#another tag post update for anyone following along!

[daynascullys]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: double chapters when I know I shouldn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“We got a suite available, Amalia?” The man, the owner of this casino, Bucky, asks as he approaches the glass counter of the hotel lobby. You barely keep up as your surroundings smear and your head spins. Everything’s happening so fast. 

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman on the other side greets as she nears the slim monitor, “I think we should.” She glances at him, then your sister as she blathers drunkenly in his arms, “having a good night?” 

“Oh, just some friends in the city for a night,” he lies easily, “she got a bit carried away so we’ll let her sleep it off.” 

You chew your lip as you stand just behind him. Your stomach lurches as your eyes wander around the fine decor. It’s all out of your price range. Again, your brain is a beat behind.  

“Doll, would you get that?” He asks as the desk agent holds out a small folder. 

“Oh, yeah, er,” you rush up to take the room keys, “sorry.” 

“No problem, just got my hands full,” he scoffs, “Amalia, have a good night. Hopefully you don’t get anyone too rowdy.” 

“Thank you, sir, you too,” she preens after him as he heads off across the lobby. 

Once more you’re on his heels as he struts toward the elevators. You catch up to him and force the frog from your throat, “uh, sir, Bucky?” You stammer, “I don’t think... I can afford--” 

“Doll, don’t worry about all that. It's on the house,” he stops before the elevator and stares at the golden doors, “I’m not some sort of grifter. I offered, I’m not gonna squeeze ya. What’s the room number?” 

“Er, oh,” you open the little folder, “720.” 

“Right, hit the button,” he nods before him. 

“Sorry,” you cringe again. You’re so behind. It must be so obvious to him how lost you are. Maybe that’s why he noticed you. He feels bad that someone so pathetic could exist. 

You press the up button and the doors open. He nods you ahead of him and you step into the box. The walls are transparent and you can see outside along the river. He gets in and comes to stand parallel with you as you avoid looking through the glass. 

“Seven,” he says. 

You make another mousy noise and tap the button. You recoil, clutching your hands over your chest, and stare at the doors. As the elevator rises, you feel a wave of head rush, and you sway just a little. You gulp and widen your eyes. 

“Not a fan of heights?” He asks as the box stops sharply and the doors ding and open. 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

He waits for you to exit first and you eagerly do. He follows as you look back and forth between the doors, searching out the number to match the folder. 720, right at the end. You fumble and it takes three tries to swipe the card correctly.  

Finally, the door opens and you push it inward, holding it as you flatten yourself to the wall to let him through. He enters without hesitation. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to be so sure and so comfortable in a place like this. To have this be your normal.

You let go of the door and trail him further inside. The room is huge. Not just one room, but two. The front room is closed off by a pair of doors, painted white with fine spirals etched into the wood. You flit ahead of Bucky to slide them open and reveal the bedroom. He takes your sister to the bed and lays her down as she lets out a bubbly belch. 

“Sorry,” you apologise on her behalf as you hover in the door. 

“She’s her own person,” he stands back, “you need anything, call down to the desk. They’ll be happy to get you whatever. Oh, and, should probably have some water ready for the morning. She’s gonna be feeling this.” 

“Right,” you push your lip out then quickly fix your face, “thank you. I...” 

“Checkouts at eleven but I’ll tell Amalia to mark you down for a late departure,” he comes towards you slowly. 

“Oh, we won’t stay that long,” you assure him and scrape your palms together. 

“Ah, you got somewhere to be? Work? Gonna be a long day after tonight.” 

“No, I... I don’t...” your eyes drift to the wall. Again, you can’t help but admire the ivory paint and the crystal lamp and tall posts of the bed. “I don’t... have a job.” 

“Mm, tough out there,” he says, “just gotta find the right thing, huh?” 

You want to fold into nothing. This man, a millionaire at least, who owns this whole place, is telling you you’ll find something one day. Just like your mom does when you melt down over another rejection. Ugh. 

“Thanks, yeah,” you take a heavy breath. 

“You’re tired,” he surprises you as he caresses your sleeve, “I’m not gonna keep you up. You get some sleep, alright?” 

You nod and reach to scratch your neck, shifting away from his reach. He’s so much bigger than you that for a moment your stomach is crawling, as the thought occurs of how much control he really has. Not just because of who he is. 

“Good night, doll,” he purrs and brushes by you. 

You stay as you are, staring at your sister, muttering to herself. Why does she have to do this? You could be sleeping in your own bed but instead you’re here, burning in shame and pity. You turn as you hear him near the door. 

“Night,” you offer up. 

He stops and turns back, sending you a wink, “there’s a hot tub in here so... might enjoy the room at least.” 

You force a smile though your stress likely makes it more a grimace. He spins and leaves you, the door shutting with a click and releasing you to your self-reproach. You drop your head in your hands and huff. You are leaving the minute your sister wakes up. You never want to see that man again. You just pray he forgets you just as quickly as you want to forget this whole night. 

🃏

You hardly sleep. Your sister’s drunken snoring keeps you from relaxing for more than twenty minutes at a time, not to mention how unsettled you are. You hate sleeping in new places but moreso you hate that even on a night out, after all the assurance that you could just enjoy yourself, that you are once more a burden for someone else. 

You get up just after six. You rub your forehead as you go out into the front room and look over the amenities. There’s a fancy coffee maker with pods and a mini fridge with a glass door. You take out a bottle of water to leave by the bed for Roxie then return to figure out the coffee. You don’t often have any but your head is pounding. 

You sit down and sneer at the bitterness. Did you make it right? You never liked the taste so you can’t tell. You finish the cup if only for the soothing warmth. 

At seven, you get up to check on Roxie again. She’s still out like a light. Come on! You want to go. 

You rinse the mug in the sink as best you can and return it to the shelf. There’s a knock on the door. You flinch and reluctantly tread down to the hall. You peep through the hole as you fix your clothing. You push down the handle slowly to greet the woman with the cart. 

The golden embroidery on her white blouse marks her as an employee and she beams a smile in your direction. It’s too early for that amount of cheer. She has her hands on the cart, angling it towards the door. 

“Morning, miss, breakfast, complements of Mr. Barnes,” she declares, “where can I put it?” 

“Um,” you back up slowly, “inside... uh, by the table, I guess.” 

She rolls the cart in and asks if you need anything else before she leaves. You shake your head. There’s more than enough there for you and Roxie. If she can even stomach any of it. You’ve seen the way she is after her nights out. 

You sit and stare at the buffet of food before you. Fresh fruit, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs... everything and more. Just another favour to feel bad for. 

As you look over it all, you notice a note, nestled between the glasses beside the pitcher of orange juice. You take it. That must be the bill. You unfold it and read the slanted capitals hand-written across the casino-branded page. 

‘Good Morning, Doll,  

Enjoy breakfast on me. 

B. Barnes’ 

Under his name, is a sharp zigzag of the same black ink, a post script below. 

‘PS. If you’re still looking for a job, call me.’ 

You nearly drop the paper. What? You stare at the digits of his phone number and slowly lower your hand to your lap. This can’t be real. Could you really work at a casino? Would you be a dealer? Or maybe you’d be more suited to a cleaner, somewhere you can be out of the way. 

A long groan interrupts your inner turmoil. You fold the paper and tuck it away. It’s something. You’ll have to just figure out later what. 

“Coffee,” Roxie grumbles as she appears in the doorframe, gripping her skull. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you get up and go to the machine. You grab a random pod and shove it into the top. 

“Where... how’d we get here?” She sits heavily and reaches for a piece of bacon. 

“Um, you... you were really drunk so...” 

“How the hell did you get us a room? Wait. Did we win? Blackjack?” She bites into the greasy strip and moans. “Or... I didn’t sleep with that guy, did I?” 

“Erm,” you frown, thinking for a moment before you realise she must mean that Sam guy. “No...” 

You don’t explain. You don’t know how. Oh yeah, you were such a disaster that the owner noticed and didn’t kick us out. Actually, he let us stay in an overpriced suite because... you don’t know. 

“He must be loaded if he’s handing out hotel rooms,” she scoffs as she continues on in her assumption. You don’t correct her. It doesn’t matter. “Coffee,” she snaps her fingers as the grind quiets. 

You bring her the mug and she adds too many packets of sugar before she tastes it. You hide the paper in your cardigan pocket and search for your purse. You fish your watch out of it and put it around your wrist checking the time. 

“We should head out before nine,” you say. 

“Why?” She scoffs. “Ugh, what’s the bath like in this place? I could use a soak.” 

“Mom’s going to be worried.” 

“Nah, she knows I’ll get you back,” she waves you off and stands.  

She walks slowly, rubbing her temples as she sips from the cup, and examines the hotel room. She dips into the bathroom and the light flicks on. You hear her turning the faucet and shifting things around.  

You play with the zipper of your purse. You reach inside and pull out your phone. You get up to grab the key folder and enter the wifi code into your outdated model. It takes far too long to connect. You type into the search of your browser, ‘Bucky Barnes’. 

Almost at once, an image of the very man who carried Roxie into this room appears. It’s familiar. You tap it and it opens up a local news story. That makes sense. He’s younger, his hair is shorter. You remember when the casino changed hands and was renovated all those years ago. It was big news. 

Hm. Not just rich, famous, at least to a degree. It means he has a lot more going on than two disorderly girls at his casino. He’ll forget. You just hope you can too. 

Roxie comes back in a robe and put her mug on the table, “make me another. I’m gonna try those jets.” 

She spins away and you stare at her empty cup. How can she not care about anything? Does she not realise that she ruined the night? That she made a fool of both of you? No, she just sees shiny things and forgets all about her own behaviour. 

Well, you’re not like her. You don’t like being a burden or asking for things or living on someone else’s affection. You look down and feel along your pocket, the slip of paper firm through the fabric. You could clean a few hotel toilets for a buck. It’s not like you have much else going on. 

[mintraindrop]

Landoscar celebrating.

I thought these were perfect to use as a (belated) Happy New Year post.

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone on here who has been a part of my 2024. Thank you for all these memories, for late night talks, for losing our minds together over landoscar and f1 in general. Thank you for the most beautiful art and the most amazing stories I got to read. It’s been unbelievable and I can’t wait for our 2025.

art tags: @leftneb @slideleftt @oscatmeowstri @justwannabelovedbylou @fanboyoff1

if you want to be tagged whenever I post smth about my art - and writing soon - just let me know :) I'll happily put you on the list.

bonus tags to say thank you: @fairielux @notheroicnotromantic

announcement: a little update on the comic coming this week!

and a bit of an overview of my plans on here for the following weeks below the cut.

work starts again tomorrow for me so anything art related will take longer than before.

the comic is coming along nicely - tho slower than I hoped. I'll definitely keep you updated!

and there will also be a few other pieces inspired by fanfics afterwards. can't wait for you to see those. all of this might take a few more months tho.

I also had an idea for another fanfic. that's the writing part I've been teasing. anyone interested in a landoscar dancing au? might have a few headcanons for you ;) and while I do want to write this, it might only be finished by the end of the year.

that's everything from me right now. I hope you celebrated the new year well and I can't wait for what's to come next.

[strikefourth]

Fourth Strike Nov-Dec Roundup

Featuring Bandcamp Friday, a new garages goodbye album, and more!

Today is Bandcamp Friday, and we've got loads of goodies in store for you. Before we jump into it, just a reminder that today is Bandcamp Friday. All album sales today have 100% of their profits go directly to the artist (as opposed to the usual 85%). If you've got the funds and are looking to spend on some absolutely SICK tunes, consider giving some love to this month's roundup <3

And with that, let's get started:

--

The Garages announced the final installment of their We Are The Garages series, appropriately titled "we've been the garages." It's up for pre-order on Bandcamp right now, along with the first single "we stood at the precipice of total collapse, fingers intertwined, our truths settled with words we'd never speak" by Woosh, Amadis, and Bertie.

The album releases on Jan 5th, 2025, and there'll be a listen party the same day to celebrate the album.

--

2. @bardapologist's the sound engineer and editor for the new Dragon Age 2 playthrough podcast Codex Entries! We're linking Spotify and Apple Podcasts below, but you can find Codex Entries wherever you listen to podcasts. For a little extra incentive: Carly's also done the theme song!

--

3. Yuppie Supper ( @thwackamabob )'s debut album Dracunculiasis came out at the end of last month, and it's certified sick! Grab it on Bandcamp or stream wherever you stream. They've got some really cool t-shirts out too (though the shirts might be sold out by the time this post goes out.)

And if you missed the release show over in Leeds, catch a recording over on YouTube (from a weird angle):

--

4. @dynamicentropy has art commissions open right now and is looking to raise some funds! You can find xer commissions sheet below, along with examples of some of xer art.

--

5. Aren't you tired of being human? Why not be tired of being human with lAra-a ( @girltentacles )'s new track, out now on Bandcamp and streaming.

--

6. Sparkle on, it's Friday; be yourself: Julien, who you might've seen taking an electric screwdriver to a bass during THE GARAGES SIGN OFF, has some new ✨songs✨ out on Bandcamp!

--

7. Keeping up the sparkly, space-y theme here, Gabi ( @girlballz ) has pre-orders up now for faer re-release of infinite spacetime:

--

8. Last, but certainly not least, Bertie's got a new Magic: The Gathering inspired track up for pre-order over on Bandcamp. The song releases January 3rd, 2025; sign up for emails to make sure you don't miss it!

--

9. This isn't really promoting something I've made, but it was my (roundup writer)'s birthday this week, and I've been thinking some about the privilege of growing up. I've also been, and continue to be, very proud of Fourth Strike's song jam fundraiser from last year, where we raised over $1000 for the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund. Speaking as myself and not as Fourth Strike for a moment, if anyone is looking for places to donate this holiday season, I'd be moved if you chose to donate to some of the many Palestinian relief funds still looking to meet their goal.

--

This was a long one, but hey, we've been busy! Thanks for sticking around, and we hope you'll try out all our new directions. Every stream, every comment, every share means so much to us, and the enthusiasm so far has been really cool to see. We'll plug another reminder here to follow the #beyond strike four tag if you want to keep checking in!

We'll see you next month, but until then: Happy Bandcamp Friday. Consider us rounded up.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 7

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

A new day a new chapter! Today we get into the Water Prison. The real question: will Shen Qingqiu actually make it out?

No Charlie pics today, I have been abandoned at my reading/writing station, but I do have tea! Tea today is a blueberry jasmine.

Let's get into it!!!!

What the fuck?! Is this an acid lake? p89

Dang it really is crazy how after two accusations with zero evidence or proof that Shen Qingqiu actually did anything, he get's locked up in maximum security prison. p89

Right now I'm having war flashbacks from MDZS -> another protagonist out here doing their best with the rest of the world just making shit up about them for fun. RE: Little Palace mistress and her delusions of what SQQ did. She literally even says- he didnt say you did anything but I have a vibe. Like what? p91

We are gathered here today to all witness how Shen Qingqiu is once again refusing to acknowledge that he is indeed the Love Interest. Honestly, does anyone ever tell him? I live for the day the system changes his classification from villain to Love interest and actually tells him this. Idk if it happens, but now I need it to happen. Re: "what fit even less was the fact, in the original work, the Little Palace Mistress's refined iron whip had only been used for attacking love rivals" p93

Luo Binghe to the rescue!! p94 just catching that whip

Okay but when SQQ states that something is wrong with the script- is he actually on the path to understanding? or still clueless? I hope he sort of realizes what's happening, because dang this guy has 0 idea Luo Binghe would kill for him p95

OOP. "There is no need for Shizun to be so wary. If I wished to do something to you, I wouldn't need to touch you at all" p96

Re: point above about "is he understanding?" *deep sigh * SQQ has not learned at all and refuses to actively listen. He is still trying to follow the old script p.97. Okay but I do love how this guy is accidentally getting himself (in a weird way) romanced.

I honestly am pretty sure this is a dating sim XD "*to the system* Do you think we're playing a dating sim?!" p99

omg torture via demon blood is horrible. Like this is a worst nightmare, having little bugs in your organs NO THANKS. p101

I'm crying LOOOOOL two options; 1. the fake jade guanyin. 2. [Activate Small Scene Pusher] and gets his CLOTHES ripped off. Bro is now the lead in a period bodice ripper XD p102

*face palm* "Does it just take advantage of Luo Binghe's physiological disgust upon seeing a man's half-naked body?" p104. no my man, it is not disgust

oh no, giving him his outer robe made it more scandalous p104

RIP confirmed that that is the previous canon's sex robe p106

literally everyone has a feeling about what's up. Gongyi Xiao is eyeing SQQ, see's the robe and does indeed assume things about SQQ and Luo Binghe. How stupid is SQQ??? p107

Re: the note from Shang Qinghua to SQQ. Shang Qinghua is also an idiot, this guy had 1 job and that was to not fuck up the mushrooms. he goofed this exponentially. RIP those mushrooms. p109

Welp. Gongyi Xiao is realizing that Luo BInghe may not be as pure of heart as he thought p112

it's so much worse though- he really thinks that Luo Binghe assaulted SQQ and is now helping SQQ escape. p113

meanwhile SQQ is living in his own universe LOL no idea these are the assumptions. Also, IDK what's going to happen when Luo Binghe inevitably see's SQQ in Gongyi Xiao's robe. RIP GYX p115

Okay but SQQ I too would freak the fuck out if I had a walking/wake dream. Meng Mo's realm is no joke. p120-121

Dang Luo Binghe has become so strong. This dreamscape is insane. pp 124-126

again with the clothes ripping. I hope one day they enjoy this consensually. p127 (blessed be this canon for the fanfics)

in which SQQ does not realize that the fight in the dreamscape is indeed not a fight- it is most definitely foreplay. p128

I fucking KNEW IT Luo Binghe was NOT pleased with SQQ wearing Gongyi Xiao's robe. LOOOL. p130

but also I don't know what became of GYX but let's take a moment to remember him, I am sure he did not make it.

oh gosh more tragic SQQ backstory :( p132

I am glad I clocked it in the last chapter. Something was so fishy about the family that took him in and his "betrothal" my heart for SQQ :( :( :( p134

Okay get it Ning YinYing!!!! Re: her talking shit to and about Little Palace Mistress to her face! p138

yes she got slapped but still she did a pretty good job! and her sect siblings have her back.

That is it for today!!

Oh god. ofc we leave on a cliffhanger with a shady guy ready to super saiyan AND the next chapter is ominously titled "Death". I am not prepared for this!

[lunaroseblake]

Adrenaline - Zayne x Reader Fanfic Chapter 1

Tags: Drama&Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Blood, Near Death Experiences, Battle Scenes, Angst, Fluff, Love, Established Relationship, Jealous Zayne, Eventual Smut, Smut, Emotional Roller Coaster, Developing Relationships, Reader Insert, Not Cannon Compliant, Characters May Be OOC, Soo Much Drama And Angst.

Epinephrine, also known as adrenaline, is both a neurotransmitter and a hormone. It plays an important role in your body's fight-or-flight response. It's released in response to a stressful, exciting, dangerous, or threatening situations.

Summary:

Tap. Tap. Tap. His fingers drummed along the white cotton of the tablecloth beneath them. It wasn’t like you to be late, or for you to not answer your messages. The door dinged again making him glance up only to see another couple enter. He decided to call you, holding the phone to his ear after pressing dial only to be greeted with the rhythmic ringing before getting your voicemail. He frowned, his fingers tapping the screen to load up the messages to see it was still on unread.

Or~

You're in a newly established relationship with Zayne which is put to the test when an incident happens in where you rely on him more than anyone, causing a domino effect which disrupts everything you love.

Links:

AO3, Wattpad <- Up to date chapters can be found here, currently on chapter 34 if you want to continue reading there! ^-^

I'll post chapter 1 below, AO3 is always the first place I update and I'm new to posting on Tumblr, especially with writing so I'm not too sure what I'm doing ^-^; Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I love hearing what people have to day about my writing so don't hesitate to let me know thoughts etc :)

Chapter 1: Calm Before The Storm

It had been a somewhat quiet day at the hospital, not that he was complaining and not that he’d ever utter that out loud for fear of jinxing it but everything had gone smoothly, no emergencies or complicated walk-ins. It had given him some time to catch up on paperwork and read through newly published medical papers that he hadn’t managed to get to.

Leaning back in to his chair slightly he grabbed his phone as his index finger pushed his silver framed glassed back to the bridge of his nose. The faintest smile gracing his lips when he saw the pop up notification with a text from you on the lock screen. Slender fingers entered the passcode before clicking on your message. An image of your supposed ‘lunch’ came up - a stack of pancakes covered with syrup, fruit and cream with the text beneath:

Morning office work complete! Having lunch with Xavier and before you say anything, fruit is healthy! I hope you’re taking breaks too, I don’t want you falling asleep on me later.

Shortly followed with:

I can’t wait until our date tonight x

He quickly squashed down the jealousy he felt at seeing the blonde haired mans name and the fact that you were eating lunch with him. He knew that you were only work partners but still, the uncertainty lingered. He sighed, quickly ridding himself of such thoughts, his more rational side kicking in knowing that you were more than loyal. Looking back at the picture his smile was more prominent now as he shook his head in exasperation at your alleged ‘lunch.’ He quickly typed out a reply:

Looking forward to it, though you already seem to have had dessert. No fighting wanderers on a full stomach.

Locking his phone he placed it on his desk before standing and checking his watch. He had a scheduled operation due, nothing too complicated, having made sure that his evening would be free to spend it with you. As he made his way out of his office, his thoughts drifted to you. Ever since you started dating around a month ago it was hard for him to think of much else when you weren’t around him, the thought of your smile was enough to brighten his darkest days. He was slow to progress his relationship with you, even if he had harboured feelings for you for a lot longer than he was willing to admit he wanted to make sure that this was what you wanted. That he was what you wanted.

He knew that he was difficult when it came to expressing how he felt but over time you had managed to thaw his icy personality and only around you did his eyes light up with warmth. As he entered the operating theatre though he knew that he had to be at 100% attention, so anything other than doing his job was banished from his mind. He managed to complete the surgery faster than he’d anticipated which he was pleased about and as he had nothing else scheduled in for the day it meant that he had more time to sort himself out for his date with you this evening.

The restaurant that you were both meeting at wasn’t super expensive, but it was one that expected its customers to at least make some formal effort with their clothing choices. One of his colleagues had mentioned it after raving about how good their food was so he decided to try it. Apparently their head chef used to work at a Michelin star restaurant so his hopes were pretty high.

Zayne could be said that he wasn’t really one for fashion but he knew what did and didn’t flatter him, so when he got home he went to his closet, opting for black turtle neck and black dress pants. One because it was both smart and comfortable and two because he knew that you loved it when he wore a turtle neck.

He chuckled at the memory, you’d both gone out to a cafe near the hospital for a coffee when you both had a break, the table you were seated at had a few fashion magazines lingering nearby which had caught your attention when one of the models was wearing a knit jumper you liked. He’d offered to buy you one similar if he ever saw one in passing to which you’d waved him off before a grin latched itself on to your lips “We should go shopping, by which I mean I want to take you shopping” you said simply which made him raise his eyebrow “Since when do you know anything about mens fashion?” He queried causing you to roll your eyes before a slight blush began to stain your cheeks a cute hue of rosy pink “I know what I like on you” You’d murmured nearly incoherently and Zayne had a hard time straining to hear but he managed “Oh?” He teased “And what might that be?” He asked leaning forward with a smirk as he tried to catch you eye. You bit your lip slightly as you glanced his direction “You’re wearing one” you said as you pointed to the turtleneck he was wearing.

He’d found it adorable when you’d blushed and so for the rest of the time at the cafe he’d teased you with the newfound information to try and bring your blush back in which he was successful a number of times. From then on, anytime that you mentioned something that you liked he’d make a mental note of it and if he could would incorporate it in to his daily routine, whether it be from the scent of his cologne to your favourite drink, hence why tonight a turtle neck would do.

Once changed he checked himself over in the mirror, having completed the look with a more casual blazer before he checked his watch, seeing it was getting closer to the agreed upon meeting time. Grabbing his wallet and keys he knew he had just enough time to make a quick stop at a florist before making his way to the restaurant.

Having parked he made his way down the bustling street, where people were enjoying evening strolls in the warm weather or slowly making their way home from work. The sun had just dipped below the horizon turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and crimson and as the sun set more the more dark and crimson the sky became.

He paused as he glanced up at it, around him people took pictures of the sight thinking it as nothing more than another pretty sunset but for Zayne the colour was a close resemblance to the colour of blood and for a reason he couldn’t shake, it unsettled him. Being a Doctor he was more than accustomed to the sight of it to the point where it hardly phased him, but tonight the colour of the sunset had his heart beating a little bit faster and he didn’t like the feeling one bit.

Trying to put it aside he let his thoughts wander to you and what outfit you might be wearing as he continued to the restaurant, calming more as he went inside and gave his name to be led to their designated table. He was happy to see that they’d been situated in a corner, he much preferred that, it was more intimate than being in the centre with other couples or groups around you. Taking his blazer off he draped it over the back of his chair before sliding his phone out of his pocket and sitting down. He gave the menu a slight once over before ordering a bottle of wine when the waiter came, taking the liberty of ordering a red as he knew you preferred it.

Twenty minutes went by where every time he heard the door go his head snapped up in the hopes that it was you to only be disappointed to see someone else. His anxiety was growing and no matter how many times he checked his phone there were no new notifications and his message asking of an ETA was still unread.

Tap. Tap. Tap. His fingers drummed along the white cotton of the tablecloth beneath them. It wasn’t like you to be late, or for you to not answer your messages. The door dinged again making him glance up only to see another couple enter. He decided to call you, holding the phone to his ear after pressing dial only to be greeted with the rhythmic ring ring before getting your voicemail. He frowned, his fingers tapping the screen to load up the messages to see it was still on unread.

He waited, dismissing the wait staff when they came to try and take his order, saying that he was waiting for someone.

Little did he know that you weren’t coming to greet him.

[modawg]

im bored let’s dissect “alison”

firstly this is what i’m talking abt incase anyone doesn’t know:

this is so far the ONLY news we have abt this character rick hasn’t said anything about it the official pjo show insta/twitter hasn’t said anything abt it this is it

and this is a fan account which is smth i feel like many ppl don’t know; here’s that account

here are some other accounts:

both the actual along with another pretty reparable fan account both have stayed silent abt this which seems a little sus to me

you might be wondering “but mo that original pic has screenshots of interviews/articles!! they have sources!!” this is true however the source has no source lmao

from the article the original post pulls from they simply said “we’ve heard” girl heard what and from who

this article was written by nexus news point which idk abt y’all i’ve never heard of

so i took my ass to twitter

this is the only post i found “but mo it’s verified!!” that’s what i thought i thought “well shit there’s the end of that” but when i was looking at the account i realised three things

rick does not follow this account

who’s that linked in the bio? oh wait is that..is that nexus ???

anyone can pay to buy a verification

here’s the actual pjo account

followed by rick

not verified bc why would they have to when rick literally follows them

has said nothing abt this

after all this i don’t think alison is real im gonna be honest however if she does show up in season 2 i will be apologizing with tears

unlike nexus however i will be tagging my sources and will also be adding that rick hasn’t updated his website since may which is the exact opposite of what he did when he was looking for the cast of season 1

lmk y’all’s thoughts bc this is kinda wack if they just made this shit up LMAOO

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 4: first date

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

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

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

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Chapter 4: First Date

Jackson, Spring 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Semantics, sunshine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really, though, this is ok?”

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

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

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

“You ready?”

“Get on with it, cowboy.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re confused. “Joel, what man?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I’d like to head home.”

“Let me take you home, then.”

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

“Nothing to apologize for, Tommy.”

“I can get that song off the jukebox–” 

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

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

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

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

He smiles, and nods. “I know it.”

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

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

“Oh, I know you did. I could tell.” 

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

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

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

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

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

But everything about this kiss is new. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

Austin, Spring 2001

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lead the way.”

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

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

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

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

He grinned, but shook his head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well? What do you think?”

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

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

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

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

“Eat your tacos, troublemaker.”

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

You moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s get out of here, cowboy.”

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

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

“Take me home, Joel.”

“Just home?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well then, cowboy. Take me to bed.”

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

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

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

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

“You see any other cowboys here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I need to lie down first.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you dream about, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You knew it, huh?”

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

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

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

“Fuck me, Joel. I’m not waiting any longer.” He lifted his head and grinned at you. You grinned back. He reached over and grabbed a condom from your nightstand and made quick work of opening it and slipping it on. 

“Well I know better than to keep a pretty girl like you waiting.” He shifted his weight, hovering over you. You moved your hands to his hips, but he picked up your right hand with his left and laced his fingers through yours before pinning your hand to the bed above your head. You shifted into it, loving the feeling of being held in place. You traced his shoulders with your eyes, watching as his muscles moved to hold you there. He tucked your left leg around his waist, your right rising immediately to meet it. 

Then he reached down to take his cock in hand and tease along your pussy from your clit down to your hole. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Ready for me, hmm?”

You curved your hips towards him, catching the tip of his cock between your folds. “Always, Joel.”

He thrust his hips forward in response, notching the tip right at your entrance. “Christ, darlin’, this is already so fucking good.” He was watching, looking at his cock just kissing your pussy. You felt heat rushing through you, watching him look.

“Now, cowboy. Give it to me.” He met your eyes again and did exactly as you said, pushing inside, studying your face. Your mouth fell open as you felt first the head and then the rest, stretching you wider than his fingers. You watched him lick across his bottom lip as he filled you up. He was staring at your open mouth. You were panting, tongue lax, surrendering to the stretch. You watched as he let spit gather on his tongue and then slip out, falling directly from the tip of his tongue into your open mouth. You caught it on your tongue and held it there. Your eyes snapped back to meet each other’s gaze as you moaned, loud. He thrust his hips forward, filling you the rest of the way in one swift motion.

He leaned down and licked inside your mouth, running his tongue along yours as he pulled back and slammed into you again, pushing you up the bed. For a moment you were both in a frenzy, your hips crashing together as you opened your mouths wide, tongues tangling, breaths coming hot and fast.

You twisted your hips, squeezing your legs around him, and he pulled his mouth away from yours. “You are so fucking hot, you know that? I ain’t never seen anything like you, never felt anything like this.” He was breathing heavily as he sped up his thrusts, reaching around your left hip and squeezing your ass cheek in his right hand. Pulling your pussy closer with his grip. “You’re taking me so well, such a fucking good girl for me.” You gasped, tossing your head back. “Feels like this pussy was fucking made for me. Christ.”

You could barely breathe, but you managed, “It was, Joel. All yours. No– nobody else.”

“Fucking right, all mine.” He pulled almost all the way out before slamming his cock back in. He tilted his head down and nipped at your neck where it met your shoulder. “All for me.”

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.”

He growled, speeding up his thrusts. He slipped his right hand from your ass back around your hip, sliding his fingers down to your pussy again. He tapped your clit once, sharply, and you let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. It sent a piercing arousal through you that made you tighten your legs around his waist. He grinned, and did it again, before starting to work at your clit in time with the strokes of his hips. 

He licked from your collarbone to your ear, whispering, “You ready to give me that third one, baby? I want you to come on my cock.” You whimpered and nodded. “Let me have it then.” He was filling you so perfectly, you could feel your orgasm building again. “Let me see it again. Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. Show it to me, baby. Please.” He bit down on the hinge of your jaw and you felt it hit you again. You squeezed his cock, tight, clenching your pussy as you came. This time it didn’t stop, the movement of his hips and fingers just kept it going, longer than you’d ever felt before. You fell into it. “Good girl,” he grunted as you felt his hips speed up, losing his steady pace. You felt like your orgasm shifted into a new gear as you clutched at his hair and cried out. He thrust hard into you one last time and your eyes flew open, yanking his face from your neck to watch his face as he came. 

You locked eyes as you both tumbled over and came down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had in your life. You were breathing hard, breath mixing together as you stared at each other. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of your favorite half smile. “Holy shit, Joel.”

He brushed his nose slowly along yours and moved his hips forward one more time. You gasped. “I knew it’d be this good,” he murmured. “Had to be. Fucking made for me, I knew it.” You smiled softly and pressed your lips to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. He caught your lips in a gentle kiss. “Such a good girl, all for me.” Despite how you’d spent the last hour with this man, you felt your face heat a little. He kissed your cheek. 

You both took a deep breath and he pulled out slowly, catching the condom with his right hand. He moved away to dispose of it and you stretched languidly, twisting your hips. You’d never felt so content, so satisfied. 

He came back quickly, cloth in hand to clean you both up before slipping under the covers with you. He pulled you close, tucking your head onto his chest and gripping your waist firmly with his arm down your back. With the other hand he traced designs on the arm you had flung across his chest.

“I’m mighty glad I asked you out tonight, darlin’.”

You smiled into his chest. “I’m mighty glad I said yes, cowboy.” He laughed at your imitation of his accent.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You sure do.” He reached down and tapped your ass lightly in retaliation. 

“Don’t you want to be nice to me, after I was so nice to you?” 

You lifted your head to look at him, and he was grinning. You shifted your weight so your left hip rested on top of his, bringing your left hand to support your chin on his chest as you looked at him. “You and I both know you like it when I tease you.” He shook his head, but couldn’t hide his smile. 

“Well, you got me. But it just means you fit right in.” You were a little dazzled at the idea of fitting in so well with his family – you knew he meant Sarah and Tommy.

For a moment you just looked at each other. His eyes swept over you, catching on where his now soft cock rested against your hip. You felt your heartbeat begin to slow and enjoyed the feeling of Joel pressed against you everywhere. You let your eyes start to fall shut. He reached over and tapped your chin lightly. 

“I know it’s early, darlin’, but I can’t help but imagine sharing a bed with you like this all the time.” He met your eyes, a little hesitant, as he said it. 

You tilted your head into his hand and twisted your knee between his, trying to sooth him by getting closer. “It might be early in terms of how long we’ve been doing this, Joel, but we’ve been heading this way for a long time. Since we met.”

He nodded. “I know it. But I still don’t want to rush it – I want to savor every moment that gets us there.” You smiled at the acknowledgement that you were both in this with the same goal, same dream. “And it’s not just about this, you know, even though you blew my fucking mind tonight. I love watching you get to know Sarah too, and seeing how we fit together. Everywhere.”

“Me too, Joel. She’s important to me, and I want this to last.” You looked at him for a moment, and then smirked. “We can take the long way, get lost in it a little bit. Do some exploring.”

He eyed you, and you could see that he was trying not to smile. “Exploring, huh?” He moved his right hand to your lower back and pushed down firmly, moving your hips to meet his as he thrust upwards. You felt his cock stir against your hip. “Well, you just let me know what you have in mind. I’ll be ready.”

...

a/n: chapter 5 coming Sunday, 8/27 :)

a/n: ch 5 now posted!

Tag list: @morgaussy  @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe

Club playlist (all songs are on the series playlist) Ain't Goin' Down ('til the Sun Comes Up) John Deere Green My Maria I’m in a Hurry (And Don’t Know Why) (This Ain’t) No Thinkin’ Thing Man! I Feel Like a Woman! Be My Baby Tonight Daddy’s Money Shut Up and Kiss Me Fast as You God Blessed Texas What About Now Boot Scootin’ Boogie

[trek-tracks]

hi.

I just wanted to say...I ended up landing back on your blog a while ago, following an ongoing TOS hyperfixation. it was the first time I'd looked at tumblr again in ages. and I happened to stumble across a post where you had left these tags--

and that, uh, absolutely floored me. like, when I say I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone, I don't mean that anyone did anything to make me think that--it's just, when you get a head full up with depression, it's real easy to convince yourself of things like that, you know? and you can do all kinds of positive thinking exercises to try to fight it, but actually having a concrete rebuttal come along and knock the whole narrative down is something else entirely.

it's a whole thing and I don't want to traumadump on you or anything. I just, uh, wanted to say thanks, I guess. also I now have a folder full of TOS text post memes saved, so thanks for that too.

I spent the past few days debating whether or not to answer this publicly, and please let me know if you'd rather I take it down. In the end, I think it's important that a) everyone knows I think you're awesome, and b) to send the message to everyone that more people care about you than you think. (Yes, you, reading this. I don't care what your brain says. You are important to people, even if you don't know it yet.)

I had no hope or expectation you would ever see those tags, and they are honest. You were one of my early friends on Tumblr, back when I was really seeing what this platform was all about. I loved your insights, I loved your jokes, and I always enjoyed our interactions. I saw that you were having a hard time, and I was definitely worried when you left. However, I didn't want to ask you to come back to a platform that was clearly draining to you, or be another expectation in a sea of expectations. I googled you a few times for my own peace of mind, but that's as far as it got. In this online world, sometimes it's hard to show we care without feeling awkward or overbearing.

Ultimately, though, the thing about this online world is that we also never completely disappear, especially if we interact with each other. Chains of posts and responses are snapshots of friendships, ephemera preserved in time. It's sad and fond and lovely all at once. Every once in a while, that past resurfaces, and we remember. Sometimes I wish we could know when someone is thinking about us, a little pinprick of warmth we could carry around, but maybe it'd get excessive and feel like heartburn.

I want anyone who follows this blog to know--if we're mutuals, or if you show up in my notifications every once in a while (because after my initial burst of following people I've become really remiss about adding mutuals, which is only a good thing because it would mean I'd spend even more time on Tumblr), I think about you, and I hope you're doing well. You matter.

When I say that I am thrilled that you're back and recovering, Rev, I mean it with my whole whole heart. It made my week. So often we don't get to read the next chapter of our online friends' lives, and thank you so much for updating us.

[animasola86]

A few changes are coming...

Hello, dear followers of this very blog.

The title of this post says it all: I am in the middle of re-structuring a few things around here because my focus has shifted a little.

About a year ago I started this blog as a home for my Hogwarts Legacy hyperfixation, I took a deep dive into fanfiction, into oneshots, into smut essentially. I wrote so many things centered around Sebastian Sallow it's almost embarrassing in hindsight. But I am not embarrassed, I am actually quite proud of having been able to write so much, of having a muse to guide my creative (and dirty) thoughts.

It's been a real blessing.

But as you may have noticed, my focus, my fixation, has shifted, fizzled out a little.

It started when I began writing for Professor Sharp, dipping my toes into the older man/younger woman dynamic, and to be quite honest with you, I am still knee-deep (or even deeper) in that trope. It's always been a passion (a secret kink?) of mine to have an age (and size) difference between characters, so eventually I moved away from that particular character as well and focused on characters of my own.

I'm still currently writing my original story Innocence Lost over at @animasolaoriginal (about a cowboy and a girl, a slow burn love story), but the smut writer in me has yearned for something more, so I posted a few Smut Drabbles, very short little smut scenes I couldn't put into my story yet (or ever).

And from that very sentiment of having little outlets for my horribly dirty mind, grew another idea for an original story, something I'm still working on (I'm eight chapters in already), and this time I will finish it first before I post anything, I'm forcing myself to do that, yes I will (famous last words, huh? Don't quote me on that...)!

What I'm trying to say is, this blog, that has been focused around HL and Sebastian Sallow, will turn into the smut blog it has always been, but no longer featuring our beloved freckled pixel boy. I kept my smut drabbles neutral, dropped no names, no descriptions, just, well, faceless porn really, so anyone could imagine any character in the male and female characters portrayed if they wanted to.

I find freedom in doing so, being able to write anything and not put it in the confines that is writing for British characters set in the 1890s without having to put them in various AUs all the time.

And so I'll continue writing what I like, and I hope you will follow along.

I know most of you probably also follow me for my HL screenshots that have mysteriously stopped appearing as well. I still have my vast library of posted screenshots, don't worry, they will stay (everything will stay, this is just about future content), but if I ever dive back into the game (which, tbh, I haven't played in a long while, haven't even updated yet or checked out the new photomode), I will post new screenshots on a sideblog I will have yet to make.

Just to keep this blog cleaner. And smuttier.

Imagine finding my screenshots of pretty Scottish landscapes or cute Magical beasts (or broody pixel boys) and then scrolling down to find a filthy little smut drabble right under it. It just doesn't mix well anymore. (It never did, but I only realize that now, oops, sorry to everyone who probably stayed away from my blog for that very reason).

So, to wrap this up: I will remain a smut writer, if you are in need of a little erotica to spice up your day (or night), you will always find something of the sort right here.

I'm also not leaving the HL fandom, I'm still an active follower (read: lurker), and I feel like my time has come to let other people contribute to it. And if you follow the #sebastian sallow smut tag, you'll find a lot of authors that still mainly focus on him, so if you don't want to imagine him in my anonymous smut scenarios, you'll find plenty of other sources around here, don't worry!

I, for one, want to expand my horizon a little, look into other fandoms. I've read so many fanfics/oneshots centered around characters like Joel Miller (who I loved ever since playing The Last of Us for the first time), Arthur Morgan (who inspired my cowboy phase tbh) and even characters I never knew I needed in my life, like Simon "Ghost" Riley (who I didn't even know before because I never played Call of Duty), but this is tumblr, you are exposed to a lot of things if you allow them in - and it's been an absolute blast to find new things to obsess about.

So I hope that you, dear followers, can forgive me for branching out, for turning this once HL-centered blog into not just a multi-fandom blog, but a place for smut enjoyers of all types.

Because I found my calling, and it's writing porn. It is what it is.

TL;DR:

Future screenshots will find a new home in a yet to be announced sideblog.

The content will become more neutral, so that anyone can imagine anyone in the roles of the protagonists.

(I may still write for specific characters in the future, to be determined which one, maybe I'll return to write for Sebastian Sallow or Aesop Sharp one day, who knows, I still have some unfinished WIPs after all...)

There will always be smut. Because smut is life.

And with that, I thank you very much for reading this far. And I thank you for sticking around, for enjoying my content, in the past and in the future, hopefully. Thank you for your patience with me and for joining me on new adventures!

Cheers!

[rockerscentral]

ROCKERSCENTRAL MASTERPOST🎸

(A rockers-related Rhythm Heaven ask blog!)

Info can be found under the line break.

___________________

The Basics: (or the General Info)

This blog serves to be a more creative way for me to share all of the ideas that I had planned out for the Rockers, along with some other guys, mainly following a story-esque format that follows their "backstory" and how they had originally met up to become the well known rock duo they are now!

Following up on the text above, just to clarify and put it straight, the blog will not start out with the both of them right away, and will likely follow the perspective of one or the other.

While there will be art for a bunch of the asks, especially for standard posts that are needed to progress the story, I cannot guarantee that there will be something drawn for each ask, though I do wish to try and do so. That applies to whether it's a colored sketch, actual drawing, a simple doodle, etc.

Some characters may have different names than some that may be commonly used as a fan-name from the fandom, the main case of this going to Student (name being Jamie.)

This whole blog's going to be a headcanon fest, considering how a majority of this is me making shit up for the most part, so please keep that in mind if you see different portrayals for one thing or another.

Additional Notes:

If you are running another character-based blog, it is completely alright to interact with this account! Just keep in mind that this is technically taking place in the past, which means that any asks that are sent that mention anything that could be in regards to any present matters /foreshadows anything about the Rockers will likely be ignored.

While it may not be prevalent for the long run start of this blog, I do ship the Rockers together, and would probably come up at some point very later on when the time comes, so be weary of that if you don't like the ship and such.

This blog is only being run by me, myself and I ( @submaskudari ), so things might be a bit slow depending on the situation.

I will also answer asks that are out of character for those who wish to know anything from me specifically ^_^

Unless there is only one character that's available for asks, please specify who you are sending an ask towards, otherwise it may be pushed back out of confusion.

___________________

Blog Rules:

Don't be a weirdo in the asks LOL

NO METAGAMING.. I have no idea how that'd play out anyways, but this still applies :sob:

Try not to spam the ask box, or be repetitive with asks.. I'm just one guy, and sometimes it might take a moment to spot it.

Transphobia, Homophobia, Racism, Proship, and all of the other bad shit is not welcome here, so please see yourself out if you fall under said criteria.

Please be kind!! I am just a little guy, again.

___________________

Tags:

# (insert character name) + ask: Asks that are directed to said character #main art reblog: main blog posts that either feature Rockers/ Blog-related content. #refs: Simply the refs I work off of for the characters I draw here. # (insert tumblr user here): Asks sent by said user/blog. #asks: Ask posts in general. #ooc ask: Asks that are related to the blog, but are directed to the blog owner (me) rather than an ic ask for the characters. #masterpost: what do you think LOL #sillyart: probably gonna be labled under shitposts or verrry bad doodles, just goofing around! #rockerscentral: tag for chrono-order posts, asks or non asks

#djschoolcentral: april fools posts (chrono order, too)

___________________

This will be updated time from time as the blog progresses, rather it'd be for rule additions or something else. If anything, I'm probably going to add a blog Q&A for any additional questions that anyone may have, so feel free to ask!

[estrel]

For anyone else trying to Not be chronically online...

i watched a video (by lrnjulie) the other day and i'm thinking of doing some digital minimalism and only having:

tumblr

youtube

a website

from now on. here's why...

[I posted what is essentially a vid format of this on tiktok as a final goodbye if you want to watch that here instead]

i think it'd be beneficial for me as an artist to detox from being /so/ influenced by other people's styles and what other artists are doing (generally). so anyways here's why i'd keep those 3 specifically and nothing else:

tumblr - blogging with text AND images feels healthier than most social media, imo (there's twitter but i'm A. not on it and B. have only heard toxic things). like a public diary and brain dump all at once. also the ability to block tags is really nice, and i can better choose what to/what not to engage with. and bc im primarily on mobile, i can set time limits so im not on here *all* the time. i need somewhere to high post tho & most importantly, a special interest of mine is fandoms, and tumblr is THEE fandom website where I can engage w my interests. also my friend's in there (^:

youtube - i have dissociation and, along with other methods of helping with it, i think it'd be neat to document my life and put it on a platform. also another place to share my special interests in video format! and my art (:

website - my "long term project" as lrnjulie calls it. a place for my portfolio and my art/writing/creative stuff. might even incorporating blogging into here, and definitely a place to put my shop

so that's the triumvirate i'm gonna try out, at least for now. i'm not sure i'll always be off social media, but i think i need to be for at least a while for my mental health. i once took a yearlong break off tiktok and my life was so much better then, i was less in my head and went out more. so, i'm sharing in case anyone else who struggles with mental health/anxiety is wanting to do the same. maybe we can do it together? i'll keep a tag for updates if anyone is interested in my progress or following along: #detoxinitiative2024 but yeah, i figured it was worth sharing (:

thanks for reading! remember to hydrate and eat if you haven't in a while (:

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hidden Treasure 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your quiet life is interrupted by a tempestuous man. (reader is Blair from Follow You Anywhere)

Characters: Thor

Note: I'm currently in the denial and procrastination stages of schoolwork. I'm doing the readings but damn this shit is kinda complex and my brain can't function.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

There's that jeep again. 

You've never been the most observant. You tend to stick in your lane, keep your head straight, and just rush by the world around you. If you don't bother anyone, you're safe. If you don't draw attention, you can't be a problem. 

But that jeep is there again. Parked by the curb across from your building. There's a million logical explanations; a new neighbour or someone visiting family, yet it sticks out sorely in the neighbourhood. Too nice, too new.  

You let the black curtain hang straight and back up to sit at the table. You bend the lamp closer to shine on your work, fussing with the gears of an old cuckoo clock. The darn thing ticks backwards. You squint and hunch over, carefully realigning the replacement gear. 

The tiny screwdriver jams down as you jump and let out a tiny yelp. Thunder rolls around the building and a torrent of rain whips against the window pane. The storm is so sudden and unexpected that you wonder if maybe you lost track of the time. 

You refocus and redo the work, checking that you didn't do too much damage. You can't focus for the way the windows rattle and the rain pelts harder and harder. Another peel of thunder shakes you and lightning flashes around the curtain. You haven't seen a storm like this in years. Or ever. 

You get up and leave the clock unfinished. You peek around the curtain. The sky is so grey, the streetlights are on. You can hardly see more than the rain speckled abstraction of the streets below. 

Another blindly strike of lightning illuminates the world and you back away, the hair on your arms standing on edge. Loud noises always make you nervous. You retreat to the couch and pull the knitted throw from over the back. 

The shelves against the walls tremble as the storm seems to center on your building. You look around, terrified, and watch the figurines and books as they shift on the wood. Oh no. 

You get up and let the blanket fall to your feet. You grab an armful of cushions and frantically set them around the shelves to catch anything that might tumble. This can't be real! The way the whole building quakes is like a movie. 

Once you have pillows scattered all around, the air grows stagnant and silence shrouds the world. You look around, feeling rather foolish as you see your manic safeguards littered on the floor. All these things you worry so much about and why? There's always more to be found. Never enough.  

You return to the window and once more look out. You cling to the curtain as you pull it back. The sun is out again and the street is slick and shining with the aftermath of the storm. Your eyes narrow along the curb; the grey jeep is gone. You don't know if it matters but you notice it. It's just a strange coincidence.  

🕰️

The next day, you descend with a new box of good for sale. You leave most of your things in the car, covering them with a blanket against greedy eyes, but there’s no use in the up and down, back and forth. You rarely have the energy after a long day amidst the market crowds. 

You nearly drop your armful as you come in sight of your car. You blink. It can’t be real. Your mouth falls open as you slow and near the ruins of the old auto. The metal of the hood is crumpled and singed, as if it was burnt by some unearthly force. You recall the storm. 

What rotten luck that it should land on your car, of all things. It had seemed quite close and yet, you didn’t even think something like this could happen. You walk around the car and take in the breadth of the damage. What do you do? 

The windshield is cracked, a spider web in the glass, ready to shadow at the merest touch, and the left tire if flat. Even if the engine isn’t cooked, you don’t think it’s safe to drive. You hug the box in your arms and stare. 

Crying can’t help you. It never does. You don’t do that. Not since you were a child. You’ve dealt with worse anyhow. You still have a roof over your head. There’s that at least. 

Still ,you can’t hold onto that one bright side without an income. You can’t afford a rental and you don’t know anyone who would lend you a car, let alone spare a ride. You look down at the box, ready to accept defeat. 

You have to try... it’s not about being easy, it’s about getting it done. You don’t have a choice. You need what little you can make from selling your antiques. Come rain or shine, rather literally, you have to find a way. 

Your body reacts without a clear plan. You put the box down next to the rear tire. You open the back door and fling back the blanket. You sift through your crates and find what you need; the sign. You take that and your hand-written stack of cards, and put them in next to the lockbox in the box on the ground. You grab a few extra trinkets and the bag of embroidered coin purses and a few other light items. As much as you can do alone. 

You should be able to make back the bus fare, even if the journey might be a bit awkward. 

🕰️

You get to the market and realise another pitfall. You have your things and your sign and just about nothing else. As you wander to the empty space meant to be yours, the one you pay a fee for, you have only a box and yourself. You don’t know that it will attract many people. It’s hardly professional. 

As you stand on the empty patch of grass, watching other sellers set up, you contemplate the transition to an online marketplace. You tried once but never really moved any pieces. The shipping costs were enough to deter you and prospective buyers. 

You sigh and think of the wasted three bucks. Why did you come all the way down here to stand around like some weirdo? You are a bit off but this is a bit much. 

“Hey,” a voice startles you and you turn to face the plant seller. You recognise him as he’s come to buy a gift or two for his mother from time to time. He’s always talkative, always smiling. He’s a bit much. “Uh, we going minimalist?” 

You peer around and shrug, “car troubles.” 

“Hm, that’s too bad. Um, I was just making my rounds and saw you looking a bit lost. You remember me, right? Cole.” 

“Yes,” you answer sheepishly. 

“Well, we stick around. Us vendors. If you need some table space for the day, I can move the cacti over--” 

You can’t help your surprise from showing in the creases of your forehead, “really?” 

“Yeah, of course. Did I ever mention my mom loved that new lampshade? They discontinued the style ages ago and she was ecstatic. I mean come on, I sell flowers, you think she’s beaming with pride.” 

“Erm, I don’t know,” you try not to show your discomfort. He does talk so much. Beggars can’t be choosers and you’ve settled for far worse than a chatty companion. “If you don’t mind, I would be so grateful.” You rub your neck, “I... I can’t offer much but if you want a few items. Maybe for you mom—oh, I could bring you this vase I found. I can show you a picture.” 

“It’s no problem,” he steps forward and you shy away at his suddenness. He slows down and shows his palms, “woah, sorry, I was just going to grab your stuff.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to--” 

“Please, I make a habit of helping out pretty women. My pleasure,” he assures and scoops up the box of goods. 

“Mm, thanks,” you roll your tongue against the roof of your mouth, chewing on that comment. Charming but a bit unnerving. He tries just a little bit too much. 

You follow him across the row of booths and stands and around the corner to his own. He has a much better location than your own but it makes sense. Flowers sell better than used doilies. 

He puts the box down behind his table and starts to rearrange his goods. You wait until there’s a clear space and start setting out your own things. You pick out only the stuff you know will sell and prop up your sign. You leave the lock box underneath with the leftovers. 

“You mind if I go use the bathroom?” You ask Cole as he folds up his jacket and lays it over his chair. 

“Sure, I’ll keep an eye on things,” he says. “Need anything?” 

“No, no, I’m good,” you assure him and flit off. 

You head down to the brick building that houses the public restrooms. You use the solitary to collect yourself after the disaster-stricken morning. As you emerge, you wander along and pause just outside the booth selling iced drinks and hand-made tumblers. They’re all very cute but you can’t afford a cup, yet you can splurge for some of the tea. 

You chew your cheek as you consider the menu. You’re not sure what to pick. Hm, he likes flowers. 

You order two lavender lemonades and wait patiently as you count out the money. A little treat is much needed after the morning you’ve had. You claim your drinks and turn, nearly colliding with someone else. You back up and look up at the towering man. You recognise him. 

“Ah, there she is,” the man booms, “I feared you were not attending today.” 

“Oh, uh,” you furrow your brow. He’s that man who left you waiting then came back with his mother. He seems to be a regular though you’d never seen him before a few weeks back. “Hi?” 

“Thor,” he supplies, “I don’t think I introduced myself yet. And you, little treasure?” 

You hesitate before you muster an answer. Little treasure? How strange.  

“So, have you relocated?” He wonders. 

“Um, for today,” you say, his curiosity tweaking your nerves. “My car... well, I’ll figure it out.” 

“Oh, how unfortunate,” he frowns, “well, where can I find you? My mother is due soon, I believe my brother will be with her. A family day, you see?” 

“Mm, oh, I’m... down there,” you motion with the drinks, “at the flower booth.” 

“Flowers? Wonderful, mother will like those,” he grins brightly, “well, don’t let me keep you. You must have many customers waiting and those do you look delicious. Enjoy.” 

You look down at the drinks and nod. As you look back up, he’s already heading off. It isn’t very often you remember a face and his is becoming familiar. He must not have very much to do if he’s here every weekend. Who are you to speak? 

You go back to the stall as Cole speaks to some customers and wraps up two tall irises for sale. You wait to the side, hoping they might have some interest but they shuffle by with polite smiles. You do your best to smile back then turn to Cole. 

“Hey, um, I know it’s not much,” you take one of the cups and offer it, “I didn’t know if you’d like it but, lavender lemonade?” 

“Oo, is this from the Tea Time place? I’ve been dying to try it,” he perks up, “thank you so much. That’s too nice.” 

“Mm, well, you’ve done so much and you don’t have to.” 

“We all have bad days, huh?” 

“I guess,” you take your own drink and taste it. Different, but not bad. You’ll stick to your regular stuff at home though. 

You put the cup under the booth as more people approach. You have a few asking about the purses and browsing the sleepers. You sell some of the baby clothes but the purses are left unpurchased. Better than nothing. You’re all breaking even. That’s a weight off. 

Further down, you hear a deep roll like thunder. It’s that big burly blond. Thor? He’s there with the same blonde woman and a slimmer man nearly the same height but much thinner. His hair is dark where the other two are fair. 

Thor meets your eye, frightening you, and you quickly look down at your wares and arranges them. You sense his shadow coming closer as his mother continues her conversation with Cole about the amaryllis. The other man looks disinterested as he glares at Cole. 

“Mother,” the slender man sighs, “you could have a better bargain with the florist in town.” 

“Oh, hush,” she jabs him and returns to her barter. 

“Ah, yes,” Thor cuts into your intrusion, “I see you’ve got yourself set up. Oh, and you’ve made friends.” 

He glances over at Cole and you follow his gaze. You back up and fold your hands over your stomach. He turns back to you and narrows his eyes. 

“Friendly fellow, isn’t he?” 

“Mm, sure, he... he’s helpful,” you move your hand to grip your other wrist. “I don’t have too much today.” 

“Yes, I see. No jewelry? I was hoping to find some pendant for mother.” 

“Uh, no, sorry, like I said--” 

“Or a ring,” he insists. “She is a fan of jewelry. Back home... well, where we resided prior, she had so many pieces...” he smiles and exhales, his chest rising and fall, “ah, it isn’t any matter. I do like this.” He picks up the figurine of squirrel with an acorn, “it’s adorable.” He meets your eye and smiles broadly, “I like cute things.” 

You nod, unsure how to respond. You give him the price and he reaches for his wallet without pause. He pays and you stop yourself from offering to wrap it up. You don’t have your newspaper or little paper bags. 

“Thanks,” you cheep, “hope you have a good day.” 

“It’s already been lovely,” he purrs and wobbles the squirrel with a grin, “I do hope yours gets better as well.” 

[voltstone]

A YELLOW DRESS FORGOTTEN | TWDG Retelling (Remastered - 2024) MASTER CONTENT POST

Hello! (And hello again to the TWDG fandom. At least, to anyone who remembers this fic.)

I'm VoltageStone. Still a shit uploader. I'm trying, and yes, this is one of the fics that has been in the works for...way too long, but at the same time..., glad I waited for my writing to get better?

This, quite simply, is my love-letter to the games, and to my Clementine. It's the one story I've wanted to get right, time and time again.

Especially since the comics have come out. Even though I've come to the conclusion that the comics are divorced from the games, because it's only one person's Clementine (and an...interesting interpretation of her at that), the comics did pull me away from the games for a little bit there.

But now I'm back. And I do intend to get to Season 4 this time. To finish this.

It'll take time, but I do feel ready now. I really have wanted to write out my Clementine's story, and have something that I can read back on rather than whatever Skybound's doing.

And honestly? While most of this is a self-indulgence thing, and it's because I'm bleeding my heart out here...

I do want more people to write about their Clementines. Cuz like... Maybe if there's enough people doing it, writing about their experiences, and not just the character as a whole... We'd get more enrichment from TWDG as a whole.

For anyone who wants to add on or talk about this, or follow along without having to subscribe to me, this fic will have its own tag (#aydf fic). So. If you're interested in just this, that'll be the place. :D

Anyway, now, for this specific update, this is a master post like the one I did for LYCOS (Wenclair fic). This isn't marked dead dove, but it is still a very...gritty fic. And it has a lot of very heavy themes.

It's a dark fic for different reasons, but a lot of the same. AYDF is what got me into writing gore, body & psychological horror, and the like. That being said, it's...also just a different beast.

Largely because I'm building off of what's in the games, so dead dove doesn't feel as appropriate for this.

Still. Might as well make a post here about its content. Any updates I do will be linked back to this.

So, for those who read this story before, I hope you enjoy, and thanks for sticking around through the years.

To any newcomers, to TWDG or other readers from other fics, I hope you enjoy. :)

-- -- --

Walkers. Muertos. Deadheads. Lurkers... The dead which roamed, they wore many names. Monster was yet another one. Though, Clementine knew most monsters didn't decay. Their hearts still throbbed. Their eyes, still with color. The monsters, still with words to asphyxiate.  Because she was one herself: a monster with fire in her breath, and eyes that burned her own Hell. She drank for her life. She drank to forget.

A thank-you to Telltale, a love-letter to Clementine as a character, and a passion project writing out my Clementine's story. Made by my blood, sweat, tears, and probably also mucous from the tears, but it's sanitized, I promise.

AO3 | FFnet | Wattpad | Quotev | RoyalRoad

Fic Layout:

Ep1 | Between S2 & S3. Ep2-5 | S3. Ep1.5 (Interlude) | S1, Between S1 & S2, Between S2 & S3. Ep6 | Between S2 & S3, Between S3 & S4. Ep7 | Between S3 & S4, S4. Ep8-15 | S4.

General Warnings:

Catharsis, Gore, Extreme/Graphic Violence, Fights, Murder, Horror, Body Horror, Angst, Trauma, a very Cynically Religious Clementine, Raider!Clementine, TWDG retelling (aka, a lot of the dialogue and canon-events will be here, or rewritten), (some, not a lot) Sexual Content (because it's a "growing up" thing not a horny thing, I promise, …and maybe sorta a little bit of how BPD and attachment issues do things), Violentine, a lot of homoeroticism, they are touch starved, Some fairytale symbolism, Louis will be protected and grow tf up.

Mental Health:

Alcoholism, Gambling Addiction, Addiction, Withdrawal, Relapse, Suicide Attempt(s), PTSD, Guilt, Survivor's Guilt, Rehabilitation, Psychosis, Child abuse, Parentification, and how that basically fucks Clementine in the head like a lot, and then A.J too because cycles and trauma, Borderline Personality Disorder, Trauma Trauma Trauma, and you'll never guess, a Clementine who really really really needs help and at least one (1) actual breathing adult in her life.

Oh which reminds me.

Finding guidance in adults who are already very much dead, and please Clementine, would you just bury the corpse?

…okay that's verging on dead dove, but if the game (almost) has an 8-year-old eat a dude's leg, and then a bigger dude get his head smooshed by a salt lick (which tastes gross, I dunno), I think it's still safe.

In Summary:

...okay I may have written a Carver's Clementine by accident bUT it was an ACCIDENT. My hand slipped. She's not evil, just a little demented some days, and bitter on the better ones.

I am half-joking. My hand didn't slip.

She does make the comic's Clementine look like an angel, though. So. There's that.

Anyway, if it's not clear, the tldr is this is my playthrough, and thusly my canon Clementine, just with the story tailored for indulgence and narrative reasons. Cuz. …alcoholism. …and stuff.

Not a great person. Very troubled. But you know. Tis how addiction works.

Hope you enjoy. :) If you see my blood, sweat and tears stained in the writing, no you didn't.

[lyraoctaviawrites]

✨Welcome to the Into the Phantasm Masterpost✨

Okay, should probably give some context here. I post a lot about Into the Phantasm and I just wanted to make this post to… I guess advertise/explain what it is and talk about the state that the series is currently in.

What is Into the Phantasm?

Into the Phantasm is a series of five fantasy novels. It follows the journey of Sarah Taylor and her two best friends Maya Cadigan and Lillian Snow. These three all lead fairly uneventful lives, but all of that changes the moment they meet with a mysterious, hooded traveller who turns out to be not of Earth, but of another world entirely. A wondrous place that exists through the reflective surface of the silver mirror they carry with them. A world where every story, world, character, creature or concept that humans come up with is made real. An alternate dimension called The Phantasm.

Above all else, Into the Phantasm is a character driven story with a focus on the emotional journeys and mental health of not just the main cast, but a good majority of the side characters as well. It is a MASSIVE series with a huge world and expansive lore. So much so that I couldn’t fit it all into the main series. There will be side stories releasing both alongside the main five parts and after they’ve all released. Into the Phantasm has so many different tales to tell over the course of its vast, continuous narrative that only becomes more beautiful and devastating as it goes along… Seriously, get used to book 1 and 2 while they’re there, I don’t fuck around with the later books. :3

ITP also has a focus on inclusivity, especially for an LGBTQIA+ audience. It features gay and lesbian characters, trans characters, ace/aro characters, etc. Also, as a neurodivergent writer, I wanted to include autism, ADHD, OCD, personality disorder, etc, representation as well. Above all, Into the Phantasm is a safe space. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t make mistakes. If you decide to read the series and spot something that’s harmful in any way to anyone, please let me know so I can change it. I don’t want that shit in there. Is bad and stinky.

Another thing I should probably add is that I don’t recommend ITP to a younger audience. The whole series, but especially books 3, 4 and 5 delve into some pretty mature themes. Trigger warnings have been included in the descriptions of each book, and if there’s anything triggering I didn’t mention, again, let me know so I can add it on.

Into the Phantasm will be releasing for absolutely free on Wattpad but depending on how things go, might not be there permanently. They’ll be there for a good long while, but will be removed once I have enough impressions and am able to get the books monetised. This will be announced if and when it happens.

If you think this series sounds interesting, I’d recommend following me, following the Into the Phantasm tag and keeping up with this post to see any and all updates.

Geez this section was long…

Updates on the current state of the series:

The first three chapters are DONE and are available to read!

You can access them here

17/20 book 1 chapters are currently rewritten

My plans for the series

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 18

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

New chapter, new cup, and back on my tea drinking! Today is another past year ren faire hand made cup with a Blueberry Jasmine tea.

This is present me rn - having finished this chapter- I WAS NOT PREPARED WHAT THE FUCK; what a goddamn jump scare of a read! D:

let's get ready for the notes journey so you can see me descend into a cacophony of sound:

Okay the visitor from last chapter was not Luo Binghe, and I really thought it might have been- it is in fact Liu Qingge! p159

Where is Luo Binghe though?? p159

Side note: unrelated, but a little bit related- adjacently related if you will - to the plot -> Big Same Shen Qingqiu! When I see a fan I too have to give that baby a firm crack! p159

Also real as fuck. LQQ: "what's up with you and Luo BInghe?" SQQ: I don't really know, but here we are LOL" p160

What did Liu Qingge see in the room that made him trip up/pause??? (I am sure we will find out later but still what the heck) p162

I'm crying at the strike out over here "His current attire and appearance was exactly identical to the Luo Binghe from before the Immortal Alliance Conference: the model of flawless and pure disciple of a major sect, the image of a pretty, diligent, and competent young wife, it really...really...was..." p162

Why am I so suspicious about the breakfast service Luo Binghe has for SQQ. p163

I love how the two of them in disguise in this very obvious trap of basically every powerful cultivator and sect is Luo Binghe changing his facial expression and SQQ being like "well I've been away for a while they will never recognize me" stealth check natural 1 for sure for sure p168

ewwww. anything to do with Old Palace Master. I really hate this guy, this story is so fucked. honestly poor Luo Binghe rn. pp171-172

oooo! New quest from the system: Raising Righteous Image Points! p176

more me appointed points to my 'SQQ is the damsel/love interest narrative', "In conclusion: So the female lead's role was going to be Shen Qingqiu again, huh?" p177

THANK YOU! This guy is the only one talking sense. Tianlang-jun really did nothing to start this whole war. He was only tricked and then essentially had the shit absolutely beat out of him. I dont even think the rumour he was going to wreak havoc and kill a bunch of humans was true- probably made up by butt hurt Old Palace Master. p181

ugh. Poor LBG having to hear all these people talk about his parents, their story, and how his mom hated him so much she tried to abort him. what the fuck, that's enough to mess anyone up quite badly. pp181-183

LBH: SQQ: my heart!!! pp 186-187

OFC LBH would be blamed mid Menty-B for the random demons being present. p189

Also so valid! the sects really are using the same tricks they used on Tianlang-jun. You know what, i'm really starting to stand with these demons - they have been done so dirty! p190

Hell yeah Yu Qingyuan stepping in! p191

Everyone here wants an explanation- how tf are they going to explain any of this tho LOL p195

Oh fuck, oh fuck! He hit zero points! p196

wait...alternate punishment? p197

Oh dang, he really just collapsed p197

AH! What's happening in the dream punishment. Is the punishment SQQ having to live with the original novel Luo BInghe and forever pining for him LOL? pp 198-199

Oh shit. Luo Binghe is totally figuring out that Shen Qingqiu is not his original Shizun p201

HE TORE HIS ARM OFF?! P202

MORE LIMB RIPPING P203

WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!!

THIS IS WILD.

What a horrible punishment OMG.