#and it's nice when more people discover your favorite song

[urween]

Bloody Lamb | Bucky Barnes x ftm!reader | english version

summary: Bucky would never have imagined that his neighbor was carrying a heavy load on his shoulders. However, he discovers scars on the latter, and thus his vision changes radically.

notes: the temporality is located in a mix of beginning and end of FATWS series; reader operated on the torso

⚠︎ warnings: strong mention/description of mutilation and scars, mention of dysphoria, traumas linked to Hydra

special thanks and credits to @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian who nicely helped me with this story's translation because it was originally written in french, my native language.

french version here

- 1 804 words - 2nd person description

You were just next-door neighbors. He knew you by sight, knew how to define your silhouette and your height, as he could do with his other neighbors. Maybe he also recognized your voice when it echoed in the common corridor, like when Mrs. Jones shouted at her cats running away on the landing. He knew you without knowing you, that fine line that separated so many things and that was not held by anything. Maybe an insistent look from you would turn the weather vane, maybe not. But he knew all his neighbors because whether he wanted to or not he retained the information that emerged from individuals. A soldier had to be able to identify his victims in a crowd. He kept marks, more or less deep cracks that interfered with his daily life. If he hadn’t been the Winter Soldier, surely his mind would never have noticed Mrs. Jones’ slight limp, the smell that came out of Larry’s every Tuesday night, or the particular timbre of your voice. But he did it with everyone, you weren’t special. It would have been special if he could recognize the shoes you wore based on the wet marks left on your soles, the habit you had of always putting your cell phone in your left pocket, or the song you’d been listening to on repeat for the past few days. Then, you would have been special. More than a neighbor on the landing, you could have been his little obsession, the main object of a tease from his friend Sam for example. But that wasn’t the case until now.

“I’m lucky to have you,” the old man murmured.

Yori Nakajima was the neighbor you got along with best. Funny, sweet, and welcoming, you immediately felt at ease with him. Brooklyn was a big city and you had only been here for a short time, so Yori had helped you get familiar with the surroundings. In exchange, you would go see him once or twice a week. You talked most of the time, he would tell you about his youth and the kindness of his late son, and sometimes he would even teach you how to play Go.

"You have more and more fans," you smiled, pointing to a bouquet in the corner of the living room.

As he had done with you, Nakajima often helped young people who were a little lost. He gave them the support they needed so that they could then explore the city on their own. Over the years, he ended up having a small reputation in the neighborhood, and many of his old friends still came to visit him.

"These are irises, my favorite," he explained to you, "a neighbor brought me some this morning."

You leaned over to the coffee table to pour yourself some more tea. The wafting scent of the flowers reached you as you let your back rest against the back of the chair again.

"I thought you had a girlfriend."

Yori chuckled as much as his great age allowed him, nodding to thank you for the tea.

"I'm quite alone, and you and the others keep me company," he confided to you before changing the subject, "but I had an idea about that."

You saw the question coming before the old man could even open his mouth again.

"No, no lovers for me Yori, I already told you," you sighed with a smile.

"You're going off on a tangent right away, who told you I was going to talk about love?” He explained to get your attention again, “I simply think it would be good for you to make friends, and the young man I'm talking about would be a great match for you."

He had been trying for two or three weeks to get you to meet new people because according to him you were too lonely. However, you had explained to him the reasons for this social distancing, he had understood, while suffering too. But he said that time always healed wounds and smoothed out the deep cracks, that you had to open yourself up to life to enjoy it. You understood that, really, but the stability you had finally managed to find couldn't be destroyed, you didn't want to have to rebuild everything.

“You two look a lot alike,” Yori’s wise voice echoed one last time, “hiding in your burrows.”

They weren't fluorescent, or noisy. They didn't attract attention, going unnoticed. Yet one glance at them and the decibels in the room exploded for you. In the past, you would never have imagined that scars could be so talkative. But they were, they proudly recounted their heavy sorrows to remind you that nothing was ever acquired. Everything could disappear overnight, everything could collapse in a fraction of a second. One wrong step, and you would fall back. The wrong person and all your efforts would be reduced to nothing. Living alone wasn't easy every day, but this way you avoided mistakes. No one could predict the reaction of a stranger, while yours was controllable. You knew what not to do, not to mention, the others didn't know it and by the time they understood it could already be too late.

Yori knew about your operation, he knew that you had two beautiful scars on your chest, but it had taken time. It had taken you time. The old man didn't know more, he guessed the darkness that you kept to yourself but he knew someone else in your case, and talking about it didn't always help. Other people knew about your trans identity, you couldn't hide it and you didn't want to anyway. But it remained there, no one went beyond that barrier.

It had also taken you time to let your other scars out in the open. But you quickly realized that no one noticed them. They weren't fluorescent or noisy to them. Hidden on your thighs, dull enough that a curious eye would simply think they were stretch marks. Who would have paid attention? For this reason, you could once again appreciate any clothing revealing these marks. You could wear a simple t-shirt or sweatshirt as pajamas with boxers, and take out the trash in this outfit. You rarely ran into anyone, and even if you did, they didn't pay attention.

However, you didn't expect to come face-to-face with your neighbor on the landing. A man – quite attractive, it had to be admitted – about your age who had a mysterious aura around him since you arrived, as well as gloves. You suspected Yori of wanting to set you up with him, that it was the famous "young man with irises". He came to see your friend very often, you had even crossed paths with them at the bar downstairs from your place the other day. Barnes, that was his name, you had read it on the mailbox next to yours. You didn't know anything more about him and it had never bothered you.

"Good evening,” your neighbor's grainy voice echoed.

You smiled at him, murmuring a polite formula in return, as the rules of society required. With your trash bag in hand, you opened the brown storage lid before throwing your waste in. You didn't expect anything else, there was nothing more to expect, you didn't know each other. So you turned around, smiling at him kindly before closing the exterior door of the building.

But he didn't move, his eyes fixed on the void that a few seconds before had been filled by your thighs. You had scars.

Overnight, you became special. He recognized your footprints, your habits, and your songs. His ears picked up without his consent the slightest noises that passed through the barrier of the walls separating you.

Bucky had seen many scars, first as an American soldier, then as the Winter Soldier. The memories had taken time to come back but those linked to Hydra had never left. Eyelids closed, he still saw those distorted smiles, those pulsing veins. He still saw all those innocents repatriated to these basements as he had been, he saw them gradually lose hope. He still saw the last traces of life leave their lively eyes, he still heard their screams. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself again lying on the camp bed that had been assigned to him. He could imagine again the thoughts that crossed his mind, the last ones seeming to belong to him. I hope they die, he said to himself at the time, regarding his future peers, I hope they never see what I see. Death was a beautiful escape from the prisons of Hydra. If he could have, he would have succumbed to it, but he had been too precious.

He had seen many scars, but never like yours. A torn face, a leg in pieces, or a dog bite were endured, not chosen.

The metal weapon that served as his arm had not been chosen by him at the start. The red star that had adorned it had been imposed on him. The arm he wore today had been chosen by him, but the wound that caused it was nothing but torture. Whether it was an accident or a voluntary act, scars had never been anything but torture in his eyes. Why inflict them on ourselves? Why cut our flesh with our own hands?

They were dull, almost completely blending into your skin, but he had seen them. They had jumped out at him.

He wasn't a nurse, much less a doctor, but he knew how to recognize these kinds of things. It wasn't a cat or some accident that had caused these marks, it was you alone. The place, the depth, the angle. It was mutilation, and he had strangely never seen that.

By dint of seeing only horrors, deaths, attacks, and more, Bucky ended up forgetting the others. Those who suffered without showing it, who cried in silence. Not everyone had an arm missing or purple skin to show their misfortunes. He had the example of Yori, but he had never noticed that in you. Unconsciously, he liked imagining a happy being living next to him, maybe you could have contaminated him? But he forgot that even the gentlest of lambs had suffered.

He wanted to get to know you, he needed to know you

images : Pinterest

dividers : @/thecutestgrotto, @/strangergraphics and @/pommecita

[afriendlygoblin]

this !!! while i'm still fighting my own gatekeeper tendencies, i do think people can just enjoy whatever they like (as long as they're not annoying about it).

sure it feels a bit exasperating when someone comes to you telling you they LOVE your favorite band but they only know half a song from TikTok but then... so what? they love what they love

and there is always more to these bands than their most famous albums! for example with Glass Animals, sure their trending songs Heat Waves, Take a Slice (just the bridge) and Two Moons are awesome and a total vibe but give a shot to Walla Walla, Space Ghost Coast to Coast, Poplar St, Life Itself (tho that one is well known already) or Tangerine

I hate how people will look at popular indie artists who had one or two songs go viral on TikTok and start making fun of anybody who listens to them. "Oh you listen to Lemon Demon, Will Wood, Jack Stauber, Glass Animals, and Mother Mother? Tsk, don't you know that is stupid TikTok neurodivergent white transmasc preteen music? It's so mid and bad you should listen to real music–" you are a pit of misery

[talkbycolor]

mushroom oasis headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; im very sensitive about mychael too, oops

Pairing; "Mychael" x GN!Reader

CW; idk alien sex (jk) / this is actually cute, dont worry

Mychael as your boyfriend.

I just know that he likes to listen to ABBA with you and dance in the mornings when making breakfast or at night before going to sleep.

He purrs at bedtime, especially if you pet his hair.

You can caress his horns, they are softer than they look but also sensitive, be delicate

After a while of relationship, he could no longer avoid the growing guilt he felt and told you about the mushrooms in the forest and the brainwashing he did to you at the beginning.

Definitely identifies with Roar's "Christmas Kids" song.

Be thankful he doesn't have an internet connection or he'd make Deez Nuts cringe jokes.

He is the perfect person for fairycore, you have already begged him to do makeup together, even though he didn't need any of that.

He likes to feel safe, silly and childish with you, having learned to take care of himself since… well, always, it was a drain on the soul. what a relief to his heart to be able to be childish with you, like a break.

He still has certain self-esteem problems, his eyes always dilate when you say nice things about him (or when he's about to jump and attack ((kiss you)))

It's not like Mychael is an uncivilized being, but you've taken the time to teach him several things on dates you've had, things that perhaps he didn't know due to his isolation from society.

You're actually a little scared of what could happen if they discover Mychael's existence, so if you live together it will be in the forest.

Sometimes he is selfish and brainwashes you when he wants more kisses or just feels too needy to let you go out with your friends.

For him there is no such thing as breaking up, he will beg you for answers and ask countless times what the problem is or what you want him to change, as a last resort he would brainwash you so that you stay by his side, even if it's like a shell.

"They were 20 and decided to end their life just like this. They went up to the 21st floor and left without saying "goodbye." I wonder if when they were flying through the air they remembered… ..I once told him if you kill yourself I'm gonna kill myself too!" Basically Mychael not being able to continue with his life alone once he meets MC, if you leave, so does he.

The first time you had sex, bro, Mychael almost had to be chained up, he acted like a spoiled kid when he tried his new favorite candy.

Mychael composes songs for MC, he will even try to get new instruments, new talents, anything to entertain his firefly and have them stay in the forest with him.

Is the kind of old-fashioned sculpted lover, don't doubt that you will look like a 60-year-old couple with 3 chickens and a dog, your wish is his command. If you can't go out to eat at an elegant restaurant, he will get a recipe book to prepare the best dishes and put candles on the table. If you don't have new clothes, he will knit what you like. If you don't like the color of the cabin, he will paint everything as many times as necessary.

Physically? Mychael will never hurt you, using guilt as manipulation is not to his liking either, he loves you too much so he will only wash your brain to have a perfect life by your side, don't worry, you are safe from the world and you will have healing caresses every night , even if it is not today, if it is not tomorrow, you will learn to need it on your own and stay at will.

Mychael is terrified of people, the opinion of the masses made him think of himself as a monster and he can't help but blurt out little comments mocking his own appearance. Being with you makes him forget what he is. Why was he surprised? Because you didn't look away.

His saliva is a little salty and something tells me that he produces goo when he is excited, trust me (delulu)

♡

[ilovejoostklein]

hii, a little request. could we get sum eurovision singer!reader with joost?? maybe after their endless flirting they end up having a one night stand in their hotel room😵‍💫 and after eurovision ends reader is caught by some fans attending joost’s concert in vancouver or they are seen attending a club together and being all cozy😫 sorry if it’s to much, feel free to decline🫶🏻

i got you! 💙

-

Little Stars

You’re Joost’s favorite girl at Eurovision

nsfw: smut, some fluff

-

The entire competition served more as an ego boost than as a popularity boost to your career. You were always an extrovert. As a child, you always got the same cliché comments that you’d either be a great lawyer or a performer, and you decided to choose the option that wouldn’t cause you to have a lifetime of boredom. It certainly helped that your parents stuck you in every extracurricular activity, dance, gymnastics, volleyball, to have an outlet for your energy and love for being the center of attention.

You’d discovered your singing talents from your father, who was an amateur singer. On weekend mornings, when the morning dew would still be on the plants, pale golden sunlight illuminating the streets of your city you’d rush down the stairs to join him when you heard the gentle strumming of his guitar with the song of the morning birds. 

You two would sing a song together, the neighbors always taking a moment to listen from the windows or their doorsteps, people walking by smiling at you or taking a moment to talk. Your parents were adamant that you were born to be on stage, your family and neighbors nicknamed you their little star. 

You first gained popularity after posting a few covers on YouTube when you were a teenager. It wasn’t much in terms of internet fame, a couple of thousand followers, and your most popular video getting a little over 100,000 views but it was surreal to you at the time. You always stuck to ballads, your voice strong and from your high stamina, you could belt out notes that lasted miles. It wasn’t until you showcased your dancing talents that your popularity seemed to ignite. 

At first, it scared you a bit, but the attention was overwhelmingly positive besides the few comments from older people in your country who damned the youth and their nerve to have fun. You realized that your singing could only take you so far, millions of other people had nice voices, but few could captivate an audience like you with your stage presence. Before you knew it, you had enough money to hire a manager and move yourself and your parents to a nicer part of town. Your name spread across parts of Europe, and you became somewhat of a celebrity, selling out small venues and playing a few festivals. 

You came from truly humble beginnings, and you suspected that was why so many audiences connected with and favored you, and a large reason why your application to Eurovision to represent your country was accepted. You were beautiful, incredibly talented, and had a larger-than-life charisma. In interviews and press conferences, it was the best thing, especially in the unique and rather tense climate of this year’s competition, but backstage was a completely different person. 

You quickly gave yourself a reputation of being a flirt. You wore skimpy, bright outfits adorned with glitter and rhinestones with every practice and rehearsal. When you weren’t about to perform, you still wore mini skirts and the tiniest top imaginable. You walked around with your body practically on full display, some parts of your skin being hardly covered with fishnets or tights. You lived up to your nickname as being a star, the other contestants hearing it from your parents, but being grown up and leaning into your sensuality you were more like Venus now, your presence scorching, bright, and exigent. 

Beside you in the sky of stars was Joost. If you had been a little star, he was the sun itself. You two had taken a liking to each other almost immediately and nearly became attached at the hip. It was far from platonic, but you found yourself amused at how you two could be able to flirt with each other so shamelessly and without constraint without doing more than hugging. 

“Hi, baby.” You greeted him in one of the lounge areas for breakfast. It became an inside joke between you to constantly use silly pet names. It was very early morning, and the sun and blue skies were hardly present. “Can I sit with you this morning?” You smiled. 

“You already know the answer, honey.” He smiled back. You loved how his smile would take up his entire face, you felt you could never get tired of looking at it. “I can’t wait to see you tonight.” 

It was the day of the rehearsal before the finale, and the nerves hadn’t quite gotten to you yet. You nodded, watching as he fixed your plate with your usual breakfast order that he picked up. It was a sweet gesture that warmed your heart, you were beyond thankful to have someone who took you into their arms the way that Joost had. 

You two sat down together at a corner table. You watched as sunlight blanketed his features. It reflected into the ridge of his nose and illuminated his eyes, you found yourself staring into them, never seeing eyes that reminded you of the crystal blue waters of the beach you grew up by.

“Your eye contact scares me.” He chuckled, the direct comment making you feel your heart drop to your feet. “It’s ok, gives me an excuse to look at you.”

“You have nice eyes.” You said, ripping a piece of your croissant that Joost had fried in the microwave, despite you asking it to be lightly warmed. “This is super cold, by the way.” You said, pushing the first piece into his mouth. 

The bread burned his tongue a bit, but he was able to ignore the pain when he felt your fingers in his mouth. He bravely ran his tongue over the pads of your fingers, sucking down gently all while keeping his eyes set on you. You were speechless for a moment, seeing and feeling his sinfully pink tongue on your fingers before you were able to pull away. 

“You drooled on me.” You looked down at your hand, seeing there were still crumbs on your fingers, and pushed them into your mouth. You watched Joost’s eyebrows raise as he stiffened in his seat, feeling himself getting far so excited so early in the morning. 

You tasted him in your mouth, the sickeningly sweet syrup from his waffles and the bitterness from his coffee. “There’s crumbs on my fingers.” You said, “You don’t lick your fingers to get food off?” 

“No,” He spoke, his tone a bit hushed, “I like to lick my fingers.” 

You blushed at his comment, always catching the innuendo but never pushing it further. The two of you sat in silence for a moment to let the tension cool, as you always did when it became too unbearable. 

“You’re the only performer who changes your outfits.” Joost was always the first to break the silence. “How short will your skirt be tonight?” 

You laughed, “Shorter than last night.” You answered, his dimples giving away his amusement. “Your outfit is one of my favorites though.” 

“Ah.” He said happily, “What do you like about it?”

“The color is nice.” You complimented, seeing in his face how much he loved the attention. “Is it hard to take off?”

He withdrew a bit, smiling knowingly but deciding to beat around the bush as you two formed a habit of doing. “Not really.” He said. “It’s very easy, I don’t need any help at all.” His answer was excruciating.

You rolled your eyes, “Well, I need a lot of help with mine.” You began, “There’s so many hooks and zippers, it’s so annoying.”

Joost hummed in absentminded agreement. You saw on the vacant expression on his face, and how he went back to eating his breakfast that you’d give him too vivid of a picture. All he could imagine now was being alone with you in the dressing room, undoing all the hooks and zippers you were talking about. He’d want to rip apart those fishnet stockings you always wore, the thought of seeing the gentle threads snap apart from his hands revealing your soft skin drove him wild. The imagery became too much eventually, and he felt a bit of shame when he saw your gentle, unknowing face across him. 

“You know you’re gonna win, right?” You said suddenly, making his expression drop into something deathly serious.

“It would be nice.” He mumbled nervously, his nerves entangling themselves together even tighter than before. “You think so?”

“No, Joost.” You glanced at the clock on your phone, realizing you’d spent too much time at breakfast. “I said I know you’re doing to win.” 

The night of the semi-final had solidified Joost’s obsession with you, but he realized he was in a long line of admirers. It was like he was in a trance, your voice like a siren’s, and the way your outfit glittered and reflected onto the bright light, it was surreal. He wanted to congratulate you after, but he saw that a crowd had already formed around you, specifically that the Croatian performer, Baby Lasagne, another favorite, had beaten him to it. 

Joost watched from afar, how you smiled constantly and looked so animated talking to him. His hands grazed your bare arm a few times, and every time it felt like it tugged on his heart in a horrible, unfamiliar sensation. It pained him a bit to know that you were known as a flirt, wondering if the way you looked at him and clung by his side meant anything at all or if it was all a part of some game. 

He saw you again walking down the hall when he felt a tap at his side. He knew it was you immediately, turning around he couldn’t help but bring you into a hug that left your feet dangling as he rambled on about how well you did. 

“Are you kidding?” You said, holding onto his neck before he set you down. “You’re fucking amazing Joost, I loved watching you.”

He scoffed, looking down at you still in your outfit, it was like he was dreaming. He yearned to keep his hands on your waist, but his better senses got the better of him, and his arms returned to his side. 

“I think everyone loved watching you more.” He began, remembering how he had to watch another man try to charm you the way he’d been for the past few days. “I don’t have people crowding me after I perform.”

You raised your eyebrows, remembering how the Croatian performer came up to you to talk you up, offering to take you for a drink and inviting him back into his room, an offer that you left to a ‘maybe’ just to keep him hanging. You saw Joost at the end of the hallway, now realizing that he didn’t just happen to be there but he was watching.

“You sound jealous.” You teased, seeing a blush begin on his face, like red wine spilling on pristine sheets. “Anyways, I’ve got to get going.”

Joost hated when you did that, knowing that you had nothing to do but sit in your room, drink obnoxiously expensive liquor, and talk about equally as obnoxious things with your friend. He wished he had it in him to ask to go back with you, but the fear of rejection always struck too hard and quickly for him to take advantage of the moment. 

The day of the finale, it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone but Joost that he’d won, and you’d been the runner-up. You didn’t have much of a competitive spirit, the experience of Eurovision alone already felt like a victory in itself. When it was announced that he’d won, you two hugged in front of what felt like a sea of cameras and you were able to sneak a kiss on his cheek before he went up on stage to be awarded. There was far too much commotion directly afterward to see him again, it was physically painful to feel him slipping away from you and realize that this, like all good things, was all finally ending.

Joost found you again in the early hours of the morning, holding flowers at your door dressed down in a simple t-shirt and jeans from his short night out to come to personally congratulate you. He noticed you weren’t at any of the after parties, and even his own which admittedly stung a bit. He had an evening flight the next day, so he could stand to lose a bit of sleep if it meant seeing you one last time. 

You answered the door in a robe, from your exposed skin it seemed like nothing else was underneath. You smiled and laughed to conceal the overwhelming feelings that filled your chest from the gesture.

“You’re so sweet, Joost.” You said as you took the small bouquet from him. “I have some champagne in my room if you want to share, it for the winner.”

Joost felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, freeing him from the torturous game you’d forced him to play as he finally was alone with you. Whether or not he’d leave with anything didn’t matter, he just wanted a moment with you that wasn’t in the halls or the lounges. 

Your room was serene and surprisingly organized, unlike his with bottles piled on the coffee table and clothes all over the couch. The lights were low, and soft music played in the background, by the look of the skincare products on the vanity it seemed that he’d interrupted your bedtime ritual. 

He watched as you poured a sparkling glass of champagne for him, clinking your glasses together before taking a sip. It was a bit sweet for his liking, but it made sense if it was coming from you. He knew you were the type to overindulge, like a child of Dionysus you lived for worldly pleasures and your enjoyment alone. He wondered if he would be a part of those pleasures if you’d fall into him like you did your other vices. 

“I’m going to spend a little bit more time here.” You said, “I’ve never been to Sweden before.” 

Joost nodded, knowing that you came from a small city and that all this travel was probably the best thing in the world for you. “I leave tomorrow.” His tone was a bit disappointed. “I would’ve liked to stay a little longer though.”

You hummed in agreement, “So,” You began, setting down the half-finished glass of your drink. “You only came to give me flowers?”

He felt his grip tighten on the delicate glass, looking down at you, he noticed that the fabric of the robe had fallen forward a bit, exposing a bit of your naked chest and body. “No.” He confessed, “Just an excuse to see you, the flowers were mine.”

“It’s rude to regift.” He hated your teasing, he hated the ever-present sensuality in your voice. “Alright, well, you saw me.”

You watched as Joost’s eyes widened at you, a desperate look on his face from how insufferable you had become. He knew that you had seen right through him this entire time, and he felt that you were now making a mockery of him. Even if he was the one with the dishonest motives, if he was the one staring down your robe, he felt that he was completely naked in front of you.

“You’re too much.” He mumbled, fumbling with the intricate buckle of his belt and swirling the champagne in his cup. “You don’t even come to my fucking party.”

You smiled at him, but not like you had been doing before, “Is that belt bothering you?” You asked before reaching over, your hands gently moving his away. “Let me help you.”

You undid his belt with a bit of a struggle, finally pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor. Joost felt his breath get caught in his throat, looking down at you as you undid the button to his jeans that now felt suffocating and pulled down the zipper. The sound of his clothing coming off echoed in his mind and made him grow rigid. He tried to relax, trying to see you for what you were, someone who was just as crazy for him as he was for you, instead of someone who had the upper hand. 

You couldn’t bear to deny yourself anymore, the tension finally snapping loose as your fingers dipped underneath the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down in one desperate, fluid motion. Joost began to step away so that he’d be able to sit down on the chair across from you, his pants and underwear pooling at his ankles as you followed shamelessly. 

You mused at his size, wrapping your hand around the base you couldn’t help but take it all in. Joost was pretty, all of him was so fucking pretty. His dick looked perfect in your hands, just big enough that you knew it would hurt and prove itself to be a challenge that you were eager to take on. His skin radiated warmth, it was softer than any other man you’d touched. You nearly salivated the longer you pumped him in your hand, drawing out soft groans before you finally took him into your mouth. 

It was as if you were a groupie how enthusiastic and sloppy you were. He watched through half-lidded eyes as you took all you could, your hands pumping at the base of what you struggled to fit. Your tongue was sinful, swirling around his shaft and sensitive tip, sucking him off so well he began to lose all rationality, wondering how crazy it would be if he asked you to be his girlfriend after all of this. 

Joost grabbed the glass of champagne and began drinking again, the rush of sweetness on his tongue paired with getting head from his new favorite girl was heavenly. His ego had completely taken over, he was a winner and deserved to feel like it. He wanted to have you for as long as he could. He didn’t want to finish like this, so he poured himself another glass and pulled your head away gently so that you’d face him. 

“Kiss it.” He said, the glass sparkling and bubbling alongside his eyes that now were drowned out by his pupils. “Look at me while you do it.”

Your body grew numb at his request, seeing him rip the control that you once had as he sat in your room, drinking your champagne with his fingers tangled in your hair telling him to kiss his dick for him. He knew you liked to put on a show, using it to his advantage he watched from above, glass to his lips before you listened. 

You felt passionate desire pour out of you as you mindlessly kissed and licked on his dick. You pressed sloppy, wet kisses all over, sucking down gently on the tip as he watched quietly, suppressing his moans and taking sips of his drink. The only sounds were coming from you, you moaned from the pleasure it gave you to be touching him, and how much you loved the feeling of your saliva and his pre cum dripping all over your face. 

Your lips were plush and greedy against him, the sight itself better than the sensation. When he’d finally had enough, he pulled you up so that you’d be sitting on his lap, your face was a bit too messy, so he took a makeup wipe from your vanity and gently cleaned your face. 

“Here,” Joost offered the last sip of champagne from his glass, “Wash your mouth.”

He pressed the cool glass to your lips and watched as you drank until there was nothing left. He finally pulled you into an impatient kiss, but it was much softer than you expected. He kissed you tenderly, his arms holding your body taut, so much that you felt his heartbeat against yours. You could tell even if this was all unintended and in the heat of the moment, the feelings you shared underneath were all genuine. 

You held his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms. You wished you could stay like that forever, but the ache in between your legs would never allow you. You lowered one hand so that you could untie the knot on your silky robe and let it fall off your shoulders. Joost felt the shift in the fabric and moved one hand up to cup your breast and squeezed down, pulling away from the kiss to look at you. 

He left a trail of kisses on your neck, sucking down on the sensitive skin before leaving a mark right below your ear so that he’d give you something to remember him properly. It was crimson, deep, and loving, you wished that he’d even left more. You loved the feeling, and you let him know with the way you squirmed in his thigh and whined with every kiss. 

As much as he enjoyed moving slowly, the time was passing by too quickly and he was animalistic in his desire to fuck you. It felt as if he’d been putting out for a lifetime, his better judgment was non-existent. He paid just enough attention to your breasts, he’d hate to neglect something so perfect, kissing them lovingly, before kissing down your stomach down to your thighs.

Joost kissed in between your thighs slowly. His lips lingered too closely to where they should’ve been teasing you to the point it felt cruel. As you watched his languid motions, how much intention and care he put into every touch, you could tell how crazy he was for you, how your flirting had driven him to this madness. Your hand ran through his hair as he continued to press soft kisses against your skin, making him look up at you with a pleading expression, 

“Can I?” He asked in a strained whisper, you blushed a bit seeing him soften so much and ask the most obvious question. 

“Please.” You could hardly speak seeing him like that, he was unrecognizable from the man you’d known before. “I’m yours.”

He wondered if you could peer into his mind into his deepest desires. Joost ate you out as his thoughts raced, somehow without the overt focus it felt so much more natural and perfect for you. He was operating on pure instinct now, his mind elsewhere, thinking ahead to when he’d get to fuck you as his mouth preoccupied itself. He moaned against you, his warm tongue lapping against your clit desperately. The sounds you made only made him more determined, so much so that he couldn’t feel the ache in his jaw and weakness in his tongue. 

His thoughts then floated to the image of when he’d make you cum. The taste of you was addicting, better than an ice-cold shot of his favorite liquor and the first cigarette out of a fresh box. The taste of you dripped down his chin like biting into an overly ripe peach, messy, sticky but inexplicably perfect. He kept your trembling thighs apart with his strong hands, like the skin of a fruit as delicate as a peach he was careful not to hurt you, but you seemed to become more beautifully vocal when his fingers would dig down into your flesh. 

“I’m close.” You mumbled, not wanting to lose your high, the feeling of your orgasm building steadily in the bottom of your stomach. “Please don’t stop Joost.”

He forced himself to listen, if time wasn’t against him he would’ve edged you to the point of tears until you would be coming undone, ripping at the seams for a well-deserved orgasm rather than one so easily given. His soft lips pressed down on your clit, sucking down gently he knew you weren’t going to last too long, but just to make sure he traced your entrance with two long fingers and  fucked your desperate, soaked pussy. 

You lost yourself in the bliss that washed over you. You’d never felt anything quite like it, it was ecstasy in its purest form. He fucked you through it, gentle whispers guiding you back to reality as you clenched and writhed against his hand to ride out your orgasm. 

“That’s it, dotje.” His voice was so delicate and comforting against the intensity that overcame your senses. “I’ve got you.”

You felt tears in your eyes from how tightly they’d been shut. Looking down as the feeling subsided into a nearly sedated, dreamy sensation you watched as Joost withdrew his hand from you. Wincing at the loss of his fingers, desperately needing something inside of you again you watched as his two fingers, completely drenched in your slick arousal went into his mouth. 

You wished you had it in you to tease him and remind him about the time you’d had breakfast together, but it was all a distant, meaningless memory now. You were entranced watching him lick his fingers clean, he stared you down as he did it, his tongue swirling around to taste every last bit of you. 

“You taste so good.” His voice too was unrecognizable, his lust for you so apparent that you found yourself feeling much more bare than just in the literal sense. “Open your mouth.”

His fingers were warm, you’d finally returned the favor and sucked down to taste yourself like he wanted. After he was satisfied, he wiped his hand against his torso carelessly, reaching into the pocket of his jeans that were tossed on the floor to pull out his wallet. He always kept condoms, although he hadn’t acclimated himself to a rock star lifestyle yet he was glad that he’d made a habit of always carrying some.

“Can I go on top?” You asked sweetly, only for him to shake his head with a smile. 

“No.” He said plainly, tearing open the holographic packaging. “I want to be romantic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Joost made you feel at ease, he was undoubtedly a special person who would always have a small piece of your heart. You wished that he didn’t make you feel so warm inside, a fling and one nightstand should’ve made you feel nothing but lust. 

Even if he had been joking, it had been romantic. He laid atop of you, kissing you just slow and deep as he fucked you. He filled you up so perfectly that you could do nothing but hold him close and moan into the never-ending kiss. You tensed a bit at first, but he was gentle, touching you sweetly to relax your body so that he could bottom you out. 

Joost lasted a bit longer than you anticipated, you even grew a bit sore from how much he stretched you out and your body soon became weighed down with a drunken feeling. The champagne had long worn off, but nothing was comparable to getting fucked by such a man who wasn’t only gorgeous, but completely on top of the world. 

It made you feel a bit shallow, wrapping your legs around him as he began to kiss your neck to give your lips a break. You tugged on the longer part of his hair possessively, eliciting a low groan from him. Just like you’d boosted his ego, he was now doing the same for you. Even if you didn’t win the competition, you’d have the person who did wrapped around your finger. 

He came inside you without any verbal warning, but his body gave him away. You felt entranced by it, the way he panted and moaned Dutch praises tangled with English ones. His cock twitched when he finished, a bit disappointed you couldn’t enjoy it fully and all you felt was the warmth. 

What followed was a bit disappointing. Your head was a wreck for the days after, thinking of how Joost left in the later morning hours after spending what was left of the night cuddling with you. Your remaining time in Sweden was beautiful with your friend, but you’d promised to fly back to Vancouver to see her family so that they could give you proper congratulations. 

You’d confided to your friend on a drunken night in Stockholm about your night with Joost, which failed to surprise her. As you lay in the living room of her parent's house, watching her nieces and nephews play and talk your ear off about Eurovision you noticed her running into the house. 

“Check your phone.” She was far too excited, making you nervously take your phone from the coffee table. “Hurry!”

You looked at her messages to see tickets to a festival, looking at the line your heart nearly sank at seeing Joost’s name. You were silent for a while, your face still and statuesque you’d unintentionally offended your friend. 

“Uh,” She began leaning down to look at you. “Do you not want to go or something?”

You shook your head, “Of course I do.” You said quietly, not wanting the kids to butt into the conversation. “I just hope I can see him, not just watch.”

You certainly got what you wanted. After watching the show, it felt like you’d been falling in love for a second time with the way he performed. You loved seeing him get to see him being himself without constraint, even if he was completely out of his element in Canada he was too charming for anyone not to like him. 

You found Joost after his show, not needing to say anything, your arms wrapping around his torso as you two stood behind the stage as the next performer went on. You realized you were still in the open for everyone to see, but even if you noticed groups of people slowing down to stare at you two you hadn’t cared.

“There are people taking pictures.” He whispered, nodding over to one of the passing groups, presumably Eurovision fans. 

You shook your head, cupping his face for what felt like the last time as the sun-kissed all his features for you. You didn’t want to do anything else but admire him for as long as you could. 

[kedsandtubesocks]

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

[pjsfvs]

- you and marks firsts

pairing: bf!mark x afab!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: this is super duper fluffy, you might die. its very cute

summary: you and mark just started dating. this is what he would take you to do while on a date, as well as your first kiss.

a/n: for my new favorite pookie jy (@stillgoldenpb) thank u for reading my mark breeding hc over 10 times. MWAH MWAH.. also sorry if u wanted smut, i was in a fluffy mood so i did mark fluff, but i can make a mark smut one-shot just incase.

First Date:

For your first date with Mark, he would take you for a ride in his Audi A6, to a nice little restaurant out of town. He had discovered it when he went for a drive and knew you would like it.

It was a small place, very few people there, and all of them were nice, and complemented you on being a cute couple. There was a jukebox in the corner, that he would queue up a bunch of songs on, many he knew you liked.

When you were done eating, he “forced” you to dance with him. Meaning he took your hand and lead you to the empty dance-floor, with a wide and enticing smile.

You danced to a couple of songs, talking and gazing into each other's eyes the whole time. When the sun began to set, you leave the restaurant and drive to a nearby peak.

You sat on the edge, legs dangling over, the beach view below you paired with the sunset. You didn’t leave until the sun had disappeared. He gave you his jacket to wear during the walk back to his car, knowing it would be a lot colder now that it was dark.

By the time you got home, it was late. He jokingly asked if you were going to invite him inside. You didn’t, but he left with a quick kiss to your cheek.

First Kiss:

Your first kiss didn’t happen on an official second date, but after you decided to meet up at the beach. He told you about his day, his training, and how much he loved singing. You told him your goals, and all the places you wanted to see.

Eventually, your conversation become more playful and joking, even more so when you found an abandoned basketball. (HE CANT PLAY FOR SHIT LMFAO)

You tossed it to each other a few times as you continued to talk and tease each other. After you caught the ball, and you teased him for having a weak throw, he began to chase you. Tackling you (softly) to the ground, you were left giggling, and he was watching you with an adoring smile.

When you locked eyes, lying in the sand, he would reach over and brush some sand off your face. Then, quicker than you were expecting, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. When he broke away, he apologized, saying he just felt the overwhelming urge to kiss you.

You smiled and told him it was alright, you felt it too. Pleased with this, he asked if he could kiss you again, to which you obviously said yes.

[boredclarinet]

GUYS GUYS IM GONNA DO TMA SONG ASSIGNMENTS AGAIN AND THIS TIME I WILL NOT RUIN MY MOOD CAUSE WE’RE DOING NOAHFINNCE (i discovered colors)

also i realize there ARE spoilers… so. spoiler warning.

EPs & SINGLES

Asthma Attack - i wanna say Danny Stoker and I don’t know why (i do but im shit at articulation. im like one of those lego characters that were marketted towrds girls and whatever i have no clue where i was going with this)

Underachiever - jon.

STUPID - S5 Jon

STUFF FROM MY BRAIN

LIFES A BIT - Tim Stoker ily. or jon ig but i like tim more.

(already did STUPID)

PITY - Melanie

MIND BLANK NO THOUGHTS - this is just the archives.

KICKIN TRASH - Gerryyyyyyyy

WEIRDOS - Okay hear me out: Jon and Daisy. not shipping. but like, in s4. their besties. monster besties. i love them.

MY BRAIN AFTER THERAPY

WORMS (In My Brain) - this is specifically for @wormpiratesblog. this is our queen worm mommy jane prentiss .

I JUST WONT CARE - Martin blackwood. like s3/s4/s5 when he just straight up gave up you know? mainly s4.

BETTER DAYS - the archives my beloved. esp like Tim when he had hope or whatever. did he ever have hope? i dunno. but before sasha died ya know? or melanie. tim and melanie ily. oh ans martin. martin fits too.

CHASING DAYLIGHT - time sasha. this is my curse.

TELL ME THAT YOUR OKAY - BASIRA AND DAISYYYYYYYYYY!!!! I LOVE MY COODEPENDENT COPS!!!! THIS IS MY FAVORITE COP SHOW!!!!

AFTER THERAPY - hear me out( again) - people giving jon statement and just having an even worse time afterwards. you get my vision? yeaaahhhh you get it.

LALALA - i just am thinking of like, the young hip avatars v the old white men. ya know?

No Point Pretending - S4 archives after the circus. theres a vision. im so smart. guys im a genius dont even doubt.

AND NOW FOR THE ALBUM!

GROWING UP ON THE INTERNET (DELUXE)

KINDA LOVE IT - martin the girlboss in S4 in the panopticon. playing peter lukas so slay. ily

3 DAY HEADACHE - S1 archives ily. just follow the loves of my life throughout the series.

I KNOW BETTER - GERRRRYYYYY!!! GERRY I LOVE YOUUUUUUU

SUBTITLES - Martin in the lonely. omgggg nooo dont be lonely i love you.

RISE AND GRIND - literally S1. its jon jusgimg tim for saying stupid shit because he cant take a joke. theres a vision. you may get it. you may not.

ALL THE SAME/NOT THE SAME - tim.

SCUMBAG - Melanie @ Elias. girly hates him and she is so real for that.

LOVELY LADIES - i love this song. its the cult of the lightless flame. or just like, all the avataes. ever. imagine an avatar party. dude that shitnwould go hard. and would probably cut the avatar population in half. theyd just kill eachother.

HEADCASE - listen man i know i keep saying the avatars and i should be more specific but im tired and brain. piss off

SICK OF BEING NICE - tim and melanie :) tim wouldve been a slaughter avatar if he didnt go 💥and i stand by that.

Anyways im tired. sorry if i did it dirty but i feel good. there wasnt as much crying as conan so… a win is a win.

what have we learned? tim and melanie wouldve been besties and loved noah.

[laststandx3]

There are many bad things about wish, but one of the most annoying is how it fails to pay off its own set ups.

It's established Asha's father believes in the magic from the stars. He died of an illness (never specified), that Asha's grandfather (her father's father) never got his wish granted in YEARS, well now to me this feels targeted.

Follow my thoughts for a minute, how easy would have been with this already established set up to add the part where it's Magnifico who killed Asha's dad because he was promoting a different kind of magic that would undermine Magnifico's power? This would've established Magnifico as an actual villain from the start, manipulating people's perception of him with magic and the lengths he would go to keep his power and crown.

This would have impacted Asha's journey as well,instead of asking Magnifico to grant her grandfather's wish immediately (which imo is a good reason for him not to hire her, she literally asks for favoritism the moment she arrives), let her instead be perfect for the position, not clumsy and awkward but make her qualified and respectful of the king's secrecy about the wishes. And still she's still not hired. And then she starts questioning him, she's studied, she's ready and it's not enough and the king seemed to like her until she mentioned her father.

And then she talks with the people of rosa about the king, if that was unfair of him maybe , but the answer is that the king is good and kind and doesn't he grants everyone's wishes, isn't that so wonderful of him? (and maybe this can be a song) and at first it sounds like she just doesn't want to accept that she wasn't chosen but after the forth person answers the same exact thing, well then this starts to feel more like a script than an original thought. Just then she looks at all the wishes Magnifico's granted so far and they're all material, it's all about people owning bigger houses, better clothes, riches, nothing is about community, knowledge, about people becoming something(musicians, teachers, scientists, artists...) . The guy that got his wish granted last year also got it granted a few years ago too, Isn't that weird? Some people never get their wishes and this guy twice? And also his wish was so selfish? He wanted a swimming pool! How in the best kingdom, with the best king, nobody wishes nice things for others? And isn't that weird that she and her friends used to make graffitis and jokes on the guards but when Sleepy gave away his wish at 18 suddenly he doesn't make jokes about Magnifico's beard anymore? He's so respectful of the rules now.

And idk maybe Asha doesn't just wish upon a star and everything is given to her. Maybe Magnifico's source of magic is Star and she frees it and that's why Star tags along. The magic of the starts was real, her father was right! Star knew her dad, he tried to save the magical pet but he was killed instead! Now it's not just about freedom and justice she wants revenge. And this is maybe when she fucks up because she was too reckless, she got discovered. Her friends/family are watching how she's getting arrested/executed for treason and that's SO UNFAIR such a cognitive dissonance it breaks Magnifico's brainwash spell.

Now a song about revolution makes sense. But singing about revolution bc they want to be able to wish? Are you kidding me? Not only the movie established that you can have new wishes and that they make you whole again, but also girl, you all read the terms of services when giving Magnifico your wish. You give it to him and if he finds it worth it, it'll be granted. Making questions about the king choices is the opposite of living under a monarchy.

Ultimately I agree with everyone who says this movie feels empty, because it's true, it's a bunch of disney trope stitched together with easter eggs that don't makes us feel anything and that contradicts its own message. The fact that disney doesn't want to make grey characters anymore it's felt. And it mirrors the way people have started to see enjoying stories as media consumption, everything that alludes to people being flawed is an endorsement of abuse. So disney's characters have all turned is these empty shells of heroine tropes. They're always bubbly, their worst flaw is being clumsy, but the worst is that they're always right. Asha's quest to free the wishes is based only on her conviction that the king is wrong in not granting everyone's wish. It's never even hinted in the movie that the subjects of rosa lack something. It's a fairy-tale kingdom in every aspect (maybe the king is a bit egocentric but that hasn't hurt anyone so far), except that her grandpa's wish wasn't granted and so the king must be wrong. If it wasn't for Magnifico's long exposition of I don't accept criticism she wouldn't have questioned him. And even then, that's what living in a kingdom means, that you follow the king's rules. I'm sorry but singing about revolution and then ending the movie still under a monarchy is just contradictory with the whole premise.

[r4d1c4lw31rd0]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 (≧▽≦) [𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐎𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞]

Experimenting with this banner thingy- Anyways this is something I decided to finish up 💪🏼💪🏼 I totally did not get this idea while listening to sad romance songs 💀 Won't be writing for a little while because I'm going through some things right now but I hope this is good enough for my fellow Venture enjoyers!

Summary: Reader has been pining for our oblivious little archaeologist for months now, and close to when they're supposed to leave they finally decide to be upfront and confess with a song!

Warnings: Nothing! It's Fluff with just a tad bit of angst! Also no use of Y/N

-----------------------------------------

You watched on in silence, not really enjoying this party. You were supposed to be performing tonight, a celebration for the Wayfinders and their success in discovering a new artifact today. You'd been briefed about it, but you hadn't been paying much attention. Your thoughts had drifted to that stupid archaeologist you'd been pining for for months now. Sloane Cameron, though commonly referred to as Venture, had captured your heart quicker than you had wanted.

Sweet, funny, energetic, passionate . . . what more could you want from a person? You didn't realize it at first, dismissing it as admiration, but when the two of you kept seeing each other, it was far to late. They'd wormed their way into your brain, and they weren't going away anytime soon. You had been invited to the dig site by a relative of yours who worked at the Petra site, and it was Sloane themself who made you feel the most welcomed.

The time you two had spent together had been . . . wonderful. They talked, quite a bit, but you didn't mind, considering yourself someone who preferred to listen instead. They didn't quite realize how sexy they looked talking so in depth about their profession and findings. It warmed your heart, and you had been caught staring quite a few times.

They showed you their favorite spots to frequent when they needed alone time, taught you about different artifacts and the history of Petra, and on more than one occasion you had fallen asleep in their tent listening to them ramble and woken up covered by their coat while they were sleeping awkwardly in their chair. For a moment, you were convinced they liked you, but you were well aware that they did nice things for everyone. It was difficult to tell if you were special or if they just treated everyone this way.

Too shy to completely come clean about your blossoming feelings, you began to drop hints. You went out of your way to hang out with them whenever they were free, always offered to take important documents to them, hell you were even extra touchy and flirtatious with them. To your disappointment, it all went over their head. Every. Single. Time.

"Thanks! You're such a great friend" was the most common response you got whenever you brought them things. Your compliments were slightly more successful, but the ones they gave were all so plainly platonic it hurt. Any innuendos you gave were taken so seriously that you had made an indent in the wall of your own tent from banging your head against it so frequently.

Your pining was so obvious to everyone else but them. Most people felt pity, and even tried to help you out. Sloane's response?

"What? No no no! They're just being friendly! Trust me, I'd be able to tell if they liked me like that!"

You thought about shaking them violently and yelling how you felt to them but even then they had a skull so thick you were pretty sure they'd find some kind of excuse not to believe you. No matter what you tried, they just didn't get it.

To cope, you turned to writing your feelings down in the form of song lyrics. Pages upon pages filled with your feelings. You practically spilled your guts on those pages, and yet nothing ever truly felt like it'd get the point across. Not until tonight. You had the perfect song to sing for them, but you weren't sure it'd smooth over well. You were due to leave the site tomorrow, and with some urging from your friend you decided tonight was the night. You'd be leaving tomorrow anyway, so if they did reject you you wouldn't have to face the embarrassment for long.

You were watching them from across room, observing them from afar. They never looked so dashing before, hair slightly more cared for compered to how messy it usually was. They wore a very clean white button up, sleeves rolled up just to their elbows. Various tattoos littered both arms, and the muscle they hid beneath all those layers was on full display. The black slacks they wore hugged their figure comfortably, suspenders with funky little designs on them attached and giving them that familiar nerdy vibe they naturally gave off. To top it all off, they had a bright yellow bow-tie on, adding to their charm.

Currently, you were watching them speak with another co-worker of theirs. She was so pretty, and certainly looked much better than you did. You thought so at least. Your arm tightened around your waist as a flush came across your cheeks. Your brows furrowed as you looked away from the two giggling lilies, downing the rest of the alcohol in your cup. This was stupid. You couldn't do this. God, what if they looked embarrassed? What if they looked at you with disgust? Hell what if they flat out rejected you in front of everyone here!? This was such a stupid plan, you didn't completely think things out.

"You're up next." You snapped out of your thoughts, looking over to your friend. He smiled at you, nudging you with his elbow. "Loosen up, you look constipated with all that frowning your doing."

You smacked his arm as the two of you chuckled, and he leaned against the wall beside you.

"Seriously though, what's got you wound up so tight?" He looked down at you, sympathy written all over him. He probably already knew, but you still wanted to confide in him anyway.

"I'm just super fucking nervous." You sighed, throwing the cup into the trashcan next to you. "What if they don't get it? Or they reject me? I don't want to embarrass them in front of all their coworkers, they'd hate me for the rest of forever and I don't think I can live with myself if that happens."

A hand rested itself on your shoulder, followed by a couple of pats. "You're overthinking for one, but you make some valid points. Whatever happens, happens. It won't be the end of the world, I can promise you that much."

"Certainly feels like it."

That got a good laugh out of him as he shook his head at your dramatics. "Whatever. It's too late to back out now. We're finna go on and you better be ready. If they don't get it now, they probably never will in all honesty."

As he walked to the back of the stage, you began to follow, casting one more glance at your crush. They were still chatting it up with their co-worker, but they were looking at you. You flushed immediately. Did they know?

Raising a cup to you, Sloane mouthed the words 'Good Luck!' and you felt the familiar sting of disappointment, Of course. They were just being a good friend. You gave them a thumbs up in response, shuffling backstage with the rest of your band mates. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself mentally for just about any outcome.

You heard the announcer begin your introduction as you stepped up onto the stage, curtains still drawn shut. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could physically feel the anxiety coursing through your veins. No going back now. It was now or never.

There was applause as the curtains began to draw back, stage light on you as you held onto the mic, looking out at the crowd. You'd performed in front of people before, but it felt so much more intense now than ever.

"GOOOOOOOOOOD EVENING LADIES, GENTS, AND PARTY PEOPLE OF ALL GENDERS!" Your voice boomed over the speakers as you announced yourself, taking the mic from the stand. There was more applause and whistles as you raised your hand to calm the crowd.

"Thank you all for allowing me to be your entertainment for tonight, it is an honor to be celebrating this accomplishment with you all. The song you're about to hear will get your body movin' and groovin', but is also directed at a special someone who has yet to catch on the vibes I'm shootin', so here's to hoping it finally penetrates their thick skull."

There was a unanimous amount of "ooos" and "aaahs", and as you gave the crowd one last glance, you could see Venture's sweet confused face.

You took a deep before you signaled for your band to start. As the guitarist started up, you faced the crowd, ready to face anything.

"Don't you notice how, I get quiet when there's no one else around?~ Me and you in awkward silence!"

Your voice rang out clear over the crowd, making direct eye contact with Sloane as you pointed at them.

"Don't you dare, look at me that way!~ I don't need reminders of how you don't feel the same!" You did your own little spin as you placed your hand on your chest, keeping your gaze locked on them.

"Oh the burning, pain~ Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate. 'She's so perfect' blah blah BLAH! Oh how I wish, you'd wake up one day! Run to me, confess your love at least just let me say-"

Your face flushed at the way their eyes widened as you stepped towards the edge of the stage with each word sung, watching as they were pushed as close to the front as they could be. There was no doubt this was for them.

"That when I talk to you, oh cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through my heart~ And I sound like a loon but don't you feel it too!? Confess, I loved you from the start~"

You couldn't tell what they were feeling, only that their cheeks were just as flushed as yours and their mouth was agape. You stepped back, continuing through with the rest of the song, occasionally making eye contact with Venture who had yet to run off with embarrassment. As you reached the end of the song, you walked towards the edge of the stage, crouching down slightly, pouring the rest of your heart out as you looked at them.

Most of the people were dancing, but Sloane continued to stare up at you, watching as you poured your heart out to them, conveying everything you've been trying to for the past months the best way you knew how.

"Confess I've loved you, just thinking of you~" you paused, letting your band mates play their short solo before finishing off the lyrics. "You know I've loved you from the start~"

You let out a shaky breath as people applauded, bowing as the curtains began to close. You immediately ran over to your friend, panicking and whispering to them.

"Did you see them!? They totally hated it oh my god this was such a bad idea. I can't face them after this!" You buried your face into your hands, trembling with anxiety as he gently rubbed your back.

"Hey now, at least give them a chance to respond yeah?" He chuckled, though continued to comfort you and hype you up.

Your stomach fluttered with anxiety as you walked off the stage, and low and behold there they were, looking around like a lost puppy, thinking they might've missed you. When they caught sight of you, you both seemed to freeze, and you weren't sure you could talk to them alone.

"We'll let the two of ya talk, yeah?" Your friend patted your back encouragingly as he and the rest of the band walked off, giving you a thumbs up.

You approached Sloane, who had yet to say anything. Both of you were flush on the face, neither one saying a word.

"So . . . Did you mean that stuff? On stage I mean . . ." Their voice was quiet, breaking the painful silence.

"Yes-" You paused, feeling like you replied a bit too fast, a bit too enthusiastically. "I mean- Yes, I did. I meant every word of it." You looked down at your feet fiddling with you hands. "I've felt that way for a while now actually . . ."

They chuckled, and for a moment you prepared yourself for rejection, tensing up.

"Sorry! I don't mean to laugh it's just-" They let out a sigh, rubbing the back of their neck. "I feel really stupid, not seeing it before."

You looked up, hope sparking up in your gaze. They smiled, hands hesitantly coming up to take you own into theirs, stopping you from wringing them anymore.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel like I didn't . . . like you too." They started of, casting their gaze to the side. "Because I do. You're really special and I enjoy hanging out with you, I just didn't want to get my hopes up-"

"Just kiss me already-" You blurted out, slapping a hand over your mouth.

Sloane laughed, looking at you with adoration. "I've made you wait long enough." They whispered, taking your hand from your face and pressing a soft, warm kiss to your lips.

You were all too eager to reciprocate, hand holding onto theirs as butterflies fluttered in your stomach, this time not from anxiety. God, this was so worth the wait. As you two parted, you felt breathless, grinning like an idiot.

"Was it how you imagned?" They joked.

"Better." You pulled them in for another kiss, wrapping your arms around their neck as you felt their hands glue themselves to your waist, pulling you right up against their body.

Kissing someone had never felt so good. All too soon it ended, and they looked at you, now with a slight frown.

"You're leaving tomorrow aren't you? Why'd you wait so long to tell me?" They sounded upset and frustrated.

Slightly embarrassed, you looked down at the floor, pulling away from them. "I tried, but you just . . ." Sighing, you paused. Blaming them was not what you wanted to do. "I . . . I was afraid you'd reject me. I mean I thought maybe there was a chance you liked me too but you were just so nice with everyone, and if you didn't like me back I didn't want to be here and have to face you everyday so today was the perfect day to do it. But, now that I know you do like me back I really wished I'd said something earlier, I feel really stupid for-"

Their hands cupped your face, stopping your anxious rambling. They made you face them, smiling softly and sympathetically.

"I get it. I do wish you had said something sooner, but we can't change that now. What matters to me is that you told me, and if you'll have me, I'd be glad to work things out with you . . ." Sloane's voice was soft, caring, everything you knew it to be. Their thumb rubbed slow, soft circles on you cheek and your own hands came up to cup the back of theirs.

"Y-Yeah . . . I'd like that."

-----------------------------------------

(Requests currently closed!)

[madwomansapologist]

forever in this twilight

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More TiefHusbands | AO3

synopsis: Peace is nothing but a concept for the unlucky tieflings refugees, a sweet dream they can never quite reach. Don't matter how much they run, fight, try: the world wasn't build for them. But somehow, in all this mess, you are the most steady thing on their lives.

warnings: zevlor, rolan x druid!tav. backgroung (arabella, kagha, alfira, volo, astarion). is it too obvious that one of my favorite books is "what we owe to each other"? that my life philosophy is "it's our duty as human beings to care for others"? my tav is a menace. she isn't even a durge. yes, she licked the dead spider. yes, she did it twice. she's just like that. is it too obvious i am the eldest daughter?

Elturel was left far behind, forever in their memories but never again able to reach their bodies, but its fires anticipated their every movements.

It made foes out of strangers, turned welcoming druids into a threatening force, transmuted safe paths until they were nothing but darkness and fear. The world turned its back against those who only asked for help, as if even the blood running through their veins was cursed.

If they were threatening, they could've understand it. If they were warriors, bandits using brute force to subdue and terrorize others. But that's so far away from the truth. There are kids. Cattle. Aspiring bards, studious wizards, naive lovers.

They have souls, goddsammit. Even when some assume they don't. They look different, are different. Does it matter? From where they are or who's blood started their lineage? Where it matters tieflings are just the same. They feel rage, happiness, pain. Have hunger, desires, needs. When a tiefling bleeds, isn't it just the same as any other being?

They shouldn't see you treating kids as kids, instead of beasts as some seemed to agree, and get impressed. Or be surprised that you would ever decide to help them on the way. Druids are supossed to understand that all living beings are just another facet of nature, yet they can only remind that you're the first in a long time to act like it.

It's maddening that you're one of the few exceptions on their path. They shouldn't feel lucky for you being nice. People are supossed to care for others. They are supossed to be nice just for the sake of it. Kindness was supossed to be a convention, not a surprise.

The world is supossed to be a lot of things, the reality is often disappointing.

It can be tiring, exhausting even, to always fight. Constantly surviving, never enjoying peace. Earning a place to exist, but never the happiness it should've bring. Zevlor won't stop trying, but he won't last forever.

He's tired. How long has it been since he started feeling like that? Gods knows it was way before Elturel fell. Leading his people, the last thing Zevlor could do was to stop. There's no one going to save them, so he better act.

Except, there was you.

Eating from the corners, you made a difference in their lifes. At the gates, protecting Arabella, saving Mirkon. You convinced Rolan to stay at camp, discovered Kagha's plans, inspired Alfira.

Your influence over their plans and fears felt too close to hope. Like that brief moment at dawn, when sunlight warms the world and yet stars keep on shining. That moment before the world start and cacophony become norm.

The way you talked like you knew they would make to Baldur's Gate, like they had no option but suceding. As if you already knew their fate.

You were everywhere. When Zevlor sees Umi running around, when Alfira writes another song, when he has time. He saw you in the repentance glowing in Kagha's eyes, on the attacks to the gates getting less usual, on his people.

Crossing Shadowlands, at the very first moment, Zevlor asked himself what you would do in his place. He followed you, even now that you were long gone. Until the moment he started to question if you were everywhere, or just on his eyes.

Were people always talking about you, or did he only paid attention when they did so?

Lost in the dark, your voice came to him. With his eyes closed, Zevlor allowed himself to wonder about the last good moment he had on his journey. His people celebrating, their heroes being salute, good wine on his cup. And you, beside Zevlor, shining on him.

"And did he," Zevlor gazed at Volo. That man didn't look like a doctor. Or someone sane enough to be allowed near sharp objects. "Got the tadpole out of you?"

"Nah. Just my eye." You took a sip from the bad wine. Astarion warned you about it. "It hurted like hell, but I must say that this new one he gave me is way better."

"You let a bard experiment with your eye?" Zevlor was still in shock about this. "A bard?"

You shrughed it off. "I got curious."

He never laughed so hard. His belly ached, his cheeks were about to fall apart, no air made to his lungs. What a wonderful thing you are. How could you made him forget about all the things going on and just laugh? A real, deep laugh.

A beacon surrounded by darkness, that's what you were.

Your presence was a antidote for some, and for others it was worse than poison. It was a reminder of what happened and what could've. A neon sign of their mistakes and regrets. Of what they could've be and what they should've.

Rolan hated that you continued to smile. That you said you were sorry when he treated you like shit. That you didn't fought him back. That you didn't tried to embarrass or humilliate him.

Or maybe he hated how you had hound dogs following you around all the time. The fact people seemed to enjoy your presence. Don't they see you were the reason why they're here? That you were the one trying to change everyone's mind? That his brothers might die and it is all your fault?

And there was also your talent to hate. The fact nature gave in to your commands. That you could control it, even when darkness seemed to want nothing but kill everyone there. That you were taught, properly.

Or how it would be so much easier if you didn't continue trying to look like someone good. If you didn't opposed the Absolute, if you haven't promised to find his siblings, if everyone else around him didn't seem to idolatred you.

Or maybe Rolan just hated that, doesn't matter how much he tried, he couldn't just hate you.

It wasn't really your fault. He knows that. Shadowland was here, and it would've affect his plans of running away faster just as easily.

But damn, he wants to hate you. It would be so much easier if he did. He wants to have something to direct his anger. Someone that he could see hurt. Someone to blame for the rest of his life.

If they die, if that ever happens, what will be of him? The death of parents is expected, a lover can be forgotten or replaced, even a child lost would hurt him less. Who could ever grown him new siblings? Who could ever replace his mirrors and opposites? They are one and the same.

Would he even be able to call himself a brother? Who lost a husband becomes a widow, who lost a parent becomes an orphan, but what do you call someone that lost a sibling?

Rolan acted as if you hadn't just sat beside him at the bar. Maybe that would make you go away. If you're denied of attention, you probably will look for someone willing to lick your boots to prove their gratitude.

Of course he was wrong.

He just didn't expect to you to not say a single thing. You didn't even looked at him. You just stayed there, drinking something that smelled horribly, until the bar closed. When it did it, you headed back to camp.

And you kept on doing this. You sat there with a drink your hands. Rolan kept on being quiet, only moving to get something else to fill his cup. Days passed, and no words were exchanged between you both.

He was the first to break the untold law shared by you. "What are trying to do, oh hero?"

You finished your beer, then looked at him. Sarcarm, wow.

"Why?" He tried again, this time less inquiring. If it was even possible.

"You look lonely," you answered. "And I need silence."

Rolan tried to think of something else to say, but no words made to his mind. "Why?"

It took you another glass to answer him. "I don't think I will make it out of here. This place is... hungry. I feel like being a bug inside a monster's belly. Nothing I do is enough."

Rolan reached for a drink on the higher shelf. Even its bottle looked like it would be enough to kill someone of drunkenness. He filled your empty glass. "Don't be stupid."

Damned be you. Now Rolan needs to find someone else to hate.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR’SGATE3TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[manatee-rp-memes]

Moomin Book Series Sentence Starters

~Feel free to tweak as needed!~

“Do you know the difference between the first love and the last? It's this: you always think the first is the last and the last is the first.”

“Ass! You haven't made a big romantic scene of reconciliation.”

"I like you, I don't want to make you feel unhappy."

"We take everything too much for granted, including each other."

"You can't ever really be free if you admire somebody too much, I know."

"I do find the behavior of the human make very strange."

"I would save your life eight times a day if only I could."

"I only want to live in peace, plant potatoes, and dream!"

"Isn't life exciting! Everything can change all of a sudden, and for no reason at all!"

"All things are so very uncertain, and that's exactly what makes me feel reassured."

"I have every respect for your deductions, but you are wrong, completely and absolutely, and without any doubt."

"I knew nothing, but believed a lot."

"The world is full of great and wonderful things for those who are ready for them."

"Every wave that dies on the beach sings a little song to a shell. But you mustn't go inside because it's a labyrinth and you may never come out."

"Making a journey by night is more wonderful than anything in the world."

"You must go on a long journey before you can really find out how wonderful home is."

"How can I be so thirsty when I've been drinking all night?"

"You seem to be yourself again. Actually, you're nicer that way."

"Somebody who eats pancakes and jam can't be so awfully dangerous."

"Stars are my favorite things. I always lie and look at them before I go to sleep and wonder who is on them and how one could get there. The sky looks so friendly with all those eyes twinkling in it!"

"I'lI have to calm down a bit. Or else I'll burst with happiness."

"It's the right evening for a tune."

"I must find out all I can about the sea. Jetties and paths and fishing are for small-minded people who don't care about the really big things."

"Life is short, the world is enormous."

"If you're not afraid, how can you really be brave?"

"One has to discover everything for oneself. And get over it alone."

"Anyway, if you're not afraid, I'm not either!"

"There's no need to imagine that you're a wondrous beauty, because that's what you are."

"There's a lot of things one can't understand... But why should everything be exactly as one is used to having it?"

"First you must turn seven times around yourself, mumbling a little and stamping your feet. Then you go backwards to a well, and turn around, and look down in it. And then, down in the water, you'll see the person you're going to marry."

"Oh, I want to dance! Couldn't we dance?"

"There's danger in the air."

"If we don't go for a picnic this very instant, anything might happen to us!"

"Do you want a little of each medicine or only one kind?"

"Don't ever again mention things I don't like to hear."

"I'm sure you can do the tango, one short step to the side and two long steps backwards."

"How nice and fluffy you are!"

"I don't understand a thing."

"You're awfully good at deceiving yourself!"

"I only wanted to run along the beach beside them, and laugh with them, they're so beautiful."

"Don't be afraid, but something terrible is happening."

"I've looked in your sea-chests, you know."

"You have to be angry sometimes. Every little creep has a right to be angry."

[xxadvictoriamxx]

a/n: lil hancock headcannons. kinda forgot about him, seeing as I was with maccready until I remembered the bobbie no-nose mission… everyone really is either so damn afraid of him or in love with him

warnings: nothing really? more just implied.. stuff.. but other than that, just fluff

• man lives on cuddles. the more cuddling you do, the better. he doesn’t really care who’s spooning the other, though. but more often than not he’ll prefer to spoon you. makes him feel like he can do something right, like he can protect you from everything that bursts into his room except for fahrenheit. he’s too scrawny for that

• he has this odd habit of randomly coming up behind you and kissing your shoulders or neck. he’ll probably stay like that for a minute or two before going back to whatever it is he was doing

• you are the most. important. thing. he wants to make sure you’re comfy around him hell even goodneighbor and will do almost anything you ask. within reason. if someone’s bothering you or making you feel uncomfortable, he’ll have someone look into it, or even himself if it’s that bad

• he loves it when you randomly come up and shower him with affection. especially when you’re in public. he likes showing off your love to anyone who’s willing or not to look

• speaking of showing off, he loves showing you off to everyone in goodneighbor! even thought they already know you, and that you two are together, it makes his chest swell with pride and he gets this cute little smug grin on his face. he landed you. the brilliant, wonderful, stunning, intelligent sole survivor

• gifts!! small or not, expect at least one gift every few days for no apparent reason. he just wants to spoil you

• in all honesty, he hates when you go away and can’t take him with. what if something happens to you? fuck, what if you die and it takes him weeks to discover what’s happened? at least take maccready if you aren’t taking him

• space heater. don’t bother bundling up, he’s got you covered. one of the many perks to being a ghoul is you’re almost never cold; a fact he’ll remind you of just to annoy you

• dates? you’re out reeking havoc. or somewhere pretty nice if you’d like, but he’ll usually take you out to stir up some trouble

• don’t worry about him giving an uh.. tours. his mind is solely on you, no matter what. you’re really all he needs to be happy. well that and mentats but hey, you’re still first

• this poor little raisin is actually pretty protective. someone’s eyeing you? he’ll pull you closer and/or start a makeout section because well, you’re his! some people just don’t get the message…

• you can usually tell when he’s down in the gutters when he isn’t touching you. hugs, kisses, doesn’t matter. they’re less frequent or just not happening. cuddle up to him, sing him your favorite song, he’ll cheer right up

• he’ll need some reassuring every once in awhile that you’re real and not just some high induced hallucination. or that your relationship isn’t just some scheme for something much larger. don’t worry, it’s usually not that difficult. just get fahr to smack him upside the head. works 99% of the time

[drivinmeinsane]

Thoughts on Lars Lindstrom as a Romantic Partner

Lars provides for you in the best way he knows how. Food is a love language for him so he is constantly bringing you little treats and snacks to keep your strength up. He also makes you the best coffee and tea you’ve ever had. 

During meals, he will gladly feed you morsels off his plate or take little bites of what you have on yours. He also rushes to cut anything that needs sliced so you don’t have to put in the extra work.

He loves cuddling with you, even just the barest contact is electric to him. The long hours spent curled up together on the couch or lying side by side in bed make his days. It’s made even more precious to him if you hold hands or share a blanket. 

One of his favorite things to do is read to you while you rest your head on his lap or lay on top of him. The weight of your body is comforting to him. It helps keep his anxiety at bay like his blanket his mother made for him.

Despite being skittish about touch, especially with people that he is not very close with, he has come to really enjoy it when you settle him on the edge of the tub and trim up his mustache for him. He also has decided that you’ll be the only one to cut his hair when it gets too long. 

Being with you has gotten him out of his shell and he’s discovered that he really likes going to thrift stores with you to look for funny mugs and nice sweaters. He likes making you laugh with some of the bizarre things he finds while the two of you browse the stores. 

While he prefers being a homebody and staying in to watch a movie or play a board game on special nights, he does enjoy going to the local bowling alley. The playful competition and the little touches as you let him adjust your stance get him delightfully flustered. 

Handmade gifts mean a lot to him. Even if it’s the smallest little doodle or the worst dollar store craft, he would cherish it because you made it with your own hands and thought of him. 

Lars likes to show off for you. He’s proud of how strong he is and is not afraid to pick you up or lift you off the ground with his hugs. He also finds it satisfying when you watch him chop logs. He makes sure to put some extra effort into each swing of the axe. 

Family is important to him. He cherishs his loved ones more than he lets on. Part of the way he shows that affection is sharing memories with you and creating new ones. The woods the lake are important places so him and he likes taking you to them and showing you all the places he and his brother played as a child.

Lars likes to sing to you. He has a song for every occasion. Rough day of work? He sings you something silly. A romantic night in? He sings softly while the two of you away in the front room.

18+ content under the cut

When it comes to sexual contact, Lars is very shy. He has a tendency to cover his face and try to smother any noises he makes. With encouragement and praise, he does open up and allow himself to be a little vocal.

Occasionally he has days where touch from another person is too much but he still wants to get off with you. Mutual masturbation is a favorite of his when he feels like this.

He likes guiding your hands over his body. It makes your touch feel less intense than if you touched him without his hand over yours.

Lars likes having clothed sex the majority of the time. Dry humping, touching through clothing, or only exposing what's necessary for the act is his preferred way to go.

Sometimes he likes it when you pretend to be a doll, still and poseable. Receptive to his advances but not able to touch or reciprocate without being moved.

{ m a s t e r l i s t}

[unique-high]

Sunscreen | Mingi x Blk Fem Reader

a/n: wrote this for myself cause I'm a little sad and in my feelings. I discovered this lovely song on Spotify called sunscreen and fell in love with it. lyrics are worked into the fic. sorry for any mistakes.

With every break-up, it always seemed like it was your fault. Your recent breakup had been no different from the rest. You felt numb when it suddenly ended. You thought of every single thing that could make your ex look like a bad person in your eyes, but he wasn't a bad person at all.

But you needed him to be.

When people ask you why it ended, you'd shrug, saying, "I don't know." because you really didn't know.

One minute he was here talking about marriage and how he would cry when you walked down the aisle. And the next he's storming through your apartment collecting his things, shoving them into his duffle bag, saying how he couldn't do this anymore. All you could do was cry and beg him not to go. He still left.

Now it's 2 am. You're in your bathroom listening to Erykah Badu while drinking warm red wine from a paper cup. You stare at your hair clippers, turning them on and then cutting your hair. It was freeing in a way you always did this after every breakup. Making you feel less light, but that numbness will still linger for about two more weeks, maybe even months.

So you move through your life without ever really thinking of your ex until something suddenly reminds you of him all over again. Like how when you hear his favorite song that you two would sing while drunk late into the night or when you run into some of his friends and you try your hardest not to ask them how he is doing.

These days were always a little harder.

After when you thought it was okay to actually move on, you get dressed up. Put on your favorite red lipstick and your favorite perfume.

The singles mixer was at a karaoke bar. You signed your name getting a sticker that read: ‘Hello, I'm Y/n’.

You smooth the sticker on to your black Chanel blouse while you order a drink. There were some people already up on stage singing some Taylor Swift song that you heard one time at the grocery store. Cruel summer.

Once you had your drink, you sit back watching everyone as they talk. Remember, you came here to have fun, and meet someone new.

From across the room, you see a guy walk in. He's awkwardly smiling, greeting anyone who walks by him. He slaps on his sticker and you squint your eyes in the dimly lit karaoke room to see his name tag. But all you could make out was ‘Min’

He slid down beside you. You pretend not to notice him. He leans towards you spooking you.

“Y/n's a cute name.” He says with a smile.

With the brim of your glass to your lips, you mutter, “Thank you.”

You glanced at his name sticker. ‘Hello, I'm Mingi.’

The host of the mixer came around encouraging those who were just sitting to get up and have fun. Mingi holds a mic for you. You stare at it before shaking your head.

“I can't really sing.” You say.

“Karaoke is not about how good you can sing. It's about having fun. Sing with me, please?”

So you take the mic. Go up on stage with Mingi. The song Mingi picked was The Black Eyed Peas My Humps. Mingi sings and dances on stage. Everyone was cheering him on. He grabs your hand getting you to dance a little. You're hesitant to sing at first but you sing having fun, but when Mingi twerks, you burst into laughter midway through the song.

You just met the guy and you couldn't help but imagine yourself with him. And it felt nice.

I want someone to remind me to wear sunscreen. And take my vitamins when it slips my mind.

You could imagine Mingi peeking his head out of your bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth as he reminds you to not forget to put on sunscreen and to take your vitamins as you're rushing about the kitchen trying to grab your tea mug, keys, and bag so you could head the door.

I want someone who knows how I like my coffee and wants to share a bed from morning to night.

Then you couldn't help but imagine him in your kitchen early in the morning, with messy brown hair and shirtless. He would know how you liked your coffee in the mornings. It would take him a week to get it right and when he does, it's worth seeing your smile and telling him he tastes like heaven. Then Saturdays would be your favorite again. Mingi would want to sleep in with you on his days off. And on the days he comes to your place late after work, sharing your bed at night with you would become his favorite thing.

“I would like to get to know you more,” Mingi says as the two of you walk off the stage. At first, you didn't know what to say, too scared that if Mingi eventually knew the real you, he'll be gone too.

But I'm stubborn. Selfish. Easily Jealous at times.

It's hard being you. Now you start to see why things never worked out with anyone else. You were just being yourself. What's a relationship when you couldn't be your true self? So what if you're stubborn? You've been that way since you were five. Selfish. Because you're the eldest daughter who had to be a parent to your younger siblings when your mother didn't feel like being a mother. Being easily Jealous comes from the time in 11th grade when your ex-best friend was far prettier than you, and got all the boys. These things made you into who you were.

I'm hard to love and I just want someone to try.

Of course, you weren't the easiest person on earth to love. But you think that came from your father. You tried your best to make your love easy, to make it comfortable for others to want to lean into. It was the opposite, though. At the end of the day, all you wanted was someone who would try. That's all you ask for.

You let Mingi in a little that night at the mixer. What could it hurt? The worst that could happen is you're crying into your pillow a couple months from now because he breaks up with you.

Ending up in your bed naked by the end of the night with Mingi wasn't supposed to happen, but it did. You'll regret it in the morning when he sneaks out while you're still asleep. So right now, while he's sleeping, you stare at him, counting how many breaths he takes.

By morning, you're a little groggy. You didn't expect to be pulled into Mingi's naked body. He's still here.

I want someone who knows that I'm not made for mornings and doesn't scold me for smoking when I drink.

Mingi doesn't try to pull you out of bed with the talk of breakfast and getting your day started early. Mornings weren't meant for you. And he somehow knew that. By the afternoon, Mingi is still at your place. He's wearing a pair of your sweat pants that go above his ankles. You make lunch for the two of you. Sometimes you like having a smoke during this time of day with a drink. Mingi isn't bothered by it. He doesn't try to scold you telling you how bad for your health it is. He doesn't know you to tell you what's good or bad for you. You liked that, though.

I want someone who can ground me when I'm too high. Light up the dark side of my head.

There were days when you floated on the surface of your mind, not really here, you functioned like you were on autopilot most days. It's been two weeks now. You knew Mingi's last name and all his favorite things. He spends nights at your place on the weekends. He noticed you weren't being yourself, he'd stroke your back, speaking to you softly. Sometimes being in your head all the time makes you depressed. Because you would find your ex still lingering there. Mingi sits and listens to you talk about your ex.

"I want to hate him, Mingi. But my heart won't let me."

Mingi kissed the top of your head. He understood what you were going through he's been here before too.

"Sometimes it takes a while for our hearts to want to let go. It's normal. You just haven't had the time to grieve for the loss of your relationship with your person."

He knew it was going to take you some time to heal and he was willing to wait to for you.

I want someone to share my coffee and sunscreen. My mornings, my stories and my bed.

Two weeks with Mingi turned into two months. He moved into your apartment. His toothbrush had a permanent spot next to yours. You had someone to share coffee with in the evenings. Sharing your sunscreen with Mingi became a daily thing.

You told Mingi all your stories from like the time you were ten and your pet cat Frankie brought you a dead mice, and how you when turned thirteen and your mom forget your birthday and tried to make it up to you by giving you a hostess chocolate cupcake she got from the gas station.

And lazy Sundays cuddled up with Mingi felt nicer than anything in the world. You liked having someone to share your bed with again. Mingi got comfortable with you in a sense he knew you better than your ex had.

Mingi tried with you.

That's all you ever wanted from someone was to try.

[lady-of-endless]

My Hero Academia and Jujutsu Kaisen matchup exchange for lovely @kaycode1999 🌹

Author's Note: I'm sorry it took a little longer but I hope you'll enjoy it!

(gifs are not mine, I'm thanking the owners)

From MHA I ship you with...

Taishiro Toyomitsu

- Your ability to get along with most people is the first thing that draws him to you. He's always friendly so of course you'll get along well from the start. Gradually, you two would become amazing friends. Although, in time, he realizes how much you brighten up his day, more than a friend ever could, and he understands what's going on. Oh...He starts thinking more about you...oh no.

- I can imagine that one day, you jumped to help him, and since then, he's been whipped. He's gone. Why? Because you did it so naturally and you were so careful with him.

- He might get worried about your pale complexion at first. The poor guy thinks you have a type of anemia and is panicking, so he starts showing up with snacks, sweets, fruits, veggies, more water, etc.

- With this, you realize how attentive he is to you and your needs. You'll be spoiled as well.

- So you're a sweetheart, you get along with everyone, you're gorgeous too, and you even surprise him with gifts randomly? He's pretty sure he doesn't deserve you.

- His love language is probably words of affirmation, never hesitating to let you know how much he cares for you. He'll also hype you and show you off.

- However, even if he likes to be more vocal when it comes to showing affection, he also loves to ruffle your hair randomly and pick you up from time to time to hear your surprised reaction.

- Loves it when you get feisty. Even if he's the extrovert, when you get like that, he'd just step back and admire you with a wide dopey grin on his face.

- He wishes he could meet your relatives one day but won't pressure you.

- Movie nights are a must. He always lets you pick the movies as long as you let him pick the snacks.

A song he has in mind for you: Adore You - Harry Styles

Runner-up: Keigo Takami - He wonders how could someone be so nice and friendly with everyone. He wants to see what's underneath all that.

..........................................................................................

From JJK I ship you with...

Nanami Kento

- From your MBTI, I can tell that you might enjoy deeper conversations and connections with people. That's something he enjoys, too, in moderation. He also likes your introverted nature as he's usually surrounded by extroverts. It's a nice change.

- Nanami might be a little bit overprotective because you're getting along with many. He is cautious of those who might want to benefit from your kindness.

- Grumpy x Sunshine all the way with you two. It's so lovely that Gojo will always tease him about it.

- He secretly enjoys seeing you get assertive with rude people.

- Even if his main love language is quality time, when Nanami goes to his favorite bakery, he always buys something for you, too.

- Is always surprised by your gifts and trinkets. In a good way, of course. He comments about how you're too nice, too kind but accepts everything with a softer expression.

- If you'd be a sorcerer too, he will want to join you on missions. Everyone knows how significant this is since he prefers working alone.

- If you'd be a non-sorcerer, he'll most likely try to keep you away from that life as much as he can without lying to you. It's going to get complicated as you discover more and more because he can't and won't stop you.

- Reading dates are your thing. You two in his apartment, both reading in silence on the couch, legs intertwined, a glass of wine or a cup of tea on the coffee table...It's his heaven.

- He sighs every time he catches himself being distracted by your blue eyes.

A song he has in mind for you: Too Sweet - Hozier

Runner-up: Gojo - You seem so sweet and also so fun. How can he stay away?

Author's Note again: I swear, the fact that they're almost all of them blonde is just a funny accident. But I guess you don't mind. I hope.

[ransprang]

thank you to anon for your support once more <3

if anyone else wants a personalized fic this is our ko-fi

Ungalo x reader hcs

How you met: Ungalo was buying beanies for himself when his eye caught your hat and he wanted to have it. His violent and sadistic nature made him consider stabbing you and taking it but he restrained himself and instead asked where you got it. You were happy to point it out. He offered you drugs as thanks but you politely declined and instead agreed to be treated to a coffee instead. You guys connected on your love for gore and decided to hang out more frequently, and eventually started dating. 

Being a bit of a tinier man, he quite enjoys the height difference. He likes looking up to talk to you. Sometimes he gets a bit lazy though and summons small characters like Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck to carry him around. If your legs get tired from walking around and discovering new places he’d summon characters for you too.

Since you like listening to stories he’ll summon any character you want to entertain you both. He especially enjoys watching shows with you and randomly summoning your favorite characters to see your reaction. He also summons dead painters and fictional animals for you.

Due to his low self-esteem and short-tempered personality he gets triggered when he thinks he sees someone checking you out and immediately picks a fight with them. Don’t worry he always wins and puts on a nice gorey show for you!

Ungalo enjoys it when you trace his generational birthmark. He feels insecure about it, he wants to match up to the legacy it upholds. He gets emotional and cries in front of you alot.

Ungalo is a very sympathetic person even if he may not show it. He does charity for prisoners because he believes he understands their motivations and that they are not bad people but just like him.

Ungalo secretly likes singing, he will learn all your favorite songs and sing them to you or even to himself while showering. It is his way of caring for you.

He would take you traveling frequently. While his stand is wreaking havoc, you and him would get on a private jet and go for a vacation on a tropical island for dates.

Ungalo wants to watch the world burn but after falling in love with you he develops a softer side because if the world never existed, neither would you <3

After learning you like art, Ungalo would attempt sketching you out wearing your cute little fits when you guys go out in nature. His drawings would be atrocious to even look at but at least he tried?