#anyway they have just like. LOADS of chemistry

[looney-mooney]

Just finished watching season 3 episode 4 of Invincible. Severely disappointed by the lack of Omniman/Allen the Alien fanfiction on AO3

[lyriumsings]

this thing they’re trying to do with amanda and crow is very 🤢 🤢🤢 and im electing to ignore it like i could get behind it if it made sense but ngl nothing makes more sense than crow x guardian in my brain so shrug

[nereidprinc3ss]

i keep you clean; you surrounded me

in which husband!spencer reid spirals after realizing he can't be your daughter's hero forever.

angst, fluff warnings/tags: this fic is about spencer's past addiction, and how he's afraid it will impact his relationship with his daughter, conversation about alcohol, this is a fix-it fic for my life, ends on a hopeful/positive note, lots of self-loathing from Spencer, uses the phrase "shooting up", PLEASE do not read if this is going to upset you!! PLEASE!! fem!reader a/n: this felt healing in a way for me but that might not be your experience reading if you also have issues with a parent with addiction so please tread lightly and make the right choices for you. CHOOSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH OVER MY DUMB FANFIC I CAN'T STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! and ily

“Daddy?”

Ada’s not asking for you, but you look to her anyway. She’s squeezed between you and Spencer on Rossi’s swing, and her cheeks are still feverish—remnants of a recent and rather hysterical fit of giggles. She has a glass of lemonade between her little hands (you’re trusting her with a big girl cup, if only because it’s not your glass or your house) and she peers into it intently. Her little grass-stained feet kick. Spencer pushes the swing back ever so slightly, for her entertainment. 

“Huh?”

She holds her glass up for him. 

“Our drinks are the same color.”

“They are,” he nods. “Do you like yellow?”

Ada shrugs. It’s exaggerated—one of her favorite moves as of late. “It’s okay.”

Spencer glances at you like he always does when he sees glimpses of you in your child, eyes sparkling as if her opinionated and bluntly honest nature is in any way reminiscent of you. 

“Yeah, I agree. Yellow is just okay.”

She leans against him and he’s quick to accommodate her, affectionately brushing his knuckles over your bare shoulder as he slings his arm across the back of the swing. 

“Daddy?”

“What, lovebug?”

You smile, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. The sun is warm on your face. 

“Mommy’s drink is red.”

Nothing gets past her. Rossi had pushed the drink into your hand almost the second you stepped through the door, insisting it would go well with lunch. It sits otherwise untouched on the glass table. 

Spencer hums. The swing rocks gently. 

“That’s because she’s not having lemonade like us. She’s having a grownup drink.”

“Oh.”

You think that’s the end of it, that she’s satisfied with the answer, until another moment passes, and her voice, sweet as the tinkle of little fairy bells, is posing a very loaded question. 

“Why don’t you ever have grownup drinks? Me and you always have the same.”

Spencer’s already looking at you, brows drawn as you sit up. Your eyes, open now, go wide, and you shake your head slightly to signal you have no idea how he’s supposed to respond either. 

His hand goes to Ada’s hair, gently scratching her scalp as his eyes dart over your face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This is one of very few things he clearly didn’t read about in any of the literature on raising kids when you were pregnant. 

“I… some people don’t like grownup drinks.”

It’s an inadequate answer, especially coming from Spencer—just this morning he explained to Ada why the sky is blue. Rayleigh scattering. Blue light scatters more than any other kind of light. Which then led to an impromptu lesson on oxygen molecules and other basic chemistry in the car on the way here. 

So there are standards. 

“Why not?”

You interrupt, unable to watch Spencer flounder any longer. “Ada, why don’t you go see what Henry and JJ and Uncle Dave are doing? That looks fun, right?”

You gesture down the yard to where JJ and Rossi are teaching Henry to play cornhole. 

She looks at you with big brown eyes—the set of them, the color—those are all Spencer.

“Can you and daddy come?”

You straighten out her dress and take the half-full glass from her little hands, setting it next to your own on the table. 

“In a minute. Go ahead.”

Spencer’s hand slips from her hair as she pushes off the swing and bounds down the yard. You make sure she arrives to her destination without incident, before scooting closer to your husband and taking his vacant hand. 

“Spence?” You ask quietly, leaning in to try and insert yourself into his eye line. He doesn’t look away from Ada. 

“That was bad.”

“It wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t—”

He looks down, lips pressed together, and your heart twists and drops like overripe fruit from the vine as you realize his eyes have glossed over. 

“Baby,” you whisper, relinquishing his hand only so you can rub his back. Your other finds his knee, drawing as close as you possibly can. “It’s okay.”

“How am I supposed to explain it to her?”

A tear falls, making a dark splotch on the fabric of his pants. 

“You don’t have to. She’s only five. I guarantee she’s already forgotten all about it.”

“I will. I’ll have to tell her one day. She thinks I’m perfect, how am I supposed to—”

He stops himself, voice tightening to a halt. You watch him hold back a cry like you haven’t seen in years. It’s an old, familiar ache for you. You can’t imagine how it feels for him. 

“Spencer,” you coo. “She adores you. She loves you so much. That’s never going to change.”

His nose twitches. 

“I’m going to disappoint her.”

“How? How are you going to disappoint her?”

“I think it’s pretty disappointing to find out your dad is a junkie.”

His tone isn’t particularly harsh but the words are like a slap anyway. 

“Spencer…” For a moment you don’t know what else to say. It’s not a secret that he’s ashamed of that chapter in his life, but you had no idea he was contending with this much self-loathing over it, even after all this time. It seems like such a distant point in the rearview mirror that the two of you almost never need to talk about it anymore. “You are not a junkie. It’s been, what—a decade?”

“I don’t want to have to tell her what drugs are, let alone that I... she thinks I’m the smartest guy in the world, and one day I’ll have to tell her that drugs are extremely dangerous, and I was shooting up for four months anyway. No matter how I try to explain it to her the ultimate takeaway is going to be that I’m weak and I wasn’t smart enough and she’s never, ever going to forget that. How am I supposed to—I can’t be a role model for her. I fucked up so badly.”

Your chest aches, somewhere deep and hollow, as he leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, only for a moment—before Ada shrieks and his head snaps back up. Henry is chasing her with a worm. Spencer watches on, tears still leaking from his eyes and expression otherwise neutral. It’s bittersweet to hear him express such deep insecurity about the thing he’s best at in the world, even as those parental instincts kick in and he’s setting aside his own feelings to keep an eye on her. He’s never trusted himself. He’s never seen himself the way you do. 

“Baby, you are her dad and she loves you. Her love for you is not contingent on your past. You are so, so good to her. That’s all she knows, okay? She doesn’t care what you were doing when you were 25. She cares about whether you’ll be home for dinner, and if you’ll play dolls with her, and if you’ll tuck her in. That’s all she needs to love you.”

JJ wrangles the kids and after a moment Spencer looks down again, brow furrowed deeply as drops like rain dot his lap, but he hardly makes a sound. You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “And until she’s old enough for the whole story, which involves a lot more violence than I am comfortable with her being subjected to right now, you don’t need to explain it to her. You have time.”

“She wants to know now.”

“She also wants icecream for every meal. But I can’t make her understand why that’s a bad idea. What she wants and what she needs and what she is capable of understanding are all different categories. I know you love answering all her questions, and you’re a really good teacher, but you can’t make her understand something as complex as addiction.”

Spencer sniffs. 

“Developmentally she’s only really capable of understanding the world as it exists in relation to herself.”

“Exactly. So give her some time, and give yourself some time.”

“What if she asks again?”

“Then… you say you don’t like how it makes you feel. And tell her to clean up her toys. Condition her to stop asking.”

Spencer stumbles over a teary laugh he hadn’t been expecting. You sit up straight, holding his face between your hands and encouraging him to look at you. His cheeks shine with tears, but you wipe them away tenderly. 

“You’re perfect to her,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to one cheek, “and you’re perfect to me.” He cups your elbow as you kiss the other and looks at you with so much sheer adoration you could get all choked up, too.

“Wow,” he sniffles, and takes a deep breath, pulling you into him, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he presses three kisses to the curve of your neck where he’s buried his face. 

“I could be canonized as a saint and not deserve you.”

Sainthood. You ponder that. 

Saints have to live virtuously. They also have to be dead. 

You hold him a little tighter. You like him exactly how he is: technically imperfect. Probably not getting into heaven. Still venerable. Very much heroic. Alive, and with you.

“I’m really glad you’re not a saint.”

He chuckles. His hand slides up your back, and then side to side—a path it’s made time and time again which has only ever led you to wonderful, perfect places.

“Me too.”

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Listening to Oxytocin by Billie Eilish imagining a 'FWB who are secretly in love with each other but just too kinky and not emotionally honest enough to do anything about it' situation with Rook Hunt and Cater Diamond (separately).

Or like, making a thirty trap to the song on a TWST version of TikTok just for the cast to reply it over and over again until they rub their skin raw.

(once again I am UNGODLY HORNY LOL!!! So enjoy my sin bestie)

Not going to lie, this was the first time I ever listened to Oxytocin by Billie Eilish. Not my favorite, but not bad.

Warnings: 18+, Gender-neutral! Reader, no specific ‘hole’ is mentioned (could be anal, could be vaginal), FWB relationship wth Rook and Cater (separately), bondage (Cater), not much smut in Rook’s (sorry)

Cater Diamond

It all started when you were both assigned a project in Professor Crewel’s class. The tension was definitely there, and since you were both in the privacy of Ramshackle, and Grim was sleeping in a different room, you both gave into your desires.

Neither one of you realized just how much physical chemistry you had with each other before that night, and since then, you have used approximately 47 boxes of condoms and counting. It was great stress relief for both of you, and it was a no-strings-attached agreement… unfortunately, it became quite clear that there were at least a few strings there.

The thing is… neither of you knew how to bring it up. For some reason, you both thought that it might not be the best time to talk about deep feelings when he was balls-deep in your throat, gently thrusting into your mouth and moaning as he felt you gag on his cock.

He has ranted about it to Trey, much to the baker’s dismay. He did not want to know about what you both did in your own time. However, he had no idea how to tell you that he loved you. That he wanted you for more than just your body. That he wanted to cuddle after having sex with you rather than get dressed and do the messy walk of shame back to Heartslabyul.

One day, however, you both were trying something out in bed… bondage. His hands were tied to the headboard as you rode him into oblivion. His fucked out face was one that you had many pictures of… but you never posted them. They were just for you.

Anyway, he was babbling complete nonsense, his dick being gripped tightly by your warmth as you ground your hips down. “I love you…” He muttered softly in-between whimpers, “Seven, I fucking love you… fuck… keep going, baby…”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately stop your ministrations. “What did you say, Cater?” His own eyes widen in response as he realized what he said, and he felt his heart thud harshly against his chest. “Uhh… Nothing! I said nothing! Who said anything about ‘love’? That’s crazy talk! You know me: Cray-cray Cay-Cay!”

However, you quickly shut him up by kissing his lips passionately, breaking one of the few rules the both of you set. It didn’t seem like Cater had any issue with this rule-breaking either, especially since he reciprocated and moaned against your lips as you continued riding him.

“I love you, too,” You whispered against his lips, “Shit!... I love you, Cater…”

Soon, he spilled his load into the condom, and you pulled yourself off of him and collapsed beside him, when he got up to dispose of the rubber. Then, he giggled excitedly as he climbed into bed next to you.

For now, this would remain private between the two of you, as well as Trey because Cater needs to tell someone, but neither of you could be happier with how your relationship shifted.

Rook Hunt

Your… relationship… with the French hunter started in Potionology. Your friends fucked up a potion and it spilled on you. With your luck, it turned out to be an aphrodisiac, and so Professor Crewel sent you back to Ramshackle to sleep it off.

Rook noticed that you weren’t running your usual errands, so he asked Ace, Deuce, and Grim for your whereabouts. When they explained to him what happened, his eyes widened in surprise and he immediately rushed to Ramshackle to help you out. Obviously, neither of you knew about the other’s feelings, but you were more than happy to have his help.

That day was when you realized that 1) he was wonderful in bed and 2) he had a stupidly large dick that hit everything it needed to. Let’s not even mention how good his hands are.

Anyway, even when the aphrodisiac wore off, you both still found reasons to find privacy together. You wanted to get dicked down, and Rook was more than happy to oblige as he loved you and your body. The other people on campus were more than happy about this arrangement too, since it meant that Rook didn’t have time to stalk them.

However, this friends-with-benefits relationship wasn’t like anything else. Rook, in every sense of the term, ‘made love’ to you. He was gentle and attentive, putting your pleasure above all else. He wanted to be your toy that would bring you pleasure. It made him feel good knowing that he made you feel good.

One day, after a rather intimate session together, you were both laying in your bed as you discussed things you would like to try with him. When you brought up a possible threesome in the future, he tensed up.

“Non, ma chérie. I do not much like the idea of sharing you with anyone else,” He admitted, looking into your eyes.

His words made your heart flutter, and the butterflies got worse as he leaned in to kiss you. However, you made no move to back away, and reciprocated it instead.

When you both pulled away, you both smiled happily at each other before settling back under the covers to get some rest.

[makiquas]

Its Butchtober. Bear with me for a second as I rant about children's cartoon ships, butchphobia, the conditional acceptance of butches in sapphic spaces on the basis of desirability, and feeling erased as a butch kid.

It's so funny that I realised early on as a 2000-2010s teen/kid how a lot of so called "sapphics" of social media are really, really anti butch4butch, only by interacting with certain subsets of Catradora and Appledash haters. It may be flippant to connect butchphobia with children's cartoons, but you cannot deny it is there. We finally had two canon butch4butch and masc4masc lesbian animated ships. And the fandoms decided that the best possible reaction to this is to violently hate on the ships for bullshit reasons and write up masterdocs about how the butch character actually looks better with a femme character instead (in both cases–Rarity and Glimmer, who is arguably feminine but not femme, but that's a conversation for another day, how the SPOP fandom waters down gender identities for aesthetics).

This is not just about two cartoon ships; this mindset of seeing two masc lesbians and immediately going "actually they act like bros; but this BUTCHFEMME couple has real chemistry" comes off sounding really, really bad in 2024 when you have no idea how butch identity operates, outside of depicting us as pants-wearing sexually aggressive muscular women. Butches ARE bros, even the ones who kiss each other. Camaraderie and tomboyish swagger *is* a part of their life. It's not our fault you are too fanfic trope-pilled to read these interactions are sexless friendship bantering.

It's also quite concerning, given how there are only a handful of butch4butch books in the market, and almost all of them talk about the stigmatizing of relationships between two butches/studs/masc lesbians. There are many butch lesbians who themselves face internalized butchphobia because of societal standards and expectations of being turned into the "gallant" provider of femmes. Butch and femme are not always inherently complementary, butches can be attracted to other butches, there is no "natural order" model of lesbian/sapphic attraction and your thinly veiled butchphobia is really off-putting, given you guys don't seem to extend that same rhetoric to mascfemme ships like Korrasami or Caitvi, or femme-femme ships like Harlivy.

Here, I must mention relationships like Rei and Kaoru from Oniisama E, or Jess and Lupe from A League of Their Own, who have bucket loads of chemistry but still have some vehement antis only because both the lesbians are masculine. (What's funny is the new wave of lesbian Oniisama E fans are almost all Rei/Kaoru shippers despite the show putting them into two butchfemme pairings.) Something something to be butch4butch is to be failing the tests of palatability and desirability according to conventional models of societal norms. Forever.

Again, one may have valid reasons for disliking these fictional ships (what, I genuinely don't know). But it *is* weird that you guys can watch fifty white fem4fem sapphic shows in a year and read 100+ GL with the same feminine girlish blonde and brunette/pink haired archetype and not bat an eyelid, but conjure a world of made-up "platonic" dynamics just because you read every butch4butch interaction as fundamentally platonic.

A lot of you love to throw around Stone Butch Blues as a catchphrase to educate strangers on the internet about 1950s-70s blue-collar bar culture and USA butch femme history, but how many of you actually know that within the book itself, the lead character acts prejudiced and hates on another butch for being butch4butch? How many of you know that she apologizes to her friend at the end for her hateful remarks? Fun fact: when you ostracize a butch for not fitting into your butch-femme subculture aesthetic, you're no better than lesbiphobic bigots actually.

Anyway, here are some butch4butch resources if you are a baby butch4butch and feel alienated by these kinds of weird rhetoric in online and fandom queer spaces too:

Butch4Butch romance books

My Butch4Butch books masterdoc (**being updated regularly**)

Leo Wilder's Butch4Butch writing (18+)

Butch4Butch photography archive (insta)

Boyish² Butch4Butch yuri anthology (insta)

@milsae Butch4Butch artist (tumblr/insta)

This post is made by a trans masc butch of color. Terfs, racists, biphobes and radfems kindly do not derail or interact.

[thefudge]

haven’t watched s4 of the umbrella academy but i know five and lila kissing there omg if only every tv show and book have listened to our weird ships…

okay so i spent the last few hours speed-running through this season and OH MY GOD not only did they pay attention to our weird ship, but it's like INCREDIBLE levels of fanfic!!! like, the YEARNING alone??? like, okay, the writers did the "stuck in a time bubble together" bonding/romance storyline, but what i loved about it is they planted the seeds early in the season with lila not only feeling stuck in her marriage but sneaking out and running into five and having fun with him sleuthing just like in past seasons!!! like, it's not just "we're only now seeing each other's potential because we're stuck in the subway" it's more like "we've always been kindred spirits and now we have some down time to really let that sink in". it feels like the culmination of their evolution from enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers??? like all that friction from past seasons finally coming to fruition. hell, at one point five even straight up tells her diego can't give her what she needs??? like, they're admitting they're happier together and fit better together, in and outside of the time loop!!! and i love love LOVE the writers for not doing the super tired switcheroo where, once lila returns to diego and her family she suddenly realizes the whole thing with five was a fever dream. NO!!! no no no, all the feelings are still there like AAAAH it's such good angst, because she keeps exchanging loaded and uncomfortable glances with five while diego is trying to hold her/kiss her??? and five looks SO upset??? it's ao3 levels of delicious drama!!!! diego even asks her if she loves five and she CANNOT deny it, and her whole family and kids are right there but!!!! they still have these feelings and i love how shameless the show is about it!!! one of the big subplots of the final episode is lila having to give up her family to sacrifice herself, but it's also framed as her choosing five and just sort of collapsing in his arms telling him she hates him for this??? and he says "i know"??? HELLO??? also just the yearning and pining even mid-apocalypse!!!! five can't focus on anything else except her, literally they're all about to die but their lil drama is still going on!!!! (complete with diego and five punching each other and rolling on the floor fighting over lila!!!!) it's SO good. also props to the five actor for truly LOCKING IN and just leaning so much into the yearning. every second he looks at lila it's like she hung the moon and he is dying to be with her. i JUSTTTTTTT and the fact that lila hates bracelets and she didn't wear the one diego got her for valentine's, but she wears five's???? and loves it??? and he made it out of all the scrap metal for her???? soooo many little moments like that!!! when he says "i aim to please" kneeling in front of her????? when he says "you know why" when she asks him why he kept the notebook with the escape plan from her!!!!! he just wanted to be with her forever in the greenhouse timeline GAAAAAH. like, this is now gonna be my standard for "non-canonical ships that didn't seem like they could ever have a chance but became canon anyway"!!! cuz usually we clock the chemistry and the banter and the connection but we have to make do with our lil AUs because we know the writers wouldn't dare. but they did!!! they did it this time!!! GOD BLESS i feel so validated in this chili's tonight!!!

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 5: Fracture

You and Joel try to find a balance in your relationship in Los Angeles. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Very mild violence. Masturbation. Description of porn. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 14.3k (IDFK what my problem is)

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Hey, Big Miller!” Tanya yelled toward her living room, wine glass clutched precariously in her grasp.

“Shhh!” You clamped your hand over Tanya’s mouth as she practically cackled. “Will you cool it?” 

She shoved you away playfully. 

“We need a camera man,” she said. “And I don’t think he’s busy.” 

“Can’t we ask one of your security guards?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t think they’re busy, either.” 

“Yes but my security guards aren’t eye candy,” she replied, almost smug. “And they’re in the guard shack. So the obvious choice is… Oh, hello Big Miller.” 

Tanya winked at you and you turned to find a surly Joel standing in her massive kitchen, his arms crossed and a fed up look on his face. 

“Can I help you.” 

“Yes, actually,” she practically flounced over to him. “We are making a TikTok…” 

“No,” Joel said. 

“Oh, come on,” she waved him off. “You’re no fun!” 

“Ain’t paid to be fun,” Joel said. “Now if you two aren’t running off somewhere crazy, think I’ll get back to…” 

“We just need a camera man,” Tanya said, putting a hand in the middle of his back and guiding him further into her kitchen. “All you have to do is press record, hold the phone and press stop.” 

Joel looked to you like he was asking for an out and, given the new, strangely kind balance to your relationship, you wished you could give him one. 

But… you did need a camera man. 

“Ellie wanted us to make a video,” you said and Joel sighed and held out his hand for Tanya’s phone, just like you knew he would as soon as you mentioned your niece. 

Tanya squealed and clapped for a moment before walking him through what she wanted him to do. 

“Alright,” he sighed as Tanya took her place next to you. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Joel was a surprisingly good sport about the whole thing, stopping and starting the recording again and again as you and Tanya swapped places and did ridiculous looking dances and you couldn’t help but laugh when you were supposed to be standing still as your friend did her part. 

“Thank you, Big Miller,” Tanya said, taking the phone back when the two of you couldn’t think of any other stupid dances to do. “We appreciate your contribution to our art.” 

“Something tells me that isn’t going to win either of y’all one of those fancy trophies,” he said before looking to you. “Should leave soon. You’ve got early shit tomorrow.” 

“So bossy,” Tanya winked at him. Joel rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, he’s like that,” you smiled at him a little. “But we have to let him control what he can otherwise he gets grumpy.” 

“Well I guess we do have to let the men be men occasionally,” she smiled at him again before looking to you. “Do I get to see you again this trip or no?” 

“Probably not,” you said, scrunching your nose at that. “I’ve got more chemistry reads tomorrow morning, Kimmel in the afternoon, meetings in the evening, premiere the next day, flying home the day after that.” 

“Ugh, home in Texas,” she made a face. “LA is way better.” 

“I’m sorry, which of us has been on tour for the better part of a year?” You teased. “Not like you’re here for me to hang out with anyway.” 

“Hey, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” she elbowed you lightly and you laughed before you both sighed. “I’m going to miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you, too,” you smiled a little. “You can always come visit in Texas, you know.” 

“Might take you up on that,” she smiled back.

Tanya loaded you down with two dozen cookies before you left and you couldn’t help but smile a little as Joel drove the two of you back to your house. 

“Thank you,” you said, looking over at him in the glow of the street lights. “For the TikTok thing, I mean.” 

“Not the end of the world,” Joel shrugged. “Don’t understand it for shit but…” 

You smiled a little and opened the cookie tin, holding it out to Joel, who glanced at it as he drove. 

“C’mon,” you shook the tin at him, making the cookies inside rattle. “You know you want one.” 

“Can’t believe you just go over to some pop star’s house to bake cookies,” he muttered, reaching over and grabbing one, taking a bite and chewing for a moment. “And they’re fuckin’ good, too, that’s even worse…” 

You just smirked, closing the tin with a satisfying snap, looking out the window as Joel drove you home. 

It had been a strange few days since the lunch with Henry. You’d been busy - which you had expected, cramming weeks worth of meetings and outings into just a few days - and Joel had been a surprisingly comfortable companion for the whole of it. 

He sat there, watching stoically from the corner as you read lines with the actors vying to be the romantic lead in Savage Starlight. He didn’t complain about the swarms of paparazzi and fans when you went to do interviews. He even kept whatever complaints he had to himself when you went for a fitting for your dress for the premiere and your stylist, Frank, dragged him in to get feedback from a man on the fit of your bodice. 

“What was your name again, I’m sorry,” Frank asked as he stood there with his hands on your sides. 

He sighed. 

“Joel.” 

“Joel,” Frank said. “Right. Well, Joel, since I’m pretty sure you’re straight given -“ he gestured toward Joel as a whole “- that, what do you think? Should we have it sit here…” 

“Frank,” you said, half pleading, half knowing it was a lost cause. “Please leave him out of this…” 

“Honey, if you won’t listen to me, listen to him,” he said, adjusting the bodice and turning his attention back to Joel. “Do you want to fuck her more with it here?” 

He adjusted it again, making it so your breasts were higher, more ample. You sighed. 

“Or here?” He said, looking at Joel. “Be honest.” 

Joel’s eyes darted to you, wide and almost afraid. 

“I… uh…” 

“He doesn’t want to fuck me at all, Frank,” you said, rolling your eyes, your hands on your hips. 

He rolled his back.

“Please, everyone wants to fuck you.” 

“You don’t.” 

“Yeah, that’s because I want to fuck him,” he jerked his head toward Joel.

“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to tell Bill that,” you teased, barely holding back a smirk. “Tell him you’re out here…” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“…checking out bodyguards…” 

“Please don’t.” 

“…causing problems…” 

“Do you really think that paranoid old man could cope if he knew I was hanging out with that walking wet dream?” Frank asked, brows raised. “Please. For both our sakes, save me the fight and keep it to yourself and you,” he rounded on Joel. “Tell her the truth, that you want to fuck her more when the girls are higher.” 

“Can you promise me I won’t have a nip slip on the red carpet if you shove my boobs up to the sky?” You said before Joel had a chance to stumble his way through another response. “Because Quinn might kill me if I do.”

“Do you really think I’d let that happen?” He asked, brows raised. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll put some pasties on the girls, that way if your tits find some way to defy the laws of physics - which, if anyone’s could, it’s yours - you’re not really flashing the whole world.” 

“Very considerate,” you said wryly, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “Then sure, put my tits under my chin if that will bring you joy.” 

“You’re my favorite client for a reason,” he said, going about pinning the dress into place and you bit back a smile as Joel stood there, his hands in his pockets as he stared determinedly off to the side his eyes darting back your way every half minute or so. 

Joel had even been a pleasant presence at home. You’d FaceTimed Ellie the night before while you sat at your kitchen island with a glass of wine, just nodding along and listening to her talk about her day, trying not to dwell too much on the little mannerisms she had that reminded you of Anna. Joel came in - you weren’t sure why, his hand running absently over the granite counter before rapping his knuckles on it and Ellie spotted him then, perking up even more when she did. 

“Hey, Big Miller!” She called in a sing-songy voice. 

Joel came up behind you, tall and broad at your back, leaning down to get in the frame of the camera of your iPad. 

“Hey Trouble,” he said, teasing Ellie with her own code name. “Been keeping your nose clean for your grandmother? Behaving for Seth?” 

“No,” she smirked. “But remember that one debate I had coming up?” 

“I do.” 

“Well, I did it,” she said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “And I won.” 

“You did?” He asked, pride in his voice. Ellie nodded eagerly. “Knew you could, that smart mouth of yours.” 

“I kicked his ass,” she said happily. 

“Was it that one kid?” Joel asked. “The asshole?”

“Yup,” Ellie beamed. “And I made him look like a fucking idiot.” 

“Ellie!” You scolded. 

“Sorry, Sissy,” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Joel. “Freaking idiot.”

Joel snorted. 

“Good for you, kiddo,” he said. “Knew you could do it.” 

Once you finished up the call with Ellie, you went and found Joel. He’d taken to spending time by the pool since the night he’d found you there. Sometimes he had a book, sometimes he just watched the water, his hands folded between his knees looking like he was lost in thought. He was there then, too, watching the water this time with a bottle of beer at his feet. 

“Hey,” you said, knowing better than to approach him silently. 

He looked back over his shoulder to you. 

“Hey,” he said before looking back at the water. 

You came and sat next to him, watching the light ripple in silence for a moment. 

“Think Ellie misses you,” you said, glancing to him as you did. He just grunted. “It sounds like she talks with you…” 

“We got time when I take her to school,” Joel said, almost defensively. 

“I know,” you said quickly, gently. “I just… I appreciate it. You being nice to her, I mean.” 

“Oh,” he said. 

“She needs that,” you continued. “Her dad was never in her life, it was always just her mom, Elise and me and now… She needs as many people as she can to care about her. She’s been through a lot. I’m glad she has someone else she can talk to like that.” 

“She’s a good kid,” Joel said, staring at the water. “Don’t mind.” 

You nodded silently. 

“Puns are awful though,” he said after a moment, smiling ever so slightly. 

You laughed. 

“God, they really are,” you said. “She has a book of them.”

He looked at you then. 

“Who the hell’s idea was that?” He asked. 

You laughed again. 

“She picked it up at school a few years ago, one of those book fair things. I think she memorized it.” 

“Jesus,” Joel laughed and then sighed. “Guess we’ll never be free of ‘em.” 

“No,” you smiled a little. “Guess we won’t.” 

It had become a strange balance. Not quite friends, not quite… whatever you’d been before. Some odd middle ground where you cared what he thought and found a disorienting comfort in his presence without the kindness of any affection. 

Your phone lit up, a link from Tanya. You followed it and watched the video on TikTok, posted for not even five minutes and already thousands of likes. You smiled at it, the look on your own face as you tried not to laugh at your friend’s ridiculous dance moves and your own clumsy, erratic movements when it was your turn funnier than you’d realized. 

“That the video?” Joel asked as you sat at a red light. 

“Yeah,” you said, holding the phone out to him just as it looped. He watched for a moment, an almost serious expression on his face before it seemed like he was biting back a smile, shaking his head a little. You laughed. “You liked it!” 

“I don’t really get it,” he said, giving you a look before the light turned green and he started driving again. “But… yeah, alright, it was kinda funny. Didn’t think you celebrities really did that kind of shit, though.” 

“Why not?” You asked, going to repost the video on your own feed and texting Quinn to tell her that you had so she wasn’t caught off guard by it. 

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just… seems like it’s beneath you.” 

You frowned a little. 

“You do realize we’re just people, right?” You said. “We just happen to do jobs that make us famous.” 

“I know,” Joel said. “Still. Feels weird.” 

You laughed a little at that. Yeah, fame was weird. 

“Ellie seen the video yet?” He asked, glancing your way quickly. 

“She’d better be in bed,” you said. “It’s almost 2 a.m. in Texas. But I’ll send it to her in the morning.” 

“She do one, too?” Joel asked. 

“She did,” you said, smiling a little and going to Ellie’s TikTok - which you’d insisted be locked down to hell and back so paparazzi couldn’t take advantage of it - and pulling up the video. Joel parked in your driveway and you handed him your phone, pressing play for him and watched as he smiled a little as Ellie and her friend Dina did different crazy dances in a classroom at school to the same song you had. 

“Looks like she’s makin’ friends,” Joel said, giving you back your phone. He didn’t wait for a response, getting out of the car. You sat and waited patiently for him to come to your side of the car - a safety protocol that felt excessive but you went with it - before getting out yourself. “That’s good. Can be hard for kids that age now, especially at a new school.” 

“Yeah,” you said, frowning slightly at him and biting your tongue. How would he know about kids that age? You weren’t sure of his exact age but you were pretty sure he was a few years older than you and it’s not like he had kids. 

“Driver’ll be here early,” he said once you were both safely inside and you set the cookies down in the kitchen. “Any itinerary changes I should know about?” 

“Nope,” you said. “Just going to be a busy day for me with a lot of sitting around for you. Might want to bring your book.” 

“Be sure to keep myself entertained,” he said wryly, opening the tin and getting out another cookie.

You smiled. 

“Goodnight, Big Miller.” 

“Night, Siren.” 

You brought a bag with you the next day. 

You’d done enough shit like this in your time - days where you had to run from place to place at almost breakneck speed, places where you knew you’d be photographed to hell and back and others where you had some semblance of privacy and you knew you’d be desperate for some comfort - that you knew how to plan for it. 

Joel sat up front with the driver, leaving you in the back seat alone and you sent the TikTok to Ellie, telling her you hoped she had a good day at school and that you were excited to see her in a few days. You took a few minutes to review the lines you were working with that day, making sure you were comfortable with the ones you’d be reading with the kids. You always remembered your first line readings with grown ups once you were actually old enough to fully understand what was going on, how some made you feel at ease and some made your stomach churn and skin crawl. You always wanted to be the comfortable person for these kids. You hadn’t worked with many children in adulthood but it always felt strange when you did, some twinge in you that made it seem like you were watching your younger self but not able to stop what was coming.

“Doomed by the narrative,” you muttered to yourself, skimming the lines of the girl who would play your childhood self.  

“Hm?” Joel said back over his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” you said, locking the iPad as the car pulled up to the studio gate. “Just running lines.” 

There were four kids you were reading with but one that you’d been told was the favorite and she was reading last. 

All the kids were talented, you’d give them that. Of course, they had to be to make it this far. They were all 10 to 12 years old, all excited to be there, all somewhat accustomed to this life already. But you posed for pictures with them anyway - the photos going on their agents’ phones so they couldn’t post them before they were allowed to - and performed your lines in all the different ways the casting director asked. 

Eventually, the last girl came in, a sense of nervous, almost frantic energy pouring off of her, something that seemed so far away but so familiar from your childhood. 

“Can I see her resume?” You asked the casting director quietly as the production assistant went over things with the girl. 

“Sure,” she said, rifling through a small pile before handing it over. You reviewed it quickly and found what you expected - some commercial work, a three episode arc on a sitcom, no film. She was just 12 years old and new to this. You slid the resume back and went over to the girl who, you had to admit, looked a lot like you.

She was staring at you, her eyes a little wide and you tried not to laugh. Instead, you smiled and held out your hand, introducing yourself. 

“Yeah,” she said, a little awed. “I know.” 

“Thought you might,” you smiled a little wider. “What’s your name?” 

“Catherine,” she said. “Catherine Ford.” 

“It’s nice to meet you Catherine,” you said. “Want to run some lines with me, see how we do?” 

She nodded quickly and you showed her where to stand in front of the camera that was capturing your line reads for the director to watch later. 

“Let’s go from from the top,” the casting director said, giving you a nod. “Get us started.” 

You just nodded and found the character quickly, falling into her headspace, making your eyes meet the girl who was yourself. 

“Who are you?” You asked, a panicky edge to your voice. 

“Don’t you know?” She asked in response, cocking her head slightly to match your own. “I’m you.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you’re not real, you…” 

“I am,” she said, all calm and wise. “I’m you and I know that you… I… crud…” 

Her face scrunched and she looked down to the paper in her hands. 

“Keep going,” the casting director said to you. “Lead her in.” 

You nodded, taking a moment to reset and looking at Catherine.

“That’s not possible,” you said again. “You’re not real, you…” 

“Don’t you know?” She said and then her face fell. “Crap, I’m sorry!” 

“It’s OK,” you smiled gently. “Want to go again?” 

“Is that OK?” She asked. You just nodded and she sighed. “OK, cool. I’ll get it this time!” 

“From ‘that’s not possible,’ please,” the casting director said and you obeyed, but Catherine missed her cue to cut in that time, freezing in the moment and then looking like she was about to cry. 

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I promise, I know my lines, I was up so late practicing, I won’t mess up like this if you actually cast me, I…” 

The casting director got up but you held out a hand, keeping her where she was. 

“Catherine?” You cut her off before she had a full blown panic attack. “It’s OK. Did you warm up before you came in today?” 

“No,” she sniffled a little. “No, I should have, and…” 

“Hey, I’m not criticizing you,” you smiled gently. “Even if you had, it’s probably been long enough since you left your house that it wouldn’t make a difference now anyway. Why don’t we take a minute, warm up, then try again. Sound good?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, that would be great.” 

“OK,” you said. “Any warm ups you really like?” 

“Um,” she thought for a second. “To sit in solemn silence? Do you know that one?” 

You smiled a little wider. 

“Good pick,” you said. “One of my favorites. Want to start or do you want me to?” 

“Can you?” She asked. “I never have to…” 

“Of course,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Ready? To sit in solemn silence on a dull, dark dock…” 

You did a few warm ups with her, helping her loosen up and get relaxed before you got set to go again, tension coming back into her small shoulders as she got set for the next try. 

“Hey,” you said gently. Her eyes met yours. “It’s OK. Just you and me, two actors doing our thing, OK?” 

She smiled a little at that. 

“OK.” 

She seemed to take that to heart, hitting every word that time, the two of you falling into that rare space where you felt truly connected, that you were inhabiting these characters, building tension, pulling these feelings from each other and laying them bare. It was a space that was hard to find, you couldn’t do it with every actor, and this 12-year-old girl had managed it. 

The room was silent for a moment when the scene wrapped but then the casting director clapped, you and Catherine both turning to look at her, Catherine beaming. 

“Beautiful,” she said. “That was great, really really great.” 

The two of you did a few other scenes, Catherine finding her groove more and more each time and you couldn’t help but marvel at her talent. She had raw skill that many of your contemporaries would kill for, skill that she’d only hone over time. She was going to be an incredible actor if this industry didn’t destroy her first. 

“Who brought you here today?” You asked Catherine when the read was over, the casting director already talking conspiratorially with her assistant. 

“My mom,” she said. “She’s in the waiting room.” 

“Can I meet her?” You asked. 

“Yeah!” She said eagerly. “She’d love that!” 

 You flagged Joel down from his spot in the corner and followed her there, her mom jumping up when she saw her come through the door. 

“Hey kiddo!” She said excitedly, hugging her daughter. “How’d it go?” 

She noticed you then, her eyes going a little wide at the sight of you. 

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m…” 

“I know,” she cut you off, her eyes still wide but going somehow wider. “Oh my God, that was probably so rude, I’m sorry!” 

You laughed. 

“It’s fine,” you said. “Honestly, if it didn’t make me feel like such a self-centered jerk, my life would probably be a lot easier if I just assumed everyone knew who I was. You’re Catherine’s mom?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Margie.” 

“Hi Margie,” you said. “It’s good to meet you. Catherine is really incredible, you know.” 

“I know,” Margie said, tugging her daughter against her side and giving her a squeeze. “Trust me, we wouldn’t even be trying this if she wasn’t. She just begged and begged for years and eventually it was so obvious she was so good that we should at least give it a shot.” 

Catherine beamed at that and you smiled, the familiar pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you swallowed as you did. Her mother seemed nothing like your own. 

“I took a look at her resume, looks like you’re pretty new?” You asked and Margie nodded. “Well, getting started is hard, there’s a lot to navigate. Can I see your phone?” 

She all but dove into her pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. 

You entered your number, saving it with your first name and last initial. 

“Don’t share that around,” you said, giving Margie her phone back. “But if you need anything - anything at all - give me a call or a text. Alright?” 

“We gotta go,” Joel said quietly behind you. “Cutting it close.” 

You just nodded before turning to Catherine. 

“It was really great working with you today,” you smiled. 

“You too,” she said, smiling hugely. 

“Looking forward to doing it again soon,” you said, giving her a hug and a wave before going back to the audition room. Your bag was in the corner and you grabbed it before going to the casting director. 

“I want Catherine,” you said, already going through your bag for your makeup kit. 

“She was very strong,” she replied. “But she had the shaky start and…” 

“No,” you said, cutting her off. “She’s it. No one else came close. Not trying to tell you how to do your job but it’s Catherine. She’s just green but she’s young, she’ll get used to it quick. Trust me.” 

She considered you for a moment. 

“Alright,” she sighed eventually. “She was the top pick going into today but if we need to recast because she can’t hack it…” 

“We won’t,” you said. “I’ll make sure she’s got what she needs.” 

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll confirm with the director but we’ll get her.” 

You got changed into something far less comfortable than the leggings and sweatshirt you’d been wearing but looked way better for TV - Frank putting together a pair of velvet wide-legged trousers and matching jacket with a mesh turtleneck - and did your makeup and hair as quickly as you could before rushing to the car, Joel on high alert any time you were outside. 

“You were good with her,” he said once you were safely underway. 

“Hm?” 

“The girl,” Joel said, his voice gruff. “You were good with her. She was nervous, I could tell.” 

“Oh,” you said, watching the back of his head in front of you, as if that would tell you anything about what he was thinking. “Yeah. I just remember what it was like to audition like that. It’s lot of pressure.” 

“Can’t imagine doin’ that to a kid,” he said harshly. “Should get to just be a kid.” 

“There’s a reason I don’t want Ellie growing up here,” you said, looking out the window at the city going by. “Don’t want her getting any ideas.” 

The car pulled up to the theater, a hoard of people outside the doors waiting for you. 

“Ready?” Joel asked over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting yours, something about the depth of his gaze making it impossible to look away. 

“Ready,” you said. 

He got out first and he tried to rush you through the crowd but you saw a little girl who had to be about seven or eight - wearing a t-shirt with the duck you’d voiced years ago, when Ellie was about her age - watching you with hopeful eyes. 

“Hi there,” you smiled, getting down on her level. “What’s your name?”

“Parker,” she said, smiling hugely, one of her front teeth missing. 

“Hi Parker,” you smiled back. “It’s so nice to meet you! I really like your shirt.” 

“It’s my favorite movie!” She said excitedly. 

“You have excellent taste,” you said with a wink. You nodded to the piece of paper clutched to her chest. “What do you have there?” 

Her face lit up for a moment and she thrust the paper at you. 

“It’s my drawing!” She said. “I did it myself!” 

You took it and looked down at it, a childish, colored pencil version of the duck you’d played there on the page. 

“Parker, this is so good!” You said, smiling at her. “You’re such a good artist! Is that what you’re in school for right now? Art? What college do you go to?” 

“I don’t go to college!” She laughed. 

“You don’t!” You gasped in mock surprise. “What! How old are you? 20? 21?” 

“I’m seven!” She beamed. 

“Oh, my goodness,” you said, looking back at the paper. “You were such a good artist and so grown up I figured you were much older.” 

You gave her the paper back

“Can you sign it for me?” She asked, holding it out with a pen. 

“Well, the artist is usually the one to sign their work,” you said. “But… I’ll sign it if you do, too.” 

She beamed at that and you let her use your back to sign her name on her drawing before passing it off to you. You signed it, too, and gave it back before taking a selfie with her mom’s phone. 

“Alright,” Joel said when you stood up again, his face drawn tight, his hand on the middle of your back. “Let’s get you inside, fuckin’ sitting ducks out here.” 

“Oh, we’re fine,” you waved him off, going back to the crowd and taking selfies and signing autographs as you worked your way into the theater. 

“You like trying to give me a damn heart attack?” He asked once you were inside. 

“Everyone needs a hobby,” you said wryly as Quinn rushed over to you with a production assistant at her back. “Should try getting one yourself, you know.” 

“Jesus,” he muttered, rolling his eyes but following you to the greenroom all the same. 

Quinn reviewed the final topics for the interview and you said hi to Jimmy before getting ready to go on stage and put on a show. 

Doing interviews like this one still felt odd to you. Not because they were unusual - you’d gotten used to the talk show circuit by this point in your career - but because of their very nature. The illusion of some intimate conversation between friends on display for the few hundred strangers in the same room and then broadcast for all the world to see. 

You’d crafted a version of yourself for times like this, one that was built to appeal to an audience and seem genuine and real, some artificial sheen to wrap yourself up in that you slipped into like any other character. This one, though, grated on you. The strange dishonesty of it, the character you were playing yourself instead of the creation of someone else.

The interview went along like any other for a while, the two of you bantering back and forth and you sharing funny stories from set that sounded off the cuff but were actually carefully rehearsed to make sure you and your costars’ stories aligned. 

“Speaking of Chris,” Jimmy said as your time was running down and the audience was quieting after another bout of laughter. “I do have to talk about one thing with him.” 

“Just one?” You teased and he laughed. 

“Well, plenty,” he said. “But did you know that you and Chris are going viral?” 

“No,” you laughed. “But I’m sure my publicist does and she’s thrilled. What are we going viral for?” 

“There was a moment in an interview this week,” Jimmy said. “I think we have it…” 

The screen behind you changed and the moment from the junket days earlier played, you and Chris sitting side by side as he started on his rant, one that you’d thought would never see the light of day. 

“First of all, my costar here is the most beautiful woman on the planet and the single most talented actor I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with so you will treat her with the respect she’s due…”

You sat there, cheeks getting hot, pressing your fingers into your thigh, nervous energy making your stomach turn as you watched Chris lay into the reporter. You’d hoped that this clip had been squashed by his publicist, that the reporter honing in on one of your lowest points wouldn’t be put out for all the world to consume. Apparently not.

“That’s all it takes to go viral now, eh?” You joked as the video ended. Jimmy chuckled lightly but no one in the audience laughed. 

“You’ve got to admit, that was a pretty great moment,” he said. “But I was wondering what you thought of it.” 

“I think Chris has a way with words that I can’t quite match,” you smiled a small but tight smile. “And I think if I say anything different, he might go off on me next.” 

That did get some laughs and you laughed with the audience, hoping that you looked playful and fun, not tense and ready to crawl out of your skin. 

“Well we don’t want that,” Jimmy laughed. “Thanks so much for coming on and everyone, go see As We Know It, out Friday!” 

You waved your goodbyes and looked stage right, oddly comforted by Joel’s commanding presence there, his face firm as he watched you. You walked right for him as you left the stage, one of his arms going around you as you came alongside him, something grounding in his touch as he ushered you away. 

“You’re OK,” he said quietly, guiding you toward the door you came in. 

You frowned and looked at him, Joel glancing your way as you did.

“You’re stressed,” he said. “I can tell. I’ve got you.” 

You did a more abbreviated run of the crush of fans this time, stopping for a few selfies and signing a few pictures, but not lingering, instead moving as quickly as you could for the car without looking like you were rushing. 

Joel didn’t get in the front seat this time, instead climbing in back with you. You frowned as he did but he just ordered the driver to start toward the restaurant where you were meeting with producers. 

“You alright?” Joel asked after the car was out of sight from the crowd outside the theater, his eyes oddly soft and open. “That was shitty, them springin’ that on you.” 

“It happens,” you said, looking back at him as intently as he seemed to be looking at you. “I should be used to it. I am usually, but…” 

“Shouldn’t need to be,” he said. “They should act better.” 

You watched him for a moment, trying to puzzle him out but couldn’t see past his stern face with the strangely open eyes. You didn’t understand him. You weren’t sure you ever would. 

“I’ll be fine,” you said when you’d been quiet a little too long. “But thank you.” 

He frowned. 

“For what.” 

“Caring,” you shrugged. “Not many people do. But I’m afraid I need you to look out that window for a minute.” 

His frown deepened. 

“I need to change,” you said. “Shouldn’t be photographed in the same thing this many times so look out that way, please.” 

His jaw quirked but he obeyed, shaking his head a little as he did. 

“Shouldn’t be photographed at all,” he muttered, arms crossed tightly over his chest as you got a pair of black leather pants out of your bag and set them on the seat between you and Joel.

“Probably right,” you said, shrugging out of the jacket and adjusting yourself so you could slide your pants down and off, leaving you just in the mesh top. “But comes with the territory.” 

You dropped the clothes you’d shed beside you, the velvet of the fabric brushing Joel’s arm and he glanced toward you - just a reaction, you told yourself - before he jerked his head back to look out the window again. 

“Oh don’t act like half the planet hasn’t seen me half naked,” you rolled your eyes as you got into the leather pants, a task that was easier said than done in the back seat of an SUV. “I promise, I won’t bite.” 

“Right,” he muttered. 

You got the pants into place and pulled out another jacket, draping it over your shoulders and putting the other clothes away. 

“You’re safe, Big Miller,” your teased, tossing the bag in the trunk. 

“Try to make a habit of not seeing my clients naked,” Joel muttered, settling back into his seat. 

“Sounds boring,” you said. 

He gave you a look and you laughed. 

“Don’t worry,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I don’t think you’re at risk of anyone thinking you’re interested in fucking me. You’re safe.” 

He just grunted and you smiled a little, looking out the window. There was something comfortable when he was like this. You weren’t sure what to do with a Joel who didn’t seem to loathe you, at least a little bit. Even though you wanted him to like you. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you did.

The paparazzi were waiting for you outside the restaurant, too, but you’d been expecting that. Quinn had told them you’d be here and you made sure your pants were actually zipped before getting out and putting on the show you always did, smiling and waving, taking selfies with fans who’d heard you were going to be there, too. 

You kept the show on through dinner, talking with the producers of a period piece you were interested in doing, Joel sitting next to you the entire time, his jaw quirking when Leo joined the table, too. 

But Henry didn’t make a surprise appearance and, after a while, you found yourself relaxing into things, a few too many glasses of wine deep and giggling when you left the restaurant. 

“You got what you need for the premiere?” Quinn asked as you made your way to the door. 

“Frank has a vision,” you said dramatically and Quinn snorted. “Don’t worry, my tits are basically hanging out, the press will love it.” 

“Well I’ll see you there,” she said, kissing you on each cheek. “Need Frank to have a vision for me one of these days.” 

“Call him,” you said eagerly. “I’m sure he’d work his magic! Oh, we could go somewhere matching, that would be fun!” 

“OK, you’re drunk,” Quinn laughed and looked to Joel. “She’s drunk. Make sure she gets out of here safely and doesn’t talk to any of the paps outside?” 

“I’m not drunk!” You protested and Quinn laughed, taking the lapels of your jacket in your hands. 

“You’re drunk,” she said. “And that’s OK, you’ve been doing a lot lately, you deserve to have a little fun. Just don’t make more work for me in the morning when you do. See you tomorrow at the premiere.” 

“The premiere!” You said and she laughed, giving you and Joel a final wave. You turned to Joel. “We know what I’m wearing for the premiere, what are you wearing for the premiere?” 

“No one cares what I wear for shit,” Joel said, nudging you toward the door. “C’mon, driver’s pulling up.” 

“Why wouldn’t they care?” You pouted, looking over your shoulder toward him. “You’re a good looking man, you know.” 

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, shaking his head. 

“What?” You said. “You are! I’m not trying to hit on you but that’s just an objective fact. Even Frank said so.” 

The flashes caught you off guard. You’d forgotten, for a moment, that it seemed like half the planet cared that you’d had dinner here. You smiled and waved and Joel kept you walking straight toward the car, keeping you from stopping and talking to the people screaming your name. 

“That felt rude,” you said once you were in the car and things were quiet again. 

“Too bad,” Joel said, in back beside you again. “Don’t need to be talkin’ to those assholes, anyway.” 

“There were some fans in there, too, I think,” you said, settling down into your seat. “But back to what I was saying.” 

“No,” Joel said simply. “Seatbelt.” 

“What?” You frowned. “What do you mean ‘no’?” 

“I mean, put your seatbelt on,” he said.  

Your frown deepened and you looked around yourself for a moment before Joel made an irritated sound and reached over you, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it into place. 

“OK,” you said, adjusting it and sitting up a little straighter. “Seatbelt’s on. Why can’t we keep talking about it? I’m just saying, you should take the compliment…” 

“Not interested,” Joel said. 

“Oh will you calm down?” You rolled your eyes. “I promise I’m not trying to get you into bed, you’re safe from my scary Siren claws, I just mean if you dress well tomorrow at the premiere people would notice because you’re  a good looking person, that’s all.” 

“It don’t matter because I’m not gonna be seen with you,” Joel said, his voice stern. “I’ll be on the other side of where press and shit are but the carpet will be you, some assistant and that Chris guy. Don’t matter what I’m wearing or how good I do or don’t look, alright? Jesus…” 

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “You really let them talk you into that? I’m shocked.” 

“The premiere’s got it’s own security and it’s actually damn good,” Joel said. “Not good enough for me to just stay home but you’ll be alright. Don’t need me in any more goddamn photos with you than there already are.” 

You watched him for a moment. 

“You still don’t like me, do you?” You asked. 

He frowned, looking at you. 

“Why’s it matter.” 

“I didn’t say it did,” you shrugged. “You just don’t like me.” 

“Don’t need to like you,” he said. “Just need to keep you alive. Besides, the whole damn planet likes you, ain’t that enough?” 

You scoffed. 

“No they don’t.” 

“Yeah?” Joel asked. “What d’you call that shit, the hundreds of people waiting for fucking hours just to catch a glimpse of you if it’s not like.” 

“They don’t like me,” you said. “They don’t know me. They’re obsessed with a commodity. I’m not a person to them, I’m just a weird combination of every part I’ve ever played, every passing idea they’ve decided to assign to me, some idealized creation that doesn’t exist but they’re convinced is real. You know me, at least a little, and you don’t like me.”

“You’re drunk.” 

“I’m right,” you said, your stomach twisting at that. You shouldn’t care what Joel thought of you but you did. There were so few people on this planet who knew you - actually knew you - and he was one of them. And he didn’t see something in you worth liking. 

The car pulled up to your driveway and Joel got out first, going around and opening your door. 

“C’mon,” he said, offering you his hand. “Like you or not, you got an early day.” 

You took his hand - large and warm and secure - and slipped down to the ground, tottering on your heels enough that it made you laugh, Joel steadying you as you went.

“I trust you to actually get yourself to bed?” Joel asked as he led you inside. 

You scoffed. 

“Where else am I gonna go?” 

“Sure you’d find some way to get into trouble,” he replied wryly. 

“I’ll go to bed,” you rolled your eyes. “See you in the morning Big Miller.” 

***

Joel watched you head down the hall, weaving a little as you walked before disappearing into your room, trying not to think about the way the fucking leather pants hugged your ass or the way your hips moved when you walked. 

“Jesus,” he muttered to himself, stalking off to the kitchen to get a water. 

You just don’t like me. 

Lord, how he wished that were true. 

He liked you alright. Far more than he should. Enough that the entire planet’s fucking obsession with you was starting to make sense. 

He tried not to think about that. 

Liking you was not a good idea. It was a completely horrible idea, actually. He wanted to go back to how he felt before he’d come here. It seemed like so long ago now, before he knew about your mom and Elise and Anna, before what you’d told him - and clearly hadn’t - about that fucking producer, before he saw you laughing with a friend or making kids smile just because you could. He wanted to go back to before you were a person - a real person, one with fears and wants and hurts - instead of some rich asshole he could pretend was a different species from himself. 

It wasn’t a good idea to care about you. He had to protect you, he couldn’t be distracted by things like your fucking feelings. Caring about you was dangerous. 

He opened the fridge and went to grab a bottle of water but, instead, took one of the beers that was sitting there. Not that drinking right now was a good idea, either, but fuck it. 

Joel brought the beer to the pool and sat on the edge of it, the glow of your bedroom light almost tempting. The curtain covered the window but he could make out the silhouette of you through the glass and gauzy fabric. You must not have a shirt on, the outline of your breasts clear in the hazy, warm light. He watched for a moment as the outline of you pulled on some baggy piece of fabric, covering yourself, and he forced himself to look back at the water. 

He wasn’t going to think about that. He wasn’t. 

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought about it the day before, too. 

He wasn’t going to admit that he thought he might break his fucking jaw from clenching it as he watched you with the actors during the audition shit the day before. 

You with these men all made for the screen, designed to be your fucking equal in a way he never could be even if he tried - which he wouldn’t because it didn’t matter. They read lines with you and he watched as you looked at them with adoration, touched them with some kind of longing, pressed your body to theirs, arching around them to fit yourself to them like you belonged there. Because you did belong there. If not with these men in particular then with a man like them. Not a man like him.

Not that it mattered. It didn’t fucking matter. 

No, he wasn’t going to think about those things. He wasn’t going to think about the way your tits looked in that fucking dress that Frank had asked his opinion on. He wasn’t going to think about glancing over at you in the car today when he knew he fucking shouldn’t have and seeing you there, half naked in your fucking see through shirt, your thighs looking so warm and welcoming and fucking soft. 

He wasn’t. 

He’d thought about it the night before. He wasn’t proud of that but he had, the image of you getting fitted for the damn dress at the forefront of his mind. It was like his head was a scratched record, skipping over that point in time again and again and again. 

He tried to think about anything else as he stood in the shower that night but fucking couldn’t, his cock half hard as he tried to shove the memory of you away. 

When he went to bed, he caved to his baser instincts. He decided to jerk off. Just to get it out of his system because he couldn’t be still stuck on this the next morning and he didn’t think he could sleep with his balls swollen and aching as they were. 

He tried looking at porn but he couldn’t figure out what the fuck he wanted to watch. He was absently scrolling through a site, nothing standing out until something caught his eye. Your name, on a video. 

He stared at it for a second, your name followed by EVERY SEX SCENE - COMPILATION. 

His mouth went dry. His cock was painfully hard. 

Could he watch that? It’s not like it was really wrong - it wasn’t something that had been shared without your permission and it wasn’t actual porn. It was just something he could see if he went on Netflix right now and sought it out. 

But you hadn’t made it so fucking assholes like him could jerk off to it. And it wasn’t like you were a stranger now, he knew you. Could he do that? 

His dick throbbed at the thought. 

Could he stop himself? 

Joel clicked on the video, his stomach twisting as he pressed play. There was an ad and he read the comments while it played. 

She’s so fucking hot. 

Bet she moans like a whore in real life. 

Fuck I want to choke her out.

She was hotter before, she hit the wall when she hit 30. 

The sound of you moaning in his headphones grabbed his attention, dulling the violent anger that swelling in him when he read what other people said about you. Joel took a shaky breath and made the video full screen. He was already this far down the rabbit hole, he may as well fully commit.

The first chunk of excerpts were from the movie you won the Oscar for and he could only stomach a few seconds of it. You looked disturbingly young to him, just a teenager with a softer version of your face getting on her knees, starting to take off her shirt making him jump ahead. He jumped again when it just felt too strange, watching you start to get undressed or turn around when you were obviously shirtless - seeing your skin this way feeling too keenly wrong. 

It was the last scene in the video that he found himself watching in earnest. It was something more recent, you looked almost the same as you did now, none of the childish softness to your face that had been there in the first scenes. It was a romantic scene, one that was carefully shot so the viewer saw nothing illicit. The curve of your bare waist, the edge of the swell of your breast, a hint of your ass. 

But Joel liked it this way, this moment not tinged with the wrongness the others were. You moaned as your on screen lover pushed inside you - or mimicked it, Joel corrected himself - your fingers spreading wide over the man’s back. 

Joel took his cock in his hand, swallowing hard, his heart beating fast. He worked himself slowly as he watched as the man on screen explored your body, close up shots that revealed nothing interspersed with your face as you gasped in pleasure. 

He let himself get lost in that, in the sounds you made, stroking himself harder, faster. He wanted to make you make those sounds. He wanted to press his lips to the delicate skin of your throat and kiss and lick and suck as he sank inside of you. He wanted his hands to run over the softness of you, to press his firm chest to your plush one and feel your heart beat through your skin. He wanted to feel you swallow him whole, his body slotting into yours as he made you come. 

You moaned and gasped on the video and he let himself pretend that it was for him and he came, imagining it was you and not his own fucking hand he was buried inside as rope after rope of his come spilled over his skin. 

His cheeks got hot as he closed the video and cleaned himself up, a pile of tissues on his nightstand the only sign of his indiscretion. 

He tried to clear his mind as he settled in to sleep, reminding himself of what he already knew: You were not meant for something like him. It didn’t matter what he wanted, you were for someone better than him. You needed someone beautiful like you, someone with money and power and purpose. You deserved someone like you. And he needed to get past that, at least enough that he could do his fucking job and keep you safe. That was all he was good for now. He knew that. 

He tried to remind himself of that again as he sat by the edge of the pool, his mind lingering on you, on your striking beauty and disquieting kindness and keen talent. 

He took a sip of beer. 

It didn’t matter, he told himself. None of it mattered. 

That was the truth of it. Even if you were his equal - even if he was rich and famous or you were just some waitress or school teacher or something besides the most famous woman on earth - it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like he could do anything about it, anyway. 

About a year after he lost Sarah, he’d tried dating. It hadn’t been his idea but Tommy had set him up with a friend of a friend and it hadn’t gone well. Not because she wasn’t a good woman - she was. She was kind, smart, beautiful. 

But it didn’t seem to matter what Joel did, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to really care for her. He liked her well enough. Enjoyed her company and enjoyed her body but any real affection seemed far away. He’d broken it off before things would need to get too serious, just the thought of getting any further involved making his chest get tight and his head swim. He wasn’t meant for things like that anymore. 

He’d left humanity behind when his daughter had. Anything like love and care was closed to him now, he knew that. 

So why did he keep thinking about you? 

He downed the rest of the beer and sighed before getting up, looking toward your window. He watched the outline of you pull back the blankets and climb into your bed before stretching and turning out the lamp. 

He just shook his head and went inside, putting the bottle in the recycling bin before heading to his own room, trying not to think of you lying on the other side of the wall. 

It didn’t make a difference. You were still in his dreams that night. 

You were standing opposite him like you had the men you’d read lines with but, instead of the comfortable clothes you’d worn to the audition, you were in the mesh top you’d had on that day. Just that and your panties, like you’d been in the back seat of the car. 

“Ready?” You asked, your eyes meeting his and he actually let himself look into them now, and how soft and deep they were. You didn’t wait for his response. “I’ll read you in.” 

Your body changed, the physicality of you shifting as you became someone else inside your skin. 

“What are you so afraid of?” You asked, almost forcefully. 

Joel knew his line. He’d heard it enough the day before. 

“You!” He said. “I’m afraid of you, of this power you have… I can’t protect you, I can’t…” 

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you cut him off, stepping closer. “I need you to trust me.” 

You were close enough that you were touching him. 

He knew this part, too, but he didn’t stick to his lines. 

“But I need to protect you,” he said. “It’s all I know how to do, I… I can’t…” 

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, your eyes meeting his, your body arching against his own and he could feel every line of you through his clothes. You moved to kiss him and he went to meet you but you stopped just short, your breath warm on his skin. 

“Why didn’t you protect me, Joel?” You whispered, your lips brushed his as you spoke. 

He frowned, pulling back ever so slightly. 

This wasn’t in the script. 

“You should have saved me,” you said, stepping back from him. 

Suddenly, he was somewhere new with you. The middle of the road, a burning car to one side of you. You stepped back from him again, cradling your arm to your chest, blood spreading quickly over your skin from a wound at your stomach. 

“No,” he reached for you, but you stepped back. Your ankle was at an odd angle, making you limp. “No, this isn’t…” 

“You should have been there,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “You should have saved me. Why didn’t you save me, Joel?” 

“I…” he began but you collapsed then and he jumped to catch you, pulling your body tight to his chest, panting for breath. “No, no, no, you’re OK, it’s alright, you’re gonna be OK, you hear me?” 

“No,” you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I won’t. Because you didn’t save me.” 

He woke with a start, ready to jump between you and any unseen threat. His chest was tight so he could barely breathe, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat. 

It took him a moment to remember where he was, in a bed that was his but wasn’t, in a foreign land that wasn’t really so different from his own. It was still dark outside and he clutched at his chest, trying to calm himself down. 

You were safe. You were safe and he was close enough to you that he could protect you if something happened. 

He repeated it in his head like a mantra and it helped but only so much. There was this little, nagging thought that, while he thought you were safe and well, he couldn’t be sure. Not until he saw you. 

It was early, still dark outside, but he checked his phone. It wasn’t the middle of the night, at least. 

He got up on the off chance that you might be awake, glancing toward your bedroom door and seeing it closed. But it looked like there was a light on in the main part of the house so he followed it, finding you leaning against the counter in the kitchen in a bathrobe, a towel around your head. You were scrolling through something on your tablet, drinking from a mug of coffee. There were only a few lights on, the room still mostly dark, something quiet and almost illicit about his presence there. But the tension in his body eased all the same. You were whole, he could relax. 

“Did I wake you?” You frowned, glancing up at him from the glow of the tablet screen. 

“No,” he said, almost defensive. “Why.” 

“Because,” you shrugged, looking back at the tablet. “You usually wear a shirt when I don’t catch you by surprise.” 

He glanced down at himself and almost groaned. He hadn’t even thought about putting something on. 

“Just woke up,” he said, going to get a cup of coffee for himself. “Didn’t think you’d be awake yet.” 

“Well, I needed to get a workout and a shower in before the glam team shows up,” you said, taking a drink from a green smoothie that he hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t worry, I didn’t go anywhere. I just swam some laps and Quinn’s assistant brought me this.” 

You held up the cup and waggled it in his direction. He rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, because heaven forbid I’m concerned about you gettin’ grabbed by some stalker,” he muttered, getting himself a coffee and leaning against the counter across from you and tried to resist the urge to look down the neck of your robe, something that would be so easy to do with you bent over the counter the way you were. 

Then you stood up straight, setting the tablet down, making his life a little easier. 

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” you said, your coffee cup tight in your hand. 

Joel frowned. 

“What d’you mean.” 

“I mean,” you took a deep breath. “That I behaved unprofessionally. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, I shouldn't have said the things I did. You’re right, it’s not your job to like me and it doesn’t matter if you do or not. I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable but, if I did, I apologize. You’re good at your job and I appreciate the work you do. It won’t happen again.” 

“Oh,” Joel said, taken aback. “Um… It’s… It’s fine.” 

“Good,” you said, downing the last of your coffee. “Glam squad will be here in a little while. You may want to hide while you can. I might promise professionalism but I can’t speak for my stylist.” 

Joel snorted at that. 

“Good advice.” 

You smiled tightly, taking the smoothie back toward your bedroom. 

“Hey, Siren,” he said, almost wincing as he said it but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to use your real name, the words seeming almost too intimate. But you stopped all the same, facing him with your eyebrows raised. “I meant that. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t go beating yourself up about it.” 

“Thanks, Big Miller,” you smiled a little, softer this time. “I appreciate that.” 

Joel ate something and got dressed before people started showing up for you. He met each of them at the door, making sure he knew who was in the house and what they were there to do. Makeup artists and hairstylists and, of course, Frank and his assistant. There was even a team of people escorting a fucking necklace and earrings in some oversized red box that made Joel grind his teeth. It was a little surprising, just how many people it took to get you ready to go to a fucking event. 

He couldn’t imagine what they could all be fucking doing, especially not for hours upon hours. It’s not like there was anything on you to improve, he wasn’t sure why the hell it’d take an entire day to get you ready for anything. 

But when you eventually emerged from your room, he understood. 

Frank was carrying the back of your dress while you held up the front and you were nodding along to something the woman beside you was saying and Joel couldn’t help but stare at you. 

It was like you were a sculpture or a painting, more a work of art than any mortal thing. The gown looked like it had been made for you, finding and highlighting every soft curve of your body. There was a diamond necklace with a massive center stone resting in the hollow of your throat, making him think about how delicate your skin would be there. Your makeup perfectly framed your eyes and the arch of your cheekbones and the plush of your lips. Your hair and nails and eyelashes were all longer and more elegant than they’d been just hours before and you were so beautiful it was hard to look at you. It was painful, wrong in some way. You were something beyond him entirely, ethereal and other. He wasn’t meant to look upon the likes of you. 

“You ready?” You asked, turning your attention to him. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice rougher than he’d meant it to be. “You really gonna watch an entire movie in that thing?” 

“Not the most uncomfortable gown I’ve worn, trust me,” you cocked a smile at him. “But we should go, there’s always traffic for premieres.” 

Joel just grunted noncommittally. He needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford to let you distract him just because you were beautiful. Not after his dream this morning, not when he knew what was at risk. 

He stared determinedly out the window all the way to the theater. 

“You’ll have to let me know what you think of it,” you said as the two of you sat in traffic, getting closer and closer to the red carpet. 

“Of what,” Joel said, looking your way for the first time in a while, forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your throat. 

“Of the film,” you said. “You might be the only person here who will be honest to me about it. I’m curious to know your thoughts.” 

“Not a movie critic,” he muttered. 

“I know,” you said. “That’s why I’m curious.” 

The two of you finally made it to the red carpet and the door opened, your costar there waiting for you with his hand out. 

“My God, love,” he said, looking you up and down. “Do you ever look anything but perfect?” 

“I do what I can,” you smiled, giving him your hand and letting him help you out of the limo. 

Joel got out, too, going around the back of the crowd instead of following you up the carpet, the distance from you making his heart beat faster and his muscles clench. 

“Fuckin’ risky,” he muttered to himself, following your path from the other side of the cluster of fans who were pressed against velvet ropes. There was a large screen set up, a camera tracking you and Reese’s progress down the carpet and Joel kept his head on a swivel, watching you and the crowd and the space at the edges for any threats, trying not to grind his teeth at the way your costar’s hands rested at your waist, hip, back. 

He’d very nearly relaxed when you and Reese had worked your way down most of the fans. You’d almost made it to the press, the more contained part of the carpet where you’d be more secure. Maybe, he thought, he was just being paranoid. Maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about here. 

You started talking to a young man at the end of he cluster of fans, one not much older than the college idiots that seemed to dominate Austin half the fucking year, but there was something about him that set Joel on edge. 

You took a selfie with him and signed something for him but he kept clutching at your arm, not letting you move. Reese’s usually carefree expression shifted, eyebrows drawing together, lips pursing. He put his hand at your waist and gave the man a wave, saying something and smiling a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before pulling you away. You smiled warmly at the man, probably saying something nicer than he deserved, and let Reese lead you on but the man wasn’t letting you go. Your eyes went up, immediately finding Joel’s, a spark of fear in your gaze he could see even from this far away. 

Both of the man’s hands closed around your wrist and he yanked you back toward him, pulling you out of Reese’s hold and making you stumble and Joel was moving before he fully realized what he was doing. 

It was instinctual, shoving his way through the press of fans with no care for who he knocked down on the way. Even with the tightly packed crowd, he was to you in seconds, the man’s hands locked tight around your wrist, bending it at an unnatural angle, Reese trying to pry the man’s hands away from you. Your eyes were wide, the hand that wasn’t in the mans’ grip on his elbow almost soothingly, as though your gentleness was all he needed. 

“No, you don’t understand!” The man was pleading. “I love you, I need you, I’ll do everything for you, everything, no one else will ever love you the way I do, I…” 

Before he could finish talking, Joel punched him across the face. The blow was hard and sharp and sent the man reeling, almost taking you with him before Reese caught you around your stomach and pulled you back from the velvet ropes. 

Event security appeared then, swooping in on the man as he sat on the ground, looking dazed. 

“About fuckin’ time,” Joel snapped to them before hurdling the rope and going to you. Reese had angled you away from the camera that had been following the pair of you down the carpet, cradling your wrist in his hands, saying something to you that Joel couldn’t quite hear. 

“You OK?” Joel asked, a little breathless. Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his, something almost frantic in your gaze. Your chest was heaving, your breaths coming in fearful little pants and he closed the distance between the two of you quickly, taking the uncanny beauty of your face in his hand. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek into his palm and his fingers held you tighter than they should but he couldn’t seem to pull back. Your skin was soft, smooth, warm, perfect. You took a deep breath. “You’re safe, it’s OK.” 

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice trembling and wet, none of your typical bravado to be found. 

“I know,” he said. “But they got him. Not gonna let him hurt you, you’re safe.” 

You nodded into him. 

“Do we need to leave?” Reese looked to Joel, his brows drawn tight together. 

“No,” you said quickly before Joel had a chance to respond. He frowned, going to argue with you but you cut him off. “No, we’re almost to the press, we need to just keep going, it’s fine, I’m fine. We keep going.” 

Joel searched your eyes, your face still in his hand and, as afraid as you looked, you were just as determined, too. 

“Fine,” Joel clenched his jaw. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. 

“I’ve got you,” Reese said gently to you before turning back to Joel. “I’ll take care of her.” 

Joel nodded once, firmly, before finally - painfully - taking his hand back from you. You closed your eyes and took a deep, centering breath. You raised your chin defiantly and steeled your spine and opened your eyes again. You smiled a little as you did and, for the first time, Joel recognized a shift in you. It was like the auditions, when you embodied someone else. You weren’t yourself anymore, you were just another character now, someone with your face and voice but detached from you. 

“Let’s go,” you said, leading Reese down the carpet toward the press. 

Joel watched until you were at the backdrop, smiling and posing with your costar, making sure event security was close by before slipping back into the crowd. 

The man who’d grabbed you had been wrestled away from the crowd, tucked off to the side and now in custody of police. Joel went and found them, introducing himself to the cops and telling them about the stalking threat he’d been hired to protect against. 

The man was still yelling, fully sobbing as he said again and again how much he loved you, how all he wanted was to take care of you. Joel wished the police would turn their backs for a moment, just a moment, just long enough for him to get another hit in on him. He wanted to hurt him, scare him, make him realize that you were protected and that he couldn’t get to you.

Joel had never dealt with a stalker before, but he wouldn’t be surprised if this was the guy. The level of obsession, the passion, the willingness to hurt you to get what he wanted made it seem likely. 

That was good, he thought. If this was the guy, you were out of immediate danger. You’d be safe - or as safe as someone as famous as you could be. There was a certain sense of peace in him at that. 

But there was this keen longing in him, too. 

If this was your stalker, his contract would be up. He would go back to Texas with you, pack up the things at your house and say goodbye to this strange semblance of a life he’d found himself in with you and your niece. He’d be without the both of you, alone in the tomb of his house, waiting for the next time he could jump in front of a bullet for someone else so he could feel alive. 

He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest at that thought, the sickening feeling in his stomach. 

This had been a mistake, this whole fucking job had been a mistake. The second he knew who you were he should have told Tommy no, he couldn’t. You were too close to Sarah, the job too long lasting. It was too big a risk for him, too much of a chance for him to get attached to someone he had no business getting attached to. 

“Joel.” 

He looked around to find Quinn at his back, her face drawn. 

“She alright?” He asked, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“She made it through the press but she might have a broken wrist,” she said, her voice low. “She’s ducking out the back once the film starts, we need to get her to a doctor. She has fight training starting soon and an injury is going to be who knows how much in production delays…” 

Joel bristled. 

“And if she’s got a broken fuckin’ bone it needs to be treated.” 

“Obviously,” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I thought that went without saying.” 

“She’s not just a fucking profit center,” he narrowed his eyes at your manager. “She’s a person.” 

Quinn looked at him for a moment, considering him. 

“I know that, Joel,” she said gently. “I just wasn’t aware you did.” 

Quinn, at least, had the foresight to get your usual SUV to pick you up instead of the limo you’d arrived in. Security let Joel in the back door and you were waiting for him there, looking so out of place among the boxes and storage in your gown and jewels. You were stiff and oddly small, shoulders hunched as you leaned back against a cinderblock wall, cradling your injured wrist to your chest. Someone tried to talk to him but Joel ignored them, instead going straight for you. 

“Changed your mind?” He asked, hands in his pockets so he didn’t touch you again. 

You looked at him through your lashes, something sharply vulnerable in your eyes for a moment before you straightened and smirked a little. 

“Figured going to an afterparty with a wrist the size of a grapefruit was a bad look,” you said, showing your arm to him. Your wrist was swollen and discolored and he resisted the urge to take it gently in his hands. “Don’t want the press to be about this, we want it to be about the movie.” 

“Alright, c’mon then,” he said. “Get you checked out.” 

He put his arm around you, tucking you against his side as you held your wrist against yourself.  He stayed close to you on the drive, your body warm and relaxed against him. 

“Do you think that was him?” You asked quietly, voice small. 

“I don’t know,” Joel said. His hand was on your arm. Your skin was soft. “I talked to the police, told them about the stalker, they’re gonna investigate…” 

“He scared me,” you said softly. “I know there were threats but… It didn’t seem real. I didn’t think anything would happen.” 

“I know,” Joel said, his thumb tracing a slow, steady path over your skin. “I’ve got you. Keep you safe.” 

He said it as much for himself as he did for you. He tried not to think about why he needed to. 

The driver took the two of you to a small doctor’s office that, at this hour, was quiet. A nurse met you both at the back and you were quickly ushered into an exam room and given an x-ray, you in your gown on the cold paper of the exam table a sight that made Joel’s heart clench. 

“You did indeed break it,” the doctor said, pointing out a thin line on the x-ray. “It’s a minor fracture, shouldn’t need a full cast and just a splint for three to five weeks.” 

“How soon before I can train?” You frowned. “Can I train in a splint?” 

“That really what you should be worried about?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest. 

You looked over to him, your eyebrows knitting together. 

“There’s a whole movie depending on me, Joel,” you said. “People have contracts, they have bills they need to pay. I can’t just take weeks off.” 

“Can’t make a movie if you don’t heal,” he muttered. 

“You need to take at least three weeks before you do anything extreme with that wrist,” the doctor said. “If you don’t, you’ll need a cast and you’ll be out of commission even longer.” 

“Alright Doc,” you smiled. “You win, I’ll take it easy.” 

“Good,” he said. “I’d hate to see you try to hold an Oscar in a cast.” 

It was a relief to get you back home again, in a contained space that Joel had gotten to know in the last week. Frank and a hairstylist met you there, the three of you disappearing into your room for a while and Joel considered sitting in his own, not sure he could handle seeing you again but then, he wasn’t sure he could handle not seeing you, either. So he sat on the couch, existing in a state of limbo, not sure what to do next. 

“Sounds like you saved the day,” Frank said when he eventually emerged, a garment bag over his arm. 

“Dunno about that,” Joel said. “Still let her get her fuckin’ wrist broke.” 

“Seems like it could have been a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in,” he said. “Broken wrist will heal.” 

Joel just grunted. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Thank you. She’s one of the good ones.” 

He left before Joel got a chance to respond. The hairstylist left not long after, a bag of hair in her hands, and, when you didn’t come out right after, he almost thought you’d gone to bed. He was considering doing the same when you slowly, almost cautiously, came down the hall, peering into the living room as though your presence in your own home was somehow illicit. 

“Oh,” you said, in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants and wrist splint. The makeup was gone, the long nails and lashes and hair, too. But you were still beautiful, maybe even more so now. It was the most human Joel had ever seen you. “Sorry, I thought you’d be in your room…” 

“Don’t need to apologize,” he shrugged. “Your house. You OK?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “A little sore but… I’ll be fine, it’s just a minor fracture.” 

Joel nodded slowly and you stood there awkwardly for a moment. 

“I’m going to make tea,” you said. “Eat something solid for the first time today now that I’m out of that dress. Call Ellie, check in. Want to join?” 

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes, follow you to the kitchen and be next to you, have tea, talk to Ellie. He wanted to keep existing in the same sphere as you, be folded into your life the way he had become the last few months. 

But he couldn’t. He knew that. You and Ellie and your lives weren’t for him. 

“Should go to bed,” he said instead. “Been a long week.” 

You smiled - a little sadly, he thought - but nodded and went to the kitchen and he listened to you just exist for a moment before he left you there alone. 

It didn’t seem to make a difference. He dreamed of you again. 

It was different this time. You were far away from him, in the t-shirt and sweats you’d changed into, larger than life but out of reach. All he could do was watch as someone hurt you and you looked for him to help you. He ran and ran but he couldn’t reach you, couldn’t do a goddamn thing except watch you hurt because he couldn’t do the one thing he’d been built to do. 

He stared at the ceiling when he woke up, his heart pounding and body tense. 

He had to stop this. Whatever road he was going down, whatever he was doing, he had to stop. He couldn’t live his life this way, where he was always afraid and waiting for things to go wrong. He’d learned that lesson once, the hard way. He couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t. 

“Ready to get back to the Lone Star State?” You asked, already in the kitchen when Joel got up. 

“Guess so,” he said. You watched him, like you were waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. 

“Well,” you said when he was quiet for too long. “I know Ellie is looking forward to you coming back, she told me something about that video game you guys…” 

“Look,” Joel cut you off. “Ellie’s a great kid…” 

“Agreed.” 

“But, if that guy was your stalker, I got no reason to be at your house all the time,” he said. 

“Oh,” you said, your shoulders slumping a little. “Right. I hadn’t really… That makes sense. Yeah.” 

Joel poured himself a cup of coffee. 

“Should go get packed,” he said. 

He didn’t wait for a response, just going back to his room to gather his things and avoid you and it was a relief when the car was there, ready to take the two of you to the airport. 

“We do have to make one stop on the way,” you said, holding the red box that had shown up yesterday. 

Joel frowned. 

“Don’t you got people for that?” 

“Well, the original plans got a little fucked with the whole ‘crazy man at the premiere’ thing,” you said. “But keep your shirt on, Big Miller, it’ll only take five minutes.” 

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes, wishing he was back in Texas already. 

He sat in back next to you, anyway. 

The stop at the jeweler was quick - you trading the large and ostentatious red box for a much smaller one - and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ushered onto the plane, the last people aboard as you tucked yourself into the window seat in the front row, a baseball cap tugged low over your face and a sweatshirt covering the brace on your arm. 

Joel was tense the entire flight. He hated when people realized you were aboard and started demanding autographs and selfies, when you got up to use the bathroom, when the plane hit turbulence and he knew there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do to save either of you if the plane went down and that level of powerlessness disturbed him at his core. 

He’d been stupid with you. Careless, reckless, dumb. He knew better now, he knew where giving a fuck led and it was nowhere good. He thought that wasn’t a risk with you, that your spoiled fucking attitude and obscene wealth and the ease of your life would make it so he could never care for you but he was wrong. He gave a shit. For the first time in five years, he cared. 

And he needed to get far away from that before it killed you both. 

He went wordlessly to his room at your house in Austin when you got there, Seth beating you both to the house to take over so Joel could have a few days off. He grabbed a few things he knew he’d want and resolved to ask Seth to pack the rest for him when the police confirmed that it had, indeed, been your stalker last night. For now, he just needed to get out of here and get away from you. 

“Hey, Joel!” You followed after him as he stalked toward his truck, his duffle over his shoulder. 

He gritted his teeth and turned to face you. 

“What.” 

You all but flinched back from him, blinking in surprise at his curt tone. He knew he was being short with you but it needed to happen. It had to. 

“Oh,” you said, the smaller red box from the jeweler in your hands. “I just…” You thrust it toward him, looking at him with wide and oddly honest eyes. “I got you something. I ordered it before the thing yesterday, just to say thank you for everything in LA, but it can be kind of a going away gift now, too, since… well, anyway.” 

He took it, the fact that you seemed out of sorts disorienting, and opened it. Inside was a watch. It was simple, rectangular with a silver case and black leather strap, but obviously luxurious. 

“It’s engraved,” you smiled, fidgeting with your sweatshirt sleeves. “Which is probably dumb but I couldn’t resist, I’m a sucker for shit like engraving, don’t ask me why…” 

“You think this is what I want?” He asked, holding up the box, voice cold.You just blinked at him for a moment. “That I want some fancy fucking jewelry? That I’m like your rich fucking friends you can just buy off or something?” 

“What?” You looked at him, hurt. “No, no, I… I just… Yours is broken and I wanted to say thank you for…” 

“For me doin’ my job,” he cut you off. “That’s what this was, a job. We’re not friends, you don’t need to thank me for shit. You paid me, I protected you, end of story. I don’t want your fancy fucking watch, I don’t want…” 

“Then sell it!” You snapped, angry now. “Consider it a tip, run it over with your car because you hate me so fucking much, tell the tabloids about how the movie star bought you a present, I don’t care! I know you’re thrilled to be rid of me, anyway. Nice knowing you, Miller. Have a nice life.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead, you stalked back into your house, leaving him there with nothing left but a hollow ache in his chest and the watch that he wished he could find a home for on his arm. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Look. If you're here because you've read my other stuff, are we at all surprised that we ended up here? Is anyone surprised that I'm back in my natural habitat - torturing Joel Miller - yet again?

I wish I knew why I was like this, I really do, but alas, here we are. Thanks for reading it and for putting up with my total lack of a posting schedule. I really appreciate you being here and caring about these characters enough to read the monster chapters I put out about them.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen@eff4freddie@brittmb115@copperhalfcent@r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter

[scoobysnakz]

part 2 of dbf miguel. so sorry this took so long, accidentally deleted the draft like twenty times.

The TV hums softly as a random sitcom you've not gotten the chance to see yet flickers across the screen. You know you should turn it off, it's distracting you from completing your essay, one you've been procrastinating about finishing, but the background noise is comforting enough to let you keep it on, even if you'll have to rewatch it all later.

“Need help with that?”

You jump at the sudden noise, pen now clattering on the floor and rolling dangerously close to the sofa. You look up at where the voice came from, only to be met with a freshly shaven Miguel.

Embarrassment burns the back of your neck as you shift on the plush cushion of the sofa. The only thing covering the crinkled page of your otherwise barren notebook is an array of flowers around the margin and random notes scribbled out in heavy, blotchy lines.

“Am fine,” you smile, fingers spreading out to hide your work, or lack of.

Miguel just scoffs at you before pushing your hand away. “Such detailed notes,” he chides.

“It's meant to be an essay, but thanks anyway.”

You hear him stifle a laugh that you pray is sympathetic and not as amused as it sounds. It's shameful how far behind you are on your schoolwork when you have someone peering over your shoulder.

You aren't quite sure why you're so pent up on impressing Miguel, a man who is staying at his friend's house for some unbeknownst reason.

He sits down on the sofa next to you, a respectful distance but you can still smell his overbearing cologne and hair gel fusion. The sofa sinks slightly at his weight, a low creak eminating through the room.

He laughs, “let me help.”

Irritation bubbles deep in your stomach but you try to push it away, ignore it and keep going with the conversation. But when he acts so casual, even though he's stolen your bedroom, your only haven in this monstrosity of a household, you can’t help but feel annoyed with him.

“I doubt it,” you quip with an air of ignorance, fingers drumming erratically on the inky pages, “this is biology, aren't you like a chemist or something?”

A smirk curls at the corner of his lips at your sudden attitude, but he doesn't comment on it, leaving your opinion of him more distasteful than ever. “Well my degree says organic chemistry and molecular biology, so you're both wrong and right.”

“Mmm, so either, you're loaded, or up to your neck in debt.” you don't even try to hide the snark in your voice, “considering the fact that you’re staying here, I'm guessing student loan got the better of you.”

He scoffs at you, hand clasped to his chest in feigned hurt. “I'll have you know, I have a well-paying job, thank you very much.”

You flip your notebook shut, a small sense of relief washing over you now that disgrace of an essay is hidden, and shift to face him. “Then why are you here?”

He swallows, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. His gaze flickers between your face and the wall behind you, discomfort colouring his expression. The atmosphere of the room shifts entirely, and suddenly you feel guilty for hating him. Maybe he didn't mean to take your room, not on purpose anyway.

“I lost my house, not… not because of money or anything,” he pauses, plush lips pursed into a tight grimace before he continues, “didn't get a very good divorce lawyer.”

“I'm… sorry?” you've never been good at sympathy, always pushed the hard topic of emotions onto someone else so you can focus on something you're actually good at. But now, some weird part of you wants to comfort him.

“Hmm?” he looks back at your eyes, your breath catching in your throat, “Not your fault, querida, I was a silly man who did silly things. I made a mistake and lost the love of my life.”

“Don't say that.” you hate the way your voice softens. You want to keep this burning resentment for Miguel, loathe him for all eternity, it might seem petty but he deserves it. Yet, you want to pull him close, tell him to stop being so hard on himself and run your fingers through his hair until his jaw unclenches.

He shakes his head, casually, as if it was never that important.

“I couldn't stay faithful and I paid the price, she has everything she deserves leaving me with… nothing.”

An awkward silence fills the room. You don't know what to say to that other than, I take back my kindness and spit in your face for cheating on your wife.

“She was amazing, so full of life, and then one day… we just stopped clicking,” he leans back against the sofa, head craning back so that he's forced to stare at the yellowing ceiling, “it wasn't a spur of the moment, because I got bored thing. We had stopped loving each other, she had anyway.”

You reach out, your fingers brushing against his much more calloused, harsh ones causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. You give his hand a gentle squeeze that lasts a little longer than intended, but the sweetness of the action doesn't go unnoticed.

The upbeat theme tune from the TV suddenly blares out from the speakers causing the two of you to startle. Your fingers tighten around his on instinct but you immediately pull your hand away.

Miguel chuckles a low, mellow sound that makes your ears perk up. “Sat on the remote,” he says, pulling it from under his thigh.

“Scared the shit out of me, Migs- Miguel,” you breathe heavily.

He nods, smiling uneasily, praying that the hammering of his heart is from the sudden shock and not from the kindness you displayed. But deep down, he knows the truth.

prev <

[ismahanescorner]

My Fault: London | Movie Review

Platform: Prime Video

Release Date: 13/02/2025

Rating: 7.5/10

Review:

tw//: violence, assault.

i’ll start this review with a little story on how i caved in and watched this version. so, like most people i watched the spanish og version, and while it wasn’t good by any measure, it was entertaining. but, then again, i watched “culpa mia” around the same time as “the tearsmith” cuz of tiktok recommendations and “the tearsmith” was so god awful that i might have an eschewed opinion on “culpa mia” being entertaining! 😬 anyways, a month or so ago, i watched the sequel “culpa tuya” and i was pretty disappointed with how disjointed and non-cohesive the plot line was! hence, when i saw the trailer for a london version i thought “meh, i ain’t watching!” anyways, yesterday, while on tiktok, i come to find out that the actor who plays nick in the london version is matt broome from “the buccaneers” *aaahhh! my racing heart beat still* and so i decided to check out this version to see him and i was NOT disappointed!!

after watching the movie, i immediately hurried back to tiktok to bask in the edits and gush with the girlies over how perfect matt broome and asha banks were for these roles. that’s when i was hit by the “haters brigade” ie; defenders of the og version. they kept whining in the comments about “culpa mia” being a better adaptation cuz it adhered to the books and yada yada. babes, the books are wattpad fics (not even AO3), they are shite paraliterature for us girlies to brainrot over, that’s it. the og script writers should’ve changed stuff here and there in “culpa mia” to make a good adaptation but they didn’t. well, the “my fault london” script writers learned from that mistake and changed loads and gave the audience an entertaining movie and a decent guy/relationship to lust after/root for!!

as i said “my fault london” is so much better than “culpa mia” cuz of those script changes. the plotline in this version feels like a cohesive story instead of just bad boy clichés and spicy scenes strung up together. the events flowed seamlessly one after the other, and the relationships’ bonds between the characters felt deep and better established. additionally, the acting was just better! the chemistry between the leads was off the charts even though they had fewer spicy scenes. the “london nick and noah” talked more and connected better and so when they took that step over the redline it felt proper scandalous. it literally, had me blushing, kicking my feet, looking at my walls with how hot those scenes felt!

so yeah, i quite enjoyed this version and i’m excited to see how they will subvert the storyline if they get the green-light to make a sequel. i’m also beyond happy that cuz of the leads’ good acting, more people will finally be tuning into “the buccaneers” and “a good girl’s guide to murder” our little british shows that deserve more love.

[scarlet--wiccan]

I have a lot of complicated feelings about "Pietro Maximoff Syndrome," but I do think it makes sense for him and Tommy, both, to struggle with communication because they're just... not on the same wavelength as most people. It takes effort for their friends and loved ones to keep pace with them.

You can run into some challenging optics when you have characters whose powers create, for lack of a better term, a neurological difference which may interfere with behavior, cognition, or communication. Similarly, the politics of using powers to treat or accommodate for such differences can be loaded. There are healthy and helpful examples, but then there are abusive situations, like Sabretooth and Birdy, and ostensibly well-meaning characters like Professor X who may, at times, go too far with their psychic interventions.

This scene, in Scarlet Witch, rubbed a lot of people the wrong way because what Wanda is doing here is non-consensual. There's an alternative approach to this moment where Wanda could simply remind Pietro that her magical abilities do allow her to read people's energy, and she's had a whole lifetime to get used to keeping up with his energy in particular-- basically reminding him that she can see through his bullshit without making it into a situation where she's intentionally violated his privacy. You then can expand this idea into a scenario where Pietro, and by extension, Tommy, feel vulnerable, but well-supported by each of their twins and Luna, who has similar abilities. They understand him, when so much of the world struggles to keep up.

Anyway, I think it's a benefit to Pietro and Monet's relationship that she has enhanced speed and telepathy-- obviously she's not as fast as him, but she's able to bridge that interpersonal gap that Pietro struggles with, and I imagine she feels more comfortable with a partner she doesn't have to worry about constantly outpacing. Powers shouldn't be the only thing that dicate compatibility, but it's nice when they do provide extra chemistry.

[hungermakesmonsters]

✨️✨️Congratulations on 500 followers✨️✨️ you deserve all the love for creating and writing such beautiful stories and i'm so happy for you 💖💖

Could i ask for a mini scenario where billy and (y/n) having a relationship like sandra bullock and hugh grant in the movie "two weeks notice". So it's basically boss - secretary relationship, but with a dash of romance and i think the movie was so cute abt how well those two work together

I have 2 scene in mind if you allow me to show you: the closet arguing scene and the restaurant scene. The restaurant being my favorite bc they just keep taking and giving food to each other bc maybe one can't eat them, or dislike them and the others just accept it and even taking it without being asked. And that happened so flawlessly fluid motion. I mean the were discussing business yet still taking care of each other's food 😭. And the closet argue are just cute. They were fighting but.. i'm gonna put those two in links and if you don't mind, do see them. Bc they have this cute chemistry in that movie

The closet argument: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6sFQPu4/

The restaurant:

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6sF4osY/

They were talking abt business, i can't find the audio for it, but this is the scene. They just take care of each other's food like a second nature. Mind you these two have not start a relationship other than working together as boss-secretary and i just 🫠🫠🫠

Okay, so I have not seen that movie in a REALLY long time (I think probably around the time it came out??) but I tried to really capture the underlying will-they-won't-they vibe. For some reason I always headcanon Billy as being really food driven and being particular about his food, so for him to allow anyone to touch his food is a really big deal for him. Anyway, I hope this lives up to your idea!!

His Smile

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : PG 

Warnings : None, just cuteness  

There was something automatic about the way you were together, probably due to all the time you spent with him. You could anticipate Billy, you knew what he wanted without him having to tell you. Half the time you even found yourself finishing his sentences.

That was just how things were between you. It was simple. Easy. Comfortable.

Of course, there were the jokes that you were like an old married couple from Frank and Karen, but Billy — well, Billy was Billy, and you were just his secretary.

Any feelings you harboured were one-sided, but it was fine. You were fine just being around him, being his secretary and his friend. You were one of the few people he trusted, that he confided in, and that wasn't something to turn your nose up at.

Women would come and go, but you were a permanent fixture in Billy Russo's life.

"I'm starving," he grumbled, eyes fixed on his phone.

You barely looked up from the file you were reading. "It'll be here soon, we only ordered five minutes ago."

He gave a hum and shifted in his seat. If it hadn't been for you, the both of you would still be at Anvil trying to solve the problem you'd found yourselves stuck in. But, fortunately, you'd managed to convince him to relocate to the little burger place just down the block from the office, knowing how cranky he tended to get on an empty stomach.

It wasn't unusual for you to work late, to lose whole evenings at his side working through whatever problems might have presented themselves. And, it was fine. In fact, you love these evenings you got to spend with him.

The moment your food was placed down, you found yourself lifting the bun on your burger to remove the pickles, lettuce and tomato. Without thinking, you placed them on Billy's plate and knocked the bun from his burger to take his red onions.

"I can't see a way around it," you said, "I think you're going to have to take on additional operators if you're wanting to keep up with the work load."

"I know," he answered, "but the budget..."

He didn't have to finish the comment for you to know exactly what he was trying to say. Profitability was on a knife's edge and adding more paid operators would mean more contracts but, for the time being, a much smaller return.

"The only other option is to lose the other contracts," you shrugged. "Or risk leaving current missions understaffed."

Billy barely looked up from the spreadsheet on his phone as he reached for the sauce, squeezing a healthy dollop of mayo on your fries before coating his own in ketchup.

You both started to eat, his fork finding its way to your plate to scoop up some coleslaw, knowing how much you hated it. You couldn't help but smile at that, glad that it was gone.

"The other option is temps," you said before taking a bite from you burger, your eyes still fixed on your paperwork. "Loan some guys from another company."

"That'll cost more."

As he spoke, you reached across the table to relieve him of one of his onion rings, knowing he had no intention of eating them. You weren't sure when or how you'd realised that Billy didn't care for onions, just like you weren't sure when he found out that you hated coleslaw. You just knew.

You knew him.

You knew each other.

You spared him a glance, only to find that he was already looking at you, a soft smile on his lips that had your cheeks instantly starting to warm. Then his eyes quickly dropped, seeming almost embarrassed that you'd caught him looking.

"You could outsource? Let a small firm take the contract for a percentage of the fee?" You offered.

Billy hummed as he chewed on his burger, and you decided not to say any more. He needed to eat — you already knew that he'd skipped lunch, and the thought of him going hungry just made you feel uncomfortable.

While you ate, you both continued to read through your respective work. You reached for another onion ring from his plate, while he started to help himself to your fries once his own were gone.

Dessert was a similar affair.

Billy took the cherry from the top of your pie, while you exchanged his scoop of chocolate ice cream for your scoop of vanilla, leaving him with two scoops of vanilla. Again, you weren't sure when you'd found out that Billy didn't care for chocolate ice cream, but it was one of the things about him that always had you rolling your eyes.

Still, once you'd both finally finished eating, he looked a lot better — still tired, as if he needed a proper night of sleep, but he didn't look unfocused and hungry anymore.

You looked up and caught him smiling at you again only, this time, he didn't look away. In fact, he reached for you, his thumb brushing over your lower lip before he seemed to realise what he was doing and pulled back.

"You had, uh — there was ice cream," he said by way of explanation.

"Oh," was all you managed to say in response, cheeks starting to burn despite the two scoops of ice cream you'd just eaten.

"I'm going to head back to the office, see if I can get this sorted," Billy said, shrugging his coat back on.

You knew he was offering you a way out — it was late and you knew he wouldn't blame you if you wanted to call it a night and go home — but you shook your head. There was nowhere else you'd rather be than by his side.

Pulling your own coat on, you just smiled at him, "we'll see if we can get this sorted."

Billy's lips pulled into a smile again, that strange little smile that had butterflies swarming in your stomach and made you wonder if your little crush was really as one-sided as you thought.

One day, you told yourself, one day you were going to kiss him on those lips and potentially ruin everything.

One day, you were going to find out what that smile really meant.

But not tonight, not now.

[catladyoftheyr]

Muscle Memory PT 2

PT 1

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Word count: 937, just a short chapter :)

Summary: you left something at the bar and Miguel offers to drive up to return it; Miguel has some alone time after work and has some ✨ fun✨ while he watches the videos he took last time (this chapter is really just Mig jerking off sorry not sorry)

Warnings: m masturbation, porn, no plot just smut really, mention of unprotected p in v and facials, mentions of jealousy.

Tag: @safixiovi

You’d been back home for a couple days and were heating up leftovers for dinner when you heard your phone ping. You picked it up and saw a text from Miguel

Mig: hey did you lose something?

You: maybe, what is it?

You racked your brain for any potential missing items, but you misplaced things fairly often so it could be anything. Your phone chimed again with an incoming picture from Miguel. It was your charm bracelet with your initials. It must have slipped off when you were at the bar. It looked like the clasp was broken so you made a mental note to get it fixed when you found time.

You: yeah it’s mine. Thank you for finding it! Can you hold onto it for a little while? I don’t know when I’ll have time to drive into town.

Mig: I can run it up to you this weekend. I don’t have any plans anyways.

You: That's like a 2 hour drive, Miguel. I can’t ask you to do that. Especially just for a bracelet.

Mig: good thing I’m offering then. We can make a weekend of it; the bar will be fine without me. Unless you were planning on having someone else in your bed this weekend ;)

You: who still uses the winky face? I’ll see you Friday.

You grabbed your food from the microwave and ate quickly, not caring that it was still cold in the middle. You were always so busy with work that you had a tendency to neglect household chores. As a result, your apartment had started to fall into disarray. You groaned, knowing you had limited time to clean and prepare for your guest. Luckily the kitchen wasn’t too messy, seeing as you weren’t incredibly fond of cooking. You loaded the dishwasher and went on autopilot to tidy the rest of your small apartment.

Miguel’s POV

Miguel locked the back door of O’haras behind him and made the short drive home. He had your bracelet safe inside his glove box and told himself he’d replace the broken clasp before Friday. He let out a deep sigh, exhausted from the evening's work. The bar had been busier than usual and Miguel had had to pull triple duty to call outs. Once past the threshold of his bedroom door he began to immediately peel off layers of clothing before collapsing into bed in just his boxers.

He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come, but he knew it was a lost cause. His mind drifted to the upcoming weekend plans. He wondered what you were doing, what you were thinking about, if you were thinking about him too. Were you alone like him, or was there another man in your bed? Miguel felt a pang of jealousy when he tried to picture you with someone else. He selfishly wanted you to himself.

Miguel thought about the nights you’d spent together, and told himself no one else could measure up to him; that other men couldn’t pleasure you like he does. He’d had his own string of lovers in his bed, but no one matched the chemistry between you and him. Miguel remembered how you looked going down on him, the devilish grin you wore when teased him. He felt his cock twitch as his thoughts grew more lustful.

Memories of the last weekend came flooding back to Miguel, and he grew harder thinking about the way you pressed against him at the pool table, how your mouth felt, and how fucking tight you gripped him when he pounded into you against his car. Miguel pulled his cock through the opening of his boxers and began to pump it slowly and deliberately in his fist. He opened his phone in his other hand and scrolled until he found the footage of him drumming into you. He turned the volume up as loud as it would go, the sounds of skin on skin and raw pleasure filling the room.

“Fuccckkkk” he groaned, slightly quickening the pace of his fist. The way you moaned drove him crazy. He wished he could video call you right now, show you how even when you’re not around he was still enamored by you. He watched the screen intently, remembering how it felt to be inside you, how your pussy gripped him just right. He watched himself grope at your breasts and how they bounced when he fucked you. Miguel’s breathing got heavier, and he stroked himself firmly, watching how your eyes rolled back when he hit your g-spot. He moaned your name as he saw you shake with your orgasm on screen; he bucked his hips into his hand as remembered how it felt to be inside you.

Miguel swiped to the photos he’d taken of you with his cum on your face. You smiled proudly at the camera, so eager to show off for him. He could feel himself getting closer to his own orgasm. “Fuck, nena” he gasped as he pumped his cock as fast as he could. Miguel closed his eyes and pictured himself splattering on your pretty face again, tongue out and eager to taste him. He felt himself shoot warmth out over his hand and torso and sighed as he came down to earth again.

He reached wearily for the tissues on his night stand and cleaned himself quickly. His eyes fell shut heavily as his fatigue began to set in. Miguel sighed as he reached for a spare pillow and rolled over hugging it tight to his check. Sleep came quickly now, and he was sure he’d dream of you.

[unknownsprings]

My (Positive) Rant on the Monkey King Reborn (2021) + My Love For Suntang + More Ranting.

Hello everyone, my name is UnknownSpring's and I'm just a rando who's just going to rant about how freaking gorgeous the freaking movie was. Especially how amazingly pretty Tang Sanzang is and how handsome Wukong is because it has to be freaking illegally to make them this gorgeous and not have the temptation to ship them together (also props to the folks who created Bajie and Wujing because their design looks amazing as well, and I can't help find Wujing adorable and nerdy as well as Fruity being adorable as well, and being a cutie pie).

I'm surprised there isn't any fics about these two because I've been trying to find fics in baidu, ao3, and wattpad (pretty much everywhere besides Lofter 'cause I can't access the site freely anymore without signing up) of Wukong x Sanzang because from observation, I think these two have good chemistry despite Sanzang not having much screen time, but there are scenes where Sanzang seems to dote on Wukong quite fondly and he's quite dependent on him, and Wukong being a complete Tsundere but is a bit of a softie towards his master and seems to care about him a lot that he is prepared to take responsibility to defend his master's honor.

Anyways, it would be cool to see an animated series (whether 2D or 3D) of these two along with Bajie and Wujing like the book of Journey to the West. Because these guys (Wukong and Sanzang) would have loads and LOADS of chemistry together. I'm sure from previous Journey to the West adaptations they have some Suntang moments (I'm currently watching the 2011 one, I haven't watched the other's yet and I've read the novel), but if there's ever a decision of an animated series of Monkey King Reborn I would bet people would start adding a lot of Suntang moments because I swear the folks who made this movie secretly ship Wukong x Sanzang. Plus, I love everyone's designs because they seem to suit their personality.

And I had this funny thought where the other Wukong's from previous JTTW's adaptations would be courting Sanzang pretty hardcore because the man is illegally freaking BEAUTIFUL, and Wukong being dang possessive and jealous that he's having a hard time keeping the other Wukong's away from his master from trying to court him.

Also if I can't find any fics of Monkey King Reborn (2021) Suntang, I'm going to make one myself (well I'm already making one anyway since I've been craving heavily about these two).

Thanks for reading my rants folks, and I'll send a link of my fanfic here once I finish writing my Suntang fic of these two :).

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello my wonderful fandom :) I CANNOT believe we are at the finale already. This season went by in the blink of an eye. I was VERY excited for this finale and what it would bring. They don't have a ton of moments. But the ones they do the writers made count. My goodness I was happy and hopeful after this episode ended. Hard to believe we won't see our babies on screen till 2025. *grumble*

D sent me something about that actually (thank you bestie) Here it be. A.H. saying he's pretty sure all networks are doing this mid season 18 ep start. One of the reasons being the Election coming up. They want to protect shows and their ratings from the debates, coverage etc. And those usually happen on Tuesday nights. Which is actually really intuitive foresight from ABC. So to protect our ratings and show I get it. Especially if we wanna lock down a S8. I don't love it but I get it. Anyways lets get to it shall we? My last "mini" thoughts of the season.

6x10 Escape Plan

Always makes me nervous for Lucy going UC but still amazing to watch her in her element. Even if it makes my stomach tie in knots. Now maybe this is just me but Lucy seemed EXTRA uneasy on this OP. This is pure speculation on my part. But could be lending a little more credence to this not being the path for her? Just the feeling I got while watching her in these moments with with the kids in this one and the sneaking around.

I will say I do love seeing Lucy with the kids. Gives us a glimpse into her as a mama. I'm liking what I am seeing. Can't help but have that thought. I really can't. Chenford has taken over my brain and I'm very ok with it. Smitty's text to Lucy did crack me up. 'Red incoming.' Gotta love Smitty. Lucy is giving me a damn heart attack being undercover though.

The panic in her soul is so evident the minute she sees Monica is approaching. The way she guides the kids out of the room. Then the sheer terror when the kids wanna take a shorter exit. She has to pivot and redirect them quickly. I feel like the pressure of this specific UC mission was getting to her. I really do. It was felt in all her movements and body language through out these scenes IMO. I could be wrong but it was just a gut feeling I got watching her.

I think her expression in this scene after Monica departs is everything. Melissa be crushing it out here. Almost like she has to take a deep breath. Calm her racing heart down before unrooting herself from that spot to investigate further. I feel like her look of unease and panic here brings home the point I've been making.

Her questioning if doing UC is worth this stress? Worth the constant worry? Like I said back in my 5x20 review. Just because you're good at something doesn't mean it's meant to be your destiny. i.e. Lucy being a permanent U.C. Pretty sure her cover is blown after she runs right into him but she got the info she needed. At the expense of my own anxiety and worry though ha

The look in this scene oh my lord. How can they have so much chemistry with just one look? Melissa and Eric are a damn treasure to this fandom. To this amazing ship. Tim saying 'It's good to have you.' That loaded look between them. *screams into a pillow.*

You know that man is happier now that she's folded into this OP. His eyes were on her from the moment she stepped on scene. Be more in love with her Tim please. Then sharing a look with Angela. I’m dying. Angela is us we are Angela. She is the fandom in this moment watching this exchange. *sigh* So good.

Someone please tell me how do they look so amazing just standing next to one another? It's unreal how they can exude SO much chemistry just standing next to one another. Forever floored by the amount of physical chemistry these two have without even touching. It blows my mind in the best way.

Also I always enjoy me some Tim in T.O. mode it's sexy af. It revs my engine to watch him back in leadership mode. Not gonna lie. So very confident and sure of himself. Gah makes me need to cross my legs watching him in action LOL Sorry (sorta)Feral Caitlin made a return there haha But I do love seeing it. Like he’s getting his mojo back professionally. It’s nice to see. Does my heart good to watch it.

Oh my word they haven’t really been alone to talk (not counting the hug last ep) since 6x06. I’m so happy. I was legit buzzing watching this. My heart Tim telling her he took her advice and went to therapy. Yessss been waiting for this to unfold. Was hoping when they got a moment alone he would tell her about it. Look at him taking the first opportunity they have solo to tell her this. The growth of this man is incredible to see. I'm so proud of him it's insane. He takes a beat and makes the best of their time together. Breaking the uncomfortable ice with it. *happy sigh*.

I'm so proud of him. I can't state this enough. It is NOT easy to have this convo let alone be the one to start it. Another way to see he's grown. Tim is tackling the conversation. Being the one to broach it. Not Lucy dragging it out of him. I love her telling him that's not normal what happened for him. Definitely hasn't been my experience haha I do love her following up her little joke with being serious. Wanting to encourage him to keep going. I love this. Doesn’t want him to think one bad experience will tar the entire profession.

Tim nodding with a smile asking her if she wants to know the irony of it all? Lucy of course does. Tim continues on that she was a good therapist. The sessions they helped him. Damnit Blair.... I do adore the way Lucy is looking at him while he speaks about this. That angry look she started with has softened quite a bit. Truly hope he continues in S7 and we get to hear about it. God I would love to see sessions. Some of my all time fav Beckett scenes in Castle's S4 was getting to see her sessions with her therapist. It's on my wish list. *fingers crossed.*

His continued sharing with Lucy makes my heart so happy it might implode. Letting Lucy know therapy despite Blair being dirty has been good for him. She unearthed things he wasn't even aware of. I felt the same way too after a couple weeks. I felt more regulated tbh. I had massive sleeping problems from age 15 to when I decided to go to therapy in my 30's. After a couple sessions my sleeping issue's were gone for most part. I had been carrying my problems for so long. Like a pressure cooker with no release valve. So with no outlet they followed me into my unconscious and manifested into anxiety attacks. Couple weeks of sessions and my sleep issues all but disappeared.

Therapy when you truly lean into it can do wonderful things. i.e. Tim opening up to Lucy like this. Also look how SOFT Lucy looks with him as he bares his soul to her. I would be remiss if I didn't go in depth on this. The look of pride and love splayed all over her face is everything. Also reverence and love as well. This episode has a lot of loaded looks and I ate them all up. We started this scene with her face hard and holding a lot anger still. Then Tim melts it with his genuine vulnerability and sharing of what going to get help has done for him. Not only that but giving her props for the original advice in the first place. I'm beaming with delight.

We move onto Tim is being anxious his sessions are going be heard for evidence cause of the FBI investigation. Ugh. This kicks Lucy's brain into gear about that. Asking if he said anything revealing about her? His reply had me rolling. I adore him making a joke like this. Letting her know he mentioned ‘Freak in the sheets.' about her. I’m dying. I have no doubt there is some truth to that for them both LOL Look at our boy making jokes and getting her to laugh. God it was so so nice to see her laugh again. He earns a smile out of her too. The first time he's been the cause of that since her gifted her that KIA Radio in 6x05. I'm floating. They're both smiling by end of this scene. *sigh* We needed this.

We got to see some BAMF Lucy in this moment. Something that just like Tim in confident T.O. Mode has been missing since 6x06. I love her being like take this guy my man is in trouble. Getting him dropped off and instantly taking off after Tim. Who is also trying to pull off some bad assery tbh. A little recklessly but that's why Lucy is coming after him.

She see's his play and wants to be there to back it. Literally waste's no time in pursuit of him. Peels right out of that damn laundromat after him. Tim's play going south VERY quickly when this guy catches on to him in the bed of the truck. Sends his gun flying and my heart racing.

Adore the worried wifey look as she watches from the car. It's pouring out of her in that brief shot. Well done Melissa. Just like Eric she knows how to convey so very much with just a look. Lucy knows Tim is in trouble. That she can't just sit there in pursuit of the vehicle without helping him.

Especially after she watches him get pulled into the cab. Knowing that he is currently at a tactical disadvantage. No way in hell she is leaving him to fight this guy off alone. Telling Lopez to take the wheel as she makes her way out to help him.

Lopez's face when she makes the jump is shocked and amazed. Lucy continuing her BAMF streak on this OP. I loved the surprised look on Tim's face when she first jumps on the truck. Like he can't believe she just risked her life to come help him out. He can't stay in the feeling long as she takes the guy out for them. But it needed to be noted his utter surprise she was there to have his back. Risked her life to do so. Such a bad ass battle couple. Back to back finales we get to watch them be poetry in motion in the field with a battle.

Oh my lord what an epic scene to watch. Lucy jumping onto that moving truck bed to save her man. They take him down together. Their work dynamic easily coming back into play here. They don't miss a beat in this moment. Working as harmoniously as they always have in the past together in the field. I love the looks shared once they've stopped the truck.

Especially Tim's. He is so damn impressed with her. Always finds a way to blow him away with the bad ass she's become. Man is falling in love all over again. It shows all over the two looks he gives her in this scene. First one is his falling back in love again. I mean he already was but think sunk him deeper. Second one is more of just being in awe of her. The pride he feels watching the amazing cop she's developed into. I love these two so much.

Let me start with how happy it makes my heart that Tim smiles when she walks up to him. Despite all the hurt just the sight of her elicits a smile out of him automatically. His walking sunshine. Love of his damn life. She truly is his happy place in human form. Lucy making a crack about him taking a half day. Their banter still simmering beneath the surface. It's a little subdued in this moment but it's alive and well with Tim's reply. He is ever the gentlemen letting her go first.

His elevator version of holding the door for her. That chivalry never dying with him. It's the little things. Can't ignore how Lucy is looking at this man the entire scene. From start to finish. With such reverence and love. Still so in love with this man standing in front of her. Lucy can't help it. She is a moth to a flame with him. Especially with Tim thanking her for saving his life. Let's delve into that a little shall we? Tim Bradford is saying he didn't have it. Admitting fault he would've lost that battle without her.

Saying not only did he not have it but Lucy did. That he wouldn't be standing here without her. Giving her the kudos and all the praise for saving his life. Far cry from 1x01 and his future reaction to that moment in S5. This is a different Tim we see standing before us everyone. The amount of growth in this moment is immense. Because not only did she save his life but she saved him in a deeper sense. Feels like it's truly hitting him like a freight train the impact she's had on his life. I think there is double meaning to his words above. It's what leads him into this next section below.

The loving expression on Lucy's face when she replies ' You're Welcome.' That look of I'm still in love with you, I would do anything for you despite the hurt, and her realizing the deeper meaning of Tim thanking her. The growth she is currently seeing in him is prompting this soft/warm look and even softer reply. It's what encourages Tim to say his next portion. You can see him psyching himself up before he turns around to apologize. To own what he's done to them. To her.

Tim starts his apology by telling her he knows what he’s done (thank you lord for this) That he knows he ruined everything. You sure did babe...but you’re gonna earn it all back I know it. Lucy has the most loving and forgiving nature. The biggest heart. Also we can see there is still a tinge of anger to her expression at first above. So that journey will not be an easy one for Tim. Nor should it be. He has a lot to make up for. But my god will it be worth it in the end. I truly believe that. I'm going to be crying river's when we get there.

Look at how he has grown. Immediately spilling his guts emotionally to her twice in one episode. Not once but TWICE. Hell three times really. With saying she saved him and admitting fault to what he's done. I can't get over this. He had two really hard conversations with her in this episode. Swallowing that pride of his he's trying to hard to overcome. Doing this in order to communicate better with her. To show her he's putting in the time and the effort. To let her know he knows he messed up and is owning that. Something Tim wouldn't have done before. At least not easily. These are great strides for him. I couldn't be prouder of where they are ending the season for him. Imma need more therapy though in S7 you hear me writers?

Tim thanking Lucy for extending him the kindness she has shown him. *my damn heart.* That he can never explain how much he appreciates it. That she could've easily turned on him and he would've understood. But that's not Lucy. We all know that's not who she is. Or ever will be. It's that forgiving nature of her's that is one of the many reasons Tim is so damn gone for her. I think there is once again a double meaning to his words. To me Tim is saying this is for far more than just post break up. It's for their entire relationship. Together/apart and especially when they were not 1-4. The kindness and the empathy she's aways shown him. Even at his worst.

Like I said earlier it's all hitting him hard. The place she held in his life for so long and the impact she's had on him. Imma cry. A giant epiphany moment for Tim I think. Maybe starting to slowly understand the unconditional love she has for him. This scene made me tear up. That anger that is still present melts away a little more for Lucy. If she continues to see Tim work on himself. He shows her his continued growth. No reason she wouldn't take this man back when he's put in the work to re-earn that place in her life. Tim saying he's gonna spend rest of his life repaying her back for said kindness. *screams into the void.* In whatever small doses she allows of course.

Respecting her boundaries and hoping she will allow him to do so. It's the sweetest most sincere part of his apology. The way she looks at him as he departs. *heart clutch* You can see he's stunned her into silence. But also Lucy can see the growth in him and it’s written all over her face. This is a fantastic way to end the season for them. It wouldn’t be right to get back together right now or even just a 'we almost died' hook up. (Wonderful fic's out there for that just recently BTW.) Just wouldn’t. As much as my shipper soul LONGS for them to be back together. Legit longs so much it hurts. This was a good way to end them for the season. With some hope, some growth and a path forward leading us to S7.

Some Final thoughts below. With a Chenford hug to this lovely fandom of ours.

First off I want to thank you all for doing this not so mini review journey with me. I was nervous to do them. Even after doing 9 plus months of them with 1-5. This was different. It was first impressions. Hope you all enjoyed them. I'm more than happy to do this next season too. First impression thoughts for S7 as well if you are all interested. Let's move onto some final thoughts I'm having. You know months could pass by when we get to 7x01 in their timeline. I’m hoping he’s in therapy during this duration. Ready to prove he wants to earn her trust back. To earn her back. I don't think for one second that moment in the elevator is the last deep conversation they're going to have before we get a reconciliation. Tim has her love. Always has. Always will.

Lucy's decisions and responses in 6x10 show that. No matter what she loves this man. What he needs to gain back is her trust. To prove over and over again. He's there to stay. To show her through kind acts. To rebuild his rapport with her. I’m excited for that journey cause when we get there. *phew* God the fandom is gonna implode with happiness. It’ll be well earned. Their relationship is going to be even better with the growth Tim has done. (Hoping for some more for Lucy as well and getting the support she needs/deserves)We saw massive results in this episode alone. Can you imagine how it’ll be when they’re back together? *chefs kiss* it’ll make all the hurt and pain so worth it.

Getting emotional writing about this. This ship has a stranglehold on my emotions and I’m ok with it. Eric and Melissa love our passion for this couple. So I won’t be ashamed for the affect it has on me. I’m excited for s7. It’ll be a long hiatus. But we will get through it together. I will probably wait till mid July to do my thoughts fully fleshed out for S6. Think we all need time for finale to settle. For us too as well. I'm most definitely not ready to re-dive into everything just yet. Especially 6x05/6x06. But I'm hoping couple month hiatus for me will help with tackling that. Then we can start that journey for us all to go on with my deeper analysis.

As always thank you all for the likes, comments and reblogs. For being interested in my thoughts at all. It means the world you have no idea. Love this fandom, love this show and this incredible ship we are so fortunate to have. So once again thank you all for being on this journey of S6 with me. Like said earlier I’ll get started in my fleshed out S6 reviews come mid July. :)

~~~

Side notes-Non chenford

Monica cleaned up a mess for Blair. Manipulated her by helping her most Monica thing I've ever heard. Glad to finally have answers to that. I knew it felt like manipulation. She had too much of a conscience to be dead inside and doing it for money. Sucks cause she is very good at her job. That scene with Aaron was a mic drop moment for him. So proud of how far he came this season as well.

Friggin Nolan never listens. And get shot for not listening. In the ass. Because he's a pain in one. Was apropos. Also he's right back to being a dumb putz to me. It was short lived john you made it half an episode before falling out of my good graces LOL

Once again music amazing for their final scenes whoever handled that this season crushed it. Bringing out all my emotions.

See you all later this summer for my in-depth ones. Till then be kind and rally around each other. Gonna be a long hiatus.

[forestdeath1]

Hii! I love your metas. Would you like to share your thoughts/ headcanons on jily as a couple?

Hello! Thanks for this question about Jily!

I have a bit of a specific take on these two. It's all just my headcanon.

I don't think they were ENEMIES. Lily wanted to see him as an enemy early on, but James only saw Snape that way. At first they might have made fun of Lily too, but James grew out of that childish stage by third year when finally got a morning wood, and making fun of girls became loser behaviour for him.

Lily liked James from fourth year. That's when all the chemistry kicked off, you know? When he pisses you off, but you like him, but he pisses you off. James grew up, his grin got cheekier and even more cocky, and girls started noticing him… I'm not a fan of the trope where James is an insecure boy who's clueless with girls. I mean he was clueless with girls, but at the same time he was very confident. Not a single thought that someone might not like him... So, I think he was already flirting then, but not with any romantic intentions, just that kind of behaviour. You know, winked when he caught her eye, said 'looking good, Evans' when he spotted her in Potions class in the morning. That irritating behaviour of a self-absorbed jock. Nothing serious, but Lily reacted to it like a kid, because fourth-fifth year… she was a late bloomer. It proper embarrassed her. But really, James kick-started her awakening as a girl who could fancy boys and be fancied by them.

When James realised he really liked Lily (year 5), he tried to "unlove" her first because "love’s for wimps'". Real boys don't fall in love.

My HC is that Lily's beautiful. And the boys started paying attention to her. In James’s eyes, they were all suckers (no, they weren't, and he knew that too, but couldn't think any different).

Lily and Sirius’s relationship got better before Lily and James’s relationship did.

Lily LOVES quidditch! She's a proper fan. She genuinely fell for this sport and watches every game. James reckoned for a bit that it was about him (arrogant prat).

James’s attempts to court her in fifth year were a fiasco. By sixth year, he'd matured a bit and realised it wasn't just a casual "liking" for Lily, but that he genuinely wanted something serious with her. He sincerely changed the vector of behaviour, but Lily was adamant, still remembering the last year and feeling a bit down. At one point, she said something very serious, to which James replied, 'Do you really think so?' Out of pride, Lily said, 'Yes,' and James just said, 'Alright then, sorry for bothering you all this time. All the best, Evans'

And he backed off from her. He didn't treat her like a friend, but he didn't act like a mortally offended drama king. She just became another classmate to him, with a neutral attitude. Zero interest.

Lily had some time to think. And Lily got a boyfriend –a great boyfriend, swear down! She tried her hardest to love him. But it didn't work out.

At the end of sixth year, Lily made the first move herself. They talked. She invited James to Hogsmeade. James, being anti-drama, said it was all good, he thought nothing bad of her, and said she could join them on Saturday at the Three Broomsticks, the Marauders would be chuffed. Especially since she got on well with all of them. More the merrier, right? Lily was like, WTF??? And James was like, what's the problem? Lily - no, no problem, everything's fine! Of course, I'd love to hang out with you lot! See you on Saturday!

Anyway, things got a bit twisted... loads more happened. And they started dating. By the way, they hooked up first, and then that same evening they confessed their love for each other and started dating. They were each other's first.

James realised how happy he was now and just walked around like the happiest person alive. He felt like he'd hit the jackpot. Same for Lily. They regretted wasting so much time and called themselves a pair of idiots.

NSFW!!! 18+

In their first year together, they fucked endlessly like rabbits. Everywhere. Jily for me is just endless shagging, sorry not sorry :D At first, they were figuring out their desires, abilities and needs. Right from day one, they weren't shy with each other and just went for it. They lucked out – their sex drives matched up.

James adores Lily's body. He loves every inch of it! He's ready to cover it in kisses endlessly, stroke it, nibble it, and lick it. Like someone said before, he's a pro muncher. And Lily loves James's cock. She pretty quickly mastered deepthroating, and she's got a thing for giving head in places where "you can't". So, she's up for dropping to her knees in some unexpected spots. She likes it when he cum on her breasts. Or on her face. She likes looking up at him, nearly choking, while he's gripping her hair.

Overall, they weren't shy about showing their affections in public. And they were always finding ways for spontaneous sex. Sometimes, James would finger Lily to orgasm during classes. Thank goodness for robes that hide everything lol Lily would take him into a dark corner of Hogwarts during patrols and suck him off. He could slip his hand under her robes and tease her nipples while they were sitting in the library. I mean they were really into sex with each other.

The rest of my headcanon about their sex life can stay in my head :D

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

I know some of you out there either want to binge watch Be My Favorite or don't want to watch it at all. But the series deserves a little bit more recognition, because so far it is really good. I was going to save the recap until sunday, but what the heck :)

It feels like Kawi is the embodiment of all people with fragile self-esteem and Pisaeng is the voice that we hate to listen to, that we also hardly believe, but that simply speaks the truth. All the shortcomings Kawi thinks he sees in himself exist only in his head, and out there are people who want to be his friends because of who he is. Pisaeng wants to be his friend, even if Kawi can't understand that. But that's not what friendships are about. You don't get to decide why a person wants to be friends with you or what they see in you that you might not see yourself. Your friend sees something in you that helps themselves, that gives them confidence, that is valuable to them. And shit, this show makes me cry simply because Kawi represents all my insecurities and my thoughts in my head, which I also have when I wonder why people want to be friends with me when I am just the way I am, with all my shortcomings and uncertainties. I thought the conversations Kawi and Pisaeng had in the park and in Kawi's room were so wonderful.

Pisaeng advises Kawi that he, too, looks at the world with prejudice, just as he thinks other people look at him, although he cannot know what is going on in people's minds. His own low self-esteem loads him with prejudices, so he builds a wall of them and rejects approaches from others from the start. He also declares that pretty people have it easy in life anyway and cannot understand how he feels. He can't see beyond the edge of his plate. And that's where Pisaeng comes in, this beautiful young man who is popular and has self-confidence, yet wants to be his friend. Who can see something in Kawi that he himself doesn't see yet. And he shows Kawi that his own superficiality is hurtful and that he stands in his own way of being loved by others. And I love every second of it!!!

Perhaps this could be something you like :) And I was unsure about the pairing in the beginning, but I think they are really great together. They have a good, kind of natural chemistry and their humor just fits.