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stusbunker · 7 months ago

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Spotless: Arpeggio

Chapter Twenty

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Bobby/Annie, Pam/Lee, OFC Gibson, Ash, Benny, Cesar/Jesse, Kevin, Cas, and Charlie

Word Count: 4031

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, recreational drug use, surprise birthday guests, Dean being a giant kid, actually it's everyone, more history and an uh-oh, unbeta'd

A/N: You know how you outline bullet points that you need covered in a chapter and then you write all day long and forget one of the biggest ones until literally the last sentence? Yeah, me neither.

Anyway, I can't believe we are TWENTY whole chapters into this beast. Thank you all, so SO much for hanging around. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean’s morning began with a blow horn blast compliments of Sam, who then received a bitch slap from his very frightened and at odds older brother.

“Rise and shine, jerk. It’s the last year of your thirties!”

Dean groaned and buried his head beneath the pillows, poorly hiding from anymore horns. “Hephha waaff to wff agy hpp birfay”

“WHAT?! I can’t hear you?!”

Dean flipped Sam off and rolled over. “Helluva way to wish a guy Happy Birthday.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not all.”

He pulled out a bag of the greasiest breakfast burritos from a shop around the corner from Charlies that they had discovered after being up all night gaming, drunk and caffeinated out of their minds.

“Oh my god, you do love me!” Dean snatched the bag out of Sam’s hand and grabbed a burrito and cradled it to his chest. He looked up at Sam and said fervently, “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“No you don’t. You’re just hungry. You want me to leave you two alone or should I take it back downstairs where the coffee lives?”

Dean stared down at the warm lump in his hand and honestly considered eating it right away, but Sam was right and scrambled eggs and peppers were not something he wanted to clean off his sheets whenever he found them again after the coming festivities.

“Yeah, thanks, let me grab some clothes and I’ll meet you down there.”

“You got it,” Sam took the burrito back as Dean dropped it into his outstretched hand.

“No fucking with it now, I know how it’s supposed to be wrapped,” Dean warned with a firm pointer finger.

Sam rolled his eyes and his hair along with them and stalked out of Dean’s room towards the backstairs that led into the kitchen.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, coffee and contemplation and all that. Just two brothers celebrating a year that both of them were worried wouldn’t come. Aging might be a bitch, but it is definitely better than the alternative. And for the Winchester brothers, a blessing they weren’t ever quite sure they deserved.

Charlie and you slinked in just after noon, after Dean and Sam had half-heartedly worked off their breakfasts and showered for the day. You had the most obnoxious balloon cowboy hat for him while Charlie presented him with a ‘birthday prince’ sash that he was under orders to keep on all day.

Dean eyed you both with a simmering shame-twinged annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He already got looks when he went out as it was, plus only a douche of a grown man demands strangers acknowledge his birthday that way.

“Guys, come on. I��m not— this is a little ridiculous,” Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful.

You sighed. “Okay, fine, spoilsport. Just let us take a few pictures and you can ditch the hat.”

“Oh! The hat was the best part!” Sam lamented.

“Can it, Sammy,” Dean snipped.

Charlie chuckled. “Okay, but you can totally wear the sash where we’re going, because nobody else will even be there to see you in it, just your friends.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked the redhead in the eye, she wasn’t going to let him win. “Great—- just great.”

Lee and Benny were gonna have a field day with this one.

“Atta boy! Say CHEESE!” Charlie chirped, taking way too many shots and angles with him and his birthday attire.

They hung out and shared a joint, picking at a cheese tray that Sam had pulled out. Sure they had places to be, but that was the beauty of being the guest of honor, everything revolved around Dean-time. And as absolutely narcissistic as that sounded, Dean could get used to that kind of schedule.

The party bus arrived just before two. It was actually the band’s touring bus, which meant it was roomy and stocked to the brim with alcohol and edibles. Bud itself was never left on the bus to dry out. Inside were Benny, Cesar and Jesse, all moderately sober as they were also acting as light security detail for the day. Pam and Lee brought Gibson along, which told Dean wherever they were headed was going to be fun, however wholesome. Madison and Annie were there with Bobby upfront driving ‘The Proud Mary’ as the bus was so lovingly called. And around the table in the small kitchenette were Kevin, Ash and Cas.

Holy shit, Dean had to blink.

He turned around on the stairs and looked at you, who were the only one daring enough to pull this off. “Are you kidding me right now?!”

“What?” You smirked and batted your eyelashes with fake innocence.

Dean looked at you and felt something in his chest crack. But before he could get overrun by the emotions, gratitude, fear, even anger, Sam cleared his throat.

“In or out, Dean, air’s on.”

Dean nodded and blinked away the awe. “Thank you,” he grunted beneath his breath and turned to the cheers and jeers of his people.

“There he is!”

“Birthday boy!”

“Hey Winchester, I like your do-hickey,” Benny teased.

“It’s a sash, dumbass,” Cesar quipped, flicking the brim of Benny’s cap.

“HAPPY BIRTH-DAY,” Pam started offkey and then everybody joined in. Dean nodded along, faux-conducting and fighting the blush on his cheeks with every out of tune note.

He bowed as the song ended and then griped, “Yeah, okay, enough of that. Let’s get this shit started, shall we?! Uh, Gibson you good to DD on the way home, buddy?”

Everyone laughed.

“UNCLE DEAN! I can’t drive yet.”

“You sure?”

“I’m only six!”

“I don’t know,” Dean said thoughtfully, bending to look the stringbean over. “I think you could pass for seven or eight maybe.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. “Fine! I’ll let Bobby keep his spot for today, but when you get your license, come talk to me about a job young man,” Dean promised.

Dean eased onto the bus, with you and Sam on his heels until you broke off to find a seat. He nodded and accepted hugs and high fives before he made his way to the table in the back, well that section’s back. The bunks and the bathroom were down a short hallway past the eating area and bar.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Dean said broadly, but his eyes couldn’t stop looking for Cas’.

“Of course, man! Gotta celebrate another trip around the sun,” Ash exclaimed, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Kevin sniggered as he looked up at Dean and back across to Cas. “You know he’s real and everything.”

“He even speaks,” Cas deadpanned, turning his glare at Kevin.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean felt the lurch of the bus entering traffic and panic resurfaced. “Good to see you. But, uh, we’ll catch up at some point? I gotta,” Dean sputtered and thumbed toward the general direction of the side-by-side seats along one wall.

“Of course,” Cas nodded, but gave Dean a tentative smile. Dean felt lightheaded but he felt better when he had a solid seat underneath his ass. Talk about a mindfuck.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and silently thanked the universe that he agreed to these super secret, group, birthday shenanigans.

The adventure park was suspiciously abandoned, even for a weekend day. But Dean took it as part of the present, no paps, no families with kids too young for school clogging up the Skee Ball lanes or having accidents on the go karts. He was kind of amazed y’all were able to pull this off, but it was far enough away from the busier parts of town that maybe you had scored a good deal. Or maybe Dean didn’t want to think about how much you and Sam and probably Bobby had shelled out for the day.

Even after years of his own success, Dean felt guilty whenever people spent money on him.

“Okay, line up for your wristbands. Everyone gets one, if you run out of tokens, tough luck. Laser Tag and Go Karts are available if we ask, just make sure there’s a big enough group to make up for the staff being pulled to those locations. Pizza will be set out as a buffet at five. I’ll get pitchers of water and soda out in the meantime,” you used a teacher's voice over the rowdy crowd as they beelined out of the bus and up to the gates.

Dean was almost giddy; he was so excited.

You bestowed a lanyard over his head, instead of a wristband. Which meant unlimited tokens for games and a turn in the vortex machine where paper tickets floated around and he was supposed to catch them for prizes. He was banking on letting Gibson take that responsibility, but hadn’t said anything because he knew Pam hated to spoil him, especially on someone else’s birthday. Oh well, being a surrogate Uncle held some leeway afterall.

“First one to the gokarts is a rotten egg!” Ash called out, making everyone turn on their heels and book it through the doors.

Dean laughed at the reversion to grade school taunts, but definitely tripped Sam on his way passed.

Somehow, Bobby and Annie got the first kart, but then again Dean didn’t remember seeing them as you made your little announcement, so they must have had a head start. The line was a mass of people bickering for a turn, which color kart they wanted, or which number if you were Charlie and Kevin. Dean had his shotgun attached at his hip, bouncing on the soles of his feet. But everytime he glanced up and saw Cas talking to Sam or nodding at something Pam said, he had to do a double take.

In all, they filled nearly all the available twelve karts. Dean and Gibson were in number 11, Lee, Benny, Pam, Cas, Ash, Kevin, Cesar, Jesse and Charlie all drove solo. While Sam and Madison, Bobby and Annie paired off. No one could get you in one of those things if they tried, and they all knew better than to try. Which Dean was grateful for, he hated rehashing your shit for other people’s understanding.

They did four lap races for almost an hour, with Dean sneaking past Bobby for the final victory. But everyone (except for Ash and Charlie) had lost count of their stats by the time they got inside to chug some soda and hit the arcade area before dinner.

Dean was sweating, faux satin clinging to his back through his shirts as he polished off a cup of flat cola. But he couldn’t keep the grin off his face long, seeing all of his favorite people milling around, trying to one up each other or just beat one another to a coveted game. It was the stuff of childhood birthdays he had only ever dreamed about, but you had made possible.

Lee held Gibson on his shoulders as they took Sam on at the free throw alleys. Charlie and Madison were playing some kind of shooting game while Kevin and Cesar watched them, obviously impressed by their stances with the fake rifles. It made him think of Jo and Big Buck Hunter for the briefest moment, but he tucked that away and chose to relish in the moment instead. Cas and Jesse were at the air hockey table and Bobby and Ash huddled by the wall of Skeeball machines, not partaking themselves, just watching you as you sank ball after ball into the 300 or better rings.

Dean couldn’t pick what he wanted to do next, so he just watched for a few minutes, soaking in the joy around him.

Eventually, his stomach chose for him. The pizzas were delivered in a tidy row down a side table of every cheap topping option available. There was even a mushroom option, which was probably the only thing close to a vegetable in the place, but it meant Sam couldn’t bitch. Everyone chowed down, standing and sitting in hodgepodge groupings, laughing and debating on what to do next.

Pam was comparing Cas’ and Kevin’s tattoos as Dean approached, paper plate firmly in hand, chewing as he silently butt into the conversation.

“Looks good, I mean, he’d hate them, but you know that would only be for show,” Pam said about the late Rufus.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, pulling his arm back.

“Crotchety old bastard,” Dean added between bites.

“May he rest in peace,” Pam added, respect and mirth flitted in her eyes.

“So, Cas, how’s the kid and the band and fucking everything?” Pam changed the subject.

“Uh, we’re—- making progress,” Cas said simply, clearly unsure what to do with Dean’s presence. He worried at his lip ring like he always did when he was uncomfortable, but Dean was too damn curious and stubborn to take the hint.

“They’re finding their sound, it’s kind of cool to see it happen. You should go with me sometime to their rehearsals. It’s very organic,” Kevin explained. “It’s like they can sense what the other is thinking and just go for it.”

Dean couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t sting.

He cleared his throat. “So, where do you guys practice?”

“Oh— my place,” Cas said.

The fact that Kevin had been hanging with Cas and getting tattoos was one thing. The fact that he was in on this new band and its budding chemistry all while getting to spend time in Cas’ space was nothing short of getting his knees kicked out.

Not to mention, Cas had barely a townhouse with only one extra bedroom. He always preferred to live simply, as he put it.

“How does that work?”

Pam crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, seeing where this was going better than Dean. “Are you a garage band, Cas?”

He just shrugged.

Dean chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you meant by organic,” he said to Kevin.

“Not exactly— that’s part of it, but I don’t know if it’s like some gene thing or a psychic connection. They’re just really good together.”

Pamela inhaled as Dean squinted at Cas, who had gone stock still with Kevin’s words.

“Gene thing?”

“Dean—,” Pamela warned.

“Oh, crap,” Kevin said, realizing too late that Dean was apparently more in the dark than he’d known.

Castiel remained silent, eyes boring into Dean, waiting for the explosion. It made Dean sick to realize that Cas was afraid of him, of his temper, still.

Dean set down his slice of pizza and squared his shoulders, trying to keep it civil. To not be that guy anymore. “Cas, come on man. What’s that about? He some long lost cousin or something?”

“Jack’s my kid, actually.”

Dean sputtered. “Yeah right, nice one.”

Everyone glared at him.

“You’re serious? How? When? I would have fucking noticed if you had actually boned down some chick—- I mean how old is he?”

Cas rolled his eyes and Dean had the sinking sensation that absolutely none of this was his business. But Cas had been his best friend for most of their lives— it was important information to have, even if it was twenty years too late.

Kevin and Pam silently agreed to disappear, but Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. They were there and then they were gone.

“Dean,” Cas chastised.

“No— I deserve to know. I mean, what the hell? A kid?”

Cas raised his eyebrow, the one with the damn ring in it and Dean wanted, not for the first time, to yank it out.

“Kind of like I— like we deserved to know you were in an underground fighting ring? Like you had some sort of deathwish pact with a pimp and a known murderer?”

Dean felt an icy chill run down his spine, his hands instantly turned to fists and he had to breathe to keep the rage at bay. But his chest was so tight and the shame had become worms in his stomach. He wasn’t going to puke at his own birthday party, not from something as pathetic as his own mistakes. Alcohol would have been an easier taste in his mouth.

The party continued around them, but Dean didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

Cas seemed to register that and looked down at his boots before meeting Dean’s eye once more. “Dean, I’m sorry— that— that was uncalled for.”

Dean swallowed down the bile and exhaled.

He unclenched his fists, shaking them slightly to feel something other than overwhelming emotion, the kind he’d need a few sessions with Missouri to even name.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean grunted, head down as he got himself together.

“Dean— we should talk, but I can’t really explain myself in front of everyone.”

Dean hummed.

“It’s just— I think there’s a lot we never got off our chests and it only made the last couple of years harder— on both of us.”

“It seems like everyone else already knows your business, Cas. Just kind of sucks to be the last to know.”

Cas nodded, eyes still tight, still on guard.

“But I guess the way I was— kind of makes sense. I didn’t deserve to know.”

Cas’ face softened. “Dean— that’s not. Let’s not, right now. Later. Okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dean inched around the corner, weapon drawn and head on a swivel. He couldn’t see much, but endless nooks for the enemy to hide. The arena was dark, out of necessity, but it only added to the adrenaline pumping through him. Dean nodded to his teammate and they spun around the next edge, fingers on their triggers as they stood back to back.

He really wished they had communication between the other members of Green Team, but that was just rich people thinking for a family entertainment center. It wasn’t like they were storming the beaches of Normandy here.

Something moved in his periphery but before Dean could turn you shot behind him, getting Kevin square in the chest. You both watched as Kevin fell dramatically to the floor, one down, five more to go.

“Nice shot,” Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I feel like that was too easy,” you replied, searching the area while you whispered.

“Might have been a scout,” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, but—”

He felt you shift behind him and he rounded to cover you, but Benny was already there, a near wall of guns behind him.

“It was a fire fight!” Ash screamed out of his spot above them, taking Charlie out with the distraction.

You kept your body turned, lessening their target and fired without even blinking, but Sam had height on you and you ended up taking each other out. Dean, unable to make a shot connect, cursed, turned tail, and ran, ducking down a ladder and trying to loop back on Benny and Pam.

Three down to his team’s one, that he knew of, still good odds.

But then he saw Jesse sitting with his back against a wall, clearly down. Dean needed to find Cas and Cesar yesterday. Or they wouldn’t be able to call it in their favor. He crouched down and checked his back, without you to watch his six he felt extra exposed, though he kept to the edges, using the shadows to his advantage.

He heard whispering and he immediately hit the deck, rolling until he was flush with wall length-wise. But the voices stopped about ten feet away, either on the level above him or around the corner out of sight. Dean waited, gun drawn and senses on overdrive.

The telltale electronic chime of a chest plate activating sounded off and the voices turned from whispers to shouts of shock. Someone had gotten Pam.

Which meant that Lee and Benny were the only ones left from Sam’s team.

And Lee was alone looking to the rafters from the sounds of it.

Dean army-crawled around the corner and got Lee from underneath, his cackle of victory the only way Lee even knew he was there.

“You sonofabitch!” Lee griped, helping Dean up before disappearing to the land of misfit toys, aka following Pam to the nearest exit.

Cesar appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and nodded Dean back to the rest of the team. Cas and Ash were still alive and kicking, strategizing on how to find or draw out Benny. But before Dean could turn and let Cesar back into the huddle, his chest piece crackled to life: Benny had shot him in the back.

Dean waved him off, trying to catch up with Benny’s trail, as Ash and Cas flanked him widely. They tried to cast a broad net, but instead they left too much space and Benny wound around them and took Ash out without Dean or Cas even seeing him.

Dean looked at Cas and Cas nodded, doubling back and letting Dean take point.

It felt like hours, but really it only took maybe five more minutes of creeping around the obstacles in the center of the arena for Dean to catch sight of Benny. His sturdy frame ducked behind a pillar as Dean slowly followed. But he was too slow, because Benny had spun around and had his gun on Dean’s back plate before Dean could move.

“Bang bang,” Benny taunted, but he didn’t pull the trigger. He wanted Dean to surrender, but that wouldn’t do anything unless… Benny didn’t know Cas was still out there.

Dean held up his arms, but he didn’t drop his weapon.

“Alright, cher, nice and easy,” Benny coaxed Dean to turn face him.

“You got me,man,” Dean huffed, playing it up.

“Well, even the Birthday Prince loses sometimes.”

Then Benny’s chest flashed to life.

“What the—”

“And sometimes they still win,” Cas’ deadpan interrupted Benny’s surprise.

“Nice one, Cas!” Dean held up his hand for a high five, but Cas just cocked his head as the overheads snapped on, blinding them all in sudden light.

It wasn’t the first time that Dean thought Cas had some super-human senses. And he was happy to think that it probably wasn’t the last time either. Not anymore.

Everything considered, Gibson won the day. Every single adult, even Kevin, forked over the prize tickets they had wracked up on their wristbands for Gibson to exchange for a four foot long stuffed dog from some show or another. Dean fist bumped him and helped him carry the thing back onto the bus. But before Dean could haul himself up the first step, Sam pulled him back to the curb.

“Here— don’t say I never got you anything.” Sam handed him a massive rainbowed Slinky.

“Holy shit! I didn’t even see that! This is awesome,” Dean geeked out. “Thanks, man.”

Sam just shook his head and grinned.

Everyone got back on the bus and started in on the adult beverages as you sorted the tab and made sure everything was alright with the staff. Dean sat on his hands, forcing himself not to run back in and add on his own tip. He really did trust you, but some habits were hard to break.

“Ready?” Dean heard Bobby ask you before cranking the door shut.

The bus rumbled off the curb and into the neverending traffic of the city at night. But they had everything they could possibly need on board. And when you sat down in the spot beside him, Dean couldn’t think of a single thing that could make his birthday any better.

He looked over at you and smiled, soft, just a hint of it on his lips, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. You rolled your eyes and smiled back. And yeah, today might have been one for the books. But there were still chapters left unwritten between you two and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wait anymore to find out what they’d said.

Then his phone rang. “Dean? Happy birthday! How did you want to go celebrate?”

It was Bela.

He had completely forgotten to invite Bela.

And apparently, somehow, so had you.

Fuck.

Tagging:

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@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 22: Dolce

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #dean fluff #dean angst

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frankenkyle19 · 2 years ago

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🌼Blow Dryer 🌸

Okay here it is! Hurt/comfort with Kyle Spencer. It’s not my best work, but I’m tired and didn’t feel like really digging in and getting myself too upset (Kyle’s whole backstory makes me very emotional, and I probably will never go more in depth about his trauma in a fic like this then passing explanations of it because writing out Kyle explaining what happened is way too much mentally for me) ANYWAYS

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of abuse (kind of?)

word count: 839

Since Kyle had been brought back to life, he obviously found it hard to communicate. His needs, his emotions. It made things a thousand times harder than they already were for the poor boy.

You didn’t really know Kyle’s backstory, having joined the coven after he was brought back, and since he became so attached to you instantly, Zoe and Madison didn’t really help you. You ended up becoming Kyle’s main caretaker, helping him eat, get dressed, and stay clean. He was always by your side. You wished you could just reach into his mind and figure out what he had been before this. Who he had been. But alas, you couldn’t.

He was very skittish, somewhat like a wild animal at times. He wanted attention, but then he didn’t. He was happy, then sad or angry. He’d love your gentle touches and when you played with his hair, and sometimes he’d throw your hands off of him, a displeased grumble coming from deep in his chest. You weren’t sure what it was that triggered these reactions, but you were always careful with what he did and didn’t like.

One day, while helping give him a quick shower, (mostly just observing to make sure he actually got clean and didn’t just stand under the water) he got extremely fidgety and upset. You had tried to soothe him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tried to mumble something to you, which sadly, you could not understand.

“I don’t understand, Kyle-“

“Mrghh! N-no!” He yelled, grabbing the bottle of shampoo and throwing it at the bathroom mirror. It bounced off, luckily having only cracked it a bit. It could have been worse.

“Kyle! No!” You shouted, not expecting such a reaction.

He instantly flinched as you raised your voice, curling in on himself as he shook his head quickly, backing up into the farthest corner of the shower.

A deep frown set on your face as you reached out to try and soothe him once more-

“Kyle-“

“Noooo! No h-hurt kyleee!”

You paused immediately, moving to turn off the water.

He peeked up at you from where he had hid his face in his hands. Tears welled in his eyes as he blinked a few times, wet hair sticking to his forehead.

“No touch K-Kyle..” he whispered, voice hoarse, but quite clear.

So, you left him. You set the towel down next to him, as well as laying out his clothing if he wanted to dress himself, before leaving the bathroom all together. Despite what most of the others said, Kyle wasn’t stupid. You knew that. He also was human, he deserved to be listened to.

It was a while later when there was a quiet knock on your door. You got up quickly, closing the book you were reading, before opening the door. And there he was. Kyle stood in front of you, pants pulled up but backwards and not buttoned, and shirt inside out and on seemingly upside down? His eyes pleaded with you, asking for help without using words, and you gently pulled him into the room.

You helped redress him the right way before letting him sit on your bed. He seemed to be calmer now, but you were still careful with your movements and touches.

He pointed at his still wet hair before looking up at you “b-blo-“ he tried to articulate the words, brows furrowing with his effort.

“Blo-owww. W-warm dryyy.” He spoke before swallowing hard.

The blow dryer

That’s what he was asking for. He wanted you to dry his hair. Since he had stumbled upon you using it on yourself once after a shower, he always asked for it too.

Of course you had to comply, and you dried his hair with the blow dryer, letting the warm air sweep over his face, causing him to laugh.

Once his hair was dry you put it away before going back to sit next to Kyle, looking deeply into his eyes. Those beautiful doe-ish eyes held so much. Hopefully one day you’d be able to understand Kyle fully, and be able to help him better.

But for now, you settled into your bed with him after he had wrapped his arms around you, his silent demand of cuddles.

He fell asleep quickly, and as you watched his even breathing, his relaxed features, you knew you’d never let anyone or anything hurt him ever again.

After some time, he told you what had happened. About his past. About his piece of shit ‘mother’. It all broke your heart for him. He had been through so much more than anyone ever should have to be put through. And yet, he was still so strong. He was working to get better, to be able to talk and be reintroduced to society.

In time everything would work out. You had Kyle, and he had you. You didn’t need anything else. It was you and the zombie boy against the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters icons #ahs kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer imagine #kyle spencer #kyle spencer fluff #ahs fandom #ahs coven #american horror coven

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claryshifts · 29 days ago

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Making American Horror Story DRs "Safe"

I'll update this with each season I watch! Most of this will focus on one of the "Evans" bc I know a lot of yall horny bastards wanna hop on him (real) Each section will have an "ultra safe" paragraph and a "safe as possible?" paragraph. idk -Murder House: Option One: The house isn't possessed or whatever you want to call it. Hell, you don't even have to live in it. Though Tate has problems with his mom (that adds a lot to his character, so I'd still 'keep that'), he's never had terrible thoughts of doing what he did at that school or any other gross things. I personally would still 'script out' the self-harm. Wouldn't want my partner to suffer that Option Two: If you still want that ghostly experience, then sure, by all means, live in the haunted house. but maybe cut out the satan part... Also script the ghosts don't have shitty timing (they don't bother you in the bathroom or when you're sleeping, for ex). If you want Tate as a ghost and not alive, still, don't date a ghost mass yknow what 😭 😭 BONUS: instead of tate, date violet 🥰🥰 -Asylum: Option One: You can live a nice quiet life with Kit. it's the 60s though, so if you're fem/poc/lgbt/etc, keep that in mind. whenever I go to a reality in the past I script I don't get bored without technology lol Option Two: have fun at the asylum, ig, boo. If you want some edgy lore, pls don't script you're a psycho killer or something omg 😭. Script none of the people in charge inflect punishments on you. If you really wanna get freaky in that musty place, script you don't get caught... and that its not all musty... -Coven: I got a lot to say bc I think Imma make a script for this too haha Option One: no scary demon devils or whatever. Uh, Kyle isn't treated like a sex object???? Nothing bad happens to Nan (she deserves better). If Kyle has to die (that sounds so weird to say) for your lore or whatever, don't purposely give him a traumatizing experience. this isn't a fan fic,, that's your REALITY. Honestly you could just script you're a silly little witch hanging out in New Orleans and call it a day. Madison isn't annoying af. No Axe Man. LaLaurie being Queenie's "slave" was deserved but maybe just script her 'out' altogether... Option Two: Okay, so you want the drama. Have the drama! Still no demon devils though cuz that does NOT sound fun. Script you and the people you care about are all safe from harm. If Kyle HAS to go through that terrible experience (I'm his biggest defender as you can tell), at least keep Madison and Zoe away or at bay bc seeing them fight over a guy who can't even say "food" and OBVIOUSLY can't verbally consent was so uncomfy, for me at least. -Freak Show: Option One: no scary clowns. The "freaks" aren't treated like shit. Neal Patrick Harris doesn't show up with his puppet??? No one is trying to make money off of the freaks. None of them are murdered or harmed. Option Two: Ig if you still want the plot they still have to be treated pretty shitty. Still would apply everything else though, as well as the fact nothing happens to you.

-Hotel: Option One: Ok look James March. Wonderful man. Make him NOT a serial killer omg. If you get with him I'm convinced a relationship with him would be straight up Morticia and Gomez uishfuihfjsf I want him so bad. Anyway, if he's your man keep the countess off your back, if you keep her there at all. I wouldn't recommend making yourself a ghost bc idk WTFFF that would mean for you spiritually. You could be sexy March's sexy human partner. Or the countess' partner. Anyone's partner. but alive. Um no 10 commandment killings of any sort, and no vampire children???

Option Two: ngl idk how else to put this?? idk if there should be an option 2 ;-;

Currently on Roanoke! this season is so boring I might not write anything for it

#reality shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting community #shiftblr #shifting blog #reality shifter #shifting motivation #desired reality #shifting realities #shifting reality

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myall6793 · 1 month ago

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DUDE I'M KINDA PISSED AND I NEED TO TALK ABT THIS.

SO SINCE THE FANS RUINED MADISON AND RUDY'S FRIENDSHIP IN 2020, THINGS HAVE BEEN WEIRDDDDD.

Like I know people say they're friends irl and they just don't post anymore, but until I SEE that, I just can't believe it.

Like Jiara in S1 was so natural, it was sooo fun and it felt good.

But now that they've kinda been forced together in season 3 & 4, it feels just that, FORCED.

Like there's all of this natural couple stuff that should be happening, that's just not, and I can feel the awkwardness through the screen.

I feel like it's awkward for Madison and Rudy, and therefore we're not getting those small unscripted moments like we were getting in S1-S2.

Even with John B & Sarah, we're still occasionally getting those small moments where John B puts his arm around Sarah to comfort her or when he longingly looks at her in a scene.

Through the whole break-up of the actors, they kept it professional and played their roles. It doesn't FEEL awkward.

But with Jiara, it's honestly hard to believe they're even dating BECAUSE WE'RE NOT GETTING THOSE SMALL MOMENTS.

And that's no fault to Madison or Rudy, it just is what it is and I'm simply making a statement.

Like there's so many moments that the natural couple stuff I'm talking about could've happened, and just didn't.

Such as:

1. After Kiara nearly drowned after diving looking for the amulet, and they got back on the boat, HE COULD'VE HELD HER AND COMFORTED HER AS SHE WAS COUGHING AND RECOVERING. Also, when they had the bends. I read a fic of that scene rewritten and it was SO JJ to still hold her and make sure she's okay even though he's in pain too. WHY DIDN'T WE SEE THAT????

2. When she was sleeping in the chair, he could've put his arm around her. (I think maybe he was sleeping too though... So!)

3. After the turtles got run over by Ruthie & Topper, JJ COULD'VE HUGGED HIS GIRL SEEING THAT SHE WAS UPSET. LIKE SHE WAS NEARLY CRYING AND HE JUST WALKED HEXT TO HER AS THEY WERE GOING BACK TO THE TWINKIE.

4. When JJ needed someone to read the cursive for him in the letter he got from Mr. Generette, HE COULD'VE ASKED HIS GIRLFRIEND, like in season 2 when Pope got the letter from Denmark, and Kie read the cursive. I get that it played out for the plot for Luke to read it to him, BUT STILL.

IT'S STUFF LIKE THAT THAT MAKES THEIR RELATIONSHIP UNBELIEVABLE AND AWKWARD.

THERE'S NOOOOO CHEMISTRY. THE CHEMISTRY IS DEAD, GONE, & BURIED.

And I know it's too late, what's done is done and there absolutely is no time to change anymore relationships, but I just can't help but kind of wish Jiara never happened if I knew it was gonna be like this.

I'm a Kiara defender until I die, and people bash her for John B in S1, Pope in S1-S2 and then JJ S3-S4, and because the writers made it that way, her hopping into another relationship or something would just seem more rushed than it already seems.

I kinda just want my girl to be ON HER OWN. She deserves to be happy without being with anyone.

And if I was her, I would've dropped him SEASONS AGO because he has done nothing but piss me off in S4. (totally unrelated to this rant)

Anyway, thanks for listening to (reading) my ted talk. 😁✨

#obx #outer banks #kiara carrera #jj maybank #jiara obx #jiara outer banks #jiara #ted talks #needed to get this off my chest #don't bash me #i'm just a girl #i'm just rambling

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kooktrash · 2 years ago

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hey now that the requests are open i would like to ask you for a part 2 of fighting heart ???!!!!! Maybe her family dealing with the relationship, lots of jk being whipped for y/n of course, him being happy for once???? (hes been through a lot). I was thinking maybe a scene with y/n being jealous since he is a boxer and theres a lot of girls into him (??) and some smut plss. (never made a request before so i hope this is okay)

idk if you wanted fluff but it’s what fighting heart!jk deserves 😤

fighting heart | jeon jungkook

REQUESTS OPEN

warnings: 1.4K words. fluff. just fluff.

also no smut, but I do have other FH!JK requests with smut so don’t you worry

Jungkook had never worn such an expensive suit in his life. It was more than three times his rent and just being in it made him feel like he was betraying his family. The money used for the suit should’ve gone toward paying off their debt, but it didn’t. He was actually happy it didn’t, he can’t remember the last time anything was done for him. It definitely wasn’t before you came into his life.

You’re the one who got him this suit anyway, it was a present for his first mini press conference. At first he rejected it, he’s still waiting for the day he can do things for you instead of the other way around but soon he’ll get there. He’s already gotten so many calls for agencies but he’s sticking to his roots. He’s keeping Jin around, and his usual team of rough housers. He’s even brought Hoseok along in his journey as his trainer and he couldn’t be happier and nervous at the same time.

He was on stage, a few reporters in front of him and camera flashes highlighting the bruise on his eye. He’s still getting some good hits but his defense has definitely improved since he started training correctly. He squinted with the brightness of the light but he tried to speak through a shaky voice, “You know, I’m grateful for everyone here tonight and honestly, I wouldn’t even be up here if it wasn’t for my beautiful girlfriend, Y/n L/n.”

An eruption of cheers echoed through the walls of the banquet hall as Jungkook then pointed his hand to the person next to you, “And of course, Mr. L/n for providing me with this opportunity to grow as a fighter—“ more cheers “—and for creating the person I love.” Some laughter at that.

Everyone was loud in the way they cheered but it wasn’t a surprise. The press conference was being held at one of the many L/n hotels. This is technically the first time Jungkook has met your father and he’s praying that his win tonight was enough to impress the man to approve of your relationship. By the time the questions came to an end, he was immediately bombarded by spectators who watched the fight.

You stood back letting him get some limelight as your father was next to you and Jin on the other side. You looked up at him nervously, he’s let you organize this event but he’s yet to tell you how he really feels about your boyfriend. He took a stride toward Jungkook who was surrounded by new fans waiting for his autograph—something he never experienced before—but with his growing presence in the media and industry, he’s becoming popular quick.

Jungkook looked up nervously, “Sir—“

“You did good tonight Jungkook,” your father said sternly, “You’ve brought in a lot of press for the hotel and I’ve gotten offers to sponsor more fighters. You also seem to be treating my only daughter well… You aren’t the type I expected Y/n to want to be with.”

Jungkook’s heart was racing listening to the man continue. “But, I can see that you value her and appreciate everything she’s helped you with.”

“Dad…” “I do sir,” Jungkook admitted before you could tell your dad to cut things short, “I love Y/n with my everything.” You smiled shyly as he said that. Your dad seemed pleased, “I’m looking forward to sponsoring you in the future, Jungkook, and you’re welcome to join us on our trip to New York next month, we’ll schedule a visit to Madison Square Garden.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped at the prospect, eyes shifting to yours as you gave him a proud smile. Your dad turned toward Jin, “Come on, let’s work to write up a contract for upcoming fights.” Jin nodded, giving a thumbs up to Jungkook and following after him. Jin was going to be his main manager and with his law degree help, he’ll be able to find him all the right resources he needs.

You went to join Jungkook, finally, when you were cut off by a group of girls who flocked around him like pigeons. They were in his face telling him how good he was, how hot he was, if he could sign an autograph. Jungkook looked overwhelmed, struggling to speak and you just watched.

“Wow, you’re so fit, you handled your opponent so well.”

“If you need someone to take care of all your wounds, I’ll give you my number, feel free to call me at any time.”

“Do you sign autographs? Can I get your signature?”

It was unbelievable, truly. These women must have completely tuned out the part where Jungkook mentioned you in the conference, or even now that he had talked to your father. They turned a blind eye to you, throwing themselves at Jungkook and you weren’t having it.

Without thinking, you pushed through the crowd of at least six women and joined him. Immediately he wrapped an arm around your waist noticing the cute furrow in your brows and pout on your lips. He visibly frowned, eyes softening and that little sparkle appearing in his irises, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m going to have to share you now with all your new fans,” you said in a whiny voice that only someone spoiled would use. He looked at the girls around him who had stepped back but were still clearly hovering. He pulled you into his chest, “Awe baby, I’m only ever going to be yours, fans or no fans.” He whispered as he tilted your chin up to plant an extremely soft kiss on your lips.

You smiled, eyes closing for a second as he did it again, and then another one. He kissed your cheek making you smile, then your other cheek. He pressed a kiss to your nose, and forehead, speeding up his pace as he bombarded your face and neck with little pecks of a kiss. You couldn’t help but laugh, fighting him off but he only hugged you tighter, “Jungkook,” you whined when you heard the clicking of cameras again, all aimed toward the two of you.

He smiled, finally stopping but holding you close. You just smiled, “My dad likes you, and now I’m so excited for you to stay at my apartment in New York!”

“Yours?” He asked, making you nod, he looked back to where your father had just walked off to me, “Does he really like me? I wanted to impress him so badly but I was so nervous up there. You know I’ve never been in a situation like that.”

“Yes, he liked you, silly,” you said, fixing his suit, “Plus you looked so handsome up there nobody even noticed you were nervous.” He smiled, feeling his heart swell with warmth and shyness as he dug his face into your hair. A huge, scary, fighter like Jungkook, shy when you compliment him.

“Oh and I’d like to say, welcome,” his brows furrowed in confusion as you smirked, “To the Nepo life. My dad’s going to work all his connections to get your career up there.”

“Baby, I don’t want you or him to feel like I’m usi—“ “I know! But you’re a good fighter, all you need is the good connections, everything else you’re doing on your own. You’re the one stepping into the ring, you’re the one at the press conferences, you’re the one in the media. Everything is you, since the beginning. Since Jin saw the potential in you, not of what he could make you.”

Jungkook listened to your words of affirmation, always feeling like enough whenever you talked to him. He smiled softly as you leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek. It was wet, traveling toward his ear as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

You nipped at his earlobe, “And you’re free to use me… however you want, especially if my clothes are off.”

He visibly shuddered, looking around nervously to see if anyone can see what you’re doing to him. The only person he saw staring was Hoseok, who flashed him a thumbs up and some facial expressions that told Jungkook the guy knew what was happening between you too.

He took your hand, “Let’s go, I want my real prize for winning tonight.”

“Your real prize?” You asked, following after him, little kitten heels clacking with each step on the marble floor. He nodded, giddy as he said, “You.”

taglist: @nikkiordonez12 2 @blushblossomsblog @fandems @whosaero o @purpleunicorn051 @rerefundslocals s @shaybts-blog @hobiseightbracelet t @beautifulsunghoon @piscesbunnny @bitemejjk: @asking4-sanity @guvgguk @jiminshi20 @thvhoe @notmyfaultbutours @kimyishin @libra04 @cherrysainttt @potatocheesebites s @zaedynnn @thvlover @thvlover7 idk @kooromiwrld @saweetspoiled @sugaluvmyg @cherrymonlightt

#jeon jungkook #jungkook request #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #bts #kooktrash requests

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vivianbernadetteaurora · 6 months ago

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The OG of beauty and when it goes too far

This is all these women in their prime, obviously, but what about when plastic surgery takes it to too far in some cases, when you’ve had too much lip filler too much Botox changed your face about too much it looks completely different, I was watching Robbie Williams documentary and how they used to call him in the 90s and I literally couldn’t believe it when he was just a normal size man, the same size as my father who was just a normal normal size man tiny bit of a belly but not ridiculously fat not fat at all.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like Hollywood or any kind of media outlet and celebrities from England say that the British pressure is definitely the worst, some Americans would say it’s the other way round don’t Americans don’t Courtney Love say that she was treated really well in the British media because of her love of teacup and other things English, I don’t know really but I’ve seen pretty bad, you don’t get blind items over here. I’ve tried to look for some English celebrities because they’re just not famous in America and it’s one big thing for English artist to crack America.

But some of these women and people get really annoyed when I say I prefer Bobby Jean Brown to Pamela Anderson, just love her personality and I love her style and I don’t like the way that she knew that Tommy had a girlfriend and got with him anyway, anyway it’s Tommy’s fault really because he’s the one who is in a relationship.

But I look at Megan Fox now who is stunning in the mid 2000 and I feel like she’s turned herself into something Genzie like because even Holly Madison and Bridget Marquette, was saying that you can’t be beautiful enough for nowadays. Everything has to have a filter those pictures of like Gwyneth Paltrow with a filter over her face from the 90s.

I’m sorry these kids from this generation don’t seem to think they are attractive but they were fucking stunning, I know they love Pam but they need to love these other women too because they’ve given so much of their life to us😍 they deserve some sort of love.

I guess you can’t have enough beauty in this industry, like plastic surgery drugs and all the other things become very addictive, and they have all the money and the resources to do so, I mean look at the Kardashians when they started, they were a rich family growing up, but they have changed over the years Kim Kardashian, especially and Khloe, khloe was always told that she was the ugly one out of the sisters, she was just a normal Armenian and a woman, beautiful but natural, but that’s not enough even they move growing up around it, actually makes it worse, and Kylie Jenner not forgetting having her lips done and it just being a huge thing because she was so young that’s a sad part.

#plasticsurgery #surgery #fillers #Botox #lip fillers #beauty standards #la #hollywood is evil

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 1 year ago

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So my most famous fanfiction is not dcla related (although I bet I made references in it, I always did even before I wrote dcla fics).

Anyway, no, it was this Glee chatfic that I did in 2020, titled "Glee, but it's another chatfic". I literally got crowned "Queen of chatfics" due to this fic when I posted it.

It's over 80 chapters and while that sounds like a LOT, every chapter is super short. One chapter is literally just this:

It was all really stupid shit like this every chapter but people ATE IT UP. I guess everyone was really bored in 2020.

I am scrolling through random chapters rn and here's another really short one that I am 100% sure I posted at like 2 AM.

In fact, a lot of this fic was written and posted when I was sleep deprived. But it fits with Glee so :D

Random stuff that happens:

Santana starts a group chat called "lesbians who need help" and then she lefts it herself. However, she randomly joins the chat out of nowhere to answer stuff, before leaving again.

Marley and Madison are dating, because one person I chatted with said it would be funny if they met. So I made them meet.

Faberry secretly dates until they don't

Mr. Schue gets some more kids (since he and Emma had like 5 kids in the finale) and I named them random stuff. However, I had apparently named two of them something that was the names of characters in a musical I had never seen. So everyone in the comments were like "ah so you like that musical" and I was like "NO I HAVE NEVER SEEN IT JUST A COINCIDENCE-"

There's a lot of scenes like this:

One chapter just has every character writing in caps

I have absolutely no idea what's going on here

Oh yeah uh. I wrote the whole chatfic because I wanted to make a joke that Brittany could speak swedish because she was blonde. This one joke turned into 80 chapters of nonsense.

One chapter has everyone just spamming "meow"

Ok what the fuck did I write here help

The more I read of this fic the more I wonder if this actually would happen in Glee or not, and I realize it probably would.

I had a Brittana pregnancy fic that I reference a bit in this chatfic. Problem is that I DELETED THE PREGNANCY FIC LATER because I realized I would never update it so now there's a bunch of references to a fic that's gone sdxfcgvbjn

In one chapter everyone changes each other's names and it turns to chaos

Someone in this fic accidentally admits in groupchat they want to marry their girlfriend after being excited their girlfriend swore.

The best thing I did was ending the fic with Sue breaking the fourth wall

I can read this in her voice.

So... does this fic deserve to be my most read?

I have no fucking clue. But one thing I do know is that I am hella good at writing chatfics.

#glee #this is the only chatfic I've actively finished too #like I have other chatfics. like a big crossover with four fandoms #and my violetta-sl chatfic #both which I either have more or less abandoned or update once every blue moon

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practically-an-x-man · 2 years ago

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Hello new friend!!! I have come to return the favor!

I'm gonna go with....

✨ 🤡 🌞 🦅 🤩

Pick whichever or all or none, just as long as you have fun! Have a good day! 😍

thank you!! looking forward to answering these! Have a lovely day yourself, friend <3 <3

Fanfic Writer Emoji Asks - here

Answered below!

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Aww thanks! Honestly I'm really proud of my descriptive style - it's motivated by reading a lot of Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, and Douglas Adams, but I feel like I've developed this really fun blend of humor and creative description, and I'm really proud of it! Some of my fics have more humor than others (Who Waits Forever Anyway? and Heartstrings are probably at the top of the list), but I tend to get some humor going in just about everything I write

🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?

Particularly proud of some of the exchanges between Kyle and Jasper in Heartstrings. It's on AO3 if you want to read it, but here's a lil snippet:

“Aww, Mother Nature just broke up with Father Time,” Jasper joked, “Maybe she’ll take him back when winter rolls around. All those long, chilly nights…”

“You think he’ll leave her flowers?”

“Why would he? She’s got all the flowers she wants, she’s Mother Nature.”

“Yeah, but it’s romantic.” Kyle protested, “It’s not like he can give her, like… an hourglass or something. That’s not romantic.”

“But flowers? That’s like…” Jasper racked their brain for a good analogy, “That’s like cutting off one of her toes and giving it to her. That’s like Hannibal Lecter levels of creepy. She’d never take him back if he did something like that.”

“Okay, ew.” Kyle huffed, “Remind me never to buy you flowers.”

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

I tend to write whenever I have time, usually whenever I'm done with my classes and homework for the day. But I feel like the words really start to flow once it gets to be later at night - it's like my brain's just tired enough not to overthink what I'm writing, and I can really dive into the scene.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

Bit of both. I do rough outlines and make note of key details or interactions so I don't forget them, and I generally outline the next chapter right after I post the previous one (so I can keep the motivation going), but generally the brunt of the storyline just floats around my head. If I write too much down, I start to feel locked-in, and it's harder to let the story evolve the way it wants to.

🤩Who is your favorite character to write?

Ooh, good question. In terms of my OCs, I really enjoy writing Madison (Smoke & Mirrors) and Jasper (Heartstrings) because their banter with the other characters is always really fun to write. In terms of characters that aren't my OCs, I really like Alex Summers, Kyle Spencer, and Armitage Hux, because it's fun to explore their character arcs past what we're given in the original media. I feel like I've fleshed them out quite a bit from what we're given, and it's a really interesting challenge!

#answered asks #ask game

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frazzledsoul · 2 years ago

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Things that I wish had been properly explored in the final season of This Is Us, instead of focusing on Kate and Toby's endless fights, Kate becoming a saint who could do no wrong, Kevin being jealous over Madison's boyfriend, and Deja and Malik's teenage soap opera:

- Kevin experiencing some professional success, both in acting or with Big Three Homes, instead of having his acting career being written off and hearing secondhand about the nonprofit doing well

- Kevin and Madison successfully co-parenting with the six-year-old version of Madison and Nicky, because those kids were adorable. Also more of Kevin with the preteen kids.

- Sophie and Kevin being successfully married, and what their life was like as Kevin becomes more of a caretaker to both Rebecca and Miguel and his own brood

- Kevin, Madison, Sophie, Elijah, and all their kids becoming a sort of postmodern tribe that has to do everything together, apparently. The possibilities here are endless and we barely got a glimpse of them!

- Madison having another child with Elijah, how Kevin feels about that, and he and Sophie not having any children themselves

- Sophie hated LA. Why? Explaaaaaain, guys.

- Toby and his endgame wife and how she gets along with his family

- Toby experiencing some professional success. He gave up his dream for Kate and she got everything she wanted, and then they split up anyway. I think he deserved a bit more of what he wanted, too.

- Cassidy and Kevin's friendship, and how she got to a better place mentally

- Nicky and his adorable wife who we did not see nearly enough of

- More of Tess and Annie as adults. Some version of Annie should get a storyline.

- Toby and Kate as grandparents

- More of Adult Hailee

- Franny and Nicky as adults, since they are the only grandkids we did not see grown up

- Some explanation of how Jack kept Nicky a secret and what Nicky was doing after he came home.

- I'd like to see more of Rebecca and Jack in the afterlife, but what we got was actually perfect.

I know the season was structured the way it was in order to do the solo episodes and give Alexandra Breckenridge time to show up. But they didn't do nearly enough with Sophie once they had her, even though that's when Kevin's life got really interesting and they spent way too much time in the contemporary timeline. Kevin and Madison were fighting over where the twins spent Thanksgiving for about four episodes. Come on, guys. Speed it up!

Overall, I'm not unsatisfied about how things ended up, and obviously I loved Jack and Rebecca reuniting Titanic-style. But we could have had more.

Also, I had lots of issues with the show over the last two or three years....but I miss the Pearsons.

#this is us #the pearsons

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aerospectrum · 2 months ago

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Dean recognized the back to the driver, feet shoved against the door like an attempt at escape. He just didn’t know what he’d done wrong, or said wrong.

But when Madison began to admit, Dean felt his own face warm up in uncertainty and somewhat awkward confusion. He got the hiding up against the door move after that. He let her get it out though, he didn’t want her to think he was silently judging her so he kept his eyes on the road; the gears in his head trying to think of someway to soften the blow of now knowing Zach’s size and her difficulty to adjust to him. That wasn’t the time for jokes though so he didn’t try to think of anything witty on the fly. She deserved to say her piece without him trying to make light of a sensitive issue.

selfishly though he felt a bit defensive of her- annoyed that this guy really had the balls to argue with her about their sex life while packing little to no heat— and being a total douche about it while fucking others the entire time. God he wanted to beat this guys ass all over again. Part of him started considering making Cas lose his shit so he could go get back at the guy for good that time- Cas was always down for a good brawl even if it ended with him getting hurt in the process, but then Dean remembered that he’d already broken Madison’s rules twice- a third would just be insulting. To both her and Cas…

He let her agreement to a treat linger for a few seconds longer and then spoke up. “At the risk of sounding stupid or insensitive, Madison, I don’t think you deserved to be cheated on just because you had a hard time… I get it was a… a physical thing but if I knew the guy I was with was a real piece of shit I’d have a hard time just emotionally letting him in-

I could see it becoming worse when things would turn physical. I wouldn’t want to do anything that didn’t feel good to me either. I don’t… I don’t know, I just, I don’t want you to think you’ve gotta be ashamed that things didn’t go smooth in the bedroom with him. The guy was a prick- a massive prick with a little…” he trailed off, knowing he was getting a bit worked up with anger about the guy all over again and he didn’t need to be vulgar about him. Not to Madison anyway- he’d so tell Castiel though. Maybe.

“you don’t have to sit there like some good little school girl, you know? You could come snoop, see if there’s anything you like in here or want me to make sure I bring to your place.” Dean offered Madison suggestively, peering back over his shoulder to see how she sat so carefully so that he wouldn’t get any free peeps. Still a tease, he decided. He laughed at first and shrugged when she asked.

“What do you want me to leave at your place?” He looked through some jeans and grabbed a few pairs of socks and underwear- you could never go wrong have fresh underwear… “I’ll push the cart, but only if you agree to not get anymore shower gnomes that stare at my dbody.” He felt himself slip into the word, not wanting to be quite as forward as his mind kept taunting him to be with her. “And I’m not joking about that either- that things eyes followed me every time I moved I swear.” He searched through shirts and decided on just a pair of light wash jeans and a faded black t shirt for their home goods extravaganza.

“I’ve gotta change outta these duds; feel free to look around if you want, but don’t take anything unless you really need it.” He joked, heading to the bathroom to change everything and purposely giving her some time to look if she wanted before he announced his return with a “tada.” And arms out at his sides to mimic her display of her outfit earlier for him.

Madison could only grumble as Dean tried to lighten the situation. He was right about one thing, the condoms did protect her from whatever dick ridden sickness he might have had. Thankfully, it was HIM who insisted on wearing them…. That was just about the only thing she could appreciate about him.

Madison hadn’t said a word the whole way to the car. Her cheeks just stayed red & she looked ahead until Dean offered her an olive branch. “It’s not the condoms that I’m embarrassed about.” This conversation was not one she anticipated happening, atleast not so soon. Or ever, if that.

“I’m just… ashamed I guess. I don’t know what’s wrong w/ me,” she leaned her head against the window & shifted her body so her knees were pointed away from Dean. A classic move women did when they were upset w/ the driver. Only she wasn’t upset, she was embarrassed. “It never feels right… I want to enjoy it. But I can’t. He wasn’t even that big & I had a hard time taking it.” Her hand came up to shield her eyes. “Then we would fight…. It’s no wonder he went & cheated on me. Who wants to be w/ a girl who taps at 4 inches?”

Deans offer to buy he a treat made he crack a smile. What was she, a child? One he could promise a treat to & everything would be al better???

Well he was right.

“Okay…” she said softly.

When they arrived back at deans place Madison followed Dean inside his home & all the way to his bedroom. Just because she had a struggling sex life didn’t mean she wasn’t constantly horny. Madison sat on deans bed sitting crisscrossed folding her hands in her lap so Dean couldn’t peak up her skirt. If he wanted to see anything… he could ask.

What about her? Would she ask? No… she was a brat. So she was sitting on his bed, smiling as she waited for him to strip.

“What are you gonna leave at my place?” She asked curiously. “Maybe some shirts?” Ones that she would steal & wear for herself.

“I wanna go to homegoods first. I wanna buy cute comfortable stuff. Oh, & you have to push the basket, I need both hands to look at things.”

#rpwiththelilflower #c; madison #c; dean (there ain't no other men like me)

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indigo474 · 10 months ago

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Jan 14th- sunday sunday sunday

i meant to write all week but didnt.. so much happens, all the time.

I stopped to get gas one morning this week. Thursday? yes, thursday i know because i ran that morning and showered before work. As i was getting my gas i just happened to look over at the pump across they way from me and there were 2 guys checking me out.. it made me smile.. they were kids but still.. i looked behind me and there was another guy checking me out.. it use to make me feel a certain way.. not a good way- but this day- it made me feel good and also i get it.. i look good so i really cant blame them for looking..

tuesday i saw James and everything felt heavy. i lifted less but more reps which was fine with me. i was not feeling it..Thursday i dead lifted 200lbs.. another personal record. apparently this is what we do.. we dead lift. there is no limit as to how much we lift. my knees feel better. i ran a few times this week.. not real far.. 3miles. i ran friday morning in my neighborhood.. in the daylight. first time. i feel like i am making progress.. i have this thing about not being seen.. bizarre considering all i really want is to me seen .. but i'm also scared of being seen but i said fuck it.. i didnt have enough time to drive to the park and i really wanted to run.. so i did.. i'm not sure who saw me nor do i care.. progress.

i was in my feelings at the start of the week. there is a guy in my neighborhood who gives me an icky feeling. i know him but i dont. our daughters were friends in elementary school. i dont think he knows me.. but he smokes cigarettes and watches me run in the am. he reminds me of X.. i drove by his house one night and he was smoking with the door open. something X would have done..smoke in the door way -not really outside- smoke goes in the house.. anyway. i heard this guy leave early monday morning.. absurdly early. 4 ish. it reminded me of x, only he would leave at 3 something to go see his baby momma and his baby.. it brought back memories of the bullshit that i lived through and how messed up it all was .. i didnt deserve to be treated they way i was treated considering what X was up to. is this neighbor guy up to no good.. who knows..i'm just glad i don't have to worry about anyone doing me dirty. its kind of weird what can trigger a memory.. the great news is ..it's all great news.. the past doesnt matter- here now!!!

New York!! such a great time. Dancing in times square! Times Square.. electric.. I was so glad to share the experience with Madison. We went to a museum to see Taylor swifts clothes. MAds is going to London in Aug to see swift- and wants me to go. I am on the fence. i need to make a decision by the end of this week. I am amazed by the number of people in the city.. amazed.. it was a fun visit and i would like to go back. weird thing.. we went to lunch and the other mother we were with was super excited when she saw alcohol on the menu .. i told her i was going to have an iced tea because caffeine.. it was like i ruined the party.. i told her to go ahead and order a drink.. she declined. it made me feel weird.

i made it 10 days.. 14 days porn free and vibrator free.. it was a lot of work to make myself orgasm-i'm just happy i could do it without watching porn.

I got myself a book light and i absolutely love it.. and it was on sale. it makes reading in bed so much better.. just a little light.. i actually really love it. im still reading the Bhgavad gita.. i'm still excited for this year.. not so much this winter.. it is cold and i am over it. i think we are getting snow. i hope it isnt true. I am falling in love with myself more and more each day. it sounds weird to say, type, think, feel.. i am in a love affair with me.. i am looking forward to having next weekend off.. i am still waiting for my King... i hope he is somewhere happy. someday i will tell him about all the days i prayed for him before i knew him.

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measuringbliss · 1 year ago

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Spider-Man Read-Through 035: Stalked By The Spider Slayer (ASM 167-170)

MASTERPOST

In this batch...

Aah, this storyline reaches its climax!

Ross Andru opens this batch with his traditional (and lovely!) building views. Here, Jameson's shooting lasers at Spidey thanks to a suit made by that scientist we've seen a few times.

Well, he's shooting at slides, not at Spidey proper, but that's a detail.

In the meantime, a glowing fireball-shaped human causes a car wreck, but it doesn't matter because we've got some delicious slice of life!

I love the way the team draws eyes in close-ups, it's beautiful. Also, why not? That's a nice plot for May.

Seeing her like that, Peter can't help but wonder... maybe it's time to tell her he's Spider-Man!

His thoughts are interrupted by feeling that someone's watching him. This is, what, the third time he has that feeling now? I wonder what's going on with that plotline!

He asks to be alone, and MJ is comprehensive, and after a quick costume change, he stumbles upon... Jameson in his new robot suit!

Remember that Jameson believes the real Peter Parker is dead, as he saw the pictures that someone took of Spidey getting rid of his clone. He believes our Peter is an imposter, and that's why he was watching him.

Or... maybe not? Jameson simply says that he knew following Peter would lead him to Spidey. Hmm. What's up with that?

Anyway, this is the return of the Spider-Slayer! We already saw that same scenario twice before, as a caption helpfully informs us.

Can't wait to see what's in Jameson's brilliant mind.

MEANWHILE.

My jaw dropped! Time to check back my previous batches because I'm sure I saw that guy...

...Okay, can't find him, but I know it! Maybe it was just under the same role, but he has the most suspicious face to ever feature in this magazine. Is he a hypnotist? I hope he's not doing anything bad to Harry :( Like bringing back his Green Goblin memories...

Later, Spidey surprises Robertson in his car and gets a stern reprimand. It's funny because this is the second time I see a panel on my dash, and read the page not long after! I knew it was coming because I recognized the art style and figured it would come soon.

And it's well-deserved.

So Spidey finally goes to Jameson's office and gets the famous envelope. But before checking at home (gotta build suspense!), he's distracted by our firelight and follows him.

Spidey immediately attacks WOTW even though the latter says he doesn't want to fight, which I suspect was a lack of coordination between the artist and the script because it seems really odd.

There's an envelope quidproquo, then Jameson's remote controlled robot arrives to make the situation even messier.

In the next issue, Jameson is left dissatisfied, while WOTW leaves... literally. Thankfully for JJ, Dr Madison says she'll build a better Spider-Slayer. Oh dear...

Yup. The plot moves forward!

WOTW returns to his creator, Jonas Harrow!!!!!!

Wait, who?

Oh. Okay.

So WOTW and Spidey fight on 5th Avenue! What a fun panel. It's actually nice to see them interact in this decor, feels quite original.

Spidey "we always have a choice"-izes WOTW, who realizes he can't kill Spidey and lurches at the doctor who's in the crowd... and disintegrates, by the baddie's doing, with the simple press of a button.

Time for #169! It's a great cover (check the first pic of this post if you don't believe me).

That's funny, Len Wein, because I was thinking about this run so far and---Sorry, it was too easy.

I wouldn't say Wein's run has been dull so far, but I'm not exactly impressed so far, it seems very... inconsequential. I'll have to see how it evolves (and this batch's intrigue does reel me in!).

Marla Madison is a girlboss, but she can only do so much.

Jameson is kind of over this, though.

You know, I can appreciate what Wein's doing here. He's creating some sort of status quo with those two characters regularly fighting Spidey, a bit like Lex Luthor and Spider-Man, but I can't say I'm particularly attached to this idea.

Meanwhile, the evil (and devilishly hot) doctor returns!

Hm. He's visibly less... intense here. And his thought bubble doesn't show murderous intents. Intriguing.

Just as Peter gets home, someone rings the bell. It's Jameson!

Great fit, Peter. I'm almost tempted to replicate it. "Yes, I'm cosplaying Earth 616 Peter Parker on one page of issue 169, huh-huh!".

That hair grab, though! Is it me, or...? I mean. Some people will see it.

After some prolonged hair grabbing, Jameson surmises Peter's not wearing a mask after all and shows his envelope, that Peter put back in his desk last issue.

What's Peter's explanation?

Oh! Well done, handsome. That's ingenious!

So... Harry's stint as the Green Goblin is public? Wow. Just... wow. That's. Peter... *sigh*

Anyway, he looks so adorable, small-ish then very happy. Adorable!

That's an interesting panel on the left. That's how Marvel wishes to present itself: admired and read by everybody. A bit on the nose imo. The yellow border reinforces its meta aspect.

Spidey ends up at a super secret mega evil lair with mooks shooting at them. He gets rid of them, sees a large shadow and calls out the Kingpin... I grimace...

Except...

Huh. Not a name that inspires trust, you know.

In the readers' letters, the team says Len Wein is known for his long-range plots, and I'm not surprised. I'm here for it. Kinda. "He has the storyline worked out on THOR for the next two years. [...] He tends to lose an issue-by-issue perspective on things." Huh-huh.

#170 time!

Yeah, I had a feeling. He's a Captain America #192 expat, and it's not the first time we see stuff from another magazine come up here in Wein's run...

So that happens, Spidey gets essentially hypnotized by Faustus's smoke and helps them rob a factory or something (it's actually a fun sequence!), but more importantly, girl bonding!

Meanwhile, some guy rents May's house that she owns to retrieve something...

Dr Faustus seems to be an anti-smoking ad personified, and I'm like, sure, why not. At the end, Spidey takes care of him too.

Overall, it's a fun batch, but the Spidey/Peter ratio is completely, utterly messed up. Decompressed storytelling: why not! But that's not it. Still, there was fun stuff.

Also, know who we're going to see in the next post?

#spider-man #peter parker #comics #comic books

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althaiareads · 2 years ago

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“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead.

I want to thank you with my whole heart, and the rest of my body for putting this amazing image in my head at 8:00 am. It really is a wonderful day to start my day. Wow.

God, I hate when I ramble so much, this gets so long. Sorry. Putting the rest under a read more.

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

SPACE COWBOY!??!?!

Girl-

“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.

Not the vecina chismosa. Señora, váyase a hacer sus cosas, jueputa vida JSAHDJSHFJ.

At this point there's no one that doesn't ship those two together. Even the neighbour is on board.

“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction.

DARLING. HE CALLED HER DARLING.

i am fine. so normal. so so so normal.

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

You know what? She is absolutely right. We all need someone to get us all the unhealthy shit that makes serotonin. That's a right protected by the law. That's the 28th amendment right there. Madison told me himself.

I know nothing about american law or history, I'm making shit up.

It is so cute that Sarah and her so close already. They're besties, your honour.

THEY KISSED! MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED.

MAMÁÁÁÁÁÁ SE ACABAN DE BESAR. DIOS MIO, MUCHÍSIMAS GRACIAS!

Te juro que grité cuando pasó. Era justo y necesario.

AMÉN!

Okay, this is one of my favourite Joel fics ever. They have so much chemistry together and her relationship with Sarah is the absolute cutest.

I kind of wish we get to dive in her family history too? Because there's definitely something very interesting there. Anyway, they are awesome, I love them a lot and I love you.

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.

-May 5, 2003-

Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why.

“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.

There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”

“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask.

“A little….why?”

“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”

There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives.

Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t.

Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone.

“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”

“How old are they?”

“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”

“How old is your car?”

“Seven years.”

“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”

“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”

“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”

“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”

“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”

“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”

“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”

“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”

“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically.

Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”

You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?”

“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”

“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”

“You want me to smoke you up?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”

Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.

“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused.

Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 9, 2003-

Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you.

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.”

God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.

“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.

The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.

“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”

“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips.

“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.”

“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”

Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.”

“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”

He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…”

“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”

Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that.

It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.

You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”

“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.”

The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his.

Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business.

“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.

“How are you doing, hun?”

“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction.

“Same here,” he manages.

“What are you ya’ll up to?”

“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise.

You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.

“Yeah, well-”

“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”

You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”

Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”

“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.

The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him.

“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny.

“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.”

“Sarah’s mom?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied.

But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”

Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.”

“Can’t think of anything better.”

You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”

“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”

That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.

For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.

It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down.

It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch.

“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.”

“I told you.”

Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”

Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.”

When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again.

Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again.

“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly.

“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”

“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”

Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs.

“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.”

“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””

“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”

Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others.

“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod.

There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing.

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”

Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks.

“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”

“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does.

“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following.

“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions.

Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements.

“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”

“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name.

His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him.

Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes.

In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed.

In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.

“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”

You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others.

Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip.

“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks.

“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”

So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.”

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”

“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”

“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”

“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam.

“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”

“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”

“Sarah loves these,” he remarks.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”

You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”

He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”

“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.

“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”

“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.”

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps.

Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.

So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.

“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.”

The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.

“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I will.”

Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.

It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.

More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.

Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”

You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.

But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.

“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages.

Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”

The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”

“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?”

You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”

You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”

“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”

“Someone you like?”

“Yes.” Obviously.

“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.”

“Next weekend?”

“That long?”

He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”

For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement.

Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.

----

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#Joel Miller fluff #Joel Miller #Texas Sun #from-the-clouds

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