#Three years since I started this blog and made these guys. What?

[seafoam-taide]

recent drawings bc I love them

[secondbeatsongs]

Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman

so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:

at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.

but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!

and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking

(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.

but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)

so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!

lookit that guy! he's a real guy!

both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!

Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast

the more you know!

anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:

when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.

when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!

(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)

for now: we begin

so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.

two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.

so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:

2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage

surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man

...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)

the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that

hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky

okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.

so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"

I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!

(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)

mmm, yes. very smooth

...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!

a new discovery is made every day in this house.

okay, time to start mixing things together.

ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?

(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)

okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.

lastly: the cabbage

oh. oh this is not very nice

next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?

ah. this bowl is too big.

hey, these'll work!

now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.

(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!

look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)

hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.

I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.

I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!

let's build our boy

oh he's so heavy. and wobbly

no no no he almost fell over!!

okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.

and...okay. he is complete.

behold!

gaze upon my beautiful man!

(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)

 now it's time to stab him

and...to devour him

this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.

and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.

it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.

...I don't like this!

and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(

RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.

(note from current!me: I could not.

 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.

after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.

do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?

bad. the answer is: bad.

I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.

do not try this recipe at home)

[enzosbabyangel]

৻ꪆ Thinking about stepdad!Fred Weasley…

cw: smut, age gap(readers 20, Freds 41), cheating, MINORS DNI, 18+

a/n: originally posted on my old blog as a response to an ask asking for stepdad!Fred. Not proofread just copied and pasted

Your mom. God you loved her, but she really wasn’t the best lady. Every night you heard her with a random hookup. It was a never ending cycle for as long as you could remember.

‘Was’ being the keyword here. When she started her new job at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, she met one of the owners, Fred Weasley. A surprisingly successful man for someone running a joke shop. and a bloody hot man at that. She quickly fell for him and he managed to help her get her life back together, falling for each other during so. Eventually they got together then married about a year later. You were seventeen at the time, so that was three years ago. Fred was older than your mom by a few years, being forty-one now in current times.

And god, you loved your mom. But you couldn’t manage to think enough to stop your actions or deny how disgustingly good it felt when the same man rearranges your guts while she slept in the next room,

“Fuck…. s’your tight lil cunt hugging me like a vice,” The older man said through a breathy chuckle. Large hands holding the back of your thighs as your legs were pushed up, your knees practically next to your head.

You bit your lip as you looked at the man holding your legs. No, not just ‘the man’, your step dad, your mother’s husband. The entire situation was taboo for multiple different reasons, but fuck you loved it.

You let out a pathetic, soft moan as you glanced down to where the two of you connected, feeling him slowly drag through your walls. tears falling from your eyes at the delicious stretch of your walls and the soft touch that’s going in the shape of ‘o’s on your clit.

“C’mon you gotta loosen up a bit sweetheart.” He said, his sweet tone not matching the taboo situation. Free hand moving up to your face, wiping away your tears as he continued to slowly move. “I don’t fuck you for a month and you get all tight on me again… Maybe you should visit more?” He said with a smirk, tone slightly teasing, eyes darting down to your lips as his hand moved to where he was looking. His thumb pushing your bite swollen and wet bottom lip down slightly as he admired how easily he made you look like a mess.

You moaned at his words, getting tighter around him for a second before attempting to relax. You looked up at him with doe eyes, making eye contact with him. Silently pleading with your eyes for a kiss and preferably an increase in pace.

He groaned at your watery, wide eyes staring up at him. “You know what you do to me when you look up at me like that?” He asked rhetorically. Knowing that you knew damn well the effect you had on the older man. He moved your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he moved down, his arms resting on both sides of your head as his lips connected with yours, resting his bodyweight on his knees and forearms. His hips gradually starting to thrust faster.

You could feel every twitch of his cock as it dragged along your walls. his pace slowish as he pulled out though thrusts almost punishing as he quickly slammed himself back into you, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy part in you. Making you let out loud moans through the kiss, hands moving from his hair to his clothed back, pulling and scratching at the white shirt as his pace continuously sped up. The bed creaking with his actions.

You tried having a hookup with some guy since you’ve left for college, but none of them felt as good as Fred. Guys your age didn’t have the same skill and experience as him. You were unapologetically whipped for him and his cock, and he knew that and took pride in it. “Bet no other guys can fuck you like i can? hm?” Fred asked, pulling away from the kiss as he looked down at you. his hands planting themselves on your hips, making you meet his thrusts. His typical, confident smirk on his face. “Got you addicted to ya step dad’s cock don’t i?”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . written by enzosbabyangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

[kanekisfavoritegf]

PERFECT LOVER:The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

CHAPTER SEVEN:

The supply closet and Kento were becoming acquainted as he hid again from her.

Why was he in the closet again? He thought to himself as he wallowed in his self-pity. Oh yeah. He was semi-hard and avoiding you.

You who had walked in in tight black pants and a white button-up.

All of this would have been fine if you hadn’t left the top three buttons undone, saying it was hot.

It would have been fine had you not leaned over his left shoulder to check the email that the company had received.

All of this would have been fine if he hadn’t turned his head a single degree of your way and caught a glimpse of a black lacy bra.

And still, maybe all of that would have been fine had you not rubbed his neck softly, telling him

“It’s okay to look, Kento. Tonight, maybe you’ll get to touch them.”

Before walking off to your desk where Suguru waited with a pile of paperwork that needed reviewing.

It was not fine.

He was not fine.

Not fine at all.

Since the night he begged you to teach him how to please you, Kento had been very serious. So serious, it was slowly chipping at your sanity.

Yes, you were at work, but he had also had his tongue lapping at your cunt. And no, he barely made eye contact with you. It was as if you guys were back to level zero.

So you made a good, totally not reckless plan to tease him. To slowly peel away at his sanity until he ravaged you right there in front of everyone.

It worked well enough; you watched as his nose flared at the scent stuck to your neck. You saw the way his teeth clenched at your words.

Watching him shuffle his way around in his set as if trying to fix his pants was fun.

And just when you were about to take another glance his way. The man disappeared.

Into thin air.

UNBELIEVABLE.

“Y/N? Y/N? You okay?” Suguru asked from his desk. You stood before him, papers in hand, staring off into the distance.

“Uh, Yeah! I was just wondering where Mr. Nanami went. I was supposed to confirm the location for the investor’s gala with him, but he disappeared.”

“Oh, Kento does that sometimes.” Suguru chuckled, “Whenever Satoru gets on his nerves, he runs off to one of his hiding spots. I’d start by checking the storage closet.

The closest storage was a no, and so were the bathrooms. As you looked through the kitchen window, you only saw empty chairs.

“Where could he be?” You whispered to yourself.

Just as you were going to give up, you noticed a small room in the kitchen area, a pantry of some sort. That’s where they kept the extra paper and miscellaneous office things that didn’t fit in the original storage closet. At least that’s what Kento told you on the tour.

Opening the door, there he was, hands clenching the shelf in front of him, back faced to you. His head snapped back, and he peered over his shoulder. His eyes flared with anger. 

Okay maybe you had pushed him too far. Bugs, it’s fine. You could make up for it right now. 

Taking a quick glance behind you to make sure the coast was clear, you slept inside with him, closing the door softly behind you.

“Kento.” He didn’t respond. In fact, he just grabbed onto you. Pushing you against the door and splitting your legs slightly open with his knee.

“No talking.” He spoke roughly, but you ignored him. The look in his eye told you he wanted just the opposite.

“Kento, it isn’t polite to hide from the person you are fucking.” You whispered in his ear,  hands sliding down to his dick; you began to palm at the bulge in his pants.

“It isn’t polite to tease the person you are fucking while they are working either.” He retorted back at you.

“Really? I don’t remember doing that.” You feigned innocence tilting your head to the side. Looking up at him, you hand still on his bulge. Under the small yellow singular light bulb, Kento seemed to glow, his cheeks flushed pink and his ears violently red. His eyes left your face for a second, staring up at the ceiling he seemed to pray for mercy, forgiveness, patience…

Your finger that once palmed at his cock moved to his throat, outlining a vein that bulged out in stress, and with that, the last thread Kento had seemed to have snapped. 

“What are you doing to me?” He groaned before moving his hand to the back of your neck, squeezing softly as he brought you to his lips. 

His kisses devoured you, and you did your best to conceal your moans. The air was hot and getting hotter by the second. Moving his hand away from your face and to your leg, he tapped it, a wordless way of demanding you raise your leg to his hip. 

As you did, he flipped the two of you over so your back was against the shelves, pushing his erection into you; you both moaned at the feeling. 

Kento’s other hand was just above your head and to the right, clenching hard onto the wood.

It was messy and carnal the way you two moved against one another. And just as you thought you could breathe, his mouth moved to your neck, licking and biting, relishing in the quiet gasp that escaped as he did so. 

“What a whore you are.”

“I’m not!” You whined out, still humping against him, adding to the friction.

“Oh, you aren’t a whore?” Kento asked with a teasing voice. “You are telling me you aren’t going to let me fuck you right here, right now?”

You let out a moan so loud that Kentos hand rushed to cover your mouth. He chuckled at your desperation.

“You are a whore.”

“Noooo, Kento.” You tried to sound like you had even a little bit of resolve, but as you denied his claims, you pushed him harder.

“Uh uh,” Kento tutted, “You must address me as Mr. Nanami, we are at work, remember?”

“Mr.— Mr. Nanamiiii”, you whined! Feeling his hand graze over your covered cunt.

“Ooh love.” He groaned at the feeling of you “you are soaking wet.”

He kissed you again, and you swore you could see stars. 

“P-please—” you moaned

“Please, what, Miss. L/N”

“Please fuck me, I am a whore.”

“Turn around.” Is all he said, his face serious and concentrated.

As you turned around, you caught a glimpse of him, sticking the hand that had teased you over your panties past his lips lay on his tongue.

Once you were turned around facing the wall, his hands found your hips, and you fought the urge to turn your head and face him. Worried he may, in fact, stop what he is doing because you disobeyed him.

Who knew he had such a dominant side…

“Bend over and be a good girl, Y/N”

And as you did, he laughed under his breath once more. His hands that rested on your hips no longer grasped at you. 

“Now you know what it feels like.” He kissed your neck once more before pulling away completely. 

The door clicked open. 

And he was gone.

And you were left there a wet, horny mess.

"Where to you want me?"

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CHAPTER EIGHT: LOADING...

IT HAS BEEN SO LONG AND I AM SO SO SORRY😭😭😭 I HOPE THIS IS OKAY I AM SO SORRY SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Carpe Diem | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After himself being ditched by Oliver, they meet once again. Both seemingly skirting around what happened in the Common Room when they last saw one another. | Word Count: 5.1k~ (oops) | Warnings below the cut!

Part One: Quid Pro Quo Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, oral sex (f receiving), fingering

A/N: I feel...like the word count is overboard but FUCK IT it's my blog 😈

“Greek and Latin both belong to the Indo-European language family, which does not necessarily mean they are similar. The branches are totally different. Whereas Latin belongs to the Romance branch, Greek belongs to the…”

She half-listens to the lecture, caught between Professor Wardon’s monotone ramblings and scribbling whatever bits and pieces she can string together in swirly handwriting, trying to ignore Trevor two rows in front of her, typing loudly on his brand new Macbook that he no doubt got from his well-off parents for Christmas.

Pencil and paper for the peasants, she thinks bitterly.

The laptop she has back in her dorm is clunky, too thick for carrying in her bag, and any notes she makes now will have to be typed up meticulously later. She supposes it’s a good way of getting the information to be irreparably printed into her brain though. That’s the only thing keeping her from going insane.

Which is where she finds herself now, in the wee hours of the morning, her fingers so tired and eyes so strained she feels that all the letters and characters are beginning to merge together.

She's just about to close the damn thing when a notification blares in the bottom right corner of her screen.

‘m_gav_314159265359 is now online’

She presses her lips together to stifle a laugh at the username, it makes her giggle every time. Of course his username is fucking Pi.

After their little ‘happening’ in the Common Room, they'd talked for a bit over MSN, sometimes texting when she had enough credit and even more rarely meeting up at Trinity College campus. Their timetables never seemed to line up very often, so their meetings were quick and over before they could even get settled into really getting to know each other.

It felt strange to have done something so exciting and yet not really know someone.

The memory made her blush. She was never usually that impulsive and brazen. But she didn't regret it.

Everytime Michael saw her, his cheeks flushed almost without her even needing to try. And it felt nice to see someone act like that in her presence.

After lectures had started after Christmas into the New Year and then into Spring, she found herself somewhat self-conscious. Second guessing herself. Wondering if the freedom and calmness of the holiday period had given him a new sense of clarity.

After all, he'd not spoken to her once since lectures had started again.

A heaviness weighed in her chest, bitterly like rejection.

Maybe she was delirious from the time of night, but she felt a surge of courage, desperately wanting to just know if this was going to be more or not.

She felt her cheeks heat somewhat, rubbing the backs of her knuckles against her lips. There was no time to reply before he sent another.

And if what he'd said before didn't make her face burn, that certainly did. She nearly smirked when she thought to herself, 'you mean when I sucked you off in the Common Room?'

But she didn't type that. She decided to have mercy on him, if only a little.

His replies were so blunt and to the point that they were so quintessentially Michael. She found herself wondering if what he'd typed before had been for the intention of making her blush, but she doubted it. He seemed the type to be somewhat oblivious to how words could affect the opposite sex.

Or anything to do with the opposite sex for that matter.

Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she typed off a few quick goodbyes and with a soft, plastic tap, shut her laptop for the night.

“There are no fit guys in my class this semester, fucking livid,” Priya rolls her eyes, nursing a stale pint and a cigarette.

“Did you really expect Modern Languages to be teeming with attractive men?” She smirks in response.

“No. But I at least expected a good shag within the first three months.”

“Does they have to be within our course?”

“No, course not. I'm not lazy as fuck. Can’t be arsed to go off campus.”

She laughs, waving the smoke trail that's formed between their faces, the smell of cigarettes and damp, beer-soaked carpets fill her senses, nursing the only pint she's capable of downing.

“Don't shit where you eat, Priya.”

“Don't you fuckin’ start,” she grins with all her perfect teeth before checking her phone, “fuck, is that the time. Sorry mate you've got like half your pint left-”

“Don't be silly, just go. Whoever you're meeting is bound to have a bigger cock than me anyway.”

“You're a nasty bitch, you know that?” she smiles, standing and pulling her mini-skirt down, “see you later? Catch up?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world. Have fun!”

“Oh I will!”

She smiles, sipping the stale beer as Priya rushes out the door excitedly tapping the keypads on her phone in reply to a guy no-doubt, nearly running right into a lamppost.

She pulled out her own phone, spotting a new message from the ex-boyfriend she hadn’t heard a peep out of since Freshers Week, groaning with a displeased expression at the first few lines of text that read as if he were desperate. Even over the crackling sound of the speakers and Daniel Powter’s ‘Bad Day’ lulling quietly through the pub, she was still sensitive to the sound of his voice.

“-get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.”

She had to crane her neck, half-swivelled on her chair, but it was undoubtedly him. Only one person had that hissy, direct way of speaking, had dirty, blonde hair that touched the nape of his neck and was likely to wear such an…interesting selection of clothes.

Her mouth was barely open before she realised it was Michael, and by then he was too far away to shout from across a busy pub. She found herself with a sort of stupid grin, watching him walk with such a lanky gait, as if walking were an inhuman thing for him to do. 

It took her a few moments to text back a reply to her ex before she looked up again, eyebrows furrowed when she saw that whoever Michael had been with, was now umming and ahhing about whether to join the popular lot, for which she recognised Felix Catton amongst them, shockingly ill-dressed in a ‘what happens in Kassiopi stays in Kassiopi’ t-shirt, with a cigarette between his lips that had been inhaled to a nub. 

She grimaced. Only rich people could dress so fucking shocking.

And then her heart leapt in a different way when she saw Michael look distantly at Oliver, his hand half-raised in an awkward wave, his face crumbling in a way where she knew he was disappointed and yet, not surprised in the slightest. 

It was when Michael pushed his glasses up his nose in a way she couldn’t help but find sweet and go for the door, that she slipped from the stool she was on, a quarter of her pint left, and took off after him.

“Michael!”

The late winter air nipped at her skin, cursing internally that his legs were so fucking long he could stride a hell of a lot further than her. 

“Michael!”

It wasn’t hard to see the glint of his glasses lenses off the streetlights once he’d turned to face her, his lips parted in surprise and a heat rising to his cheeks.

He swallowed visibly, “H-hey..”

She felt her own heart rattle in her chest at how easy it was to fluster him, “Hey, you alright?”

For a moment, the self-proclaimed mathematical genius seemed genuinely lost for words, his throat closing up on him like he was having a sort of allergic reaction to the opposite sex. So with all that, he simply nodded, his hands clenched as if not knowing what to do with them.

“Sorry about your mate, that was a shitty thing to do.”

“Oh, he’s…he’s not my mate.”

She nodded, rubbing her hands together to warm them from the chill, “d’you wanna go somewhere?”

Michael’s eyes behind his glasses widened, “like…together?”

“No, I’ll make you go off on your own,” she grinned, “yes together!”

He huffed an embarrassed but elated laugh, and only now her eyes studied his shirt, cocking her head in amusement at the ‘that’s how I roll’ shirt with what looked like a maths equation beneath it. The actual meaning was lost on her, but it was so dorky it made her smile.

“U-uh, my mum bought it me for Christmas...” he muttered quickly to which she cracked an even bigger smile, the two of them laughing quietly for a moment before he spoke up again. 

“Do you wanna come to mine?” he asked, and it was so direct it made her blink, her lungs feeling as if they were fluttering, “I mean-my dorm.”

She wet her lips from the dry cold, watching how nervous and twitchy he was. And how it reminded her of the last time they were alone together. 

“Like…catch up or something. I-I’ve got alcohol if you-”

“That’d be lovely, Michael.”

He at least seemed grateful that she’d actually replied to save him from rambling, and even cracked a thin-lipped smile himself, clearly and delightfully nervous. Thirty-minutes ago, he’d have never considered this to be the ending to his evening. 

Michael’s room is disturbingly tidy, she wonders if he actually even lives here. It’s like those university rooms that they take photos of to advertise the ‘spacious’ and ‘community-driven’ atmosphere of campus life. 

At least it was clean, she mused as Michael passed her a bottle of the only alcohol he had, which were lukewarm WKDs.

“Thanks,” she smiles, taking a sugary sip and looking about the room. Michael has since cracked open his own drink, but seems disinterested in it as it rests on his bouncing knee, looking up at her from where he’s sat on his desk chair from under his brow.

His laptop sits shut, pencils in a neat line next to it. His walls are bare, with what she can only assume are blue tack marks from the previous tenant’s last year. With the exception of a wall-mounted calendar next to his desk.

“No posters? Was hoping I could be nosy, see what you like.” 

When she turns back to Michael he quickly looks down as if not wanting to be caught staring, “It’d just be maths stuff.”

“And Carol Vorderman?” she teases mindlessly, not catching the way his cheeks go alight.

She hums an amused laugh behind the bottle at her lips, “It’s very tidy.”

When he just replies with a shrug, she scoots off the bed to have a roam about the place, needing only a few steps to cross the room to his bookcase, filled to the brim neatly with books. She runs her finger along some of the spines.

“You’re not going to mess anything up are you?”

She laughs, coming out more of a snort, which makes her cheeks warm, “Sorry. Just curious about your books. ‘Mathematics of Language. Sounds like a bit of me and you.”

There’s that flush again.

That deer in the headlights look.

“Uh…just sounded interesting.”

“And is it?”

“Is it what?”

She smirks, “interesting.”

There’s a silence that for a moment neither of them are able to shake. 

Michael swallows visibly, “don’t know yet..”

She sees something in his expression when a playful smile lifts across her face, suddenly the memories and implications of what they’d done before now weighing heavily on them. And all at once, he’s able to smell the body scrub she’d used in the shower that morning and eyes flitting to the glint of her stud earrings. He’d remembered brushing past them with his fingers when her mouth wrapped around his-

“And who says you’re not a languages man?” she presses with a teasing lilt to her voice. The tone and sing-songy nature of her voice has his heart doing backflips, feeling as if he could feel the erratic beating between his ribs. 

Michael seems stuck in the position he finds himself as she lazily crosses the room, slipping back on his bed, one hand brushing across his bedsheets and the other setting the drink on his bedside table. For a long moment, his eyes couldn’t leave her. The whole situation was suitably extraordinary. A girl who had come onto him (to say the least) was now in his room, sat on his bed, touching his things…all while wearing something he personally deemed unsuitable for the cold, a dress with black tights beneath.

She turns her head to him, smiling, “you seem nervous.”

He swallows, trying to claw at any sort of reply, “is that an accusation?”

It comes out a bit harsher than he probably expected, but instead of recoiling, she bites her lip as if to stifle a full-toothed grin, “an observation.”

He shrugs, “just never had a girl in here before.”

“Worried I’ll mess up your feng shui?”

“My what?”

She genuinely laughs at that, nearly smacking her head on the bed frame, but a hearty chuckle all the same. And Michael doesn’t know why his own cheeks start to heat up at that, taking this opportunity that her eyes are shut to look down at her legs. For some reason, making her laugh just makes him want to try more. 

He’s never had that feeling before. Wanting to make someone laugh.

“No, really, my what.”

She meets his eyes brightly with her own, “feng shui, it’s like…the vibe of a room, a space. Like,  how you place your furniture or whatever.”

Michael raises a brow, his lip quirking on one side, “sounds like bullshit.”

“It probably is.” she laughs.

“Can I ask you something?”

The quick u-turn and tone in conversation has her eyes meet his nervously, her interest and curiosity piqued. Her hands find themselves nervously stroking her legs, the texture of the tights providing some level of comfort, “yeah sure.”

She can't quite figure out what expression he's trying to put on. His brows are furrowed in judgement and a curious sense of guarding himself. And yet he's sat back in his seat, looking at her like he is trying to figure her out, and yet wants to know why she is the way she is.

“Why did you do that?”

She blinks at the accusatory and monotone rhythm of his way of speaking.

“Do what.”

“Don't play stupid. Doesn't suit you.”

She nearly scoffs at that, “what? Why have you gone all weird all of a sudden?”

“Why did you do…that at the Christmas party?”

She shrugs and shakes her head, as if the answer should be obvious, “because I wanted to? And you didn't seem to mind either.”

“I didn't-that's not the point!” he retorts, “are you genuinely taking the mick out of me?”

“You've asked that before and no.”

“Well why then?”

“Is it not enough to really think that I find you interesting? And nice to talk to?”

Of all the things she expected Michael Gavey to go quiet at, it certainly wasn't that. But she watches him all the same, the line between his brow slowly disappearing as his frown vanishes.

She cocks her head, “and not bad looking either.”

“Stop it.”

“I mean it!”

“Nobody wants the fucking maths virgin-”

“Michael. I don't give a fuck about that,” she says calmly, “Hell, I was a virgin not that long ago. You keep saying ‘nobody wants the virgin’ but you can't keep using that as an excuse just because you're embarrassed you haven't done anything.”

He sighs, like he doesn't want to believe her. And she can hardly believe how self-deprecating and yet direct this man can be in a single breath.

“Look, if you don't want to talk to me, I can always go-”

Almost as soon as she is stood, he is too, one large hand wrapped around her forearm, “No.”

They've been sat so long, she had almost forgotten how tall he was, and the difference between them briefly has her tummy doing back flips. From here, she is able to smell whatever body wash he uses, and if she had to guess, probably blue radox.

“No, I didn't say I wanted you to go. Stay…”

He doesn't say ‘please’ once, and yet she's able to hear the desperation.

When she doesn't move, his grip loosens, and she feels tingly all over when his hand slides up her arm.

“Can I kiss you again like last time?”

She almost smiles in adoration at how he asks it, but for the sake of saving him the embarrassment of thinking she's laughing at him, settles for a simple and gentle nod of her head. She is sure she's not really thought it through. Weighing up the pros and cons isn't exactly the first thing on her mind right now though as Michael has to bend significantly to crash his lips to hers.

Much like last time, he is a bit endearingly clumsy, his lips moving quickly on hers like he's running a race with his mouth. This time there is no pool table for him to cage her against, but all the same his legs take him forwards until her knees hit the edge of his bed.

By the time he is on top of her, she's managed to weave her fingers through his hair, her nose nudging against his glasses every now and then, and guiding him with her own movements to slow down and enjoy the moment, with no need to rush.

She knows that secretly he's probably just excited.

But this time, his hands are extremely active.

She's unable to help the breathy whimper between desperate kisses as he tentatively squeezes her thighs, not quite brave enough to go beneath the dress yet and drifting upwards to her breasts, touching and clutching fondly, as if any harsh grip or movement and she'll get up and leave.

He's still unsure, maybe even nervous, she can feel it.

It's here she realises that whether he is doing it subconsciously or not, she can feel the strained bulge at the front of his trousers rubbing up against the inside of her leg, probably chasing friction that feels too good for him to feel lucid.

“Can I see you…” he asks as his lips break away.

She doesn't even reply, she just complies, pulling the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders and the bra straps along with it. The position she's in making it near impossible to reach behind her.

If she could print his face in her mind as she pulled her dress down to her ribs, she would. He looks entirely mesmerised in adoration, and once the only thing covering her breasts is the thin material of her bra, Michael looks at her with an almost dream-like gaze. 

His hand moves before his mouth, or at least before he catches himself, “Is it oka-”

“Course..” she says far too quickly. 

All she can hear as Michael pulls the thin straps of her bra fully down her arms, exposing her breasts, is his breath, staggered and uneven. His hand easily covers one of her breasts, squeezing experimentally, his thumb gently drifting over her nipple and watching them stiffen to needy buds. 

She doesn’t need to look between them to see how hard he is, she can feel him against her thigh, where her dress has since ridden up to her hips. 

His glasses knock against her chest as he leans down, all-too-carefully covering her nipple with his tongue, like he is trying to print the taste of them to memory. 

There is an unconscious desire to press her thighs together, but she settles for rolling her hips, causing Michael’s voice to rumble against her chest where he mouths at her breasts. One hand forever stays at the one he isn’t paying lip service to, testing the weight and shape in his palms. 

It feels like all sensitivity has been turned up to 1000. He is so slow, so unsure, that every languid movement has every nerve feel as if it’s on fire. A selfish part of her wants him to go faster, so used to the fervent, almost rushing nature of who she’d been with before. It was never like this, borderline worshipping.

“Michael…” she breathes, rolling her hips against him experimentally, rewarded with a low whine from him.

She watched as her nipple slips from his lips in the most erotic manner she’d ever seen, before his clear eyes are on her again. 

“Is this okay? Am I doing something wr-”

“No,” she shakes her head quickly, “feels nice.”

Michael licks his lips, a sign of how nervous he is, “Can I do something else?”

He is so eager to please, to learn, that looking at his face as he asks she can hardly deny him. And her head moves without effort, nodding as she watches his hand disappear beneath the hem of her dress to pull her tights down her legs. 

It then becomes obvious what he wants to do. 

“Are you sure, I-”

“I’m sure.” he adds, rolling the black nylon down her legs until all that is left between Michael and her bare skin below her hips, is her underwear. A flush of embarrassment engulfs her face at the thought of how aroused she might be, knowing he has no experience, she doesn’t want to scare him off. The tender and yet needy way he’d mouthed at her breasts had her body all warm, and she can’t remember the last time she’d been this ready for anything.

“I just want to do the same for you as you did for me. Make you feel good.”

And that certainly doesn’t help that feeling either.

She’s not sure if she will get tired of the sight of his long, lithe fingers gripping her thighs apart, and for a moment she finds herself entranced by the view, until he is pressing sweet kisses to the inside of them. Open-mouthed, with an addictive cooling sensation when he pulls away, only to edge closer to the centre of her underwear.

Her breath remains stuck in her chest as she watches him navigate the female body, mapping it out in his head. She knows better than to say anything, knowing him as she does now, he is immensely competitive, and wants to get things right. It’s likely if she stepped in to instruct him, it would only embarrass him more. So she stays quiet, and lets him come to her.

His thumb dips beneath the leg hole of her underwear, “Can I?”

She swallows visibly, now for some reason it’s her being the nervous one. Possibly because the first time, it was her doing something for him. And now, it is very much the feeling of being studied, of being watched to see what made her tick. A feeling that has her desperate for some kind of fulfilment. Anything.

She lifts her hips to help him slide her underwear down her legs, her cheeks warming at being so utterly exposed to him herself for the first time. There is a finality to it that she just can’t quite put into words. A point of no return.

A full body shudder made its way through her when she felt his thumb trail across the spot where her leg met her hip, trailing the line there that led to her sensitive womanhood.

Michael looked as if he was being presented with an equation, she could practically hear the thoughts in his head. But beyond not entirely knowing what to do, it didn't dissuade his curiosity.

She could tell though, that he didn't know what to do.

Michael nearly flinched when she took his hand, encouraging his thumb to touch her bundle nerves hidden between her folds. 

She watched him as his thumb cautiously collected the wetness that had begun to come out of her and used it to gently apply pressure to her clit. Breath was hot in her chest  as he started slowly.

“Does that feel good?” He asked softly.

As soon as she nodded, confirming how pleasurable it was, Michael's first reaction was to go faster. And so he did. Like he was trying to light a fire.

“No, no, no, it's fine to go slow.”

“Shit, sorry…”

“It’s fine,” she smiled, “just more gentle.”

The panic on his face had been clear. But at her gentle instruction, she saw him relax, taking her words and applying gentle pressure in slower, tighter circles. And it seemed Michael was now fully aware of its intended effect, as his eyes were able to lift up to hers underneath the rim of his glasses to see her breathing had increased, and blood rushing to her cheeks. 

It felt incredible to watch his expressions, she thought. Seeing the little thoughts rattling around in his head, to be able to awaken something in him for the first time. But it also felt utterly exposing, and every time his thumb drew circles against her clit, she heard the soft click of her arousal that made the room feel as if she were inside an oven. 

Michael’s lips parted, his head moving as if pulled by an invisible string to her core.

“Can I…?” he asked again, but more uncertain this time. 

The anticipation gnaws so much at her skin, combined with the way he is taking his time that she has become somewhat impatient, so it’s completely involuntary when she nods her head and somehow manages a whispered ‘yes’.

She doesn't really, really know what's wrong with her. She's had head before. But when he dives between her thighs so quickly and eagerly, his thumbs almost pulling her skin gently to expose as much of her as he can, and swiping his tongue over the centre. From her entrance, all the way to her bundle of nerves.

It has her breath stuck in her chest, instinctively reaching down to run her fingers through his sandy hair. Even the slightest tug on it has a low groan vibrating through her where his mouth moves slowly against her.

“Michael…”

At first he is careful, taking the instruction she'd given him before and applying it to tasting her instead. But his eyes flit up to her when she breathes his name like that, so he redoubles his efforts, gripping the underside of her thighs to tug her towards him in a teasing rhythm.

She didn't really know what to expect, assuming he hadn't done anything like this before. But Michael seems eager to please, as he nudges between her sensitive folds to tease her entrance with his tongue, the sharp shape of his nose butting against her bud with every movement, as little as it is.

With one hand in his hair, her hips move against his face, the glasses perched on his face hanging askew. And all she can see is that his eyes are closed as he tastes her, every now and then he makes a noise between a whine and a moan, as if he didn't want the experience to end.

Dragging his tongue back up to her bud to focus his attention there, Michael experimentally slides one long, slender digit easily inside her, pleased at the breathy sound it seems to elicit from her. Two feelings at once, just as she'd given him before.

“Oh, shit-” 

He fights the urge to smirk when he hears that. She's so warm and wet, that it's easy to slide in the second, feeling her walls suck him in as they clamp around his fingers moving in and out of her. It's a feeling he couldn't describe if he tried, and he daren't think of what she'd feel like around his cock, or if she'd let him.

She can feel her stomach muscles tightening, an orgasm bubbling up to the surface when he gains confidence, flicking her swollen clit with his tongue and pistoning two fingers with a pornographically wet smack into her over and over. Brushing that sweet spot inside that he manages to find sometimes, seemingly without realising.

“Michael - fuck - I'm gonna-”

He groans as her fingers tug at his hair, her hips grinding herself against him and chasing that delicious friction as her high barrels through her, sparking pleasure down each notch of her spine until it fizzles out through her limbs.

She can feel Michael grinding himself against the bed, searching for his own, as he maintains his actions, lapping up everything she gives him with determination. When she dares to look down at him, as if he can sense it, his eyes open to watch her expression, the blue of his eyes nearly entirely eclipsed by black.

As if something had been awoken in him that even he couldn't recognise he'd wanted.

With one last swipe of his tongue over her centre, Michael withdraws his fingers, gripping her thigh with them and making the skin there glisten.

Her cheeks feel as if they're on fire when he rights himself to his knees before her, looking down at her with admiration at how she is still essentially half naked. The tightness at the front of his jeans makes it obvious how he felt about what he'd just done.

Engrossed by watching her breasts move as she breathes heavily, the slight shimmer of sweat on her collarbones, Michael raises his hand to his face, using his palm to wipe her slick from his lips and chin.

She breaks the silence with a tired laugh when he pushes his glasses back up his face, one half of the lenses completely fogged up. It prompts him to laugh too.

“Was I okay?”

This time she doesn't hold back her smile at the way he asks it. As if she hadn't just shaken with the force of her high all over his face.

She nods, “More than okay.”

He seems genuinely relieved.

She bites her lip as she looks at him, his cheeks all tinged pink, his mind reeling at what they'd just done.

He doesn't know what to say or do, and she can see it.

“Do you fancy having a girlfriend, Michael?” she asks.

“Uh…I've never had one, not properly anyway.”

“Yes, but would you like one?”

She watches the bob of his Adam's Apple as he swallows heavily, “Y-yeah…”

She pushes herself up to meet him where he's knelt, admiring his features for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him, encouraging him to kiss her back. It takes a second for him to respond, but when he does, it's needy, teeth and tongues clashing as the musky taste of her is captured on him.

“Tell you what, after your exams, when you can relax, I'll be your proper girlfriend. In every way..”

His breath comes out shuddered against her lips, “what do you mean?..”

She wets her lips as she smirks, “I think you know exactly what I mean, Michael.”

She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing him blushed and bothered.

And when they're both dressed, sharing awkward giggles and nervous kisses, she gives him a look with a cock of her head as he checks his wall-mounted Countdown-themed calendar.

“What you looking for?”

“My last exam is the 15th. There's exactly 12,246 minutes between now and then and all I'm going to be thinking about is whether you'll really be my girlfriend or not.”

She nearly smiles at the fact he does the maths so quickly. 8 days, 12 hours and 6 minutes until his last exam. And even though she's made it clear she wants him, he's still unsure.

She meets his gaze, unable to hide the grin off her face, “Better get studying then. You've only got 12,245 minutes left until you've got me.”

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[callsignrooroo]

You Never Left Me

A/N: Eeee! Here it is y’all! So excited to for this be out there. This was my first time writing straight smut, so I hope I did it justice!

Minors and ageless blogs do not interact!

A big thank you to @hederasgarden for being my beta for a large portion of this fic!

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Parent loss, p in v sex, AFAB reader, mentioned birth control, unsafe sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), dirty talk. I think that’s it, if anyone sees anything else please feel to dm me!

Coming back home always felt heavy. It had been five long years since you lost everything you knew, including your parents, to a tornado that happened faster than you could blink. Five long years since the last time you saw your one that got away– Tyler Owens. 

Blinking dust out of your eyes, you jumped out of your truck. You were right down the road from the motel where you were staying and had stopped to get some snacks for the morning. You had to be at the bank first thing and knew you wouldn't have time for breakfast. Just as you were walking up to the gas station door, it burst open and before you could get out of the way, you knocked into two figures. 

“Lily, you dumbass, I told you to slow down,” Boone snapped. 

“Oh shut it, it’s not like you are in any less rush, you're just as much a sucker for Tyler's cooking as the rest of us,” Lily grumbled. 

All three of you stopped in your tracks as you made eye contact.

“Shit”, you said.

“Shit,” Lily and Boone echoed simultaneously. 

You heard someone grumble from behind your two friends, and you quickly stepped out of the way, pulling them both with you. 

“So, uh, I thought you guys were in Enid,” you said awkwardly. 

Boone started sputtering and Lily cut him off. “Boone, you're going to catch flies. And, you, after five years of not seeing each other in person, that’s all you have to say,” she exclaimed. 

You cast your eyes downward.

Boone, however, finally seemed to get his tongue in working order. “Does Tyler know you're here?” he questioned. 

Your eyes snapped back up at the mention of his name. “No,” you emphasized.

Boone got a distinct look of disapproval on his face, and Lily looked at you like she knew something you didn’t. 

“Oh, this is going to end well,” Boone said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

Lily shoved him and he huffed. “You have to tell him,” she said, her eyes on yours.

This was precisely what you were afraid of and exactly why you planned your trip around their posted schedule on  YouTube. You weren’t sure you'd ever be ready to deal with him, not after you left.  “No, I don’t. I’m leaving in two days, and as much as I wish I could stay,” 

Boone scoffed, and Lily shoved him again, 

“I have work to get back to,” you explained. 

Lily crossed her arms and her expression shifted to hard determination. “If you don’t tell him, I will,” she stated simply. You blinked hard, and even Boone looked surprised by her boldness. 

“Lily, please, nothing good will come out of this,” you begged. 

The black-haired girl shook her head. “I mean it, he deserves to know,” she said seriously.

You felt tears prick your eyes. “Lily, please, I can't do this now, it’s been too long,” you pleaded. 

Her dark eyes softened and she reached for your hand. “Trust me, he needs to know,” she assured. Your eyes flicked to Boone’s and you could tell he agreed. 

“Fine, I’ll tell him,” you relented. 

“You promise,” she questioned, eyebrows raised. 

“I promise.”

She smiled brightly and pulled you into a hug. “Good. Text me before your flight and we can all get breakfast before you leave,” she chirped. 

You glanced at Boone, and before you could open your mouth, he hugged you and squeezed you tight. “You better text us,” he said into your hair. 

You smiled. “I promise.”. 

Lily looked at her phone and cursed. “Shit, we have to go, Tyler needed the milk to finish the food.” Boone rolled his eyes and grabbed the keys from her.

You shook your head as you walked into the gas station.

Later that night, you stared at Tyler’s contact photo. It was an old one, a picture of him right off a bull, smiling wide, before his injury. You watched the blinking cursor, waiting for some grand thought to strike you on how to tell him you were home. Eventually, you sighed and turned the lamp off.

~~

You closed your eyes as you leaned against your motel door. The morning had been long, and all you wanted to do was sleep. The bankers had been patient with you when they explained where the money in the found account had come from. You were thankful they didn't make things awkward when you started to cry when they explained the money was from a fund your parents set up as a child. You were wiped emotionally, but you knew if you didn't keep your promise to Lily, she would tell Tyler you were in town herself, and you knew that wasn't the right way for him to find out. 

Your phone dinged, and you glanced at it.

From: Lillypad :): We all just left, now’s your chance babes :*

A second later, another text came through. 

From: Booney: he never stopped

You blinked as you stared at the text. Never stopped what? Caring? Missing you the same primal way you missed him? Hating you for leaving him behind after flying out of town like a bat out of hell? You weren't sure, but you knew it was time to find out. 

You slipped out of the dress you wore to the bank and slipped into a tank top, your favorite pair of jeans, and your worn boots. It was now or never. 

To: Lilypad :): He’s still at his mama’s house?

From: Lilypad :): Like he’d ever leave

You felt your heart rate increase as the house came into view. You had so many memories of this place. Memories of the four of you piled up in the living room as kids, memories of you and Tyler sitting on the roof talking about going to college, memories of hugging him as he sobbed when his mama died, and then him holding you in his strong arms after your parents funeral. You shook your head to clear your thoughts, but the one you never stopped thinking of popped into your head instead. 

 The last memory you had of Tyler and this house was five years ago, on the day you left for Texas, and how you swore you saw tears in his green eyes as you drove away from the porch you had both sat on together so many times. You glanced in the visor mirror and realized your eyes were damp. You swiped at them before stepping out of your truck. When Tyler didn't immediately materialize on the front porch, you realized he must be at the back of the house on the sun porch. You took one last deep breath before taking your boots off at the door. You walked in, and a wave of nostalgia hit you as you spotted the magazines by the kitchen sink. You slowly crept through the house, memory after memory hitting you, until you reached the doorway of the sunroom. 

The second your eyes landed on him, it felt like a piece of your heart clicked back into place, and you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be. Thoughts of Texas were forgotten, and you just took him in. He looked good, even better than you remembered. He had a pencil in his mouth, and his brows were creased as he stared at his computer. You stood there and just took in the sight of him until eventually, he looked up.

He blinked several times before getting to his feet. He stood there for several long moments before crossing the room in a few quick steps to stand in front of you. He went to reach for you and then stopped himself. “Are you real?” he whispered into the silence. 

“Hi Tyer,” you murmured. The second his name left your lips, he was pulling you into a crushing hug. You immediately relaxed into his arms, overwhelmed by the feeling of his solid chest against yours and the smell of him; fresh laundry, wind, and something that was so intrinsically Tyler, you could never pinpoint it. 

“You’re here,”  he breathed into your hair. 

You nodded as best as you could pressed so close. “I’m home,” you said, voice laced with double meaning. 

“How? Why? Hey, look at me,” he said gently when you looked down at your feet. 

He hooked his thumb on your chin and brought your head up so you could look up into his eyes. “The bank,” you explained lowly.  He gazed into your eyes, patiently waiting. “The bank found an account, and I had to come sign for it,” you told him. 

“Your parents?” he questioned softly. 

When you didn't answer, he just continued staring into your eyes. He moved closer to you and caressed his thumb over your cheek. “You are one of the strongest people I know,” he said, voice laced with awe. 

You shook your head, temporarily dislodging his fingers from your face.  “I’m not,” you uttered. 

He brought his other hand up to your face and cradled your face. “You are,” he admired. 

You felt moisture gather in your eyes. “How can you say that, I left,” you sniffed. 

He shook his head and brushed a thumb over your cheekbone. “But you came back,” he muttered. The to me went without saying. 

“Tyler,” you said softly, letting yourself trail off.

“You came back,” he emphasized.

“I wasn’t going to,” you whispered.

You felt him flinch. “I wasn’t going to say anything to anyone, and I thought y’all were in Enid wrangling tornados, but then I saw Lily and Boone, and then Lily said if I didn’t tell you, she’d tell you herself, and I knew that wasn’t the right way to find out, so I came here to see you,” you said in a rush.

He glanced away from you, your face still in his hands, before looking back down at you, and you could see the moisture in his eyes. 

“You weren’t going to tell me you were home?” he asked. 

You couldn’t bear to look at the heartbreak in his green eyes, so you broke out of his embrace and sat on the worn sofa in front of the window. “I didn’t know how and wasn’t sure if you still…” you trailed off again. 

He gingerly sat near to you, close enough that your thighs were touching. “If I still what, sweetheart?” he asked as he leaned closer. 

You shrugged, and you both sat in silence for a few moments. “Boone said you never stopped,” you said quietly.

He moved even closer, tugging your legs so they lay over his lap.  “Did he elaborate?” he pressed. 

You shook your head and looked back into his eyes. Just then, you saw all of him. The softness he held for you, how he was letting himself be vulnerable, and the love he felt for you all shining through his eyes. 

“He didn’t have to,” you admitted. 

“Darlin, I know you know,” he said. “All those nights we watched the sky, and all the days spent in this very room, you have to know,” he said. 

You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again and leaning closer so your foreheads were touching, leaving you practically sitting in his lap. “Of course I did, I’ve always known Tyler since we were kids,” you said emphatically. He let out a shuddery breath but you continued. “But then I lost everything, and it felt like everything changed, and I had to get out, to get away from the grief. I know now, I left you but you never left me.” You had tears running down your face, but Tyler wiped them away with his thumb. 

“Can I kiss you?” he questioned, his lips millimeters from yours. 

Instead of replying, you leaned forward to close the minuscule gap. He groaned into your mouth and you wrapped your arms around his neck. When the two of you had to part for air, Tyler immediately ducked down to suck on your neck. 

“Tyler, the marks,” you said weakly. 

“Yeah baby, I bet you’re gonna wear them like a trophy,” he hummed against your throat. You moaned and pulled him back up to your lips by his hair, and he groaned into your mouth. “That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he mumbled. You moaned again when he gently bit your lip, his tongue quickly coming behind to soothe it. “Tell me this is okay; tell me I can show you how much I’ve always loved you,” he begged.

“Show me, please. Show me, Ty,” you said softly.

He went back to your neck, peppering you with small kisses and intermittent sucks.

“Tyler, I need more,” you whined. 

“More,” he wondered. 

“Please Tyler, don't tease,” you begged, tugging at his hair. He shifted you so you were straddling his sweatpant-clad thigh, and smirked when you moaned at the friction. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered. 

“Is that what you needed darlin’?” he teased. 

You bit your lip and brought your hand down to cup him through his sweatpants and he groaned, his forehead coming to rest against yours. 

“Is that what you needed, darlin’?” you parroted, eyebrow raised. 

“Oh you little-,” he cut himself off by rolling you both over so you were caged underneath him, quickly adjusting so his knee was connected to your core. 

“Sweetheart, I’ve waited too damn long for this for us to tease each other,” he confessed as he kissed down your neck. 

“Why don’t you do something about it then cowboy?” you asked, smirking. 

“There’s that fire,” he chuckled. He sat up on his legs, pulling you with him, and in one fluid motion, he had your tank top on the floor. He attached his lips to your newly revealed collarbone, one-handedly unlipped your bra, and added that to the quickly growing pile of clothes. You kicked your boots off and turned back to find him staring.

You shivered under his stare. “Your turn cowboy,” you told him, tugging on his shirt. 

In one move his shirt was on the ground, and he was pressed up against your bare chest. 

“Kiss me, please Tyler,” you pled. 

He kissed both of your cheeks before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You moaned as you pressed down against his thigh harder, slowly starting to grind yourself down. A second later he was kissing his way down your chest, stopping to circle his tongue against your left nipple, and then the right one, before going back to suck the left one into his mouth. 

You moaned in pleasure and your hand shot up to grip his hair, causing him to moan against your skin. “Fuck,” you cursed, arching your back as he gently bit down. He crept lower, kissing along your stomach as he went. He kissed along the edge of your jeans and raised a hand to undo the button. He let his head fall back down and leaned in, slowly bringing down the zipper with his teeth. 

“Tyler, holy fuck,” you groaned. You could practically feel his smirk against your thigh.

 “Yeah? I thought you might like that,” he chuckled. 

He peeled your jeans off and then stood up. When you looked at him with confusion, his smoldering eyes softened. “Sweetheart, as long as I've waited for this, you can bet that sweet ass of yours that the first time I get inside you will not be on a couch. 

You giggled as he pulled you up into his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around his muscular hips. You buried your face in his neck as he carried you the short distance to his room, sucking and biting your marks into his perfect skin. 

You whimpered at the loss of contact as he lowered you to the bed. He kissed you softly, and you sighed happily as his tongue brushed against yours. He brushed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, and to your stomach. He rubbed your clit through your panties, and you arched into his touch. “How long has it been, sweetheart,” he questioned with a kiss to your hip bone. 

“Too long,” you panted. 

A moan broke out of your throat when he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh. 

“Tyler, please, I need you,” you begged brokenly. He hummed again as he hooked his fingers on the sides of your panties, slowly peeling them down your legs, leaving wet kisses as he went. 

“Fuck honey, look at you,” he said in awe. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said.

You groaned and threw an arm over your red cheeks.

“Nuh huh,” Tyler admonished. “Let me see all of you. I’ve waited so long for this, sweet girl,” he said as he slid his fingers over your slicked entrance. 

“Shit, Ty,” you breathed. 

“There we go,” he said, his eyes alight, “let me hear you.”

He dipped his middle finger inside you, gathering your wetness, before he got down on his stomach. He slid his finger in and out, his mouth just a breath away from where you needed him the most. 

“I thought you said no teasing,” you whined as you moved to tug him where you needed him. Before you could, he licked a stripe right through your core. “Fuck,” you yelped.

He didn't say another word, just clamped his large hands around your thighs and licked at you like a man starved. 

“Ty, Ty, Ty,” you chanted. 

He mumbled something against you, and you groaned at the vibrations. 

He pulled away just long enough to suck in a deep breath and murmur, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” before attaching his lips to your clit. He eased a finger inside of you, and then moments later, he added another. 

“Ty, fuck, please, I'm ready, I need you,” you sobbed. He withdrew his fingers and crawled back up to pull you in for a kiss. 

You both simultaneously groaned at the taste of you on your tongues. 

He pressed himself against your dripping core, and you gasped into his mouth. Even through his sweatpants, you could tell he was big. 

“Darlin’,” he started, hissing when you pushed your hips down onto him, “I want this just as bad, but I’ll let you know when you can take me,” he finished. 

You ground down on him again, and he hissed through his teeth. “Tyler Owens, if you don't finish what you started in the next five seconds, I'm going to leave and finish it myself,” you threatened. You both knew it was an empty threat; you wanted each other too badly and had waited too long to call it quits now, but the empty threat seemed to put him into overdrive. He peeled his sweatpants off and went back down to suck at your clit. 

“How about this honey? Give me one, and I’ll fill you up like you need,” he bargained. Before you could respond, he was face-first into your pussy, two fingers curling just right. 

“Fuck,” you screamed. 

He pulled away to watch your face, his fingers never stopping. “That’s it, darlin’, come for me, come for me, and I’ll give you my cock,” he crooned at you.

Your arm shot out, and your nails dug into his bicep as you screamed out your orgasm. Before the after-shocks even subsided, Tyler was kissing you hard as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You both groaned when he finally sunk into you. “Fuck darlin’, if you keep squeezin’ me like that, this is going to be over faster than we both want,” he cursed from above you. 

“Fuck Ty, I can't help it,” you whined. It didn't take long for you to adjust, and before you knew it, you were begging again. “Ty, move,” you begged. He started slow, building up a rhythm, and before long, he was letting out small groans in time to his thrusts.

The two of you fell into a breathless rhythm of give-and-take, sweat shining on Tyler's temple and your hair like a halo around your head. 

On a specific stroke, your eyes rolled back into your head. You shouted and dug your heels into his back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you squealed. 

“Yeah, right there, honey. Did I find your sweet spot,” he crooned. 

You clenched down, and he cursed. “Don't stop, Ty,” you cried. Your whole body felt lit up from the inside out. 

He pulled almost all the way out and swiftly pushed back in. Your bodies moved in tandem, a give and take until all you could do was grip his sweat-slicked bicep and hold on. 

“Fuck, I'm close, sweetheart. Give me one more, one more. Let me see you come undone for me,” he moaned. 

He reached down to rub your clit, and your back arched, your whole body like a live wire.

“Fuck, fuck, where,” he stammered. 

“Inside, fuck Tyler, please, give it to me. I’ve got an implant. Give it to me, baby,” you chanted. 

He groaned and fell forward to rest his head on your shoulder as he came. You both lay there for several moments, breathing harshly into each other's ears. 

Eventually, Tyler pulled you close and gently pulled out, shushing you gently as you whined. “I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he told you. You smiled to yourself and sunk deeper into the mattress. A second later, Tyler exited the in-suite bathroom and gently wiped you off with a warm washcloth. When he was done, he threw it in the hamper, crawled behind you, and spooned you close. He kissed your head and sighed in contentment. You both lay there in silence for a while, soaking up each other's warmth and drawing random patterns onto each other’s skin.

After a while, you pipped up. “I have to go back to Texas.” Tyler’s whole body tensed, but before he could say anything, you rolled over to face him and silenced him with a kiss. “I have a job to quit and a lease to break,” you told him gently, smiling. 

He grinned at you. “I think I know a place you can stay at so last minute,” he told you before leaning in for a kiss.

[midniqhtt]

joel miller

masterlist • pedro pascal characters • 07/08/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs four

one two three five

𑣲 adoration I @cowboymarcs

𑣲 rough I @/cowboymarcs

jackson had made joel soft, and while you delighted in the domesticity of it all, some small, shameful part of you missed how hard he fucked you when the world was ending.

𑣲 sun bleached flies part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 I @sempersirens

old secrets are brought to the surface when a new arrival in jackson threatens to disturb the peaceful home you have spent seven years perfecting

𑣲 make a move on me I @freelancearsonist

You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

𑣲 hard to handle I @punkshort

One year after Joel cheats on you and gets someone else pregnant, you run into him for the first time.

𑣲 the way we were I @/punkshort

You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. When the outbreak happens, you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

𑣲 look what we’ve become I @/punkshort

You are tasked with taking a young girl back to her family while trying to salvage your relationship with Joel after certain events cause the biggest strain either of you have ever had to face.

𑣲 gym!joel blurb I @tightjeansjavi

𑣲 qz! joel hcs I @/tightjeansjavi

𑣲 twisted games I @jobean12-blog

You never win when you play games with Joel but while losing in a game of Twister you get an idea that might just make you a winner...or not.

𑣲 have a little pun I @/jobean12-blog

Joel has more than one reason to smile now. 

𑣲 after the rain I @mrsmando

when life as you know it comes crashing down around your ears, only joel can fix it.

𑣲 moon and stars I @alrightieaphroditie

joel rears his big, brown puppy dog eyes at you while you’re stitching him back together. a promise is made.

𑣲 the shop around the corner I @sawymredfox

Meet cutes only happen in movies, right?

𑣲 is it that sweet I @joelscruff

you probably shouldn't let some random middle aged man on the beach take nude photos of you, right? right?

𑣲 imperfect for you I @/joelscruff

you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby.

𑣲 his sweet secret I @ozarkthedog

joel fucks you over the kitchen sink.

𑣲 seven days, six nights I @hellishjoel

You get jumped in the QZ after a deal gone south and hide yourself from Joel to keep him safe. After eventually finding you and learning the truth behind your injuries, he heals you and promises revenge.

𑣲 a future together I @kteague

What if Joel had been in a relationship when the outbreak started? What if they were still together 20 years later?

𑣲 underneath the stars I @leviathanspain

you realize too late that he wasn’t just your best friend.

𑣲 she’s a gun I @cowgurrrl

Somebody didn’t give the new guy a heads up about talking about Joel Miller’s family

𑣲 my girl now I @psychedelic-ink

joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

𑣲 aquatic rehabilitation I @/psychedelic-ink

Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.

𑣲 perfectly wrong I @/psychedelic-ink

Joel thinks you have the car battery that he so desperately needs and doesn't believe you when you say that you don't.

𑣲 sleeping bag I @quin-ns

you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his

𑣲 for you, anything I @mellowsaturns

joel do what he does best, smuggling and taking care of you

𑣲 one bed I @frannyzooey

𑣲 overloaded w/tommy I @katiexpunk

After catching your ex-boyfriend in your bed with another woman, you pack up and leave. With no money and no car, you end up hitchhiking back to Texas. You're lucky enough to catch a ride with a nice Trucker named Joel. Things quickly heat up between you two, and only get hotter when you meet his brother.

𑣲 i can’t sleep I @wingzsz

After settling in at Jackson, Joel broke up with you. You try avoiding him in order to get ahold of your emotions but that all backfires.

𑣲 untitled part 2 I @joelslastofus

Joel is secretly in love with Tommy’s girlfriend and comforts her while his brother is in jail.

𑣲 jealous joel pt 2 I @/joelslastofus

Joel deals with his jealousy as Tommy and you get more serious.

𑣲 forgive me I @mothandpidgeon

When Joel finds himself in possession of some sexy photos, temptation makes him question himself as he's fascinated by a woman he's never met.

𑣲 aunt flo’s I @/mothandpidgeon

After Sarah gets her first period, Joel is determined to be a supportive parent despite the fact that he doesn't know the first thing about menstruation. But when he goes to the pharmacy to shop for supplies, he finds himself in way over his head.

𑣲 picture I @/softlyspector

You really want to take Joel's picture. He can't really figure out why.

𑣲 sea salt I @/softlyspector

You need to escape an unwanted engagement. Joel reluctantly helps you.

𑣲 fake it I @hier--soir

does joel know you well enough to know when you're faking it?

𑣲 back to texas I @/hier--soir

joel goes back to his house in texas

𑣲 refined taste I @josephquinnswhore

joel relishes in the taste of you.

𑣲 give me tonight I @alltheirdamn

joel has to leave

𑣲 didn’t catch my bloody nose w/ tommy I @swiftispunk

the miller brothers are good at sharing their toys, but god forbid the toy should break.

𑣲 letting go I @supernaturalgirl20

you think Joel doesn’t care, the problem is, he cares too much.

𑣲 if you like piña coladas I @gutsby

You secretly make Joel a profile on Hinge. Then he shows you exactly why he doesn’t need one.

𑣲 trial and error I @thetriumphantpanda

Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you’ve ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That’s what brothers are for, right?

𑣲 endure and survive I @morallyinept

𑣲 move I @/morallyinept

A kind, but handsome, neighbour helps you out on moving in day.

𑣲 neighborhood walgreens I @deantfwinchester

A busy, sick Joel gets a little care from the people in his life - including the neighbor and friend he's been crushing on for the past few months.

𑣲 room for three w/ arthur morgan I @morning-star-joy

When Joel and Arthur get caught in a storm and need a place to stay, they weren't expecting to find you—a temptress who offers them shelter in your cabin, and wants nothing more than for the two rugged cowboys to keep you warm.

𑣲 a simple trade I @munsonownsmyass

When Joel spots some coffee, he's willing to trade just about anything to get it.

𑣲 stranded I @joelscurls

your shitty boyfriend dumps you on the side of the road after a fight. joel miller finds you.

𑣲 you gave me something to lose I @stylesispunk

Joel is afraid of losing you.

𑣲 blushing I @talaok

Ellie tries to convince Joel of how obvious it is he likes you.

𑣲 drooling I @/talaok

you find a lake and convince ellie and joel to take a swim, according to ellie, giving joel the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings for you.

𑣲 incentive I @/talaok

Ellie makes you convince Joel to not get back on the road yet, and you find a way to persuade him.

𑣲 not a thing part 2 I @pedrospatch

You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

𑣲 pistol I @cosmictheo

during a stormy night at bill and frank's house, joel teaches you how to hold your gun, and this opens up the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally release all the feelings of longing and lust you've been repressed for each other over the past few weeks.

𑣲 jealously, jealously part 2 I @peterparkersnose

Joel is jealous seeing Y/N with another man across the bar

𑣲 lovers and love I @/peterparkersnose

Y/N tries to hide that she is pregnant and Joel finds out

𑣲 hairspray I @/peterparkersnose

Sarah finds Y/N’s hidden pregnancy tests

𑣲 daisies I @ohraicodoll

Because the women of Jackson have nothing better to do than set their eyes on Joel Miller.

𑣲 heart to heart I @neo-nomatrix

You’ve been traveling with Henry and Sam for over a year now. Once you meet Joel and Ellie your entire world changes.

𑣲 not-so formal introduction I @guess-my-next-obsession

𑣲 slice of paradise I @bubbles-for-all-of-us

Joel dream of having a farmhouse comes true. What makes it even better is that he's not there alone. He has his own little family to enjoy this little slice of paradise with him.

𑣲 butterfly I @/bubbles-for-all-of-us

When Joel thinks that his life is over his little butterfly sends him a new reason to stay alive. The only problem is that he doesn't know how to love but when you are the meaning of love itself how can he not fall.

𑣲 we bleed together I @/bubbles-for-all-of-us

what if the last day of humanity was different? What if instead of loosing Sarah, Joel lost you - the mother of his two children and the person who had built him up to a better man.

𑣲 cold as ice I @/bubbles-for-all-of-us

what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.

𑣲 my heart is yours I @/bubbles-for-all-of-us

Jackson doesn't seem to kill the fears in Joel's mind, only awaking new kind of doubts. Can you actually be in love with him or is it a hopeless dream that Joel is chasing?

𑣲 don’t let me drown I @alloftheimagines

in which the reader falls into the river of death, and it's joel's job to save you and find shelter. featuring ellie.

𑣲 first kill I @/alloftheimagines

in which the reader is forced to take a life for the first time in order to save the man she loves.

𑣲 lament of my heart I @ay0nha

“Tommy…”  Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

𑣲 for her part 2 part 3 I @wardenparker and @absurdthirst

Low on supplies and needing rest, Joel and Ellie stop in a colony he has heard about to restock on their journey west, but Joel finds far more than be bargained for within the city walls.

𑣲 apocalypse I @nikka-v

two guests arrive, she found a herself crushing on the handsome, older man.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 5 – The One About the Distorted Phone Screen that Sent Half the Fandom into the Ocean

I had no intention of writing about last week’s phone screen debacle, mainly because I found it obnoxious and a smidge infuriating. Not because I believed Jake to be on the phone screen but because people were SO QUICK TO BELIEVE it was Jake on the phone screen.

Honestly, I didn’t even need to see the “cleaned up” version of the picture because I would have sworn then – and would still swear now – it was Luke on the screen. White guy, dark hair, left hand touching his face (or, as it’s been suggested, removing sunglasses), signaling to me that the person in the photograph was left hand dominant. Add that in with all the information Luke and Nicola have laid out before us over the past three months (and, honestly, probably even before that) and there is no other answer: it’s Luke. The end, right? Nope, not even close. Like I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, we’re not allowed to have nice things.

The image comes from a video of Golda giving Nicola her WOTY award. People started taking screen grabs and dropping it into apps that claimed to clean up blurry images.

*Fun fact – I did this once to the picture of Nicola on the boat in Malta. I used three separate apps, in fact, and each time I got this frightening image of Nicola back. Do you remember the scene in Shrek where he picked up a frog and blew it into a balloon for Fiona? The frog’s eyes protruded out and his face was all puckered. That’s what I got back from these apps – a bulging-eyed monstrosity that looked nothing like Nicola. It was froggin’ weird (my Colin-Dad joke of the day), especially since, in the original image, you couldn’t even see her eyes as she appeared to be looking down at her phone.

Okay, back to what I was blabbing about…

People started adjusting the lighting on the screen grab of Nicola’s phone to extreme levels. And, there were even rumors flying around that people had superimposed Jake’s face on to the image and sent it out into the black abyss that is social media. I think I saw six different versions of the image within the first four hours of it dropping on X.

But, guess what, each time, I still saw Luke. Well, I take that back. One time, I swear I saw Johnny Bailey, which, if that had been true, I would have given Nicola a huge round of applause for being so hilariously catty about it all.

My advice, if you want to see the picture, pull it yourself. Go to YouTube, take a screen grab of it, and figure it out on your own. Do not put it through an app and don’t play with the lighting so much that it distorts the image. You may have noticed that I did not repost any of those images here. That was intentional. Form your own opinion about it.

Now that we have that out of the way – the part about me believing it was Luke on the phone screen and me suggesting you form your own opinion about it – I’ll move on to why I decided to write about this topic today.

It was because Luke did something yesterday that piqued my interest.

It wasn’t anything necessarily out of the ordinary. But, it also kind of was.

Simone Ashley posted to her grid yesterday a series of photographs. There’s nothing special here; she’s a beautiful woman putting her lovely image out into this world. It was the last picture in this slide deck that left me intrigued, though. It’s a picture of Simone – but, at the bottom left of the image, is a damn phone screen. Initially, I was a little confused by the image on the phone screen because it appeared to be Simone’s hands but also not Simone’s hands. What it was, is that the angle of the phone made the angle in which the image was depicted slightly different. Why not crop that phone out of it? Or, use a different image? Okay, whatever. I’m not sure I would have thought much of it – except Luke liked the post.

Why would this activate my little grey cells? Because it’s the first post of Simone’s in over a year that he has liked without Nicola also liking it. All throughout 2024, Luke has only liked the posts also liked by Nicola. Now, Nicola could very easily come back and like this post today or tomorrow or a week from now. She does like Simone’s posts frequently and, by Simone’s own words, Nicola and Simone are close. But, remember what I mentioned the other day. It’s the little changes that make people start giving the side eye. When taken collectively, Simone’s post, Luke’s like on the post, and the recent phone screen debacle seem, well, fucking connected in a damn funny way.

Kinda? Maybe?

I swear, I’m becoming one of those people who now plays Six Degrees to Lukola. What have I become?!

But, hey, let’s keep playing this game because, you have to admit, it IS kind of fun to speculate.

On November 10, Netflix UK dropped a post to its grid captioned “ME AND WHO???? [red heart]” The first slide in the deck is of Colin and Penelope’s wedding kiss – the one where Luke had his eyes open – and there is a red heart drawn between their chests (awe, their hearts). The remaining seven slides also include kissing couples but the red heart is drawn around their heads. The Luke and Nicola (like how I used Luke and Nicola, not Colin and Penelope this time?) picture stands out in this deck. It’s the first slide and the red heart is different than the others. And, what about that caption: “ME AND WHO????” Well, it's definitely NOT Nicola and Jake.

Is it a bit too far down the Delulu Rabbit Hole to believe Netflix would be in on a dig about “Who’s on Nicola’s phone screen?”

Perhaps.

But, remember this is also the same parent company that dropped “Nicola and Luke’s Cutest Moments” on August 28 (via Bridgerton Netflix IG), right smack dab in the middle of the Jake Festival Pap Disaster. Do you remember that? The fandom was bouncing all over the place. New festival pictures of Nicola and Jake had dropped the day before. Shondaland had also dropped a “Friends to Lovers” story that seemed oddly like Luke and Nicola. Melissa Dezarate dropped old Luke and Nicola pictures on her IG stories. Then, on August 28, Bridgerton Netflix dropped its “Cutest Moments,” and Melissa Dezarate shared more Luke and Nicola pictures on her IG stories. The “Cutest Moments,” pretty much entirely on its own (the rest was just extra frosting), turned our day right side up again. I salute you, Netflix.

Are we burrowing deeper into the Rabbit Hole? Meh. Let’s keep going.

Also on November 10, we had Dougie posting a mirror / elevator selfie to his grid with the caption, “I know it’s out of focus don’t tell me that.” Maybe he means something, maybe he doesn’t. Any ways, Jake liked this post. Now, I will admit, in the beginning of this Jake Side Story Extravaganza, I wasn’t keen on Dougie. He seemed aggressive on X – especially after those New York pap pictures dropped – but then I realized that his annoyance might be due to the narratives being spread about Jake, i.e., that he was being “hard launched” with Nicola. Recall that within a few hours of the Jake London Pap Disaster, Dougie posted to his stories an image of Jake looking at his phone with the “Mike/Sully Face Swap” meme superimposed over Jake’s face. If you research what this meme means, you’ll find that it is similar to a face-palm reaction or used for “overly ironic situations that leave you confused and perplexed.” Kind of funny, right? You’re welcome to take Dougie however you please, but over the past few weeks, I’ve become rather fond of him. He seems like a mischievous bloke, which is right up my alley.

I always have this feeling that the USS Lukola is surrounded by people who, after the ship hits a rogue wave, help to steer it back on course. The “people” come in the form of Nicola and Luke; cast, crew and friends; interviewers with their old edited-out snippets; and Netflix & Co. I’m sure I’m failing to name someone.

I shall wrap this post up with a quote from Jonathan Van Ness – who, by the way, is one of the most entertainingly funny and intelligent humans to watch. Earlier this week, JVN posted to his IG stories and Tiktok about “bobs.” With JVN, I never really know if he is being serious with what he puts out there or if we’re expected to read between the lines. Regardless, his comment was impactful to me:

“All this shit is just someone on Tiktok decided this was going to be the new name and tried to make that a trend. And that’s cool and that’s great and I love that. I just don’t want y’all getting confused. You know what I’m saying? This is just another variation of a bob.”

Take that as you please.

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls chapter 11 2/2

Masterpost

He leaned back a little.

There was a very strange silence. Jack’s face initially turned to fury, then a shocked contemplation. Jason waited it out and wondered if he was going to get in trouble for shooting a civilian in genuine self defense.

“Son.” Jack’s voice was grave. “You’re not Jeremy Waters, are you?”

It took a moment to parse through the immediate offense that this guy had busted his cover and to actually register the full name.

Oh, fuck. That Jeremy? The cult guy? Jason made a face involuntarily. “I am not,” he admitted. Oof. Fuck. Here it goes. “I lied because I wanted to be sure you would meet with me.”

“...Honey!” Jack shouted. He shot up in an alarmingly fast motion for such a big man. “Uh, change of plans! Why don’t you get what we all drink on movie nights?”

Something broke in the other room. “Oh, dear,” said Dr. Fenton. “Just a moment.” A vacuum started up. What the actual fuck was going on in there?

“You thought I was that creep?” Jason said blankly. “What were you going to do?” What sounded like a high pressure hose started up in the other room. He had to deliberately decide not to hunch his shoulders defensively. Jesus fucking christ. They were definitely mad scientists.

Jack Fenton looked shifty. “...Talk,” he tried.

Jason looked at the older man. He didn’t say anything. Jack gradually began to look sheepish but he didn’t break.

“Don't worry about it, honey,” Madeleine Fenton said. She set down three alarmingly green glasses and gave him a close-lipped smile.

Jason was very much going to worry about it. He looked between the two of them.

“Melon soda!” Jack Fenton cheered, obviously overreacting to get out of the conversation. He put both his hands up in the air and then grabbed at his glass. “Yummy! So good for growing young men, drink up.” He laughed awkwardly and then buried his face in his own drink.

Meanwhile, Dr. Madeline Fenton looked at him with catlike consideration. She clearly wanted to see him drink the soda.

He was pretty sure they'd been planning to get rid of Jeremy Waters, permanently. Mixed feelings on that, since Waters clearly sucked. He’d human trafficked Jason to the afterlife, after all. On the other hand, you can’t assume someone is chill when you know they want to kill someone. “No thank you,” he said to the melon soda, stomach a little queasy. Even if Jack was drinking it. And the glasses were identical.

“That’s fair,” Dr. Fenton said and sank into the couch cushion next to her husband. “So, you were interested in learning about the Ghost Zone and the afterlife?” She exchanged a meaningful look with her husband. “Any… particular reason?”

These people were intense when they goggled at a guy.

“Nothing I’m ready to talk about yet,” he evaded. It had the advantage of being true. He didn’t know how Jack made him yet.

They proceeded to have a somewhat tense conversation where the Fentons happily elaborated on all their current research and repeated, “I’m sorry, but we’ve withdrawn that work and won’t discuss it,” whenever he mentioned a publication from before 5 years ago. They’d even gone and gotten a lot of their stuff redacted. They talked and talked until Jason’s throat was hoarse. The Drs. Fenton were a brick wall on those topics that he couldn’t bust or wheedle past.

‘What does a person who posts about ghosts on their family blog think to redact?’ Jason wondered.

Eventually, Jack held up both hands. “It’s bothering me that you won’t drink anything,” he admitted. “Let’s go the Nasty!”

“Good idea, honey,” Dr. Fenton agreed. She stood and swung keys around her finger. “I’ll drive!”

Jack Fenton let out a dramatic “Awww, honey bunches,” and followed her around wheedling for a chance to get behind the wheel.

“No, we don’t want to scare our guest.” Dr. Fenton was immovable. A bit ominous as well.

Jason thought about pointing out that he hadn’t agreed to come with them, but he stood up anyways. It wasn’t like he could just sit on their couch and watch them leave their own house.

He had his first inkling of how badly he’d initially fucked up on that phone call when they got outside. Jack pulled the canvas off the family van with a flourish to reveal an absolutely horrific mural of Danny the ghost king giving gifts to humanity. There was text explaining his generosity, scrolling across the bottom of the van.

Jason stood stock still in horror.

The van gave off the same general impression as psychedelic howling wolf print art.

Jason put a hand over his mouth and tried to process it.

Danny’s white hair floated nobly across a few more feet than Jason was pretty sure it should. He was also kinda built in this painting compared to reality and he looked more… kingly. Not that Danny wasn’t in shape, but he was built more like Dr. Fenton than Jack Fenton, if that made sense.

Wait. Why’d he made that comparison? That should have been a frame of reference for Danny Fenton, not Danny the ghost king. …Was the ghost king basing his form off the Fenton’s kid?

“Come on, son!” Jack slapped him on the back. The force was enough to jar Jason forward and out of his dissociative state.

He moved numbly. ‘Alright, they like Danny king,’ Jason managed to think through the wound to his artistic soul. ‘I can be honest with them about the problem. They’ll want to help him get a spiritual separation from some sketchy guy who lied to them.’

They took him to a mid-tier burger restaurant with weird pretensions. The burge had both garlic aioli and shitty neon nacho cheese sauce on it. Jason picked at it for a while, disturbed and pleased by the unexpected combination.

They got back into their discussion. The next time a Fenton asked him a question, he cleared his throat and put down what was left of his burger. “I asked about Phantom because I’m in a little bit of trouble with him.”

It was weird to call him Phantom when he’d introduced himself as Danny. On the other hand, the Fentons also had a kid named Danny, so it was probably for the best.

Jack’s smile faltered. “What kind of trouble, sport?”

Jason shifted in his chair. “I uh. I may have gotten in Waters’ way. I didn’t know who he was,” he admitted. “Next thing I knew, I was in this green place?” He made a confused hand gesture. “Few minutes later, Phantom shows up, kinda pissy, asked if I did it on purpose, and then says that Waters basically.” He stopped to clear his throat. “Spiritually married us to each other.” His voice got a bit smaller than he meant it to.

That meant there was no audio competition for the loud crack when Madeline Fenton broke the table.

“Jesus fuck,” Jason said, looking at her with wide eyes. “Is your hand-”

She put her elbows on top of the tabletop that still existed and cupped her chin on her palms. “Tell me more.”

“You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you,” said Jack consideringly. “Maddie, honeybunches, d’you know, I was thinking about tracking down the Wishiewish ghostie again today. D’you think-”

“Oh, he should absolutely come with you,” Dr. Fenton agreed. She was beaming. It… did not feel villainous.

‘Why did telling them that make her less scary all of a sudden?’

“What do you like about Phantom? Do you think he’s cute? Was he nice to you?”

Maybe she was just a romantic.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Summer Heat

Pairings: Matt Rempe x Female reader

I know I said I’d never write for him, but I’m trying something new for the new year. He’s grown on me, and I wanted to shake up my blog a little bit. Please be nice. I’m treading unfamiliar waters here.

Let me know what you guys think!

Warnings: Drug consumption(weed), mentions of drinking, skinny dipping, nudity, kissing, sex, references to sex

The music was pounding so loud it was making your chest hurt as you made your way through the house, sidestepping a puddle of liquid you hoped was alcohol and left the kitchen. Sweaty bodies of people you’d known for years were laughing, dancing, toasting and doing keg stands in every corner of the room and you smiled a little as you watched it.

Summer was arguably the best time of the year here at home. Everyone was suddenly free of plans and responsibilities, and parties erupted at the drop of a hat. What had started as a casual hangout with just a few people had evolved into a rager and you were having a great fucking time.

“Hey!” You turned in time to receive a giant ass slap from Darcy, your best friend as she came up behind you “I’ve been looking for you for ages. Where were you?”

“In the bathroom…” you trailed off, reaching in your pocket and glancing over your shoulder as you pulled out a joint, twirling it between your fingers “Wanna take a walk.”

“Hell yeah I do come on.” She followed you out the back door and off the deck, weaving in and out of people and heading past the rows of cars till you reached your own and the two of you huddled behind it.

You gripped it between your fingers as she flicked the lighter and lit it. The embers glowed bright orange in the darkness as you took a drag, inhaling and handed it to her so she could do the same. As she took her own hit and blew out the cloud of smoke you heard a voice.

“DEA hands up.”

You both turned, joint still in her hand and came face to face with a waist, eyes moving up till they landed on a face. A familiar face.

Matt Rempe.

“Damn. I think you got taller.” You said with a small laugh and a cough.

“Nah that’s just the weed talking.” He said with a chuckle, stretching an arm out and tapping his fingers together at the blunt. Darcy passed it to him and let out a long exhale of smoke.

“I didn’t know you were back.” She said glancing over at you.

Your relationship with him was weird. While you were pretty good friends, it had always been on the verge of something else. It would become intensely flirtatious for several days and then fizzle out. Each time it happened it got flirtier and filthier than the last and Darcy swore this time was when it was going to blossom, and then nothing happened. When he returned home, and you saw him again, both of you acted like it never happened the next time you saw him. It wasn’t even a situationship. More like a flirtationship. You’d never even kissed the guy, though you wanted to, but at this point it had been going on since highschool and it was getting a little bit old. Either he liked you or he didn’t, but days of flirting and then nothing at 22 was just annoying. After the last time, in which several photos and vulgarities had been exchanged and then he faded out of your life, again, you swore to Darcy over a Vodka Cranberry, that you were done with him romantically, sexually and flirtatiously forever. Realistically though, the three of you had the same circle of friends so it wouldn’t be possible to avoid him forever. Sooner or later you would have to see him. You had just hoped it wouldn't be this soon.

“Yeah aren’t you supposed to be in jail or something?” You said with a snarky smile. You weren’t saying it to be funny. You were saying it to be rude and Darcy knew it based on the small giggle she let out. You weren’t about to tell him you’d been keeping tabs on his season, but you had. He’d made quite the impression when he hit the NHL and it was impossible to not see him all over the internet. You would be lying if you hadn’t watched him fighting online multiple times. Even if he lost, it was totally hot.

But you would never EVER tell him that.

“Nah they can’t catch me.” He mumbled, joint between his lips as he took a drag. He blew out the smoke glancing up at the sky and then at you “So what’s up with you? I haven’t heard from you in like 5 months.” He swatted an ash off the end of it before he handed it back to Darcy.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.” You said crossing your arms. Darcy glanced between you and cleared her throat, extinguishing the end of the joint and putting it in her pocket.

“I need to pee. I’ll be back…later.” She sent you a small smile and an arm squeeze as she walked past you “Good to see you Matt.” She called over her shoulder as she made her way up the front yard.

“So?” He asked again “What’s up?” He was looking at you expectantly and you weren’t really sure what he wanted. He knew why he hadn’t heard from you, he just wanted to hear you say it.

You shrugged “Nothing really. Just doing my own thing.”

He frowned “So that means we can’t talk?”

“No. It just means that I’m not waiting around for your week of flirting and dirty talk and then nothing anymore. I’m too old for that and it’s getting tiring.”

He looked clueless “I didn’t know it was a problem. And what dirty talk?” He said with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes “It’s not. But either you like me or you don’t at this point. And come on. How is “I’m going to bend you over and fuck you stupid” not dirty talk?”

Even in the darkness you could see his face turn red and he coughed “Do you think I would flirt with you if I didn’t like you? That’s dumb.” He said leaning down so he was almost at eye level with you.

“Nice aversion. Yeah? Then I guess I’m dumb.” You turned away, annoyed, but he caught you by the elbow, and turned you back around.

“Woah whoa whoa. Why didn’t you just like…ask me.” He was smiling a little “If you wanted to know that’s all you had to do. I thought we could talk about stuff like that.”

“I don’t know. I just felt like if you did you would have made it clearer than just random flirting now and again. You’ve been home. You never made a single attempt to get together while you were here and now you’ve just appeared at a party and I didn’t even know you were home.”

He nodded “Okay. That’s fair. Sorry I guess I just didn’t think you wanted anything out of it.”

“And if I did?” You said raising your chin “Want something?”

He glanced down at your feet and then all the way up, before his eyes landed back on your face and realization lit his eyes up like a lightbulb. Talk about dumb. You leaned forward a little bit, motioning for him to come closer. His lips were almost touching yours when you leaned your head back and stepped away from him, pulling your elbow from his grip.

“I think I’m going to go swimming.” You turned on your heel, making your way down to the lake as quickly as possible to beat him there, knowing he was following, but also forgetting he was a real life giraffe and would likely be right on your heels.

“Wait hey what-“ he called from behind you, but you weren’t waiting around for him to question you further.

You hurried down the crude rock steps, the only sound being the music as it grew more faint and the slap of your flip flops against the ground as you neared the water. It was probably terribly cold, and there was nothing sexy about lake water, but it would have to do for now. Your entire body felt hot and sweaty and you needed to cool down. Plus you had almost kissed him and then chickened out so you needed to actually go swimming now to cover it up and make it seems like you were being coy. The weed had kicked in by now and the edges of your brain felt fuzzy as you neared the water, a haze coming down over your eyes and in an instant your chi was centered and you felt relaxed enough to let your guard down.

As you reached the edge, and kicked your shoes off you turned to find him halfway down the bank.

“Hey how are we going to go swimming if-“ but the words died on his tongue as you looked him in the eye and pulled your shirt over your head and kicked your shorts off, leaving you completely naked. He stood open mouthed, frozen mid step as his eyes loved all the way down to your feet and back up.

“Answer your question?” You called as you hurried into the water, praying to every god imaginable that no one else had seen you besides him. You made it a point to only be naked in front of a limited number of people and as Darcy had seen you naked countless times, and now Matt, two people at one party was enough. The water was frigid and the only thing that kept you from screaming was the fact that your body was on fire from the near kiss and your strip show just seconds prior. What was in that joint. Whatever it was disappeared as the shock of the cold water had sent you straight back into sobriety.

You were already chest deep in the water by the time he reached the waters edge and you turned your back while he undressed, scrunching your eyes shut from the cold before turning around to find he’d paused, shirt half off.

“So you rip your clothing off and then don’t want to watch me do the same? What gives?”

“It’s not fair that you get a great view and I get an average one now is it?” You said turning away from him, legs kicking under the water.

He made a noise of indignation from the bank and then mumbled something too quiet for you to hear. You heard him wade into the water but didn’t turn around until the splashing quieted. When you did, he was waist deep watching as you swam around.

“I can’t figure you out.” He said after a moment, moving forward a little bit.

“What’s the figure out?” You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, gently moving your legs so you were almost floating. The water in your ears was drowning out the music from the party behind you, and the moon was shining down on the water, catching each ripple as it came off of your body moving gently in the water.

“Well I don’t know but you almost just kissed me up there, stripped, now you won’t even look at me. Is this a test?” He asked wading in deeper. He looked confused and for a second you almost felt bad but then you remembered your whole relationship with him was confusing and the pity went away.

“If it was you’d be failing.”

He was closer now, almost up to his shoulders in the water, circling around you like a shark “So you like me right?”

“What makes you think that?” You asked turning to watch him as he made his way in a circle. You stayed low in the water, the end of your ponytail just touching the surface, careful to keep all your vital parts covered.

He looked down at the water and then back up and smiled “I mean. You are naked under there so.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Your legs were burning from treading water and you were hopeful the slimy thing that had just touched your ankle was a fish. Playing coy naked and cold was no easy feat “Darcy’s seen me naked before. That doesn’t make you special.”

“Really?” He said appreciatively eyebrows raised “But you didn’t almost kiss her….wait. Did you?

You shrugged and made a face “I’ll never tell.” As you turned to swim away, you felt an arm slide around your waist and hold you in place. He wasp ressed against you from behind, and any chill you had was gone now. He slid a hand across your waist, and turned you to face him.

The kiss was slow, wet, sloppy and a little bit awkward as he pulled you closer, wet hands and limbs sliding against eachother as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself up to reach him. Kissing him was weird after the build up over the years. Though it was all your expected it to be, you felt like things just weren’t right.

After a moment he pulled away, and looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“That was-“

“Yeah.” You answered, arms still around his shoulders. He had a large hand on either side of your waist and he chewed on his lip.

“Should we try again? You know. For science.”

You giggled and then shivered a little but nodded “Okay. For science.”

When he kissed you again, it was different. It was like you’d figured eachother out now, mouths fitting together perfectly. You gripped the hair that was wet and stuck to his neck, as he ran his tongue along your lower lip. You felt like the water was boiling as his hands moved lower down your back, moving beneath the water to slide under your legs and hoist you up.

Your heart was hammering but before you could do anything further, a sudden breeze reminded you that you were now half out of the water and completely naked.

“Uhm. I’m committing a crime here. It’s called indecent exposure.” You whispered against his mouth. He glanced down and smiled.

“I’d say that’s pretty decent.” He set you down and glanced around to make sure you were still alone.

“Let’s…get out of here. I’ll get your clothes.”

You sank lower in the water and took a large, deep breath eyes closing.

You knew what was coming, and the anticipation of it was making you shiver, or maybe that was the water, or even the weed which you had hoped would chill you out but it hadn’t. Either way you needed a towel, a blanket and a cold drink asap.

“Coast is clear.” He motioned for you to get out and held up his shirt so you could slip your bra and shorts back on and extended a hand to pull you up the bank.

The air still had a little chill in it in mid June as you followed along behind him silently, teeth chattering for a few moments before you asked “Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure honestly” he said with a small chuckle and a glance over his shoulder “We could leave I guess. Go somewhere.”

“We can’t go to my house.” You said shaking your head “No boys allowed, and I’m not doing anything in there.” You pointed at the house behind you. You’d accidentally walked in on two hookups before he got there, once in a bedroom and one in the bathroom and while you hoped it had been great for both of them, you didn’t want to be on the other end of that.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes “We’re in our 20s. It’s supposed to be easier to find places to hook up not harder.” He turned to face you now, resting a hand on either shoulder and looked down, running his thumb across your collarbone “We can drive to my apartment, but it’s like 40 minutes from here.”

“Can you wait that long?” You asked arching an eyebrow.

He smiled slowly “No.” He said as he pinned you against the side of the car, hands everywhere as he kissed you heavily. You couldn’t breath, your skin was hot and your shorts were wet in a way that had nothing to do with the lake water you’d never dried off.

“My car. Let’s go to my car.” You gasped out pointing to it and giving him a nudge. You realized then that you were still wearing only a bra and your shorts were unbuttoned and you were standing way out in the open, making out against someone’s car. He leaned around you to look at it, a 4 door Honda and scoffed.

“There’s no way I’m fitting in that backseat.” He said shaking his head “No way.”

“Uhmmmmmm.” You looked around “What about that backseat?” You pointed at Darcy’s SUV that you knew was unlocked. She would let you use it if it meant you were getting laid and she wouldn’t get mad.

And even if she did, you’d get it detailed for her.

“Who’s car is that?” He asked as you pushed him towards it.

“Does it matter? Who cares just get inside.”

“Okay damn.” He said pulling the door open and holding it for you to leaned down and pull the seats down. You felt your shorts slipping down your legs, and you were sure the strap of your thong was hanging out the top of them, so you hoped he was enjoying the show. As you struggled with the lever, you felt him grab either side of your hips and pull you back a little so your ass was against his front. You gasped and jumped, bumping your head on the car door frame, as one of his hands splayed across your lower back.

“What is this?” You half turned to find him staring down at your lower back.

The tattoo

You’d forgotten all about the collection of little flowers that had been inked across the skin of your lower back, right above your thong line.

He glanced between it and you several times before he gave you a push “Get in the car.”

You crawled inside to pull the other one down, and he was on you before you had time to completely pull the lever. You went flying backwards as the lever released and he pushed you back at the same time. Lips moving feverishly against each others he moved over top of you as you backed yourself up to the trunk. The carpet was already giving you rug burn on your elbows. You felt something soft brush against your shoulder and pulled yourself away to glance over.

You giggled “Look at this. She even has a blanket.”

“She’s gonna be the best soccer mom like maybe ever.” He said pushing his hair out of his eyes as you quickly laid it out behind you and turned back to him. He pushed himself up, hissing in pain when he hit his elbow on the back tire casing, before heaving himself forward, foot hitting the seat. He looked annoyed as he finally got comfortable and focused his attention back on you.

He leaned forward, hand sliding over your shoulder to grip the back of your neck and pull you forward. He’s gained some confidence now and any awkwardness there was before was gone. His weight came down on you as he kissed you again, tongue pushing right into your mouth this time. He ground his pelvis into yours causing you to gasp against his mouth, and let out a tiny noise of surprise. He slid a bra strap down your shoulder, long fingers sliding pleasantly across your skin. As you leaned up to move your mouth across the underside of his jaw you were pulled immediately back down.

“Wait your on-my hair hang on-“ you said tapping his elbow.

He moved up and cracked the top of his head on the window with a loud smack “Ow Jesus CHRIST.” He growled frustratedly rubbing the spot as he fell forward, his weight collapsing on you and knocking the wind from your lungs.

You huffed in annoyance, eyes finding his in the darkness “This isn’t working.”

“Your right. We’re gonna have to find a bed.”

“If there’s one you can fit in. Move over, let’s try this.” You wiggled out from under him, taking the opportunity to kick your shorts completely off and pushed him backwards by the shoulders, swinging a leg over him so you straddled his midsection.

He leaned backward, hands coming up to rest on your thighs and glanced upwards. You raised yourself upwards a few times to ensure that your head wouldn’t hit the ceiling before your eyes moved down his torso.

“Take this off.” You breathed out, tugging at the hem of his shirt. He was bigger, broader than he had been since the last you’d seen him, and you needed to examine every inch. He had always been long and lanky, but over the course of his season away muscle had started to pad his frame.

He leaned upwards and pulled his shirt over the back of his head, tossing it to the side and leaning up to kiss the underside of your jaw, mouth leaving a wet trail down your neck to your collarbone. His body felt hot against yours and he slid both his hands up your legs to your waist. You fumbled, hands shaking, with the button and the zipper on his shorts, finally springing them open and yanking them down, tossing them playfully at him. He smiled and propped himself up on his elbows to watch you as you kissed the base of his throat, and made you way down his upper body. You glanced up and leaned down, leaving a wet open mouth kiss on his abdomen, never breaking eye contact as you pulled the waistband of his boxers down agonizingly slow.

“Jesus.” He said throwing his head back against the floor of the cargo hold with a soft thump. You pulled them off, over his legs and tossed them in the front seat, making a mental note of where they landed so Darcy didn’t find them later.

“My turn.” He said snapping the band of your thong. You glanced down.

“How are you gonna get those off? You can’t sit up.”

He looked around and frowned “Fuck.” He let his head fall backwards and his hands fell to his sides “I hate this car. You do it. But do it really slow.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up and slid them slowly down your legs till they were at your knees and looked up.

He was staring at them, lips pursed, eyes squinted for several seconds before he looked up at your face “Just you wait till I get us to a bed.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you wiggled them off and made your way back up.

The windows in Darcy’s SUV had started to fog up and you were glad she’d parked so far from the house because the amount of movement the car would be doing in a few minutes would be a dead giveaway as to what was happening inside.

A shiver went from your neck to your lady parts as you swung a leg over him, positioning yourself over him, You took a deep breath, pushing up on your knees before sinking down on him. The sensation of him inside you made your stomach flip sideways and stars explode across your vision for a split second. Your head fell backwards, hair spilling down your back as you braced a hand on the window. You let out a gasp, eyes closing and head falling forward as you lifted yourself up and did it again, going deeper this time. His eyes were closed, fingers gripping the skin on your hips tightly. You began to move up and down, the stretching sensation between your legs was almost overwhelming as you moved slowly. You placed a hand on his lower stomach to steady yourself and he opened his eyes to look up at you as you rocked your hips forward, the other hand braced on the window.

It was a long slow drag of friction that was almost overwhelming. The burn in your abdomen was unbearable, heat pooling in between your legs as you moved up and down. A thin sheen of sweat had appeared on his chest and your back as the air inside the car became thick and heavy, cold and hot, and your breath could be seen with every movement. Your legs and arms felt heavy, but you weren’t done yet.

“Tired?” He asked, sitting up slightly to palm your lower back.

You nodded and leaned forward on him, using the close proximity to thread your fingers through his hair and tip his head up to kiss you. He put a hand on either side of your waist and pulled you up and then back down, his own hips moving up to meet yours.

You let out a low moan as he did it again, hitting a new even deeper angle than before, digging your nails into the skin on the back of his neck. He moved his mouth across your chest, lips pressing lightly against your sternum as he helped you move up and down his length faster. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled your face down to his “Look at me.” He breathed as your orgasm hit you full force, you let out a strangled cry and your eyes slid closed, breath coming out in gasps.

You were spent, exhausted, and overheated, vision fuzzy as you leaned forward forehead resting on his shoulder. You could feel his heart beating and let out a long breath, looking up at him. He was smiling and reached a hand out to grip the side of your face, thumb stroking across your cheek.

“I told you I was gonna fuck you stupid.”

Your mouth fell open and you slapped his chest, kissing him on the cheek and easing off him. He reached into the front, grabbed the clothing and you both awkwardly got dressed in the small confines of the car without speaking. He got out first, glanced around and extended a hand for you to get out as well.

“I should find Darcy.” You said straightening your shorts out and smoothing your shirt.

He nodded and leaned against the side of Darcy’s car “What are you doing later?”

You pulled your phone out and checked the time “It’s 12:30.”

“And?” He said staring at you blankly.

“Nothing I guess. Why?”

“Come over.” He said with a smile.

“To do what?”

He just smiled and kissed your cheek before turning and making his way towards where his car was parked some feet away.

“Hey!” You called “Did you just come here to hook up with me and then leave.”

He smiled and shrugged “I’ll never tell. See you later.” He called as he disappeared into the darkness. You watched him leave, turning in time to see Darcy making her way over.

“There you are. Did you and him talk things out?”

“Oh. Yeah you could say that.” You trailed off.

“Have you been here at my car this whole time?” She was frowning as she watched his car pull out of the driveway and make its way down the street.

“Mhmm. So about your car…” you said clearing your throat, looking at her with a guilty expression.

Her frown disappeared and she looked at her suspiciously “You didn’t.”

“Oh we did.”

“Yeah right.” She said waving you off with a small laugh. When you didn’t say anything her smile faded “Your kidding. No? Not kidding.”

You shook your head and held back a giggle as her mouth fell open “Are you fucking kidding me? You climbed that tree? IN MY CAR?” She peered in the back to see the seats folded and her blanket spread across the cargo hold.

You blew out a long breath that ended in a laugh “After we skinny dipped.”

She gasped and clutched her heart, gripping your arm “This is the best day of my life. Is it everything I think it was? Did it live up to the dirty talk?”

“It did. Good call on that blanket by the way.”

“That’s my girl! Up top!” She grabbed your hand and slapped her own with it she grabbed your face and kissed you on the cheek. She swung an arm over your shoulder and reached in her pocket, pulling out the half smoked joint and waggled her eyebrows.

“Round two?”

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

‎[one / two / three / four / current / six...]

chapter five

"there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

word count: 6k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ i did something bad 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The kiss that started sweet and gentle turned into a passionate and steamy kiss in a fraction of a second. Franco felt kind of desperate. And to be fair, he was. He has waited his whole life for this moment to happen. Or at least all of these years since he met you. But he was convinced he won’t ever feel like this for any other girl in his entire life. He dated girls, fucked a few, played with them sometimes, tried to make it work. But none of them felt like you, laughed like you, thought like you, joked like you. None of them were you. And what was the craziest thing to him was that he had never tasted you. Not like this. He felt raised to heaven blessed by the gods. He felt like a kid who behaved properly and Santa brought him all of the presents he asked for during the year. A dream came true.  

His hands were all over your back and hips. His touch was warm and determined. He felt like he wanted to remember how you felt, the shape of you under his touch, how your skin felt, how warm he made you feel. 

His kisses were tracing a road down your neck. His lips were soft and wet. They made your skin crawl. Your fingers in his hair and shoulders trying to remain stood under his embrace. His skin was soft and his perfume was leaving you drunker by its whiskey scent. That smell defined him very well in your opinion. His skin was on fire. You couldn’t help but feel things you aren’t supposed to feel with your best friend. Well, you were doing things you’re not supposed to do with your bestie either. 

Your breath was heavy. Your heart rate elevated. He came back to your lips and the way he kisses you gently again burnt your body. You felt a heat you haven’t felt in a long time for anyone. If you didn’t remember to be this intense before. Franco was franco. And that implied that everything was different. Unique. He wasn’t like other guys. I mean, he was the most cheerful guy you have ever met. You couldn’t stop laughing around him. It  was impossible not to or have a serious conversation. But at the same time he was such a great listener. When you told him about Charles that you ended up crying, he was the most comforting person. You knew at that moment your friendship made a turn. A turn into one of the most precious relationships you have in your life. He was so comprehensive. It is actually so rare to meet someone like that in this fucked up society these days. 

And for some reason or maybe for all of those reasons, this felt really wrong. You didn’t want to hurt him. You always knew he liked you, of course you did. It was obvious. The way he looked at you. All out of context presents or compliments. All of his invitations to every grand prix during the year. The facetime calls at random times in the day just to check in. and you liked all of that but always tried to make sure you didn’t play with his feelings. Respecting spaces and distances. Codes. He was really important to you, you just couldn’t risk him just like that. Just for a kiss or sex. He deserved to be so happy with someone 100% into him. And you kinda hated destiny for making him like you when you were stuck with Charles and always into someone else (even failing every time). 

But now you hate yourself even more. Not only because you liked to torture yourself in a really twisted way. But also because you were actually kissing him and touching him in not a friendly way. Not the way you’re supposed to touch him. Or to kiss him. Or to spend your time with him. This was so wrong. You knew this would lead to drama. And the worst part is that you couldn’t stop. And maybe you didn’t want to. And why didn’t you? What is your brain planning to do? Making every situation you’re in worse than the previous one. 

And it was the worst scenario possible. You don’t know how you both ended up in Franco's room. His shirt was already off. Your lips were kissing his stomach going down. It was the best situation for him, that’s for sure. You promised to never get this drunk ever again. You stood up after reaching his boxers with your lips. And kissed him again like you wanted to rescued yourself from fuck it all up but at the same time not stopping at all. You were driving Franco insane and for a moment he felt a bit empty. Was this the beginning of something? Or was it just a once in a lifetime night? Thinking about all of this started hunting him. You have never given him signs that you liked him back. But you were one of his best friends. His hands grabbed your head possessively bringing you closer to him starting to lead you to his bed. You followed him, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. 

Were you ready to do this again? 

Surprising as it may sound, you haven’t had sex in a very long time. You liked to have fun with yourself and explore yourself. But it was hard for you to feel something towards someone and desire them this way. Because the only one who used to turn you on was charles. And there he was again in your head. He was always there hunting you. Franco pushed you softly into his bed climbing up on you. And that’s when you woke up from this trance you couldn’t quite comprehend. He was about to undress you when you pushed him again as softly as you could because you were now exasperated about the situation you put yourself under. Franco looked at you scared. He felt he has really fucked it up. 

“y/n i’m sorry, please. Perdon, I didn't mean to.. I’m sorry” he said, getting up and pulling his shirt on again as fast as he could. You tried to adjust yourself heading out the bedroom. You couldn’t face him now. You felt terrible about yourself. You didn’t know how to handle this situation. You were too drunk. But you also knew you wouldn’t know how to deal with this sober either. “y/n wait, please. Let’s talk” he could grab your hand to stop you from leaving the bedroom making you face him. You felt so embarrassed. You felt like a monster. You looked at his face. He was such a good guy and yet here you are about to break his heart. Why didn’t you stop? Why did you let him do this? You knew it was not only your responsibility, it was his as well but still. 

“I'm sorry fran, this shouldn’t have happened. I'm really sorry” when you said those words you could see how his face changed into a one that even broke your heart. He dropped your hand. He knew. He fucking knew you didn’t like him. Then why would you do this? And on his birthday?

You sprinted out of that room immediately. We can say you almost ran away from him. But the reality was that you wanted to run away from yourself and your stupid ass decisions who fucked everything up each single time. The hallway down to where the party was being held never felt so infinite. You knew your anxiety was becoming a bit too much for you at that moment. Catastrophic scenarios were playing on and on in your mind as you took each step down the stairs. The pressure in your chest increases when you see the people at the party. You felt like they were looking at you, judging. Laughing in your face. Howpathetic could you be? Not getting over your only ex fro more than 10 years, then almost fuck your friend thhat you wasn’t sure if you liked him like that for real or not,  then wanting to be over everything and then fucking everything up. You didn't know how to handle these situations. You felt like a teenager again. Too many mistakes. Too confusing. That made you feel ashamed of yourself. You were a 32 years old woman, acting like 17 years old, fucking up friendships while you couldn’t stop thinking of your ex. And that’s when you wanted to throw up. 

You didn’t want to find your friends. You didn’t want to tell them how you fuck it up with the one guy (once again) that is good for you. How you wasted his time and feelings. You felt like a monster. Like you played with him on purpose even if you actually didn’t want to. You were way too harsh on yourself sometimes. You needed to get out of there just like you got away when you first saw Charles again in that restaurant (or well, now it’s a coffee shop). 

It was running away from your fears, you couldn’t confront them. It was running away from you. You hated yourself. You couldn’t think straight and clear about yourself most of the time. The only moment you trusted yourself was when writing. And you also doubted yourself very much on it. You couldn’t win. Your self-confidence didn’t exist. You were sure about it. People were dancing while you were pushing them a bit to walk through the party out to the garden. You need fresh air in your brain as soon as possible. Or you were about to become insane if you didn’t. People said things to you but you didn’t hear. Your eyes locked on the floor. Your stomach was in your throat. The image of Charles stuck in your brain. 

I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. 

His lips moved, pronouncing those damn three words to your face. As if they were nothing. As if you were nothing at all for him. And maybe you were. You couldn’t imagine Franco saying those things to you, for example. Or maybe men were equal? Maybe you needed to experiment with girls. Maybe they are less complicated and more open. But maybe you were the problem. Too many thoughts per second. You jumped out of every single boat you ended up in. You didn’t know anymore. In your brain, things are too complicated and you know all too well you will need years to repair the damage made to it. From your dad and mum, to Charles and every single other guy you mate. To Franco and to this balcony where you would find someone maybe ready to love you like you matter, like you deserve to feel loved, like you’re amazing and beautiful. Then you were sure you were completely insane. There was no way you were always thinking about someone saving you from yourself. But there you were hoping to meet the love of your life in that gallery outside the party in Franco's house. Maybe writing and your imagination was rotting your brain. You thought about retiring and working in a library as a normal person would do. You didn’t know why you were thinking all of these things suddenly. 

Maybe you were tired and frustrated. You just gave up when you finally got to the garden. The cold air of London fills your lungs, helping you with your anxiety. Your body heat dropped. Your sweaty hands got dry and cold. Your nose is red. Your eyes closed. You were doing your breathing meditation. Your heart palpitations didn’t stop though. And they were fast. Faster than Charles getting over you and everything you built. Faster than you ruining the friendship with franco. Faster than you waiting for someone to save you. Your life sucked. You really didn’t want to think about it like that. But you did. Most times you just couldn't see positive things in it. You felt like a failure. A loser. You didn’t have a lover nor a family. A loser that’s what you were. A complete failure. You had almost no family as well. No father, no mother. Just a brother and a sister who lived on the other side of the world and barely talked to you. Your only family was agostina, your best friend. And she was everything you were not. She has the perfect lover with whom she built a beautiful family of five. Her kids were lovely. She was gorgeous and the greatest person you knew. She was exactly everything you were not. But you didn't hate her. Of course you didn't. You would never think of her like that. It made you as sad as happy for her. Sad for you. Happy for her. 

Why can’t you live something like that? 

“Hey, you okay?” you jumped a little scared because of the sudden interruption to your thoughts and sadness. You turned to your side to find that guy. I think it was Lando's name or something like that Nikola said a few hours ago. When he brought you back to reality you realized you were crying hard. Your face bathed in tears. Cold and puffy. His face was concerned. His eyes are shiny, so blue and green. You found his face so pretty to look at. Alcohol was still in your veins, otherwise you wouldn’t be here crying so dramatically. You would try to hide it. Always. 

⋆˚࿔ let it happen 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Your eyes were on his eyes. Yours were red and puffy. His red is tired and shiny. You stayed in silence for a moment. You answered his question when he saw your face. Something in him cracked for some reason. Oh, he did know you very well. He saw you on that balcony and now that he has you right in front of him, he couldn’t believe you being more beautiful than on that day, but you actually are. He promised Charles he wouldn’t even try but he talked to Carlos about it. Carlos wanted Charles to move on but he was making a move on you and was crossing the line. 

He looked down to his water bottle on his right hand. “Do you want some? Maybe you feel better” he said with a deep voice. He was nervous as hell. Alcohol in his veins as like in yours. He saw your smile. Your face was so pretty. You looked so cute with the boca juniors shirton. He had one as well. He didn’t think they were his colors, blue and yellow, not his thing. But you looked so pretty in them. All of the girls at the party were dressed looking hot as hell. But you and your friends looked cute. Relaxed outfits for the win. And that made you look all so attractive or at least for him. He recognized you a few hours ago. He was kinda shocked to see you there because he has never seen you near franco like ever. You didn’t go to the races nor comment on Franco's posts. Or anything at all. Then here you are. He saw kissing him. He saw you two going up the stairs. Alcohol didn’t let him analizy things properly even if he tried his best in doing so. 

Your fingers that grabbed the bottle from his hand, brushed his sending electricity throughout his arm. He smiled gently at you watching you drink from it. 

“Thank you, and sorry you had to see me cry” you told him, giving his bottle back and he smiled so pretty, shaking his head. You found him so attractive. You were just trying not to be so obvious. Also, you were worried to look like a slut if he saw you kissing Franco before. But why did you care so much? Why were you thinking all of these things about him? 

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You still look cute tho” he said giggling a bit making you laugh a bit as well. You shook your head not agreeing with him. 

“Thank you again, but no need to lie about that tho” you told him a little funny. 

“I promise I'm not lying. You're pretty even crying” he confessed, making you blush. “You okay? Need to talk or something?” he asked to checkon you even if you were strangers. “Im lando by the way” he introduced himself so this wasn’t that weird. 

“I’m y/n. Nice to meet you. I think I'm better now, I just made a lot of stupid decisions throughout my life that now alcohol just reminds me how much of a loser I am” you were honest. More honest than you would be with anyone. You just blamed the alcohol. 

“Hey, I don't think you’re a loser y/n. I mean, I know we don’t know each other at all. But for me, you don’t look like a loser at all” he expressed. You looked out to the garden in front of you a bit ashamed. 

“Appearances can lie, you know? I’m a loser, I promise you. I’m still stuuckin a fucking restaurante knowing all too well i should’ve move on years ago. But here I am. Fucking up friendships and any opportunity i have to get better and be happy. I just hate myself so much. I won’t ever be happy” you gave up. You no longer cared about what people would think. You didn’t care if he thought you were crazy for telling him so much private stuff. You barely know his name. But there you were comfortable enough to confess your depression to him. He analyzed you. Every detail of your face. Each word you used to describe yourself. 

“I don’t think that makes you a loser still. I think you’re brave enough to tell a stranger how you feel and in my opinion, that takes strength and confidence. And i think you will be happy, you just need to let yourself be” his words hung on the air between you two. Why was a stranger talking to her? Why was he saying things she needed to here? Why his words were important? You were sure he  knew how much of a mess you were. It shows. You were sure. But still he was here. Right when you want someone here waiting for you ready to save you.  Is this who will save you? Are you out of your mind for thinking like this about him? 

Delusion was thinking he will be just like charles wright? You had no idea who this guy was but still you compared him to charles. Because you didn’t want to date Charles again or anyone like him. Or did you? You didn’t know how you felt about all of this. About charles. About yourself. About this guy you don't even know and you want him already to save you just because he called you brave and strong and pretty. Was that really enough for you? Was that the standard you had for yourself? He could be a serial killer right? But you could save him. He could love you. And you would forget about charles. About his touch. About his voice and laugh. About his jokes and moans. About his perfume. About his family and friends. About his cars. About everything related to him. 

But was it fair to love someone to stop loving someone else? 

Did you still love Charles? 

You looked at him again. Your eyes connected. He smiled shyly. You did as well. Maybe you could let this guy ruin you just like Charles did, just because of his face, and his voice and what he said to you without even knowing you. You should get your shit together. You still reeling that fucking monaguesque guy. But at this point you didn’t care anymore. Or at least that’s what you thought. He got closer and kissed your cheek, that took you by surprise but you liked it. Probably way too much.

“I know without knowing you that you’re amazing. You just need to believe it. I’m sure you’ll find someone who sees you” he added and your smile became wider. 

“Thank you, lando.wow. Any stranger said so many nice things about me” you half joked shyly and his cheeks went red. His giggles were the cutest sound you have heard lately. Where was this guy? 

Then you remembered Franco and that this guy probably is his friend. And your back at your self hate again.

Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Why do you have to make so many mistakes at once? 

“y/n, we need your help” Dottie's voice interrupted you two. Her voice seemed worried. “Betty is way too drunk, it’s better if we go home now” she explained, a little suspicious of your both body languages. You nodded. 

“Alright, let’s go. Nice to meet you Lando, hope to talk to you another time though so it’s not that depressing. I promise im fun” you said a bit funny but hurried. Your friend first, always. You kissed his cheek quickly. He laughed about your comment. 

“Oh yea, she is,” Dottie added, supporting you in a smile.

“Hope to see you again sometime, Y/n. good luck with your friend” he said to both of you and after smiling at him you went into the party again.

“D, I think I'm in love,” you said excitedly.

“What?”

⋆˚࿔ it’s time to go 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ the fucking tuesday 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Arriving in monaco again at 11 am has never felt so good in your entire life. A trip that started like a dream to remember, turned into a nightmare you couldn’t forget but all you wanted to was to forget about it. Just pretend it never existed and erase everything you did wrong that Saturday night.

You missed your house (your safe place),and you needed its comfort more than you would like to admit. Your brain was a mess. You couldn’t stop thinking about charles driving you to your friend’s house then the memory just fading away and inturning into him saying non stop i met someone. You felt you were going insane when you remembered Franco's skin on yours and how good and warm it felt. How you kissed his abs. And then how you got so scared. His face was printed in ink in your subconscious. You could only see sadness, shame, and a bit of hatred. You were sure at that moment he hated you. Like you humiliate him a bit. You felt so bad about it you couldn’t even face him. You really wanted to say sorry but you just didn’t want to see him straight in the eyes. Shame was tattooed all over your body. How could you?

Then your mind was reminded of Lando's existence and you just wanted to punch yourself in the face. What the hell happened with you at that party? Was the fernet that Franco prepared? You wanted to blame anything except yourself. You didn’t understand yourself either. Like your feelings and thoughts couldn’t agree on anything. Like you had split personality issues.

Yes, you liked lando way too much probably in those few minutes at the gallery. But then there was Franco that you now were confused about how you felt about him. Because you really liked to kiss him. To touch him. To feel him close to you in that way.

And then there was still charles.

You were really tired of thinking already you just had to put taylor swift on your headphones.you took the bus that left you one block away from your house. You don't want to call anyone to pick you up. You texted A and she told you that. You didn’t understand why she did it. But it overwhelmed you for sure. You just wanted to retreat from life like forever.

When you finally got home you went straight into bed. When you touched your pillow you started crying. And that’s how you fell asleep scared to have another nightmare.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Charles watched Carlos leaving his phone on the counter with a weird face “everything alright mate?” he asked. Carlos nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, did you send the invitation to everyone you know?” he asked, grabbing the box with vodka bottles and taking them to the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a crazy wild night” Charles said excitedly trying to not let his anxiety control his mood right now. He wanted to have fun and purposely forget about everything with alcohol. A lot of it. As much as possible.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The music was so loud that Charles could barely listen to what the blonde girl in front of him was talking about but he didn’t care that much. He was already bored by the third girl Carlos introduced him to. He knows Carlos just has good intentions but he was already convinced no one will captivate him the way you did. Not even if they tried to imitate you. Since he saw you again he couldn’t forget your scent. The way you smiled to your nephews. How you treated them and how he was confused for a moment if they were your children. He always knew you wanted to be a mother and for what he saw he was sure you would be the best one out there. He wanted to forget about you he really did. But he was also sure life hated him. He wanted to rebuild his life and leave behind the damage he caused, but then there was you again in that fucking restaurant. And in that moment he knew all too well it would drive him insane. And he felt like it. He believed it.

The girl notices he wasn’t paying attention to her. Charles was playing with his glass of whiskey. Her face looked annoyed and disappointed. Charles didn’t care. She told him she needed to go to the bathroom and disappeared for the rest of the night. He drank his whole glass in one take. He just wanted to drown in alcohol right there and vaish from life. From everyone who knew him.

He saw Carlos dancing la macarena with his group of spanish friends that came for the holidays. He was enjoying himself around. Rebecca, his girlfriend, was there as well, matching hia freak. And for a moment he felt something he never felt before and he didn't like it at all. He felt envious. He wanted to have his life. Be him. Have the girl of his dreams dancing around with him. His friends were here but not with him. And he didn’t even like to dance. And don't have anyone to have sex with. Then he felt miserable. Angry with life itself.he was disappointed. He felt he let down everyone in his life. And the proof was that damn book she wrote. He was a coward. And everyone knew about it; they just didn't know it was him all along. And when the truth comes out then his life will be ended.

He swallowed hard and stood up to grab more whiskey. This time he was drinking from the bottle. He pushed himself aside from the party and sat near the pool even if he was freezing. He didn’t care anymore if he got sick or died. He was extreme. He looked at your balcony and wanted to cry. He wanted to cry like a child. Throw punches and scream. He felt there was no way to fix his life. He regretted breaking you so much. He always knew this was everything to you. You were so caring and always there for him and his whole family. He also knew he broke his mum. She loves you deeply. You were like her daughter, the one she never had. The one he and dad would have loved to have if they could choose the sex of their children. Remembering his dad broke him. He started crying. If he was here he knew he would be disappointed in him. Not because of his career (he made history) but because he isn’t with a good woman. He doesn't have kids either. And he now believed he didn't even have a future.

He looked again at your balcony. The lights were off. He didn’t know if you were there or not. If you had a lover. Or even if you have him blocked on social media. And that’s when curiosity won over him. What if he tried to search for your name on instagram? He was sure someone he knew, knew you as well. Monaco is too little to not have those coincidences on the daily.

He searched the first letters of your name and then saw that his ex, alexandra followed you. He felt weird about it and his face showed confusion with his eyebrows. He clicked on your profile and started stalking you. You still paint and have a piano. You used to play piano together. Actually, you taught him. You were the best professor he had ever had. He smiled looking at pictures of random dogs you found on the streets and with your nephews. You built a new family away from your actual family. That made him happy for a second. He knew after both of your parents died, you didn’t get along so well with your siblings. But he didn’t know if it was still like that. He saw how successful you were. How your book was a bestseller and how it would be a movie produced by universal. He was surprised. He would have never expected this outcome. Back in the day you were an art teacher for children and had a studio where you gave those lessons. Children loved you so much. He remembered their bright smiles when the parents came around to pick them up. He admired you so much for it. He even fantasizes that one day that face so bright and happy will be the one your children will have everytime they look at their mother. He wanted to be a father with you. But then alex came around and fucked it all up. Or well he actually did. And he still couldn’t understand why he did it.

Alex Was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. She also loved him dearly. She was in love with him. And he thought he was with her. But then everything spiraled down and collapsed. He met her at that partymax verstappen threw to celebrate he was an official f1 driver for red bull. He invited everyone he ever met along his life. You couldn’t go because you had to take an exam the following morning. And that’s when it happened. She was dancing with her group of friends. She also had a boyfriend. And we talked and sparks were there. And then Charles got all confused. And they kissed. And he had already cheated by the time he realized that it was wrong. And then he couldn't stop. And his life went to shit.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he felt his teardrops stain his creme pants. He was using a fancy outfit. He looked really good. But as everything he touched, he also ruined that too in that moment. And because he was so busy feeling miserable, he didn’t realize the police were already at carlos’ door wanting to shut down the party. I mean, it was a tuesday night of a working week after all.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

When Charles got closer to Carlos, he was already shouting at the police officers like a crazy man. He was drunk for sure and the policeman knew about it too. No perfume will ever smell like that. Not in Monaco of course.

“Then tell me, who will call? I need to know who to call. I never do parties and then once I do I can't and it’s not fair. I need to know who called you, it's my right as a citizen "Carlos was verbose and angry.

“Carlos it’s okay, how much should we pay you to let us have a party?” Charles intervenes trying to look not drunk at all but failing in each word. Police men looked at each other, annoyed by these two men.

“That would be a crime, sir” the police officer with a beard that looked disgusting in charles’ opinion, answered him. He kind of felt offended.

“Then who it was!!” Carlos was losing it and Charles was scared they would take him to jail right there.

“Your neighbor” the other one talked now pointing his fingers to his right. His right.

Your house was at his right. You called the cops. At that moment he felt he was about to faint. He was sure he was white. The policemen looked at him weird. Carlos then started walking. If you were in a cartoon show he would have smoke coming out his head right now. He walked fast towards your hose. Charles panicked and followed him desperate. Carlos started banging your door so he could tell you things.

“Carlos, nono. Let’s just go home, c’mon "Charles tried to convince Carlos but he was determined and ignored him. He won’t let you ruin his party. His celebration. His opportunity to present a woman for his friend to be happy. The one he taught you ruined. Becausehe couldn’t be over you. And he saw all of this as if you were now not letting him be able to in a very twisted way.

Charles was scared and worried when he saw your light turning on by the minute. His eyes wanting to leave his face when he saw you in your marvel pajamas again. Your hair was a mess and your face had the darkest circles under your eyes. Your face puffy as if you were crying or you did before you went to sleep and then they woke you up. No he felt as guilty as when he realized he left the love of his life stuck in that fucking restaurant you both loved so much.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bitch? Huh? Stop torturing my friend!” carlos said aggressively the moment he saw you when you opened the door.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter six: coming soon.

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

author’s note: hope you all have a merry christmas ❤️ and that you like this chapter as much as I do !

thank you everyone for reading and sharing what I write. I really really appreciate it!

if you wanna be part of the tag list just leave a comment!

see you on the next chapter :)

Don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends! (And drink mate together) <3

[joffyworld]

Happy Joffy Day!

Today marks a day of tremendous change here at JoffyWorld! To start, it's my birthday! I am officially 21, which is apparently a milestone to most people? Weird!

As a celebration, I've got a few things lined up for you all! First and foremost, I will be launching 4, that's right 4, new blogs each with a distinct theme or purpose! I also have what I have coined a "Wall of Mutual Appreciation" which you'll see later in the day, as well as a competition to announce with (albeit sort of small) cash prizes!

So, read on if you're interested!

The New Blogs:

@joffykingdom

This blog exists specifically to house my personal writing! This is where my poems and anthologies (other than my COTL au, more on that later) will be kept from now on! I've realised my poetry has always kind of gotten buried under stuff. Hopefully, this will remedy that! So, if you like my more personal poems, head on over!

@joffycourt

This is the blog I'm most excited about! This is a group project I've been working on for a while with some friends I hold dear! This blog will be a group-run blog designed to spread joy through reblogs, comments and posts just as I do here on JoffyWorld, but on a grander scale! I've seen, and been told personally by many, just how uplifting and helpful my time here has been, and I want to continue that going forward! So, I've gathered some of my most joyful friends, and we've decided to try and spread it even more together! Joining me there so far as the newest Joffy's of the court will be @loullipopx, @bash-js, @yotomazu and @littleperson404! Hopefully, this will only keep growing in time to help me spread the joy I feel from everyone even further! Only time will tell :D

@joffydungeon

This will become the new home for my NSFW reblogs, the more risqué or deranged posts. Basically, in the most simple way, this will be the 18+ blog from now on. Minors DNI, adults more than welcome!

@cult-of-the-anthology

Finally, this blog will be the home of my COTL au and it's respective series! I have plans to do side-by-side series all based within the same au, all told through alternative storytelling such as poetry, songs and whatnot, the type of stuff you've already possibly seen from my au's Ballad of the Bishops Series so far! If you want to keep up with the au, here's the place to do it!

The Wall of Mutual Appreciation:

My aim with this is to help spread one long list of appreciation for all the friends I've made here so far and help spread them with what audience I've collected so far. Each person I'm mutuals with will have a tagged entry into the wall, with a brief explanation of what I find so riveting about their specific artworks and skills! I thought it'd be a fun way to give back a little, and also possibly promote people a tiny bit! Of course, if you're uncomfortable with being on it and see yourself get tagged, let me know and I'll take your name down immediately, no questions asked! It's supposed to be a nice, fun thing, no negativity involved!

And now, the contest!

The Contest:

I will be hosting a writing contest! Cash prizes will be awarded (preferably through Ko-Fi, although PayPal can also be done) to the top three places at the end of the contest! The prizes are: £15 for 1st place, £10 for 2nd and £5 for 3rd, or their local equivalent in your own currencies!

The prompt will be announced by the 15th, and all formats of writing are welcome! I would, however, encourage everyone to try their hand at poetry! I know it's not a popular medium and other forms are welcome of course, but I'd like personally to see people try their hand at something new (and of course, since I'm the poetry guy in my friend groups lmao). I won't however be awarding "bonus points" for poems versus long-form writing for example, all pieces will be judged fairly!

... And that's all!

Thank you so much for everything you've all given me over my time here. It's not even been a year and we're already approaching 300 friends gathered! It's a wonder every day I wake up and talk to you all or even just see what you've been up to. You're all wonderful and I'm honoured to have gotten to know you.

Thank you, you have my endless loyalty, love and support.

Good luck and take care of yourselves,

The Original Joffy™

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

May i request this but with jack, jamil, and trey? (If u can leona too but if not im totally okay with those three cuz i simp for them so hard lol) gn! Pretty plz and thank you :D

I actually think it's been over a year since this ask appeared in my inbox... I have been considering shutting this blog down but at this point I think it's dead in the water anyways 😭... um enjoy?

Jack is a pretty large guy so that being said he doesn’t shirk his responsibilities when it comes to taking care of his partner

Not only is he extremely careful before and during the act, he is incredibly attentive to your needs afterwards

He always takes care of you first and himself afterwards no matter how uncomfortable it may be

Jack always starts with asking you how you are feeling and what-if anything-you could possibly want or need at that moment

Only then does he start futsing around the room looking for stuff and cleaning up

He wants to give you a second to just rest afterwards and he’s tired himself but as soon as he comes off the high all he can see is his partner looking tired and disheveled and he immediately wants to fix that

After waiting patiently and somewhat painfully for you to come down and finish resting he quickly swoops in and does all the rest for you

Bath? Check. Cozy towel large enough to drown you in? Check. Fresh bedding and blankets so you can rest again when clean? Check. Clothes in the laundry? Check. Fresh comfy clothes ready for you in the bathroom? Check.

This man is so shy he gets the bath ready for you and then leaves, telling you to lock the door as if anyone could get past him

It’s almost like he didn’t just see you fully bare

You have to ask him to come in and wash your hair otherwise he will wait outside to make sure you feel comfortable and that you have your own privacy

All in all: a big softie who loves you too much to put into words

Trey is another softie when it comes to aftercare

He is one of the most considerate and kind individuals you will ever meet (at NRC that is) 

Regardless he is exceptionally thoughtful and would NEVER let you go without some sort of care after doing it

Trey prefers to move you off the bed for aftercare because he doesn’t want you to sit in the potentially dirty sheets for too long

He thinks it’s very important that you clean yourself off thoroughly after sex

He will run a bath or start a shower or whatever you prefer and ask if you would like his help or some privacy

If you ask for help he will be very respectful as if your body doesn’t affect him at all (although you know better) and carefully soap up a rag and wipe you down\

He is the kind of man that has chemical free soaps for situations where you might have to wipe down more intimate areas to avoid potentially irritating them

And you will clean those intimate areas as he will clean his as well, not because he is a germ freak, he just gets concerned about infections: your health is always the most important thing to him

His next step will always be changing the sheets while you are still showering or bathing, he wants you to be able to relax on a fresh bed while he pampers you

After that? It’s all up to what you are interested in, a massage, reading, watching tv, just relaxing? You got it

Of course he will have a sweet treat prepared along with a second glass of water (cause you know he made you drink one immediately afterwards)

You have to get some sugar and energy into your system after exerting so much energy and he is firm in this belief no matter how energized you feel afterwards

Overall he is a 10/10 in and out of bed

Jamil is less flexible when it comes to aftercare, not in a bad way, he is just very set in what he believes you need and will require that you let him take care of you that way or he WILL refuse further intimacy

(He’s manipulative like that)

All that said it’s really all because he’s used to dealing with Kalim who doesn’t take his own health into consideration nearly enough as he should and his controlling tendencies typically make themselves known when it comes to aftercare

He has very specific steps that he follows and really you should just let him because they are all catered to your needs and health

Everytime you guys are together he has some level of preparation: there's a snack and water on the bedside table and a rag in a dish of warm water, and a clean dry one to follow

He will wipe you down nearly immediately afterwards no matter how tired he is, he cannot allow you to be sticky or get an infection

You are allowed to relax and rest with him in bed after that but only afterwards

But not for too long because Scarabia is very hot and if you guys are in his room he wants to change the sheets as soon as possible and he does this by running you a bath in his private bathroom

He adds a sensitive-skin chemical-free bath bomb and allows you to just relax for a hot second while he cleans up his room

Of course he checks in with you every few minutes because Kalim fell asleep in the bathtub once and now he fears you might do the same and accidentally slip under

When he has finished cleaning the room he turns his full attention to you, making sure you are washed and dried with gentleness and accuracy

His special form of aftercare though is something completely unique to him

He wants to do your hair

It doesn’t matter what color, length, type at all he will know how to take care of it and will do so with surprising care

He uses a quiet blow dryer/diffuser and combs out your hair till it's perfectly untangled

He uses scalp oils and hair mousse and anything else he feels the need to add and afterwards sometimes depending on how he feels he will add little braids and charms

Jamil misses doing his own hair every morning before he learned how to do it with magic, it was how he relaxed and prepared himself for another long day at work. It was something he could take his time in and be as controlled or as free as he wanted with it, so of course he wants to give you the experience he loved do much

Another 10/10 with aftercare and general caretaking but that was to be expected from someone as prepared as Jamil

Ok don’t get me wrong, Leona cares a ton, he just has no clue what he is doing at all

He is still ridiculously sweet in his own gruff “I’m pretending I don’t care about you but if you so much as wince I’ll carry you everywhere for a week” sort of way

Definitely did not pay attention in Sex-ed so he doesn’t know squat past the basics of the actual act

He is naturally prone to foreplay to some degree so it’s not so bad the first few time you do it

After that one time you disappeared into his bathroom for a while and confessed that you were a little sore the next day he freaked out…on the inside

He maybe sort of gently refused sex for a little while out of concern and confusion

Once he realized he couldn’t just ignore the problem and wait for it to go away he resigned himself to researching aftercare methods

He was hesitant to try them out at first but still made an effort

Started with having some water by his bed for you or offering to let you take a bath and slowly but surely got better

His care is still pretty minimal though, it pretty much consists of getting you clean and comfortable and then cuddling with you until he decides it's acceptable for you to leave

Despite this, he is always careful with you even when he is being “rough”, he wouldn’t admit it but you are his world and if he ever did anything to you by accident, he would be devastated

Side Note: Ruggie refuses to change Leona’s sheets unless paid now so he always teases you afterwards but doesn’t really mind cause he’s getting something out of it lol 

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi! I hope you’re having a great day! 🌟 I absolutely love your blog and your writing—it’s always so creative and immersive. I was wondering if you could write a Reverse Flash (Eobard Thawne) imagine for me? Here’s my idea: - [ do you know the fanfic that you did about him and normal reader? Well, I thought you could write about the wedding reception or what when on during the wedding] No pressure, of course—I just think your writing style would bring this idea to life in the best way! Thank you so much for considering my request, and keep up the amazing work! 💖

Eobard Thawne x male reader

Headcanons

I’ve been sending out job applications, how’s everyone else doing? I actually know like, nothing about weddings. The one wedding ive been through was thrown together in like three weeks.

you can find the fic mentioned here

The wedding could go multiple ways. It could be a huge wedding that costs more money than you could ever imagine. Or it could be something small and personal.

I think it makes more sense if it was a smaller wedding. Because sure, Eobard could show off, but he also has like no one to invite from his side, and he knows you prefer things being down to earth and calm.

The only person really invited on his side is Barry and that’s because you invited him, claiming that being rivals for so long pretty much made them family.

Your family has always loved Eobard, even if he has his moments where his villainy shines through. They’re all as normal as you, and could care less about his evil deeds. Eobard helps them repair stuff around their houses, and chased off your cousin Linda’s evil abusive ex. That makes him good in their books.

I think Eobard has little idea how to really plan a wedding, especially with someone he loves as much as you. Good thing he’s got you, and your one cousin who’s a wedding planner who’s helping you guys’ plan as a wedding gift.

Your family is pretty damn big, and you got people in all fields. Theres your uncle Bill whos got a major catering business, and your younger cousin who has a band willing to play. Your aunt Jenna gets the flowers for cheap, and your uncle Michael and his husband Diego run a security company.

I can even see Eobard being close to uncomfortable with just how open and supportive your super normal family is. Your nieces and nephews love Eobard for many reasons, from his red hair to him teaching them self-defense.

If it wasn’t for you, Eobard would become a major bridezilla, or should I say groomzilla? He wants it to be perfect, from location, time, season of the year, everything. It needs to be just as you guys planned. You succeed in pulling him in before he starts spiraling most days.

I can imagine Eobard would want to wear a yellow suit, but you and your groomsmen and bridesmaids end up talking him out of it. Instead, he wears a black suit with a yellow, and you wear a white suit with a red tie.

You spend quite a lot of time talking him out of stress or anger when things don’t go right, or when he’s starting to get overwhelmed. Theres multiple times you have to talk him out of time travel to get what he thinks is best.

The wedding goes off with little issue. There is a moment where Eobard wants to be mad about Barry showing up. But at this point it’s more just because he’s so used to being evil when he sees Barry. It’s like a trained reaction.

Barry brings a gift of course, off the registry since he doesn’t really know you too well.

Your family assume that Barry is related to Eobard in some way since they have a “similar energy” around them. Barry gets along well with your family, and fits into the wedding guests easily.

Eobard will never admit it, even if your family get it on video, that he started crying when you guys were saying your vows. His vows aren’t long, but are meaningful to the two of you, and it’s obvious he’s trying his best to express those feelings to you verbally.

The rings you guys wear are probably made out of some material Eobard got his hands on. something that can’t be broken by him using his powers or in battle, and something that cant be copied by others since he’s possessive.

There is of course a large party afterwards, with lots of hugs and congratulations from everyone in attendance.

As your family are all over you, laughing and celebrating, Eobard pulls himself to the side for a breather. He loves you so much, but it can be so overwhelming sometimes to feel so normal and accepted, loved even.

Barry would saddle up beside him with a drink in each hand, so the two of them end up standing side by side as people dance, drink and eat.

Barry would express how happy he is for Eobard, that he found someone who matters so much to him. That Eobard looks so much happier and healthier than the last times he saw him. Eobard would grumble but flush, mumbling about how he’s obviously better because he has you.

In the end you guys celebrate to your heart’s content, and when the party is over you guys don’t go to a hotel. Instead, Eobard runs you guys’ home so you can cuddle in bed and just be together.

Theres not much reason to hold a honeymoon in the way most others do. If you guys want to go to another country, Eobard will just run you there. Instead, you take as long time off work as you can, so you guys can just be together and do whatever you want.

[utilitycaster]

But wouldn't you say that at least the fandom experience during c3 was a lot nicer than during c2? I mean, the characters all got along immediately so no room for unnecessary drama and no ship wars, I heard it was really toxic during c2 so I'm glad that c3 had none of it.

Anon, the polite answer to this that assumes you are very new to this fandom and blog and also, if I'm being honest, reality, is "No." Drama in a fandom is largely decoupled from whether the characters actually get along on screen (much like "I wish these characters would talk" is often decoupled from them actually talking and much more about whether they're talking about the thing OP wants them to talk about). More importantly, Campaign 3 had something far stupider and more unkind and insidious than ship wars, which is people harassing you for saying a ship simply wasn't very interesting. I would also say that one of the loudest voices in the area of fans who defend Campaign 3 claiming it's more toxic is specifically speaking about their very individual Twitter experience which I do not think is indicative of the larger fandom. I do think that C2 had more fans harassing the cast on Twitter, which on the one hand is far worse behavior; but it also kind of meant that the fandom on Tumblr, while not without ship warring, was somewhat quieter. I will also acknowledge that my own personal experience is heavily colored by the fact that I was new to the fandom in C2 and so did not have a significant following until late in the game, but Campaign 3 was rife with people who, as best as I can tell, serially show up to fandoms and attack whoever they perceive as popular, sometimes genuinely popular people and sometimes it's just someone who can eloquently string together meta they disagree with, and then when you hit back go "I'm just a little guy just a little birthday boy you're so MEAN." On Tumblr, at least, toxic C2 fans were easy to stop and frankly only turned post-hiatus and many of them prided themselves on not posting hate in the main tag (and quit the fandom altogether); toxic C3 fans have the tenacity and intellect of the average cockroach.

The real answer is: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA what PRIMORDIAL ROCK have you been under. Even if you believe everything the serial liar I suspect you are listening to said about C2 drama how did you miss ALL of C3 drama, especially on like, my blog specifically, as an initially unwilling participant who eventually, as discussed below, decided that if these wretched stochastic parrot morons wouldn't leave me alone I may as well pull out the metaphorical shotgun and make starting shit with me as unpleasant an experience as possible.

Look, I'm not going to pull up my posts in which I've called people by name since I don't think you will care and/or will consider those unnecessary drama, despite the genuine erosion I believe they have committed towards the quality of discourse through their bigotry, and lack of intellectual rigor, empathy, or ability to criticize things through any lens other than false accusations of the Leftist Epithet Du Jour (eg: calling Delilah Briarwood a colonizer, which is simply untrue). But also, starting from barely 6 months into Campaign 3 and continuing through the end, ie, this is three years now.

I personally got hate for saying "It is valid for Imogen to be mad at Laudna for breaking the gnarlrock, and moreover, I feel like Laudna is given more leeway for her behavior than almost any other past character" to the point that someone joined Tumblr only to block me and then stalk me and post about me in the discourse tag.

That eventually came to a head when they called me out by name for replying to a response on a post I had originally made in which I said "Imogen's powers aren't a good metaphor for queerness in that her lack of control actually causes real problems for other people," a statement that a lot of Imogen and Laudna shippers and fans are still to this day throwing fits about despite it being over two years ago.

Multiple people, including people who had lost friends or relatives young and at least one cancer survivor, were sent outright death threats for saying nothing harsher "I think the story is interesting if Laudna remains dead." Now, I was only a lurker when Molly died, and I know people quit or were mad and harassed the cast on Twitter, but the worst I saw on Tumblr were people either quitting, or being weird and annoying about prioritizing Molly over the captured party members and later being kind of dismissive of Caduceus as "temporary".

I was repeatedly harassed to the point of at least two individuals making multiple alternate accounts to reblog my posts or send hate to me and just random people who had interacted with said posts for saying "I don't think Imogen and Laudna is a very good ship"; while we're at it, ship wars are something I dislike but expect in fandom, but I cannot stress how fucking wretched a subset of Im/odna shippers were to the point that to this day they look at people who created genuine content and meta for a competing ship that was always tiny in comparison and have decided it was done purely out of bitterness.

In general, there was just an utter incapacity among many C3 fans to accept "I don't care for your blorbo/ship/campaign" as a post on one's own blog. I was talking with some like-minded friends yesterday and to this day, over a month and a half after the campaign ended, actually a decent amount of people who liked Campaign 3 have almost identical criticisms (pacing, not following on a number of character centric-threads, lack of inter-character interactions, a resolution that is intriguing but was poorly set up, cutaways to other parties at inopportune times, and generally the campaign feeling like they put out all the ingredients on the table and said "here's a finished cake.") but it's fine if they say it, because they preface it with "I loved Campaign 3 and Bells Hells, but." In the end a lot of C3 fans will just attack if you don't think Bells Hells are great and the best. Again I am not naming names but there are even multiple people who openly prefer Campaign 2 by a margin but avoid this criticism simply by being like "Campaign 3 is also really really good, although [same list of criticisms I have]"; see lack of intellectual rigor and analysis. I think it's actually a very simple split: C2 is my favorite because the campaign allowed the characters so much leeway to interact and change and grow that they became my blorbos, whereas I would have liked to have liked BH more but the campaign was ill-suited for them and they didn't really talk.

At least Campaign 2 people wanted their stuff to be canon, and threw fits because it wasn't. Campaign 3 people are like BUT THE 20 HOUR SUPERCUT?????? and cannot accept that they have a canon ship that some people find dull or a blorbo some people think isn't a great person. If someone is mad about not getting something in the story, that's fandom as usual, it's irritating but it's life. Many campaign 3 fans cannot tolerate a whisper of dissent with their opinions without shitting themselves and making it everyone's problem. I know multiple people whom I followed during Campaign 2 for their meta who straight up stopped writing it because if you said anything even mildly critical of Campaign 3 you'd get hate. Campaign 2 harassment on Tumblr was something that largely ended shortly after story beats that proved one person right; Campaign 3 harassment was unending unless you either bow to the people sending it and say "I'm sorry for saying anything other than that your blorbo and ship is perfect," stop posting, or, and I'm really the only person who took this route, make it clear that you can and will hit back ten times harder.

So no: I found the Campaign 3 fandom on Tumblr specifically uniquely toxic because it fell outside of normal fandom toxicity. I think Campaign 2 toxic fans were deeply shitty, but they largely left and I think their unpleasantness is mostly confined to a fandom space and did not degrade the conversation; I think at least some Campaign 3 toxic fans are both genuinely stupid and genuinely bad people who are a negative influence on the fandom at large and I hope we recover during a hypothetical C4; I am cautiously optimistic if only because I think on the basis of mutual blocking they have largely self-selected out and will exist in their own weird echo chamber.

I will also note at this point my criticism of Campaign 3 is almost entirely untagged both as discourse and main and almost entirely either reblogs, or in response to asks such as this one. To be transparent, while I'm sure some critiques will arise as I work through my C2 rewatch I plan on keeping them again, untagged such that only followers, people who follow people who reblog such critiques (not many, I usually get mostly likes on those), and people looking at my blog specifically. I think it will taper off, particularly since a lot of C3 fans had little interest in anything else CR has done.

And finally: again speaking only for myself I'd rather have a brilliant campaign with a toxic fandom, where I can minimally participate in the fandom by reblogging posts I like and enjoy myself with a great show and a handful of likeminded fans in a discord (indeed this is kind of what I do for Veilguard), than a mediocre campaign with a delightful fandom. As demonstrated "it's eh but the people are nice" is not, for me, a defense of Campaign 3 but further condemnation of its quality, and then the people weren't even nice and were in fact in my estimation far worse than those from Campaign 2.

Anyway: I just want to put this out there but I am vanishingly unlikely to be swayed on anything by an anonymous ask. If you want to actually have a chance you better be saying what you say with your whole chest. But also, this is just. Extremely wrong, and you have a very incorrect read on what I personally value in addition to having a poor understanding of the CR fandom history on Tumblr but another problem about the C3 fandom? I got a lot of asks like this one where I cannot tell if the person is just naive to the point of not even realizing how little they know, or if they're trying to be manipulative but are exceedingly bad at it.

[lemotmo]

I want it to be Buck who brings Christopher home. I want him to be the one who goes to Texas. I want Buck to be the reason Chris and Eddie start talking again. I want Buck to convince Christopher to forgive his dad. I want Buck telling the Diaz parents off. I want Buck to be Eddie’s savior. Let Buck be the hero.

First of all Nonny, full disclosure: you have to be aware that you brought this ask to the blog of an Eddie stan, so I might be a little intense in my answer. No offence, but posts like these really make my hair stand on end.

Walk with me here…

There is a big difference between Buck wanting to help Eddie out, standing next to him to support him mentally and emotionally and Buck fighting Eddie’s battles for him.

The first one is healthy ‘best friends’ (or whatever Buddie really are 😏) behaviour. It’s okay to be there for someone in their hour of need. Sometimes that means helping them look for a new house and supporting them as they plan to move away from you, even if it hurts like nothing else has ever hurt before. That’s what you do as friends.

The second one is damaging and -quite frankly- insulting to everything that Eddie Diaz stands for. Let me explain:

Eddie is a guy who has lived under his parents’ critical eye for his entire life. No matter what he did, it was always met with scrutiny and criticism of the people that were supposed to guide him through the ups and downs, all while loving him unconditionally.

His father told him to step up as the man of the house when he was only 10 years old and when Eddie attempted to do just that by helping his mom in the wrong way, he failed in his parents’ eyes and they never quite looked at him the same way after that.

Ever since then Eddie hasn’t known a single moment of peace, whether he was living under his parents’ roof in El Paso or his own roof in LA. The looming cloud of judgement was never far away.

As a teenager, he accidentally got Shannon pregnant and -once again- he was told to step up and be a man. So he married her when they really weren’t ready. They had Christopher… again, when they both weren’t ready. Then he felt like he had to step up to provide for his wife and child, so he signed up for the army twice.

When he came back, Shannon left and he had to step up to be the ‘perfect’ father, which meant working three jobs to make sure Christopher had everything he needed.

Instead of meeting him with love and admiration (and maybe a little help) for his determination, his parents met all of his decisions and actions with disdain and disrespect, seeing him as a failure who was unable to take proper care of his own son. So they wanted to take him away from Eddie, convinced they could do a better job to raise Chris ‘properly’.

They seemed to see Eddie as a bad example of a man. An opinion that, seeing what happened later on in the show, didn’t really change for them. They simply didn’t think he would ever be capable of being a real man, a man like his father.

So on the one hand they told him to step up and be the man of the house, but when he finally did what they wanted him to do, they told him (and showed him in their actions) that he wasn’t doing it good enough.

And remember that Shannon left him three times, once when she went to her mother, once when she asked him for a divorce and finally when she died. All of this reinforced the idea in Eddie’s psyche that he was a complete and utter failure of a man. No doubt in my mind that, up to this day he can still sometimes hear his mom’s voice in his head telling him how big of a disappointment he is.

Then, the ultimate act of betrayal. In the end, when Chris saw him with Kim, his parents swooped in, made him feel guilty for something that was partly out of his control and -once again- made him feel not good enough to be Christopher’s father.

They could have done a number of things when Chris called them: they could have sat down with Chris over a Zoom call to talk to him and help him see that Eddie is only human and he makes mistakes once in a while, they could have helped Eddie to find a good way to communicate with Chris again, they could have offered to come to LA for a while to help them out… all of this offered with love and care.

Instead they walked into his house uninvited, manipulated them and convinced both Chris and Eddie that the boy would be better off with them in El Paso and on the same day took Chris away from the only parent he still has: a parent who would move the Earth for his son if it was needed. And Eddie let him go, because they had him fully convinced that he wasn’t good enough and he would be better off with his grandparents.

In a way his parents finally won. They finally successfully gaslit their own kid to believe he isn’t worthy being Chris’s dad. He isn’t a real man’s man so he doesn’t deserve to be Chris’s father.

And now Nonny… now here you are, in my ask box, telling me you want Buck to fight Eddie’s battles for him? Have you ever stopped to think what that would do to Eddie? Someone else swooping in, even under the best of intentions, once again taking away Eddie’s agency to take control of his own life? It would just make him feel even more inadequate, feeding the feeling of his own unworthiness.

This time it would hit even harder, because it would be Buck who would make him feel this way: the one guy who doesn’t judge him. The one guy who doesn’t need or want him to be anything more than he is. The one guy he trusts implicitly and who promised him to always have his back. The one guy that loves him without reserve. And subsequently, the one guy he loves without reserve.

So no Nonny.

No.

This is Eddie’s battle and he has to fight it, no hesitation, no negotiation. He needs to go to Texas, talk to his parents, telling them exactly where they went wrong and how that made him feel. Then he needs to talk to Chris, telling him he's sorry and that he regrets what happened, but he can't change it and it's time to move on.

Finally, he needs to tell Chris that they are going back home to LA, whether he wants to or not. Eddie is still the adult here and sometimes that means making the hard decisions for your kids, because you know in your heart that it's the right thing to do for both of you.

So ironically he needs to step up yes, but this time in a healthy way and for the right reasons. Not to prove to himself that he is a real man or some dumb macho sh*t like that, but to fall in love with himself again. To become the captain of his own fate. To realise that he is worthy of respect and happiness just like everybody else. To see that he is a good man and a great father.

Ultimately he needs to understand that just being Eddie Diaz is enough. He matters. Not just to other people, but to himself first and foremost.

This is the kind of storyline that would provide Eddie with so many wonderful opportunities to grow as a character and it would be so incredibly interesting to watch him go through all of this, to finally see him come out the other side with a new understanding of his own self-worth and how that affects himself and other people around him.

And yes, Buck will be there in some capacity throughout all of this. It’s hard to imagine him not being there for Eddie to be honest. He will be there, but not to fight his battles for him. He will be there to stand by and with him, maybe not physically, but certainly mentally and emotionally.

Buck will have Eddie's back and it will be enough.