#Sarah Never So Norm

[inkyu]

I am fighting art block with still looking drawings

(Left side is Karako Hiveswap) (and right side are OC's)

[cosmic-chelonian]

The fact that there are so many lore inconsistencies in Dr Who is sometimes a good thing actually because it means I feel justified in having headcanons that vastly and grossly contradict show canon. If the writers can ignore things they don't like why can't I.

[geniemillies]

i will never be convinced on rhysand the better high lord when tamlin opened his court to refugees during amarantha's reign, began celebrating festivities that didn't belong to spring just so they'd feel at home, played for them too with his silly fiddle omg, refused to send his people beyond the wall until he was desperate, felt them die because their bond as subject and high lord was just too great (sarah's words not mine), even buried a lesser fae in his court after he was brutalized by amarantha, dug the ground with his haaaands, said lesser fae wasn't even his subject but he offered him peace and company during his death anyway. then there's mister change takes time over here, has his people living in harsh conditions in camps, under a mountain where they cannot leave because they're more weapons than people. so if you were born anywhere in his court that's not velaris sucks to suck i guess.

don't even get me started on his family being in charge while he was gone for 50 yrs because their circus troupe didn't do squat either. cassian is a privileged boy who has lost all emotional connection to his own people. idk what azriel does besides do a job he doesn't even want to do and mope around i guess. morrigan hates her people, morrigan 'i'm the exception, everybody evil except for me and i will make no effort to change anything bc im too pretty for that'. amren. amren wtf even is she doing in the night court. not even from the lands and she's already named second in command, that's all i have to know about the high lord. what is she commanding? *in damian's voice* she doesn't even go here!!!

tamlin did more for spring and people from other courts in those fifty years than the ic will ever consider doing for the night court. morrigan couldn't lift a pinkie, if you mention doing anything for hewn city she'd start whining throwing up waa waa waa, grown ass woman. cassian kisses the dirt rhysand steps on, if he says bark he out here 🐕. amren is just there for shits and giggles. azriel.

so if anyone sat on their asses it's rhysand and his ragtag group of powerful people who don't do shit with it. illyrians still suffer in the camps, hewn city still trapped in a mountain where abuse is the norm. and they aaaalll stiiill haaaate youuur aaaasss 💥💥💥💥💥

[maybank5]

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐤 (𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭)

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ you and jj have never gotten along; sworn enemies since childhood. so why is then, when he shows up with bruises, you want to burn the entire world down for this boy?

tags and such: abuse, mentions of abuse, fluff, comfort, walks on the beach, mutual crushes, jj calling you 'mama'

a/n ⤜ needing some comfort jj fics in my life right now, and i'm sure i'm not alone in that. enjoy! also this was supposed to just be a little drabble, but she kinda took on a life of her own. not complaining though lol

song inspo ⤜ any kyla la grange song

word count ⤜ 4k+

JJ Maybank - the bane of your existence. Ever since he had trampled your sandcastle on the playground back when you were seven, you couldn't stand him. And one trampled sandcastle had set the stage for ten years of torment at the hands of this boy. He seemed to revel in making your life miserable. He wouldn't be JJ Maybank if he wasn't pulling your hair or teasing you or shoulder-checking you in the hallway. And you wouldn't be you if you didn't put your hands on your hips and glare at him, shouting after him a scolding, "Oh grow up!" that was only ever met with that laugh of his that seemed to bounce of the cinderblock walls of the school halls.

You had come to realize sometime around sophomore year that you and JJ Maybank were destined to be enemies. You found yourself looking forward to the school day, to see just how he'd try to fuck with you, and to scold him and hear that damn laugh. Your friends couldn't understand it; why the two of you always seemed to seek each other out, despite your mutual hatred. "You wouldn't get it," you'd say with a shrug. JJ Maybank was your mortal enemy, but you honestly couldn't imagine your school day, your life, without him in it.

JJ is no stranger to a fight. He's always getting into something with the kooks from Figure Eight. It's not out of the norm for him to show up to school with a busted lip or black eye. He always shrugs it off, brags about how the other guy "looks much worse." You roll your eyes and shake your head. He's never seriously hurt though, so you don't worry too much. It's not like you lose sleep over JJ Maybank. Still, you can't help the relief you feel that shoots through you like a drug whenever he laughs off the bruises or black eyes.

But today is different. Yesterday, JJ wasn't in school. Not that unusual of an occurrence. But today, JJ shows up to school with his face a galaxy of purples and yellows. Your heart sinks to your stomach as if weighted with a lead anchor. This wasn't just the result of a spat between a Pogue and a Kook. He looked like he'd been jumped and you spend the entire morning following him with your eyes. You want to go over and check on him, press your palm to his cheek, and ask what happened, make sure he's okay. But that's not you and JJ. Instead, you hug your books tighter to your chest and follow him down the halls with your gaze. All you want to do is run after him, check on him. It makes no sense. You know he probably just got in another fight. JJ was always stirring up some type of trouble. But he didn't have the usual laugh or smile this time. His eyes looked almost hallow, broken. It made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You could barely focus in class, all your thoughts drifting to JJ Maybank and those haunting bruises. They were like ghosts in your head.

At the end of the day, JJ was swinging his backpack onto his shoulder with a wince, about to hop into his truck with you surprised yourself. Instead of catching a ride with your friend Sarah, you find yourself running across the parking lot to his beat up, rusted old truck.

"JJ!" You call.

His head whips around, brows furrow when he sees you. Then, that lazy smirk spreads painfully across the snagged and scabbed lip, "Y/N," he says in that lazy, bemused kind of way of his, that let's you know you're in for something, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

You want to scold him like you would normally. Instead, you freeze. You don't know what to say that doesn't include some sort of spat or dig. Instead, all you want to do is pull him close to you and hold him in your arms and it makes no damn sense.

"You weren't in school yesterday," you settle for saying.

"Astute observation, Sherlock."

Your stomach flips a little, excitedly like it does before a fight with JJ Maybank; like you were born for these little interactions. Instead, you take a breath and try your best to push through the wall he's putting up. "I just...I wanted to make sure you're okay?"

"When am I ever not okay?" JJ asks, pushing the blonde hair off his forehead with a practiced flick of his hand.

You sigh. He's deflecting. Of course he is. When does JJ Maybank ever take anything seriously. You don't know why it bothers you so much, but you need him to know. You need him to know that you care, that you're in his corner. You'd fight against him a thousand times over, but when he shows up looking like this, all you want to do is fight at his side and burn down the world for him. You know it doesn't make sense, but when did anything regarding JJ Maybank make sense.

You decide to meet him where he's put you. "Just seen you prettier, that's all," you say with a shrug. If he wants to deflect and be snarky, you can do that too. If snark is his comfort zone, you can meet him there.

JJ tugs the corner of his bottom lip between those feline-like teeth of his. He's amused, and it makes you happy to know you made him smile. Or rather, JJ's version of a smile.

"You worried about me, darlin'?" He drawls.

"If someone roughs you up too badly, who do I have to fight with?" You ask, and JJ laughs. Your stomach dips with the weight of the butterflies that have filled it.

JJ pushing his hair back again, smirk still playing on his lip, "Don't worry, darlin', nothin' can stop me from fighting with you. It's my favorite part of my day."

You cross your arms, fighting the smile on your face as you shake your head. "You're impossible," you say.

"And you love it," he says. You don't realize right away that you don't deny it.

"So...need a ride?" He asks, glancing behind you as Sarah's car pulls from the parking lot. "Cause it looks like yours just left."

Sarah. She's always trying to get you two alone. For some reason, she has it in her head that all your fighting is just camouflaging your "real feelings." You think Sarah needs to stop reading so many fanfics in her free time.

"Of course," you sigh, "Remind me to give Sarah Cameron an earful when I get home."

JJ just chuckles and unlocks the truck, tossing his backpack in the backseat. "Get in," he says. You don't argue.

You toss your bag in the back next to his before joining him in the front seat. Sitting together on his bench seats of his old truck feels almost intimate. This is the closest you've ever been to JJ before, and it's happening when you're alone. Both your brain and stomach feel as if they're on rollercoasters.

JJ backs the truck out of the school parking lot. "So, where to, Y/L/N?"

You tell him your street and he nods. He rolls down his window and with practiced ease, takes out and lights a cigarette one handed. You try not to wrinkle your nose. This is his truck and he's being kind enough to give you a ride. You aren't going to be a pain about a little cigarette smoke.

JJ begins to drum his fingers on the wheel, his right knee is bouncing jitterijngly. The cigarette between his fingers is doing nothing to calm his nerves, and you fight the urge to rest your hand on his knee.

"So," you say after a beat, "You gonna tell me about the sick fight you got in that led to....that," you wave a hand in his general direction.

JJ takes a drag of the cigarette, the air in the truck suddenly feeling thicker. "Not much too tell. Mouthed off, the usual."

You nod, "We both know that mouth of yours is gonna get you in some type of trouble one day."

JJ smirks, but it doesn't quite reach his eye, "Yeah," another drag of the cigarette, "But fuck, I wish hadn't been so drunk out of his mind to forget he was wearing that damn class ring."

You freeze. "What?"

"Dad," another drag, "That's who I've got to thank for these sick bruises. Dear ol' Dad."

"JJ..."

"It's fine," he quick to say, quick to shrug, "I've got it under control. It's usually not this bad. But last night he was completely hammered and I should have known not to..."

"No, JJ," you're quick to say, "Nothing you did is an excuse for this. Whatever you did, you didn't deserve this. This is on him, not on you."

JJ sighs, tightens his hand on the wheel, "Whatever," he says, another shrug, a slight sniffle, "It's just a few more months, then I'm eighteen and I'm out. It's fine, really Y/N. I've got it under control. And usually when he gets like that, I can hide out at John B's place, lay low a bit."

"JJ, you shouldn't have to..."

"It is what it is," JJ says, another shrug, "It's just the roll of the dice. The hand I've been dealt. I learned a long time ago it does nobody any good to run around feeling sorry for yourself."

"Does anyone know?" You ask, you feel like your stepping out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the weight of the ice.

"John B, his dad. They do what they can. No one blinks twice at a kid from The Cut with a few bruises. I've got a home, I'm fed. That's more than most of the kids from the broken homes 'round here. Besides, if anyone did come sniffin' around and decide to take me away, you know what that means, Y/N? That means being taken to the mainland, to a group home that'd probably be worse than where I am now. And I won't have John B or Big John or the surf to keep me sane. So I lay low, try to stay out of his way. It's fine, Y/N. I'm fine."

Your hand hovers slightly before you press above JJ's knee, right where the khaki cargo shorts cut off. His skin is soft, tanned. You half expect him to jerk away, to smack your hand away. Instead, he tenses under your touch, his eyes draw to you. You give him a soft smile.

"It's okay not to be fine, JJ. You don't have to be fine all the time, and you certainly don't have to be fine around me. It sucks, and I'm so sorry this is what you go through. You've never minced words with me before, so don't start now. It fucking sucks. But you aren't alone, okay? I'm here for you too."

"Mind if we make a pit stop first?" JJ asks.

You shrug, "I've got nowhere else to be."

You're sure Sarah is probably glued to her phone wanting every detail. You can make her stew a little bit.

JJ pulls the truck over at the drive-in burger place, Storm's. He orders two strawberry milkshakes.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, then I'm kicking you out of this truck right now," he says, paying the carhop the $5.50 and handing you your Styrofoam cup.

"If you don't like strawberry milkshakes, I might never speak to you again," you say.

"Damn it," he snaps his fingers with a grin, "Nearly had an out."

You give his shoulder a shove and JJ laughs. It feels good to hear him laugh, to be the cause of it. You want to make him laugh over and over again.

JJ takes the truck out towards the beach. You sit in silence as you watch the waves, sipping your milkshakes. Silence has always made you feel awkward, on edge. This silence between you feels almost comfortable. Like neither of you have to say anything, and that's okay.

Still, you can't help but ask, "You have somewhere to go tonight?"

"Been staying at John B's," JJ says, "Dad'll cool off in a few days. Sober up. He's predictable like that. Hell," JJ laughs humorlessly, "I'll bet this weekend he'll pull up with an ice chest of beer and cans of tuna and have a whole weekend out on the boat planned just the two of us. That's as close to an apology as Luke Maybank can muster."

"JJ..."

"It's fine, Y/N. Like I said, I've got it under control. A few more months and then I'm out. I've even got money saved. John B and I are gonna rent a place close to the water. It'll be sick."

"Sounds nice," you say. "This is nice," you wave your milkshake out towards the sea just ahead, "I don't come to the beach enough."

"You don't? How do you survive?"

You can't help but laugh at how genuinely concerned he sounds. "Not everyone needs the salt water to survive, Jage," you say, "I guess I just never grew up with it. My parents are definitely more inside people. And sure we go to the beach sometimes. But I guess I just don't go out of my way to come here."

"That's just sad, Y/N. One of these days, I'm gonna have to teach you to surf." The comment seems to take the both of you by surprise. "Uh..." JJ's hand goes immediately to the back of his neck.

"I'd like that," you're quick to say, and it seems to relax him just a bit.

"Really?" That lazy grin is back.

"Mmhmm," you nod, "No one's ever gone out of their way to teach me anything like that before. And even I know you're one of the best surfers on the island."

JJ beams with pride, sits up a little straighter, "Damn straight." He takes another slurp of his milkshake, then lifts his chin towards the water, "C'mon," he says.

"Where are we going?" You ask as he's already bailing out of the truck.

"Just c'mon," he says.

You can't help but laugh, leaving your milkshake behind. JJ takes your hand in his and pulls you towards the beach. The wind is kicking up as evening approaches, and you walk along the sand, breathing in the brine of the salt water. JJ's still holding your hand in his, and you can't help but think it belongs there, in his.

"This right here," he says, "is why I stay where I am. I can't imagine being away from the ocean, the surf. John B says I have saltwater for blood and maybe he's right. But this right here, Y/N, is my favorite place in the world. It's paradise. Everything else, all the bullshit, it's worth it to be here. There's no where else I'd rather be."

"It is beautiful," you say, "I definitely need to come out to the water more."

"I'll bring you."

"You better."

JJ smiles, tightens his hand around yours.

The two of you walk along the beach, enjoying the sounds of the waves splashing, the gulls cawlling from above. Some little kids are building sandcastles as you walk past.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" You ask, "I was building a sandcastle in the sand box on the playground and you trampled right over it."

"That was not the first time we met."

"Yes it was."

"Oh no it wasn't. C'mon, Y/N, do you really not remember?"

"I remember you trampling my sandcastle is what I remember."

JJ shakes his head, "We met before that. Nursery school. About two years before then."

"What?" Your brows furrow as you try to think back that far.

"It was your first day and you were crying and clutching that stupid teddy bear of yours. You didn't want your mom to leave you. You sat off by yourself crying all morning. I went over and shared my Goldfish with you cause I felt bad."

"Oh my God..."

"Yeah," JJ runs a hand through his hair, watching the sand kick beneath his feat, "And then that day on the playground, I was so excited to see you again that I ran over and...accidentally stomped on your sandcastle. But by then you were so livid that I'd ruined it and started yelling at me, and well...I've always been kind of a shit about things and so I started kicking it worse, just to get a rise out of you. I'd have done the same thing to John B. But seeing you get all...squawk like that."

"I do not squawk."

"Oh you absolutely squawk," JJ laughs, "And thus began our beautiful rivalry as we know it."

"You're a pain," you say, but you can't help the smile on your face.

"You love it though."

"Do not."

"Do too!" JJ gives you a gentle shove with his shoulder, "You absolutely start half the shit that's happened between us. You go out of your way to track me down and yell at me for something."

"I do not do that!"

"You absolutely do that. And you drag poor Sarah long with you and she stands there and tries not to laugh as we go at it. If I didn't know better, Y/N, I'd say you actually enjoyed our fights."

"That's not true! You are such a menace! You get on my last never all the time and..."

"Uh-huh," JJ's smirk deepens, the dimple forms in his cheek, "Keep tellin' yourself that, Mama."

The term of endearment makes your stomach tighten. You can feel your cheeks heat, and it's not from the sun.

"Don't call me that," you say.

"Why not?" JJ asks.

"Because," you can't think of a single valid reason. "That nickname is for a significant other," you finally say.

"True," JJ nods, "And that's definitely not you, right?"

"Absolutely not," you say, your hand gives his an involuntary squeeze, "In your dreams, Maybank."

"What do you know about my dreams, Y/L/N?"

You give him a shove, and JJ laughs.

"I like that," you say before you can stop yourself.

"Like what?" JJ asks.

"Your laugh."

You swear his cheeks go a shade of pink when you say it.

"No one likes my laugh," he says.

"That's not true. John B likes your laugh, I see the two of you. He's always trying to go out of his way to make you laugh. And I like it too."

JJ blushes deeper, "You can't just go runnin' around sayin' shit like that," he says.

"And why not?"

JJ just sighs, lifts his eyes to the sky like he's saying a silent prayer and shakes his head, "You just can't, darlin'."

The two of you walk a little further, to one of the rocky hills. JJ still holds your hand as the two of you climb up to sit on the top. He pulls his knees to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. "Love coming here," he says, "Best place to sit and clear your head when the noise of everything else gets too loud."

"It really is beautiful," you say, "Thank you for bringing me."

"Haven't had a chance to come out here since the other night," JJ says, picks up a rock and turns it in his hand. "Went straight to John B's after."

You finally reach a hand out, cup his cheek in your palm, "I'm so sorry, JJ," you say, wishing your gentle touch could somehow erase the pain from his flesh. You realize in this moment that JJ Maybank should only ever feel gentleness and softness. It breaks your heart to think he's felt anything else.

"Nothin' to be sorry for," he says, overlapping your hand with his, "But thank you, Y/N."

"Make you a deal," you say.

"What's that?" JJ asks.

"Any time things feel like a lot, you can come find me and bring me out here. I need a surf instructor after all. Any time you need to clear your head and need an excuse, I'm here."

JJ smiles, nuzzles his cheek into your hand, "Thanks, Y/N." He takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the back of your knuckles, "Can I tell you a secret?" He asks.

"Sure."

"I think that's why I pick fights with you like I do. Fighting with you...it's fun. And it pulls me out of my head. Distracts me."

You can't explain it, but his words make your stomach dip. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," JJ blushes again, ducks his head, "I just...it's fun. Isn't it?"

"It is," you admit, "I like fighting with you."

"But after all these years...." he sighs, "...sometimes I can't help but wonder..."

"Wonder?"

"If there might be something better...better than fighting."

The butterflies are back and you tilt your head to meet his eye, "Like?"

"You're my distraction, Y/N. Every bit as much as the waves are. You keep me grounded. It sounds stupid....but the reason I even still come to school at all is because I look forward to fightin' with you. I'm just sayin'....what if there was something more than fightin'."

"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask. JJ nods. "Sarah gives me so much shit for it, but fighting with you is one of my favorite parts of the day. I do look for you and go out of my way to yell at you for something. It's...it's fun, getting under each other's skin. I can't imagine you not being the fixture you've become in my life, JJ Maybank. I don't think I want to."

JJ takes a breath, the blush is back on his cheeks. You give his hand a squeeze.

"What would you want with a guy like me?" He asks and your heart clenches in your chest.

You let go of his hand and turn to face him, sitting up on your knees. "JJ Maybank," you say, gently scolding, "Don't you even think that. Not for a second."

"Look at me though," he says with a broken sigh, "I'm fucked up, Y/N. Just look at my face..."

You interrupt with a press of your lips to his cheek. JJ freezes, you hear the softest little gasp escape. You press another kiss to another bruise, and another. The bruise on his cheekbones, the cut above his eyebrow, the purple blooming along his eyesocket. JJ is almost shaking as you press a final kiss to the cut on his swollen lip.

"Jesus, Mama..." he says, and it sounds like a prayer.

"That a better distraction than fighting?" You ask with a smirk of your own.

"Fuck yes," his voice is thick and wrecked as you sit back, card your hand through the blonde bangs sticking to his forehead.

"I think so too," you say. "What do you say we retire our title of mortal enemies, hmm?"

"Yes please."

You can't help but giggle at the desperation in his voice, "What other title should we give each other then?" You ask.

JJ rolls his eyes, the smile on his face big enough to split him in two, "You're really gonna make me say it?"

"Mmhmm."

JJ shakes his head helplessly, "Alright, fine. You win. Girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend," you say back.

JJ ducks his head to hide the blush staining his cheeks. His smile has somehow grown even bigger. Then, as if finally getting a handle on himself, he reaches up and pulls you towards him, hand at the nape of your neck.

"You know what this means, right?" He asks, lips hovering above yours.

"Tell me."

"I get to kiss you any time I like."

"Well you god-damn better," you can't help but grin.

JJ chuckles lowly, before capturing your lip in his. The kiss is unlike any other kiss you've ever experienced; those sweet, shy kisses on doorsteps after dates to dances and diners. This is different. There's a desperation there, a hunger, and a hope all in one. JJ nips at your lip as the two of you pull apart.

"Fuck," he says on a sigh.

"Better than fighting?" You ask again.

"So much better."

You press another kiss to his cheek, "I wish I could kiss away every bit of pain, JJ."

"This?" JJ points to the bruise on his cheek, "Aint nothin'. I'd walk through fire and back for one kiss from you."

"I'd never ask you to," you say, cupping his cheek in your palm again. "You know what this means, right?"

"What's that, Mama?"

"I get to kiss you any time I like. No walking through fire required."

"You're letting me call you Mama," JJ says, reaching a hand out to twist a strand of your hair around his finger.

"Boyfriend privileges and all that," you say.

"I like the sound of that," JJ grins, "Tell me, darlin'. What other privileges do these new titles come with?"

You shake your head with a laugh, "You'll just have to see."

The sun is starting to set and JJ sighs, "Guess I better be gettin' you home."

"Pry should."

"And Big John is grilling out for us tonight, so I should get back for that."

"You gonna be okay?" You ask.

"Of course," he says, "I'm JJ Maybank. When am I ever not okay?"

You sigh and shake your head as he holds out his hand and helps you to your feet. "Besides," he says as the two of you start the walk to the car, "I get to look forward to seeing my girl tomorrow."

You can't help but blush. JJ holds the truck door open for you and you slide in. He goes around to the drivers side and hops in, turning the key in the ignition.

"Do girlfriends get AUX privileges?" You ask, reaching for the cable hanging down by your feet.

"Fuck no," JJ laughs, snatching it away, "I've heard the shit you and Sarah blast from her convertible. Girlfriend or not, Taylor Swift is not touchin' these speakers."

"But...girlfriend privileges."

"Girlfriend privileges nothin'," JJ grins, backing the truck out, "Girlfriend privileges mean I'm pressin' you up against this truck and kissin' you breathless before I tell you goodnight. It does not mean blasting Taylor Swift in ol' Daisy Mae."

"You named your truck Daisy Mae?"

"What?"

"That's more egregious than any music I could play from my phone."

"Don't you be talkin' shit about Daisey Mae, okay?"

"Stupid ass name," you say with a smile.

JJ lifts his middle finger at you with a smile equally as big.

"Alright," you say, "question."

"What's that?"

"Just because we've retired the title of mortal enemies doesn't mean we still can't fight, right?"

"Not the fun fights anyway," JJ grins, "Those fights I can always just shut you up by kissin' you."

"Menace."

"Always."

You shake your head, laughing and lean your head against his shoulder.

"Oh I am in so much trouble," he says, handing you the AUX cord, "You've already got me wrapped around your finger. You always have."

You press another kiss to his cheek, taking his hand in yours. You pull up These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding.

"And you've got me wrapped around yours," you say.

JJ grins, lifting your hand to kiss your knuckles. The two of you drive the rest of the way to your house in silence, your head on his shoulder and Otis' voice crooning from the crackling stereo. JJ Maybank was officially now no longer the bane of your existence, and maybe Sarah Cameron hadn't been that off-base after all. All you knew in this moment though was you'd spent the last ten years being driven crazy by JJ Maybank, and you'd gladly be driven crazy by him the next ten.

[the-moon-devi]

Astro Indicators Of Being Curvy

Reminder! This can change based off of genetics, and if you have any harsh aspects from saturn to any of these planets/placements.

🍑 Jupiter Dominance~ Individuals with Jupiter as one of their dominant planets tend to have a curvaceous appearance or a particular body part that is noticeably larger. However, this trait usually manifests in conjunction with other factors. Jupiter governs the legs, which often leads to this body part being much more prominent than others.

🍑 Moon/Venus Dominance: Both of these are feminine planets. Having 1 or both of these as your top 3 dominant planets gives the native a natural, curvy shape and womanly appearance. Moon gives you softness and bust. Moon can also bring the weight, while venus brings in the shape and curves. Moon rules boobs and venus rules the butt.

🍑 Sag/Taurus/Cancer/Libra dominant

🍑 Ceres in 1h/ conjunct Asc~ This is the asteroid of motherhood. And from what I've notice this brings women specifically a plumpness and curviness to their appearance. Their womanly body parts are more accentuated. Usually the chest area is prominent too!

Ex: Marilyn Monroe

🍑 Saggittarius Ascendants- our centaurs bring the legs. Lol. Although it doesn't always have to be the legs but it's usually something nice about that area. Sag Ascendants are ruled by the planet of expansion (jupiter) so its never surprising when I see that they are thicker than most people in their family.

🍑 purva ashada Ascendants

🍑 Cancer Ascendants- cancer all around brings womanliness, and femininity. They can sometimes embody that motherly figure of having wider hips and being thicker especially once they get older. Most the times when we see Cancer Ascendants who are slim they usually have saturn or mercurial influence on the Ascendant. Cancer can also bring the tata's.

🍑 Libra/Taurus Ascendants

🍑 7th house lord (positively aspecting) jupiter/moon

🍑 Moon in 2nd,1st,7th,4th house

🍑 Venus - Jupiter

🍒 Venus - Moon

🍒 4th house ruler aspecting Jupiter

🍒 Jupiter in 1h, 2h, 4h

🍒 Punarvasu, Vishaka, Purvabhadrapada in big 3

🍒 Jupiter aspecting sun/moon, ascendant, ascendant ruler

🍒 Mars ruled nakshatras in big 3; dhanistha,Mrigashira, Chitra

🍒 Aqaurius Moon/ Uranus - Moon; The Curious Case of Aquarius and Curviness/

It's perplexing to think about how Aquarius or even Uranus could be related to body shape. However, these celestial bodies are known for ruling trends, and in recent years, it has become fashionable to embrace curves. Women who are curvier than the norm, especially those from diverse cultural backgrounds, have become the face of uniqueness. Aquarius, the outcast of the zodiac, can bring attention to unconventional body parts on women. This can be unexpected and may occur with age, causing body image issues in some women, especially those with an Aquarius moon. This sign also brings a taboo or otherworldly appearance, which is why I believe Sarah Baartman, who was treated like an animal for her appearance, was an Aquarius moon. Women with an Aquarius moon can stand out because of their unique nature, as this sign is associated with trends. Not all Aquarius moon women are going to be curvy, but it is understandable why some plus-size models with an Aquarius influence on their moon have been celebrated for breaking beauty standards.

Ex: Barbie Ferreira, Ashley Graham, Precious Lee, and Mia Amber Davis w/ Moon conjunct Uranus

🍒 Moon aspecting Ascendant

🍒 Moon- Jupiter

The more you have the thicker you are. It usually takes a combination of these. If you have these and still aren't considered to be thick, check and see if you have saturn or mercury impacting your ascendant or ascendant ruler.

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓓𝓮'𝓛𝓾𝔁𝔁𝓮

𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓞𝓾𝓽.....

𝓗𝓸𝓽 𝓐𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝔂

©𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵

[amournoir]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: sarah cameron x f!reader

count: 3.6k

warning: smut [boob play, scissoring, toys, oral receiving & giving, language?]

author’s note: continuation of ‘firsts’, idk where this is going so we’ll see. have fun reading & remember this is 21+! 💋

It had been a week since you last saw Sarah and almost two weeks since you two had been in the same room alone. It wasn’t as though you were ignoring her, she just became busy with the pogues which brought us to today. Sarah had invited you and Kiara over for a girls night. You didn’t suspect anything aside from the usual gossip, skincare, mani/pedis, etc. that took place at every girls night. Except this would be the first time you hung out with Kiara alone. She was always wrapped up in the guys or some ‘save the planet’ shit so you only saw her in passing, never private. 

After you finished packing your bag, you grabbed your silk pajamas and towel then headed for the shower. During sleepovers, you and Sarah normally took showers at the house but you didn’t know if the norm for you and Sarah would be the same with Kiara included. Once you had unbraided your hair, you hopped in your shower and let the hot water relax you. Twenty minutes later and you were out, drying yourself then oiling then dressing. You pulled your freshly washed hair in a bun, no need to dry since it did so by itself. With your bag fully packed and you clean, you slipped on your uggs slippers and grabbed your phone as you headed downstairs. 

Your mom waited in the car as you double checked everything and then you two were off. It took less than ten minutes to get to her house but you refused to walk or heaven forbid, bike there— in your pajamas. Your mom waved at you goodbye and you returned it, turning around to knock rapidly on the front door. A minute or two later, Rafe opened up with a confused look. 

“Hey Y/N. Why are you here?” 

You furrowed your brows, “The sleepover, what else?” 

“Sarah didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

He scratched the back of his neck as he often does when he’s uncomfortable. “She and Kiara had some sort of fight so she canceled.” 

Before I could say anything, he quickly added, “But you’re her best friend so I doubt she’d cancel on you.” 

I looked up in the direction of the stairs and pointed. “Can I go up and check?” 

“Yeah, yeah sure.” He closed the front door and locked it. 

Before he could walk away, I asked, “If it is, could you drop me home?” 

“Of course Y/N.” He smiled and walked away to some other part of the house as I headed up the stairs. 

When I got closer to her room, it was the very last one in the long hallway, I could hear music. Her door was closed but the music drowned out the sound of me opening it. I leaned against the frame as I watched her bob her head around with her headphones in. I stood there for a minute or more then decided to interrupt. I waved my hand in front of me and that’s when her head perked up. 

“Y/N! You’re here!” She exclaimed, taking out one earbud. 

“Yeah but I probably shouldn’t be. Apparently tonight is canceled?” I asked with a raised brow. 

“Oh that. Yeah, kinda.” This was unlike her, she always had an explanation. 

I crossed my hands over my chest and waited. She stared at me, sighed then removed the other earbud and turned her phone off. She fixed her posture and sat crisscrossed, patting the space in front of her on the bed. I closed the door behind me, dropping my bag on the floor near the foot of the bed then sat down with one leg dangling off the edge. 

Sarah explained that it was meant to be a girls night but she and Kiara got into an argument, as Rafe had mentioned. Apparently Kiara didn’t want me to hangout with the guys because, in her words, ‘one kook is enough’. That didn’t make any sense considering she was a kook as well but that was the argument. Sarah pointed out that we had been friends since childhood and I knew the guys, there wasn’t a reason why I couldn’t hang out with all of them but Kiara didn’t want another kook. Sarah thought this sleepover would bring Kiara and I closer but the moment she found out, she refused to come, hence why Sarah canceled it. 

I was aware that Kiara wasn’t a fan of me but she had no reason why. She didn’t know me, only knew of me from others. The thing that bothered me the most was her calling me a kook as if she was a pogue. Anyways, there was no love lost. I just knew I had to steer clear of her, I couldn’t force the girl to be my friend but I was hoping to be cordial though.  

“Don’t worry about her Y/N. I spoke to the guys and they’re down to hang without Kie.” Sarah assured me. 

I let out a soft scoff, “Pope would never, maybe JJ or John B sometimes.” 

“Yeah, he’ll be hard to convince but whatever. It’s girls night so what do you say about spending it without her?” 

I shrugged and said, “I’m cool with it. More fun for us!” 

“Rightttt…speaking of fun…” Sarah trailed off. 

“Oh no.” 

“I haven’t said anything yet!” 

“Sarah, whenever you start dragging your words, you have something planned.” 

She huffed, “Guilty.” She added quickly with a smirk, “Butttt, I promise you’ll like it.” 

“What is it?” 

Her face broke out in a wide grin, “Promise to keep an open mind?” 

“Now I’m nervous.” 

“No, don’t be! It’s fun!” 

I let out a small chuckle, “So then tell me, what is it?” 

“First close your eyes and remain seated.” 

And just like that my smile went away. What on earth could she possibly be up to this time?! I knew I wouldn’t get any answers out of her so I agreed and closed my eyes. She got off the bed, walked toward her closet or was it her bathroom? I couldn’t tell but before she returned to the bed, she went to her door and locked it. I could hear her footsteps coming back towards me then the bed dipped and she sat in front of me. 

“Okay now open.” 

I opened one eye at a time but nothing in the room looked different. There was a box in front of me however, it was just a medium sized black delivery package. I stared at it then looked up at her then down at the box again. Was it an animal? Drugs? Expensive alcohol to hide from Rafe and Ward? 

“It’s a box. I don’t get it.” 

She smiled and slowly opened it. There were three smaller packages inside, also in black but they had different shapes. One by one, Sarah carefully unwrapped them as she paid close attention to my reaction. At first I furrowed my brows in confusion but the second it hit me, I gasped then stared in surprise and curiosity. 

“Tell me you didn’t.” 

“I did. Y/N I so did!” 

“Does anyone know?” 

“Nope. I’ve been watching the mailman like a hawk the past week.” 

“Where’d you even get them?” 

“Online. They have a return policy in case I don’t like it.” 

“Do you?” 

“I dunno. I haven’t tried it yet.” 

I raised one brow and asked, “Will you?” 

“Yeah…” She started then continued, “…if you try it with me.” 

I accidentally let out a laugh, “Sarah I’ve never used them!” 

“So let’s do it together! What are best friends for?” 

“I don’t think normal best friends share sex toys.” 

“Well that’s because they’re boring. Besides I like playing with you, we shared toys when we were younger.” 

I fully let out a laugh, “Sarah, barbie dolls and dildos aren’t the same thing!” 

“So you don’t want to?” She pouted slightly. 

“I didn’t say that but…I might be convinced into it.” 

Sarah smirked and before I knew what was happening, she unbuttoned her pajama top slowly. She shrugged it off her shoulders and sat there, staring at me. She had nothing underneath so for a while, we both sat in silence as I ogled at her boobs. Slowly, she cupped both breasts in her hands and rubbed them against each other. Her fingers brushed over her nipples and a faint moan left her lips. 

I licked my own and looked up at her, all she did was nod. Without a word spoken between us, I reached forward and fondled them in my hands. They were so full and warm. I bounced them around, enjoying watching them sway in different directions. I lowered my head and took one boob in my mouth, it tasted just how I remembered it. I was too greedy though, I wanted the other in my mouth as well so I tried stuffing them. This made Sarah moan. I suckled on them like a baby, eyes fully closed as I immersed myself fully into it. 

After a while, I pulled away and looked down at them. They were red with bite marks and saliva all over, I felt quite proud. I quickly reached down my own shirt and pulled it over my head, leaving my naked chest exposed to her. As if we were thinking the same thing, we both grinded our chests against each other. Her wet sticky boobs rubbed against mine, the body heat turning us on even more. We pulled apart and wordlessly, stood up and took our pajama bottoms off along with the underwear. 

I got back on the bed and spread my legs apart, Sarah sat in front of me and widened her legs as well. She spit into her hand and wiped it on my cunt then on her own. She inched closer until I could feel her cunt against mine, she looked at me as though to ask for permission and I nodded my head. The moment our pussies touched, I let out a moan. We were both very warm and wet. I lowered my head slightly and spit in between us. Sarah moved her hips first then I followed, we continued until we reached a good pace. 

The squelching noises of our pussies rubbing against each other was doing it for me. I grinded even harder against her, our boobs practically slapping each other but we didn’t care. We just wanted to reach our high regardless of the lewd noises. This went on for a bit until suddenly she shook. I saw this as my opportunity to take charge so I did. I easily pushed her down until she was laying flat on the bed on her back then I swung my leg over and adjusted myself. I lifted her leg up and held onto it for support as I rode her pussy. 

Sarah could do nothing but lay down and take it, she reached up to slap my ass but otherwise, she praised me to go on. I no longer cared for her needs, I just wanted to cum. I was determined to ride her until I got my fill and even more after. I could feel myself tensing up and right on time, she shook again. Mere moments later, she squirted right on my pussy and I came on hers. In the heat of the moment, I licked up her leg, kissing and sucking different spots. 

“Fuck Y/N, that was so hot!” She exclaimed, a wide grin on her face. 

“Right? Shit that squirt made me cum more.” 

“You like that baby? You like when I squirt on you?” 

“So fucking much.” I bit my lip as I peered over at the toys. “How about I do it again?” 

Sarah smiled and gave my ass a light tap. I got off of her as she reached for a light purple, almost lavender, two-sided dildo. She sat up and looked at me then placed the toy over my lips. I obeyed immediately and opened my mouth, making sure to stick out my tongue. She inserted the dildo slowly then pushed it to the back of my throat, pulled it out and did it again. I had a gag reflex so each time I would gag on it then cough. She kept repeating it several times until I no longer coughed but still gagged. 

“Aww you look so pretty baby. Taking all that purple cock in your throat.” She cooed. 

I couldn’t respond so I just nodded. 

“Can’t speak? Too busy choking on my cock?” 

My eyes started to water, she was going a bit rougher now. Saliva was dripping down my chin. 

“What a pretty whore. She likes cocks and tribbing and boobs. Do you want me to fuck your mouth?” 

I nodded quickly as my pussy clenched on thin air from her words. I was a good whore for her. I liked being fucked with a purple dildo. I liked stuffing her boobs in my mouth. Yes, I was a whore for Sarah Cameron. 

“Okay baby but first I want you to beg for it.” Sarah replied as she pulled the whole dildo out. 

I gasped at the fresh air, my eyes already blurry. “Please mommy, fuck my mouth. I promise to be a good girl for you.” 

“Mm that’s a nice start but I want more.” 

“I’ll let you fuck both holes mommy but now I just wanna suck.” 

Sarah smiled and bit her lip excitedly. She tapped my mouth again and I opened once more. I was sitting on my knees but I leaned forward in excitement. With my boobs dangling about, Sarah shoved the dildo deeper into my throat and used her free hand to pinch my nipples. She slapped them around and commanded ‘bounce’ so I did. I made my tits bounce around for her as I choked on the cock. I felt very whore-like and I actually liked it. 

Before I got too into it, she immediately pulled it out and simply said ‘bend over’ which I did as well. On all fours, I stared at the floor length mirror in front of me and saw my reflection. Sarah had situated herself behind me, rubbing my cunt as I waited with legs wide open for her. She spit on my ass and it dripped down to my pussy, my body instinctively clenched and she chuckled. 

Sarah rubbed one of the heads of the dildo against my cunt then slowly inserted it. I had never had anything inside me so the feeling was very odd and uncomfortable as hell. I let out slow deep breaths and Sarah soothed my back. She went very slowly, only continuing when I would nod. Minutes later, I was relaxed and my pussy ached for more. I wiggled my ass a bit and she smiled, gave it a slap then pushed the dildo deeper. 

She would push it in then out then twist it back in and so on. This went on for a while until I was seconds away from coming but she’d stop. Each time she’d deny me release, I’d whine and she would push it back in again. The edging was beautifully painful. 

“For a first timer, you’re taking this cock so well baby.” 

“Please let me cum.” 

“Only if I fuck that thick ass too.” 

I lowered my chest to the bed and raised my ass up, “Fuck me mommy.” 

“Mm just like that baby. Keep that ass up for me.” 

I waited until I felt the other head of the dildo enter. Somehow it was less uncomfortable than my pussy. I nodded and she pushed more of the length inside. Now both of my holes were filled and the thought just drove me wild. Sarah used both hands to fuck me, one fucked my pussy and the other my ass. I was nothing but a moaning mess, begging for more. 

The sight of myself from the mirror was what made me squirt so much, it didn’t just hit the bed but also her chest. She laughed and fucked me even faster, I didn’t think I could cum again but I did. She removed the one in my ass and I thought my turn was done but instead she stuck her tongue in and licked whilst shoving the dildo deeper in my pussy. She spat into my ass and on my cunt as she kept on mercilessly drilling that dildo deeper and faster. I let out a loud scream as my entire body shook, went limp for a few seconds, then came on the cock. She pulled it out too fast, I moaned at its exit but her mouth was on my pussy to suck my cum. She ate me out for a moment then pressed a kiss and pulled away. 

“Holy shit Y/N! It was like a freaking waterfall.” She sat back on the bed and licked her lips. “Tasty though.” 

I laid on my stomach for a few minutes without saying a word then turned around and sat up. “Careful, fuck me like that again and you’ll ruin me.” 

“That’s the plan baby. You’re all mine.” She smiled and spread her legs apart, patting on her cunt. “Now fuck mommy too.” 

I took the dildo from her hand and asked, “Is it your first time too?” 

She nodded, “Yeah so please gentle first.” 

“I promise…” I started then finished, “…to ruin you too.” 

Before she could respond, I spread her pussy lips open then with a mouthful of saliva, I spit into the hole. I put the dildo inside slowly but it went in quite easily thanks to my spit in her pussy. I looked at her and she smiled so I pushed deeper a bit then pulled out. I pushed it in again and went deeper, I kept repeating these actions whilst spitting to keep her wet. Her pussy was so greedy, it happily swallowed the cock deeper. 

I now started to fuck her with it, slowly at first but when she begged for faster, I was unforgiving. I pounded that silicone purple cock into her wet needy pink walled pussy until she moaned endlessly for me. I put the other end in my mouth and fucked her that way instead, I bobbed my head faster and faster, equally fucking her and me. I was choking on it but I couldn’t stop, the sight of her cum dripping down the cock spurred me on. I sucked and fucked with all my strength but before I could move, she accidentally squirted and it got on my face. 

I pulled my mouth away with a loud gasp but I wasn't ready to end it yet. With half the dildo still inside Sarah, I got up and squatted as I slowly lowered myself onto the other half. She was propped against the pillows whilst I was now sitting on top of her, the two-sided dildo in both of us. I grabbed my own boobs and played with them as I rode her. I switched between grinding on the cock and bouncing on it, Sarah encouraged me, telling me how pretty I looked fucking her. We continued fucking each other for a long while, i simply enjoyed the feeling of a cock inside me so I prolonged it. Sarah and I each came twice but I kept riding and she begged for me to stop. 

“No, I want to keep riding.” 

“Please! I can’t cum anymore Y/N.” 

“But I like seeing you filled to the brim.” 

“Fuck Y/N, don’t say that.” 

“You like that? Wanna hear me say how full you look? How your hole is stuffed and your cunt is covered with our cum?” 

“Keep going, I’ll cum again.” 

“That’s it mommy. Cum on my pretty pussy. Look at your big tits bouncing around.” 

“Please keep going.” 

I reached down and gathered a bit of the cum then wiped it on her lips. I lowered my head and kissed her, my hips grinding forcefully against hers. She was quick to suck my bottom lip in so we tongued each other. Our boobs were slipping and sliding around, our cunts were squelching, it was all so hot. She came again and moaned into my mouth, we both cummed against each other but we also squirted. I pulled away and continued to ride slowly until I was satisfied and came to a stop. 

I lifted myself off of her and removed the dildo. I looked at Sarah with a satisfied smile. She pushed me back gently and brought her head to my cunt. With small kitten-like licks, she cleaned me up and sucked softly. I closed my eyes and slowly grinded on her lips, she continued until suddenly when I felt something else at my entrance. I opened my eyes and peered down to see her trying to fit her boob into my pussy. I chuckled and she quickly looked up at me, she reached me with a slow crawl. Sarah laid on top of me then placed her nipples on my mouth. 

“Be a good girl and clean mommy’s tits, they’re covered in your cum baby.” She instructed while holding onto her breasts. 

“Yes mommy, I love your boobs.” I said before sucking on one nipple then switching to the other. I continued doing this until Sarah was satisfied. 

We decided on getting cleaned up so while she changed her sheets, I went to her bathroom and started the shower. I came back and she was ready, we went to the shower together where we kissed once more and she inserted the dildo in me and sat on my lap as she rode it. All I could think of at the moment was thank goodness Kiara wasn’t here. I’d have missed out on fucking Sarah senseless and vice versa. Maybe Kiara just needed a good fuck too.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @softcoremaybank @klaustopia @dreamingwithrafe @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @impossibleheartflower @madetragic @spike-and-angels-gf

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[featherandferns]

5. “Ah Yes. Betrayl, I’m Familiar With That”

22. “You’re My Best Friend” Angst Pleaseee

🫂❤️‍🩹

21. "You're my best friend"

I've actually already done prompt 5 (read wasps here) and prompt 21 ("You're my best friend" is 21 not 22), so I just did an angsty prompt 21 instead of redoing both- I hope that's okay! <3

Season 4 spoilers kind of? Just episode 1 vibes.

Promise - prompt 21

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him. It ran deeper than his looks; penetrated through the flesh. His personality was interwoven with his beauty the way his veins lined his muscles and skin. All the idiosyncrasies that made him up in flaws and faults, like his recklessness and his impulsiveness, were nothing but charms in your eyes. He caused trouble wherever he went the way a hurricane accidentally leaves a wake in its path. You chased that trouble like a storm chaser: compass and map and get-away car at hand, just for him. 

By the wonder of fate, you ended up by his side. It was as though the universe placed you there - as if you and JJ were born from the same star dust, destined to find one another in the next life. From childhood, you were in the picture. Offering him a place to stay when his dad was in one of his blind, drunk rages. Giggling through pier jumping adventures and screaming through cheesy horror flicks. Later, older, he was there after your first “heartbreak” and you were there to hear about his cunning escapades with a random girl on the island, his virginity no longer a mark on his name. And with this age came realisations and ramifications. With this age came thoughts and feelings that were new and alien to you. The kind that warps one’s perception. The kind that frames someone in new ways under new titles. JJ Maybank went from being your snotty, scheming long-lasting friend, into your crush. The more time you spent in his orbit, the closer you were drawn. And so, as designed, you fell in love with him. 

He was hard to read and harder to decipher. A flirt, no doubt, though less so as the Pogue-centred adventures grew. His carelessness diminished somewhat when the stakes grew. When the sight of blood and dead bodies became shy of the norm, even compared to his youth in his father’s shadow. John B and Sarah went and with that, JJ came. Closer to you than ever. Needing you more than before. Restless nights and lonely days which you were more than happy to fill, needing him just as much. Nothing beyond cuddles and shared beds. A kiss that never strayed more than a cheek or forehead. Then, reunited with the formerly missing Pogues, came his lightness once more. But that distance didn’t come: he was still just as close. Almost attainable. Poguelandia and El Dorado felt like fever dreams in this light. The one constant was JJ, no matter what, and you the same for him. 

Now, settled, JJ’s old Maybank home rebuilt and remade, the bait-and-surf shop up and running, the gang tethered together through trauma and triumph: you finally felt like everything was falling into place, the same way you had fallen for JJ. 

“I might just sleep out here tonight,” JJ tells you. He’s lying by your side on the newly fixed up boat. The two of you are staring up at the sky, slowly starting to fill with stars, slowly losing the colour of daylight. 

“You’ll be dinner for the skeeters,” you say. 

He shrugs. “Circle of life, I guess.”

Laughing quietly, you turn your head. His hair is short again - dirty blonde, sunkissed highlights. The small jut of his chin and the slope of his nose. The high press of his cheekbones from his small, lingering smile. At the feel of your gaze, he turns his head too. An air of amusement brushes over him; has him almost laughing, quirking a brow. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” you hum. Your own smile falters and your stomach churns. The words are brewing deep within you like a slow, roasting broth. They’d been there for years now, waiting to slip out, and you felt like you can’t hold it down much longer. JJ’s own smile fades into a look of worry, mirroring your own anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you repeat, lying. “I just…I’m just happy.”

His lips twitch upward again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m happy you finally have a home, JJ,” you quietly say. 

Visibly moved by your sentiment, his hand reaches out for yours, lying limp on the cool plastic exterior of the boat. He squeezes your hand in his. Smiles at you. Holds your gaze. As if drawn in by some outside force, you lean over. Your eyes slip shut and your lips find his, and there, you plant a gentle, soft kiss. It’s no more than a peck. No more than a fleeting, almost phantom moment of weakness. Lingering, lips no more than a centimetre from his, you wait. Wait for some absolution that you hoped might come. 

JJ clears his throat. His hand slips from yours. Your heart cracks like the break of an ice surface as he sits up, sort of hurried. You sit up too. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, knowing fully well what the answer is. 

JJ is reaching for his boots that he took off an hour or so ago. He meddles with the laces. Not looking at you, he mumbles, “why’d you have to do that?”

“What?”

“Everything was…God, why the fuck did you have to do that?” he repeats, frustrated, maybe even angry. 

Your eyes sting and your heart burns and it starts to feel as though you’re slipping away from yourself. “I don’t know. I just…I just figured–”

“--Well, you shouldn’t have,” JJ snaps, his head darting up. Your eyes meet his and there’s this panic there, deep and damning. You feel damned. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. Sorry for what? For kissing him? For thinking that he might feel the same? For hoping that he might? 

JJ shakes his head and looks back at his boots. His frantic movements stop, fingers mixed with his laces. “Why’d you have to do that, huh? Everything was finally how it should be and now…Now it’s all messed up.”

“Messed up? No, no, it doesn’t…We can just forget about it,” you hurriedly say. You grab at his forearm, wanting his attention, now for a whole new reason. “We can just pretend it never happened.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know. I just thought that maybe, with everything that’s happened, maybe you might feel the same way,” you stammer. 

JJ’s eyes slip shut. It’s as though you gave him the diagnosis to a disease he always dreaded. “We can’t.”

You’re not sure what he’s alluding to with that. We can’t pretend it never happened? We can’t move forward? We can’t be friends? 

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”

JJ gnaws at his lower lip. You sit and wait and hope and pray that you haven’t managed to tear apart years of friendship with one stupid moment of idiocy. Ironic how JJ lived his life in spur-of-the-moment choices but the second you make one, it might haunt you forever. Eventually, as if in slow motion, he looks at you. There’s a sadness in his eyes as though he knows what he says will pain you, and your heart takes pause as you wait. His lips move wordlessly at first and then, sighing, he finds the words. 

“I’m in love with Kiara.”

You feel like bleeding ink on a page. Like you have no mass or place of purchase. Like any meaning you ascribed to anything is now without, soulless and baseless; a work of fiction, like some Shakesperian tragedy. 

“Oh,” you breathe. 

He nods. “I…I’m sorry, I just…I don’t feel that way for you.”

“Okay,” you murmur. You think you might throw up. You shift in your spot as if preparing to. JJ reaches out a hand and it burns when he touches yours. 

“I don’t want to lose you though. I do love you, but the love I feel for her is different. I’m sorry, I don’t know why, I just–”

“--JJ, please,” you beg. You force yourself to look him in the eyes. He’s terrified of everything. Always has been, as long as you’ve known him. More than anything, terrified of love. And you know what that means, for him to care so deeply for someone. You know that he needs you. And you know that, despite everything, you need him. It hurts to be something but it’s worse to be nothing, after all. 

Somewhere deep inside of you, you find a smile. A forced, placid smile, like a lady-in-waiting might wear. Your other hand envelopes his and you will the tears away. 

“I’m your best friend,” you assure him. The words are sour like acid on your tongue. It feels like blasphemy. Nodding, as if trying to make yourself believe it too, you say, “we can forget the whole thing.”

A relieved smile comes to JJ’s face like a breath of air after free diving. He leans back, nods, happy, overjoyed, appeased. 

“Thank God. Cause I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really don’t,” he says, meaning every word. Maybe that’s what hurts the most. 

Nodding, agreeing, you say, “Kiara would be an idiot if she didn’t want you, too.”

Smiling to himself, his head dips, abashed, and you know then and there that he’d never be that way for you. He gets up and as his hand slips form your hold, it feels like you’re losing him forever. Once again, he’s reframed. Different again. No longer your crush, no longer your future, and no longer your best friend. He’s a mirage. He isn’t real. You no longer know what to call him or how to name your connection. Because as he walks away, bidding you goodnight, heading to the house where Kiara sleeps soundly, beautiful and brilliant, you begin to cry, knowing that you would never be able to forget it, and yet knowing that you had to. 

JJ Maybank was designed for you to fall in love with him, but he was never designed to love you back.

[thatmrmiller]

Every Man Gets his Wish

Warnings: 18+ smut, significant age gap, virgin!reader, kinda purity/corruption kink, problematic conversations around the hetero-normative concept of virginity, unprotected sex, power imbalance, cheating, blackmail/ coercion, noncon, forced breeding. Dead Dove, very creepy content, overall discretion advised.

WC: 3.1k

A/N: credit to @serenaxpedro for the prompt, what an idea... Title is from the unreleased Lana song!

Sarah Miller was your college roommate. You became friends quickly, she was bubbly and personable and you felt as though you had known her for years.

Soon it turned into something else, you weren't sure you were necessarily official, but you fooled around together and dated. Then, one weekend, she invited you to go home with her.

So there you were, in her childhood bedroom. Her dad was out and you were both hanging out the window, sharing a joint. She was giggly at the best of times but combined with the weed, she was downright ridiculous.

"Shhh!" You urged. "What if he comes home?"

"You think he didn't smoke weed in his twenties?" She laughs.

"That's different, you- We-" She pulls a silly expression, waiting for you to go on, but you burst out into laughter before you can finish your thought.

After the joint is finished you lay in bed together, her on her back with her head on the pillow and you on your stomach next to her, kicking your legs up in the air behind you.

You point out a poster on the wall "Who the hell is that?" You ask.

She laughs and gets out her phone. "A band I was obsessed with when I was younger. Listen."

She plays a terrible song, an angsty boyband and you laugh along with her.

You hadn't even heard her dad's truck pull up or him enter the house.

"I had such a crush on him." She admits, showing you a photo of one of the band members.

"Gross." You say.

"I thought you liked guys too?" She responds.

"I do, I guess, but I'm picky."

"What do you mean by picky?"

"Well... I've slept with probablyyyy..." You drag out the word. "I don't know. A few girls at least. But never a guy."

She laughs. "So you're a virgin?"

You throw a pillow at her softly. "I'm not a-" You laugh too. "I'm not a virgin. There's nothing that says you must sleep with a dude to lose your virginity."

She hums, unconvinced.

Neither of you are aware that her dad is standing right outside the bedroom door. He hadn't even meant to snoop, he was just going to knock and tell you he was home. But he was interested in the conversation and listened in.

"I just have never met a guy I was remotely interested in sleeping with. They're so. Bleh." You pull a face as you make the mocking sound and she laughs.

"Well you're in college now so I'm sure that will change."

"College boys are no better than high school boys. They all suck." You giggle.

"I'm hungry." She announces, and jumps off the bed.

Just then, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.

"Can I come in?" A gruff voice sounds.

Your eyes widen in panic, worried he will come in, smell the weed, and lose his shit. You know your own dad would. Sarah sees your nerves and rolls her eyes at you.

"What is it?" She responds.

The door opens and you see Sarah's dad for the first time. He is tall and broad, visibly muscular under his tight dark tshirt. You look away, worried you were staring. But then again, you're high, and paranoid, and you probably weren't.

"Just came in to say I'm home. You girls need anything?" He asks.

"Food." Sarah says quickly. Too quickly. You shoot her a look.

He just laughs, muttering "I wonder why." Then he continues, "Well I went to the store today. There's chips, and, other stuff, I think."

She is already pushing past him.

He watches her go and then his gaze turns to you. He is smirking. He must be able to tell you are squirming with anxiety.

"I don't care about the weed." He says.

Your eyes are still wide in panic. You don't know what to respond.

He walks further into the room, still watching you.

"So..." He says. "You're Sarah's... Girlfriend?"

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Shouldn't you ask her that?" You say. Admittedly, it maybe comes out ruder than you intended.

He laughs and whistles. "Alright. Feisty. I see why she likes you."

You don't respond. You continue to stare at him. You don’t know what he wants from you, and the whole ‘Cool Dad’ thing isn’t particularly impressive to you.

He licks his lips. “Anyway, from what I hear, sounds like you’re a good girl. So I don’t mind.”

You wonder what he means by that and realise he must have heard the conversation that you were having just before he came in. If it was possible, you feel yourself blushing harder.

His gaze is practically painful, you feel so embarrassed. The look on his face tells you that he knows this, and something else behind his eyes tells you he might even be enjoying it.

“I liked what I heard.” He says. You can see his gaze wandering all over you, you are only wearing a vest and shorts. “Always better to skip messing around with boys and wait for a man.”

You don’t meet his eye.

Sarah’s footsteps approach and he goes to leave the room, shooting you a wink.

She enters with her arms ladened with chips, soda, and candy.

You laugh at the sight of her. She closes the door behind herself with her foot.

“What did he want?” She asks, dropping her stash on the bed.

“Oh umm…” You try and think of what to say. “Just asking how school’s going.”

She laughs. “Surprising. He doesn’t take an interest in my degree.”

You just smile back and shrug. You feel bad about lying but you don’t know how to explain that you think her dad might have been creeping on you.

You lay in bed together, eating snacks and playing on your phones.

After a while, you’re thirsty. “I need water.” You say.

“Go help yourself.” She says, smiling.

“What if your dad’s downstairs?” You ask.

“It doesn’t matter.” She responds.

“But-”

“Don’t be a baby.” She taunts. “You can go to the kitchen without me holding your hand.”

You hit her playfully. She knows you’re not even shy so you don’t have a good excuse as to why you don’t want to go down alone.

You groan loudly and stand up.

“Can I at least get a sweater? I feel naked.”

She gestures to one strewn over her chair.

“Thanks.” You say. You put it on and it drowns you, covering your shorts.

You tiptoe down to the first floor quietly, not wanting your movements around the house to be easily noticeable.

You hear the television on as you get to the bottom of the stairs and realise he is in the living room, you would have to walk directly past him to get to the kitchen.

You flash him a smile as you pass, and he stares at you. You turn round when you enter the kitchen and he’s still staring, his eyes glued to your ass. He doesn’t even try to be subtle. Gross.

You find the cupboard that contains the glasses and run the tap. You jump as you turn round and find he is standing there, only the kitchen island separating you.

“Cute sweater.” He says, pointing at your chest.

“Umm…” You look down. It has the name of a baseball team on it. “It’s Sarah’s.”

“Actually, it’s mine.” He corrects.

“Oh. Sorry. She gave it to me.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, darlin’. Looks good. Keep it.” He says, nodding.

You don’t argue, but it’s not like you are actually going to keep it. You’ll just take it right back off and give it to Sarah. You only put it on so you didn’t attract his attention. It unfortunately had the opposite effect.

You have dealt with creepy guys before, but you have never been in their house. It is so much more intimidating. The fact he was attractive made it harder too, drawing you to him despite the obvious danger he posed.

You offer him a stiff smile and go to make your way round the kitchen counter and past him. He sidesteps and blocks your path.

An awkward laugh escapes you, and you look up at him.

He watches you, smiling. The tension is getting to you. He doesn’t make any move out of your way.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper.

“What? Nothing, sweetheart.” He says, frowning in confusion.

For a moment, you thought he was being genuine and you think you might have been reading this all wrong. Guilt twinges at you and you consider the situation. Maybe he was just lonely and awkward. Maybe Sarah didn’t have people round often and he was genuinely trying to be welcoming in his own way.

But he still doesn’t move.

“Excuse me.” You whisper.

He reaches a hand out to touch your face. You recoil but he pursues you, taking another step closer.

He runs his thumb across your lips.

“Funny. What you said earlier about being a virgin. It’s so obvious to me now.” He says.

You freeze in place, feeling your face heating in shock and embarrassment.

“There’s this… Look in your eyes. And how shy and embarrassed you get, how much you blush.” He says softly. One of his hands is gently stroking at your face, his thumb still tracing your bottom lip.

You try not to meet his eye, desperately looking for something else to focus on.

“Maybe you could use a lesson.” He muses.

“Mr Miller I-”

He finally steps away. “Hey, no pressure. I’m just kidding.”

Then, as you walked away, he slapped your ass.

You curse yourself for moments ago considering giving him the benefit of the doubt. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You couldn’t turn to face him so you scurried back up the stairs. You heard him chuckle behind you and your skin crawled. What was this guy’s problem?

You slammed the door behind you after hurrying into Sarah’s room.

“Woah.” She says, looking up to take in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

She reaches out to you and you climb onto the bed beside her.

You try to smile but it’s stiff and you feel closer to tears than anything.

“I don’t know. Bad weed I think. I feel so weird.”

You couldn’t tell her what was going on with Mr Miller. You barely understood yourself, never mind trying to explain it.

“Come here, chicken.” She says, reaching out and pulling you into her chest. You laughed a little at the nickname you had for each other.

Her sweet scent and warmth lulls you to sleep.

You wake up in the early hours of the morning needing to use the bathroom.

You pad barefoot across the hall and into the main bathroom. As you wash your hands, there is a soft knock at the door. You are still dazed from sleep and you open it.

You are instantly pushed backwards and the door closes again. Mr Miller.

He presses you into the counter immediately. He seems to have been drinking the whole time you have been asleep, his eyes a little glazed over and his movements slightly off balance.

“How you doin’?” He slurs.

“I’m fine, please-” He grinds into you, you are pinned against the counter and both his arms are either side of you, caging you in.

“Please, don’t do this.” You plead.

“What?” He says. “What don’t you want me to do?”

“I don’t know- just, any of this, please. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I think you did ask for it, baby. Think you’ve been asking for it all night. You came into my house, you bragged about never having been fucked before, and you expect me not to take that as a challenge? Paraded around in my clothes in front of me, with your ass out like a whore? Huh? That’s not asking for it?”

You feel tears forming in your eyes. “Bragging? No, honestly, that was a private conversation. One that you were not supposed to be involved in.”

“This is my house. Nothing that happens under my roof is private from me. Don’t be disrespectful.” He spits.

Your fear and discomfort turns into frustration. “Is this what you do? Force yourself on all of Sarah’s guests? I should go tell her.”

You try to push past him but he grabs both of your wrists and pushes his groin harder against you. You can practically taste the alcohol on his breath because of how close he is to you.

“Maybe I’ll go tell her you tried it on with me. She’ll be heartbroken, doll. You’re a real catch.”

You glare at him. This is fully-fledged blackmail.

“And then what ya’ gonna do?” He continues. “College is a long way off. So is home. It’s the middle of the night.”

You swallow your retort, realising he is right. You are technically stuck here, at least until the morning. You try a different tactic, sighing deeply.

“Listen, Mr. Miller, I’m really sorry for all this. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I, I don't want this. Can we just agree to forget all this, please? For Sarah?”

His eyes flash with something violent.

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“Please Mr-”

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps.

“Why?” You say sweetly.

He grabs your hand and forces it against the hard bulge in his jeans. “Because you’re turning me on.”

You could always yell out to Sarah.

As if reading your mind, he brings a hand to your mouth and presses down, covering it. His other hand works it’s way into your shorts. You squirm and try to kick at him but he’s strong and holds you in place.

“No one’s had you before?” He says. “Really?”

He isn’t looking for an answer, as he doesn’t take his hand away that is gripping your mouth.

“I haven’t fucked a virgin in years.” He says.

Your skin crawls at the thought as he continues to rub the outside of your underwear. You are doing all you can to avert your gaze and avoid his eyes, not wanting to see the sick look of pleasure he is bound to have behind them.

His fingers are rubbing through your folds, it is unpleasant, you aren’t getting wet because you are so uncomfortable. He takes his hand out and spits on it before forcing it back into your underwear, roughly inserting two fingers inside you.

He groans as he pushes them inside of you, you continue to whimper against the hand he has pressed to your mouth. He curls his fingers deep inside you and the stretch is painful.

He flashes you a dangerous look and hisses "Don't make a sound."

He removes the hand covering your mouth and you are intimidated into doing as he says, keeping quiet.

With both hands he tears off your shorts and underwear, and spins you round so your ass faces him and you are looking in the mirror.

You close your eyes, not wanting to see him or yourself as the situation unfolds. You feel him unzipping his jeans behind you and the heavy weight of his erect cock hits your ass. You feel him stroke himself a few times before gripping your thighs and spreading them apart, lifting one of your knees up to the counter and shifting himself to enter inside of you.

"Please don't-" You whimper, your voice weak and quiet.

He hisses at you to be quiet again.

He rubs his cock through your folds a couple of times before bringing it to your entrance. You gasp as he pushes it into you mercilessly, you are tight and unprepared. He stuffs himself inside you all the way to the hilt and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

He immediately sets an aggressive pace, not a care for your discomfort as you squirm under him. His hands grip you roughly, holding you as still as possible to allow him to have his way with you.

After a while, you get used to the feeling and grow numb to the pain of his huge cock piercing into you. He breathes heavily in your ear and you cringe at the intimate sounds, trying your best to shut out all of the sensations, trying not to feel, not to hear, not to watch as he does this.

“Look at yourself, fuckin’ slut.” He says. He pulls your hair so as to lift your head up, forcing you face to face with yourself in the mirror. “Every girl’s good till she takes the right cock. Then look. Turns you all into filthy fuckin’ whores.”

Your expressions are pornographic. Your brows are pulled together and your eyes are practically glazed over. You look cock drunk and ridiculous. You barely have it in you to be ashamed of yourself, as you are starting to enjoy what he is doing to you.

“You’re gonna think of me every time you take another cock.” He hisses in your ear. “You’re never gonna have anyone again without wishing it was me fucking this tight little cunt.”

You don't respond, your eyes drifting closed. He grips your face roughly. "Keep them open. Watch yourself. You like it."

He shows no mercy with his rough thrusts, but his pace eventually begins to slow. "Gonna fill you with my cum. You want that?"

You look at him in panic and he seems to enjoy that, a twisted grin appearing on his face once again.

"P-Please, no-" You stutter. "Please don't-"

"Shut up and take it." He grunts, his thrusts somehow feeling deeper than ever as he ruts into you.

After a few moments he releases a strangled groan and stills inside you. You feel his hot release leaking into you and you let out a sob. He watches you in glee as he pulls out and your legs shake, struggling to steady yourself against the counter.

He tucks his cock into his jeans and you keep your eyes pressed shut, you can't look at him.

“You’re welcome back any time, honey.” He says.

He exits the bathroom and you are left to deal with your girlfriend’s dad’s cum dripping down your inner thighs.

ThatMrMiller Masterlist

[amandabbbbb]

omg can you write Sarah best friend!reader, and rafe and reader pretend to hate each other in front of all they’re friends but behind close doors they are like friends with benefits

this is kinda different from what you asked! hope you still like <3 rafe teases reader a ton bc he wants her sooo bad idk i added a little smut so I guess that’s a warning!!!!!

“gimme that back, rafe!” you shouted.

“y/n, if you keep drinking, you will be a fucking mess like you always are,” rafe said in a sarcastic tone, snatching the drink out of your hand.

“sarah, tell him to give it back to me. your brother’s the worst,” you exclaimed.

you never understood why he was always so mean to you but never to your other friends. sarah and all your friends laughed at how much rafe would annoy you. it was like you and rafe’s weird friendship had become a norm that everyone was used to and would laugh at. he never wanted to be mean to you, but he literally couldn’t help it. rafe found you so pretty and cute, just the lovely, kind girl who was attached to sarah’s hip. he never knew how to approach you. his shyness turned into meanness every time he was in your presence.

“don’t you have your own pool, y/n? seriously, all your tanning oil is clogging up our drains!” he actually loved the tanning oil that would make your perfect skin glisten when he would watch you roll around in the sun, trying to hide his hard on.

topper laughed, “why are you always so mean to y/n? she’s literally the nicest out of all of sarah’s friends!”

rafe rolled his eyes, knowing deep down he was only mean to you because he couldn’t have you. you thought he was so dumb and annoying, but cute.

sarah went to bed. you couldn’t sleep, kind of annoyed by the way rafe was treating you. he was always mean to you, but extra mean today. you were mean to him too, but never could keep up with his cruelty. you stayed up watching your favorite show, jersey shore.

“this snooki girl is just as annoying as you, y/n!” he said as he threw himself down on the couch a little too close to you.

“rafe, i think i’m running out of shut ups to throw at you,” you replied.

the silence in the big tannyhill living room became awkward.

“you know i like you, y/n?” he blurted out.

you laughed, “you’re kinda funny sometimes, you know that?”

“no, i’m fucking serious. i want you so bad,” rafe stated with a strict look.

for a moment, you were taken aback. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. you realized he wasn’t joking. your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building between you two.

“okay, this is… weird. what about sarah?” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“i don’t give a fuck about sarah,” rafe said angrily.

before you could say anything else, rafe leaned in and kissed you. it was rough at first, a release of all the pent-up frustration and desire.

his hands roamed over your body, tugging at your clothes impatiently. you helped him, eager to feel his skin against yours. when he finally pushed himself inside you, it was raw and passionate, a collision of need and longing. you gasped at the sensation, your nails digging into his back as he moved inside you.

“rafe,” you whispered, your voice filled with need.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your skin.

afterward, you lay next to him, both of you breathing heavily.

“you’re not so bad when you’re not being a dick, rafe,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes, pulling you closer, not wanting to let go of you. “yeah, well, maybe this changes a few things.”

[hrizantemy]

Sarah J. Maas had the perfect opportunity to create a feminine character who truly embodied the societal pressures placed on women, and Nesta was the ideal candidate for that story. Nesta’s entire upbringing was shaped by her mother’s rigid expectations of what a “proper woman” should be���refined, detached, emotionally guarded. Instead of exploring that arc and allowing Nesta to grow beyond these constraints in a way that felt true to her character, Maas chose to throw her into a fighting ring, dressed in tight clothes she was uncomfortable with and wielding a sword she never wanted to use.

Nesta’s journey could have been about challenging the ideals her mother forced onto her—learning how to define her own worth, embracing her unique strengths, and showing that power doesn’t always have to be physical. She was someone who had the potential to confront societal norms in a more thoughtful way, representing women who reject the expectations of beauty, gentleness, or warrior-like strength and find their own path. There was so much opportunity to delve into her emotional complexity, her intellectual sharpness, and her struggle with trauma without forcing her into a mold of physical combat.

By pushing Nesta into a role that revolved around fighting and combat, Maas missed the chance to highlight that strength comes in many forms. Instead of showing Nesta’s personal growth through reclaiming her voice, her boundaries, or her inner resilience, her character arc became about mastering a sword and becoming physically strong, something she never even sought. It felt like a forced narrative shift, taking away the chance for Nesta to evolve into a character who could represent the strength of defying expectations, not conforming to a different set of them.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part six

“I’m sad again, don’t tell my girlfriend”

A/N: fun fact about the little black cat in the moodboard! It’s actually my friend’s cat Artemis 🥺 love that little fur baby to the moon and back! Don’t let the title fool y’all…it’s a little sad of a chapter but don’t worry!! Everything is going to be fine!! I pinky promise 💗

~word count: 4.0k~

Summary: Joel opens up to you about his past at Brazzers and before he met you

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, established relationship, discussions of toxic societal norms, the adult film industry, past relationships, grief, intimacy, communication, unconditional love, unprotected piv, cock warming, mentions of alcohol, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Calloused fingertips gently pluck wire guitar strings that once were coated in a fine layer of dust. Muscle memory takes over with each gentle thrum of the chords. He hasn’t played in years, the temptation arising, but never fulfilled. He used to play for Sarah, unable to say no when she’d curl up in his lap and watch him lightly pluck the strings. Carmen would watch from the kitchen, a soft smile etched on her face seeing Joel and her daughter bonding so soon.

Whad’ya wanna hear tonight, babygirl? Should we play your ma’s favorite?

Sarah curled up with her cheek pressed against Joel’s chest, his chin came to rest along the top of her head of curls as her small fingers reached out to pluck one of the strings, the baby song, Joelie! She giggled softly, and Joel’s heart melted into a puddle.

I love you, baby

And if it's quite alright

I need you, baby

To warm the lonely night

I love you, baby…

He can never say no to you, not when you look at him with those eyes, and in a honeyed tone asking him to play you a song while you’re sitting side by side, the comforting crackle and pops from the fire pit, a light quilt draped across your thighs, and Artemis curled up in your lap, purring happily.

“Whad’ya wanna hear, baby love?” He rasps, turning his head to the side, resting his chin along his shoulder as he looks over at you.

“Something that makes you feel, Joel.”

He swallowed the growing lump rising in his throat, glancing downwards towards his fingers lightly plucking the strings, “Somethin’ that makes me…feel?” His throat felt parched, brows furrowed inwards. “Okay.” He said softly, inhaling a lungful of air, clearing his airways. “I’m shit at singin’, jus’ so you know, baby love.”

“Don’t care, Joel. I wanna hear you.” You said softly, knee brushing against his as you rested your cheek against the cushion, a gentle expression on your face, eyes soft and holding adoration.

His fingers trembled under the soft glow from the fire as he began to strum the chords, To Make You Feel My Love. He was a bit rusty at first, missing a few notes here and there, till he fell back into a comfortable familiarity.

When the rain's blowing in your face, and the whole world is on your case, I would offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong, I've known it from the moment that we met, there’s no doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue, I'd go crawling down the avenue, there ain't nothing that I wouldn't do, to make you feel my love, mm…

His voice was warm, raspy and lulling. It held a gentle timbre that sent a warm tingle down your spine, tugging on your heartstrings in tandem.

He stumbled over the next verse, voice cracking and fingers losing their grip on the strings. He didn’t realize he was crying, hot wet tears streaming down his cheeks until he felt your gentle palm on his jaw.

Storms— are raging on a rolling sea, down the highway of regret—

“Joel.” You said softly, thumb brushing across his cheekbone, brushing away his tears that were flowing like a river, “Joel, hey. Look at me, baby. Look at me.”

“I—I’m sorry.” He choked, “I-I’m jus’ a bit rusty is all, baby love. S’been years since I’ve played this old thing.” He sniffled, jaw clenching and unclenching as you smoothed your thumb back and forth across his damp skin.

“Joel.” You reiterated soft, yet firm.

“I don’t even understand why I’m cryin’. Where did those tears come from? They weren’t there before. Must jus’ have somethin’ in my eye. Maybe it’s the smoke from the fire—” he rambled on.

“Joel Miller.”

That seemed to catch his attention as he met your gaze, blinking a few times with dark lashes wet and glistening. His lower lip wobbled and you had never seen him like this before, never this vulnerable, never this scared. Never this afraid of judgement that would never fall upon his shoulders, because you loved him unconditionally. No amount of fat tears, or stuttered speech would deter you from loving him.

“C’mere.” You said in understanding, gently prying the guitar from his grasp and coaxed him into your awaiting arms.

He wordlessly wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly with his face buried against your neck. His hands slipped under the back of your hoodie, feeling desperate for skin to skin contact to further soothe his emotions. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, hot breath fanning your neck, tears soaking into the neckline of your hoodie.

“Joel, what are you sorry for? Because of your emotions?…baby, it’s OK. You don’t have to apologize for being emotional. That is nothing to be sorry for.” You said softly, letting one hand rest at the back of his head, gently scratching his scalp with your nails while the other was rubbing circles against his back.

“I know—I jus’, I got caught up in the moment s’all. It really has been years since I last played…” he trailed off.

“Do you want to talk about it?…”

“Yeah.” He sniffled, fingers gently flexing along your lower back. “I do—I jus’ need a minute.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I understand, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” You reassured him.

She loves me, for me. She’s holding me, and wiping my tears. She sees me, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now than here in her arms.

“I know.” He whispered, “I ain’t goin’ anywhere either, baby love.”

You nodded in understanding, gently brushing away a loose curl that fell across his forehead. “For all your pretty, and all of your ugly, I’m here.”

He took a few minutes to compose himself, racking through memories in his brain that were flashing like images on a silver screen. When he and Tommy went back home to Austin, Joel had reentered the dating culture expecting success, and was met with the complete opposite. Women in Texas had opposing values compared to the women he encountered in LA. It had gotten to the point where he was beginning to truly believe that he wasn’t deserving of love or partnership.

“If you want women to like you, I suggest that you seriously consider finding a new career that doesn’t exploit women for their bodies. You didn’t actually think that you’d get a free pass, did you?” His date sitting across from him laughed and reached for her purse in a haste.

He felt defeated and beaten down as he sunk further against the the back of the chair, “If you would just let me explain why I chose this career, and that I am not exploiting women for their bodies—”

“You fuck for a living, Joel. It’s disgusting. Good luck to you, cause you’re gonna need it.” She said unkindly, slinging her purse over her shoulder and walked off.

He ground his jaw back and forth, clenching his teeth together as he felt the bitter sting of rejection pierce his heart out that was laid out on his sleeve. He reached for his wallet, suddenly feeling a dozen pairs of eyes on him in the intimate restaurant. Heat spread from his neck to his face in a bright flush of embarrassment and shame.

He paid the bill, apologizing profusely to the waitress both verbally and with a handsome tip. He gathered up his feelings, tucking them back away into a box as he swiped his thumb across the side of his nose, feeling tears begin to prick and pool.

“Joel, you just haven’t met the right one yet.” Tommy tried to explain to him over a couple beers in Joel’s backyard. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Ain’t worth it.”

Joel scoffed under his breath, taking a swig from the beer bottle as he shook his head, “Tommy, you don’t understand. Women like you. They think you’re charming and barely bat an eye when you tell them about your job, but me? As soon as the words ‘adult film industry’’, or ‘pornstar’ come out, the narrative flips. And I am apparently not a feminist, I’m a disgusting person who exploits women for their bodies and I’m a pervert.” He laughed bitterly, feeling angry tears threatening to spill over,

“How is anyone going to see my heart if they’re not willing to look past what I do for a living?” He sniffled, “I jus’ have so much fuckin’ love to give, and no one wants it, Tommy. No one.”

Tommy shakes his head, dejected, devastated for his big brother. "I don't know, Joel. But if anyone is meant for love, real, true love, it's you. So I have to hold out hope."

-

You continued to gently pet his hair and while he silently worked through gathering his thoughts. You would sit out there with him for hours if he needed more time.

“Do you ever…have memories that jus’ pop up outta nowhere? Like, you’re jus’ goin’ about your day, and you just stop because you remembered something, or a memory pops up?” He suddenly said, eyes flickering to your gaze.

“More often than I’d like to admit.” You confirmed, encouraging him to continue.

“I wasn’t lyin’ when I said I haven’t played guitar in a long time. We’re talkin’ years. I’ve lost track if I’m bein’ honest. Anyway, memories of my past just creep in every now and then, and I want you—to know those pieces of me.”

“And playing guitar brought those memories to the surface? That’s understandable, Joel.”

He nodded, confirming your assumptions. “Yeah, exactly that. Anyway, I don’t know where to start I guess?”

“Wherever you feel most comfortable?” You suggested.

“Well, remember how I told you that I quit Brazzers on my 30th birthday? I did more than just quit. I pulled a complete 180 on my life in a matter of hours.” He started, taking a deep breath before he continued, “I was in a serious relationship at the time with someone who I had seriously considered spending the rest of my life with, y’know?”

“I understand, Joel.” You said softly.

“My girlfriend, Carmen and I were together for a few years. I met her on my 27th birthday at some bar close to the apartment Tommy and I were living in at the time. It started off casual if I’m being honest. I was apprehensive of telling her about my job because I knew that it probably would be poorly received. We just—we clicked. I felt like I could be myself around her and vice versa. We started getting serious at some point, and I finally told her that I was a pornstar. She initially took it a lot better than I expected, but she had a secret of her own to tell me.”

You couldn’t help the smile that was slowly tugging on the corner of your lips as you listened to Joel recounting memories from his past before he met you.

“That secret happened to be her 6 year old daughter, Sarah. She was the sweetest kid, baby love. She was a little shy at first, but I took the possibility of being her stepfather in stride.” He glanced downwards, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he was going to smile. “I loved that little girl like she was my own. And I truly wanted Carmen and I to work out, but she never accepted me for who I was. She resented the fact that I was a pornstar, and that ultimately led to me breaking up with her. I didn’t want to fight for someone who wasn’t going to fight for me, y’know?”

“I think it’s completely understandable why you broke up with her, Joel. I think one of the bare minimum expectations in a relationship is acceptance of who you are from your partner. I could see if you were doing something harmful to either yourself or her or others, but she had no right to judge you for the choices you made in your life.” You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers through his hand gave it a gentle squeeze. “Isn’t that what we all want in life? Is acceptance for who we are?”

“I think it was also only a matter of time before one of us was going to cut the cord. And I truly believe if I didn’t quit Brazzers that day, her and I would have still been together, but I imagine it was inevitable for us to break up. I wasn’t even mad at her for it either. I was…disappointed because I loved her unconditionally. I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her, and I just had to accept that she wouldn’t do the same for me.” He sighed, brushing his thumb across the outside of your hand in a gentle sweep.

“Did you end up telling her that you quit working at Brazzers?”

He shook his head, lips curving downwards into a frown as he met your gaze once more, “no. I never told her that I quit because she would have believed that I quit for her when that wasn’t the case. I didn’t want to compromise who I was just to appease her. And I have a feeling that if I did tell her I quit, we wouldn’t have broken up, and that would have benefited no one. It fuckin’ hurt like hell afterwards though. I jus’ remember Tommy coming back from his smoke break and he found me on my knees outside on the patio just this blubbering fuckin’ mess.” He stifled a chuckle.

“You realized that you deserved better, Joel. Not everyone comes to that realization, but you did. Life’s too short to be with someone who won’t be there for you the way that you were for them. But of course it hurt, and I can only imagine the pain that you felt after the fact because you thought that this person was your endgame. You already had the mindset of fully settling down with her, and then you had to make the tough decision with both her feelings in mind and your own. And you know what? I’m proud of you.”

He had an incredulous look plastered on his face when you said that you were proud of him. “You’re…what? I don’t understand. Why—why are you proud of me for that?”

“Because instead of staying in a relationship that was never going to work out, no matter how hard you tried, you pulled the plug and told yourself that you deserved better. And you do, Joel. It’s no one’s business to know why you chose the career path that you did. To shame and judge you for something that they’ll never understand because society views sex work as something to feel shamed for. It goes against the ideal norms that have been instilled in us since birth. People don’t like that, Joel. And that’s not to say that Carmen wasn’t good to you in some capacity, but the resentment was there and nothing was going to change that.”

“Yeah, and the person who I do deserve is sitting right across from me. I wouldn’t have met you if I didn’t pull the plug when I did. Maybe I would have never quit Brazzers and moved back to Austin to start Miller-Co. Maybe you and I…would have never met. Because you? You—fuckin’ get me. From the second that you and I met, I just got this feeling in my chest that you were going to have a major impact on my life, baby love. And as cliche as it’s gonna fuckin’ sound, I believe that everything happens for a reason.” He breathed out, big brown eyes glassy, his nose twitching as he let out a soft sniffle.

“Alright, who’s cutting the onions now? Is it you, or is it Artie?” You softly giggled, fighting through your own brewing tears because you had never loved someone so deeply till you met Joel. It was surreal to feel an instant connection to someone, but he made things easy in the sense that you could be yourself around him. You found that you could speak your mind, you could be passionate, sad, angry, happy, and he never made you feel small for your larger than life feelings. Never made you feel like you were too much, or too little. His love for you was effortless, unconditional.

“I mean it, baby love. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve never laughed more with another person than I do with you. I’ve never felt more honest with myself and my feelings till you walked into my life. I tried dating here and there shortly after I ended things with Carmen because I just wanted to feel something again, y’know? I just didn’t realize how judgemental people could be till I left LA. It got to the point where I felt like maybe all the women telling me that I should be ashamed, and I’m this disgusting pervert were right. Maybe a man like me isn’t deserving of love. Tommy reassured me that I just hadn’t met the right one, and he was right. I hadn’t met you yet.”

Ring. Ring. Ring. I need a fucking ring. He thought to himself.

This is going to be the man I’m going to marry, right? Please tell me he’s the one. I don’t want to do this all over again with someone else. He’s my person. I know he is. You thought.

Neither of you were sure who leaned in first, or if it was just a gravitational pull between your bodies that drew you both in, but suddenly you felt his hot breath fanning your lips, and those dark espresso colored eyes reflecting the warm glow from the crackling fire staring directly into your soul. If only you had known that he wished at that moment that he had a ring.

And when your lips met, slotting together like two puzzle pieces, it was brief due to a soft meow from your lap and Artemis had crawled her way between you and Joel, swatting playfully at one of the strings on his hoodie. He detached his lips from yours, looking down at his little fur baby with adoration as a warm chuckle slipped past his lips. “You, Missy, are a real cock blocker, y’know that?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and gathered her up in his arms. “I’ll be right back, ‘kay? You want anything to drink? I was gonna open up a nice bottle of Chardonnay? You in, baby love?”

“Oh, a glass of Chardonnay would be lovely, baby. But hurry back, okay? I’m not finished with you yet.” You leaned over the cushion, brushing your lips against the corner of his jaw before settling back into a comfortable position.

“Oh, I ain’t finished with you either, baby love. And that’s a fact.” He winked suggestively and stood up, cradling Artemis against his chest and you watched as he headed back towards the house, and disappeared through the back door.

You let out a content sigh, gazing up at the millions of stars visible on this crystal clear night. Your thoughts consisted of Joel, and how he made you feel like you were always the only person in the room. And how your love for one another was a two way street. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d meet someone like him. And when you heard the back door open and close, and his footsteps approaching, your heart skipped a beat.

You watched as he slowly sank down against the cushion, two wine glass stems held securely in one large palm, and in the other a bottle of Chardonnay.

He looked over at you as he worked the bottle opener corkscrew into the cork, twisting it slowly with the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up over his forearms that were lightly flexing with each twist. Before he could finish opening the bottle, however, you were crawling into his lap, situating your thighs on either side of his hips as you straddled him.

He leaned his back against the cushion, pausing his movements of opening the bottle, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as you looped your arms around his neck, fingers gently playing with the curls at the base of his hairline.

“What’re you doin’, baby love?” He rasped softly.

“Can I sit on it while you finish opening that?”

“You wanna sit on my cock while I pour us a couple glasses of wine? Mmm…I had a feelin’ that’s what you were gonna ask me, baby love.” He chuckled.

“Yeah…I just want to feel you, baby. Do you want that?”

“Of course I want that, baby love. Lucky for you, I went with no underwear this evening.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully as you giggled, peppering kisses across his jawline and just below his ear.

“Is that so?” You nipped playfully at his earlobe, scraping your teeth against his skin gently.

“Mhmmm.” He rumbled out a response, feeling his cock stir to life in the loose confines of his cotton sweats. “Anytime you want, baby, all of me s'yours.” He confirmed, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

You reached between your bodies, gently palming him through the fabric as he lifted his hips upwards so you could pull his cock free. He used his freehand to help you pull your own sweats down just enough that they were over your hips, and he used his thumb to pull your panties to the side, assisting you as you grasped the base of his cock and slowly seated yourself on him.

He let out a low grunt as you shifted your hips to get more comfortable while he finished uncorking the bottle of wine with a soft pop. You felt him grow harder inside of you, the girth of his cock stretching you open as your body accommodated to his size: a perfect fit.

“Feels nice.” You both said in unison letting the feeling of being connected mind, body, and soul, wash between you.

He reached for the two glasses, somehow managing to steadily pour the wine into both and set the bottle down so it wouldn’t tip over. He handed you your glass, clinking them together gently before you both took a sip.

“Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah, baby love?” He had his head tilted back against the cushion, eyes staying locked on yours as he brought the rim of the glass to his lips and took another sip. You felt your walls clench around him just from that simple action alone.

“I think for the next video we film…I want it to be with you and Tommy.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, letting his freehand drop down and grab onto your exposed hip, pressing you in further to him as his cock twitched inside of you, “I think we can arrange that, baby love.”

You let out a soft gasp that was replaced with his warm lips kissing you, tasting the tang and sweetness from the wine on your tongue. And even though you were just sitting on him, enjoying the intertwined feeling of being connected, he dropped his hand from your hip, moving it between your bodies till he found your clit and began to rub the sensitive bud in gentle, orgasm-inducing circles till you were gushing around his cock from the stimulation alone.

He drank down your soft moans, whispering praises and sweet nothings that were only meant for your ears. And even as the fire began to die, and your glasses were empty, wine warming your bellies, you stayed like this, connected as one.

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[inkyu]

I try not to post OC art on tumblr because well

Tumblr isn't OC oriented unless it's fandom oc's

But I just wanted to prove that i'm not dead X.X

[kkcauseway]

Truths

Joel miller x younger f!reader

Summary I You babysitting Sarah is the norm. When you do so tonight it's so Joel can finally let his hair down and go drinking with Tommy- he's waited eleven months for it after all. You're already expecting a very drunk Joel to return home, and you're exactly right, but what you don't expect is the drunken confession that comes with it... Chapter warnings/content I age gap. Drunk Joel Miller, Joel being good at feelings for once because alcohol helps. Drunken confessions of love. Joel complimenting reader. So much flufffffffff gahhh! No outbreak, no use of y/n. A/N I Another of many cute drabbles that my brain decided to conjure up. I really hope you enjoy Joel being a sappy, in touch with his feelings guy when drunk.

Main materlist

You’ve baby sat for Joel since precious Sarah came into this world. As much as you know Joel would love to be a stay-at-home dad he can’t afford to be and so after taking two weeks off he looked for help and there you were. You’ve lived opposite Joel for years, he’s ten years your senior and has always helped your mom with the odd jobs that have needed doing round the house. This is your way to give back. More than happy to help him.

When he asked you last week if you minded watching her so he could have a couple beers with Tommy of course you said yes, who would you be to deny the man of that. You’ve been telling him for months that he deserves a night off. He’s the most selfless person on the planet he deserves to let his hair down and have a few hours off from parenting. His job is demanding and as much as Sarah is the best-behaved baby she’s still hard work.

He's waited a whole eleven months to go out, finally feeling ready enough to leave her on an evening and go let himself get jolly with his brother. You told him to get as drunk as he wanted, that you’d stay in the spare room, so Sarah had someone close at hand that was able if needed in the night. He was so appreciative of that.

With Joel and Sarah everything is so easy, you love helping out, getting to watch Sarah grow into the little girl she is becoming. Watching Joel be the best dad to her.

It’s around twelve that Joel makes it back, you had just stared to turn everything off and lock everything ready to go to bed when you hear the taxi outside.

“I’m backkk” he sings as he enters the house dropping his keys when he goes to lock the door from the inside.

You meet him at the door as he struggles to pick them up. “Here I’ll get them, go sit down” you laugh stroking a hand along his arm as he smiles up at you.

“Okay, thanks for always being so wonderful to me n’my f’mly.”

You can’t help but laugh at the way he slurs his words.

With the door locked and porch light now off you walk back to the lounge and find him slumped on the loveseat.

“Good night?” you question to his drunk sleepy frame.

“Such a good night, darlin’ thank you. I honestly can’t thank you enough for allowin’ me t’go. How’s my angel doin’ she get to sleep okay?”

“Out like a light, she had a bath then I read her a book and she’s had some warm milk. She fell asleep on my chest and didn’t even wake when I picked her up to put her to bed. Plus she hasn’t woke up since, I’ve been in to check on her twice she’s absolutely dead to the world, talking in her sleep and all, wonder where she gets that from” you jest.

He rolls his eyes with a scoff “one time, that was one fuckin’ time you heard me say some shit in my sleep when I was nappin’ and I ain’t never lived it down.”

“No, and you won’t ever, I mean your daughter can’t even talk properly yet and she’s fucking trying to string sentences together when she’s fast asleep, I say there’s no hope… she’s gonna be just like her daddy. Just like she is in every other damn way.”

“Well fuckin’ good luck t’her, why would anyone wana take after me.”

“Excuse me Joel Miller but we will have none of this negative talk thank you very much, I happen to think you’re amazing! And I can’t help but admire the way you are with Sarah. Honestly, I hope she does grow up to be just like you that will be so much fun!”

“You’re so beautiful, got such a way with words and know exactly how to make people feel better. You’re one in a million. Me and Sarah are more than just lucky to have you around. Thank you” he then bends to take off his boots.

You feel more than lucky to have them around too. You’re your happiest when you’re in their company. Spending time with them. Going on outings with them. If Tommy and Joel wana take Sarah out somewhere they always ask you to tag along especially now Tommy brings Maria. Maybe people think that Joel and you are in a relationship, that Sarah is yours. She definitely looks like she could be with her blonde hair and blue eyes that match your own. “Well I’m lucky to have you two too.” You reply with a big smile.

He chuckles as he struggles with his laces, and you watch the way his calloused fingers can’t get a grip on the knots, so you move to take them off for him as he looks up at you “you two too, that’s a tongue twister, you two too, you two too”

“You’re so stupid sometimes Joel Miller” you chuckle as you untie the laces.

“M’not” he pouts.

“You are, but I wouldn’t change you” you giggle having now taken off his boots and are moving them to their rightful place.

He laughs again as you make your way back to come and sit next to him. “ahhh, I like you darlin’” he sings letting his head fall back.

“Well I like you too, guess you ain’t too bad are yah” you giggle.

“No I-” he sighs sitting back up to look at you “I mean I really really like you; I want you to be mine.”

Did he really just say that?

“Wh- sorry what?”

“I want you t’be mine, forever”

“Joel you’re drunk” you chuckle.

“Yes, but I want you, I always want you every damn minute of every day. I can’t fuckin’ fault you baby you’re absolutely amazin’ at everythin’ you do, treat my daughter like she’s your own. Man I wana fuckin’ worship the ground you walk on for the rest of my life; I just can’t get over how amazin’ you are. And I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Fuck. Is this really happening?

“Joel” you stutter, “I don’t, I really don’t know what to say. I just, this is a lot” you move away from him slightly so you’re able to look him in the eye.

“I know you don’t believe me but s’true.” He mumbles as he leans toward you.

“Joel what are you doin?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

You’re surprised more so than anything that he’s actually asking permission. He’s pissed but still being a gentleman. That’s more than you’ve ever experienced before, but that’s how Joel has always been. Going above and beyond for the girls who mean so much to him in life. He respects women the way they should be respected.

“I wana kiss you so bad.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Joel.”

“Please lemme kiss you, v’wanted to for so long. Just been too much of a pussy t’ever ask you.”

He leans forward more losing his balance, so you place your hands to his chest to push him back up “Woah, okay big guy listen, I’ll stay over tonight as planned just in case you or Sarah need me, but nothing’s happening, I’ll let it happen if you still feel the same way in the morning, okay? Now go to bed you need to start sleeping this off.”

As much as you want to believe what he’s saying you don’t know how much is the whiskey talking and the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself OR him.

He pouts but nods before standing from his seat and walking to the stairs staggering as he treks up. “I’ve already put you a glass of water on your bed side table, drink it please” you add.

He turns back to smile at you as you move to place his shoes by the front door. “Such a good girl” he utters as he staggers his way up.

It sends tingles through your whole body. ‘Such a good girl’ replays in your mind over and over as you find yourself eventually in bed falling asleep too.

—

When he wakes up, he wakes to the smell of coffee and that hasn’t happened in a long ass time. Plus he’s got a banging headache, but his heart is also going one hundred miles an hour.

That’s when it dawns on him- shit he told you the truth. He had a lot to drink, enough to make a fool of himself but not enough to forget and yeah, he did mean exactly what he said to you, and he will tell you that. He sits up in bed familiarising himself with his surroundings, the room still spinning slightly, he looks to his bedside table and finds the glass of water he downed last night refilled and some painkillers there waiting for him.

He smiles knowing that means you’ve snook your way into his room during the night to ensure he’s looked after. He quickly takes the tablets and downs the whole glass completely parched from last night’s shenanigans. His body shakes slightly but not from the effects of the alcohol, he’s nervous to face you.

After eventually dressing himself, he walks down the stairs watching you sat at the table feeding Sarah her porridge. Neither of them have noticed him and so he stands and watches for a minute before interrupting the bonding moment.

“Is that yummy?”

She shrieks in reply "yah!"

“Mmm yeah it looks sooo yummy, you’re such a pretty girl huh you want some more?”

“Mo!”

“Yeah, some more good girl you’re so smart!” You praise as you place another spoonful into her mouth. She’s always been quick at everything she’s already walking and she’s saying some words. She’s the smartest little girl and you’re so proud of her.

“She gets that from me.” He adds startling you. You jump in your seat.

“Jesus, you made me jump” you chuckle.

Sarah giggles at the sight of you jumping.

“Dada!” She calls.

“Hey babygirl, is that nice?”

She nods smacking her porridge covered chops together.

“How you feeling?” You quiz observing the way he squints at the light.

After pouring himself a coffee he comes to seat himself in the chair next to you. “Like absolute utter s. h. i. t”

“I bet, you were pretty out of it, said some crazy stuff last night.”

“I did?”

“You don’t remember?”

Of course he does but he likes this game “enlighten me.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, you said some things, there was this one point where I actually kinda started to believe you, but I knew it was all the drink talking. I won’t embarrass you by bringing it back up.”

“Darlin.” It comes out almost like a stern warning, shutting up your rambling instantly.

“Yeah?” You reply softly.

“I know exactly what I said last night.”

“Oh, you do?” You drop Sarah’s spoon into the bowl as you stare at him.

“Yes, I do, and I meant everythin’ that I said. Absolutely every word.”

“Seriously?”

“M’deadly serious, I wouldn’t joke about somethin’ as important as this.”

You smile, “well that’s really good to know” and then you turn back to his daughter giving her another mouthful when she squeaks in annoyance of having to wait.

He sits on the seat next to you and admires your connection with his daughter. The way she reacts to you and just how natural you are with her. Your motherly instincts kick in instantly with Sarah and she’s not even blood. He’s been mesmerised by the way you handle Sarah since she’s been born, even back when Sarah’s mom was still around.

“Oh messy girl!” You coo when she puts her hand into her bowl and splashes it around.

“I got a plan” he grumbles as he places a hand to the small of your back sending goosebumps up and down your body.

“What’s that?” You quiz not taking your eyes off Sarah as you give her another mouthful.

“You and me Friday night, m’gonna take you out. I’ll get Tommy t’watch Sarah.”

You gasp at the feeling of him rubbing your back with so much care and in the fact that he’s going out of his way to take you out.

“We’ll go to that Italian you love. What do y’think?”

You turn to look at him with a smile. “I’d love that so much. Thank you, Joel.”

“My pleasure girl, just wana treat you the way you deserve and prove to you I want this and will always be in it one hundred percent as long as that’s what you want too.”

“It’s what I want.” You reply without hesitation, and he chuckles.

“Good.” He leans in placing a kiss at your temple and you close your eyes to savour the feeling of his lips on your skin for a few seconds before he pulls back away. When he does you both stare at Sarah who is looking back at you both with the biggest grin on her face. Showing off her few teeth.

You could get used to this being your life day in day out. You’ve already wished it were for months. And it seems it might actually happen now Joel has been truthful, you’ve hoped this would happen for a long time, have loved Joel for much longer than you care to admit, but it seems he’s felt the same and like you had just been too afraid to say something.

Bring on Friday night.

[jeannereames]

Hi professor- If you believe that Alexandros and Hephaestion ceased or at least heavily restricted their sexual contact by the time they were in their mid-twenties, do you think it possible or plausible they continued other non-sexual romantic behaviours, e.g making out, holding hands, lying in bed together, or other forms of intimacy that might be uncommon in purely platonic friendships?

PS: I'm a huge fan- I'm from a country where Classics is mainly studied by men, and posh ones at that. My class of about 20 girls made up more than 5% of people studying Classics in second-level education in the whole country. It can feel like a bit of a dorky interest at times, so thank you for being so cool and talented and sharing your knowledge in such an accessible way.

First, thank you! My goal here is to make the past easier to grasp (and without specialized knowledge). Not sure where you live, but if it makes you feel any better, Classics has been male-dominated in most universities until relatively recently. I’ve no stats to back this up, but I believe, at least in Anglophone countries, women are better represented these days, although it’s far from good. See Sarah Bond’s excellent article on the problem of the “manel” in Classics/ancient history. It was written in 2016, and I do think we’ve made some headway, but leagues remain to go. I’ll just echo RBG when asked how many women would be enough on the Supreme Court. “When there are nine.” At least in Macedonian history, we have a fair number of women.

Affection between Alexander and Hephaistion

Now, to the question … I’m going to expand this a bit to talk about what I see as a common misconception regarding affectionate gestures among ancient Greeks (and Romans). This isn’t something the asker is implying, mind, but their question became a useful jumping off point, so indulge me.

Ancient (and modern!) Greek culture is, in general, highly demonstrative. That is, physical expressions of affection are normal, beyond opening or closing social interactions or when excited.

What do I mean by that? When two (or more) people meet or separate, friendly gestures are common: hello or goodbye kisses, hugs, handshakes…. These are socially approved exchanges. Likewise, in periods of heightened emotion, whether good or bad (celebrations, mourning, or frightening events), physical expressions are also expected and accepted: holding hands in solidarity, hugs, arms around shoulders, etc.

But outside these events, more emotionally closed cultures rarely or never share such gestures: hand-holding, an arm around another person, kisses, etc. except within certain social categories such as parents and children, romantic pairs, and occasionally siblings.

But more emotionally expressive cultures don’t have the same inhibitions. Thus, when those from a more emotionally closed culture observe members of an emotionally expressive culture, misunderstandings can ensue. This is one reason modern assertions that so-and-so historical person “must” have loved so-and-so romantically because—see!—they’re hugging/kissing/being affectionate or declaring their affection in public is extremely problematic because it’s CULTURE-BLIND. It imposes the assumptions of one culture onto another culture, which is not only ignorant but—frankly—arrogant as hell.

I just want to put that out there because it needs to be said. AND taken seriously, not just given lip-service.

So, when it comes to pairings in certain ancient cultures, to call two people a same-sex couple, we must have better evidence than some public kisses and hugs. Their cultural norms must be taken into consideration. I do this, of course, when looking at Hephaistion and Alexander. It’s why I’m cagey about making an absolute pronouncement. We simply can’t because we have no clear evidence that’s contemporary and without other historiographic problems. That said, the freight of circumstantial evidence suggests, to me, that they were lovers at least as youths.

So, with all that in mind, let’s return to the question about other romantic gestures persisting even if/after Alexander and Hephaistion had stopped being physical lovers. As the reader may have begun to suspect, the difficulty in judging is that such gestures wouldn’t necessarily be purely romantic for them anyway. The Greeks, then and now, simply engage in more gestures of affection between “just friends.”

So, I’m quite sure the two hugged, stood arm-in-arm, and gave kisses, and no one in their personal circle would have regarded that as romantic. If they’d been lovers when younger, such gestures were probably much easier and more frequent than if they hadn’t been, but they still wouldn’t have been taken as evidence that anything sexual was still going on between them—even while such gestures wouldn’t rule it out, either. The two simply didn’t have an automatic correlation. Just like, once upon a time, a woman and man speaking together in private without a chaperone was evidence of the two having an affair, whereas today, such an accusation would sound ridiculous. (Even while it also wouldn’t rule it out!)

A rather lengthy and round-about reply, but as noted, I wanted to use the query to remind folks about the different norms for interaction in ancient Greece and Macedonia.

[fallingtowers]

the fact that buffy goes through All That and comes out still pretty and blonde and with perfect makeup can, of course, be chalked up to bog-standard misogynist beauty norms. female characters on tv were, and largely still are, groomed and beautified to a level frankly unattainable for any real person, buffy maybe more than most. sarah michelle gellar was an official spokesperson for maybelline during the shows run, and buffy's appearance was geared towards bringing in male viewers; of course she was never going to be anything other than unrealistically beautiful.

and yet, somehow, in the context of the story, it works! look, far be it from me to ever, EVER say a female character design is better without scars, and if any other character went through the kind of shit buffy regularly goes through and didn't end up with a scar or two to show for it, i'd call it stupid and cowardly. hell, i'll call it stupid and cowardly in the case of buffy too! certainly her lack of physical scarring wasn't primarily motivated by attention to story or theme. all the same, it manages to dovetail really neatly with those things in a way that imo adds to the character.

in-universe, we can confidently assume the reason buffy isn't covered in scars is that she has that slayer healing factor going for her. she gets hurt, but even major injuries heal quickly and don't leave a trace. good thing, too -- the show already has a hell of a time selling the idea that she's somehow keeping her identity as the slayer a secret, and it would be that much tougher for us to suspend our belief if this purportedly normal high school girl was walking around with the marks of violent conflict on her face.

the fact that she doesn't -- that she is outwardly normal -- ties into the thematic aspect of this. because we know buffy isn't normal; she's the slayer, and she's got plenty of psychological scars to prove it. at various points in the show, she lashes out from post-traumatic stress; she goes catatonic; she spends an entire season depressed and engaging in self-harm. in short, my girl is fucked up! crucially, though, she only ever makes this anyone else's problem when things reach a boiling point and she can't keep it bottled up anymore. she's the slayer, and that, to buffy's mind, means shouldering the burden of being the slayer alone. she maintains a double facade: an outward one, for the benefit of the wider world, where she pretends to be a normal girl; and the one she puts up around her friends, where she pretends to be okay. she's fucked up inside, but she doesn't show it. scars on the inside, but none on the outside.

in fact, we do see buffy with a scar once -- her wishverse counterpart in "the wish" has a prominent facial scar. not coincidentally, that version of buffy is a lot less concerned with appearances ‐‐ in terms of clothes, hair, and makeup, as well as in terms of behavior. wishverse buffy has been through the wringer, but unlike real-world buffy, she makes no attempt to hide it. she's hardened, cynical, jaded. she wears her scars on the outside.

it's also worth nothing that wishverse buffy's behavior is very reminiscent of faith's in a way that is likely intentional. that entire season is all about contrasting buffy with faith, her shadow self who represents her selfish impulse to cut loose and cross all the boundaries she's set for herself -- which would include her need to keep up appearances.

so: a line can be drawn between the doylist unnaturalness of buffy's appearance and the watsonian unnaturalness of her behavior. her proximity to, and emulation of, faith results in a thematic move away from that unnaturalness. this is in a season that's noted for its homoerotic undertones, wherein the show goes out of its way to establish parallels between faith and buffy's big dumb hetero star-crossed lover angel. hmmmm!!!

(also, lest we forget season 6, which buffy spends flirting with the temptation to drop the pretense and indulge in her own selfish desires, a temptation which is embodied by another shadow self, who has -- wait for it -- a prominent facial scar.)

in conclusion, a cool facial scar, an hour alone in a rage room, and getting fucked right by a girl might not have fixed buffy summers, but it couldn't have hurt. discuss

[mrs-stans]

A Different Man dives into an absurdist exploration of identity

Sebastian Stan and Adam Pearson are unforgettable as friends and rivals in a beautifully bizarre take on what it means to be human.

By: Sarah Gorr

A Different Man dives into an absurdist exploration of identity

A Different Man is all about what it means to be seen, in all the best and worst ways. It’s what it means to avoid eye contact with the unhoused man on the subway and to gawk at anyone who looks remotely outside the norm. It’s the difference between simply being noticed and being intimately seen, the way only someone who actually understands you can.

Writer and director Aaron Schimberg looks for as many ways as possible to play with these ideas, fitting the seer and seen inside each other in a little matryoshka doll. But first and foremost, our gaze is on Edward.

Adam Pearson isn’t internationally known, but he’s known to rock a microphone. (Matt Infante/A24)

Edward (Sebastian Stan) is a struggling actor with a rare condition that covers his face with large, benign tumors. He’s quiet and reserved. His every movement reveals a discomfort even existing in the world, never mind taking part in it. So when he gets the chance to take an experimental new drug that can completely heal him, he does so without a thought. Reborn as his new, more handsome self, he finally gets what should be the part of a lifetime in a local play based on his life. That is until Oswald, a man with the same condition as Edward, steals the part. In the process, this new arrival reveals just how exactly Edward has actually transformed.

Sebastian Stan captures all the nuance and complexity of Edward as he stumbles through this journey in a manner that’s nothing short of impressive. Hidden behind Mike Marino’s brilliant prosthetics, Stab carries the weight of his performance in body language. The slump of his shoulders, the way his eyes apologetically flit to those around him as if apologizing for even existing. Post-procedure, Stan infuses the performance with Edward’s confusion, frustration, and even unbridled rage. Schimberg’s script is an actor’s dream, and Stan more than lives up to the part.

Renate Reinsve isn’t buying what Sebastian Stan is selling vis a vis a plaid couch. (Matt Infante/A24)

Meanwhile, Adam Pearson’s performance as Edward’s foil, Oswald, was clearly crafted with the actor in mind. It’s an incredible showcase for Pearson’s exuberance and energy. He steal every scene he’s in and gives Edward’s jealousy the perfect excuse to boil over. He embodies everything Edward is not: charming, confident, witty. Pearson’s Oswald is a man you not only want to know but are downright grateful to have in your life.

Together, Pearson and Stan depict a dynamic that is mesmerizing to watch. Does any of Schimberg’s script work half as well without them? Honestly, it’s impossible to imagine.

However, audiences shouldn’t take that as a slight against Schimberg. His script is an intensely rich text, less Beauty and the Beast, more The Scorpion and the Turtle. A Different Man questions not just what’s in a person’s nature but what benefits or inhibits the performance of identity. In art, what makes something feel real or true? What truths benefit a piece? Which hinder? What facets of ourselves we take as inherent truths are anything but?

Sebastian Stan is giving what if autumn was fashion.(Matt Infante/A24)

It’s a film in a constant push/pull with transformation vs. consistency. Permeating it all is a sense of bleakness that seems to radiate from Edward himself. It infects everything from Umberto Smerilli’s bold and moody score to the film’s very texture, with its high contrast, sharp shadows, and rich color. It all comes together as if to say Edward’s insecurities, anxieties, and sadness that can’t seem to disappear as quickly as his features transformed.

Schimberg’s depiction of Edward’s journey to something like a discovery of self is part tragic, fully comic, and delightfully absurd. It’s a distinct film, despite the comparisons to Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance that people are already forming, and more than worth the price of admission.

A Different Man gives face in limited theatres starting September 20 before opening wide on October 4.