#also the other three have songs on the playlist which also does them a lot of favors

[arolesbianism]

I Really need to get back on the spiraling upwards grind y'all have no idea how insane some of the cats make me. I cannot keep living in a world where I have to dance around spoilers I need to scream abt Egretpaw Now

[macfrog]

lend me some sugar cowboy like me chapter eight

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

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 10.1k (lmfao)

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

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

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

Your dad is chortling in the passenger seat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise yours back. Whatever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where to first?” your dad asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure thing,” he says.

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

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

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

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

“New York, huh? What’s that like?”

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

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

“Oh, I, uh…”

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

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

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

“You found drinks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t catch your name?”

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

“See ya,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh…”

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

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

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

“Pink?”

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

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

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

“Sure,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

Cups

Soda

Plates

Tablecloth?

Balloons

Food

Cake

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

“You gettin’ a cake?” you ask him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it this big a deal?”

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

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

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

“Quit what?”

“Your starin’. Give us away.”

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

“Don’t make me tell you twice, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are y’all today?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel loads the truck and you jump in the back.

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

“And make my dad sit in the back?”

“Punishment for holdin’ us up.”

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

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

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

“So, Zack?”

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

“He seemed to like you.”

“I’m very likeable.”

“Did you like him?”

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

Joel gives half a shrug.

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

“Jealous,” Joel repeats, with a scoff.

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

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

You huff, looking away and crossing your arms.

“You want me to be jealous?”

“No.”

Yeah, you do. It was kinda hot.

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

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

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

“Got it,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

“Trouble?” he asks, brow cocked.

You spin around to watch his face contort in confusion.

“Who the heck is Trouble?”

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

“Is she, now?”

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect for the party, you mean.

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

With slutty lingerie hidden underneath.

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

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

You: Does this lingerie say ‘garden party’?

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

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

Joel: Slutty garden party, sure.

You snort. Dick.

You: Like it?

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

Joel: I prefer what’s underneath it.

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

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

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

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

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

Then you send one.

Fuck it, right?

You: Sounded like you were missing it…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He goes quiet for a second.

“You playin’ with yourself, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Feel good?”

“Yup,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

You moan.

“You still wearin’ those little panties?”

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

“Take ‘em off.”

“Joel, I’m leavin’ in–”

“Off.”

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

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

“Mhm,” you croon.

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

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

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

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

“Joel,” you whisper, “want you here.”

“I know, darlin’, I know.”

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

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

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

Joel speaks again through a strained voice.

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

Your breath halts, cutting short in your throat.

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

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

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

“That’s it, baby. You like that?”

“Yeah,” you whine.

“Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“He will. C’mon.”

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

“Do you? Mind?”

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

You smile. Then you think it over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m cominggg…” you drawl.

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

You snort and hang up without saying goodbye.

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

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

Your brows furrow in response. He elaborates.

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

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

“Ha-ha. Funny. Get your things.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your dad here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She tuts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need a hand, Dad?”

“Nope,” he replies, “’m good.”

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

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

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling flushed.

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

“Is it hot in here?”

Joel turns, eyebrows raising.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was creative director.”

“He’s so cheesy, ain’t he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Missin’ it yet?” Bill asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

You shrug, mumble an, “I dunno.”

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

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

“Who? Sam?”

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

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

“Garden party not macho enough?”

You shake your head in bewilderment. “Macho?”

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

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

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

“Right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right in front of your fucking dad.

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

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

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

“Th…Thanks.”

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

“Yeah. No problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you whisper into your palms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought I saw you guys wander off.”

“Oh, honey, here, take my seat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs. “I am not bein’ a grump.”

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

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

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

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

Joel grumbles, taking a sip of his beer.

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

You could fucking scream.

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

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

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

“Huh?”

“I said, arm not comfortable?”

“Not as comfortable as a whole chair.”

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

“Better?”

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

“Better,” he confirms.

Your brows furrow. “What are you–”

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

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

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

How much of that conversation did Joel hear?

“He was just–”

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

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

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

“About what?”

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

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

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

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

His girl.

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

“Your…”

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

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

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

“You…have…And how is it you have me?”

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

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

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

“Hm?” he tilts his head.

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

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

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

“S-sweeten…your…b…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs. “Yeah, I liked it, baby.”

“Then I liked it, too.”

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

Then, a twisted thought crosses your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M-me,” you wobble, grinning.

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

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

“Joel,” you pine, “’m close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your dad’s lookin’ for us.”

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

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

“Maybe he’s just hungry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” Joel asks when he’s gone.

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

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

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

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

“Alright. Just keep doin’ that.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Surprising me. See where it gets you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not invited?”

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

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

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

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

“That Rita can chat, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “You seen Joel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You there long?”

“Just Saturday through Sunday.”

Well, fuck.

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

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

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

And you’ve got Joel to keep you company.

----------

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[prostocupoftea]

Kinitopet Programmers AU

finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn

it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys

more info and sketch version under the cut!!

sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles

srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text

It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )

i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:

aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see

Now about au:

Main story:

Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)

Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?

So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)

Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."

Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too

Sonny is like "...no??"

And then they fight about it for million chapters

Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)

Little facts that may or may not to be important:

Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)

Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one

I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)

Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:

Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--

Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )

Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):

Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons

Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so

oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now

on 3 characters

good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:

for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)

like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)

[xdjville]

wayv and their own love languages

pairing: wayv x gn!reader

cw: mentions of sex in winwin's (only in words, no descriptions), yangyang (half)jokingly being a hater in xiaojun's, proof read but i'm tired

author's note: i had to physically stop myself from getting carried away with kun's so it wouldn't end up twice as long as the others man i love him

#kun

quality time

if it wasn't for kun being so busy, he would literally be glued to you at the hip. only with you around he's able to truly relax, you're like a power outlet that he can use to charge his battery. what you're doing doesn't really matter to him that much, he will enjoy anything as long as you're there, but the slow, quiet moments when you're both in your own worlds have to be the ones he cherishes the most. of course, he loves going out with you and having a blast too, but something about those occasions brings him a sense of domesticity and really lets him unwind. like when you're both in his studio - him at the desk, composing or working on lyrics, while you're on the couch in the back with your laptop, focused on your own tasks, the silence being broken only the few times that kun asks about your opinion on whatever he came up with, or when you stand up to get a drink and place a kiss on his cheek as you walk by. or it could be him cooking dinner for the two of you, showing off his skills as you sit on the counter, humming quietly to his playlist playing in the background. every now and then he'd turn around to give you a piece of the food he's making for a taste test, repaying each good idea of how to improve the dish with a kiss.

#ten

thinking about you

ten is pretty much thinking about you every second that he's awake (and sometimes in his dreams, too), he's never not thinking about you. he often gets reminded of you by random things, whether because he thinks there's a visual resemblance (he then usually sends you a photo and a "you lol"), because it's something you like, or because it's somehow connected to a shared memory of yours. he brings you up in conversations a lot too, to the point where some of his friends seem to know you quite well without having actually met you. when he's travelling, he always takes many photos to send you along with voice messages about how his day went, and buys souvenirs or little trinkets to gift you when he's back. on the rare occasion when he's grocery shopping on his own, he makes it his mission to find all of your favorite snacks, which more often than not gets him distracted from the list you had put together for him, so you end up with a bunch of candy and no dinner (which is exactly why him shopping alone is a rare occurance). he also really likes putting together playlists with songs that remind him of you, some of them he'll send and give you access to, but there's also a few he made private which he listens to on days when the longing feels worse than usual.

#winwin

"i love you"

to most, it might seem like not that big of a deal, but to winwin those three words hold more meaning than all other existing ones combined. a meaning that's so important and valuable, binding even, that he uses them carefully and scarcelly in order to not abuse them. for most of his life they were reserved only for the closest family members, then, although in a different sense, also for his fans. saying them romantically for the first time was a whole new sesantion to him, and to be honest it still feels a bit foreign and uncomfortable. not because he doesn't love you, that he sure does and he makes sure to show that in other ways, but actually saying it out loud just makes him feel so bare and out in the open. hence his "i love you"s are usually muttered into the crook of your neck when you're pressed together after making love, breathed against your lips when he breaks the kiss only for a second so you can't see his face gaining more color than it already had, or whispered into your ear as he gently strokes the back of your head, your tears soaking into his sweater.

#xiaojun

sharing

xiaojun doesn't really do this purposefully, as a way to show his affection, it's just that the concept of "mine" and "yours" genuinely doesn't exist in his mind when it comes to you. want a bite of his food? it's yours as much as it's his. out of moisturiser? you probably use the same brand anyways. really like that one hoodie of his? might as well have been yours in the first place. he never expects the same behavior in return, he's totally fine if you value your privacy and he makes sure that you understand each other's boundaries, but he never lets go of that "what's mine is yours" mindset either way. xiaojun really enjoys showing you off ("shoving your relationship into people's faces", as one german boy likes to call it), so you wearing his clothes or jewelry is his absolute favorite thing ever. he then stares at you with heart-shaped, sparkly eyes, a wide, lovesick grin on his face, and the tips of his ears burning red (to the german boy's disgust).

#hendery

being vulnerable with you

very few people get to see the other side of hendery than the cheerful, quirky self that he usually is. the side that's exhausted and afraid, that pains and ugly cries. a lot of doors have to opened to reach it, but he trusts you more than anything and anyone, ever. he doesn't think he could be any more real and unfiltered as he is with you, it's almost like it's more comfortable than when he's all alone. when you're there, he can just let everything go and express his feelings in a way that's most true to himself, without faking or conceiling anything. all those nights he spent crying because of his past, present, and future, because of his fears and scars and sorrows, you've been there for him. and although in the morning when you're tangled in your sheets with puffy faces and dry skin either of you knows better than to mention whatever was said that night, he's truly, deeply grateful, and each time he makes a promise to himself that one day he'll tell you that.

#yangyang

kissing

yangyang's nothing if not a kiss person. it's his favorite thing in the whole world, to be able to just connect your lips until he forgets his own name because yours is all he can think about. little pecks, french kisses, make out sessions, spiderman kisses - you name it, he loves all of them and they're all his favorites, as long as it's you who's on the other end. you often try to push him away because you just ate something with garlic, or because you have yet to brush your teeth in the morning, but none of that really matters to him. in fact, he cherishes every sensation that comes with it, be it a taste of what you ate, the feeling of your dry lips when you forget to put on chapstick, or a string of saliva that keeps you connected after you pull away - god, that one makes him go weak in the knees. he especially likes when you take the initiative, it makes him feel loved and all warm inside (he would never admit that though). and if you lead the kiss, maybe a bit riled up from something happening at work or because you've missed him? oh, he's a goner.

#taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc

©xdjville

[erisweekofficial]

Today we're highlighting @acourtofladydeath, creator and mastermind behind @polyacotarweek. She's written so many amazing pieces about Eris across multiple ships and genres. And if you find yourself wanting to explore other characters, she's got you covered with her masterlist of 30+ works on AO3.

🧡 Looking for something deeply emotional and poignant? Please start with LD's favorite fic, All Things End (Azris). 🎧 It even has a playlist. 🎧

🔥 If you're looking for a good horny time, try Welcome to the Family, which features Elain x Eris or Rules are Rules (Azris). You're in for a good time with those two. Especially if you like Beron.

Read on to learn more about LD's writing process + some advice for writing about Eris...

What themes do you like to explore in your work with Eris?

I really enjoy exploring the juxtaposition and depth of Eris. He needs to act a certain way to protect the people he loves and keep his place within the Autumn Court under his father. But does he want to act that way? How soft is he, or is he actually as mean as he seems? I like when he's a bit of both. I think he's a very protective person, and I enjoy exploring the different ways that manifests with different people. I also think he's experienced a lot of trauma in his life, and I'd be remiss if I didn't say I enjoy exploring that and how it influences both his external and internal persona.

What other characters do you enjoy writing about alongside Eris?

Three favorites, three different relationships: My favorite person to ship Eris with is Azriel, and I love writing different iterations of their relationship. Some are softer, others are spicier, and then there's the really sad takes. There's so much give and take with these two and it's so fascinating to play around with. I love writing Eris and Nesta as best friends. Their wit is so well matched, as is their lived experiences with their siblings and parents. They have so much overlap, and you can write them funny or feeling and any combination in betwell. Plus, who says friends can't fuck? Not me. The third person is Lucien. I really enjoy exploring their familial relationships. Were they close as kids? If they hate each other, have they always? How does this relate to their relationships with their parents and other brothers? There's so many different ways to skin this cat and I want to write them all.

What's your favorite piece you've created featuring Eris and why?

I hemmed and hawed over this question forever, but I think the fic that fits best is "All Things End." This fic is pure bittersweet angsty sadness. What if Beron's torture gave Eris incurable dementia? How would his mate, Azriel, their children, and Lucien handle the situation? CW for dementia, death, and grief. I created two playlists for this fic: one that's a direct accompaniment and another that's an extended cut. The direct playlist is timed to the reading length of the fic, and specific songs play during specific scenes to enhance the reader experience (AKA bring more tissues).

Do you have any advice for other creators wanting to make eris content?

Eris is a character that we don't know much about compared to others in the series. When I go to write him I start with what we do know: his father's abuse, he's a general, he protected Lucien, we don't have the whole story about the Mor situation. He's cunning, so you know that what you see isn't all there is. I like to build backward. What from canon do I want to focus on? How does canon tie into whatever type of fic I'm writing? Why does he act the way he acts, and how does that tie into his canon history and the plot/theme/characterization of my fic? This helps build up the layers that are so integral to who I think Eris is as a character. Complex, captivating, keeps you on your toes. And don't forget his gold jewelry.

[roo-bastmoon]

Thoughts on 3D

So Jungkook's collab with Jack Harlow is out. It is catchy; it will go viral. I have purchased it; I will add it to my new releases playlists--same as I do for all our boys.

But while the dancing was cool and JK's parts are okay (I'm not thrilled that the word "girl" is used literally 20 times, but I get what the western music industry is), I was--I need to be honest here--really taken aback and unhappy with how misogynistic Jack Harlow's rap lyrics were. As far as I'm concerned, he's absolutely unnecessary, and I'll be supporting the alternate version with a lot more enthusiasm.

A deeper look at the lyrics and more of my thoughts are under the cut if you're interested (but by clicking, you're agreeing to keep it respectful in the comments or you'll get banned.)

All my ABG's get cute for me I had one girl (One girl), too boring Two girls (Two girls), that was cool for me Three girls, damn, dude's horny Four girls, okay now you whorin' (Hey, hey, hey) Hey, I'm loose I done put these shrooms to good use

Setting young women up in a line and talking about how sleeping with just one is too boring but sleeping with four is whorish? Yeah, miss me with it.

Then there's this:

You won't regret me (You won't regret me) Champagne confetti (Champagne confetti) I wanna see it In motion In 3D (Show it to me, girl, now, why?)

I was given to understand that "ABG" stands for "Asian Baby Girl" and refers to an Asian party girl who likes clubbing, wearing excessive makeup and tattoos, and revealing clothes, etc.

I also learned from Urban Dictionary—which can be an unreliable site with outdated or incorrect information—that "champagne" has referred to underage girls in the past and "confetti" or nowadays “champagne confetti” refers to orgasm, or sometimes when a group of men or women surround someone, masturbate, and then ejaculate on them.

Not even going to get into the shrooms thing. I'm not in a hyper conservative country with harsh punishments for those type of drugs so... I was a bit taken aback about a song about being fucked right, and now there's lyrics about what amounts to harem girls.

*sigh* Do you know how much I hope I'm reading into things incorrectly? Please correct me if I'm misunderstanding the innuendo, but this is what urban dictionary says. I'm 44 and live in a cave. Maybe I'm wrong.

But in any case, the vibe of Jack's parts in the video was not coming off respectful.

I don't care how many other rap songs objectify and insult women--I won't get behind any content that does. And don't even try to gaslight me or other ARMY into saying we should like this because it's comparatively worse in other rap songs. Don't try to suppress any discourse about it, either--let women discuss how they feel about how they are represented. Don't police women. Don't silence women.

BTS' rap music got so much better once they incorporated feminist feedback, so I'm used to a higher standard and I won't be lowering those standards for anyone. I have no hang ups about sex, but please miss. me. with. misogynistic. bullshit.

Then again, it seems some of the rap hyungs were on board with this.

So I guess industry pros have a different take on stuff like this!

*shrug*

Okay, we have established that I really don't like Jack Harlow's contributions to this song. Which means I'll support the alternative. Thank goodness they had the foresight to provide an alternative!

Now I can work for JK's charts in a way that doesn't aggravate my conscience. All good. Enough said on 3D.

Personally? I really hope JJK1 showcases JK's range of genres, but also has a range of topics besides pursuing girls or being cool.

I just can't vibe with a fuckboy persona; I never liked Justin Bieber or Justin Timberlake for that very reason, even if some of their songs sound fine. Now, if Jungkook really admires their style and wants to pursue it, I'm not going to rag on him for it. Of course not. It's his choice and I can respect people's choices without making the same choices myself.

I will always try to support our members as far as I can, even if not everything is my cup of tea.

But I can't help hoping for something personal and authentic and substantive, when it's just Jungkook coming to us without a collab. (And with Scooter at the helm for an all-English EP, I guess I'm not holding my breath. But maybe this is all part of the learning and growing process. Time will tell.)

Please know that I don't expect other people to suit me and my tastes, but neither will I enthusiastically support content with my time and money when they don't suit me at all or actually really turn me off, ya feel me? It's a real and respectful relationship I have with BTS and their music; not performative. I don't follow along quietly out of obligation, but rather a sincere joy to participate.

I love Jungkook deeply. He's a sweet and intelligent and kind-hearted young man. Amazingly talented and humble. Sincere, open to being vulnerable, protective of those whom he loves. He donates to kid's hospitals, for goodness sake. Jeon Jungkook is a good egg.

I guess I'm just sort of feeling a bit whelmed by the type of music that is in vogue these days. JK worked hard, he did well on his parts. I just am hoping his album showcases some of the emotional depth and meaningful thoughts I have seen from him in the past, if I'm being purely honest. *shrug*

Those are my less-than-two cents. Of course, you may have a vastly different perspective and I appreciate that. Just please keep it respectful of all members and each other in the comments here. It's been a long day and I desperately need some real rest now. I'm trusting I can post this and not come back to a warzone.

I've got a Friday Thirst post in the queue for you guys, and then I'll be taking a bit of a break from social media for a few days to work on work deadlines. Please keep voting for Jimin and of course stream and buy for Jungkook and other new releases.

Sending you all so much love!

~Roo

[cmspeirs]

Band of Brothers Headcanons: What music they’d be listening to

(+ Playlists and absolutely historically inaccurate)

A/N: Hey! So here’s my first BoB headcanon - I hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry if this is rather short. Let me know if you’d like to see other characters in those or have any requests :) I also spent way too much time making several playlists for them, I’ll link them for you at the end if you wanna listen to them!

{Dick Winters}

• Classical. Music.

• Can list you every thing that Bach or Vivaldi ever published, but with the backstories

• I just picture him closing his eyes and sighing very loudly whenever he listens to something he loves

• Will dance to old Jazz music until the sun comes up, and says the day after that it was a really wild night

• Also listens A LOT to Lana (would never admit it)

• Secretly gossips and argues over her online. Tries to keep it a secret but his username is “DickDelRey101”

{Lewis Nixon}

• Classic Rock all the way

• I’m talking Bob Dylan, Rolling Stones, ACDC…

• “Paranoid - Black Sabbath” was his wedding song

• When he gets home he falls into the old chair next to the record player with a bottle of whiskey already waiting

• He’s always like “I need this music to calm down, don’t you understand???” and absolutely means it

• Drives the car only to listen to “Enter Sandman” and wear sunglasses while he does (windows all the way down, volume max)

• 100% certified Dad music

{Ronald Speirs}

• This mans music is all over the place

• Just like my feelings for him lol

• But mostly listens to a lot of old music???

• Like 40s to 60s, also a big fan of Elvis and Johnny Cash

• Literally has pictures of them hanging in the doorway

• Always says he doesn’t care about things like music, but will make a playlist for every one he meets with songs that remind him of them

• I swear to everything music would be one of his love languages - he’d absolutely remember every song you ever liked

• Turns the radio louder randomly to songs with the explanation “saw you smiling to that with your morning coffee last week”

{Donald Malarkey}

• Listens to a whole lot of sad songs - and I’m talking about gut wrenching, laying on the bathroom floor kind of sad

• Also somehow into Grunge??

• At least three Radiohead songs in every one of his playlists

• The Smiths is his happy music

• When his favorite Pink Floyd Record is on he listens to it all day. He runs to push the play button again every time it stops.

{Joe Toye}

• 100% an alternative Rock / Nu Metal kind of guy

• Would have Deftones playing all day

• Also listens to Bloodhound Gang a lot lol (The song “Jackass” is his anthem!!!)

• Just imagine him sitting in the garage with Guarnere, drinking beer while an old Limp Bizkit vinyl is on

• He thinks it’s the greatest thing of all time that bands began to combine Rap with Hardcore

• In terms of that - definitely a fan of Deez Nuts, Hollywood Undead or Linkin Park

• “Band of Brothers - Deez Nuts” is literally his favorite song

{George Luz}

• Unironically listens to the Soundtrack of Oklahoma

• It just puts a smile on his face every time he hears it - takes him back to the news of the musical still on broadway back in war

• Also loves & defends Tom Lehrer to death

• He knows every song from him by heart and always sings the loudest

• Will randomly sing his favorite songs throughout the day, which makes everyone shake their head but deep down they all love it

• He’s almost afraid of sad music

• He aspires to be Ricky Nelson in another life

{Eugene Roe}

• Similar to Malarkey, but doesn’t cry to those songs

• Just sits in silence with a cigarette between his fingers, staring into the nothingness while thinking about his time with Easy

• “Feels like a movie” - songs were made for him

• When he listens to Elton John or Billy Joel you know he’s in a happy mood

• Is also the anonymous person Winter argues with online about Lana

• DickDelRay101 replied: Are you clinically insane? How could you deny it’s her best album? Did you even listen to it?

• Absolutely knows that it’s Winters and accidentally called him Sir when he replied (several times)

{Joe Liebgott}

• Hear. Me. Out. He’s a pop punk & grunge boy all the way

• Has a big collection of thrifted vinyls (if you can’t find him, search at the next thrift market)

• Puts on Nirvana or the Offspring and just lays on his bed while smoking a whole pack of cigarettes

• Room full of ripped band posters and at least one guitar (but can’t play, although he says he can)

• 10/10 would’ve lived in a skatepark in another life

• Also really into Old school HipHop, loves the Beastie Boys

• Accidentally went to a New Kids on the Block concert once. Said he hated it but stayed until the very last minute.

{David Webster}

• Would also listen to classical music

• But it would just be for people to think he’s very intellectual, actually can’t stand it

• In reality really into slow and soft love songs

• Listens to Vera Lynn on a daily basis and happily admits that he cries to her songs. Always speaks of “Our Vera.”

• When he listens to “There’ll always be an England” he suddenly gets an English accent.

• The Fleetwoods is his favorite band

• Tries to listen to Pop Punk because he knows Joe loves it, but he absolutely hates it

• “There’s no emotion Joe!!”

• “For fucks sake, Web, there’s all the goddamn emotion!!?!!”

{Bull Randleman}

• Hard Rock, can’t say more

• Also 100% certified Dad music. He’s the one who visits Nixon once a week to play poker and smoke cigars while listening to his records

• Is the guy at a concert who will accidentally throw you to the ground while in a mosh pit

• But will absolutely make everyone stop so he can pick you up again

———

Link to the Ronald Speirs playlist:

Link to my profile - the other playlists are on there (still updating them regularly):

[koiifiishy]

back with more eris doodlings :-) ! and more under the cut

i've decided that if he had a title like the named npcs, he'd be Eris The Defiant. also decided that if he were a npc LI with a toggable gender changer, he'd look pretty much the same as a girl just with a few cups up in the chest dept. lol - he's also still be trans, so you either get transmasc or transfemme eris, there is no cis option.

going off of this post for heights! (too lazy to draw an entirely new img - just scribbled over the height comparison models -w-) a full line up + eris amongst the taller LI's (...of whom he's already met / has interacted with in game thus far!). he's just one inch smaller than kylar haha, which im sure kylar would love. avery with eris though is LOL (stares at the other three on that height list......... that height diff... hes getting FOLDED. . .)

this chart is very messy so bear with me & the yellow i used is hard to read so ill type it out too!

Robin

mutual besties. they're basically brothers! except that robin left his confession note for eris and eris is uh.. willfully ignoring it,,, sorry robin he's not gonna take you up on that (yet lol)

img text: "if anything happens to robin (again) i'll kill everyone in this town and then myself"

Sydney

what is it about this unassuming churchboy that calls to eris... he doesnt know,, but sydney makes him happy 🥺!!

unintentionally uuuh reduing sydney's purity by being horny at him. theyre promised ok?! its fine right?!? especially bc of the fucking SLOW BURN they went through omg...

img text: "he makes this shit town bearable. BF" sydnet img text: "really adores and admires him. BF"

Kylar

um. well. your honor, he's just misunderstood..! eris kinda feeds into kylar's IssuesTM by not dissuading him. he just feels kinda sorry for him,,! this opinion Will change if/when kylar finally gets his greasy little paws on eris

he 100% realizes kylar is unhinged and the plushie gift was probs bugged somehow. still accepted it but like... he's hardly home anyway so w/e. still holds onto hope kylar can change(???)

img text: "haha. i'm in danger :^)" kylar's img text: "HAVE MY FUCKING BABIES" lol

Whitney

literally beat the shit out of each other every time they were in close proximity for like a month, until whitney's dominance meter dropped a lot. he confuses eris... does he like. have a crush and is acting like an elementary kid about it??? use your words damnit!

despite it all... doesnt hate him. eris feels like theyre probably a lot more similar than whitney's letting him (or anyone) see. sydney's mention of whitney having things going on to make him act like a little shit stuck with eris. . .

img text: "stop giving mixed messages whitney!"

Avery

the most cut and dry of them: it's just a transactional sugar relationship. except the part about the elk/fox bullshit? hello?? mr avery??? WHAT WAS THAT AVERY--?????

eris really doesnt trust avery,,, but he pays him a LOT & eris has two whole debts to pay off;; avery is only allowed to hit it from the back. . . (thanks temple for not counting that as sex ig lol!)

im iffy on the designs ive drawn for them too, i mostly have been going off of what i see the general fandom draws! theres a lot of really nice designs :> im being mindful not to fully copy anyone tho.

i also went insane and made eris a playlist - it has a lot of metal/loud songs jsyk! remains of us was specifically put on the playlist for sydney 🥹 just recently had my first run in with the ivory wraith too =D AH. TRAUMAS OBTAINED!!! very much eris' top trauma event so far!! he's resilient... so he's on the road to recovery but boy was that RUFF. robin and sydney came in super clutch with comforting him tho :")

one last thing for you all:

eris core lol

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 4: first date

Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, panic attack, dancing, pining, kissing, the smut has arrived, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey, pretty girl), Joel calls reader a good girl, neck grabbing (no breath play), light manhandling, grinding, spit kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex (w/ condom), mention of breasts/nipples, praise kink, if I missed anything please let me know! If you'd like to skip the smut, check on ao3 - I've got notes there about what to skip a/n: Welcome to chapter 4! A day early!! It’s time for these two to go on a first date… and another first date, 20 years before. And oh yeah, the smut is here. The country night club in this chapter is based on one I frequented in the south in the early 2000s (lol). music note: More songs are mentioned in this chapter! All songs mentioned in this fic are on the playlist, which is linked below. word count: 13.3k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 3 || ch 5

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Chapter 4: First Date

Jackson, Spring 2024

You have dinner with Joel and Ellie a few more times over the next few weeks. Sometimes just the three of you, and sometimes with Tommy and Maria as well. 

(Maria has warmed up a bit to Joel, following his return with Ellie in tow. She’s blunt and opens up more easily to people that have the Joel stamp of approval, which is just Tommy, sort of Maria, and you – all of the adults in her would-be family that don’t know how to talk to each other quite yet.)

Joel manages to join you for lunch a few times as well, and he listens to your tales of the gardens and the stables with the same slightly incredulous air that Tommy still does – you, an indoor girl, enjoying working outdoors. Anyone who knew you Before would never believe it, but no one here except the Miller brothers knows enough about you to find it at all odd. He laughs almost as loud at your story about getting stuck in the manure as Tommy did witnessing it. Right in the middle of the dining hall.

You and Joel also spend a couple of afternoons listening to the songs on the CD with Ellie and telling her a bit about each one. She likes the faster songs, like “Arrasando” and “Fruta Fresca”, and the ones that make her laugh, like “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” and “Pickup Man.”

(You tell her the story of how a woman hit on Joel in the grocery store parking lot, leaning suggestively on his pickup truck, and how she quoted the song (you know, there’s something women like about a pickup man), and how you and Sarah never let him live it down, singing the song to him every chance you got, playing up different parts (I never knew you were a pickup man!). You even got him to sing along eventually. She laughs so hard at your reenactment of it all that she falls off the couch. She and Sarah would have gotten along like a house on fire, you think.)

She scoffs a little at the romantic songs like the teenager she is. 

Listening to the songs is hard, and you notice that Joel skips a couple of them (you don’t blame him, and both of you avoid the other’s eyes when he does). But Ellie brings a brightness to every room she’s in. Even as she’s cursing up a storm about missing her favorite food in the dining hall one night because of family dinner - right up until Tommy walks in the door with a plate, just for her. You can feel something in yourself start to bloom again as you tell stories about Sarah and Joel from Before to this child who asks questions about unexpected things, like strobe lights in clubs and menus at fancy restaurants and piñatas at family parties. It lets you take a step back and try to see it all through her eyes, unfamiliar and new. It’s refreshing even when it hurts. 

You think it’s having the same effect on Joel, but you haven’t talked about it. You can only see what he’s showing on his face and you think it mirrors what’s on yours. You haven’t talked more about your 20 years apart, other than some small details here and there. Ellie hasn’t asked again. You see him looking at you sometimes like he wants to ask, wants to reach out, but he always hesitates. Slow. 

After a few weeks (almost a month since they’ve been back in Jackson) of getting more comfortable around each other, Tommy ramps up his campaign to get the two of you to join him at the bar one night. You’ve been there with Tommy a few times, of course, but you haven’t been one for lingering there since you’ve been in Jackson. You were on your own for so long that at first it was odd to be around so many people. You know Joel has been with Tommy a few times, but he didn’t stay long, either. Always wanting to be home for Ellie. 

Eventually Tommy pesters you into agreeing by getting Maria to hang with Ellie for the night – as much as they haven’t quite bonded yet, Ellie is still curious and a bit excited at the prospect of a baby, and the plan is for her to help decorate the nursery. You saw the look on her face when Joel referred to the baby as her cousin, and you think Ellie herself can’t look straight on at the emotion that came over her in that moment. She’s still getting used to the whole family thing. You and Joel are too, but you’re easing back into something you had once and lost, which is different than discovering something you’ve never had at all. 

The night of your outing you don’t let yourself dither by your closet. You allow yourself two options and once you decide you head downstairs to meet Joel and Tommy by the road. For a moment you marvel, again, at the novelty of doing something that used to be mundane – choosing your outfit for a night out. 

Tommy looks like he used to at Christmas, so excited to drag you both out of the house. Joel looks just as handsome as always — shoulders broad in his flannel shirt — but he’s also side-eyeing his brother like he might want to put him in a headlock if he doesn’t stop spilling good cheer everywhere. 

“Alright, Millers, let’s get this show on the road.” You tuck an arm through both of theirs, one on each side like you used to do when you went out dancing. For a moment the once-familiar feeling of being surrounded by your family like this takes your breath away. But the three of you easily fall into step as you head towards the only bar in town. 

“You should bring your CD out sometime, get everyone to dance.” Tommy looks hopeful as he makes his request, glancing between you and Joel as you walk. 

“Maybe. I don’t want to lose it, or break it.”

“I know, sunshine – we can be careful.”

You shrug, and ask what kind of music is going on tonight. Sometimes there’s live music, a few people in town who can play various instruments, but often it’s this old-as-dirt jukebox that sometimes needs coaxing to play more than a few chosen songs without going rogue and disregarding whatever you picked next. Sounds like tonight is a jukebox night. 

The three of you arrive at the bar, and as Tommy moves to enter ahead of you, Joel lets his hand slide down to twine his fingers through yours. He squeezes your hand as the two of you step inside, reminding you of all the times he did that to reassure you Before, when you were still learning how to dance. It makes you smile. 

Tommy waves you over to a table in the corner and heads to the bar to get drinks. You slide in beside Joel, feeling a bit awkward as you turn to him while you wait for Tommy to come back. “He’s just as smug as he was that first time you and I went line dancing with him.”

Joel huffs a laugh, looking uncomfortable in public in a way you’d never seen him Before. He keeps checking on the people in the bar, eyes never staying in one spot for long as he sweeps them over the room. As he turns back to you, he replies, “Tommy loves to make me uncomfortable.”

You tilt your head at him, considering. “I get now, I’m not totally comfortable here either, but then? You always seemed so confident when we went out dancing. Helped me shake off my nerves.”

“That was because of you, darlin’.” He leans closer. “It was impossible for me to feel uncomfortable with you on my arm. All I could see was you, anyway.” You duck your head a little to hide your reaction from the room, and he gives you that half smile that raises goosebumps down your arms, like it always did. “Before I met you he used to drag me out and I probably stuck out like a sore thumb, anxious and frowning in a corner by the bar.”

You laugh at the image, just as Tommy returns with your drinks. “What are you two laughing about over here, hmm?”

Your eyes meet Joel’s again, and he’s giving you a warning glance against Tommy’s teasing. “We’re just reminiscing about going out dancing.”

Tommy grins widely. “I’m telling you, we can have a dance night here. Just need the right music for it. The jukebox does alright, though there’s a lot of slower songs. It doesn't have the widest selection.”

“Neither do I, with just the one CD.” 

Tommy shakes his head at your response. “Ah, but what a CD it is! I remember that mix. Sarah always had a way with a playlist.” You notice Joel shifting his weight at the mention of Sarah, but you decide not to draw attention to it.

“You just want me to embarrass myself with how little I remember.”

“Nope, not going to fall for a tall tale like that, sunshine. I heard from Ellie that you two still got it.” Tommy winks at you. You forgot what having a brother was like, with all the teasing, and you can’t help the swell of emotion in you as Tommy grins at you. You take a sip of your drink to cover it, and cough. 

“What the hell is this?”

“What, you don’t like it? It’s the strongest thing we got.”

“Did someone make this in their bathtub? I thought we had whiskey in this town.” You hold up your glass to the light, eyeing the light brown liquid distrustfully.

Tommy smirks at you. “Sure we do, sunshine, but tonight’s for having fun.” You roll your eyes at him. Joel is hiding his face in his hand, but you know he’s just trying to hide how much he’s laughing at your back and forth.

“You, Tommy Miller, are trouble. Just as much now as you ever were then.” You point at him and go for a stern expression, but you miss by a mile when you start to laugh. He laughs, too, and Joel just shakes his head at the both of you.

“Aw come on, I’m an upstanding member of the community these days, you know? No one’s dragged me out of the drunk tank in Jackson.”

“Jackson doesn’t have a drunk tank, Tommy.”

“Semantics, sunshine.”

You and Tommy keep the show going through your first drink with only a little bit of input from Joel, but you can see him smiling and starting to enjoy himself. With the second drink comes the return of Tommy’s campaign for dancing.

“Look, I’ll go pick out a song from the jukebox, and I swear it’ll be a good one. See, there’s already a few people dancing.”

You look over, and sure enough, there are a few pairs sort of swaying in place by the jukebox. You turn back to Tommy with an unimpressed look on your face, but he grins unrepentantly. “You’ll just have to show them how it’s done, won’t you?”

He heads over to the jukebox anyway, so you turn to Joel. “What do you think? You up for it?” He looks around the room before his eyes return to yours.

“I’ve never turned down a chance to dance with you, darlin’, and I’m not about to start, even here.”

His words send heat rushing towards your face and you bite your lip to hide your reaction. He sees it anyway. “Smooth moves, Miller, as always.”

He shrugs. “With you, it’s always just been a matter of letting myself say what I want to say or what I’m feeling and somehow it works. I was never this smooth before you, so you should blame yourself, you know, you bring it out in me.” You shove his shoulder, laughing a little. “Or maybe it’s only meant to work on you.” He smiles a little when you roll your eyes, trying to hide the effect his words have on you. You wonder if the drink has opened him up a bit tonight, after your weeks of progress so slow you’ve almost been standing still. The thought makes you hesitate. 

“Really, though, this is ok?”

He regards you for a moment, and his expression turns intent. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “it’s more than ok, darlin’. Let me show you.” You shiver all the way down your spine. You nod.

Tommy returns triumphant from the jukebox – he’s set the next two songs, but then can’t make any promises about what comes after. The first is playing now, a slow song that won’t really do, but it’s already almost over. Joel stands and extends his hand to you to guide you out of the booth and towards the small dance floor on the other side of the room near the jukebox.

Right as you get there the track changes, and you hear the familiar opening notes of “The Fireman.” You have to give it to Tommy – this is a good choice. Good for dancing, but not one that either you or Joel associate too many memories with. You take Joel’s right hand with your left as he places his left on your back. 

“You ready?”

“Get on with it, cowboy.” 

He smirks, and does just that. He doesn’t hesitate, just starts two-stepping across the small dance floor. It becomes clear pretty quickly that not only do the two of you remember the steps, you’re almost, if not just as good together now as you were then. He starts to get a little fancy with it and throws in some spins that lead you from one end of the dance floor to the other, followed by a pretzel. You find yourself laughing, exhilarated, and you see a similar expression on Joel’s face. He looks lighter, his shoulders a little taller. He brings you back to face him, doing some simple steps for a moment, and then gets a glint in his eye that you remember well. 

“Joel–” is all you manage before he spins you out, pulls you back in, and you fall into his arms as he dips you, tipping you over his knee and off your feet, just for a moment. It’s not the fanciest move you’ve ever done with him, but it leaves you breathless, faces close together as he holds you there for a moment, smirking. 

He sets you back upright, and slows it down a bit. You can’t drag your eyes away from his but neither of you say anything. It feels like you’ve created a bubble where it’s still 2002, and you and Joel are tearing across the dance floor in one of the clubs in Austin, like no time has passed. You even heard Tommy whistle over the music when Joel spun you off your feet. Just like old times.

As you let your body take over, you start to feel a tingling sensation that travels from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. You’re getting overwhelmed, and your body knows what to do, but your mind is checking out. It’s like you're experiencing two things at once – your memories, and what’s happening now. You realize that you and Joel are still moving, but both of your expressions have gone still and unreadable. When the music stops, so do you, and for a moment, neither of you move from your embrace. 

Suddenly you notice that your heart is racing. You’re sweating and you’re out of breath. When did that happen? Joel’s chest is heaving, too. Distantly you remember Tommy saying he had no idea what song would come next and you wonder if you should move aside.

Before you can move even a finger, you hear the jukebox switching tracks, and you see the next song slam into Joel like a freight train. The first notes are barely over and he’s already pulled away from you, turning sharply and heading for the door so fast you realize your hands are still hanging in the air where he left them as the door to the bar closes behind him. You let them drop and start to move, you’re not sure where to, when you feel Tommy come up next to you. 

“Hey, sunshine, you alright?” HIs hand comes up to support your elbow as he moves in front of you and blocks the room’s view. You want to respond, but all you can hear is Lonestar singing about being in love, and all you can see is the Millers’ backyard in 2002. You feel the ghost of Joel’s hands on you and you swear you can hear him singing “Amazed” to you as you sway in place. You remember choosing this song for your first dance at your wedding. You blink your eyes, dazed.

You fist your hand in Tommy’s shirt, shaking him a little. “I need… outside. I need to go outside. Tommy, take me outside.” He’s already leading you to the door before you finish speaking.

Outside, you turn sharply to the right, planning to prop yourself up against the outside wall of the bar and remember how to breathe, but you find that apparently Joel had the same thought. He’s got one hand on his chest and the other in a death grip on the frame of one of the windows. He’s gasping for breath. You and Tommy call out at the same time, but you don’t think he hears you. 

Tommy starts to move towards him, but you elbow him away and slide between Joel and the wall, putting your right hand to his chest and moving his right hand from his chest to yours. “Joel, look at me.” He sucks in a breath and does, clutching at your shirt where you put his hand. “Breathe with me, ok, baby?” He doesn’t respond, but the two of you lock eyes and you start to breathe together. You can see Tommy out of the corner of your eye – he’s turned his back to the two of you, ushering people on as they pass by. 

You breathe together for a little while and eventually, Joel’s breaths come more easily, as do yours. You feel his hand relax and yours does the same where you’re clutching his right arm, holding him in place. Both of you are shaking. He tries to speak, clears his throat, and tries again.

“I can’t…” You shake your head sharply, afraid to let him finish that sentence. He moves his hand from the window frame to your cheek in response and smooths his thumb across your cheekbone. It settles you.

“Let me try that again. I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t know if I can be that man anymore.” 

You’re confused. “Joel, what man?”

“I’m not…” he takes a deep breath. “I’m a mess. I know I said slow, and we are moving slow, but I can’t see my way to our destination. I’m not the man I was Before and I don’t know if I can be him again.” He looks at you, eyes wide and afraid, and suddenly you’re angry. The words that have been caught in your throat for a month finally spill out.

“Joel, I’m not who I was Before, either. We’ve talked about it a little, but there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. Who I became and what I did. You don’t have a monopoly on the pain of the last 20 years, alright?” He opens his mouth, but you shake your head and tighten your grip on his right arm. “No. We need to talk, and we need to learn about each other. But the truth of you is still there.” You flatten your hand over his heart. “I can see you in there, Joel Miller. I can see you in how you parent Ellie and how you talk to Tommy and how you look at me. I can see the way you take care of us and the way you’ve started to step up to help the people here.” You grip his shirt and shake him a little, doing everything you can to keep eye contact. “It’s scary, sure, I’m terrified. But I’m not giving this up before it even starts because it’s hard, or because sometimes the memories will overwhelm us. I already lived 20 hard years without you and I’m not doing it again. Not when that’s not what either of us really want.”

Joel looks like you cracked open his chest, actually gripping his heart in your hand instead of his flannel shirt, his expression wild. 

“All I’m asking, baby, is that you try. I can do one step forward, two steps back. As long as we keep going forward, it doesn’t matter how much we backtrack on our way.” He doesn’t respond right away – he looks over your face, and down to his hand on your chest and back up to meet your eyes. You can see tears glistening on his eyelashes.

“Alright, darlin’. You don’t have to convince me to go after what I want. I’ve just been afraid to let myself have it. I don’t… I don’t want you to discover I’ve become someone you can’t abide.”

You bring both hands up to cup his face. “Joel, I’m afraid of the same thing. But I want to figure it out together, not apart.” He nods, and turns his face into your right hand, taking a deep breath. You feel him kiss your palm, lightly, and you shiver. “We can still take the long way. I just want you to walk it with me.”

You feel the adrenalin of the last fifteen minutes start to leave you and suddenly you’re a bit unsteady on your feet. He holds you up, moving his hands to your waist. 

“Are you alright, darlin’? Let’s sit down.” You shake your head.

“I think I’d like to head home.”

“Let me take you home, then.”

You both turn to find Tommy has moved a bit further away, but he’s still guarding you both from the foot traffic at the door. He looks over when you look at him, and smiles a little ruefully. “I’m sorry about that, y’all.”

“Nothing to apologize for, Tommy.”

“I can get that song off the jukebox–” 

Joel interrupts him, firmly. “No, leave it. I might…” he sighs. “We might want to hear it. Later.” You smile at him a little as he tucks your right arm through his left.

You say goodnight to Tommy and start to head home. The streets of Jackson are dark and quiet. You’re both quiet, too, letting the intense moment you just had settle as you lean on each other for support. Soon enough your houses come into view, and Joel walks all the way to your front door before he stops and turns to you and says your name softly.

“I have to thank you. You always know what to say to get me out of my head.”

“You always did the same thing for me, you know? We were good together for a reason.”

He smiles, and nods. “I know it.”

You reach out to pull him in for a hug, and you both squeeze a bit tighter than you have so far, since your reunion. You feel his left hand cup the back of your neck as the right slides down your back and pulls you closer. You’ve been through an emotional wringer in the last half hour, but you still feel your body start to respond to this man. Like it always has. 

You turn your head so you can speak quietly into his left ear. “I enjoyed our dance, you know? Before all that.” His hand takes a firm grip on the back of your neck and you shiver. 

“Oh, I know you did. I could tell.” 

You laugh, and smack him lightly on the shoulder. “Oh yeah? Well you were enjoying it too, I could see it.”

“Never said I wasn’t. Never could take my eyes off you on the dance floor.” He pulls back a bit, and you meet his eyes. Gone, for the moment, is the worry from before – what you see in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. He smirks at you and runs his thumb up the side of your neck. 

“Can I kiss you goodnight, pretty girl?” As he says it he tilts your head up towards his. Joel has always called you darlin’, from the very first time you met, and you love it. But there were some pet names he only used at certain times and, well. Pretty girl has the same effect on you now as it did then. Between that and his hand on your neck you swear your feet float off the ground.

You’re breathless, but you manage an actual response. “I thought you’d never ask, cowboy.” He huffs a laugh at that, and then pulls you in close.

You’ve kissed Joel Miller countless times. He kissed you for the first time in his backyard in Austin in 2001 and after that you can’t even recall every time or place you kissed this man, there were so many. You wouldn’t say you got used to it, but you did come to expect it – Joel Miller, available and ready to be kissed by you, whenever you’d like. You knew him inside and out and you’d kissed him everywhere and every way you could imagine, back then.

But everything about this kiss is new. 

Joel softly presses his lips to yours, tilting your head with his grip on your neck, strong and confident. You circle your arms around his waist, moving even closer as you press into the kiss. He moves with you, pulling back a little, but returning almost immediately and kissing you a little deeper, a little firmer. You part your lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he slides his hand down from your waist to brazenly grab your ass, deepening the kiss just a bit, running his tongue along your bottom lip and groaning slightly as you bite softly as his lip in response. 

You’ve touched him where you’re touching him before and he’s touched you like this. But it doesn’t feel the same. It feels new, and heady. It feels like a first kiss and a millionth kiss all at once. He’s kissing you like he knows you, and he clearly remembers what you like, but it’s also like kissing a stranger. One who’s picked up new moves that just echo the ones you remember from Before. One whose body is familiar but also different, changed and aged in ways you haven’t had a chance to explore just yet.  

Joel shifts his weight in a way that turns you slightly, allowing him to slide his hand down further and grip the back of your thigh before pressing you against your own front door. He uses his grip to pull your leg up, stepping closer and pinning you in place with his hips. 

He tilts your chin up again with the hand on your neck and uses his thumb to open your mouth wide. You’re pressed tight between him and the door, sinking into your growing arousal, sinking into him. He looks down at you, mouth held open and waiting for him. You feel hot and dazed, watching as he runs his tongue across his own bottom lip slowly. He meets your eyes, gaze heavy, before lowering his head and devouring your mouth. You sneak your hands inside his shirt to run your nails up his back as your tongues tangle. Joel moans, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and thrusts his hips into yours. Your breath catches as you feel his arousal meet your own. You feel desire pooling in your lower abdomen and your legs start to shake.

You might have gone on like that all night – you might have let him fuck you against the door, unashamed, outside where anyone can see you – but a door a few houses down suddenly slams shut, startling you both. 

Joel almost jumps away from you at the sudden interruption. Not far, he’s still got his hands on your hip and your neck. Your hands rest on his belt. He’s breathing hard and you suddenly realize you are, too. You shake your head, blinking, and start to claw your way back to awareness – your connection was so familiar, so easy, so much like Before. You’d sunk into those depths like slipping into a dream.

You blink at each other before you both let go at the same moment, standing up straight and stepping away. He lets his eyes dance over you, taking in your mussed clothes and swollen lips, before closing his own and pressing his palms to his eyes. He takes a deep breath. You can see the familiar outline of his cock in his jeans, and you force yourself to look away.

“I need to… I’m sorry, darlin’, but we shouldn’t. Not yet.” You nod. You try to convince yourself it’s the smart thing to do, even as you feel the pull of him like a magnet. Even if all you want in this moment is to pull him inside and make him finish what he started, just on the inside of the door this time. For some privacy.

“We still need to talk,” you manage. Your voice sounds unfamiliar to your own ears, but Joel nods in response. “But we agreed, right? This, us, together – that’s the destination. Even if we take it slow.”

“Slow,” he repeats, eyes lingering on your lips. He blinks, and meets your eyes. “Slow, yes.”

“We should walk away before we jump each other where the whole town can see.” You smile as you say it. It doesn’t sit right on your face. You take a deep breath and move to open your door without taking your eyes off Joel.

He smiles back, and nods. His attempt looks just as uncomfortable as yours. “Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you tomorrow? Or soon?” 

“Of course. Tomorrow.” Your feet feel rooted in place until he finally manages a step off of your porch. Your face feels like a mask as you try to present something pleasant, agreeable, fine with watching your heart walk away from you. The connection you just reawakened pulls taut between you and tugs at something deep in your chest. You keep your eyes on each other, and once he reaches his own porch you finally open your door. You take one last look, chest tight, before entering your houses at the same time. 

Inside, you close your door and immediately slide down against it to sit on the floor, head in your hands.

...

Austin, Spring 2001

You and Joel talked a few times between Sunday and Friday – standing in your front yard, once, and over the phone twice, finalizing your plans and flirting so much you found yourself not paying attention and getting wound up in the cord of the old phone that came with the house. He told you not to waste your limited texts on him, the dinosaur, but you texted him a couple of times anyway. Sarah must have taught him a few things because he actually sent you a winky face back once. It made you laugh and clutch your phone to your chest like some kind of swooning maiden. You told Emily, your friend at work, and she laughed at you so hard she snorted soda up her nose at lunch. Served her right. 

Friday arrived just in time to save you from working yourself up too much into a state of anticipation and nerves. You made yourself stick with the outfit you had picked out on Wednesday night when you talked to Joel on the phone and tried to figure out what was appropriate to wear dancing. He told you you’d be beautiful no matter what, but you wanted to look good on his arm for your first – and long awaited – date. You ran the outfit by Emily, too, and she gave it her official born-and-bred-in-Texas stamp of approval. (She also told you it was a good idea to wear jeans, because everyone else would likely do the same.) It wasn’t going to get much better than that.

Joel was going to pick you up at 7:30 after he dropped Sarah off for her sleepover. At 7:15 you were standing in your entryway with nothing left to do, feeling a little foolish. You looked around for something to occupy you and had just decided you’d put some dishes in the dishwasher, maybe, when there was a knock at the door. You glanced at the clock –7:17 – and raised one eyebrow while opening the door to find Joel on the other side. He was wearing cowboy boots, black jeans that were so tight in the hips it should have been illegal, and a button up green shirt that made your mouth water at how it showed off every line of his torso.

“A bit early, aren’t we?” you teased, leaning your shoulder against your door frame and crossing your arms.

“Well hello there, beautiful. I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. And you answered that door pretty quick, you know, to be teasing me like that. Were you waiting for me?” He grinned at you and winked. What a flirt.

“Maybe I was. You’re looking pretty sharp yourself, cowboy.” 

Joel offered his hand to you and you took it, stepping outside to join him before locking your front door. “Ready to go?”

“Lead the way.”

He handed you into his truck and set off for the taco place he’d been on you to try for months. 

(He’d learned earlier in the week while you were talking in your front yard that you still hadn’t gone, and the incredulous way he said your name had made you laugh.

“How? Darlin’, we told you about it months ago!”

“I’m busy, ok! And maybe I was waiting for an invitation.” You smiled and raised one eyebrow at him. 

He grinned, but shook his head. 

“Well, this can’t stand, darlin’. Seems like I’ll just have to take over from here, hmm? Make sure my girl is getting the best Austin has to offer.” He definitely caught your reaction to my girl, stepping closer and cupping your face with his right hand. You smiled at him, a little dazzled. 

“Pretty sure of yourself, huh, cowboy?” You smoothed your hands around his waist and linked your fingers at the small of his back. 

“Nah. Pretty damn sure of how much you deserve to be taken care of, more like.” You felt like you were going to swoon again, and really, twice in one week? This man.)

So you headed towards the taco place in the truck. Joel asked you about your week at work, how your students were doing, and he smiled a little when you told him that Emily approved your outfit for a night of dancing. 

“You tell her thank you from me, darlin’, I sure do approve, too.” He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. You laughed and rolled your eyes a little, moving to hold his hand.

The taco place turned out to be pretty crowded, but there were plenty of tables outside and soon you were settled with tacos and drinks. Your table was cozy, a two-person set-up right towards the end of their outdoor deck, which was strung with fairy lights. 

“Well? What do you think?”

“It’s lovely, Joel.” You felt his boot slide forward and settle against your foot. You smiled at him, resting your chin in your hand. “I’m glad you asked me out.”

Joel reached over and ran his thumb across your bottom lip, fingers cupping your jaw. “You got no idea how glad I am that you said yes, darlin’.” You opened your mouth to respond, but he left his thumb there, right in the middle of your bottom lip. He pressed down gently and you couldn’t help but dart your tongue forward to meet it. You watched as he inhaled sharply, staring at your mouth. You opened a little wider.

Joel shook himself and cleared his throat, pulling his hand away. “We should eat, baby. We got some dancing to do later.” He picks up a taco.

You smiled, enjoying the effect you clearly had on him, as strong as the effect he had on you. “Right. Dancing.” He shot you a look, picking up what you were implying.

“Eat your tacos, troublemaker.”

“Yes sir!” He coughed at your response, and you laughed, finally relenting. You picked up your own taco and took a bite.

You moaned.

“Joel! This is amazing!” You looked up from your food to find him watching you, dark eyes intent. “What?”

He just grinned, slow and smooth. “Nothing, darlin’.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but didn’t press.

Over dinner you talked more about your week, about the family party the Millers had coming up, about your worries for your students as you hit the midpoint in the semester. Joel asked you about your coworkers and some of your students by name, and your heart warmed just knowing he remembered them from the stories you’d told him. That he listened and cared.

He told you about the projects he and Tommy were working on now, and some of his frustrations with his crew and the clients. You realized, as you listened, that Joel had never really held back from sharing himself like this, not with you. You knew all of his crew by name and reputation, at this point. You could ask after their partners and you knew their roles on the team. He’d been opening himself up to you the whole time, just like you had with him. You’d barely noticed at first because you hadn’t had anything to compare it to, no idea he could be so careful and distant with people he didn’t know. Knowing him the way you did now, well. You smiled, still listening.

The fairy lights were setting everything off in a warm glow, but you felt like that glow was inside of you, too. Like the connection between the two of you was lighting you up from the inside. Your fingertips were tingling.

You wrapped your ankles around one of his under the table and squeezed. He winked at you in response. 

Around 9 you got back in Joel’s truck to head to the club he and Tommy had told you about. Apparently they sometimes played Latin music, but tonight was going to be all country, which meant two-stepping and line dancing. You felt your nerves, which had faded during dinner, start to return.

“Joel, you sure I know enough to go dancing? We barely got started last week.”

He reached over and set his right hand on your thigh again. “You’re ready, darlin’. Just follow my lead – I won’t throw anything too fancy at you.” 

You sent him a look. “Something tells me I shouldn’t believe you.”

He grinned, tapping his fingers against your thigh, sending tingles down your spine. “I did say nothing too fancy.” 

You soon arrived and Joel opened the car door for you in front of a large wooden building with neon figures in cowboy hats dancing across the facade. He took your hand again, lacing your fingers together, and started walking towards the entrance where there was a small line. It moved quickly and way too soon you were moving inside. Joel squeezed your hand as you entered the club.

The first thing that hit you was the sound – “Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up)” was blasting through the dark space. You looked around, noticing the tiered side areas with tables and couches surrounding a huge dance floor sunk into the middle of the club. It was absolutely teeming with people line dancing on one side and two-stepping on the other. You looked at Joel and grinned. “Where to first, cowboy?” He smiled back and tugged you towards the dance floor. As you approached you noticed the bar nearby on the first level.

He leaned close so you could hear him, his lips brushing your ear. “Let’s get a drink and then we can watch for a minute, let you get comfortable.” You nodded, smiling at how well he anticipated what would put you at ease.

He got you drinks and somehow snagged a high bar table close to the dance floor. You stepped up to it and he stepped up close to you, to your side and behind you, curving his left arm around your waist. He put his mouth next to your ear again. “What do you think, darlin’?”

You leaned back a little, letting your back touch his chest as you turned towards him to reply. “They’re dancing pretty fast out there, Joel. I don’t think I can keep up.” He raised his right hand to touch your chin lightly, turning your head to the left a bit.

“Look over there, do you see the split?” As soon as he pointed it out you saw it. Yes, there were some dancers going so fast it made your head spin, but there was an area off to the left where pairs were dancing slower, and some looked like they were still learning, like you. “Everyone here is real polite, real aware of each other. No one’ll make you go fast before you’re ready.”

It reassured you, and you leaned back a little more into his chest. He tightened his arm around your waist. “Thanks, cowboy. That does make me feel better.” He grinned at you and winked again.

As you finished your drinks he pointed out people doing the steps he’d taught you, showing you the different ways they could fit together with other things you hadn’t learned yet. You realized the song was changing, and “My Maria” started up. It was a bit slower than the songs had been so far, which seemed like a sign.

You turned to look at Joel. “Should we give it a go?”

He looked surprised, and then pleased that you suggested it. “Let’s get out there, darlin’.” Before he moved away he leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing your breath and then grabbing your hand to lead you to the dance floor. As you reached it, he turned backwards, leading you with both hands into an open spot. He moved you into the stance he’d taught you on Sunday.

“Just follow me, baby. I’ll guide you right.” You nodded and took a deep breath, and then he started moving.

It amazed you how quick you shook off your nerves in Joel’s arms. He was right, you did have a good handle on the basic steps, and he smoothly led you around your little area of the dance floor, deftly steering you around other dancers. He even threw in a spin that left you a little dizzy. “Joel!” 

“Sorry, darlin’.” He grinned, not looking sorry at all. “Just wanted to give it a try.”

You smiled back, charmed by his easy confidence on the dance floor. “Just warn me next time.”

A couple songs on the slower side followed “My Maria.” After three, you felt like you were letting the dance happen more naturally instead of staring at your own feet so much. Joel was smiling at you softly, and soon he sent you into another spin and caught you close. You stumbled a little and smiled at him. You realized neither of you were moving. You’d frozen in the middle of the dance floor, when his gaze darted down to your lips. 

You'd moved a little closer, breathless, when the crowd suddenly cheered, startling you into stepping back and looking around. You looked at Joel, who was grinning. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, but then you heard it. Most of the men were leaving the dance floor – the women in the room took over as “Man! I Feel Like A Woman!” started up. You laughed, but then stopped when you realized Joel was moving away, too.

“Wait, I don’t know what to do!” You were about to get corralled into one of the lines of dancers that was forming around you.

“Just follow along!” he called, grinning. You looked around and saw a woman you didn’t know beckon you closer.

“I’ll show you! Come on!” She broke it down for you slowly, and soon you were moving with the rest of the crowd. It wasn’t that difficult, you realized, just showy. You noticed some were throwing in spins and kicks, but you focused on the basic steps. Once you had a handle on it you looked up, looking for Joel.

When you found him, you almost froze in place. He was looking right at you, and by the look on his face, you knew he hadn’t looked away from you once. He was watching you with dark eyes, intent. It sent a shiver down your spine and you wanted to run to him, or for him to come back and dance with you again. He had a hand on his chin and he slowly rubbed his thumb along his lower lip as you met his eyes. You stumbled a little over the next step and he smirked, not meanly, more knowingly. You smiled back.

For the rest of the song you felt his eyes on you, and you felt like you were dancing only for him. It made you a little bolder – you swayed your hips more and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was angled low. It spurred you on.

By the end of the song you were breathless, and you’d worked yourself up so much you needed a break before you hauled off and dragged him into the bathroom. When you met his eye you knew he was feeling the same way.

The crowd surged a bit as you approached, and you tipped forward into his arms at the edge of the dance floor. “How did I do?” you asked, grinning. He studied you, looking slowly down your body and back up. Your face heated in response.

He leaned forward, arms around your waist, lips brushing your ear again, and said, lowly, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You tore up that dance floor, baby. Let me take you for another spin.” You closed your eyes and leaned your head against his, overwhelmed.

“Be My Baby Tonight” was playing then, and it was fast and a little intimidating. You turned your head towards him. “Get me a water, first, and then you can spin me all around the dance floor, cowboy.”

He ducked his head into your neck, leaving a kiss behind your ear, and then nodded. He turned and headed straight to the bar as you leaned against the high table next to you for support. You steadied yourself, taking several deep breaths. Dancing now. More of… that later. The thought made you chuckle, but you closed your eyes briefly against the heady anticipation it sparked in you at the same time. 

Joel reappeared back in front of you quickly, drinking his own water and watching you intently as you finished yours. “Daddy’s Money” faded into “Shut Up and Kiss Me” as he grabbed your hand to lead you back onto the dance floor without saying a word. Your heart was racing as you followed, eyes locked on his.

The practice and the line dancing had flipped a switch in you, and you found yourself adding little things that made the dance your own. Swinging your hips a bit slower, throwing in an extra twist, spinning faster. Joel met you step for step and encouraged you with every addition. The rest of the club fell away as the two of you moved in sync. You barely noticed when he threw in a new move – a backwards spin of some kind. He smoothly guided you in and out of it, grinning smugly when it worked. 

You danced straight through two more songs (“Fast as You” and “God Blessed Texas”, which the crowd loved). When “What About Now” started you found yourselves pressed even closer together, after the crowd that had formed for “God Blessed Texas”. You kept moving, but Joel caught your eyes right as the chorus started and your breath caught. He pulled you close and, to your surprise, sang softly into your ear, “How ‘bout tonight? Baby for once let’s don’t think twice.” You knew he could play guitar, and he’d mentioned before that he’d wanted to be a singer when he was a kid, but he’d never sung for you. You felt his voice, soft like velvet, sink deep into you and you squeezed your thighs together.

You pulled away and caught his eye, coming to a stop on the dance floor. He looked uncertain for a moment before he saw the look on your face. 

“Let’s get out of here, cowboy.”

He smiled wide and immediately turned and led you through the crowd towards the door. It took longer than you wanted but eventually you emerged into the cool night air outside of the club.

At his truck he stopped and slipped his arm around your waist. He whispered in your ear, “where to, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel.”

“Just home?”

You smirked at him. “Why don’t you get me there and find out?” 

He laughed, opening the door for you and jogging around to throw himself into the driver seat. As soon as he had the truck in drive his right hand was back on your thigh. Higher this time, and with his thumb rubbing a small circle into the outside while his fingers gripped the inside firmly. You sighed and sank a little lower in your seat. He glanced at you, and stood a little harder on the gas pedal.

Joel must have set a record between the club and your house, but soon enough you were pulling up in the driveway and he was opening the car door for you once again. You walked to your front door with him hovering right behind you, hands lightly brushing over your hips as he moved in step with you. 

You unlocked the door, but before you could open it he grabbed your hips and spun you around. You found yourself sandwiched between him and the door, left hand firm on your hip, right hand against the door to the side of your head. The echo of your dance positions made your heart race. 

He leaned in close, brushing his lips across your cheek before murmuring in your ear, “you got plans tonight, pretty girl?” You heard yourself gasp, lightly, and reached out to loop your fingers through his belt buckles. 

“Met some cowboy at the club. He followed me home, trying to get in my pants.”

Joel laughed, and moved a little closer. His left hand moved from your hip to your neck, thumb in front along your collarbone. “Well, are you going to let him?”

You hummed and pretended to think about it. “I dunno. You think he’s any good?”

Joel met your eyes, sliding his left hand to the back of your neck and squeezing. You inhaled sharply and you knew he could see the effect he had, written all over your face. He leaned in and his lips brushed against yours as he replied, “well, baby, you can be the judge of that, alright? After I make you come on my hand,” he kissed you, “and my mouth,” he kissed you again, “and my cock,” he kissed you one last time. 

Your head was spinning at his words and you could feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. You thrust your hips against his right thigh, firm between your legs. He squeezed his hand around the back of your neck again and you gasped as he moved back a little. 

“Well then, cowboy. Take me to bed.”

He reached behind you and opened the door, pulling you in by the waist as he deftly maneuvered you around it and into your dark hallway. He pulled the door closed and locked it with one hand behind him, never even moving away from you, before backing you into the wall to your living room.

“I’ll take you to bed, pretty girl, but I think I’ll take you right here first.”

Your back hit the wall but he didn’t stop, moving forward until his front pressed all along yours. He caught your lips with his, moving his hand back to its new spot around the back of your neck in a strong grip. With his other hand he undid your jeans, then used both hands to start to pull them down. You reached down to help, but stopped when you realized Joel’s eyes had caught on your underwear. Particularly the lace.

“This for me, darlin’?” As he asked he slipped his fingers into the slide of your underwear before moving his hands around to the back and reaching inside to grab your ass cheeks, one in each hand. You thrust your hips towards his, brushing lightly against his jeans.

“You see any other cowboys here?” 

He grinned. “I think I like the idea of you picking these out, thinking about what I might like.”

“Wait until you see what else I’ve got up there.” 

“Oh, I plan to.” He stepped back in to press you against the wall, moving his left hand back to your neck and his right hand around to the front to slip inside your underwear. “Mouth or fingers first, baby? What do you think?” 

You let your head fall back and rest against the wall, breathless at his question.

“Come on, baby. Good girls ask for what they want.” As soon as the words left his mouth you whined, surprising yourself, a tiny noise in the back of your throat, barely there at all. But he heard it. “Oh, do you want to be my good girl?” The effect his words had on you was obvious – chest heaving, eyes closed, heat rushing to your face. “That’s good, baby, that’s real good. Now tell me what you want.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to focus as his fingers moved lower in your underwear. “Your mouth.” You opened your eyes to see him grinning at you, eyes dark. 

“That’s my good girl.” He leaned forward, voice low in your ear. “Now, let me hear you moan for me like you did back in the restaurant, got it? I want to hear it, baby. Don’t hold back.” And without another word, he sank to his knees in front of you. You steadied yourself on the wall behind you, unable to tear your eyes away from him as he pulled off your shoes, and then your jeans, and then your underwear. You stepped out of them as he ran his hands back up your legs to your hips. He placed a light kiss on each of your hips, sending sparks straight to your pussy. Your legs started to shake. His right hand moved back down to reach behind your thigh and he lifted it over his shoulder. Any self consciousness you might have felt at opening yourself to him like that was immediately quashed by the hungry look on his face.

“Oh, pretty girl. I can’t believe I waited this long to get a look at this pretty pussy.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss just above your clit. You took a breath that sounded like a sob. “I’m going to treat you right.” He was looking straight at your pussy as he said it.

He leaned in and started with a slow lick, from your hole all the way up to your clit. You felt it like a tremor that ran from your toes to the base of your spine, almost taking you out at the knees. 

“Fuck.” Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair, but not pushing. He glanced up to meet your eyes before doing it again, this time maintaining eye contact. You felt like you were about to hyperventilate.

“Breathe, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

You whined again, softly, and he grinned. As he moved back to press his lips lightly to your clit, he brought up his right hand to tease his fingers at your entrance. He pressed his tongue down on your clit slowly, softly, before tracing the tip of it towards your hole. He pressed there, hinting at pushing his tongue past your entrance. You tightened your hands in his hair and he smiled, kissing you, right there, and then slowly pushed his tongue inside while his fingers moved up to brush against your clit. 

You felt like you were floating, like last week when you danced, and again tonight when you were so in sync on the dance floor. It was like he could read you and knew what you wanted before you knew you wanted it. He thrust his tongue inside, curling it a way that made you gasp, pushing your hips towards his face involuntarily. You moaned, low. He caught you with his left hand on your hip and pushed you back into the wall. 

“Good girl. Let me hear it.” He teased you again with the tip of his tongue. "You taste so good, baby. I could stay right here for hours.” You shuddered and he moved his fingers down to circle your entrance again. He pushed one slowly inside you. At the same time, he placed an open mouth kiss directly on your clit, lightly tonguing it as he found the spot inside of you that made you shiver. 

He kept it up as you moaned again, mercilessly thrusting his finger inside while lavishing your clit with attention from his lips and tongue. 

You felt your orgasm start to build slowly, from the base of your spine. It radiated up your back and tingled over your scalp, overwhelming you entirely as you pushed down with your hands in his hair and thrust into his mouth. His hand and shoulder held you up as your knees shook. “Joel, I–”

“I know, baby. I can feel you squeezing my finger. That’s it, pretty girl, let me see you come.” The wash of fire over you made you arch your back, and you called out his name as it took you. He worked you through it until you gently pushed his mouth away. 

You heaved a breath and looked down at him, finding him just as wrecked as you, his entire face wet from being buried in your pussy. You watched as he used your hip to pull himself up, standing over you as he pulled his middle finger from inside you and slipped it into his mouth. His eyes slipped shut and he made a noise like he couldn’t get enough. Your mouth went dry. 

Joel opened his eyes and reached for you, pulling you into his chest. “That’s one, baby. Ready for two?” You shuddered but fell forward, into his arms. 

“I think I need to lie down first.” 

He grinned, and wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you close to lean on him and walking backwards while holding you up. “Let me take care of that for you.” 

“Joel, I can walk!” You laughed as you said it. 

“Nonsense, darlin’. Happy to have you in my arms, now that it’s my job to make your legs shake.” He winked at you and tightened his hold around your waist, drawing you into a kiss at the bottom of the stairs. You couldn’t help but notice how good his arms looked, supporting you like that. You tucked your head into one side of his neck and kissed lightly behind his ear and along his hairline. He tilted his head to give you better access, humming. Then he lightly swatted your ass cheek.

“Let’s get upstairs, pretty girl.” He encouraged you to go up in front of him, and you grinned over your shoulder at him, knowing exactly why. He stared directly at your naked ass, unrepentant. 

Once you reached your bedroom you started to pull your shirt off, but he suddenly grabbed you by the hips and turned you towards him. He reached around behind you to grab your ass in both hands, pulling you into a searing kiss. Before you knew it he was walking you towards the bed, letting you fall onto it backwards. You bounced slightly and your legs splayed open as he stripped off his shirt, grinning at the sight of you. 

“Look at you, pretty girl. Why don’t you take off that top for me.” You did, and watched him remove his boots and jeans, too. 

Soon he was crawling on the bed, leaning over you on his left elbow while he slid his right hand up your leg, over your torso and finally to your cheek, where he pressed gently to turn you towards him and into a kiss. 

“I dreamed about you like this, you know. For a while now.” As he said it he moved his hand back down, teasing your nipple lightly. “You, spread out on a bed, just for me.” 

You kissed his cheek as he turned to look down your body, which squirmed a little under his gaze. “I did too, Joel.”

“What did you dream about, baby?”

You bit your lip to hide a smile. “Everything.”

He hummed, and moved his lips to your ear. He murmured your name. “I thought you wanted to be a good girl for me, hmm? Now, what did you dream about?” As he said it he tweaked your nipple slightly, making you gasp. 

“Your mouth,” you breathed it so quietly he nudged you with his nose to spur you on. You cleared your throat. “Your mouth, and your fingers. Can’t keep my eyes off your shoulders, never could, even that first day. Couldn’t stop imagining them moving over me as you fucked me.” Your voice was steady, but Joel took the opportunity to drop kisses down your neck, moving towards your chest. You started talking faster. “Your arms, holding me up as you fucked me against a wall. Your lips… everywhere. Your thick fingers, sneaking inside my underwear. Being full of you. Being good for you. Using my mouth on you, sucking you off. Riding you in the backyard. Sneaking into the bathroom together on a night out. Sneaking over in the middle of the night to wake you up by sucking your cock. Waking up to your mouth…” You sucked in a breath as he lightly took your left nipple between his teeth. Your mind blanked. You couldn’t remember anything more. “Everything, baby.”

He twisted his tongue around your nipple before sucking a kiss into the side of your breast. You sank your fingers into his hair as you arched towards him. 

“That’s my good girl, yeah? Where should we start?”

“What?”

He looked up at you. “Pick one, baby. Let’s cross something off your list.”

You smiled at him, a little shy. “What about your list?”

“Well, we have plenty of time. And don’t you worry about that.” He crawled over you, legs on either side of your hips, bulge obvious in his underwear. “You’re my list, baby. Everything you said, and everything else we can do, anywhere we can do it.”

You thought about calling him on the lack of specifics, like he did to you, but you knew you’d rather let him follow through on that promise.

“I want your fingers, Joel. Mouth, fingers, then cock, right?” You looked him straight in the eye as you said it. “How many do you think I can take?” He blinked, and then grinned wickedly.

“A good girl like you? I think you’ll take as many as I want to give you, don’t you?” Before you could respond, he leaned down and captured your mouth with his. This time he skipped past any build up and tangled your tongues together as he pressed down on top of you. Your legs were still trapped between his as he ground his cock, still hidden inside his briefs, against your hip. You ran your nails up his back and into his hair.

He shifted his weight to the side, freeing your left leg, which he grabbed at your thigh to push it to the side, opening your pussy to him again. He traced his fingers lightly from your knee to your hip, still kissing you deeply. Once he reached your pussy he traced through the remnants of your first orgasm.

He pulled back slightly, still close enough that his lips touched yours. “Is this pretty pussy always this wet?” You moaned as he slid one finger between your folds, teasing at your entrance. 

“It is for you.”

“Even when you touch yourself, thinking about me?” Your face heated a little, and you turned your head. “Don’t be shy, pretty girl. Nothing gets me going faster than thinking about you – how you look when you’re concentrating, when you’re dancing in your kitchen, when you’re relaxing on the couch in those little shorts you wear around the house.” As he spoke he kissed along your jaw and pressed gently with his finger at your entrance. Almost inside. “I think about your hair on my pillow, your thighs around my head, your mouth on my cock, your pussy on my face, your legs around my waist in my shower, and I can barely keep myself from coming in my pants like a teenager.” He slid his finger inside you, and you moaned again, clutching at his shoulders. “That’s it, baby. Now tell me. Do you get this wet when you touch yourself and think of me?” His voice was stern and his finger curled inside you, making you push your hips towards his hand. 

“Yes,” you breathed, turning your lips to his. “I’m always wet for you, Joel.” He took your mouth again, thrusting his tongue as he thrust his finger inside you. 

“Good girl.” His voice rumbled, low, deeper than you’d ever heard it. He slipped another finger inside you. “That’s two fingers, baby.” He thrust his fingers in and out of you as he devoured your mouth. He slid his left forearm along the bed until his hand was behind your head and he gripped the back of your neck again. “Let’s try a third, hmm?”

You curved your hips into his hand as he added a third finger, stretching you wide and filling you up. You could feel a buzzing in your ears and a tingle at the back of your neck where he held you in his strong grip. 

“That’s so good, baby. Taking my fingers so well. How does it feel?” He squeezed the back of your neck with his left hand as he curled his fingers upwards inside of you. You heard yourself whine before you realized you were doing it.

“Tell me, pretty girl. How does it feel?”

You sucked in a breath, and replied, “it’s so good, Joel.” You clenched around his fingers. “I – I need–”

He sucked a kiss into your neck, and then under your ear. “Tell me.”

“My clit—” you trailed off again as he moved his thumb right where you wanted it. You closed your eyes. He started drawing circles with his thumb as he thrust his fingers into you. You clenched your fists in his hair and in the sheets. You could feel it coming.

“Joel, I’m close,” you arched your back into him as he held your neck down in his hand. 

“I can see that, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me? Let go, and let me see you come. I want to see it up close this time, see your pretty face.”

As soon as he told you to, you did. Blood rushed in your ears as you arched your chest off the bed, thrusting your hips toward his hand. The orgasm took you hard – you saw stars, felt it radiating out from your core to the tips of your fingers and toes. You might have called his name, but you couldn’t be sure. When you came down you heard yourself breathing hard and realized Joel was murmuring your name in your ear. “That was beautiful, darlin’, I’ve never seen anything so pretty. I knew you’d come so nice, you had to, so fucking gorgeous. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, and all for me. You were such a good girl for me, honey.”

You caught your breath, and then caught his face between your hands, pulling him into a searing kiss. He smiled at you after. You slid your right hand down, trailing over his chest and into his underwear. You gripped his cock in your hand. “I believe you promised another on this cock, cowboy.” It was his turn to moan and thrust his hips forward as you ran your thumb across the tip.

“You know I’m good for it.” You helped when he reached to push his underwear down, then kicked it somewhere on the floor. You took his cock in your hand again, marveling a little at the girth. 

“I knew you were big, Joel, but damn.” He straightened his shoulders a little, looking smug. He caught your eye and winked. 

“You knew it, huh?”

“You weren’t the only one looking, baby. I’ve seen you in your swim trunks. And that day your pants slipped down a little, on the ladder? Well, you should have worn a belt, is all I’m saying.” He laughed.

He raised his right hand to trail his fingertips down your face and neck, and traced the shape of your right breast lightly. “Maybe I wanted you to look.” You tightened your grip on his cock and he pinched your nipple in response before moving his hand lower and cupping your pussy. 

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” he shifted his hand to your thigh, pushing slowly to make you bend your knee up to your chest. You nodded. “Hmm, I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck me, Joel. I’m not waiting any longer.” He lifted his head and grinned at you. You grinned back. He reached over and grabbed a condom from your nightstand and made quick work of opening it and slipping it on. 

“Well I know better than to keep a pretty girl like you waiting.” He shifted his weight, hovering over you. You moved your hands to his hips, but he picked up your right hand with his left and laced his fingers through yours before pinning your hand to the bed above your head. You shifted into it, loving the feeling of being held in place. You traced his shoulders with your eyes, watching as his muscles moved to hold you there. He tucked your left leg around his waist, your right rising immediately to meet it. 

Then he reached down to take his cock in hand and tease along your pussy from your clit down to your hole. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Ready for me, hmm?”

You curved your hips towards him, catching the tip of his cock between your folds. “Always, Joel.”

He thrust his hips forward in response, notching the tip right at your entrance. “Christ, darlin’, this is already so fucking good.” He was watching, looking at his cock just kissing your pussy. You felt heat rushing through you, watching him look.

“Now, cowboy. Give it to me.” He met your eyes again and did exactly as you said, pushing inside, studying your face. Your mouth fell open as you felt first the head and then the rest, stretching you wider than his fingers. You watched him lick across his bottom lip as he filled you up. He was staring at your open mouth. You were panting, tongue lax, surrendering to the stretch. You watched as he let spit gather on his tongue and then slip out, falling directly from the tip of his tongue into your open mouth. You caught it on your tongue and held it there. Your eyes snapped back to meet each other’s gaze as you moaned, loud. He thrust his hips forward, filling you the rest of the way in one swift motion.

He leaned down and licked inside your mouth, running his tongue along yours as he pulled back and slammed into you again, pushing you up the bed. For a moment you were both in a frenzy, your hips crashing together as you opened your mouths wide, tongues tangling, breaths coming hot and fast.

You twisted your hips, squeezing your legs around him, and he pulled his mouth away from yours. “You are so fucking hot, you know that? I ain’t never seen anything like you, never felt anything like this.” He was breathing heavily as he sped up his thrusts, reaching around your left hip and squeezing your ass cheek in his right hand. Pulling your pussy closer with his grip. “You’re taking me so well, such a fucking good girl for me.” You gasped, tossing your head back. “Feels like this pussy was fucking made for me. Christ.”

You could barely breathe, but you managed, “It was, Joel. All yours. No– nobody else.”

“Fucking right, all mine.” He pulled almost all the way out before slamming his cock back in. He tilted his head down and nipped at your neck where it met your shoulder. “All for me.”

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.”

He growled, speeding up his thrusts. He slipped his right hand from your ass back around your hip, sliding his fingers down to your pussy again. He tapped your clit once, sharply, and you let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. It sent a piercing arousal through you that made you tighten your legs around his waist. He grinned, and did it again, before starting to work at your clit in time with the strokes of his hips. 

He licked from your collarbone to your ear, whispering, “You ready to give me that third one, baby? I want you to come on my cock.” You whimpered and nodded. “Let me have it then.” He was filling you so perfectly, you could feel your orgasm building again. “Let me see it again. Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. Show it to me, baby. Please.” He bit down on the hinge of your jaw and you felt it hit you again. You squeezed his cock, tight, clenching your pussy as you came. This time it didn’t stop, the movement of his hips and fingers just kept it going, longer than you’d ever felt before. You fell into it. “Good girl,” he grunted as you felt his hips speed up, losing his steady pace. You felt like your orgasm shifted into a new gear as you clutched at his hair and cried out. He thrust hard into you one last time and your eyes flew open, yanking his face from your neck to watch his face as he came. 

You locked eyes as you both tumbled over and came down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had in your life. You were breathing hard, breath mixing together as you stared at each other. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of your favorite half smile. “Holy shit, Joel.”

He brushed his nose slowly along yours and moved his hips forward one more time. You gasped. “I knew it’d be this good,” he murmured. “Had to be. Fucking made for me, I knew it.” You smiled softly and pressed your lips to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. He caught your lips in a gentle kiss. “Such a good girl, all for me.” Despite how you’d spent the last hour with this man, you felt your face heat a little. He kissed your cheek. 

You both took a deep breath and he pulled out slowly, catching the condom with his right hand. He moved away to dispose of it and you stretched languidly, twisting your hips. You’d never felt so content, so satisfied. 

He came back quickly, cloth in hand to clean you both up before slipping under the covers with you. He pulled you close, tucking your head onto his chest and gripping your waist firmly with his arm down your back. With the other hand he traced designs on the arm you had flung across his chest.

“I’m mighty glad I asked you out tonight, darlin’.”

You smiled into his chest. “I’m mighty glad I said yes, cowboy.” He laughed at your imitation of his accent.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You sure do.” He reached down and tapped your ass lightly in retaliation. 

“Don’t you want to be nice to me, after I was so nice to you?” 

You lifted your head to look at him, and he was grinning. You shifted your weight so your left hip rested on top of his, bringing your left hand to support your chin on his chest as you looked at him. “You and I both know you like it when I tease you.” He shook his head, but couldn’t hide his smile. 

“Well, you got me. But it just means you fit right in.” You were a little dazzled at the idea of fitting in so well with his family – you knew he meant Sarah and Tommy.

For a moment you just looked at each other. His eyes swept over you, catching on where his now soft cock rested against your hip. You felt your heartbeat begin to slow and enjoyed the feeling of Joel pressed against you everywhere. You let your eyes start to fall shut. He reached over and tapped your chin lightly. 

“I know it’s early, darlin’, but I can’t help but imagine sharing a bed with you like this all the time.” He met your eyes, a little hesitant, as he said it. 

You tilted your head into his hand and twisted your knee between his, trying to sooth him by getting closer. “It might be early in terms of how long we’ve been doing this, Joel, but we’ve been heading this way for a long time. Since we met.”

He nodded. “I know it. But I still don’t want to rush it – I want to savor every moment that gets us there.” You smiled at the acknowledgement that you were both in this with the same goal, same dream. “And it’s not just about this, you know, even though you blew my fucking mind tonight. I love watching you get to know Sarah too, and seeing how we fit together. Everywhere.”

“Me too, Joel. She’s important to me, and I want this to last.” You looked at him for a moment, and then smirked. “We can take the long way, get lost in it a little bit. Do some exploring.”

He eyed you, and you could see that he was trying not to smile. “Exploring, huh?” He moved his right hand to your lower back and pushed down firmly, moving your hips to meet his as he thrust upwards. You felt his cock stir against your hip. “Well, you just let me know what you have in mind. I’ll be ready.”

...

a/n: chapter 5 coming Sunday, 8/27 :)

a/n: ch 5 now posted!

Tag list: @morgaussy  @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe

Club playlist (all songs are on the series playlist) Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up) John Deere Green My Maria I’m in a Hurry (And Don’t Know Why) (This Ain’t) No Thinkin’ Thing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! Be My Baby Tonight Daddy’s Money Shut Up and Kiss Me Fast as You God Blessed Texas What About Now Boot Scootin’ Boogie

[moonlit-escape]

★彡 ˙🌱. ¡! Vylad Mystreet headcanons !!

the second character i fell in love with. how cruel it is that he has fuck all going for him. I'll fix that.

korean and white

pansexual (actually this one is just canon) (cole petty ily)

doesn't have like a set label for his gender, and is cool with anything people wanna see him as

will try anything once

will put anything in his mouth

can sleep literally anywhere

i think this man might be the most laid-back, flexible person on the planet.

except towards geese because fuck those things

any time he has slept in a park he has made sure there were no geese around because those fuckers have stolen his stuff before and made him watch as they drowned it

listens to the most underground shit you've never heard and it all slaps (i didnt add this kind of stuff to his playlist though bc i wanted it to. make sense.)

also just listens to underrated music in general (includes just underrated songs from super popular bands)

currently holds an award for being the "funniest man on mystreet" and he didn't even have residency there

kind of has random visions about his friends in his sleep, but he just thinks they're normal dreams and that he misses his friends a lot (oh little does he know.)

used to say the most cryptic shit as a kid and freak his brothers out

being friends with vylad as a kid mustve been the weirdest experience. the kid eats glue, dirt, and moss, befriends frogs, crows, and moths, tells you you've suffered immense turmoil in a past life completely sincerely, and then infodumps about the entire history and process of typewriters for some fuckin reason

im 100% sure all three of the boys have autism and they got it from zianna

while he doesn't really want to connect himself to the ro'meave name (mainly bc of garte), he does love his family to death and sends his mom and brothers post cards every once in a while (when he remembers, mostly)

doesn't really reach out to his family any other way and neither do they. which he understands; communication is a two-way street

tries to stay positive and practice a healthy mindset and self-image, even and especially when he feels his insecurities and sense of self-worth creeping in

knows how to fish with nothing but a shoestring and a good fuckin stick

Loves pickin up good fuckin sticks

also cool rocks

he collects cool rocks from all the places he visits and keeps them in an old jewelry box. he keeps special ones he plans on giving to his friends in the top part of it

always making friends with stray dogs, cats, rats, raccoons, and opossums. someone stop him

has a johnny stein hotel transylvania relationship with his backpack (it literally has everything he owns in it)

knows how to fix and alter clothes

he knows how to do a lotta shit, alright. i don't think you'll find a craftier little guy than vylad ro'meave

except when it comes to fixing a water heater or anything to do with pipes or electrical tbh he hasn't lived in a house in a While

i'm obsessed w the idea that zane had spent so much time and effort trying to get gene to notice him meanwhile vylad enters gene's peripherals for 2.5 seconds and gene's like I Want Him.

poor vylad can't get on zane's better side for shit

owns a few skirts and dresses and high-heeled boots because he can wear whatever he wants

goes to ren faires whenever he can honestly. sometimes as a job!

when his hair gets too long he ties it back into a low ponytail or pigtails until he can get it cut again (doesnt really like having long hair)

wears weird and funky socks

he absolutely has a roblox account

likes to pronounce words wrong on purpose sometimes. mostly by putting emphasis on the wrong syllables

ABSOLUTELY adds extra e's to his words when texting bc thatse good showbiz babey!!

the type of kid where his first word was actually just a full coherent sentence

i'm coming to terms with the fact that he is most definitely a furry (not the type to dress up for it though. he just does artwork)

spent so much of his younger years trying so, so hard to achieve an astounding success to get his father to notice him. feeling like he had to "earn" his place as a ro'meave with him. but, it was a good thing he realized fast that that was never going to happen

because he did achieve some incredible things! he was a perfect child prodigy; on his way to dual enrollment by only his first highschool year

but, he realized, one whole summer with his father home, that all that work to be the perfect son, just like his brothers were, was.. really for nothing, when he saw zane completely break down one night after dinner

so, he dropped the course to dual enrollment entirely, asked to be transferred from o'casis to phoenix drop high, and decided to take more time for himself. figuring out who he is and what he likes. which, is sorta just turning out to be "anything, except the things he doesn't"

but, there's a lot out there still. and, while he still feels like he hasn't entirely found his own sense of self-worth, he's going to keep trying new things and discovering all that he can about himself until he feels whole enough to come home

[luckydicekirby]

would love any director's commentary you may have on The Only True Thing if slightly older fics are on the table here bc lowkey it changed my brain chemistry forever. I read it on a whim like four years ago at 1 in the morning and ever since then I've been hooked on making all my fav pairings miserable for no reason. this sounds like sarcasm but I'm being completely sincere the schadenfreude is exquisite

okay first of all I’m SO glad to hear this because making your favs miserable is I think one of the most rewarding activities on this earth so I’m really glad I could help share that joy. thanks also to sylvain for just making it so easy. anyway, here’s some assorted thoughts, hopefully some of which are edifying!

(the only true thing for reference for anyone playing along at home.)

this fic affectionately named the darkling au due to this tweet which I feel like I should put in a hall of fame someday. anyway this entire thread showcases the origin of this fic which was me catie and lily bullying each other on twitter about sylvix, a pastime left behind in 2019 which i really miss.

the thing that really first made me Crazy Cuckoo about sylvain is his B support with Byleth--I'm obsessed with that moment where he very coldly threatens to kill you and then laughs it off, and that was pretty much the jumping off point for Sylvain's characterization in this au--what if he was like that all the time? answer: it would be bad, but also pretty sexy!

One thing I miss about writing for fe3h is the hero’s relics were sooo nice as like. shortcut symbolism. the lance of ruin comes preloaded for you! It’s familial cycles of violence! Easy! and there's a mechanic for it breaking ALSO preloaded into the game mechanics! I wrote like three versions of the ending and the lance getting busted moved around a bit--it originally happened a little earlier.

For a while when I was still femblempilled I was idly thinking about two sequels to this—a sylvain pov sequel about the war, which would have been fun but also Yikes, and then epistolary dorothea/ingrid ideological divorce fic. sorry to dorothea and ingrid who really get the short end of the stick in this universe.

oh there's a playlist. I can’t claim to have put a ton of thought into it it’s just all my fav bad ya boyfriend songs <3 actually dead girl walking reprise is like. yeah that's the fic.

ANYWAY. I feel like a lot of my commentary on this has been washed away by the sea (the passage of time) so a few extras. I apparently wrote like 400 words of sylvain POV of the training yard scene also? Last edited September 26th 2019, here you go:

Felix has always been smaller him, ever since they were kids. Still is these days, to Sylvain’s delight. He wondered about it plenty, these past two years--maybe Felix had a growth spurt. Maybe he caught up to Dimitri. Maybe Sylvain would meet him at the monastery and they’d see eye to eye. Of course they don’t. Felix is a head shorter than him, and he’ll never see things the way Sylvain does. Still. Sylvain thought about it. He’s had a lot of time to think about Felix since the last time he saw him, since Felix ran away. Still a crybaby at heart, no matter how sure he was he’d grown out of it. Not much has changed, Sylvain figures. Felix might have everyone else fooled with that delightfully sharp-edged exterior of his--a pretty decent feint, Sylvian should know--but Felix can’t hide from him. Sylvain sees him down to the bone. The two of them are a matched set: liars at heart.  Like right now. Felix is trying so hard not to cry, his back to the wall of the training yard, his grip tight around the wood of his training sword like he’s actually going to use it. Sylvain hopes he will. He hasn’t gotten to see Felix fight yet, really fight. He bets he’s gotten better. He bets he’s elegant and controlled—maybe less so with Sylvain, and wouldn’t that be nice? That’s how it goes sometimes, when Sylvain dreams about their last day together. Felix’s sword at his throat, biting and cold, ending all this before it began. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble. Sylvain wouldn’t have had to spend such an awfully long time missing him.  He bets Felix could make him hurt. Nothing seems to do that anymore, except for thoughts of Felix, the ones he can never stop worrying at like a bruise.  Sylvain doesn’t want much these days, and maybe that’s why it’s so hard: he wants Felix in a way that aches, delirious and unstoppable. It doesn’t matter so much how. Felix is welcome to cut him open or kiss him quiet or anything in between. As long as he never stops looking at Sylvain like he is now, hateful and just on the edge of tears, so clearly focused on nothing else. As long as Sylvain can have that, the rest doesn’t matter.  That’s love, Sylvain figures; the cheerful facade he gives the girls is nothing. He forgets about a new one every week. But Felix? He’ll be dead someday, and Felix will still have a grip on his heart, as tight as he’s holding his sword and just as dangerous.

and what exists of the sylvain POV sequel I never wrote:

Felix looks like shit. Of course he’s also beautiful. He’s radiant, for all that his hair’s a mess and his face is drawn and he’s got the kind of dark circles that only come from weeks and weeks of exhaustion. He’s Felix, right? He can’t be anything else. “You look like shit,” Sylvain tells him, because honesty is what Felix thinks he wants from him. He hasn’t seen Felix in six moons, but that probably hasn’t changed. “What are you doing here?” Felix asks. His horse stamps her feet and shakes her head, moving uneasily under him. Felix has never been a good rider. It’s clear he doesn’t appreciate his mare, and she doesn’t appreciate him. Sylvain wonders how long Felix has been making his way across Faerghus like this. He wonders if he stole the horse. It’s awful not to know. “Looking for you,” Sylvain says. “They say you’re searching for the king.” Felix never could stop himself from chasing ghosts. Sylvain hates that about him. It’s just as unfair as everything else: it’s the only reason Sylvain is still here, after all.  “I am. And you should be defending Gautier territory.” “Got a message from your father,” Sylvain lies. He slides off his horse, patting her flank. Felix, clumsily, does the same. “He wants you to come home.” That part’s probably true.  Felix scoffs. “My old man can send all the messages he wants. I’m going to find the boar.” He means it. Sylvain can see that he means it, in the flinty look in his eyes, the fold of his arms, the jut of his chin as he looks up at Sylvain. It’s the saddest thing Sylvain’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot of shit. “Felix,” he says. He reaches out. He can never help it, not when Felix is like this, not when he believes. Felix doesn’t flinch from Sylvain’s hand on his cheek anymore. “Sweetheart. You know he’s dead.” “Don’t call me that,” Felix says. But when he swings himself back in the saddle and Sylvain does the same, he doesn’t tell Sylvain not to follow. That’s more than good enough. 

[andie-platonically]

Fantasy High characters as songs by The Mountain Goats

1. Kristen Applebees - Before I Got There

“And the tapestry above / Torn down, trampled then re-hung / Now illegible forever / An oracle with no tongue/ All of this, all of this / All of this before I got there”

I think this song so perfectly mirrors Kristen’s relationship with both Cassandra and Ankarna. Like, both of them had been corrupted and used to further other people’s evil plans with no regard to their original followers’ intent. Until Kristen arrived. Until she lovingly restored them to their original forms with such respect to why they were created, and her compassion is one of my favorite things about her character.

2. Riz Gukgak - Ground Level

“You can light a cigarette / against the cooktop if you need to / feel the heat against your forehead / let it bleed through / you’re never gonna get by / on three hours of sleep a night / unless you absolutely have to / and then you get by alright.”

I almost picked Bones Don’t Rust, which you should also add to your Riz character playlist but I went with this one instead. We see Riz take up smoking in Junior Year, we see him not sleeping and overworking himself throughout the series, and I think a lot of that does come from a place of going beyond his breaking point, steadfastly refusing to break, and thinking that means he’s okay.

3. Fabian Seacaster - Wage Wars Get Rich Die Handsome / Great Pirates

I’m cheating and giving Fabian two songs because he changes so much throughout the series. Here’s the first one:

“Stay independent, make adjustments as needed / it’s losers all the way down, you stay undefeated / wage wars, get rich, die handsome.”

I think this song is peak Fabian from Freshman Year. It references motorcycle riding, the narrator genuinely thinks he’s such hot shit, and I mean like, come on. Wage wars, get rich, die handsome. It’s literally perfect. But Fabian grows. He changes. So here’s the second song I picked for him:

“On the morning when I stop looking back / I’ll be up to see the sunrise in deep, bruise black / And bright, blood red / And pale desert rose / And several other colors like those / great pirates, testing the waves.”

Okay, so obviously it was fun to use a Mountain Goats song with pirates in it, but also, I interpret this song as being about moving on from your past and looking towards an uncertain future. So much of Fabian’s arc has been him figuring out who he is beyond his dad’s legacy, and so I think this song works really well with that. (I probably could have picked any Jenny from Thebes song and it would have a lot of those themes, but come on, pirates!)

4. Fig Faeth - Cry for Judas

“Speed up to the precipice / and then slam on the breaks / some people crash two or three times / And then learn from their mistakes / But we are the ones who don’t slow down at all / and there’s nobody there to catch us when we fall.”

I think Fig’s self destructive tendencies are more evident early on in the series (see: all her affairs with middle-aged men) but honestly, the way she puts herself on the front lines again and again for her friends is just as destructive imo. Also, this song gives such difficult child-energy, and I think sometimes this is how Sandralynn sees her. This kid who didn’t deal with her curse because it didn’t seem important when her friends had other things going on. This kid who skips her classes, is straight-edge except for drugs. This kid who was knocked unconscious in her first combat and wanted everyone to think she spent the whole time fighting.

5. Adaine Abernant - Up the Wolves

“I’m gonna get myself in fighting trim / scope out every angle of unfair advantage / I’m gonna bribe the officials, I’m gonna kill all the judges / It’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage.”

Trigger warning to those who need it: Sunset Tree is about abuse, which is obviously quite prevalent in Adaine’s arc Freshman/Sophomore Year. It was between this and Lion’s Teeth. What I like about this song for Adaine is that it is tragic, of course it’s tragic, but it also shows her rage, not just for herself but for Aelwyn too. This is a girl who took what her parents did to her and said that’s not fair and punched her dad so hard in the face that he died. I also think that given how Adaine’s relationship with her mother is so much more complicated, the other parts of this song work well with that.

6. Gorgug Thistlespring - The Slow Parts on Death Metal Albums

“Drive home alone and listen to the slow parts / In a new universe / trying to find the mask that still fits me / shaking the curse.”

I’m gonna be so real, I really struggled with this one because I just don’t relate to Gorgug as much, but I’m so infatuated with the idea that he listens to the slow parts of death metal albums, and I do think that this song, to me, fits the fact that Gorgug doesn’t really fit the roles anyone expects from him. He’s not just a mindless raging half-orc, he’s also kind and shy and gentle and loving. But he does have a lot of rage and he reacts violently at times and his parents love him but they don’t always know what to do with that.

Bonus song! Jawbone - Midland

“Come and stay with me as long as you like / I live outside of town where the straight highway curves / three years I lived next door to the airport / so nothing you can say to me can get on my nerves.”

Jawbone collects fucked up teens like pokemon cards, so I every time I hear this song I think of him. Also, the way the narrator of this song gives the subject time and space to go through things and assures them that yeah, I’ll still be here, is so very Jawbone-coded imo. Also, later in the song, he says “stay till you can grieve like normal people do / I’ve got room, room in my house for you.” Like, every line of this song is just so Jawbone I need y’all to understand.

Bonus song #2! The Bad Kids - When a Powerful Animal Comes

“Speak in gestures only we can understand / we’ve made mistakes / everyone spots their own mess / when the dawn breaks / we get so exhausted / lost kids, just wasted / sleep in short shifts then rise to our feet / life is short and life is hard and life is sweet.”

This song is the most Bad Kids shit I’ve ever heard in my life. If it’s not in your Bad Kids playlist, you gotta add it now and Weary Adventures by Skull Puppies haha anyway It’s just literally so perfect. It’s just these kids with the weight of the world on their shoulders, so fucking tired of saving the world. It’s literally the overall arc of Junior Year!

[jklovesfandoms]

Do you have any miscellaneous lautskity headcanons?

Oh boy, do I!!

1: Steph wears rings. Like a lot of them. She claims that she wears them because she likes them (she does) but it's really because Pete and Grace like to fidget with them while they hold hands.

That also means that she loves being in the center of the cuddle pile.

Pete and Grace have their personal favorite rings of Steph's, and once Steph figures it out, she adjusts what rings she wears on what hands to secretly influence which partner is on which side. She keeps on waiting for them to figure it out, they never do.

2: Grace, shockingly, sleeps like a starfish. Like, fully spread out. Unless she's cuddling one of her partners, but the second her body senses that there is no one else in the bed, she completely stretches out.

Steph sleeps on her side, with her hands tucked up to her face, usually holding a blanket. But with her partners, she'll sleep on her back, because she has mild anxiety if she cannot feel both of them.

Pete sleeps in the fetal position, like the most curled up man known to mankind. You cannot change my mind about this, because I am correct. He also sleeps with a weighted blanket, when not with at least one of his partners.

3: Grace plays ukulele (she's a church camp kid, as an ex-church camp kid that's a good third of what we did), so anytime that Steph or Pete show her a song, and are like "us, fr fr <3" she learns how to play it, just to surprise them.

Pete doesn't do songs very often, nor playlists. He instead does the nerdiest memes ever. He convinced them once to make their discord statuses be protons (Steph), neutrons (Grace), and electrons (Pete). He's a nerd, watcha gonna do.

Steph is the playlist maker, even if they aren't dating yet. So when she shows her partners her Spotify playlists, they immediately spot three playlists. "pining 4 her" "pining 4 him" and "oh fuck im so gay". Pete made "oh fuck im so gay" her contact name for the next 3 months, and they still mention it at least twice a week (just to see Steph's face go red).

4: Grace and Pete blush SO easily. And Steph takes great advantage of this (their contact photos are of them blushing and trying to hide from the camera).

That's why they mention the playlist name, because it's like the one guaranteed way to get Steph to go bright red in a split second.

5: None of them are good at taking compliments. Grace absolutely takes them with the most ease, but Pete and Steph just kinda go deer in headlights mode, before blurting out a mildly awkward "thanks?"

6: Steph is the "Hey! He said no pickles!" Right away, because neither of her partners are socially confident enough to stand up for themselves.

Grace is the "Excuse me? He asked for no pickles. Could we get a replacement, please? Thank you!" Because she can stand up for her partners, just not got herself.

Pete would sooner eat the pickle then dare correct anyone for himself. With the exceptions of when his blood sugar is low and he wants his god-damned hot chocolate, and for his partners. He has a backbone, it just only exists for everyone else. It's not for himself to use.

7: Grace is the ultimate clothes thief. They all steal clothes from each other, but if there was a contest, Grace would win by a landslide.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/2/2024

in which i try to clean two different boxes with varying success

new people: hello! the tuesdaypost is a weekly roundup of stuff i've been listening, reading, watching, playing, and making. it is NOT a recommendation series, although i sometimes dabble in critique. when im firing on all cylinders i ask "what is the core concept of this? does it succeed in what i think it's trying to do and what it says it's doing?is it well-made but i dislike it/beautiful but not for me? why? what parts Really Work?"

if you are into purity culture, yelling at other people about the problematic media they consume, or are under 18 i am going to have very little patience for you.

listening

now that i live in houston i am legally obliged to loop the new beyonce album 24/7. there is absolutely truly nobody fucking doing it like her. every song is a multimedia art piece. goddamn do i miss the album as a tool to convey a specific concept/listening order/flow. sometimes (chappell roan most recently comes to mind, although it does feel unfair to compare anyone to beyonce) every individual song is pretty good but the listening experience if you sit down and listen all the way through the album is unpleasant and choppy. not so here. NEVER here.

my favorite like Dance Number is YA YA (it samples nancy sinatra's boots! and the beach boys' good vibrations! wildly different tones despite coming out a year apart!)

the one that goes on four different character/tone playlists is BODYGUARD.

great early roundup of influences, samples, and collaborators. delighted to see five fingers for marseilles listed, a rocky but underrated south african neo-western free on tubi rn for americans

-

reading

also very texas-relevant with the recent pornhub lawsuits! pornhub and sex tech (among other things) have been samantha cole's beat for almost ten years. i trust her to report sensitively and not for like. shock clicks

this site has a free paywall (sign up with your email for a link to the full article) so bots have a harder time scraping articles: this is a journalist-founded site with only the four founders running it and writing articles. while annoying i do think this is a reasonable measure

The platform still has problems, but after years of critical reporting and a litany of legal and reputational consequences, Pornhub is now more heavily moderated than any other porn platform, and most major social media platforms, for that matter. A growing list of age verification laws has put Pornhub in a position where it is compelled to block access to its site in seven states and counting. In theory, these laws are designed to prevent children from being able to access pornography online. In reality, what is going to happen is that children are going to end up on pornographic sites that don’t care what the law says, and where some of the most harmful content that exists online is actively promoted to them.

she's also got a new limited series podcast with CBC about the rise and fall of pornhub, which was fascinating and kept me company during an extremely early morning drive

-

watching

i'm lukewarm about this one but i spend a lot of time getting there, much like this movie

ive been watching a lot of frankly dogshit thrillers, which has made me wonder: what's the deal with supervillans? where did they come from? and thence arrived at the prototypical film Dr Mabuse the Gambler (1922, dir. Lang). the four and a half hour cut on Kanopy is two normal-length movies superglued together, which makes sense as a streaming product but it is sort of a terrifying runtime and took me three days to get through.

sometimes, as we know, i get a real bee in my bonnet about visiting the early versions of things. dr mabuse is the blueprint for every james bond and mission impossible villain, or really any shadowy supervillain with power over [INDUSTRY] or [THE MARKET]. it is a four and a half hour long cat and mouse game through lavish, eccentric sets between mabuse and prosecutor wenk. it has some trouble sustaining itself bc it is four and a half hours long but does deliver on the cat and mouse aspects. this letterboxed review has interesting things to say about the political climate of 1922 germany and how lang subverts the formula of the pulp serial.

really the film opens with mabuse yelling at his cocaine-addicted assistant, but the film properly gets going with mabuse's henchmen stealing a trade agreement (nothing really carbon dates a movie more than a missing trade agreement. vanishingly few post-early-30s movies have missing trade agreements as plot points) and then he crashes the stock market. for fun and profit.

however. i think every time you see an evil man who is a banker or stockbroker or generally uses money as power you have to interrogate whether it's antisemitic. the answer here is "maybe" but i'm not sure if intent matters when contemporary nazi critics were eager to hold mabuse up as "this is the typical jewish criminal". (sorry about the link directly to wikipedia, it's been touch finding online sources for this section). mabuse is not specifically jewish, but there are certainly elements of stereotype. i am still not good at being presented with "this movie has a shadowy behind the scenes figure manipulating the government and all the money ever" and going "hey wait a minute".

after that tremendous glaring caveat, for which i read more contemporary reviews and reviews in general than i ever read for movies in these posts, is it good? eh. a contemporary VARIETY review remarked (and i largely agree)

The direction of Fritz Lang has moments – but Lang somewhat negates his good technical effects by twenty forty-word captions of a ludicrous unconciseness.

the night scenes are particularly well done, and imo are better than many modern night scenes--other contemporary reviews remarked

In this film the techniques of the film camera (Carl Hoffmann’s brilliant photography) are brought to perfection. The problem of how to film lit-up streets at night has been solved for the first time. It is unbelievably impressive to see the glaring lights of speeding cars flash through the night or the rapid passing of an elevated train of the initially blurred, then gradually focussed glimpse through a pair of opera glasses on to the variety stage, the nuances of light and shade—these things alone prove the value of film documentary.

look at this shit! filmed from within the cars! in 1922!!!

this film asks you to believe hypnotism is real and really effective, so i don't think it's that big of a leap when it asks you to believe in ghosts. i don't understand that quibble from contemporary viewers. there are several on screen suicides with like. specific methods. which is not currently regarded as good filmmaking practice. im curious to know what contemporary audiences thought but couldn't immediately turn anything up, and wading through masters’ theses on cinematic suicide is a little beyond my current mental health.

if i were a more content-minded woman this would turn into a clickbait video essay about the antisemitic origins of every supervillan. however i am unqualified and untalented at video editing and i'm sure there are forty theses on this already. this movie is a hard sell to anyone jewish or employed. it is also a stunning example of cutting-edge film technology and part of the genesis of the modern supervillan. Fritz Lang films tend to fall in the category of “movies i am happy to see once and feel no need to revisit”.

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playing

playing what is effectively the same game three times back to back (breath of the wild, tears of the kingdom, genshin impact) has sort of burned me out on open world games with a focus on battle skill progression and stumbling across little puzzles in the overworld. i have to get itch.io up and running on this pc and find the most linear jankiest possible one-sitting indie thing. or several of them. i might try the solo ttrpg Gentleman Bandit i seem to have acquired in one of the giant charity bundles

brief breath of the wild update bc i don't want to pull screenshots off my switch: i have gotten to the boss fight for the gerudo and goron regions, have not completed them bc my focus in this game is NOT hearts, and am in the middle of the zora temple. despite the quality of life improvements and new regions in totk i think i prefer botw: progression is a bit easier, there are fewer mmo-style hub quests and repeatable quests. things like the stable photos are cute but very repetitive, so are the sign bracing puzzles, and the sky crystal quests for sky shrines feel VERY samey. also dislike how the CLEAR OUT: [REGION] quests with the monster suppression squads reset at the blood moon.

anyway! to genshin! there was an exceptionally fun little event with a surprisingly involved management sim tacked onto the game??? you make and sell potions fulfilling different requirements, and can eventually stock travelling merchants all over the continent. the actual act of making the potions was this block-filling 1010! style thing (screenshot from polygon)

the new region, a port town and tea-growing area called Chenyu Vale, is maybe the prettiest one in the game so far? it's the one that feels the most picturesque and Designed, like this is one huge mansion garden studded with follies. they also added background chatter and noise in the cities and towns, which really startled me and makes them feels much more lived in! this is a fun trick to avoid putting in a thousand NPCs and making everyone's framerate crash. the less stuff in your game, the less shit can go wrong.

also pulled for and got chiyori, a geo-aligned seamstress (and sometime spy???) swordswoman who has what i can only call domme voice

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making

ok now we'll talk about boxes. i was rearranging my kitchen, as unemployed women are known to do, and noticed this recipe box i picked up back in mass was disgusting. the finish is starting to fail but it was genuinely grody and last summer i packed my kitchen in a blind panic inside an hour and did not have time to address it. i have never seen a recipe box at an estate sale before or since and it made me desperately sad.

it was full of a lot of stuff.

i went at it with a somewhat inadvisable combination of things: wood soap didn't budge it, so i dampened a paper towel in vinegar and wiped it down in the vain hope it would do something. the thing that worked, and would be inadvisable for anything veneered or less densely textured, was baking soda paste and the scrubby side of a sponge. it still smells Very musty even after 48h of loose baking soda inside with several changes, but that might be partly the recipe cards' fault. i would like to refinish this at some point but i don't have polyurethane on hand and the fun little project budget is empty until further notice/i get a job.

the hinge did rust a bit despite my best efforts but that has since been lightly steel wooled and oiled. a well loved object! it's possible the lady who died just fucking sucked and that's why literally her entire estate including many other things families usually keep was on sale, but i would like to think perhaps she simply had no other family? a well loved/used object even if all the recipes are for semi-horrifying fifties new england recipes.

the other box, pre-acids but post-washing: this topp trading card box with seven episode one packets of cards was intact with the original seal. i have verified it was not worth much more than the $5 i paid for it with the trading card obsessed man in my best friend's husband's friendgroup. i bought this three months ago but the man was unavailable to open it until uhhh last week. some sort of liquid got inside it at some point and it was super corroded. i was going to store embroidery floss in here but even with all my powers (barkeepers friend. brasso.) i cannot completely remove the corrosion. it's not corroded Through but it looks bad and feels rough. so it goes. it'll probably hold the tiedown straps in my car bc that plastic bucket is rapidly failing

[prayerforlovingsorrow]

Hi! I made Suckening playlists for the main pcs. It's a mix of music they'd listen to/like and songs that remind me of them. I'll link them with a long rambly explanation for why I chose the songs or genre. Let's start with Emizel.

Emizel's is heavy in punk rock and anti-authority music. We have some indie musicians like The Ghost Atlas and The Ruby Does because it would be things he'd probably hear live at a bar or something. There's other things like MCR or Three Days Grace which should be obvious. He was the easiest when it came to choosing music.

Arthur was the most fun. I tried to stray away from the usual angsty sad boy spotify songs and I spent a while finding things that fit him really well. There's some old stuff like Chet Baker and some stuff like Concrete Blonde that I feel would fit his vibe (Bloodletting the Album was made for him in my opinion). Also, you'll spot a few songs from VTM:Bloodlines on here because he fits really well into the game. There's also a MALICE MIZER song because for some reason I associate him with visual kei. Cadaver by Conditional is on the Hunter the Reckoning mix by WOD because of his association with Vampire Hunters.

Finally Shilo. He has a lot of indie pop/folk because I associate him with it I guess. You'll find a lot of Hush Sound on here because I feel like a lot of their songs was made for him. Specifically A Dark Congregation and Wine Red. The Crane Wives are on here of course. I threw in a Concrete Blonde song here though because it fits him heavily. Second Child, Restless Child lyrically fits him quite well- wanting to see the world outside and such. He's pretty straightforward.

Anyways that's all I wanted to share because I thought too deeply about these dumb playlists.

[yuzurujenn]

[2024.10.15] BRUTUS November 1, 2024 issue No. 1018 - Beautiful Architecture and Windows

OPEN MY WINDOW Open your own window. Hanyu Yuzuru special photoshoot.

Yuzuru Hanyu Hanyu Yuzuru / Born in Miyagi Prefecture in 1994. He won two consecutive gold medals in men's singles figure skating at the Sochi 2014 and Pyeongchang 2018 Olympics. He has also won numerous World Championships and Grand Prix Finals. In 2018, he received the People’s Honor Award. After turning professional in July 2022, he became a producer and held three solo shows, including "GIFT" and "RE_PRAY." He also has a picture book titled "GIFT" (text: Yuzuru Hanyu, illustrations: CLAMP).

What do you see from your window, Hanyu-san?

One summer day in a house studio, Yuzuru Hanyu was sitting by the window. He gazed at the garden, which glistens in the quiet sunlight shining through the trees. Behind the sound of the shutter, Erik Satie’s "Gymnopédie No. 1," which he had selected from his iPhone playlist, was playing on the portable speaker.

"During shoots, I always choose a song that suits the situation and the intention for each shot. Since turning professional, I've had more opportunities to be photographed not just as an athlete, but as a person and an artist, and each time I am reminded of how many people put in a lot of time and effort to create a single photograph. When I heard that today’s theme from BRUTUS was 'windows,' I approached the shoot as if I were trying to fit myself into a crafted story."

At the beginning of the score for "Gymnopédie No. 1," the performance instructions read, "Slowly, with sorrow." The gentle yet melancholic melody resonates with the struggles a skater must have faced both physically and mentally, before and after achieving glory. Hanyu-san, what do you see from your window?

"When I used to live in Toronto, my house was on a high floor of a building, so I could see the whole city. It was raining in the areas covered by clouds, but I often saw rainbows in the gaps between the clouds where it wasn’t raining at all. That scene left a strong impression on me. I also can’t forget the view I saw from the airplane window during overseas trips. Whether it was on my way to Europe or coming back, I can’t recall clearly, but the plane was flying above the clouds, and only the moon shone brightly amidst the surrounding darkness. The brightness of the moon made it impossible to see the stars, and that scene was so beautiful that I rested my forehead against the window and gazed at it for a long time."

A town in the rain and with a rainbow. Darkness and moonlight. Even these scenes seem to suggest the journey he has taken so far. During the photo shoot, Hanyu was photographed from both inside and outside the window, but which side does he prefer?

"Personality-wise, I guess I'm the type who likes to keep to myself. I'm an introspective person, and I've often thought deeply about myself and people since I was little, so in that sense I might be the type of person who prefers to close the window and focus on being alone. However, I believe that even the most sociable and cheerful people need personal space and sometimes want to close all the windows. But those windows must have handles on them, so that when the time comes, someone else can open it for them, or they can open it themselves… That's what I was hoping to express in that window-shoot I did earlier."

He announced his transition to a professional career in July 2022. It was a declaration of his unwavering commitment to move forward. Although he stepped away from the competitive world where he compared himself to others, his battle with himself continues as he strives for even greater heights. He has already achieved three solo shows, a first in the figure skating world, all of which were a huge success. If we were to compare Hanyu to a house, would it be that he didn’t move to a new house when he turned professional; rather, the house itself remains the same, but the direction the window opens and the view from it have changed?

"Well, it’s true that my fundamental personality hasn't changed at all from before I started skating to the present. I have always been inquisitive and curious, often wondering, 'What is a human being?' In that sense, it is the same house. I probably have windows facing all directions, and I probably hang blackout curtains over them. Sometimes I want to feel the morning sun coming through the east-facing window, and other times I don't want to see anything and keep all the curtains closed. I think humans, myself included, are very selfish and interesting, and sometimes we wish to be part of society, and sometimes we just want to shut ourselves away in solitude. When I'm on tour, I might close the curtains. I want to block out the noise around me, concentrate on myself, and deliver a good performance. Afterwards, I'll secretly lift the curtains to see how the audience reacts (laughs)."

In his solo performance tour "RE_PRAY" from 2023 to 2024, Hanyu himself became the protagonist of a role-playing game, blending skating performances and videos to express a world of opposites, such as success and failure, life and death, light and darkness, and game-over and continue. This unprecedented ice show struck a universal chord with audiences from all walks of life, touching their hearts. What’s next for Hanyu, who always exceeds the expectations of his fans?

“I can’t reveal the details... but I’m constantly thinking about new songs and programs. I said earlier that I haven't changed, but since I became a professional, the way I spend my time has obviously changed, and I don't have time to just sit idle anymore. This year I turn 30, and every day I reflect deeply on what I’ve worked hard for nearly 30 years and the meaning of my existence now.”

After the interview, we returned to the studio for the rest of the shoot, where we could hear Matsutoya Yumi's "Yasashisa ni Tsutsumareta Nara" playing in the background. "Open the curtains..." Perhaps now is the time to open windows in various directions and take in new input in anticipation of the next step. I tell myself that everything I see is a message.

Source: BRUTUS November 1, 2024 issue No. 1018, pg 65 Info: https://brutus.jp/magazine/issue/1018/ https://x.com/gucci_jp/status/1846128889573032006 BTS: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/_MEmG5MwL0g / https://www.youtube.com/shorts/lAnWsArkHYw