOO good but my favorites are definitely the latest album and ep. so that'd be preacher's daughter, and then inbred. no matter if you do frequently listen to whole albums or not though, I think you should ABSOLUTELY listen to preacher's daughter in order at least once, preferably with the genius lyrics pulled up lol. it is a GORGEOUS and well thought out concept album about a young woman from the south who runs away from home and eventually meets a gory end

[innielove]

my top 10 albums of 2022✨

these albums, in no particular order, are some of my favorite things that came out in 2022! i enjoyed obsessively listening to these on repeat for hours at a time 💖

and here are 10 more albums that didn't make it into the top 10, but are still very close to my heart:

e'last - roar

seventeen - face the sun

woodz - colorful trauma

cix - 'ok' episode 1: ok not

wei - love pt.1: first love

treasure - the second step: chapter two

chungha - bare&rare, pt. 1

txt - minisode 2: thursday's child

pixy - reborn

purple kiss - memem

+not an album, but onlyoneof's underground idol songs!!

[networkunsupported]

appropos of nothing (locking eyes with the dash rn) but

1. queerbaiting may be defined purely as the hinting at same-sex relationships in media, but 'gay' and 'queer' are not necessarily interchangeable- if a relationship between two people of the same gender includes at least one queer person, then it is not queerbaiting. because there is no baiting- that is just being queer.

yes, this goes for if at least one person in that relationship is aromantic or asexual or demi or transgender or any of the above. they are queer. there is no baiting. even if there is no same-sex relationship. it's queer. end of.

2. queerbaiting takes time and effort and is deliberate on the part of the writer. a story about two men being friends is not in any way queerbaiting by its own, and neither is a story with the potential to be about a gay relationship, or the undercurrent of possibility of a gay relationship being involved. you are reading that into the text, and the text is not obliged to conform.

3. two men- two homosexual, gay men, can be in close situations together, form friendships, travel alongside one another, possess each other's bodies- whatever, and still not fall in love. there's nothing saying they have to do that.

4. honestly, if i was the writers of these stories, i'd almost be insulted. you're telling me the world of this universe, the vast, expansive world, with all its lore and its development and plot and characters and whatnot-- you're telling me the only reason you, as a reader, kept going with this piece of work is because you thought two men might kiss? maybe it's just my sensibilities talking, but... come on now.

you can see the way these characters influence each other and the world and the events of the story- and you can read what you will into it, but accept that's what it is- a reading. that's what you're supposed to do with stories like this- adapt it, take what you want from it. but don't blame the original text- or, god forbid, the author, for not exactly following your own version of events.

i'll shut my ass up about all of this now but like... cmon.

[vero-niche]

as a bsd fan of 7 years... im absolutely sure he's gonna be okay. Not only that, but so will akutagawa, fukuzawa, etc, and im certain of this exactly because dazai died.

theres a reason why so many mistake bsd for a shounen, even though it's not - most of the main cast, well, cant die. but! that doesn't mean they are untouchable.

others have said this before as well, but bsd at its core is hopeful - it's about second chances, doing good, finding a reason to live, even if you yourself feel like you don't deserve it anymore. therefore, killing off the the character who stands prominently from the start for this would not fit the narrative at all.

now, before dazai died, i wasnt 100% sure akutagawa would live, but now it's all just too grim to be true. my theory is that they gonna reverse time, possibly before the page was written or that destroying the page will result in the same.

as to how they gonna get to that, i wont even attempt to guess, but two things to note: asagiri is balls to the walls insane, and a recurring pattern is little people who "shouldnt matter" turning the tides on a grand scale (e.g. aya, tachihara, ranpo's detective buddy, etc). so i expect it's either gonna be someone we forgot about (where's mori?? or kyouka??) or aya's plan working, or some other character who hadnt had much screentime thus far (agatha christie? natsume?).

either way, those stray dogs are gonna live, they just gotta die first a bit <3

love loses 😔💔

[gloomwitchwrites]

(I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but here goes nothing)

For Imagines and What Ifs, how do you think the 141 men would react to you wanting to keep your last name after you got married?

Would be they be chill about having separate names? Would they be hurt that you don't want their last name? Would they suggest a hyphenated last name as a compromise? Or (my personal fave) would they change their last name instead?

Greetings, anon! You absolutely submitted a request correctly! I adore this idea. I love thinking about any of these men as married men and what they're like in that regard. I can easily see this prompt having angst and fluff. What I would like to do is answer the last half of the prompt. Those are four distinct questions, and four distinct ideas, and I think each of them matches to one of the 141 guys in turn. That is how I would like to tackle this request (if you don't mind).

I'm sure my selections might not match up with everyone's opinion but that's why fanfiction is so wonderful. We can all have different ideas and HCs and they are all valid in their own way.

Enjoy!! I had so much fun with this one!! Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, fluff, light angst, married life

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You don’t want to take my last name?” He sounds hurt, and that breaks your heart.

“It’s not personal, Johnny. I’ve earned my title.”

“I know,” he says softly. “You worked hard. But—” Johnny sighs and rubs his chin. He glances away, clearly growing agitated.

“I love you,” you murmur, kissing his cheek.

Johnny melts a bit, kissing you back. “I’d like to call you Mrs. MacTavish.”

“And you can,” you reply softly. “Sometimes.”

“Like when?”

You need to turn his mood around. Leaning in, you playfully nip at his bottom lip. “When we’re alone. In the bedroom.”

Johnny grins.

John Price

“We need to talk about this, John. I feel like you’re avoiding the conversation.”

John’s tea mug pauses just before reaching his lips. “Avoiding what conversation?”

“About me keeping my last name,” you reply, crossing your arms

John sighs and places the mug on the counter. “You can do what you want.”

“Does it not upset you?” you ask cautiously.

“Not upset, love,” he says softly. “You’re a grown woman. I’ll respect what you want.”

You step up to him, one hand pressed to his waist. “Sure about that?”

John leans forward, stealing a kiss. “I’m more than sure, love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I don’t want to change my last name, Simon. It’s…special to me.”

Simon stands stoic and calm. He understands. Names are important. They carry memory. Sometimes good ones. Sometimes bad.

“That’s your choice,” replies Simon slowly.

“You’re not upset?”

“I’ll respect whatever you decide.”

Your sigh of relief is soft and calming. This has been a burden for you.

“What if I take your last name?”

You frown. “What?”

Simon repeats the question.

“You want that?”

“I do,” answers Simon firmly.

Names are important. Names carry memory.

Riley is Simon’s father's name. It would be a relief to shed it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“How do you feel about a compromise?” Kyle asks softly. “Instead of us keeping our last names.”

It’s a conversation the two of you have had repeatedly after saying “I do.” You want to keep your last name, and while Kyle respects it, you sense he’s not entirely happy about it.

“A compromise? What are you thinking?”

“Hyphenate them.”

“Really?” you laugh.

“Yeah,” he grins. “My name first or yours. Doesn’t matter. A bit of both of us.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “I can see it.”

“Be the same for our kids.”

“I like it,” you reply.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @spookyscaryspoon @vrb8im

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[shijiujun]

A Summary: The Spirealm | 致命游戏 (Kaleidoscope of Death 死亡万花筒 Live Action) & Why You Should (Eventually) Watch It

Talk about the most short-lived drama release ever, not even totalling two hours if I recall. Creating this summary as I've seen a handful of confused friends, so here it goes!

It's going to be a long review because I sped through all 78 episodes and only properly watched the first two doors, but I got you. You'll get both the brief book rundown and the drama parts!

If you just wanna see the bromance (LOVE) parts please skip to section 4!!!!

1. Overview

Title: The Spirealm (kinda awful I'm sorry it's a mouthful) or 致命游戏 which means fatal game

Adapted From: Danmei (BL) Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu

Novel Prints: There are GORGEOUS Thai, Vietnamese, Simplified and Traditional Chinese versions printed, AND Singapore publisher Rosmei has signed the license for the ENGLISH version, probably going on sale this year (preview is here). You can still access fan translations by Taida on I think wordpress and someone else on Tumblr sorry bad memory (they did half and half each) if you'd like to read it for context. It is one of my FAVE danmeis EVER and I am a die-hard OG book fan, check out my full danmei review here.

Total Episodes: 78 (20 minutes each with the exception of last episode which 10 minutes, with several BTS not that I think we will get to see all of them yet)

Where to Watch (LOL): Erm considering that iQIYI China AND International took the episodes down, there is no legal way to watch this, BUT thanks to some cnetz with super fast and great wifi, we managed to get ripped HD versions without subs. iQIYI is very hard on copyright though, they've taken down several subbed and unsubbed versions already on YouTube, but you should type the titles of show into Twitter and the top tags will tell you where to access the raws and very little subbed episodes, that may also be taken down at any point. I have the Chinese raws but as it's hosted on a cloud, I had to pay to access it.

Main Characters: Lin Qiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the novel) and Ling Jiushi & Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie (in the drama)

Produced By: iQIYI so for SURE they won't film it fully BL even if the original is, but I've seen enough bromance cuts

Main Actors: Xia Zhiguang (Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie) + Huang Junjie (Ling Jiushi)

2. Summary

Book (drama follows closely if not removing the supernatural premises): Lin Qiushi, a designer, opens the door to his home one day from inside and sees 12 iron doors outside. Confused, he opens one of them and arrives at a snow covered village in the mid of winter, and meets Ruan Baijie, who's a pretty, unusually tall and whiny/timid woman. They realise that they're in a horrifying door game, and they'll have to find a door and a key to get out, while battling a long-haired, human-eating deity. They, along with a few others, have to survive day after day until they get out, and on the first night, two people have died in gory ways. Ruan Baijie and Lin Qiushi partner each other, and despite seemingly timid and crying all the time, she saves Lin Qiushi a few times mysteriously, and Lin Qiushi finds himself trusting in Ruan Baijie.

They get through the door together and when they leave successfully, Lin Qiushi realizes that the people who died in the door will die in real life by some freak accident too - car accidents, forced suicides, a robbery gone wrong, a lift trapped in the air and going ablaze, and more. That night, Lin Qiushi wakes up to see a super handsome and tall Ruan Nanzhu at his bedside and this man feels familiar to him, but he can't put a finger on it. All he can think of when Ruan Nanzhu says his name is Ruan Baijie (ahem he would later find out who it is of course). Ruan Nanzhu takes him to his mansion in the suburbs where he meets a group of other people just like them, who're forced to go through the doors for survival. Ruan Nanzhu then invites him to join Obsidian, his organization.

Through various doors, Lin Qiushi grows and supports a super intelligent and powerful Ruan Nanzhu, falls in love with him, gets through many many scary doors with him and some of their other team members, makes friends, loses them to the cruelty of the doors as they ponder over what the door means, and what being alive/dying means.

And at the end of it, at the end of of it all, when they're all good and living their life, Lin Qiushi also finds out what Ruan Nanzhu's secret is, and the lengths to which Ruan Nanzhu went to, just to be with him.

Drama: Ling Jiushi is a VR game designer who gets pulled into a game, and he meets Ruan Baijie (in his male form) right off the bat (SO NOT CROSSDRESSING I AM SAD). All the parts are actually the same as the novel, albeit with the game setting and Ling Jiushi and Ruan Nanzhu's identity adjustments to suit the game premise. Most of the other doors and their lines are the same, just that the ending is a bit more confusing than it could be. There's a big bad as well and they actually show the opposing organizations when in the novel, these other organizations aside from Obsidian didn't even actually have a face or goal to them.

3. Characters

^ Them in the book (based on manhua that never got to go live LOL) (RNZ/RBJ left, LQS right)

^ Them in the show (LJS left, RNZ right)

Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie: MY HANDSOME CROSSDRESSING INTELLIGENT ALOOF BUT WHINY (WHEN IT COMES TO LIN QIUSHI) SASSY BOSS!!!! He's super mysterious and super thick-skinned too, and all he wants is Lin Qiushi's attention the moment he meets him. He's intrigued by Lin Qiushi's calm and his brains and the way he handles things, and has a lot of trust for him right from the get-go. This is also shown in the drama itself. As the leader of Obsidian, he cares a lot for his team members and his friends even if he doesn't show it most of the time, and the last thing he wants to do is lose Lin Qiushi, and he would do ANYTHING for Lin Qiushi, ANYTHING!!! Just look at him whining:

Ling Jiushi (Lin Qiushi): In the novel he's super calm, has quite a lot of brains, a little bit of a blur in the beginning but he's super smart as well. Worries a lot for Ruan Nanzhu and is also a loyal friend to some of his only friends, and feels a lot when he loses them. Falls gradually in love with Ruan Nanzhu in the novel, like they just belong together. In this drama, Ling Jiushi holds that same trust for Ruan Nanzhu, but in demeanour he seems a bit more like a klutz and and not as cool as he was in the novel, but I guess it's acceptable. Literally like the only thing he loves more than RNZ (maybe) is his cat Chestnut LOL and RNZ is NOT really happy about that but Chestnut LOVES RNZ

Yixie and Qianli: CUTEST TWINS ;-; WHO TREAT RNZ and LQS as their big brothers LOOK AT THEM BOWING AND RNZ/LJS like parents LMAO

A handful of other characters who will keep turning up and get your hearts ;-;

4. ALL FAVE BROMANCE MOMENTS + TROPES

THEY TOUCH EACH OTHER A LOT LIKE HOLDING HANDS AND TOUCHING FACES, PIGGY BACKING?!?! DID I MENTION FACE TOUCHING

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP THEY HELP EACH OTHER WHEN HURT OR GET HURT FOR EACH OTHER

AND WHEN THEY WAKE UP IN BED THE OTHER IS AT THEIR BEDSIDE

AND DID I MENTION HE FEEDS HIM IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE

AND THAT THEY DATED UNDER THE FIREWORKS LIKE THE NOVEL DOES NOT EVEN HAVE THIS SHIT

AND THE KABEDONS

AND FINALLY RUAN NANZHU RIZZ OMG

5. Settings

They REALLY OUTDID THEMSELVES. THIS JUST FROM DOORS 1-6:

THEY LOOK EXACTLY LIKE THE NOVEL DESCRIBED!!!!

6. Overall Thoughts

PROS: This was NOT a cheap production, I'm telling you, they followed the cases very well and there're a lot of super recognisable lines, if not ALL of them, even if they changed the cases a little. I think they did it because in the novel originally, the author DOES leave a lot of details hanging like someone dies and you know he had a background and there are some shady things happening but the author NEVER actually goes into detail. So the drama did their best to cover these loopholes, even if it felt a little awkward at times. Money went into settings and attires and every damn thing, this looks EXPENSIVE. And if you've ever imagined each door and the bosses inside in your head, you might have felt chills go down your spine because damn did they really colour the book's settings for me (despite its differences). DID I MENTION that Xia Zhiguang really got the damn memo and he was a passable Ruan Nanzhu/Ruan Baijie who knew how to turn on his BL eyes. PLUS they really did some of the character deaths really well - they're technically some of the biggest parts of this story so ;-; (not two main of course)

CONS (maybe): They did away with the supernatural/horror premise and replaced it with a GAME premise, which means that there's a scientific element to it and the try to explain away stuff with the game, including the ending. I don't 100% get the ending, but the feel/vibe is about the same. Might not be for hardcore reader fans tho! They skipped out on a couple of doors, some of which were my faves, but it's fine, it's long enough LOL. They give away/explain some of the clues and surprises super early which means you don't get that added boom at the back as well. Despite that, I have to say they tried to round up the loopholes from the book as much as they could and give it an explanation while tying elements/conspiracies across doors (probably also to save cast fees LOL). And as always it's not a solid ending, it's an open confusing one, and even more confusing than the book itself because THERE IS NO CERTAIN HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH HUBBY for it (there is in the book tho, they live together happily every after). Secondl,y, I'd say HJJ's acting is a bit stiff and OOC compared to the novel, but Xia Zhiguang really made up for it.

-------

HOPE THIS HELPS YOU GUYS!!! But I guess if you need subs it's going to be a long LONGGGG ride, considering that iQIYI doesn't seem to be going to be able to put it up anytime soon CRIES.

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part II

So, I gotta confess, I wrote the whole story just to get to this part. Not that I don’t like the other bits, but this is my humble and inferior tribute to two of my all-time favorite stories: "Magic Fingers" by Calamity King, which you can find under that name on GSS, and one part of the amazing series by Aarvark that I think was called "Meat Market" (the transformation of Steven into Ennis is still one of my all-time faves). Unfortunally I haven’t even found it in his Aardchive. Anyway, I hope you all dig it! And if you get the chance to read both stories, do it; they’re way better than what I’m serving up here.

How the hell could someone disappear so fast? Mark thought as he tried to shove his way through the packed dance floor, looking for Fred or at least a way to the restroom. He didn’t seem more lost than the blond guy a bit older than him, and his friends, who just stepped onto the main stage, looking totally confused.

Not really paying attention to what was going on up there, he kept pushing through that human jungle, hunting for his buddy. He barely noticed the music drop, the chaos around him shoving or blocking his way to the stage. He could hear catcalls, boos, and every now and then, some random words or phrases.

“...ever been to Texas?”

“...how much do you weigh?”

“...how much can you lift?”

“...looks like Clint Eastwood...”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the music blasted again from the speakers, making him lose his balance and grab onto the muscular arm of an older dude to keep from falling. When the hell did the place get so packed with guys?

“Sorry, man,” he said to the grumpy guy.

“No worries, kid; if you need a hand with anything else…” the dude said, making an obscene gesture with his hand and mouth.

“...no thanks!” Mark replied, backing away as fast as he could from that sketchy figure. Finally spotting a wall close to the stage. Stopping to catch his breath, he noticed a very muscular blond guy dressed as a cowboy flexing his powerful muscles, driving the crowd wild.

“Crap, Jamie put us in a gay bar!” he exclaimed, totally dazed. But then he saw a sign pointing to the restrooms right behind the stage. Thinking he’d find Fred and then grab Jamie and kick his ass back to the hostel for that screw-up, he headed that way. But instead of the bathroom, he ended up in the empty backstage area. After taking a few disoriented steps, he decided to turn back because that was definitely not the path Fred took. He had barely walked when someone called out to him.

“Hey, kid! What the hell are you doing here?” Turning quickly to apologize and find the fastest way to the restroom, Mark found himself face to face with the cowboy from the show—holy crap, he looked like a jacked-up Clint Eastwood! He thought, gaping at the tattooed chest of the giant.

“Kid, you good?” the man asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“Y-Yeah… sorry, I need… bathroom.”

“Ohh, I get it… just go this way.” The man replied with a sly grin, which Mark seemed to miss as he followed the direction the guy pointed.

He found himself in a narrow hallway lit by a few lights, and at the end of it… he was on stage! “What the hell is this?!” he shouted, but no one heard him over the crowd’s cheers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here’s your favorite host, Mr. Shay! Please welcome our newest participant!” a voice boomed from the other side of the stage.

“Who the hell is a lady?!!!” someone in the crowd roared.

“Alright, you bunch of degenerates! Let’s give it up for Mark Jordan!” the voice continued as the crowd half-cheered, half-booed. As Mark turned toward the voice, he got the shock of his life. The guy from the club entrance was there, without his suit jacket, showing off his muscular torso, but it wasn’t that which caught the young man’s attention; it was the pair of ram horns sprouting from the guy’s head. After the initial shock, the young man rationalized it as just stage props.

I need to get outta here, Mark thought, turning to leave, only to find the door was locked.

“Calm down, kid; just answer a few questions, and we’ll let you walk outta here unscathed and a grand richer!”

“A grand?” he asked, making the horned man smile.

“He’s in! The dude shouted, sending the audience into a frenzy. “So, Mark, tell us more about yourself!”

“How do you know my name?”

“Your buddy Jamie spilled the beans!”

“Son of a bitch!” Mark cursed.

“Calm down, kid; we’re a classy joint!” Mr. Shay mocked as the crowd howled. “And you haven’t told us anything about yourself yet, Mark; this can’t keep going on! Got any nicknames?”

“Nope.”

“Really? How much do you weigh?”

“Uh, maybe around 170?”

“Seriously? I thought you were heavier; you look like you’ve got some muscle under that preppy outfit,” the guy scoffed.

“Well… I… I work out regularly…”

“No kidding, do you lift weights???"

“Nah, I’m on the track team; I wanna run a marathon someday.”

“Okay, then…”

“More!” someone in the crowd shouted.

“Looks like they’re into you, kid.”

“Yeah… seems that way…” Mark murmured, flustered.

“You seem pretty tall, Mark; how tall are you?”

“Actually, I’m not that tall. I’m 5’8” and that’s if I’m wearing taller shoes,” the kid tried to joke, only to get booed by the crowd, quickly shrinking back.

“Leave the kid alone, you vultures. So I think we have enough…”

“More!!!” someone shouted again.

“My God, Mark, you really won the crowd over. But our time is short. What do you do for a living, kid?”

“I… I’m in pre-law college.” The kid replied, his voice trembling, fearing the crowd’s reaction, and rightly so, as a new wave of boos erupted from the audience.

“Hmm… I see. But you’re of age, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. How old are you, anyway?”

“I… I… twenty… I’m twenty… three, yeah, twenty-three years old.” He replied, thinking of the first number that came to mind.

“A year behind? Must’ve been all those parties you hit up! Bet you love being the center of attention, huh?”

“Uh-huh, not really…”

“More, more!”

“Alright, one last question then? Have you ever been outta the country, Mark?”

“No, I was born and raised in America, but once I graduate, I plan to check out some place… Italy, maybe?” he replied, thinking about the hot chicks at the hostel.

“Perfect! So music for Mark!” the man shouted, and the speakers on stage exploded in unison. However, Mark didn’t seem to hear the deafening noise, trapped in his own thoughts. He felt his mind expanding and contracting, as if a ton of info was being pulled from him and another load was being added. But to anyone watching from the outside, all they saw was the young guy smiling dreamily to the music, that is, until he started to age and grow. As the years passed him by, his muscle mass increased, and a beard sprouted. In no time, one could see the natural path the young man’s body would have taken if he had put in a little more work, with light brown hair growing longer, a stubbly beard covering the strong chin that the loss of baby fat would reveal. Then he began to pack on pounds and pounds of pure muscle, while his hair darkened and shrank back in size, and his beard grew fuller. His arms became a combination of cannonball biceps with horseshoe triceps and onion shoulders; his pecs widened into two slabs of juicy meat, and his abs turned into a brick wall. The polo he was wearing transformed into an old t-shirt, and the khakis he was in shrank down to extremely short running shorts, showcasing his lean, defined legs. Legs that wouldn’t stay that way for long, starting with his feet, which grew absurdly, leaving his sneakers in tatters and exposing to the world his giant paws with long, wide toes covered in a fine layer of black fur. Next, his calves expanded to the point where it looked like someone had shoved a football into each one, and finally his thighs, as wide as support columns, bulging the shorts to their limit, making it unthinkable that this man could ever run a marathon. As the music started to fade, the man flexed one of his powerful biceps and then turned around, showing his bubble butt to the crowd, before finally lifting his shirt provocatively, revealing his six-pack while flexing both arms and smiling at the audience.

“A round of applause, gentlemen, for our incredible participant.” Mr. Shay's voice announced excitedly. “Now let’s recap our questions.

“So, Mark…”

“Marco,” the man interrupted.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that…” the demon man replied, with a smile that said he totally understood.

“My name isn’t Mark, it’s Marco.”

“But you said your name was Mark Jordan, a pre-law student, 23 years old, and a member of the track team.”

“That’s the character you asked me to play, Mr. Shay, as if you didn’t know me well enough. College? I had no interest in that, and running? You think a dude my size could run long distances? I wouldn’t dream of losing a single pound of muscle.

“Indeed, so how about you tell us a bit more about yourself? If you didn’t go to college, what do you do for a living?”

“Come on, man, like everyone here hasn’t seen me and fapped for me.” Marco replied with arrogance. “Or are you gonna say you’ve never seen a porn with me? I’m sure I’ve seen at least 30 OF subscribers in the audience.

“Porn? With just 23 years, you probably haven’t done many…”

“23? Try 32! But even back then I was a star in the industry.” He said, drawing boos from the crowd.

“Shut up, you idiots, or you won’t see any more of this!” He said, taking off his shirt and massaging his powerful pecs, grinning provocatively before flexing his arms, raising the ambient temperature several degrees.

“Calm down, Marco; we’re among friends here. A man your size has to be careful; you must measure what? At least 6’3” and weigh over 250 pounds?”

“Way off, but I’m sure any of these pervs in the audience could tell you I measure 6’8” and weigh 300 pounds of pure muscle.”

“Interesting...”

“What’s not interesting about me?” Marco shot back provocatively, as if ready to start a fight for any reason, before bursting into laughter at a new wave of cheers from the crowd, relishing the attention directed at him.

“Calm down, Marco; I just find it interesting that an Italian guy uses our measurement system so well.” Mr. Shay replied as Marco went through one last transformation. His hair changed from dark brown to pitch black, and his already tanned skin took on an olive tone very close to Mr. Shay’s, further accentuating his powerful muscles, which expanded a bit more, etched with bulging veins, and his abs became a powerful roid gut, which could justify all the bravado of the man, who at that moment continued to smile as Mr. Shay announced.

“Marco Giordani, The Italian Stallion, and his incredible portrayal of an American college student! Congratulations, Marco; it’s always a pleasure to have you with us.” He said as the man waved at the audience, soaking up the attention.

“Now I’ll take my leave and let you enjoy Marco’s special show.” Mr. Shay concluded, throwing a provocative look at the Italian man, inviting him to join him later. Before turning to the audience once more. “But don’t worry, after his show, the night still holds many surprises.”

[itsnathateasy]

aot characters reacting to you asking them “what are we?” (part 2)

warnings: just fluff word count: 1,4k author's note: i’m sorry if your fave isn’t here, even tho it’s a part 2! i focused on the characters i connect with the most, also, why did i go so overboard with zeke lol

read part 1

⭑🌻 ⭒🤎 . ✦ 🙈 . ⁺ . ✦ 🙈 . ⁺ . ✦ 🙈 . 🤎⭒🌻 ⭑

reiner simply goes “what do YOU think we are hehe…” you could tell he was being more awkward than before you popped the question, because he kept rubbing his palm on the nape of his neck, as he was getting more and more red by the second. “i guess i need some reassurance reiner. we’ve been dating for a while and i’d like to know what lies ahead, are we an item or are we casual?” “damn y/n, do you really wanna be in a relationship with me?” at this he plopped himself down on the chair, burying his head in his hands. “ugh… you do remember i’m in love with you, right? and you wanted to talk about moving in together soon, but we need to check another box first” you didn’t think you were being too mean, but reiner was silently sobbing?? (poor baby!) “hey… reiner… you don’t have to respond right now, i’m sorry to upset you… but we need to talk about this soon, yeah?”, you ran your hand from his shoulder, down to his arm. “nothing to talk about y/n… i’m in love with you too, i just… i can’t believe you see a future with me, you know?” you moved closer to him and he parted his knees a bit to rest your head between his legs as he kissed you on the forehead. “we’re an item, y/n, and we’re more than good… we’re more than good”

bertholdt didn’t understand the question at first, and asked you to “complete your sentence, y/n! what are we doing? what are we up to? what do you mean?” but the look on your face was enough for him to register the information and simply go “oh”. he sighed as he moved closer to you, clapping his hands together once (and quite awkwardly) before he spoke. “i know that i’m having the time of my life with you, everyday spent with you is wonderful and i love you so much. if the same applies to you, i’m confident we can make this official. what do you say, y/n?” your response being burying yourself in his arms and squeezing him as tightly as possible.

annie would probably give you a good glare when you ask her this, examining you with her gaze, not sure if you’re playing tricks on her or if you’re being serious. eventually, she’d drop the “playing it tough” facade and talk things through with you. “we probably should’ve talked about this way sooner, don’t you think y/n?” she questioned as she leaned her head closer to yours, your heads accidentally banging on each other, resulting in the both of you bursting into laughter. “well, you know what they say annie, friends who headbang together, stay together, i’m sure we can apply it to lovers too”, she smiled at you contently, one of the few times when her smile reached her eyes, her pupils dilating as she stared into your orbs. “you know what y/n, i’m certain we can apply it to lovers” she said as she sloppily banged her head on yours again.

historia gets so nervous she ends up crying, you have to console her back to calmness. it’s not that she’s bothered by your question, but it was too soon for her. “just let me explain myself, y/n”. she told you all about why she reacted like this, the main reason being she’s lost all of her family and many friends and is afraid to properly commit to anyone for fear that they might be gone as well. “are you willing to stick by my side y/n?” she asked you with pleading eyes. when you reassured her that you have all the time in the world, she finally relaxed into your embrace.

pieck was working on your car, half of her body presently concealed by the machine. however, she responds at once, not a tiny bit phased by your inquiry. “we’ve been dating for a while now, i think it’s high time we made our relationship official. plus, with zeke and porco being in town these days, it’s easier to plan our formal dinner, don’t you think? of course you should contact your friends too and make sure at least some of them are able to attend on such short notice. how about two sundays from now? we should get some decor too, right? and a banner that says “just married”, as a joke of course. we can discuss marriage after the party. y/n, are you still there?” she questioned when you didn’t respond. “just wasn’t expecting you to be so eager about this, but yes, it all sounds amazing pieck! can you come up from the car now so i can kiss you?”

you caught zeke in the midst of him completing some paper work, he was so focused, he paid you little mind. “what was that, y/n?” he asked. you didn’t respond, your arms folded on your chest. you weren’t dropping this AGAIN. you’d tried to discuss this matter with him before, but he’d asked you to put it off. this time, you were determined to get a proper answer, even if it meant waiting for him to acknowledge your question. “are you for real now?” he looked up at you, pen falling on the side by the way he was relaxing his grip on it. “i’m for real zeke. i can’t go on like this. i see so many of our colleagues flirting with you at the office and you do nothing. how am i supposed to feel? if i’m your sneaky link, i’d much rather know about it”. zeke pushed his papers aside and patted on his legs, motioning you to sit in his lap. “i never realised this was so important to you, i’m sorry. in my head, we’re very much together, but i see why you want to let the world know. also, i’m not addressing my colleagues’ flirting, as i never addressed yours…” at this point he pinched your cheek playfully “because we work together and i’m trying to keep things drama free, so i’m being friendly and declining their offers. but it’s just you and me babe, don’t worry your mind too much” he put his fingers on your chin, softly pulling your face upwards so that you’d face him. “do you want us to drive together at work tomorrow and walk in holding hands? hm? would that be okay with you?” “yes, zeke, but can we also do that everyday after tomorrow too?” “if that’s what you wish for, love” he said as he kissed you softly.

petra blushes all over and avoids your gaze. as the seconds pass and you get no response out of her, you realise she’s spiralling, you have to pull her out of her thoughts, which you do with a gentle squeeze on the arm. “no need to worry about it, petra. i’d just feel so much safer about us if i knew where we’re standing”. she put her own hand on yours, touching it softly before moving it away from her arm, so that she could hold your it in both of hers. “it’s understandable, y/n, this… conversation’s been long due… but we’re in a relationship, i think. i mean, we’re officially in a relationship. this is what you want too, right?” “yes, petra, of course it’s what i want!” you hugged her and kissed her all over her face, and, as if it was possible, she kept blushing more with each peck. “do you think we should tell captain levi, y/n?” you held back a laughter, before admitting that it was captain levi, who, in fact, encouraged you to talk things through with petra. “so… you mean that captain has known this entire time?” poor baby almost fainted out of embarassment.

yelena isn’t amused, and i mean, not at all amused, she thinks you’re pulling her leg. “seriously, y/n, you ask me this after you’ve met my family, been sneaking away with me during your patrols for months on end and basically everyone knowing we’re together??” she was glaring at you, her gaze filled with anger. “shit yelena, just making sure… we’ve never really discussed our relationship status before, that’s all… please don’t look at me like you’re about to kill me”. at this statement, yelena calmed down a bit, she hadn’t realised you were unsure of where you two stood. “i can forgive you neglecting your duties, but not you not thinking you’re mine”

[macfrog]

lend me some sugar cowboy like me chapter eight

look. i had an idea, i couldn't rest until i wrote it. enJOY part 8 of cowboy like me - check out my masterlist here!!! ALSO the lovely @wildcat116 created a playlist w some of my fave dbf-inspired songs which you can give a listen right heeerreee love u all sm hope u like this gargantuan chapter

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel throws a homecoming garden party for sarah – and decides to make it one to remember

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) i honestly don't even know where to start with this one UHH age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, slightly jealous! slightly possessive!joel n also jealous!reader, sexting, mutual masturbation, phone sex, teasing, very semi-public ✨ activities ✨ involving a beer bottle

word count: 10.1k (lmfao)

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.” Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot. “S-sweeten…your…b…” Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you. “Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”

“No, no, no, hey, baby – don’t change the subject. You didn’t answer my question,” Joel says, one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving around like a maniac’s in midair. “What – is – a garden party?”

Your dad is chortling in the passenger seat.

“If you’d stop interruptin’ me!” you yell from the back. You’re leant forward, head and shoulders between the two of them. “It’s, like, well…drinks, and food, sat out on the patio in the nice weather–”

“Sounds like a barbecue to me!” Joel roars, much to your dad’s delight.

He claps his hands together once and snorts with laughter until he’s out of breath. “That Sarah of yours has you wrapped around her little finger, Joel.”

“She says, ‘I’m too old for a barbecue’. I said, ‘Too old for meat on a grill?’ How do you get to be too old to eat steak cooked on a grill?”

You roll your eyes with a sigh, slumping back in your seat and looking out the window at the buildings sailing by. You’re on your way to Costco to pick up supplies for this barb– garden party Sarah’s requested from Joel. He’s not too impressed by the thought of it.

Your dad’s talking about some client of his who threw his daughter a quinceañera on a yacht off the coast of Florida, for some reason you don’t care to listen to. Joel doesn’t, either. You see his eyes watching you from the rear-view mirror, clocking your expression.

When you turn to fully look back, his eyebrows raise, a question: You okay?

You raise yours back. Whatever.

He breathes a laugh, then plays it off to look like he’s laughing at your dad’s story. The truck pulls in to the parking lot.

By all accounts, your dad shouldn’t trust you and Joel alone together half as much as he does. But when the three of you get out of the car – Joel opens your door for you – he takes off to grab a shopping cart.

You and Joel take the opportunity to meander slowly toward the store. You haven’t had much time as of late to hang out, get some much-needed attention from him, jump each other’s bones. Sarah’s return means one more person to run lies around, one more obstacle stopping you from having precious free time with each other.

More than all of that, you just miss him. Miss the way he talks to you when no one else can hear, the way he reads your mind and gets it right – annoyingly – every damn time.

He loosens his elbow, offering you it, and you snake your arm through it.

“Garden party,” he scoffs. “I sure am glad I have you to keep me right.”

“We’ll make it nice for her,” you reply. “She liked the banner and balloons, right?”

He laughs. “She sure did. Facetimed her roommates to show ‘em off.”

You take a few more paces in silence, the gentle breeze sifting through your hair. It’s nice, just wandering with Joel. His warm arm hooked around yours, safe, steady. You feel you could lean into him and let him guide you along like the wind, all trust in his capable hands.

Then your dad rattles over toward you guys with a squeaky-wheeled cart and fucks it all up.

Joel, ever the casual one, slowly unlinks your arms. He ain’t got nothing to hide. Just being chivalrous to his buddy’s daughter.

“Where to first?” your dad asks.

“Wish I knew.” Joel strolls inside, and you follow, heading into the chilly store.

Joel decides the easiest – and quickest – way to get this shopping trip over with is to split up. He takes decorations, your dad offers to grab some of the food, and you’re left with drinks.

You mosey down the aisles with your janky cart squealing every time you turn. Under fluorescent lights, you spot shelves of soda and make for them, dodging a half-empty cage of stock someone’s emptying.

There are so many brands and flavors it’s actually kinda intimidating, and you wish you had Joel here to tell you which ones he wants. That, and also to reach them for you. The Dr Pepper is on the top shelf, and even though he’d probably tease you for not being able to reach first, his tall form would pull down a crate in one swoop without you even having to ask.

“Oh, let me get those for you!” a voice calls from behind, and you swivel around to see a kid– sorry, a guy in a Costco uniform rushing over from the other side of the aisle. The sides of his strawberry blonde hair are shaven, longer on top, gelled back. Round cheeks, flushed bright pink.

His equally pink arms reach up and grip a crate, pulling it from the shelf.

“Could you please…grab me one of the lemonade, too?”

“Sure thing,” he says.

“Thanks.” You smile as he lays the second carefully in your cart.

“No problem. You new around here? I recognize a lot of folks, never seen you before.”

His name badge reads Zack. It suits him, you think.

Your hands are locked tight around the cart handle. He’s not doing anything wrong, but you still feel awkward. You rock softly from side to side, answering, “Nope, lived here my whole life. Well, that’s not entirely true. I lived in New York City for a few years for college.”

“New York, huh? What’s that like?”

“It’s…good. Kinda place you gotta experience to really…experience, I guess.” You nervously scratch your arm.

“I’ve love to hear more about it. I went to college for, I think, two semesters? And dropped right back out. Wasn’t for me. Are you…Sorry, I’m not tryna be forward. Are you…with anybody?”

“Oh, I, uh…”

Right then you feel the air stop short at your side and notice Joel out of your peripheral vision.

“Hey, you found ‘em,” you say, barely above a whisper, looking at the packs of paper plates locked inside his tight knuckles.

He tosses them into the cart on top of your soda, looking down at you over your shoulder.

“You found drinks.”

“Yep.” If the ground could swallow me up right about now, that’d be great.

Zack shuffles on his feet, looking from you to Joel. He looks panicked. You bite back a laugh.

“Thanks, son.” Joel’s voice is muted, toneless, and he takes the cart straight out of your grasp in one sweep, a quick nod in Zack’s direction.

You don’t move, instead hang back to give the assistant a grateful smile and tell him, “We’re in a bit of a rush. Party’s tomorrow.”

“Wow, well, have fun!” he replies. As you swing off to follow Joel, Zack hops along after you, tapping your shoulder.

“I didn’t catch your name?”

“Naw, but she caught yours, Zack!” Joel yells. Emphasis on the K.

“See ya,” you whisper.

“Makin’ friends, are we?” Joel mutters as you catch up to him.

You lightly hit his bicep. “I couldn’t reach the soda.”

“Poor baby.” He pets his lip. You smack him again, but your stomach floods with heat. Joel doesn’t make note of it. “Need your help pickin’ out a tablecloth,” he says.

“A tablecloth? What’s so hard about a tablecl–”

You round the corner and Joel nods ahead, to where an entire wall of party supplies sits. On the shelves, piles of paper plates, cups, and napkins, and on the pegs above, bags, tablecloths, confetti, cutlery, banners, and bunting.

“Oh…”

“I was thinkin’ that pink one with the stars on it.” Joel nods to the left, finger scratching his nose, where a baby pink sheet lies, white stars all over. You try to mask your frown.

“No?” he asks, looking over at you tensely.

You tilt your head back in his direction. “It’s just…she made such a big deal about bein’ too old for a barbecue. If she’s too old for a barbecue, ain’t she too old for…”

“Pink?”

You flash him a gentle smile. “I reckon she’d like that one.”

You point to a white tablecloth, decorated with metallic gold dots.

“So, no pink, no stars. Gold polka dots are fine?”

“Sure,” you reply.

“Keep me right,” Joel whispers, leaning over to take the packet from its hook.

“Got some nibbles,” your dad’s voice yaps as he joins you two, dumping a dozen bags of candy, chips, and what looks like half the snack section into the cart. He sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “We all done?”

“Just gotta get some platters,” Joel replies, pulling a handwritten list and pen from his back pocket and glancing down it.

You lean over to check it out, smiling at his haphazard handwriting.

Cups

Soda

Plates

Tablecloth?

Balloons

Food

Cake

He draws a line through soda, plates, and the tablecloth.

“You gettin’ a cake?” you ask him.

He replies without lifting his eyes from the list. “Next door neighbor’s doin’ it. She has a bakery in town.”

Your dad’s over by the bunting, studying it all with his hands clasped behind his back.

You lower your tone, leaning in closer. “Neighbor, huh? She cute? She single?”

Joel tuts and gives you a dead-eyed stare. “Might be. Not sure.” He tilts his head. “Why don’t we give her Zack’s number?”

You raise an eyebrow and take the cart from his hands.

“We’re done, Dad. Deli’s on the way out,” you tell Joel, and he follows at your heels.

You didn’t take Joel for a man who spends ten minutes deciding which food platters to buy, but when it hits two-thirty and he’s still standing with his chin between his fingers, you sigh.

“Is it this big a deal?”

“I imagine it is; it’s Sarah we’re talkin’ about here.”

You can’t help the smile that grows on your lips, seeing how determined he is to make it perfect for her. It’s cute, alright? Who would’ve thought Joel Miller would concern himself so much with deli platters?

“Quit that,” he tells you, not even looking in your direction.

“Quit what?”

“Your starin’. Give us away.”

Your hand comes up to shove him and he grabs it, looking over your shoulder to check your dad’s not looking when he pulls you close to him.

“Don’t make me tell you twice, baby.”

You raise your eyebrows, smug grin on your lips, and his eyes dance down your body.

He suddenly lets go of you and you realize why seconds later when your dad’s heavy arm smacks down over your shoulders.

“We done, Joel? There’s this show on National Geographic about sharks I’m tryna catch.”

You roll your eyes at Joel who hands you an amused grin, then places a couple of platters into the cart and leads y’all to the checkouts.

“I’ll take the cart back, get you both at the truck.” Your dad makes off, janky wheel squeaking off to the front doors.

Joel shakes his head in his wake, as bemused by him as you are. You smile Hello to the cashier.

“How are y’all today?” he asks.

“Good, thanks,” you reply, watching Joel’s thick arms hold the crates of soda up to be scanned. He’s tensing, veins lining his tan skin. You could bite into him, you’re so needy. It’s only been a fucking week.

The red light flashes across the barcode with a beep and he settles the drinks down to grab his wallet.

You glance around as he pays. From over Joel’s right shoulder, a familiar set of buck teeth approaches. You avert your gaze, swerving to hide between Joel and the counter.

“I’m goin’ on my break, Tom!” Zack’s voice rings out, and you feel Joel’s chest shift around your shoulder.

“You got the bags?” he asks, casually. Unbothered.

“Mhm,” you reply, not achieving the same level of coolness as he did. Your voice quivers as your eyes scan for Zack, hoping he won’t catch you.

Poor guy. He was friendly enough. Just, you happen to think Joel’s friendlier.

Even if he notices you, you’re already being swept out of the store by Joel, both crates of soda and the platters on top in his arms; a feat that might’ve killed Zack in the soft drinks section. You wander off together back out into the burning heat, eyes squinting in the sun.

Your dad is stood in deep conversation with someone by the cart return, a man with a balding head and blue jeans that you don’t recognize. “I’ll be over in a minute,” he tells you both as you pass, “work stuff.”

Joel loads the truck and you jump in the back.

“You not gonna sit up front with me?” he asks, turning back to you.

“And make my dad sit in the back?”

“Punishment for holdin’ us up.”

You raise your eyebrows and climb over the front seat, sitting in place next to Joel. His hand reaches over and cups your thigh. You like it, feeling like this is your spot. Right next to him. Co-pilot. Captain of the radio.

You probably don’t like the same music Joel does, though.

You bring a hand down to lace through his, fingers intertwining between your legs.

“So, Zack?”

You lean your skull against the headrest and glare up at the roof of the car. “I have no idea. He was just talkin’ to me.”

“He seemed to like you.”

“I’m very likeable.”

“Did you like him?”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately? He look my type?”

Joel gives half a shrug.

“Don’t get all jealous,” you mutter, turning to check on your dad.

“Jealous,” Joel repeats, with a scoff.

“Uh, ‘She caught your name, Zack!’” You echo Joel’s rough inflection, emphasizing his Texas twang, stressing the K the way he did.

“That wasn’t jealousy, baby,” he says softly.

You huff, looking away and crossing your arms.

“You want me to be jealous?”

“No.”

Yeah, you do. It was kinda hot.

Joel’s smirking, you can see it from the corner of your eye.

“I…want you to be…It was hot when you…Well, I…It’s more that…In a word, I’d say–”

Joel’s hand squeezes yours, letting go and sliding slowly up your thigh. Your ears are throbbing with blood rushing when he finally stops just shy of your underwear.

“Got it,” he whispers.

Your eyes drift from his hand up to his expression. If it weren’t for the sweet smile he was giving you, you’d call him arrogant. But his warm expression, the way his head is tilted against his seat to look at you, really take you in, the upturned corners of his mouth…

It’s just as well your dad hauls the truck door open when he does, before you can throw yourself at his best friend.

“I’m in the damn back then, am I? Assholes,” he murmurs as he – struggles to – climb up into his seat.

“Blame your daughter,” Joel chuckles, hand reaching around the back of your headrest to reverse, “huh, Trouble?”

You open your mouth to clap a reply back, but your dad interrupts.

“Trouble?” he asks, brow cocked.

You spin around to watch his face contort in confusion.

“Who the heck is Trouble?”

“Your kid. Always causin’ it,” Joel says.

“Is she, now?”

You cast a look at Joel, out of sight of your dad. Are you fuckin’ serious?

He grins in return, driving off out of the parking lot.

----------

Joel had dropped you guys off on the way home from Costco. You’d wanted to stick around for a few minutes after your dad had hopped out of the truck, but he was relentless.

“Let Joel head off, he’s got a busy evenin’ ahead,” he’d insisted.

Joel had given you an apologetic glance as you unbuckled your seatbelt and followed suit.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He’d quickly kissed the back of your hand as you bid him farewell.

When Sunday rolls around, you spend the morning checking in with him, asking how the party’s looking and receiving photos to judge his decorating skills.

You: Not quite as good without my input, but it’ll do

Joel: Nothing’s quite as good without your input.

When it’s almost time to go, you’re still in the mirror making sure your outfit is perfect for Joel.

Perfect for the party, you mean.

You adjust the strap of your green dress, pulling the floral fabric over your bra. Totally innocent. Just a nice summer dress.

With slutty lingerie hidden underneath.

You’re only wearing it to fuck with him. You know that. Nothing is gonna happen at a fucking garden party. But your eyes flit across your body, trying to get into the mind of a forty-eight-year-old, watching the tops of your thighs as the wind lifts your skirt…

You unlock your phone and your thumb dances over the text thread with Joel. You’d taken some pictures before you’d slipped the dress over yourself, honestly just ‘cause you thought you looked hot, but now that the idea’s in your head…you might as well.

You: Does this lingerie say ‘garden party’?

You hit send and shut your eyes tight until you see stars, blindly throwing your phone to the floor and pacing back and forth. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck was that that was so stupid he’s totally gonna laugh at you you loser he’s–

It doesn’t take long for your phone to vibrate with Joel’s reply. You dive for it, grabbing it with a swoop of your arm.

Joel: Slutty garden party, sure.

You snort. Dick.

You: Like it?

The typing indicator pops up, then disappears, then returns. Three dots blinking at the speed your pulse is racing. Type quicker, old man.

Joel: I prefer what’s underneath it.

Your chest shudders with a sudden inhale. Your face begins to heat. A terrible idea has crossed your mind.

You’ve never been one for sexting. Not much, anyway. Certainly not on an actual message thread. Snapchat, sure, where the messages disappear from both your screen and your mind as soon as you’re done. But never somewhere there’s recorded proof.

It’s kinda hot. Having evidence of you and Joel. Pictures and messages to look back on.

So, you lay back on your bed and spread your legs. Hook a finger around the elastic of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose your – already glistening wet – folds.

You lower your phone, snap a couple pics. Play around, spread your lips, take more.

Then you send one.

Fuck it, right?

You: Sounded like you were missing it…

Your phone’s ringing within ten seconds of hitting send. You pick up and Joel’s calling out to someone.

“–right back, ‘m just goin’ to change.”

Sarah replies something you can’t make out, and Joel sighs.

“Naw, it’s just not very…I wanna look right for it. You look great. Just– I’ll be right back.”

You giggle quietly into the phone. “Excuses, excuses, Miller…”

“The hell are you doin’,” he hisses, bedroom door closing in the background, “sendin’ me that without a warnin’?”

“I did send warnin’,” you protest. “You must’a guessed when I sent the first one what the second was gonna be?”

Joel sighs and you giggle, laying back on your bed. Your hand returns between your legs and you whisper a moan, fingers sifting through soaking folds.

He goes quiet for a second.

“You playin’ with yourself, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Feel good?”

“Yup,” you reply.

“You want me to make you cum over the phone?”

Your breath shudders and your chest heaves. Every damn time, he blows your cool every damn time.

“Uhuh,” you whimper. “’m so fucking wet.”

“Yeah? So needy, baby. Got yourself all riled up, haven’t you? Need me to fix it for you, take it away.”

You moan.

“You still wearin’ those little panties?”

You hum in response. He knows it’s a yes.

“Take ‘em off.”

“Joel, I’m leavin’ in–”

“Off.”

You obey him, dropping the phone onto your bed beside your ear and raising your hips, elastic of your underwear sliding over your pelvis and down your legs. You drop them to the floor and your hands resume position.

“Good girl,” he says, hearing you moan when your fingertips meet your clit again. “That better?”

“Mhm,” you croon.

He hisses, says, “Yeah. Gonna fuck yourself for me, pretty girl?”

You whine a Yes, and hear the clink of his belt buckle, the zip of his jeans. His voice echoes, bouncing off what you assume are his bathroom walls, when he tells you to slide a finger inside yourself. He lets a breathy sigh pass his lips, and you know he has a fist around his cock.

Your fingers dip inside your opening, collecting your slick and rubbing it up and down, soaking your clit before they return to your cunt and slip inside. You gasp, the stretch too good to keep quiet.

Joel murmurs another Good fuckin’ girl, and you can hear his soft panting. It drives you insane.

“Joel,” you whisper, “want you here.”

“I know, darlin’, I know.”

“Want you to f-fuck me.” Your swollen clit ruts against the base of your palm, the bone rubbing it so fucking good, and you squeeze your eyes tight shut.

“Soon, baby, promise,” he tells you, his hand pumping his cock, the sound of his precum coating his shaft floating through your cell into your ear. “Keep goin’, pretty girl. Bein’ so dirty for me, so fuckin’ good.”

Your back begins to arch, his praises and the sound of him jacking himself off pushing you closer and closer, warmth and pleasure flooding through your body from your core.

Joel speaks again through a strained voice.

“Wanted to fuck you yesterday,” he says, “so fuckin’ bad, baby.”

Your breath halts, cutting short in your throat.

“Wanted to,” groan, “sh-show that fuckin’ kid who you belonged to.”

You breathe a laugh laced thick with arousal. “Who I b…belonged to?”

You’re enjoying the thought as much as he is. Joel fucking you senseless in front of anyone who looks twice at you. Showing them that only he can make you feel good, only he can make you cum the way you do. The thought causes a whimper to escape your throat.

“That’s it, baby. You like that?”

“Yeah,” you whine.

“Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”

“’m yours, Joel. Fuck. Fuckin’ – yours.”

You’re whispering his name over and over, adding a third finger, imagining it’s his cock fucking in and out of you.

“So – close – baby,” he’s grunting, and you sigh in agreement. You’re writhing around on your mattress, legs wide open, hands pumping in and out and rubbing circles all over your sensitive cunt, wishing it was Joel all over you.

He’s moaning now, quietly humming down the phone to you, and it starts to undo the knot in your stomach. Your walls clamp around your fingers, hand begins to slow on your clit, and you utter his name before you fall silent, throat closing up as you climax.

The sound of your orgasm sends him over the edge right behind you. He groans, your name on his lips as he climaxes, repeating it over and over. You’re still coming to when he quietens, moans staggered, breathing heavy.

“Good?” you ask, fingers massaging yourself after your high.

“So good, darlin’,” he whispers, “did so good for me.”

You smile at his praise. Did so good for him, like you always do. It sends your head spiraling.

You dip your soaked fingers in and out of your soft cunt, lying in the bliss a little while longer, listening to Joel do his jeans back up and fix his belt.

He must figure what you’re up to, because he lifts the phone back to his mouth and says, “Tell me how you taste, baby.”

You don’t even think twice. You slip your fingers from your dripping cunt and suckle on them, moaning into the phone for Joel’s benefit. He lets out a low growl.

“Sweet as sugar,” you tell him, and he hums.

“Hey, hon?” your dad’s voice snaps you back to reality.

You’re not on some different plain with Joel’s voice purring in your ear. You’re not in private. You’re laying on your bed with your legs spread, Joel on speakerphone.

Your legs slam closed and you sit up straight, shushing Joel, who’s chuckling quietly into your phone.

“Yep?” you reply, voice shaky. “Shut the fuck up,” you hiss down the line.

Your dad pushes your door open as you stand, straightening your dress.

“Ready to go? I don’t wanna be late for Joel.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“He will. C’mon.”

He closes the door over when he leaves. You tug your panties back on and bring the phone up to your ear, speakerphone now safely off.

“Do you? Mind?”

“’s long as I get to see your pretty little face, I don’t care, baby.”

You smile. Then you think it over.

“…but you’d prefer I was there on time, right? Y’know, so you can spend more time with me?”

“Uhuh. Sure. More time with your ass, too.”

“Alright. That’s nice. See, you just ruined what could’ve been a really sweet moment. How romantic, Miller. Once again, your dick gets the better of you.”

Joel laughs. “Ain’t that what this whole thing is? My dick getting the better of me?”

You gasp, offended. “And here I was thinking you liked me for my personality.”

He scoffs. “Will you just get in the damn car and get your ass over here?”

You’re fixing yourself once more in the mirror; there can be no signs of what just happened.

“I’m cominggg…” you drawl.

“Good girl. Bring that personality of yours, too.”

You snort and hang up without saying goodbye.

Your dad is stood at the bottom of the stairs as you march down them, legs still a little weak.

“Sorry, kiddo, I just don’t wanna be late. Joel’s wantin’ us there first, and Rita will be waitin’.”

Your brows furrow in response. He elaborates.

“She’s comin’, too, I’ve to give her a ride.”

“Sooo…we’ll arrive at Joel’s around midnight? Just checkin’, so I can let him know. Y’know, she likes to take it slow in the car.”

“Ha-ha. Funny. Get your things.”

“Can I take my own car? We can race, see who gets there first.”

Your dad sighs. “How am I s’posed to explain that to her?”

“Just say Sarah wanted me over early.” You cock your head like a begging puppy. “Please?”

He nods, exasperated, and waves a hand toward you. “Go on, get. Take that salad, will you?”

You sit the ceramic bowl on your hip and skip to the front door, belting it into the passenger seat before heading for Joel’s.

He’s out back when you arrive, platter of food in his hand. He looks casual, like he wasn’t cooing you through an orgasm, like, twenty minutes ago.

“Hey, cowboy,” you call from the patio door.

He sets the platter down on the tablecloth you picked out and strolls back toward the house, hands taking your waist as soon as he’s close enough.

“Your dad here?”

“Nope,” you whisper, “he’s bringing Rita.”

Joel dips his head and presses his lips to yours, rocking you back and forth. You giggle against his mouth.

“Dress is nice,” he murmurs when he pulls away, your foreheads together.

“Oh, you should see what I have on under it.”

“Already did,” he whispers in a cocky song, and you laugh again into his kiss.

His tongue sneaks past yours, and you squeal when his hand drops to squeeze your ass under your short skirt.

“You’re gonna make me drop this salad!” You bat his smirking ass off of you to set your dad’s handiwork safely on the table.

The moment is broken by the sound of Sarah’s voice from the hallway. You both split apart, Joel heads back outside while you walk over to the fridge to grab a soda.

“Welcome home banner’s slipped, Dad,” she yells out the window, and Joel gives her a thumbs up. Sarah rolls her eyes and turns to you. “Hi, you!”

“Hey,” you reply, giving her a toothy grin. “Soda?”

She reaches a hand out and you pass her a Coke.

“I have never seen my dad so stressed,” she snickers, can to her lips.

“Me either. You don’t wanna know how long he took to decide what to get from the deli.”

Sarah silently wanders through to the living room, beckoning you to follow. You glance up at the streamers still hanging from the ceiling, the slanted banner above the TV.

You throw yourselves down on the couch and she rounds on you.

“So…?”

“So?” you say, taking a sip of your soda.

“What’s been goin’ on? We haven’t properly caught up yet.”

You shrug. “Not much. Workin’ at Sal’s, loving life. What’s been going on with you?”

“Oh, come on. You really got no news for me?”

“What news do you want?” You snort, lifting the can to cover your flushed cheeks.

Sarah shrugs. “I dunno, boys? Gossip? Drama?”

“What are you, thirteen? Thought you were a big Cali girl now.”

She tuts.

You sigh, conceding. “No boys, no drama happenin’, and the most gossip I know is Anna called in sick last week and then Sal’s niece saw a picture of her on Instagram at some house party. ‘s all I got.”

Sarah looks unconvinced. She smirks. Her eyes thin, only for a second, but you catch it.

“How’s your dad?” she asks after a tense stare-off.

“Fine,” you reply. “He’s bringing Rita.”

“Aw. I’ll miss ‘im, then. Won’t be here ‘til sundown.”

You giggle into your can, “That’s what I said, dude.”

Joel shuffles into the room then, making for the banner. Your eyes track him as he leans over the TV, strong arms reaching up to fix it into place. He grunts as he pushes the pin back in.

“Need a hand, Dad?”

“Nope,” he replies, “’m good.”

Your chest tightens as the memory of the last time that banner was pinned into place floods your memory. Sat atop Joel’s shoulders, pulling him into you when he set you back down. Then, him fucking you on the couch, right where your legs currently lie, Sarah’s draped over them.

And here he is, able to reach it all by himself all along.

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling flushed.

“You good?” Sarah asks when you sit up straight, fanning yourself with your hand.

“Is it hot in here?”

Joel turns, eyebrows raising.

“Crack a window, Dad.” Sarah’s fanning you now, too, wafting a magazine in your face.

He moves for the window and slides it open, pulling the shades back in attempt to get some airflow.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, hand on Sarah’s wrist. “I’m fine.”

She lowers the magazine and stares you down. “Are you pregnant, or something?”

Joel chokes, clearing his throat over by the window, and you bat Sarah’s leg.

“No, idiot! It’s just hot. You’re not hot?”

Sarah flicks her hair over her shoulder, chin lifting. “I’m very hot, actually.” She stifles a laugh at your expression. When she leans over to set her soda on the table, you shoot Joel a look.

He raises his hands in surrender silently and heads out of the room, reminding you guys that the party starts in twenty minutes.

“You like your decorations?” you ask once Joel’s gone.

Sarah’s eyes widen and she nods. “I heard you had a thing or two to do with ‘em.”

“I was creative director.”

“He’s so cheesy, ain’t he?”

“He just loves you. I think it’s cute.”

“I’ll bet you two got into, like, six arguments while you were puttin’ them all up. Right?”

You blink rapidly, trying to clear the memory from your eyes in case she reads it. “Nope. None. No arguments.”

You’re thankful when Joel’s front door pushes open and you hear Rita calling down the hall for Sarah, who jumps up and skips to meet her. When you follow, Joel’s in the kitchen doorway, watching you carefully. You know he heard every damn word, from no arguments to you thinking he was being cute.

You ignore him as you brush past, smug smirk on his face.

The backyard slowly starts to fill with more and more people as the afternoon goes on, sun rising higher and higher into the sky. Sarah is swept off by a small wave of school friends, all nineteen, none of whom you really know. One of them asked if you were her sister, and you choked on your drink before Sarah snorted and said, “No, dumbass, she’s my dad’s best friend’s daughter.”

They’re standing like a flock of seagulls over by the pool, shrill giggles piercing the air every ten seconds. Taking selfies, updating Instagram stories. Oh, to be nineteen again.

Being a senior citizen of twenty-three means, unfortunately for you, that you spend most of the afternoon tailing your dad and his buddies. At the food table, slowly depleting of the snacks your dad had practically raided from Costco, you’re witness to a conversation between him and Bill about the housing market.

“…I mean, if she wanted to get a place of her own,” your dad waves a hand in your direction, “how’s she meant to do it? What are they doin’ to help the younger generations get their foot in the door, hm?”

Bill’s shaking his head. Looks like vexation, like he’s agreeing with your dad, but you’ve a sneaking suspicion he’s just pacifying him.

“Maybe you’re better headin’ back to New York, after all, hon,” your dad says, and you raise your eyebrows, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Missin’ it yet?” Bill asks.

You shrug. “Sometimes. Was nice being around people who were into the same stuff as me. But I like being home.”

He nods, looking back down at the pool, sunlight gleaming off the water in ripples.

“She’s got plenty to keep her occupied,” your dad snorts. “Me ‘n Joel keep her right.”

You bite back a laugh. If you only fucking knew.

Bill chortles. “Joel Miller, keepin’ someone right? Now that’s a sight I’d like to see.”

You look over to him, pretending to laugh along, but your brows drop in confusion.

“Ah, they’re close, y’know?” your dad says. “He looks out for her. Think he keeps her on the straight and narrow better ‘n I do, these days, doesn’t he?”

“He, uh…Yeah, sure.” You can barely look him in the eye.

“Tell you what,” Bill twists around to grab another fistful of nuts from the table, “there ain’t nothin’ the good Southern air won’t fix. I notice a difference in you, this time around, kid.”

“Yeah?”

He nods enthusiastically, cheeks full. Still chewing, he says, “Oh, yeah. Hell, you used to come home for Christmas or whatever, ‘n it was like you were bored. Miserable. No offense, don’t take that the wrong way.”

You scoff. “Which way should I take it?”

“Now that you’re back here for good,” he continues, not hearing you, “‘s like someone switched a light on. Doesn’t she seem brighter?”

Your dad turns to survey you and eventually nods. “You happier here, kiddo?”

You shrug, mumble an, “I dunno.”

The men laugh. Bill gives you a clap to the back and strolls off back inside, leaving you and your dad alone.

“Why didn’t you ask that– that boy along?”

“Who? Sam?”

He nods. “Remember you had that date scheduled– I mean, not-date?”

You narrow your eyes. “I don’t think this is his scene.”

“Garden party not macho enough?”

You shake your head in bewilderment. “Macho?”

“Who’s macho?” Joel’s gruff voice sounds from behind.

You swing around to tell him, “Nobody,” and he shrugs, cheeks full with the sandwich he’s just thrown in his mouth.

“Nice,” you muse. “Very garden party of you.”

“Right?”

You smirk, peeling back the wrapper of the cupcake on your plate.

“Those,” Joel leans in, smirk on his lips, voice low, “were made by Nat.” He nods over toward the patio doors, where a blonde woman in a long purple dress stands, chatting to another of Joel’s neighbors. “Remember I told you she was makin’ a cake?”

You turn back to face him, narrow eyes set on his. He smiles innocently, and you can’t help but return it, butterflies tickling your stomach.

“Damn good cake it is, too,” your dad mumbles from your side. “Try some, hon.”

You lift the cupcake to your mouth, never letting go of Joel’s gaze, and run your tongue along the pink icing, collecting it all on the tip. Joel doesn’t move. He’s watching your lips.

Your teeth sink into the soft cake – it is fucking good, though you’d never admit it to Joel. He’s having far too much fun watching you; any more inflation to his ego and he might explode.

“Hm,” you run your tongue over your top lip, “tastes alright. But it’s pink. Sarah’s too old for pink.”

You throw the cupcake back onto your plate and roll your eyes.

Joel scoffs. Entertained. Nice job, kid. “Here,” he says, “you got some icin’ on your–”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, licks his thumb and wipes it along the edge of your lip, collects the icing, then slots it back between his own, and sucks it clean.

Right in front of your fucking dad.

You’re honestly about to mutter a sincere thanks when you remember he’s standing right at your elbow, watching the whole thing. Watching his best friend run his wet thumb across his daughter’s mouth and then taste her on his tongue. Like it’s nothing.

Joel realizes halfway through what he’s doing and yanks his thumb out of his mouth a little too abruptly, nodding at you as if he’s just been courteous. He clears his throat when his arms are back by his side. “Uh…”

Your feet are heavy against the patio. You feel like your limbs are stuck in place, save for your hands, which cause the paper plate locked between your fingers to tremble.

“Th…Thanks.”

It’s all you can muster up the courage to say. You can feel your dad’s eyes on your shoulder like the sun burning your skin.

“Yeah. No problem.”

You stare between the two of them, unsure who’ll break first. Unsure if either of them will, or if you’ll have to cave and say something.

A swish of fabric against the back of your calves jolts life back into you and you hear a soft voice in your left ear.

“See you’re enjoyin’ the cupcakes, then?” she hums to Joel. Your stomach tightens.

“Uh, yeah, they’re, uh…real good, Nat. Thanks again. We were just sayin’ how good they are, weren’t we?” He holds a hand out, past you, to your dad, who nods along. You start to back away.

Joel can tease you all he wants about his next-door neighbor and her pink cupcakes, but you’ve truly never felt more grateful to have another woman approach him and take some of the heat off of you. In a blur of embarrassment and the tiniest sliver of thrill, you take off into the house.

Bill’s in the living room with a couple other men, watching something on TV. You flash by the door and straight upstairs, where it’s quiet, empty. You lock yourself in the bathroom, head immediately falling into your hands.

“Fuck,” you whisper into your palms.

Your pulse is racing, face flushed with color and heat, embarrassment seeping all over you. What the fuck was he thinking? Was he even thinking?

It’s not unlike Joel to do stupid stuff like this just to mess with you when you’re alone. But you know, from the look on his face, from how speechless he suddenly got, you know he didn’t mean it. You know that, right now, he’s probably outside, still being pestered by that lady Nat, feeling the exact same as you are on the inside.

You steady your breathing and crack the window, peering through the sliver of light. Your dad’s still by the snacks. You can hear Nat resuming conversation just below you, out of sight by the patio doors. Where is Joel?

You pull the window open a little more, and crane your neck to scope the entire yard. There, by the pool, Sarah’s friend is stuffing as many marshmallows into his mouth as he can, while the rest video him, hysterically laughing.

You notice a flash of flannel by the work shed and spot him; making his way down a stone path between some bushes. Rita’s on his arm. Good. Means he escaped your dad without much damage done.

You rinse your face over with splashes of cold water, check yourself in the mirror, and head back out. A roar sounds from the living room as you round the bottom of the stairs.

“I didn’t know bowling was so fuckin’ excitin’!” Bill yells.

You slip through the kitchen, drowned in golden sunlight, and back outside. Nat shifts to let you by her and you smile gratefully, her purple dress sweeping across your legs again.

You follow the path behind Joel’s shed, up some steps and dip your head beneath the greenery. It’s obvious what he’s been up to since you and Sarah left; he’s good with his hands. He’s landscaped most of his yard; starting behind the work shed is a small, private pathway which leads to a secluded patio, decorated with potted plants, shrubs, and two wooden chairs. It’s out of view from where the rest of the party are, but you can look down on pretty much everyone from here.

Rita and Joel are in conversation when you round the corner and his eyes lock onto yours.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greets you, so casual you almost forget what just happened. The man is so fucking cool, it almost riles you.

“Thought I saw you guys wander off.”

“Oh, honey, here, take my seat.”

“No, Rita, really. I’ll sit on the arm of Joel’s.”

You lean back onto the wooden arm, thighs dangerously close to Joel’s hands. He flinches as you settle, like he wanted to put a protective hand over your leg, and then remembered your company.

“Nice garden party, huh, Rita?” you chirp, eyes flashing across Joel’s face.

He shakes his head, knocking your leg with the back of his hand to tell you off.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. Fine day for it, too.” Rita looks up to the clear sky. “Only the best for our Sarah. I’m just keepin’ Mr. Grump company over here.”

“Mr. Grump?” you snort, looking from her to Joel.

He sighs. “I am not bein’ a grump.”

“Are too,” she replies flatly, and Joel turns to stare at her.

“It’s hard work hostin’ so many people, alright?”

Rita chuckles, giving his arm a light slap. “He’s all the way over here to escape the party,” she tells you, sweet smile on her face.

You return it, saying, “That doesn’t sound like Joel at all. He loves people, don’t you?”

Joel grumbles, taking a sip of his beer.

The three of you sit quietly for a few minutes, Rita relaxing in the warm summer air, shade from the trees keeping her cool. You, too close for comfort to Joel, breaking out in a sweat with the need to talk to him about the cupcake incident. And Joel, almost looking bored, right arm on his armrest drawing shapes at the small of your back.

You could fucking scream.

“Well, honey,” Rita eventually says, “since you’re here, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. You help me up?”

You carefully pull Rita to her feet, and she shakily wanders off back toward the rest of the party, waving a hand and telling you not to let Joel out of your sight. You take her seat in her absence.

“Arm not comfortable?” Joel asks, eyes on the party.

“Huh?”

“I said, arm not comfortable?”

“Not as comfortable as a whole chair.”

“Hm.”

You mock hum in response. “You want me back on the arm? You that needy, baby?”

He looks at you. His tongue in his cheek. “Nah, want you on my lap. But arm is less obvious.”

His words knock the wind out of you, but only for a few seconds. You’re getting good at not swooning at every sexual reference this man makes. You’re also getting shamelessly good at responding to him, matching his energy.

So, you stand, and, while checking nobody’s watching, shuffle over. Back to Joel, you lower yourself down onto his thigh. Swing your head around to look him in the eye.

“Better?”

In reply, he takes your waist in one hand and shifts you so you’re at a ninety-degree angle to him. His knees facing north, yours west.

“Better,” he confirms.

Your brows furrow. “What are you–”

“I thought it over. You ‘n that Zack boy.”

“Wouldn’t say he was a boy, was probably my age–”

“That Zack boy,” Joel repeats. “Him chattin’ to you, asking you about New York. Wantin’ to know if you’re single.”

How much of that conversation did Joel hear?

“He was just–”

“Makin’ conversation? Nah. He was into ya.”

“Well, if you say so. So, you thought it over?”

“Uhuh. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“About what?”

“About walkin’ up to find you bein’ chatted up by some loser.”

“Oh, ouch, Joel. Zack’s feelings are hurt.”

The corner of his mouth trembles, holding back a laugh. Then he leans in.

“I don’t like to see anyone with their eyes on my girl.”

His girl.

Something inside you stirs. Something between your legs…tenses.

“Your…”

“You think that was nice? The way he was lookin’ at you? You think he wanted to be your friend?”

You stare at him, mouth agape. No words bubble to the surface.

“Nah, baby. He wanted you the way I want you. The way I have you.”

“You…have…And how is it you have me?”

“Sat on my lap, pretty little mouth wide open, wet enough that I can feel you through my jeans.”

He leans back in his chair, and you watch him wordlessly.

Your breath stammering, brain struggling to compute, you mumble, “What are you gonna do with me, then?”

“Hm?” he tilts his head.

“I said, what are you gonna do? With me?”

“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot.

“S-sweeten…your…b…”

Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you.

“Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”

He takes the bottle and uses it to part your legs, before sliding it under your dress. You watch like you’re not even inside your body, just a passenger to Joel and his movements. All you know is you want him to do whatever the fuck he’s about to do.

The lip of the bottle pushes your panties aside, and you feel it line up at your lips. Joel looks up at you then with a question in his gaze.

You stare at him a few moments longer, and he lets you. He knows you’re taking this all in, even if it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He lets you take your time with your answer.

You nod, breathless. Do it. And he pushes up.

Your fingers immediately lock around his wrist, the beginnings of a moan escaping your lips. Joel tuts softly, wrist never stopping, just slowly inserting the bottle, neck gliding through your wet folds to your center.

You’re gasping, still holding onto him to steady yourself, coming back to earth only momentarily to check nobody’s nearby.

“Ain’t no one comin’, sweetheart,” Joel coos in your ear, “I’m watchin’. Just you enjoy.”

When the bottleneck fills you up, he pulls it back again. Your eyes begin to roll at the feeling of it dragging out of you. Your head cocks, body going limp. Lips seal shut, trapping a whine.

You rationalize it with three things. First off: nobody can see you here, not from down on the patio. Second: even if they could, Joel’s watching. And thirdly: you don’t give the slightest of fucks.

Joel and his ideas, Joel and his fucking ideas, forever pushing any other thought out of your head and replacing it with a want to please him, a need to do the things he asks of you. Forever washing away all your good instinct, leaving behind only the ache between your legs and the lust behind your eyes.

Joel starts fucking you – really fucking you – pumping the neck of his bottle in and out of your cunt. You’re doing everything not to scream out. Your hand grips tighter on his wrist and he smiles, looking down to the sight of the pair of you working together, fucking you together, chasing your high together.

“Liked it when I touched you, didn’t you,” he breathes, wrist jacking, “liked when I put my hand on you in front of everyone.”

“Did you like it?” you ask, head lulling, eyes folding shut. Legs opening wider just a fraction. Back beginning to arch.

He laughs. “Yeah, I liked it, baby.”

“Then I liked it, too.”

You like it when he talks to you. Like picturing the things he’s saying. The shock of Joel’s thumb on your lips. The desire you felt to part them and suck on it, right there and then.

Then, a twisted thought crosses your mind.

“Did you…did you like…oh…did you like N-Nat comin’ up…to you?” you whisper as Joel pushes the bottle deeper.

He growls, teeth locking together in some weird grimace of a smile. “Who’s jealous now, baby?”

You smile, head falling back. The sky is bright and blue and it burns your eyes to look, but then, your whole body is aflame.

You know he doesn’t care about anyone else. Know you’re the only one he wants to be doing this stuff with. But you’re there now, so might as well follow it through.

“You don’t– Fuck, Joel, fuck…You don’t think she’s…h-hot?”

He hums. Considers it. “Who’s sitting on my lap gettin’ fucked right now, pretty girl?”

“M-me,” you wobble, grinning.

“You,” he agrees, and pushes the bottle further.

You start to feel dizzy, the blood pumping through your ears deafening you. You place your hand on Joel’s knee to steady yourself as your legs give, cunt dripping everywhere. You can hear it, can feel it.

“Joel,” you pine, “’m close.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Joel’s purring, lips pressed against your ear. “You can cum, baby, I got you.”

Your hand comes up to grip the collar of his shirt – you’d worry about it looking suspicious, but your mind is somewhere else entirely as the pressure between your legs starts to unravel at rapid pace. It all becomes too much too quickly, and you can’t stifle the sounds from your lips any longer.

Your legs clamp shut, knuckles whiten, pussy throbs around the neck of Joel’s beer bottle. You cum for him for the second time today, quietly whimpering as his free hand rubs your hip, coaxing you back to earth.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes, “good girl. All over it, darlin’, that’s it.”

“Joel…” you’re panting, orgasm bearing down on your body.

He’s still lulling you through it, whispering words you can’t make out into your ear, lips pressed against your hair. He slowly slips the bottle from between your legs and sets it on the armrest, replacing his hand on your bare thigh.

It’s fucking covered in you. Your wet runs down into the beer, slick coating the outside of the neck. You can’t take your eyes off it, can’t fucking believe what’s just happened.

You take a deep breath of the sweet breeze, Joel’s arms around your waist, rubbing you gently. You lean down and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

A few minutes pass, couple songs on the stereo go by. Your hands toying with one of his, your breathing steadying against his chest. Joel mumbles into your hair.

“Your dad’s lookin’ for us.”

“How d’you know?” you mutter into his shirt, eyes closing over.

“That’s the third time he’s gone in ‘n out of the kitchen.”

“Maybe he’s just hungry.”

His chest jumps once with a laugh and he sits you both up. You stand wearily and Joel holds onto your hand as you slink back into the chair by his side. As you heave one leg over the other, core still throbbing, your dad emerges from around the shed. Joel lets your hand drop.

“Rita’s wantin’ home,” your dad murmurs, rolling his eyes.

“She ain’t much of a partier,” Joel says, lifting the beer to his lips. You stare at the lip of the bottle as his mouth kisses it, drink mixed with…well, you, spilling out onto his tongue. The neck is pearlescent with your cum. You feel lightheaded.

“You alright, honey?” your dad asks, and his hand comes down on your shoulder. Gently, but it still makes you jump.

“Y-yeah,” you reply, dragging your gaze from Joel’s lips. “Just…the sun, I think.”

Your dad looks worried, rubs the top of your back. “You need to go home?”

You shake your head, panting a little. “No, I’m good.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Joel says. The bottle’s between his thighs now, he’s twirling it. It’s like it’s a trophy to him. He props his elbow on his armrest and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

Your dad gives Joel an appreciative nod, then glares back at you. “You call me if you need me, alright? I’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

You muster up the energy to make some joke about going too fast in the car with Rita. Your dad chuckles, then nods again to Joel, and disappears around the corner.

“You okay?” Joel asks when he’s gone.

You return his glance, energy coming back. “Sweeten your beer? Where the fuck did you come up with that one?”

He’s grinning. Do you want to slap him, or mount him?

“Can’t let you in on all my secrets, can I, darlin’?”

You roll your head back, resting softly against the wooden chair.

“Alright. Just keep doin’ that.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Surprising me. See where it gets you.”

Joel laughs through his nose; you hear the quiet rumble of his chest.

“We better get,” he says, tapping your knee as he stands. “Before everyone goes home.”

“Thought that’s what you wanted?” you reply, taking his outstretched hand and pulling yourself up.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Joel mutters as you walk off in front of him, “did I say before everyone goes home? I meant to make everyone go home.”

Joel gets his wish soon enough. It’s almost four o’clock when you return to the party; Sarah and her friends are up in her room, Bill’s roped about three others in to join his new bowling watch party, and most of the guests are either gone, or getting ready to head. The garden is empty when you throw yourself back on a lounge chair, enjoying the quiet.

You feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, sun keeping you warm, breeze lightly kissing your cheek. The music from the stereo has been turned down, so you listen contently to the quiet hum of country, making a mental note to tease Joel about it later.

You’re filled with a peaceful content, a little tired from your ridiculous antics, but happy. You’re starting to understand what Bill was talking about; that bright cheeriness always makes an appearance when you’ve been around one person in particular, doesn’t it?

“Dad?” Sarah’s voice sings through the open door from the kitchen. She peers through the shades, spotting you by the pool. “You seen my dad?”

You shake your head. “Not a clue.” Lifting the bottom of your bottle to drain the last of your beer on your tongue, you haul yourself up – with a huge effort – to sit up straight.

“Will you tell him I’m goin’ out? We’re gonna catch a movie.”

“I’m not invited?”

She snorts. “You can come if you want. Thought you might still be feelin’ funny, is all.”

“I’m good. Enjoy. I’ll tell ‘im when he makes a reappearance.”

“Bye, babe!” she disappears back into the house.

You give her a wave as her silhouette heads down the hall. Joel’s back gate squeals open and your dad’s voice calls in from your left.

“That Rita can chat, huh?”

He latches the gate closed, then drags a deckchair over beside you.

“You were quicker than I thought you’d be.”

“She wanted to show me some cross-stitch thing she’s been workin’ on. Told her you weren’t feelin’ great ‘n I should probably head back.”

You furrow your brows. “Poor Rita, she means well.”

“I know, I know. Just, next time you see her, keep the story up.”

You scoff. “You seen Joel?”

Your question is answered by the grumble which sounds from the kitchen. He appears seconds later, stretches his arms high above his head, then stalks over.

You did try to avert your gaze from the trail of hair under his belly button. You swear. But it was right fucking there.

He hoists a second chair over to your right. “Too much effort,” he mutters, throwing himself into it. “I’m glad they’re all gone.”

You laugh lazily and rest back. “Sarah’s gone to the movies.”

Joel nods in response, the sun hitting off of him and lighting him like some kind of Adonis. You struggle to pull your eyes away from him, mesmerized by the way the light hits his worn skin, reflects out of his deep-set brown eyes, ignites strands of his graying hair.

You fucking hate what he does to you, the aftermath of him making you cum. As if there’s some drug running through your veins, making you want him, need him. Need his arms around you, his skin on yours. Need more of his attention, as if phone sex and whatever the fuck that was with the bottle weren’t enough for the day.

Your eyes travel down his strong, thick arms, hair covering them just the perfect amount, down to his hands; rough, worked, but gentle, kind. They grip the armrests of his chair, and you imagine the same grip around your neck as he…

“Y’know, actually, this was a lot less stress than I thought it’d be,” your dad yaps, bursting your bubble. “Why so last minute, Joel?”

“Sarah only decided she wanted somethin’ a few days ago, and she’s out of town next weekend, so had to be this week.”

“Oh? Me ‘n her both. Where’s she off to?”

Your head darts around to look at your dad. Then, when he speaks, back to Joel.

“Nashville. Just for a few days. Goin’ with some friends from school, I think. They’re flyin’ out on Friday, be back Monday night. Girls’ trip, I guess.”

You shoot back to your dad, like you’re watching a damn tennis match.

“Funny that. Don’t you have a girls’ night on Saturday, hon?”

Staring at him dumbfounded for a few seconds, you nod slowly. “Mhm.”

“I’m headin’ up to Fort Worth for work,” he tells Joel.

Joel looks at you from the corner of his eyes. You slowly draw your gaze to meet his, mouth falling open a little.

“Yeah? This that big fancy client of yours?” he asks your dad, shifting in his seat.

“Sure is. He’s askin’ too much of me, these days. All these late nights, now workin’ the weekends?” He lets out a little chuckle, shaking his head.

You tear your glance from your Adonis to the pool ahead of you. You finally find your voice, knowing that, with this final piece of information, the fate of your weekend is sealed.

“You there long?”

“Just Saturday through Sunday.”

Well, fuck.

You and Joel exchange a knowing glance, his eyes darkening already.

“I’m sure you’ll be alright without me for one night, hon,” the voice from your left chuckles, but you’re both already elsewhere.

You will be fine without him, of course you will. You’re twenty-three. You’re a grown-up.

And you’ve got Joel to keep you company.

----------

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[allaboutnayeli]

Could you do some ashley sanchez fluff please

craving your warmth | a.sanchez x reader

prompt: ashley just really loves your hands.

author notes: here is a fic for one of my fave white girlies 💗 i was supposed to have been wrote smt for this request but i get so sidetracked so mb gang. hopefully this is to your tastes tho!

contains: ncc!ashley sanchez x goalkeeper!reader, pure fluff like sickening type fluff, implied masc reader but nothing crazy

the sun is starting to come through the blinds as it rises. it's early, way too early for ashley to be awake but her body disagrees with her so here she is; awake on a saturday morning at six am. there is an upside to this annoying situation through. ashley can admire you sleeping so peacefully.

usually when you feel her eyes on you, it's not long until you get all shy and tell her to look away. most of the time instead of looking away, the blonde kisses you to distract but now with you in deep sleep, she can happily stare.

she shifts closer so that her hand can trace over your features. first, pushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over your face. she's close enough that she can smell your shampoo. the smell can't exactly be described but all ashley can call it is soft. very soft. then she moves on to your eyebrows then your eyes then your nose. finally her hand lands on your lips. again all ashley can describe them as is soft.

they're soft to touch and even softer to kiss. she really loves your lips. if someone asked her what is her favorite feature of yours it would have been your lips one hundred percent.

would have.

however, lately she's been falling in love with a different feature of yours. one that's not even on your face; your hands. it wasn't until recently that the blonde really started to pay attention to your hands. of course it wasn't like she just didn't notice them before, but she was too focused on your lips and gorgeous eyes and soft hair so yeah your hands weren't her main obsession.

your hands are slightly rough. mostly from wearing your goalkeeper gloves for hours each week and your workout regimen. they're bigger than ashley's as well. big enough that you can hold her wrists in one hand effortlessly. and with how warm your body is all the time, your hands are like her personal gloves.

ashley moves her hand down to where yours are on the pillow. you're resting your face against it, making your cheek squished in such a cute way it makes ashley smile. she starts to trace over your fingers. avoiding your face to not disturb you, but apparently that wasn't good enough as you start to shift and grumble in your sleep. probably due to how her light touches feel sorta ticklish.

"babe..?" you mumble out. your eyes are still closed, but you move your hand to hold onto hers.

"yeah?" the soccer player accepts your embrace easily. letting out a soft hum of content.

you don't reply to her for a few minutes. obviously slowly dozing right back off. you two didn't have anything planned for today. no practice or games or promotional shoots to get to, so today is a completely free day. a day just for you and ashley to laze around.

finally you speak, saying, "let's sleep in?"

the way your sleepy voice sounds almost makes ashley's heart burst. it's raspier then your voice usually is and a little whiny. a perfect mix.

"mhm, let's sleep in," she agrees. when she confirms what you already knew she would say yes to, you move to pull her close (well, closer) by her waist. your hand covering a good amount of the skin there. as you pull her into your arms, ashley feels grounded like how she always does when she's in your arms.

you pull her right into your chest. basically laying half of your body over her. ashley is definitely going to tease you about this later even though she enjoys the weight in reality.

the blonde whispers out a sleep well, feeling herself already getting sleepy. however you were already asleep again. way more tired than she was.

ashley absolutely hates being injured. it wasn't anything major, just a sprained ankle, but still she couldn't play or even train yet. all the blonde can do is sit on the sidelines at practice with a pout on her lips. one that you found really adorable, but at the same time made your heart break. knowing how badly ashley wanted to get out on the field.

the good thing about being essentially a bench warmer at practice was that she could check you out freely. if one of your other teammates pointed it out, ashley would just yell at them to focus on their exercises instead of what her eyes are looking at.

you obviously noticed how the blonde has been staring at you every single day she's been out and sitting in the empty stands at practice. maybe you have been going a little harder in training just to impress her. it wasn't like she didn't enjoy it. instead she awarded your efforts with that dazzling smile of hers and many, many kisses once you two got to the car.

she loved when you ran suicides. how good your calves and thighs look as you run could be plastered across a build board somewhere in ashley's opinion. when you save a goal and have that smug smile on your face afterwards will always do something to her. however, her favorite part of everything is after you save a goal and proceed to throw the ball back to whatever striker you were practicing with.

the way you always smile before doing that, the pure force you put behind the throw. ashley knows from personal experience strength is behind those hands and arms of yours.

she can't take her eyes off of you when you throw the ball back, she just can't. seeing the way your hand grips onto the ball reminds her of how you hold onto her. she's so focused on you that she doesn't realize that a soccer ball is flying at her.

"look around instead of checking out your girlfriend!" feli shouts, laughing loudly once ashley throws the ball back. obviously the german dodges it. sticking her tongue out after grabbing the ball and starting to move away to get back to practice.

the commotion is able to grab your attention. a teasing smile sits on your lips as you walk over to where ashley is sitting. she lets out a soft groan at seeing your approaching figure. already knowing what you are about to say.

"so you were checking me out, huh?"

most people wouldn't think that ashley's love language is physical touch. she seems like someone who would enjoy acts of services or affirmations, which she does, but not as much as she enjoys physical touch. in her last relationship, she didn't care for it much but that changed with you.

you didn't exactly push her into it but with how affectionate you are, naturally she started to crave it.

ashley's favorite type of affectionate lately is hand holding. no surprise to you with how fixated she is on that part of your body currently. you caught her on enough occasions looking at your hands to get an idea of how much she likes them.

right now, she's pulling you along as you two walk around in sephora. ashley is trying to convince you to let her do your makeup and you aren't as keen on that as she is.

"babe, everyone does it at least once. i seen it all over tiktok," she half reasons, half whines as you two stop infront of the lipsticks.

"that's cute, really, but babe.. i just don't think it's for me," you argue back. barely as you see how her eyes light up seeing the different shades of lipstick sitting on the shelves. okay, maybe you can try it just this once.

when ashley starts one of her rambles about how you would look adorable in makeup, you let go of her hand to look more closely at the different lipsticks. while you are busy looking at what shade you want, ashley slowly realizing she doesn't have the warmth of your hand on hers.

she blinks and realizes that wait, you aren't holding her hand.

"babeee," the blonde frowns at you. holding her hand out at you. a giggle leaves you as you turn to see her hand just out, waiting for yours. the urge in you to tease her is strong but instead you stand. interlocking your hand with hers.

"happy now?" you say playfully. pecking her forehead. the blonde accepts your affection happily, pulling you closer so that you two can look at the lipsticks together.

she picks up a pink lipstick before smiling at you, "ecstatic."

author notes: and finally i have a request done, yippie for me. this is really cute like im about to throw up but i love it 🩷

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

[hainethehero]

Steve Rogers Trauma: A TED TALK

Why is it that any kind of commentary/analysis on Steve Roger's trauma has to be met with comparisons to Bucky or Tony's trauma? Or most of the fanfics I read completely gloss over Steve's trauma?

Some of y'all legit do not care or are blind to Steve Roger's trauma throughout the Captain America & Avengers films and it shows. And this isn't hate to any fanfic writers but rather an observation of most stucky and stony fanfics which seem to minimize Steve's character & trauma in favour of highlighting their fave's. And of course it's fine that people want to write about Bucky or Tony or even Nat's trauma, but MOST TIMES* I've read these fics and they all have an intentional disregard for Steve's traumas.

And this speaks to the wider discourse around Tony, Bucky & Steve- the three characters most written about in mcu fanfics.

Because why is it that anytime I bring up Steve's PTSD or his illnesses or the hell he would've gone through pre-serum, people always HAVE to add in their 2cents about, "well yeah & Bucky went through worse." Like.???? No, I'm not talking about him.

I absolutely love Bucky and he's one of my favourite characters in both the comics and the MCU but, respectfully, this ain't about him.

I'm talking about Steve and his life. The crap he would've had to deal with both in public and at home. Especially the horrors both he and Sarah would've gone through because of Joseph Rogers who was a terrible person and an alcoholic who beat up on his wife and sickly kid.

And even post-serum when he's completely healthy and living in the future now, I'm still seeing popular narratives about "Yeah he's alive now & hasn't gone through half of what Bucky's endured over the past 70yrs." OR "He's had it easy compared to Bucky who was being tortured by HYDRA."

Um, no one's saying Bucky's treatment under HYDRA was a good thing??? But we're talking about Steve here, not Bucky?

And how he was literally frozen in a state of purgatory & how traumatic it would feel to be ripped out of it and then basically thrown to the new world on your ass without any kind of therapy or help. Most people make it seem like Steve was in a Sleeping Beauty kind of sleep and then woke up completely fine. And I will admit the MCU has been the main culprit of that narrative because they deleted so many scenes that humanized Steve Rogers, that now the gen pop thinks:

he's perfectly fine

has zero trauma

should complain about nothing

hasn't had it hard like Bucky or Tony

is a lesser hero because of all of the above

I recently had a convo with a friend & we were talking abt the scene in Avengers 1 when they were all at each other's throats. And they said that Tony was right about Steve being a laboratory experiment & everything special about him came out of a bottle. And I'm like... yeah nah, that's the lazy ass writing that Whedon perpetuated that now makes Steve one of the most misunderstood heroes & people in the MCU. Because he was special before the serum because of his consideration of others. He was special because not only did he hate bullies, but he also went out of his way to protect those that couldn't protect themselves KNOWING what that confrontation might cost him as a chronically sick person. Tony needed a whole ass arc about literally witnessing & living first hand what his weapons were doing to innocents like Yinsen & his people, to change his ways. Steve didn't have, nor did he need any of that to make him special. (AND BEFORE THE TONY STANS COME FOR ME, I LOVE TONY, HE'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVES IN THE MARVEL COMICS & MCU) But this hatred for Steve is ridiculous.

And once again, it's the MCUs fault because they made Tony the ultimate hero of the Avengers at the expense of Steve Rogers' character. Him being able to prove he was "worthy" all along by lifting Thor's hammer was a cheap payoff in the end, much like the entirety of Endgame was. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

[spockandawe]

Oh, this is interesting. To me. I'm not sure it's interesting to anyone else! But I'm on my computer for once and FULL of words again, and I'm delighted to talk to myself given half an excuse.

So, I made a post about Long Live Evil! Because I cracked open the book and was absolutely taken aback by how transparently it seemed to be an SVSSS reskin. I wrote up a goodreads thing (it's whatever, I'm going to rehash the main points here too), because I was also full of words and beans after finishing the book yesterday, and after polling online friends, I was surprised to see that the comparison didn't seem to have organically occurred to anyone else, when it was so naked to me. I know there’s a TON of transmigration and isekai stories out in the universe, and pointing at one single book was a big claim, so I just had to assemble all my thoughts! I find this so interesting! And I reblogged my initial one-off post with a little more elaboration about some of the things that jumped out at me, then got on with live and went back to chipping at ORV and GHG, and shotgunned MADK this afternoon.

This is a subtle nod and a wink to my passionate love for these kind of... morally grey main characters! Calling them villains might be a bit much, I don't think there are many true villain protagonists out there (LLE included), and even Devil Venerable has a demonic cultivator who's doing demonic shit and killing loads of people... but with the ultimate balance of the heavens and earth as his priority. This kind of story is my jam. I was recced this book on the basis of transmigration and sketchy protagonists being my thing. I can't rightfully call SVSSS the best cnovel I've ever read, but it is my favorite. And I've probably reread it more times than any other cnovel.

So, that SRB post, huh? I put Long Live Evil behind me, and honestly even following up on the sequel is mmmmmdoubtful, but THIS snagged my attention again. First, the comparisons she's calling out as incorrect are wild to me. Draco and Harry? What? Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian?? (I had to ponder that one for a hot minute, but I bet you anything it's about 'the golden cobra' and 'the last hope' and that's just silly, they're not wangxian, they're MOSHANG)

I was recced LLE in one friend group, but I had an anti-rec from my book club friend group. My book club friend hadn't been at all impressed by it! And she's cool, and I talk up svsss and mxtx to that crowd every so often, without really expecting them to read it. I talk about transmigration as a plot device that I love, and the things that can be done with it! But with that connection in mind between the books, as I started LLE, I was jokingly defending the honor of SVSSS to this crowd, so I admit I was primed to recognize similarities.

I really truly did not make it far in the book before locking it down. I was getting vibes basically from the moment Rae started gushing about her problematic fictional fave, I referenced 95% certainty shortly after she makes the jump to the fictional universe, the golden cobra was 98%, Lia Mingyan's, I mean Liu Mingyan's lack of sex scenes was 99%, and the first pov section for Marius-jun was where I gave up and called it as a sure thing.

It'll be very funny if I'm wrong! I don't think I'm wrong.

Plenty of spoilers to follow, because I identified this inspiration early, I guessed basically every plot twist early, I don't have the patience to dance around spoilers while explaining how it all lines up.

Now, I said this elsewhere, but it bears repeating: I don't think this is plagiarism. I think it's tasteless to accuse an author of stealing and repurposing characters to her face. But I think it's also tasteless to repurpose characters as nakedly as happened here! Again? If I'm wrong? That's why I'm talking to myself on my blog and not messaging her directly (?????? who even does that). What are the stakes for me being wrong here? I look like a clown online? That would be terrible, I've never done that before! It's not a crime to write in ways I find distasteful. It's not a crime to write a book I think is not good, even apart from the use of fictional influences. But I like talking about my feelings online, and I can't be stopped!

But there's two aspects of this that make me somewhat uncomfortable in a less fun way. Both are contingent on the big IF. If this is inspired by svsss, I think it's not a classy move to take a Chinese story in a Chinese setting, inspired by the modern Chinese literary scene and classical Chinese fantasy, and just dump the characters into a generic western setting. Fanfic? Have fun and try to be respectful. Profic, making money off it? Ehhhhh. The question of how much change is necessary is a tricky one! It's not one I'm equipped to answer, this is not my wheelhouse or my place to speak. But it doesn't make me feel good!

However, here's where I have more personal stake:

Again, if this is inspired by svsss. It really doesn't feel great to see a queer story (a smash hit in more than one country!) stripped down for parts and made into a heterosexual story. It's not all heterosexual, we get side lesbians, we get men with homoerotic tension. But the central ship is now a guy and a girl. And it... stings a little extra, because in the story of svsss, the idea of assumptions about default (hetero)sexuality are such a central theme. A queer man has written a trashy, oversexed stallion novel where the hottest guy in the universe collects the hottest women like pokemon, and it sells so much better than the more personal stories he tried to write. He has to write this pandering trash to make money to live, he can't live on the more authentic stories he tried to tell before. The protagonist is the projection of his own insecurities and self-hate, and the protagonist's right hand man is his projection of his own ideal man. Another man transmigrates into the book, assuming that he himself is straight, assuming the protagonist is straight, and the force of their love changes the course of the entire narrative. In retrospect, it's upsetting to see those load-bearing themes casually carved out of the story and the hollowed-out remains used like this.

Anyways, in their place, now we've got running gags about how the heroine's tits are BIGHUGE now and she can't keep her balance because her GIANT HONKERS keep tipping her over.

I'm a little more bothered than I was yesterday! On the other hand, since I saw SRB's post, I've been chewing on that central ship. Full disclosure, it was one of my favorite aspects of the novel! My other favorite aspect is the dynamic between the golden cobra and the last hope (the moshang, which I think some people misdiagnosed as wangxian).

I know that the central ship here is the thing that's LEAST comparable to svsss, and the biggest roadblock in the way of my theory. On the other hand, I think it was the thing that HAD to change if this story was going to repurpose svsss without getting called out for being a classic 'bro can i copy your homework' adventure.

For this section, let's assume that I'm right and let's roleplay an author trying to figure out how to change Bingqiu into something not-obviously-Bingqiu. How do we need to differentiate Rae and Key from Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe.

First, we eliminate the martial sect thing. Easy peasy! That's a wuxia concept, and this book goes full nondescript western fantasy. She's not his teacher, he's not her student. And if she's not his teacher and he's not her student, why does this woman have power over this man, to build up the resentment that inspires him to turn the tables on her later? Well, in nondescript western fantasy, she's a noblewoman of some kind, and he's a servant of some kind. Noble lady treats servant like garbage, servant resents her. Doing great.

And to loop back around to the beginning of this a little, I think it really is key to this reskinning that Rae is a SHE. If the central ship remained queer, it would be so, so hard to pull away from the most identifiable thematic aspects of svsss. And pieces of what remain are... kind of bizarre for a normie heterosexual ship where our protagonist is aware that she's transmigrated into an impossibly desirable sexpot character!

Shen Qingqiu never considers that Luo Binghe might be interested in him because Luo Binghe is about to have a HAREM of beautiful women, he's the most heterosexual man of all time, and Shen Qingqiu is straight too! Besides, Shen Qingqiu is his teacher! He half-raised Luo Binghe! Even if Luo Binghe was bent, he wouldn't be interested in an old man like Shen Qingqiu!

Rae is 20, occupying a 24-year-old body. Her character's sexiness is relentlessly remarked upon from start to finish. Key is 18. Why is Rae so sure that he looks up to her as... a mentor, as an older woman? He almost goes down on her! He makes out with her! And she's like 'ah yes, it means nothing. lol. so funny how these things happen.' Bruh, at least after Luo Binghe kissed Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu finally got hit with the clue stick. Binghe didn't try to blow him only for Shen Qingqiu to keep noodling on about how Binghe definitely isn't into him in any sense, even the most oblivious man in the universe managed to catch on.

Why doesn’t Rae think there’s any chance of genuine attraction here? Yeah, I get that she's coming back from terminal cancer. She's doing great. She knows that the fictional character she occupies is one of the most desirable ladies in the land. He’s a teenager. He’s not expressing disinterest. A lack of horny for sexy lady ought to be more surprising for her. But I guess she’s slightly older than him and that small age gap has been magnified by the transmigration, so she conceptualizes herself only as his teacher, I mean mentor.

I’m not even mad at this dynamic. I love their chemistry, the ‘boss’ thing is cute, but lordt, I have to wonder if it’s meant to substitute for ‘shizun.’ But you know where this comparison really falls apart? Key isn’t really THAT much Luo Binghe.

At least, he isn’t in terms of personality. I mean, we’ve got the mysterious magical heritage, the healing factor, the unbeatable fighting skills, being beaten repeatedly because of the protagonist (tbh it’s sexier when she’s responsible, rather than just being a bystander), being yeeted into the abyss, I mean the ravine, to rise again and assume power as the merciless ruler of all the land. Oh, and he comes back from the dead still bearing the scar that represents her betrayal. In the original novel, he turned on her the moment he got his opening and was responsible for coming up with her gruesome torment.

(Also, Shen Qingqiu being terminally ill isn’t canon, but it’s very popular fanon, and it’s hard to ignore that with how hard the narrative lingers over Rae’s terminal illness as her gateway into this fictional world)

But! But the things that are different! Luo Binghe is a smart and sweet teenager, who had a rough start on the streets and has a tragically deceased single adoptive parent, but that’s their only backstory parallel, he doesn’t blacken until he’s thrown into the abyss. Not like Key, Key is a murder-happy sociopath, a former street kid who fought the odds and made good, and who’s a lot sharper and cleverer than the upper classes think someone like him should be. He utterly destroyed a righteous cultivator clan, I mean glassblowing guild, for the sake of revenge. Once our heroine scores a number of trust points with him, we unlock secret backstory about how as a small child, he experienced deeply formative hand trauma.

He’s Xue Yang.

It took me a moment to process the wangxian allegations SRB mentions in her post, because I was trying to figure out how someone would be aware of wangxian, and read that backstory, and somehow miss it. But it’s fine, I’m pretty sure they were actually talking about the golden cobra and the last hope! So LET’S TALK MOSHANG.

It was so funny. I was liveblogging the book to friends, because honestly, I do not jive with the buffy-esque joss whedon relentless quip-quip-quip writing style. I was struggling to stay engaged when the narrative never took a moment to breathe. And I perked up at the introduction of this new character! He seemed kind of fun, kind of meta, Key came over to share Secret Info with him, and I messaged the friend who recced this to me (also an svsss appreciator) ‘lol, what if he’s shang qinghua. just straight from svsss shang qinghua.'

Reader, a second transmigrator has hit the narrative.

Now, in some ways, he’s a disappointment to me. He’s not nearly as interesting as Shang Qinghua. Adding the author to their own narrative is way more fascinating to me than just dropping a rando into the story. But I’ll take what I can get, I think multiple transmigrators are almost always a fun decision. And for the queer reasons I mentioned above, I think Shang Qinghua ties into the themes of his novel a lot more strongly than Eric does here. I don’t want to call him ‘the golden cobra’ every time, I get more self-conscious every time I write it. And honestly, the reveal of Eric’s full Eric Whatever name feels a little awkward and… pointed compared to the sheer opacity of Shang Qinghua’s existence. Never mind what his name was in the real world, we don’t even know his name before he was a Peak Lord. I’m not upset we got a name or anything, it would make certain fannish activities a lot easier if Shang Qinghua had additional canon names, but it was an interesting detail in light of how parallel the characters are.

Okay! He’s not the author! He’s still a super-fan. He transmigrated into the book years before the LLE main character, and has settled in pretty well. According to canon as Rae knows it, he’s fated to be killed by his own favorite character. He’s fast-thinking and fast-talking, and scattered and all over the place, but dangerous when cornered and more competent than he looks. He deals in information and manages a network of spies. He’s a creative! He and the main character banter relentlessly and get along like a house on fire. He and the king’s trusted ice-cold right hand man share a weird codependent dynamic that’s part hostile, part homoerotic.

Marius has complicated feelings about not-shang-qinghua. Eric is a coward, he’d rather talk fast and lie than stand up for anything, he cowers and cringes and isn’t honorable. He and Mobei-jun also shared a deeply formative experience in their youth, where as a teenager in distress, Eric/Shang Qinghua appeared before them and announced their devotion. In Shang Qinghua’s case, it was offering to serve him (and saving him from huan hua injuries), and in Eric’s case, it was declaring him to be his favorite character (and saving him from sad teenaged isolation), but man. And in the end, after a long, fraught relationship, Marius/Mobei-jun is furious and strangely distraught when Eric/Shang Qinghua abandons him.

Guys, it’s not wangxian.

I think it hits less hard when Marius’s themes of family violence aren’t allowed to sit directly in the narrative, and when it seems like some vague berserker rage thing rather than Linguang-jun just bluntly wanting to murder him for practical reasons, but hey! This was still, genuinely, one of my favorite parts of the story. I wanted more more more of them, I would read this moshang au any day.

After that, the parallels get a little more nebulous! The comparisons between the abyss and the ravine are pretty obvious. I’m not sure why we decided to build our city and palace right on top of the pit of people-eating ghouls rather than literally anywhere else, but it means we don’t need to take a special field trip to Jue Di Gorge, which means we can do the bait and switch where it turns out Key was a heavenly demon all along. The temperamental King Octavian, the young master of the palace, one might even say the xiao gongzhu if they were feeling spicy, jealously tries to romantically monopolize half our main ship and has the other half flogged with a magic whip.

I already mentioned that Rae brings up that Liu Mingyan — wait, I said I’d change some answers so it wasn’t obvious I copied — Lia doesn’t get a sex scene in the books even though loads of other people did, just like Shen Qingqiu praises Liu Mingyan for her untouchable image in such an oversexed, gratuitous book. I don’t think it would be right to call Liu Mingyan a white lotus heroine in either SVSSS or PIDW, but her archetype is in that wheelhouse, and Lia is just a white lotus rival played straight (and played deliberately, another touch I liked). We don’t have made up animals like black moon rhinoceros pythons in LLE, but we do have leucrotas, which are like a lion and a hyena and serve no narrative purpose.

Oh, you know what else I forgot to mention? Rae gives Key one of her red ruby earrings, and he refuses to sell it, and stubbornly holds onto it until the bitter end. Is this Xue Yang holding onto the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen gave him, or is it Hua Cheng determinedly keeping Xie Lian’s red coral earring with him even through his own death? Por que no los dos?

There are things that are original in here. I know that this presentation undersells how much of the book is original. The trouble is, almost everything I thought was good is something that either was lifted from another person’s creative endeavors, or is being tainted by association with all the other naked lifts. Some of the noble ladies have an archery contest! That’s pretty new and fresh, huh? We didn’t have any archery contests in SVSSS!

Yeah, but we sure did in MDZS. And MDZS is already in play, because we’ve already got one character who’s just copy and paste Xue Yang.

There’s a thermocline of trust in this book that fell off for me sharply, and it turned a lot of this into a guessing game of ‘wait NOW what the refrance? owo'

I’m probably on a hair trigger by now, but I’ve also probably missed some things. And I’m sure this is a synthesis of multiple influences, because most stories are. But this feels like cooking and trying to season your dish with a little salt and then the container lid just falls off.

Emer isn’t a clear parallel to an existing character! Love that for her! Love a lady with an axe, especially if she gets a nice girlfriend! On the other hand, in terms of backstory? Wow, she’s been raised with our protagonist since early childhood, as not-quite-foster-siblings, but she was always the clear unfavorite and harbors a lot of resentment over that. Oh, and once Rae entered the story, Rae started trying to speedrun an enemies to 'hello hiiii we should bestiessss' arc with her. I think she had to have an axe, because a whip or a sword would make the Jiang Cheng and/or Liu Qingge vibes a little uncomfortably strong. She doesn’t follow their character arcs! But the disappointing thing is that it felt like she was just there to facilitate pasting the frankenstein patchwork of the narrative together rather than having an arc of her own.

(why did Marius stop to give her a sword lesson? Why did she immediately sneak onto the roof to eavesdrop on the king?? It’s hard to give her credit for being an original character when none of her original actions make sense in the greater universe)

Oh, I almost forgot, we’ve even got magic plot macguffin plants. While Binghe is in the abyss, Shen Qingqiu needs to get the Sun And Moon Dew Flower Seed so he can build an escape hatch for himself before Binghe wrecks his shit. Rae, on the other hand, needs to secure the Flower of Life and Death by an arbitrary deadline as an escape hatch so she can go back to her original life rather than being trapped here forever. Very different! There’s even little side tangents about how these plants can be so beneficial to others, Zhuzhi-lang is desperately trying to secure a seed to build a new body for Tianlang-jun (which Shen Qingqiu enables him to do, despite not knowing what he wants it for), and Rae thinks about how the flower could “save someone on the very doorstep of death,” and gives it away for that exact purpose. So different!

I need to cut myself off, otherwise I’ll keep going. Truly, there is original content in here. It was just all the stuff I didn’t like. The character quipping was. God. There sure was a lot of it! By sheer volume, that’s a lot of original content. Some of the extended cast was interesting, I enjoyed the Horrors and their brothers, I liked Valencia. Now, I didn’t like how basically every girl ADULT WOMAN in this cast was in shitty teen mean girl mode. I didn’t like how immature every character interaction period was. I lost track of how many times Rae was going around in sexy clothes and rando servants were like “HARLOT,” out loud about a favored noblewoman, you know, as you do. Especially when her bodyguard is pulling against his choke chain just waiting for an excuse to do a murder. I don’t need Rae to be the picture of flawless maturity. But nobody is mature, full stop, not even the set dressing servants.

For a less loaded example, the cumplane friendship dynamic is here, practically intact. Shen Qingqiu can't snipe about authorial choices, because Eric isn't the author, so instead Rae and Eric squabble about favorite scenes and favorite ships and such. But it isn't nearly as charming when we don't see these two characters dropping their dignified Peak Lord cultivator roleplay to talk shit with each other. Rae and Eric never have a filter once in this book. They are always Like This, it isn't a secret face that gets unlocked when they're bouncing off each other, they are never circumspect, never have a filter, never have any idea they shouldn't be speaking their full thoughts at full volume 24/7. Even after this starts to have material consequences when they're inevitably overheard! It's an immersion-breaking level of immaturity, which is terribly frustrating when the original dynamic that I loved is only changed in such minor ways.

And another thing that actually tastes way more sour than it did on first reading – Valencia is probably the least mean girl of all the women in the cast. She’s delightful. Too bad that in every scene but her last one, Rae, who repeatedly references her own experiences having her body and appearance ravaged by cancer, cannot for love or money stop talking about how uggo Valencia is.

I know this is an adult novel. The characters are, by age, adults. There’s almost an oral scene. God, I wish we’d gotten the oral scene. But by every other metric, the characters are all high schoolers and I’m an exhausted adult muttering to myself ‘they’ll grow out of it, please GOD let them grow out of it.’

Again, none of this is a crime! Nobody forced me to finish the book! And I did enjoy the book. Parts of it! But that very distinct partial enjoyment experience almost forced me to dissect my own emotional response. And truly, other than a few flashes like Valencia, almost everything I enjoyed about the book was something I could trace directly back to one author, and mostly to one book by that one author. I… enjoyed half of the book. And if I can track most of that half back to mxtx and svsss, I really think that says something about how much wasn’t done to make the inspiration behind this book the author’s own.

It's disappointing! I read this book because I like svsss, I read it because I want more books like svsss, I read it because I trawl the novelupdates tags looking for more books that will hit me the way svsss did. It doesn’t taste good to be served reheated svsss with expired buffy sauce drizzled on top. It tastes even less good once I have a minute to think about what turning an m/m meditation on sexuality and self-image and assumptions about others into a m/f snooze does to the themes I loved so much. It stings to see an author rehash a book that was/is so important to me, and see what they kept and what they threw out, and be like ‘oh, so… these were the elements that mattered to you?’

Again, I hate to be redundant with this, but. I think calling this book plagiarism would be overdoing it. I think it’s tasteless. I don’t think being tasteless is a crime. It remains wild to me that she’s getting messages calling out her supposed inspiration, even if I’m simultaneously criticizing the judgment of the people making those specific comparisons. And I ABSOLUTELY understand why she’s reluctant to own up to the specific inspirations behind this book, because good lord. If it was me, I’d be professionally embarrassed too.

It’s not my job to be the book quality police, but I think someone as experienced as this should be able to do a better job of synthesizing inspirations into something original. I dropped ‘can’t afford to offend my scheming disciple’ earlier this year, because that narrative couldn’t shake the taste of stale svsss fanfic, and it was much more subtle than this is. Once again, if I’m wrong, this post will be retroactively VERY funny and I’ll be all ears to see what her inspirations actually were. I don’t think I’m wrong.

[moremaybank]

UR BEST FRIEND — s.c

pairing sarah cameron x fem!reader

summary sarah's dating john b, but also happens to be in love with you; john b's best friend. (based on the song "ur best friend" by kiana ledé feat. kehlani)

warnings oral sex (fem. receiving), fingering, choking, spitting, scissoring, language, cheating (sarah on john b — oops), kinda toxic and a lil angsty with a fluffy ending

author's note the "ur" is intentional! song linked here ♡︎ please listen to it, it's one of my faves of all time and you def won't regret it

sarah masterlist

we ain’t felt like us in a minute

whole damn time i knew i shouldn’t have did it

might’ve got too excited, i’ll admit it

almost called your name when he was in it

Sarah finds that she can’t cum unless she pictures that it’s you who’s making her do so. It’s not like the sex with John B is bad. It isn’t. It’s a shame what she’s doing to him, convincing him that she’s head over heels and insatiable when it comes to the love and touches he provides her with as if she doesn’t feel those very things for his best friend. But she can’t bear to hurt him. She cares about him deeply, and there is a connection there. 

Still, ever since you came around and intertwined your life with hers deeper than she’s ever imagined, she’s been missing that spark with her boyfriend. The spark that makes her knees weak and makes her stomach do flips. The spark that ignites a flutter in her core, that makes her soak through her panties in anticipation of the pleasure that will soon fill every molecule of her being. 

The spark that only lights because of you.

She opens her eyes, and she’s almost disappointed when her eyes land on John B’s and not yours. Your soft skin isn’t pressing against hers. Your kiss-swollen lips aren’t the ones melting into her own like silk. The moans of ecstasy aren’t emitting from your sweet mouth. 

All Sarah wants is you, and she has you. But not right now, and not in the way she truly longs for.

ooh, it’s wrong, but you make me feel right

textin’ your phone while right beside him

wish it was anyone besides him

It’s date night for Sarah and John B, the two of them on the couch in the chateau as they watch a movie. 

Sarah scrolls mindlessly through her phone, her feet propped on John B’s lap while he dozes off. The main characters in the movie are slowly becoming intimate, their kisses growing deeper and sloppier as they begin to remove each other’s clothing and profess their love in a toe-curling fashion. 

Sarah’s thighs squeeze together as she tries to quell the ache but also provide a small sense of friction to her throbbing clit. She’s crazy. John B’s right there. She could take care of things right now, and find her release with the help of her boyfriend. But she isn’t thinking about him.

She’s thinking about you.

She whips out her phone once more, opening her messages and clicking on your shared chat.

i miss you :(( please tell me you get off work soon

Her eyes flit up to the top left corner of her screen, noticing that the time is now nine o’clock on the dot. Once her eyes return to your messages, she sees that you’re typing. Anticipation and excitement roll through her as she awaits your response. 

just finished baby. meet me at mine in a half hour?

Sarah grins as she types out her response.

you can bet on it <3

i was with my man last night

and i just realized what i felt that night wasn’t wrong

thought about you in the whole car ride, like

i hate that you ain’t your best friend (x2)

“God, I missed you,” you mumble against Sarah’s wet lips. 

The minute she stepped inside your house, you pulled her in for a kiss and wouldn’t dare let her go until you got a little fill of what you’d been waiting all day for. Then, before you both knew it, you were piled into your shower with your naked bodies pressed together as one.

Your lips trail down her neck as your hands move to massage her breasts. You pinch her nipples and she sighs as she leans against the wall. Her back arches and she pushes herself further into your hold. 

“I missed you more. Haven’t even gotten off properly since the last time I was with you.”

“Yeah?” You ask, leaving more open-mouthed kisses on her skin while you slowly sink to your knees. “I can fix that for you if you’d like.”

She nods, her eyes screwing shut when she feels your thumb swipe over her clit ever so lightly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You grin, “So pretty when you beg for me, baby.”

Your hand hooks under the back of her knee and you pull her leg over your shoulder, opening her core up to you. Your hands then move to cup her ass, and you force her cunt onto your tongue. Her hips buck when your tongue graces through her folds, licking and sucking at anywhere you can reach. You flick stripes onto her, taking your time and teasing her as you ghost around her most sensitive bud. You can taste her arousal as it seeps out of her more and more, and you savour it as if you’ll never get another chance to do so. 

“You taste so good,” you murmur. You slip a finger into her slowly, pulling back to watch her face contort in pleasure. “You’re so tight too. Barely giving my finger a chance to move, baby.”  

Returning your mouth to her, you trace the outline of her clit and feel her buck her hips into you when you start to suck on it. You pull away to speak as you add another finger. They hook up into her g-spot, curling and probing it as your eyes lock with hers.

“That’s it. Ride my face. Use me just how you like,” you encourage, sticking your tongue back out for her use. Her hands slip into your hair as she obeys you, holding your head in place and riding your tongue with need.

Her moans grow louder, and you shake your head back and forth when her motions falter, helping her reach her high. Your face is practically buried in her when you flick her clit just right and press the special spot inside her simultaneously, causing her to fall apart. She releases your head, twisting and pulling at her nipples as she rides out her orgasm. She shivers, nearly losing her balance if it weren’t for your hold on her. 

“I love watching you cum,” you speak, slowly slipping your cum-coated fingers out of her hole and rising back onto your feet. Your other hand grabs her face as you push your fingers into her mouth, letting her taste herself. “You look so pretty, like an angel.”

hey, he had the courage to step up ‘n pull up

six speed like

puttin’ so much work, just to make it work

and he’s almost perfect, and that’s why it hurts

and he calls me family, that’s what make it worse

You’d harboured feelings for Sarah long before she was even on John B’s radar. Truthfully, you didn’t think she would ever be into you, and so you never made a move. But the guilt bubbled inside you so powerfully whenever you saw the two of them together. It also didn’t help that he’d come to you for everything, especially when he was in dire need of help. You suffered through hearing about their first date, the first time they slept together, and everything in between. 

You envied him. If only you’d had the courage the way he did, maybe you’d be in his position. Getting to call Sarah yours in public. Kissing the life out of her whenever you saw her, no matter who was around or watching. Being the only one who got to touch her and make her cum in the heavenly way she did so. 

It isn’t fair. Lusting and pining after your best friend’s girlfriend. John B’s always been there for you, without fail, and he’s one of the most important people in your life. But you can’t help your feelings, they’re uncontrollable. And though you wanted Sarah first, you couldn’t just turn off what you felt for her in the blink of an eye.

“You good?” Kie asks as you watch John B pull Sarah into his hold, seeing the two of them giggle and beam at each other. 

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Why?”

“Maybe because you’re giving John B and Sarah the death stare.”

Your head snaps away, your eyes finding Kie’s immediately as you try to play it off.

“Nah, it’s not…it’s not like that. I just zoned out. I got a lot going on.”

“Whatever you say,” she hums, taking a swig of her beer.

Your eyes move back onto the couple for a few seconds, and Sarah happens to catch your eye. She gives you a saddened look, mouthing an I’m sorry to you form across the way. You nod in response, giving her a half-hearted smile before getting up to get another drink. 

There was no way you could stomach the sight of them sober.

it’s wrong but i make you feel right

you textin’ my phone while right beside him

wish it was anyone besides him

“Oh my god, yes!” Sarah exclaims. “Please don’t stop. Please.”

You continue rolling your hips, rutting your clit against Sarah’s as you ride her pussy. You’re clutching onto her left leg, adorning the skin of her calf and knee with kisses. Her pleas rile you up further, and your left hand grabs her by the throat. 

“Open wide for me,” you command with a stern voice, squeezing your hand slightly. 

Sarah listens, always one to follow your orders. Her tongue sticks out as she stretches her mouth open for you. You lean down, spitting into it and letting your grip on her tighten as you ride her harder. 

“Now swallow.”

Sarah does as you say, showing you the proof when her mouth opens up to you again.

“Such a good slut for me, hm? You’d let me do anything I wanted, wouldn’t you?” Your fingers stuff into her mouth, nearly gagging her as you begin to swivel your hips in a circle and throw your head back as the pit in your core tightens. It starts to build, tighter and tighter as you’re on the brink of your release. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

You retract your fingers from her mouth and they find purchase in her hair as you pull her head up to your chest. Sarah sticks out her tongue, slithering it against one of your nipples as her eyes lock on yours. Her hot breath against your flesh makes you shiver as it breezes over your wet bud. You cry out when you cum with Sarah right behind you as her head falls back against her pillow. 

“Yes, fuck!” 

You nearly collapse on top of her, your lips finding hers and capturing them in a greedy kiss. You lick into her mouth, tasting her as your chest heaves. When you pull away, her eyes are dancing with mischief.

“Wanna go again?” 

Before you can respond, her phone dings, notifying you both that someone has texted her. The hand she has on your hip squeezes it in comfort as she reaches over and grabs it. Her smile fades, and your brow raises.

“Who is it?”

She gulps, “It’s John B. He…He needs me. Something went down between him and JJ.”

“Right, yeah,” you say, climbing off of her slowly. “I’ll just go then.”

“Y/N,” she speaks, her voice in a pleading tone. “You know that’s not what I want. But he’s my boyfriend. I’m supposed to be there for him.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t need you to remind me that you aren’t mine.” The bitterness seeps from your voice as you get dressed. “I’m just getting tired of being your secret.”

“Y/N, please. I’ll tell him. You just gotta give me time.”

“I have given you time! It’s been months, Sarah. And I know it isn’t easy for you, but, fuck, it’s not easy for me either. He’s my best friend.” Your movements come to a stop, and you find her eyes. “Maybe…maybe we should just end this. We both know that you won’t walk away from him, and I’m not gonna stick around and get hurt by you even more than I already have.”

Pain flashes across Sarah’s face and she gets out of bed. Her hands find your face when she reaches you, urging you to look at her again. 

“Don’t. Don’t leave me.” 

She pulls you in for a kiss, soft and head-spinning as her lips brush against yours. You try to resist, but you can’t help it. You melt into her and grant her access when her tongue swipes against your bottom lip.

You’re stuck. You’re in deep. Too deep.

you was with your man last night

and you just realized what you felt that night wasn’t wrong

thought me on your whole car ride, like

i hate that you ain’t your best friend (x2)

The drive home from Sarah’s is a mopey one. Void by The Neighbourhood buzzes through the speakers of your car, contributing to your sulking. Part of you wonders if she feels the same way you do. Far past hurt because you can’t be together. Envious when she sees someone else’s hands on you at a party, like she wants to rip them away from you and pull you into her own arms instead. Dying to kiss you when she catches your eye in public. 

Part of you thinks that she’s just into you for the sex. That the reason she won’t leave John B is because she’s getting the best of both worlds. A relationship with someone who dotes on you without ever wavering, and great, passionate sex with someone she considers to be her current fixation.

But you can’t be more wrong.

Meanwhile, on Sarah’s ride over to John B’s, all she can think about is ending things with him. It’s horrible timing, but the longer she waits, the worse it becomes. She’s hurting badly. She wants to be with you. More than she’s ever wanted anything in her life. The way she loves you is tearing her up inside because she’ll never be able to truly bare her soul to you if she’s still in her relationship.

Another thing weighing on her mind is how close she came to losing you today. Hearing how wounded you were by the fact that she didn’t really and truly belong to you, that you’re constantly forced to watch the girl you love with your best friend. She’s always so wrapped up in her guilt toward John B that she failed to notice that the guilt and pain were taking its toll on you too.

So she has to buck up. If she doesn’t, then she’ll lose you for good.

i always knew from the beginning

the whole damn time, it’s you that i was feelin’ 

seems like things are better when forbidden 

and that’s why i hate that

i hate that you ain’t your best friend

The next day, you’re still in a grumpy mood. You showered last night upon coming home, and you’ve been glued to your bed ever since. You roll your eyes as Jenny from Gossip Girl whines to her father Rufus about quitting school, and suddenly, you hear a knock on your front door. You let out a groan, dramatically rolling out of bed and making your way down to tell whoever’s choosing to bother you right now to fuck off. But when you open the door, you come face to face with the girl you love.

There she is, standing in the pouring rain, her clothes wholly drenched and her hair sticking to the sides of her face. 

“Sarah? Come inside, you’re going to get pneumonia,” you say. Your fingers circle her wrist and you tug her into your warm home. Your hands rub her arms up and down as you try to warm her up. You can practically hear her teeth chattering as her cold body trembles. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I needed to talk to you,” she murmurs.

“And you couldn’t have called me? The roads are crazy, and this storm is supposed to be the worst one of the year.”

“I love you.”

Sarah blurts it out so fast that you think you’re dreaming. 

“I— What?”

She tucks a wet clump of strands behind her ear, before grabbing both of your hands into hers. Her thumbs run over your knuckles as she searches for the courage to look at you again.

“You’re the reason I was with John B in the first place. I…I wanted to be close to you, anyway I could, because I thought that you were never going to make your move. You could never say how you felt about me, and then John B did, and I figured…this would be the only way to stay close to you. But I love you, Y/N. Not him.” 

Your eyes are welling with tears, and you smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirms, her own lips curling up as she watches your eyes sparkle. “It was never him. It was always you.”

You use your intertwined hands to pull her closer. “You better kiss me, then.”

And she does.

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