#but also maybe “the voice” and being a child of divorce are a bit more real to me

[leserattevirginie]

The Szeth flashbacks might just be the end of me.

[tokkiwrites]

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (4)

mom's fiancé! joel miller x f! reader • series masterlist

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

Tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, betrayal, talk about divorce, talk about not wanting a child, ANGSTTTT, (marjorie being a mean bitch but also a great plot device!), trauma!!! reader has daddy issues, but dont quote me on that.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ im baaack !! the second to last part is here!! how do we feel so far? IT'S GOING DOWN!! one more chapter, and we will find out if anyone will get a happy ending. who knows.. maybe we'll make a spinoff of this? anyway, this is 3.37k words, so the shortest of the bunch butbi didn't want to add unnecessary smut :') HOPE YOU LOVE IT! not proofread soo if you anything spelled wrong umm close your eyes.

“Glad you could make it,” Marjorie said, closing the door behind you. “I thought we could have a little chat.”

“What do you want? was it really necessary for us to come here?” Joel asked, his tone edged with irritation. "Wouldn't want more people to see us now, right?" She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “I think you both know exactly what I want." You exchanged a worried glance with Joel, trying to gauge how serious she was. “What are youㅡ?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. Marjorie pushed off the counter and walked towards you, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “I want you to share him for a bit." she said bluntly, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to let the grown-ups play too. Besides, it’s only fair, isn’t it? After all, we can't let your mom find out about you two..." Your heart sank. “You can’t be serious,” you said, laughing as disbelief washed over you. “Oh, I’m very serious. If you want to keep this little affair of yours a secret, you’ll have to comply with my terms. I’ll tell your mother everything if you don’t.”

“Why would you do this?” Joel’s voice was low, but you could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Because it’s fun, Joel. Because I can. And because your little fling is just that—a fling. I want you back, and I’m not above playing dirty to get what I want.” You felt sick, caught in the middle of a game you never wanted to play. “This isn’t fair,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Life’s not fair, sweetie,” Marjorie shot back. “You should know that by now.”

Joel stepped in front of you, a protective stance that made your heart swell and ache at the same time. “You don’t have to do this. You could just walk away, Marjorie. You’re better than this.” She laughed, a sound that was anything but lighthearted. “Better? Oh, darling, I’m far from better. I’m just getting started. So, that's the deal. You decide now.”

You felt the world around you spin as Marjorie’s words sunk into you like a bullet. “You’re a terrible friend,” you spat, rage and hurt flooding through you. “Your mother is the one who’s a bad friend,” Marjorie retorted, her eyes narrowing. “She knew how I felt about Joel. She knew we were together all those years ago. And yet, she had the audacity to marry him anyway.” Tears burned at your eyes as her words cut deep. “You’re just bitter because he moved on,” you accused.

“Bitter? Maybe. But I’m also vindictive. You’re standing in my way, and I don’t like it.” Joel’s hand squeezed yours tightly, and you could feel the tension. "Oh, so that's the only thing keeping you away? the fact that I am with him and not that he's your best friend's husband?"

"Didn't stop you, honey. And she's your mom." As Marjorie’s laughter echoed around the room, a twisted sense of triumph in her eyes, you felt the walls closing in on you. She was ready to play this game to the bitter end, and the stakes were too high. “Fine,” you said suddenly, surprising both Joel and yourself. “I’ll think about it.”

Marjorie’s expression turned sly. “Good. You have until tomorrow. Make your decision, and let me know. I’ll be waiting.”

On your way back home, the car ride was silent. You turned to Joel, his face a mask of frustration. "What now?" You finally speak up. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, but the doubt lingered in his eyes. The gravity of the situation bore down more intensely than ever before.

When you got home, the air felt suffocating and so cold at the same time. Your mother had gone to bed early, and joel decided to spend the night at his apartment, closer to where he worksㅡ again. the stillness of the house was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within you. You wanted to scream, cry, and run away from everything that was happening. But instead, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at the ceiling as the reality of your situation washed over you.

The next morning brought with it a sense of impending doom. You felt like you were walking on a tightrope, and the slightest misstep could send you tumbling into chaos. Your mother chatted about her plans for the day, seemingly oblivious to it allㅡ her daughter was fucking her husband. But you couldn’t focus on her words; all you could think about was Marjorie and the ultimatum she had laid before you.

As the day wore on, the burden of your decision weighed heavily on your chest. You knew you couldn’t keep Joel, your mom and Marjorie happy without sacrificing something monumental. The thought of losing Joel made your heart ache, but so did the thought of being betrayed by your own mother. Hours passed, and by the time your mother left for a gathering with her friends from work, you felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap. “I’ll be back late, sweetheart,” she called over her shoulder, and for a moment, you felt that flicker of guilt in your very sould again.

With the house empty, you sank into the couch, pulling out your phone and staring at it, waiting for Joel to text. The minutes turned into hours, and just as doubt began to creep in, your phone buzzed, a message from him lighting up the screen.

• Meet me at our spot?

Your heart raced, and you felt a surge of trepidation.

• I’ll be there.

You arrived at the secluded spot by the river, where the world felt far away. Joel was already waiting, leaning against his truck, the setting sun casting a warm glow on his rugged features. When he saw you, a relieved smile broke across his face. “Hey, you,” he said, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melted against him instantly, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, pulling back to look into his eyes. “Marjorie is insane...”

but maybe so were you.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said, voice steady. “I won’t let her hurt you. We’ll figure this out together.” But even as he spoke, you could see the doubt flickering in his eyes. “She wants me to share you with her, Joel, what the actual fuck?" you whispered, the words feeling heavy and bitter on your tongue. “She can’t have you. You’re mine.” But then reality crashed in, and you felt the tears prick at your eyes. “What if she really tells mom?” you asked, desperation threading through your voice.

“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” his hands were cupping your face, thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “I love you. You know that, right? No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere, baby." but the words felt hollow. “What if this is all my fault?”

“It’s not,” he insisted, his grip firm, eyes fierce. “We’re not doing anything wrong. We love each other. That’s what matters. ain't nothin' wrong with lonving somebody."

yeah, your mom's husband.

You wanted to believe him, to let those words wash away the doubts, but all was a threat and it loomed large, an insidious whisper in the back of your mind, reminding you that love alone might not be enough to shield you from the consequences of your actions. "Mom wouldn’tㅡ she will not understand, Joel. She’ll be devastated.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said again, his voice firm, but you could sense the uncertainty lingering beneath the surface. “We can go to her together and explain it all. You’re everything to me, baby, you know that. this is just a lessonㅡ people will always try and come between us.” Just like you came between him and your mom.

You wanted to believe him, but fear clutched at your heart like a vice. “What if she gets angry and takes it out on you?” Even now, he was all you cared about. The thought was unbearable. “I can handle it,” he said, determination lighting his gaze. “No one is going to make me not love you, babygirl.”

Finally, you took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I have to go home.” His expression shifted, disappointment mingling with concern. “Are you sure? We can stay a little longer—”

“I have to think. About everything.”

maybe love won't save it all.

The walk home felt like a thousand miles, each step heavy with dread. You replayed everything in your mind. was it really worth it? Was Joel worth it? Was your mom worth it?

the house was quiet, the only sound being the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. You slipped inside, the darkness wrapping around you like a shroud, and paused for a moment to collect your thoughts. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of the door opening. You froze, your heart racing as you turned to see your mother step inside, her face illuminated by the hallway light. She looked tired but happy, her laughter still lingering in the air as she made her way toward you.

“Oh, sweetheart! You’re back!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm embrace. You inhaled her familiar scent, a mixture of lavender and home, and felt a surge of guilt wash over you. “Hi, mom,” you said, your voice betraying the turmoil inside you. She smiled, but it faltered as she took a closer look at your expression. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I... it’s nothing,” you replied too quickly, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your mother’s brow furrowed in concern. “You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right, ladybug?” A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Yeah, I know.”

This was it.

The moment where everything hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of no return. You knew what you had done was wrong—there was no denying it. No sugarcoating, no excuses. But as awful as your betrayal was, letting her find out from someone else, someone who wanted to hurt her for sport would be even worse. It would be cruel, cowardly, and the final twist of the knife. The only thing you could do now, the only thing that held even a shred of dignity or decency, was to take control of the narrative. To tell her the truth yourself. Not because it would fix anything—nothing could. but because it was the last way to show her respect. The last chance to do something for her that wasn’t tainted with deceit or manipulation.

You owed her that much. Even if she hated you forever, even if she never looked at you the same way again, it would come from you— not from Marjorie or anyone else who wanted to see her destroyed. You had already broken her heart, but you couldn’t let them shatter her spirit. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. It felt impossible, like standing in front of a firing squad, but you had to do it. The power had to be yours. This was the only way to make sure she knew the truth wasn’t a weapon someone else could wield against her.

You looked at her. If you’re going to lose everything, at least lose it by owning what you did. Not by running away.

“Mom, can we talk?” The words rushed out before you could second-guess yourself. She turned, her expression now serious. “Of course, honey. What’s on your mind?” You hesitated. You wanted to tell her everything—about Joel, about Marjorie, about the love that was blossoming in the shadows. You had to. “Just... something.” You started biting your lip.

"Something?" she pressed, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of concern. She stepped closer, her eyes searching your face as if trying to read your thoughts. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” Your chest tightened, the truth pressing down on you like a boulder. “It’s about Joel,” you blurted out, unable to stop the words from spilling over. Her face stiffened at his name, her posture straightening. “What about Joel?” she asked, her tone sharper now. The air grew heavier with each passing second, the silence between you stretching like a chasm. "Did he do anything to you?" her worry was obvious.

"N-no..." You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “We’ve... been seeing each other.” The words were heavy and raw. Her face shifted, confusion and disbelief warring for dominance. “What do you mean ‘seeing each other’?” she asked with a laugh, though you knew she understood exactly what you meant. “I mean we’ve been... together,” you admitted. Her face twisted. “Together?” she repeated, the word snapping like a whip. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “Mom, I love him.” Her laughter was harsh, bitter. “You love him? Joel? My husband? Your stepdad?” Her voice cracked with fury and pain.

You hated to hear that. You hadn’t realized quite yet who he was to you. "He's not my dad, momㅡ"

“How long has this been going on?” she interjects. “Since... before the wedding,” you confessed, and the words hit her like a physical blow. She staggered back, her hand flying to her chest. “Before the wedding?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “So you’ve been lying to me this entire time? Both of you?" Tears streaked her face, but they did nothing to soften the anger in her eyes. “How could you? How could heㅡ ?!” Her voice rose. "Is this some kind of sick fucking joke?" her voice cracking. "It's not a joke, Mom," you said, your voice trembling. "I didn't want this to happen, but it did. I—"

"Didn't want this to happen?" she cut you off, her eyes blazing. "You expect me to believe that? That it just... happened? His dick just fell into you, right? You betrayed me! My own daughter, with my fucking husband!" She threw her hands up, pacing the room like a caged animal, her anguish filling every corner. “You’ve destroyed everything—everything! How long have I been the fool, sitting at home, playing happy family while you... while you—”

“Stop it!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?!” she snapped, whirling to face you. “You don’t think I understand betrayal? You don’t think I know what it feels like to be stabbed in the back by the two people who should love me the most?” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said desperately, tears spilling freely now. “But I love him, Mom. I love him.”

“You love him?” she echoed mockingly. “You love my husband? Do you even hear yourself? What kind of daughter—what kind of person does this?” The venom in her voice stung, but you couldn’t back down now. “I’m not proud of this,” you said, your voice quiet and steady. “But it’s the truth. I love him, and he loves me.” Your voice rises again. She stared at you in disbelief, her jaw tightening. “Loves you?” she spat, her tone dripping with scorn. “Is that what he told you? That he loves you? That this is some grand romance and not just another one of his selfish, disgusting whims?”

“Stop it,” you said quietly, but she pressed on, her anger building like a storm. “Do you even know him?” she hissed. “The real him? Or are you just blinded by whatever lies he’s been feeding you? He’s a liar, a manipulator, and now he’s turned my own goddamn daughter against me.”

“You don’t know anything about us!” you shot back, your voice rising to match hers. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever been hurt? The only one who’s ever felt unloved? You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” she interrupted, her voice rising to a shout. “What don’t I understand? That you’re selfish? That you’re reckless? That you’ve thrown away everything we had for... for him?” The words hit you like a slap, but they also ignited something inside you. “You don’t get to stand there and pretend you’re some kind of victim!” you yelled. “You’re not perfect, Mom! You’re not blameless!” Her face twisted in rage and pain. “So now this is my fault?” she demanded. “You’re blaming me for your choices? For his choices? You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m not blaming you,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion, as you were sobbing. “But you don’t get to act like you’re innocent either. You’ve pushed people away your whole life, and now you’re acting surprised that someone finally—"

“Stop,” she said coldly, her voice low but dangerous. “Don’t you dare try to twist this around. Don’t you dare try to justify what you’ve done.” The room fell silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter but no less filled with anger. “I gave you everything,” she said, her voice shaky. “I sacrificed everything for you. And this is how you repay me?”

“I know you didn’t want me,” you suddenly snapped, the years of buried hurt rising to the surface. “I always heard you fighting with Dad, saying I was your biggest mistake! Isn't that why dad left?" Her eyes widened, stunned by the shift in the conversation. “What?” she said, her voice barely audible. “I know,” you repeated, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. “I heard it all. I wasn’t deaf, Mom. I was a kid but i wasn't fucking stupid! I knew you never wanted me.”

Her face hardened, a mixture of guilt and defiance flashing across her features. “Of course, I didn’t fucking want you!” she shouted, the admission slicing through the air. “I was twenty years old! I didn’t want a kid, and guess what? I can’t change that! I can’t just grab you and shove you back into my fucking uterus, can I? But i didn't abandon you, Iㅡ"

“I already knew that,” you whispered, your voice hollow. “You didn’t know,” she snapped, her eyes blazing. “You didn't know shit! You’re just trying to make me the bad guy so you can feel better about the awful, disgusting thing that you did.” The room seemed to pulse. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “But it did, and I can’t change it.” She shook her head, her hands trembling. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’ve destroyed everything. Our family. My marriage. Everything.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left your lips. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t help how I feel.”

“You’re just like him,” she spat. “Selfish. Just like your fucking dad."

taglist ⭐️ ㅡ @eviispunk @joeldjarin @whimsiwitchy @guelyury @untamedheart81 @dollyxzy @mybvalentine @am-3-thyst @klajmekk @cuteanimalmama @corinnedollete @vickie5446 @gabymalikk

[jackass-jones]

Mizuki and Date though like. Imagine being 8 and your parents are filthy rich and going through a bad divorce. Your mom treats you like shit, lashing out at you, hitting you, saying she wishes you were never born all because you were behaving like a child. Your dad is more comforting, but he doesn’t do anything to stop the abuse and he spends his time invested in a completely different family, a girl who you love and look up to but he loves her more than you and it fucking shows. Then your dads new friend, some fucking bachelor in his late 20s, is just like "wow you guys are the worst fucking parents ive ever seen" and next thing you know your dad is sending you off to live with him. And it’s just a massive kick in the head cuz you go from a rich lifestyle to living in some really shitty tiny ass apartment with this guy who’s clearly never been around a child in his entire life and he doesn’t know how to behave and does a really bad job of censoring himself like he has a bunch of dirty magazines that he can’t hide very well cuz it’s literally a studio apartment and also he talks to himself sometimes, it’s really weird. He doesn’t even have the slightest clue what he’s doing

And he’s the best parent you’ve ever had

Because fuck, it all really hurts. You have to cope with having never received any love from anyone, and with the fact that your parents clearly don’t want you and can’t even be bothered to send you with anyone even kinda responsible. And this guy has a scary job with crazy hours and you don’t know anything about him and neither does he. But still, he never once hits you or tells you you’re not allowed to cry. He just gives you space and doesn’t push you to feel any sort of way about him. And sometimes, he’s even kind. He makes you some stew, even though it’s a bit chunky. He lets you sleep in the bed and takes the couch for himself, even though he complains about the massive back pain he’d never trade his spot for a second. He pays attention to events at your school and gives you your favorite stuffed animal when you make good grades, even though you called it ugly. He gets worried sick when you come home with bruises and puts on a goofy voice and trains you to defend yourself and you develop some highly deadly skills and even though it’s really abnormal, he buys you a bench press so you can get stronger. There’s this distance there, and you feel really weird caring about someone who you aren’t related to, but you find yourself wishing it was meant to be like this all along, that maybe, he’s secretly your real dad and he loves you like his real daughter

And when you say "I’m back" he says "welcome home"

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter Eight

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

8/10

w/c:6.4k

Note: I hope y'all like this

It’s funny how you can be in the middle of something, and a completely random memory will strike. You’re at a red stop light, bobbing your head along to the low sounds of music, as you look into your rearview. Ryan is doing pretty much the same thing as he taps his fingers along the car door. He looks so much like Natasha when he smiles. She may not have carried him, but their similarities always amaze you. You think back to the time he was a tiny toddler, tapping his fingers along the car door much like he does now.

A small smile tugs at your lips as the memory warms your heart. Those early days were a whirlwind of sleepless nights and endless diaper changes, but they were also filled with moments like this—simple, yet profoundly beautiful. Ryan, with his curly hair and bright eyes, had always been a curious child, absorbing everything around him with an intensity that mirrored Natasha’s.

The light turns green, and you gently press the accelerator, your mind still lingering on the past. The familiar route to Emma’s dance school is lined with trees, their leaves swaying in the breeze. Ryan’s soft voice from the backseat pulls you back to the present. He’s telling you about his day at school yesterday, excitedly recounting a game he played with his friends. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself genuinely engaged in his story. 

“And I think another tooth is going to fall out if he’s not careful,” Ryan continues as he describes his time with Miles on the playground yesterday. 

“Oh yeah,” You say, reaching over to turn the radio down. “How’d he lose the other one?” 

Ryan grins, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “He was trying to show off on the monkey bars and slipped. It was pretty funny, but he’s okay.”

You whistle, shaking your head. “Boys will be boys, I guess. Just make sure you’re being careful too, okay?”

“I will, Mommy,” Ryan replies, giving you a reassuring smile.

"We still have a bit before Emma’s class is over," You say, checking the clock on the dashboard. There’s quite a bit of time left. "We could go to the bakery and grab some sweets. What do you say?"

"I like that idea," Ryan nods. "You always have good ideas."

"I don’t know about always," You shrug, "but I’m glad you think so highly of me." You quickly find a parking spot close to the shopping area. Emma’s dance school is only a few blocks away, just in case things let out early.

As you step out of the car, the warm aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafts through the air, making your mouth water. The bakery’s quaint storefront, with its colorful awning and display of delicious treats, invites you in. You help Ryan out of the car and he rushes to the door. 

"Let’s see what they have today," Ryan says, opening the door for you. 

“I’m raising such a gentleman,” You chuckle as he struggles to continue holding it open for you. 

Inside, the bakery is filled with customers, but it’s a cozy kind of busy. The display cases are filled with an assortment of cookies, cakes, and pastries. A friendly cashier greets you with a smile. 

"What looks good to you?" You ask Ryan, scanning the options.

"I’m thinking maybe a couple of those chocolate croissants," he says, pointing to the flaky, golden pastries. 

"Good choice," You agree. "And I think I’ll get a lemon tart. Emma loves those, so we can surprise her with one. What do you think Mama would like?” 

“Dark chocolate truffles,” Ryan insists, tapping at the display case. 

“Got it,” You nod. You place your order and wait while the cashier carefully boxes up your treats. As you leave the bakery, you notice a small park nearby with benches and flowering trees.

"Want to sit for a bit and enjoy these?" He suggests and he seems to be hopeful that you’ll say yes. You see his attempt at spending more time together for what it is. You won’t deny it. 

"Sure, sounds perfect," You reply. 

You find a shady spot under a tree and sit down, savoring the moment. Ryan sits next to you, practically curling into your body as you eat the treats. It had been a long time since you’d spent this much one-on-one time with him, and the realization tugged at your heart. Ryan’s small hand rested on your lap, his love for you evident in his need for physical touch. You figured now was as good a time as any to talk. 

“How have you been feeling, Ry,” You dust your hands-free of crumbs. “About me and Mama getting back together?” 

Ryan looks down at his lap, fidgeting with a stray thread on his shirt. 

“Hey, baby, you can tell me anything,” You assure him. You take his hand in yours. “Even if you think it will make me sad or upset. You never have to hide your feelings from me.” 

“I’m nervous,” He admits quietly, avoiding your gaze. “I want us all to be happy, but I just don’t want you to change your mind and break Mama’s heart again.”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to reassure him. “I understand, buddy. It’s a big change, and it’s okay to feel nervous. I promise you, I’m doing everything I can to make sure things work out this time.”

He looks up at you, his eyes wide and searching for reassurance. “But what if it doesn’t? What if something happens again?”

You gently squeeze his hand. “We’re all working hard to make things better. Your Mama and I are talking more, listening to each other, and trying to fix the things that went wrong before. It’s not going to be perfect overnight, but we’re committed to making it work.”

Ryan nods slowly, his grip on your hand tightening. “Okay. I just want us to be a family.”

“And we are a family, Ry, no matter what,” You say, pulling him into a comforting hug. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Ryan rests his head against your shoulder, his worries eased for the moment. 

“Can we talk more about why you’ve been so angry?” You ask, wanting to continue the conversation and give him the space he needs to express himself. “I know we’ve talked before about you hitting Mama. From my understanding that hasn’t happened again right?” 

“No, I promise,” Ryan shifts slightly, still leaning against you but with a furrowed brow. “I guess I just feel scared,” he says after a moment. “When you and Mama were fighting a lot, it was really hard. And when you left, it felt like everything was falling apart. Like my heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces every day. I was sad and I didn’t know what to do.”

You nod, listening intently. “That must have been tough for you, Ry. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I left you in the dark about a lot. I shouldn’t have been that way with you and your sister.”

“It’s just… I thought maybe things would never get better,” he continues, his voice small. “And I was so mad because I didn’t understand why you and Mama had to get a divorce. I didn’t know if you were coming back, or if Mama was okay. It was like I couldn’t do anything to help.”

Your heart aches to hear his pain. “I can see why you’d feel that way. It’s okay to be angry and scared, especially when things feel out of control. But I want you to know that none of what happened was your fault, and you don’t have to fix it all by yourself.”

Ryan looks up at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and lingering worry. “I just want to believe that it’s going to be okay. That you and Mama won’t hurt each other anymore.”

You wrap your arm around him, holding him close. “We’re doing our best to make sure that doesn’t happen again. We’ve learned from our mistakes, and we’re working on being better for each other and for you and Emma. It’s going to take time, but we’re committed to making it work.”

Ryan takes a deep breath, seeming to absorb your words. “Okay,” he says softly. “I believe you. I just needed to hear it.”

“I’m glad we talked about this,” You say, kissing the top of his head. “You can always tell me how you’re feeling, no matter what. We’re in this together.”

Ryan nods, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks, I love you.”

“I love you too, Ry,” You reply, feeling a sense of calm wash over you both. “Now, how about we finish these treats and then head to pick up Emma?”

Ryan nods enthusiastically, the heaviness of the conversation lifting as he reaches for another chocolate croissant. 

**************

Seeing the smile on Emma’s face when she spots you standing near the entrance of her dance class is priceless. She looks so sophisticated and grown up as she prances over to you in her tutu. You catch her in your arms, offering her a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Mommy, are we going home?” Emma asks, and you nod.

“Of course, baby. I’m going to spend some time with you, Ryan, and Mama before we go back to my apartment tonight,” You inform her.

“Does it have to be just you and Mama?” Emma pouts as you carry her over to her dance bag. You set her gently on her feet, gathering her stuff, as she doesn’t offer to help.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain. “Emma, Mama and I are trying to fix things between us. We love you and Ryan so much, and we want to make sure we’re doing the best we can for our family. Sometimes that means we need to talk and spend time together, just the two of us, to figure things out.”

Emma’s pout deepens, and she looks down at her feet. “But I don’t want you to go back to your apartment. I want us all to be together and have a sleepover.”

Your heart aches at her words, understanding her desire for you to be home. “I know, sweetie,” you say softly, kneeling to her level. “I want that too, more than anything. But for now, Mama and I have to take things slowly to make sure we’re doing everything right.”

Emma’s eyes fill with unshed tears as she looks up at you. “But why can’t we just be together?”

You gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. “It’s because Mama and I need to talk and work on some things. We love you and Ryan so much, and we want to make sure we’re the best parents we can be. Sometimes that means spending some time apart to figure things out.”

Emma sniffles, her lip trembling. “I just miss you, Mommy.”

You pull her into a comforting hug. “I miss you too, baby. And I promise, we’re doing everything we can to be together as a family again. How about this: we’ll have a special sleepover at Mama’s house this weekend, all of us together. Would you like that?”

Emma pulls back slightly, her eyes brightening a bit. “Really? A special sleepover?”

“Really,” You affirm, smiling. “We can watch movies, eat popcorn, and even have a bonfire or something. What do you think?”

She nods eagerly, a small smile breaking through. “Okay, that sounds fun.”

“Great,” You say, standing up and taking her hand. You stand to see another parent eyeing you from a few feet away. You connect eyes with her and offer her an awkward smile. 

“Hi, you’re Emma’s other mom, right?” She asks.

“Yes, that’s right,” You respond, trying to maintain a friendly demeanor. “I’m Emma’s Mommy. Nice to meet you.”

The woman smiles, her curiosity evident. “I’ve seen Emma with her other mom a few times. I’m Claire, by the way. My daughter, Lily, is in the same class.”

“Nice to meet you, Claire,” You say, shaking her hand. “I think I’ve heard Emma talk about Lily a few times. They seem to be great friends.” 

Claire nods, glancing at Emma, who’s now talking with Lily nearby. “They are. It’s nice to see them so happy. It’s great to see you around here.”

“Thank you, it’s great to be back,” You say before bidding her a good day. You know she had more questions than other parents usually did, and you didn’t mind answering just not right now. With the divorce, you had unfortunately distanced yourself from the children's activities. You hadn’t been present in their everyday lives, and the impact was evident. You almost wonder why Natasha didn’t push for full custody—she likely would have had a strong case.

Natasha, understandably, took on more responsibilities and became the primary caregiver during that time. She was actively involved in their school events, extracurricular activities, and day-to-day upbringing. 

Reflecting on it now, you realize that your absence might have painted a picture of disengagement.  It wasn’t intentional neglect; rather, the overwhelming emotions and challenges of the divorce had pulled your focus away from what mattered most—being there for Emma and Ryan.

“Alright kiddos, let’s go,” You lead them out of the studio with much to think about. 

*********************

“Mama, we got you dark chocolate truffles!” Emma exclaimed, offering the box to the redhead as she stepped through the front door of the house. Natasha gently put down her laundry bag, ready to catch Emma, who seemed very fond of running into her parents' arms.

“Did you now?” Natasha responded with a smile, scooping Emma up into a warm hug. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Yeah, she ate a few on the way here,” You mutter with a headshake, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Natasha laughs softly, glancing at you. “Well, I can’t blame her. These are my favorite. How did you know?” she asked Emma, giving her another squeeze.

“Mommy said they were,” Emma replied, beaming with pride.

Natasha’s gaze softened as she looked at you. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “It means a lot.”

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease. “We thought it would be a nice surprise. Plus, it was all really Ryan’s idea.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. “Oh, was it now? Ryan’s got good taste.”

“Yeah, he’s quite the planner,” You say with a chuckle, glancing over at Ryan, who is now watching Emma with a pleased expression.

Ryan, overhearing the conversation, walks over and stands next to you, looking a bit bashful but proud. “I just wanted to make Mama happy,” he says softly.

Natasha kneels down to Ryan’s level, pulling him into a gentle hug. “You always make me happy, Ry. Thank you for thinking of me.”

Ryan beams, his earlier nervousness fading away. “You’re welcome, Mama. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Natasha replies, kissing him on the forehead before standing back up. “I have lunch ready for us today. I always know Printsessa is extremely hungry after dance.”

“I am,” Emma says, rubbing her tummy. “But first, can I show Mommy my room?”

“I’ve seen your room before, Emma,” You join in the conversation with a raised eyebrow. “Is there something new in there?”

Emma nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yes! Mama and I decorated it differently, and I got some new stuffies. Come see!”

You glance at Natasha, who nods encouragingly. “Go ahead. I’ll finish setting up lunch.”

“I can help you,” Ryan volunteers. 

“Alright, lead the way,” You say to Emma, who grabs your hand and starts pulling you toward her room.

As you walk up the stairs to her bedroom, Emma chatters excitedly about the changes. “We got new fairy lights and a big rainbow pillow! And Mama put up a shelf for all my books.”

Entering Emma’s room, you immediately notice the transformation. The fairy lights cast a soft glow, and a colorful rainbow pillow sits proudly on her bed. The new shelf is neatly organized with her favorite books and toys.

“What do you think, Mommy?” Emma asks, looking up at you with anticipation.

“It’s beautiful, Emma,” You say, genuinely impressed. “You and Mama did a great job. It looks so cozy and fun.”

Emma beams with pride. “Thanks! I love it so much. And look, here are my new stuffies!” She runs over to her bed, picking up a few plush animals to show you. “This is Eloise, and Gertrude, and Penelope.”

“Whoa, where did you get these names?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in amusement. They truly sound like elderly-sounding names. Not that you would tell her that. 

Emma giggles, holding up Eloise, a fluffy bunny. “Mama helped me pick them. We wanted names that sounded fancy.”

“They’re fancy,” You say with a smile, taking one of the stuffed animals from her. “And they’re all very cute.”

Emma nods enthusiastically. “I like to pretend they’re having tea parties and going on adventures together. They’re my best friends.”

 “That sounds like a lot of fun. Maybe we can have a tea party with them sometime.”

“Yes, please!” Emma says, clapping her hands together. “You can be the guest of honor, Mommy.”

“It’s a date,” You agree, hugging her. “But for now, we should head to the kitchen before lunch gets cold.”

“Okay!” Emma replies, bounding toward the door with one of her new stuffies in hand.

You follow her back to the kitchen, feeling a warm glow from the simple yet meaningful moments you’re sharing. Natasha has set the table with grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. One of Emma’s favorites. 

“This looks good, babe,” You compliment without really thinking. You take a seat closer to her chair.

Natasha's eyes flicker with a hint of surprise, followed by a soft smile. “Thanks,” she says, a touch of warmth in her voice. “I’m glad you’re here to enjoy it with us.”

Emma, oblivious to the brief exchange, eagerly reaches for a sandwich. “Mama makes the best lunches!” she declares proudly.

Ryan nods in agreement, already munching on a piece of fruit. “Yeah, this is great, Mama.”

You settle into your seat, feeling a mix of nostalgia and hope. “It really does look amazing. Thanks for making lunch, Natasha.”

Natasha smiles, her eyes meeting yours. “You’re welcome. It’s nice to have everyone together.”

As you start eating, the conversation flows easily. Emma and Ryan share stories from their day, and you and Natasha listen attentively, adding your comments and questions. 

“So, Emma showed me her room,” You say, glancing at Natasha. “You both did a fantastic job decorating it.”

Natasha’s face lights up with pride. “Thanks. We had a lot of fun doing it together, didn’t we, Emma?”

Emma nods vigorously. “Yeah! And Mommy said we can have a tea party with my stuffies sometime.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Natasha agrees, giving Emma a fond look. “We should plan it soon.”

After lunch, as you help clear the table, Natasha catches your eye. “Thanks for the compliment earlier,” she says quietly, a genuine smile on her face.

“Of course,” you reply, returning the smile. “I meant it. It’s really good to be here with you all.”

Natasha nods, and for a moment, there’s an understanding between you—a shared acknowledgment of the effort you’re both putting in to rebuild your family. 

“I was thinking we could head over to your apartment at five?” Natasha mentions. “I have a babysitter coming over. Yelena is still kind of on the fritz so I didn’t dare ask her.”

“Sounds good,” you nod in agreement. “Is she still ignoring your calls? I didn’t know us getting back together would cause so much grief with your sister.”

Natasha sighs, a hint of frustration crossing her face. “Yeah, she’s still not picking up. Yelena’s protective. She saw what the divorce did to all of us, especially the kids, and she’s worried about me getting hurt again.”

You nod thoughtfully. “I get that. I didn’t realize she was taking it so hard. I thought she’d be happy we’re trying to work things out.”

“She’s just cautious,” Natasha explains. “She wants to make sure we’re not rushing into anything and that the kids don’t get caught in the middle again.”

“I understand,” You say, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’ll reach out to her too. Maybe if she hears from both of us, it’ll help.”

Natasha gives you a small smile. “That might be a good idea. She just needs some time.”

As the conversation shifts, you both start preparing for the evening. Natasha ensures the house is ready for the babysitter, while you spend time with Emma and Ryan, making sure they feel comfortable with the plans for the night.

At five, the babysitter arrives—a friendly woman named Sarah, who immediately puts the kids at ease with her warm smile and easygoing demeanor. She doesn’t need an introduction to the kids' routines as Natasha’s used her services before. 

“We’ll be back soon,” Natasha tells the kids, giving each of them a hug. “Be good for Sarah, okay?”

“We will,” Emma and Ryan promise in unison.

As you and Natasha step out of the house and head to your car, you can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The evening ahead holds the promise of important conversations and the possibility of taking more steps toward healing and rebuilding your relationship.

*****************

The drive to your apartment is filled with a comfortable silence, both of you lost in thought. Once you arrive, you take a deep breath and turn to Natasha. “Ready?”

She nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “Ready. What are you so nervous about?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly prepare for you to come,” You shrug. “I mean, it’s not like it’s dirty or anything. It’s just really bare bones and bachelor-y.”

Natasha chuckles softly. “I’m sure it’s fine. You always were a minimalist.”

You lead her inside, feeling a bit self-conscious about the simplicity of your apartment compared to the cozy warmth of your old home. This place has never felt like you belonged in it. It feels too much like how you’ve felt inside. Lonely. As you step into the living room, Natasha glances around with interest. It is an open living area with polished hardwood floors and large windows offering city views and tons of natural light. There’s a plush sectional sofa and a sleek coffee table in the center of the room. 

The dining area nearby features a stylish table set under a minimalist chandelier, adding a touch of elegance. The kitchen, equipped with high-end appliances and marble countertops, exudes functionality but lacks personal touches.

The bedrooms are spacious and well-furnished, with the master bedroom featuring a king-sized bed and simple, crisp sheets. The overall vibe is one of luxury and comfort, although the space feels more curated than lived-in, with minimal personal decor.

“It’s nice,” she comments, walking over to look out the window living room window. “Very you.”

You chuckle nervously, hoping she doesn’t find the lack of decorations or homey touches too off-putting. “I know it’s not as homey as your place.”

Natasha turns to face you, her expression gentle. “It doesn’t have to be. This is your space.”

You relax a little, grateful for her understanding. “Thanks. Let me just get us something to drink.”

While you busy yourself in the kitchen, Natasha wanders around the living room, examining a few books on the shelf and the simple decor. When you return with drinks, she’s sitting comfortably on the couch, looking at a framed photo of you and the kids.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she says softly, setting down her glass.

“Me too,” you admit, sitting beside her. “I’ve missed having you here.”

Natasha meets your gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. “I’ve missed being here.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. Despite the nerves and the uncertainties, being together like this feels right. It’s a small step, but an important one, towards reconnecting and rebuilding what was lost.

“What’s this?” Natasha spots the photograph on the table tucked under a bunch of notebooks and your laptop. It’s an intimate photo of the two of you on your honeymoon. You’re holding Natasha in your arms, her back turned away from the camera, kissing your cheek. Both of you look incredibly happy. 

“I’ve been looking for this photo. You’ve had it all this time,” Natasha says, her voice filled with surprise and a hint of nostalgia.

You smile softly, picking up the photo and holding it between your fingers. “Yeah, I kept a lot of our photos.”

Natasha studies the image, a mixture of emotions crossing her face. “I remember this day,” she says quietly. “We were so young.”

“Seems like a lifetime ago,” You reply, memories flooding back as you gaze at the picture together.

Natasha nods, setting the photo down gently. “Thank you for keeping these.”

“They’re memories I couldn’t bear to part with,” You admit, your voice softening with emotion. “Even during the tough times, they reminded me of the good.”

Natasha reaches out, placing her hand over yours. “I’m glad you kept them,” she says sincerely.

��Come here,” You say softly, pulling her closer to you on the couch. The evening had started feeling more like a cordial business meeting than a date with your ex-wife.

Natasha moves closer, resting her head against your shoulder. The feel of the room shifts as you both sit quietly, the weight of unspoken words and shared memories hanging in the air. Despite the initial nerves and uncertainty, being close like this feels natural, comforting even.

“You know,” Natasha starts, her voice gentle, “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed us.”

Natasha nods, her fingers intertwining with yours. “So, what do you do in here all day? Read books? I can guarantee you haven’t opened any of those on that shelf.”

“I have read some,” you cringe, feeling a pang of guilt.

You hesitate, not wanting to admit that you've mostly been occupied with work and the gym. The truth is, you often didn't spend much time in this apartment to avoid feeling lonely.

Natasha squeezes your hand gently, sensing your discomfort. “It’s okay, you know,” she says softly. “You were doing what you needed to do.”

You sigh, grateful for her understanding. “I just didn’t want to be alone here.”

“I understand,” Natasha replies, her voice warm with empathy. “But you’re not alone anymore.”

“You know, I keep telling myself that I…” you begin, your voice trailing off. “I kind of isolated myself from everything and everyone. No one told me divorce would be so hard. I mean, I knew, but…”

Natasha listens, her eyes soft with understanding. “But living through it is something else entirely,” she finishes for you.

“Exactly,” You sigh, feeling the weight of the past few months settle heavily. “I threw myself into work and the gym, anything to keep from being alone in this place. It was too quiet, too empty.”

Natasha squeezes your hand gently. “I get it. It’s hard to face that kind of loneliness.”

“I didn’t want to admit it,” You continue. “But being without you and the kids… it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Natasha nods, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and regret. “I felt it too. It’s why I pushed so hard for us to try again. I believe we can do this.”

“I believe it too,” you say softly, kissing her head. “What do you say we try out this cooking thing? I had all of the groceries delivered this morning. You had a pretty extensive list.”

Natasha laughs lightly, the sound bringing warmth to the room. “I do tend to go all out with my lists. What’s on the menu?”

You stand up, offering her a hand. “Let’s find out. I didn’t peek too much, so it’ll be a surprise for both of us.”

Natasha takes your hand, and you both head to the kitchen. You open the fridge to take out all of the ingredients you have. 

“Okay,” she says, rolling up her sleeves. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

You start unpacking the bags together, revealing fresh vegetables, herbs, various spices, and a selection of meats. It’s a well-thought-out collection. 

“Looks like we’re making a feast,” you comment, holding up a bunch of fresh basil. “What should we start with?”

Natasha glances over the ingredients, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “How about a nice stroganoff dish? We can make a salad to go with it.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agree, feeling a sense of anticipation. Cooking together feels like a new step in rekindling your relationship, it’s one of the things you used to delight in doing together. 

As you chop vegetables and prepare the meal, the kitchen fills with the delicious smell of fresh ingredients and simmering sauce. The act of cooking together, sharing tasks, and the laughter, brings a sense of normalcy and joy.

It feels intimate and cozy as you navigate the kitchen together. Natasha’s subtle touches against your skin make you feel even more worthy of her being here. Each brush of her hand, every shared glance, adds to the warmth of the evening.

“Hand me the mushrooms?” Natasha asks, her fingers lightly grazing yours as she takes the bowl.

“Sure thing,” You reply, enjoying the simple task of cooking side by side. The smell of the beef stroganoff simmering on the stove and the roasted beets wafting from the oven fills the room. 

As you roll out the pie crust for an apple pie, Natasha leans over your shoulder, her breath warm against your ear. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“Thanks,” You say, smiling. “It’s nice to have someone to cook for.”

When everything is ready, you set the table together, this is the first time in weeks you’ve actually sat at this dining table. 

“This is amazing,” Natasha says, savoring a forkful of the beef. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Only because I had the best partner,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

“We do make a great team,” Natasha agrees, sipping from her wine glass. The comfortable silence that follows is filled with the soft clinking of silverware and the faint noises of the city outside. 

You take a moment to appreciate the moment before deciding to dive deeper into conversation. “So, what have you been up to at work lately?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Natasha sets her glass down, her expression is thoughtful. “Work’s been busy, as always. We’ve had a few high-profile cases come in. It’s been challenging, but I enjoy it. Keeps me on my toes.”

“That sounds intense,” You say, nodding. “But you’ve always thrived in that environment. I’m on sabbatical, as you know, so it’s a bit different for me.”

“How are you handling that?” Natasha asks. 

“It’s been an adjustment,” You admit. “I’m not used to having so much free time. I’ve been trying to stay busy, hitting the gym a lot. Visiting my parents. Tony’s been surprisingly understanding about it, though. He knows I needed the break.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Natasha takes another bite of her meal. Her smile fades slightly as she looks down at her plate. She hesitates before speaking again. “Can I ask you something that’s been on my mind?”

“Of course,” You say, your heart rate quickening slightly at her serious tone.

“Have you… seen anyone else during our time apart?” She asks, her voice soft but steady.

You take a deep breath, appreciating her honesty. “No, I haven’t,” you say, meeting her gaze. “I couldn’t even think about it. I’ve been too focused on everything else, and honestly, I wasn’t ready.”

Natasha looks relieved, her shoulders relaxing. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been worried about it.”

“I understand,” You say, squeezing her hand gently. “It’s natural to wonder. What about you?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I couldn’t either. I just… needed time to process everything.”

You both fall silent for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling in. But there’s a sense of relief too, knowing that despite the time apart, neither of you sought comfort elsewhere.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say, breaking the silence. “It means a lot to me.”

“Thank you too,” Natasha replies, her eyes softening. “I’m really glad we’re talking about this.”

“I know we’ve talked a little bit here and there but,” You wipe your mouth with a napkin. “I never stopped loving you. I just..I was confused. We were hurting each other. I needed it to stop. It had gone on for so long and-

Natasha reaches out, her hand covering yours. “I understand,” she says softly. “It was hard for both of us. We were caught in a cycle of pain and neither of us knew how to break free.”

You nod, feeling a lump in your throat. “Exactly. I thought maybe some distance would help, give us both a chance to breathe and figure things out. But it didn’t change how I felt about you. It never could.”

Natasha’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I never stopped loving you either. Even when things were at their worst, a part of me always held on to the hope that we could find our way back to each other.”

You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her words. “I’m glad we’re trying again. I want to make things right, to be better for you, for our family.”

She nods, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “We’ll take it one day at a time. We’ve both changed, and that’s okay. We just need to be patient with each other and ourselves.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Agreed. And for what it’s worth, I think we’re off to a good start.”

Natasha smiles a genuine, warm smile that reaches her eyes. “I think so too.”

As you clear the dishes together, the comfortable silence between you feels reassuring. There’s no rush, no pressure, just the quiet understanding that you’re both committed to making this work. It’s a start, and for now, that’s enough.

“I don’t want you to go home just yet…” you mention as you both sit against the couch, much in the same position as earlier.

Natasha looks at you, her expression softening. “I don’t want to go home yet either,” she admits. “It feels good to be here with you.”

"Stay a little longer.” 

Natasha smiles, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I’d like that.”

 The only thing is, with you and Natasha, things never remain simple or quiet for that matter. You turn your head slightly, meeting her eyes, and in that moment, the unspoken words between you become clear.

Before you can overthink it, you lean in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Natasha responds immediately, her hand moving to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. It’s a kiss filled with longing, love, and a promise of a renewed connection.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless. Natasha rests her forehead against yours, her eyes closed. “I want you,” she whispers.

“I want you too,” You reply, your voice equally soft. Your lips meet in another kiss that has Natasha moaning into your mouth. The heat between you is tangible as if it could be felt despite the slight chill in the room. Natasha’s hands trail down your body, tracing the skin under your shirt, as you nibble her bottom lip. You lean back against the pillows of the couch. 

Your fingers brush against the soft skin of her neck, causing her to shiver with pleasure. She makes a move to lift your shirt over your head and you waste no time throwing it on the opposite side of the room. She uses her nimble fingers to release your breasts from their confines revealing your bare chest. You look into her darkened eyes, finding lust and desire coursing through them. 

You lift your head further, your hands finding her waist, as she leans into your touch. You kiss her again, her lips parting slightly as your tongue slips into her mouth. Your bodies fit together perfectly as if they were made for each other. 

“Bedroom?” Natasha suggests as your kisses lead further down her neck. You offer a gentle bite against her clavicle, delighting in the hiss you receive from her. “Y/n?” She presses gently against your shoulder when she doesn’t receive an answer. 

“Yes, right,” You place one last kiss against her neck before she stands. 

Natasha takes your hand, leading you towards the bedroom. The room is dimly lit, with just enough light from outside to create a warm, intimate atmosphere. Your bed is scattered with pillows and blankets, inviting you both to fall into it and lose yourselves in each other's arms.

As you step inside the room, Natasha turns to face you. Her green eyes are shining with excitement, and she bites her lower lip lightly.

“Where do you want me?” She asks. 

“On the bed,” You gesture.

“Here?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. She sits patiently, her legs slightly spread, as you unbutton and push your jeans down your body. You step between her legs, your hips swinging provocatively as you come closer. 

Natasha reaches up, her fingers brushing against your cheek as she leans in to kiss you. The kiss is slow and sensual, igniting a fire in your core. As she deepens the kiss, her hands wander down your body.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” You murmur. “Wanted you.”  

“You have me,” Natasha responds. You gently press against her chest, pushing her down against the bed. She rests against her elbows, watching as you unbutton her pants, and slide them down her legs. The smell of her arousal hits you and you close your eyes as you rest your nose against her pelvis. 

“You smell so good, baby,” You land several kisses against her mound before kissing a trail up to her lips. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Natasha says bluntly. “We can do slow and gentle later. Right now I need you to fuck me.” She practically begs as her chest heaves. 

[vickyyoon]

Dilf!Lee know

Genre : smut,

Paring : dilf! Leeknow x babysitter!fem! Reader

Warnings : just smut...

Synopsis : After filing for divorce and solely devoting his life towards his children, he found himself falling in love after years with the new babysitter.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After filing for divorce from his previous wife and taking custody of his children, Lee know solely devoted his life into being a good father but sometimes he needs a baby sitter to take of things which he does not have enough time for.

So when you came into the spot light he had a huge weight lifted off of his back, at first he didn't talk too much, observing you from afar but seeing how best you go along with his kids, you were perfect for his kids.

The way you keep on playing with each of them even though they make you tired and exhausted, the way you sometimes scold them like their your own kids, the way you entertain them, the way you never leave them out of your sight.

Your first actual interaction happened when you asked him if you could take them to the nearby park.

" Do you think you can you think you can watch all of them, won't they get lost?"

" No, I've been babysitting for a long time, it never happens, besides I see your children are really decent." you made him flutter for the first time, his ears turned red.

From the onwards he started to notice your decency and politeness, you were so gentle and child friendly but he also started to notice the curves and edges of your body,

You were so young, your body was snatched, skinny yet curvy, your hair was wavy and your collarbone looked so prominent, your huge eyes had sparks and your lips held a smile he engraved in his mind.

It was the first time he thought of loving someone again after years. He got closer to you, like a good friend. But getting closer to made him realize that it wasn't just sexual attraction, maybe he actually wanted to marry you and make you bare his children.

He wondered how pretty or handsome his son or daughter would look like with both of yours genes. Would be the best looking child he could ever imagine.

But was this attraction mutual? He had to find out.

It was Saturday night and you were about to head home after finally putting his kids to sleep, you decided to stay a bit longer for him to return home so nothing would happen. Mean while you saw his three cats, you gave them some food before getting up.

" Mr. Lee, you're back! I just put the kids to sleep."

" well won't you have dinner? It's very late, you look exhausted, it's my pleasure."

he sat you down to eat, he was a great cook, the smell of this dinner wafted into your lungs like scenting a memory again, he served wine in front of you, but who could deny such an offer.

Later you were turning a bit dizzy, the wine was starting to kick in.

" You look drunk, why don't you stay here for the night?"

A smirk lid up on his face

There he was shoving his dick balls deep inside your cunt almost ripping your cunt apart, thrusting so hard and suddenly pulling out.

You were so dazed that you couldn't make out any words. You pushed your hip back wards for him to push his dick in again.

" Ah so you want this? Why don't you say it? What is it that you want?"

" y-your dick please."

" whose dick?"

What did he want you to say?

" Mr. Lee?" your voice was muffled by the pillow under your head.

And he pounded into you again.

" Fuck walls so tight, better than what I could imagine. Heck, won't you let me fill you up with my babies? You can bare my babies?"

You were too young to be thinking about this but he made it sound so tempting and it made you want to give him hundreds of more.

You nodded rapidly.

Now it was clear that you too have been fantasizing about this rich dilf, wanting him to bury his cock deep inside and fill you up with his babies.

And there he came crashing with the hardest orgasm thinking about you, white loads painted your walls white and there was no doubt he got you pregnant.

" You do love me, right?"

" I've loved you since the day I saw you."

[nctinkverse]

Promissa Redux - Chapter 2

Synopsis: Despite sharing a year-long relationship with your current boyfriend, an overwhelming fear prevents you from allowing him to bond with your daughter. The upcoming birthday party of your ex-husband, Jaehyun, adds a layer of complexity when you discover he has a new girlfriend and of course it's Valentine's Day.

The night unfolds with a delicate balance of humor and tension as you interact with Jaehyun's friends, attempting to maintain composure in the midst of emotional complexities. The story delves into the intricacies of co-parenting, the lingering shadows of past relationships, and the poignant journey of rediscovering love.

Warnings: minnors do not interact!, for this chapter we've got angst, sooo much angst and fluf.

Pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

Word count: 3.558

Unauthorized copying or translation of this work is strictly prohibited.

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Chapter 2 - Valentine's Day

You were dating the same guy for almost a year, he knows your child, but out of fear you never made the effort to get them to get along.

There was always a voice in your head that didn’t let you make them spent more time together, it’s always the knowledge that abuse also comes from we trust, and you never dared to expose your daughter to other man without your supervision.

What type of mom would you be if you let anything bad happen to her just because you wanted a dating life?

That fear was bigger than any of your dreams of marring again.

For you, finding love once in a lifetime was already more than you could ask for.

So, ever since you found the ring box on the floor, fear has gnawed you so bad that you’ve been giving your boyfriend excuses for not seeing him for the past two weeks.

You can’t put it all on Nari, there’s a bit of fear on being in love again.

As much as you have tangled yourself with other man, you always compare them to Jaehyun, it’s a mistake and you know it.

But you can’t help it, not when Jaehyun was your biggest love of all.

And since 14 of February was in just two days, you were on your penthouse floor with your daughter, trying to contain the mess of the photobook slash scrapbook that became your birthday gift tradition to Jaehyun.

It all started when you got divorced and as always, giving presents to someone who has everything they want, is hard, so giving presents to Jaehyun was a hard thing too.

The photobook was born of your idea of giving Jae, something of his daughter, he was still an idol back then, and his contract didn’t allowed him to have more time with his daughter, so he kept missing big events, the first time she let her entire popsicle melt while looking at the ferries wheels, or her look of wonder when you took her on a small trip to an aquarium in Japan.

So your scrapbook was full of pictures of Nari, and little stories about all the messes she made the day that picture was taken.

But as much as you didn’t hate him, being at his birthday’s was always a tad bit weird…his group mates who you had also worked with back when you were still working for SM Entertainment, treated you the same as always, big hugs and treating your daughter as their own niece.

Other people, the people who were only acquainted with Jaehyun after he divorced you, were always kind of suspicious of your good relationship or did try to probe into your personal life.

You never assumed you were invited so you always waited for the invitation to arrive or for his mum to say something…maybe one day he wouldn’t want you there and you had to respect if one day he didn’t.

This year, though, you knew it would be different when Mama Jung called you a few days ago…

“Are you coming to his birthday this year?”

“Am I invited?”

“Nonsense, you know you are.”

“Okay so I guess…”

“He has a girlfriend.” She interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Oh…ok.” You knew about it already; Nari told you about her dad new girl friend.

“Do you really want to come my dear?”

“Does he want me there?”

“Of course, he does…”

You cut her “If he does, please ask him to call me…I know you will say anything to please me Mama, but he won’t lie, and I need to know if he wants me there…”

After that she said OK, and you both hang up.

It wasn’t until almost midnight that same day that Jaehyun called.

“My mom said you’re not sure you’re going to my birthday party…did I do-”

You promptly interrupted.

“You did nothing wrong Jaehyun, it’s just…you mother told me about you girlfriend, and I haven’t met her, so I don’t want it to be weird… I mean it’s your birthday.”

“No Y/N, it won’t be the same without you there and Yeri knows about you…I just never introduced you guys because I didn’t-”

“Jaehyun, I don’t mind really it’s just… do you want me there?”

“I need you there, Y/N”.

“Then that’s all I need to know, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

And that was about it, you were going.

It wasn’t the first time Jaehyun had a girlfriend, his relationships just never lasted enough to make it to his birthday’s you guessed, also a few years ago you thought he might ditch the whole birthday thing for a valentine’s date…but he never did.

He wanted to spend his birthdays with his daughter, he said once.

Even though his birthday parties were almost always full of family and friends he had to invite some of his co-workers, being an actor who worked almost always overseas, his birthdays were the times where he would also occasionally mingle with people from the Korean entertainment industry.

When you were still married, you didn’t mind it since you were in the industry yourself and some of the people you were familiar with or were a fan of their work, sometimes you knew more people than Jaehyun, since in most of the times, he was the idol, the singer and you were the one setting up agendas, coordinating the whole NCT media and press department.

But it became another thing entirely after you got divorced, most people would still assume you were married and refer to you as Mrs. Jung, other times you could pass by tables and hear whippers about the supposed motives for your divorce.

When the 14th of February approached again, you made sure to call Mrs. Jung and ask if she needed help for anything, she said everything was fine, just for you to show up on time with Nari.

---------

Still in your bedroom, pressing the snooze button on the alarm to remind you to leave on time, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. You bought a new dress, a new clutch, but still wore the same YSL stilettos you purchased with one of your first SM salaries. They were your favorite ones; they could be old-fashioned by now, but they made you feel beautiful and provided the perfect height you needed.

“It’s time to go, be calm, breath”.

 You told your reflection in the mirror while taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves. Grabbing the wrapped scrapbook from your bed, you left your room to check if the nanny had successfully kept Nari dressed while you quickly had a bath and did your makeup.

You smiled in relief when you saw Nari still wearing her cute strawberry-printed dress she had chosen herself. She was going through a strawberry phase; last month, it was a Hello Kitty one.

She didn’t notice your presence at her room's door, as she was talking to the nanny when you entered.

Observing her cute dimples, nose scrunching up when the nanny tickled her, rosy cheeks, light pink in tone, brown eyes, and dark, straight brown hair you thought she looks so much like him. Yet, when she smiled, especially with all the dimples making appearances, she mostly resembled you, especially the way her giggles sounded and the way her eyes and lips curved.

She was the perfect mix of both of you.

Noticing you at the door, she made a run for your legs, yelling, 'Mommy, mommy, let’s go see Dad!' She was always excited about Jaehyun’s birthdays; he would parade her for everyone, and she loved hearing the compliments. True to her father’s behavior as a child, people always found her smart and cute.

As soon as you both arrived, you made sure to drop his present at the designated spot, where presents were already piled up, and then made your way to the ballroom, where tables, a piano, people, and food were usually present.

Upon seeing her father, Nari practically jumped from your arms into the ground, making a beeline for him. A few steps behind, you got to him just as he had gotten her in his arms, and a man close to him spoke.

“Oh, this is your daughter, no wonder she is so beautiful, look at her mom a perfect example of fine Korean blood” he said approvingly with his head turning towards Jaehyun and what you suspected was his girlfriend.

You stopped on your tracks, a step or two from them.

Jaehyun was the first one to notice you, and probably saw the watery line that was already formed on your eyes, beyond your control.

It wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. But it still hurt.

Noticing that Jaehyun’s head had turned towards you, the man also turned.

“Oh an international nanny, that was very clever of you Jaehyun is she teaching your daughter English al-”

“She isn’t-” Jaehyun started to say still with eyes locked with yours. But Nari interrupted him.

“Mom, why are you crying?”

Diverting your eyes from his and landing on Nari you said:

“I’m not crying sweetheart.”

“But your eyes mommy”

“I know sweetheart it’s just the make-up.”

Nari was too clever and even though she didn’t say anything, she made grabby hands towards you. You approached the group and Jaehyun let her come to your arms.

Tucking her close to your heart, she crossed her little arms around your neck. You patted her back, and looked up to Jaehyun who even with you in heels was at least a head taller than you.

“Y/N-” He started with a soft tone, but it was no place or time for you two to talk so you just interrupted him.

“Happy Birthday Jaehyun.”

“Thank You, Y/N… this is Yeri…”

You gave Yeri a smile and a nod, and she gave it back. The man on the other hand did not seem ok.

“And this is Mr. Choi one of the presidents of MBC…Mr. Choi this is Y/N, Y/L/N, my daughter Nari, mom” he said firmly, his tone betraying a hint of anger

“I’m sorry I didn’t realized you had married someone who was not Korean, and your daughter looks so much like pure k”-

“My daughter is the most precious thing in my life she is the perfect combination of me and her mom, didn’t you see her big, beautiful eyes, she didn’t inherit that from me, I don’t dare to take the credit for her mom’s beauty.” Jaehyun cut him mid-sentence.

If angry was liquid, Jaehyun would be spilling over the man, it didn’t take much of you to realize it since Jae’s ears were bright red.

“Mrs. Jung!!!” You heard a familiar voice yell, Johnny of course, the only one who would still embarrass you with your ex-last name.

Yet, as much as he was annoying, you were grateful that he was approaching, you looked at him and he blinked, oh thank God, he probably noticed the whole situation.

“What are you still doing here Jaehyun…more guests have arrived, me included, and I’ve been waiting for you to realize me and Donghyuck are already here, but you didn’t. So, sorry Yeri, Mrs. Choi but I’m stealing those three.”

He said grabbing Jaehyun by the arms and making sure he was walking in front of him toward Hyuck, while grabbing you by the waist so you would unfreeze from your spot.

“I told you to not use the Mrs. Jung again John”.

“I know”

“Why do you use it?”

“To annoy you and Jaehyun, also, I think one day you might use it again” he said the last part on a whisper so Nari wouldn’t hear it.

You couldn’t do much, so you gave him a slight elbow punch to his stomach, being the exaggerated person that he was, he grabbed his belly in fake pain and looked at you with a pout.

Being 35 just like you, you couldn’t believe how much a dramatic ass Johnny could be.

You liked him, he just annoyed the shit out of you.

You three made a line for the table Hyuck was seated, Nari practically leaped to the younger Lee’s arms, she loved him, he was fool and let her get away with anything, he was putty in her hands. You talked for a while, but Jaehyun’s eyes were burning on your face, you could feel it.

When the conversation stopped, Jaehyun called your name.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Jaehyun.”

“Don’t lie.”

You breathed a long breath.

“Right now, I’m okay Jaehyun really, it’s not the first time…it just…gets to me more than I should let it get.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay, and I will be fine, go entertain your guests I’ll stay here with the guys if they don’t mind.”

Johnny had to butt in.

“Oh god we don’t mind it, actually, don’t think Doyoung’s wife would mind you keeping him safe from other woman, man that woman is OBSESSED, I don’t think she trusts any other woman with her man but shit, so much jealously if-”

“We know John!” Huck, you and Jaehyun said almost at the same time.

“Go Jaehyun I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, I will go.”

He turned but then turned towards you again.

“Where is my present!”

You laughed a bit.

“I just left it on the pile, don’t worry I haven’t forgot it.”

“Ok. Hum…can we open later, together as we always do?”

“Of course, Jaehyun.”

“Ok, I’m going”. This time he turned and went to entertain the other guests, later on his mom came to talk to you a bit, his dad left a small kiss on your forehead and carried Nari away.

Along the night you talked to the boys – yes, the boys from NCT127, all the 8 sitting at the same table, the chaos between shared stories and them drowning alcohol into their systems, Taeil talked about his wife, the latest recipes he learned, Johnny promptly jump in to ask when was going to be their next “family” dinner, Taeyong watched everything with a red neck because of the alcohol, his big black eyes focused on the conversation and talking a bit of sense to anyone’s crazy ideas for dinners or vocations.

Yuta was loud, talking about this rock concert he saw a few days ago, where the singer was an amazing vocalist, Doyoung said he wished he could also go to concerts with the guys but basically his wife didn’t trust his life in his friends’ hands, making an offended noise Jungwoo butted in claiming he had no idea why she said that since they were all responsible people.

Mark nodded, saying he had no idea why she thought that.

This time you butted in.

“Oh, please Mark, I do remember that time on a MV filming set where Jeno was on a dumpster lid and you told him to do back flips…you’re practically raised by Johnny, all of you are the perfect example of why man die first, just stupid.”

They all looked at you, offended of course.

Haechan was the first one to start the bickering.

“Watch most of us outlive you.”

“Of course, maybe 2 of you will.”

“I’ll outlive you.”

“Oh, please Johnny, if you manage that I might feel offended. I am outliving you at least by a few months since I’m younger.”

“Oh, please Y/N, you’ll probably die of boredom.”

“I will die of old age, and you will probably die while doing some weird shit.”

They all cracked up in a laugh, Johnny sometimes in the past was caught doing some hum, let’s say questionable things, nothing criminal, just, weird…but hey, not everyone’s got good tase.

And that’s how the rest of the party rolled for you.

It was already past midnight when you saw Jaehyun, go up the stairs with Nari in his arms. You quickly got up and followed up.

Nari had her own bedroom in her grandfather’s house, and her dad’s apartment as well.

Following close behind you opened your daughter room door, to find him tucking Nari in bed, you asked:

“She’s already asleep?”

“Yes, but she’s trying to stay up, so I brought her up, before she actually manages to kick her sleep away.”

She couldn’t even keep her eyes open; you watched while he covered her in the blankets and made sure her hands and feet weren’t out of the bed.

When Jaehyun finished, he got up and curved to give her a goodnight kiss on her head. You just looked at it, this is one of the many reasons even after everything, you still couldn’t regret any minute you had together, it was also times like these where you, missed your husband, your best friend.

You didn’t realize you were blocking the door, so Jaehyun touched your arm, it looked like he was whispering your name, so you let him guide you out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind you too, he asked:

“Can we open my present? Together like always?”

“Of course we can, but what about your guests?”

“Only my dad’s closest friends stayed plus the guys.”

“What about Yeri?”

“I sent her home with my driver. It’s been a long night.”

“Jaehyun…” You said disapprovingly.

“What?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“I know, but for me it’s just my birthday. She knows Y/N.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll go down to grab it, wait for me outside?”

“Sure.”

Walking down the other way toward the gardens in the winter chill, a consequence of wearing a dress, you admired the meticulously tended flowers by Mrs. Jung.

Footsteps approached, prompting you to turn. Jaehyun halted upon meeting your gaze, holding a wrapped photobook. His eyes, however, were fixed on the ground. Following his line of sight, you realized he was focused on your shoes.

You remembered just as something warm filled your body, you had sex with him, once, while wearing those shoes.

Shaking your head slightly, trying to erase the mental image of him railing you while you wore nothing but the black designer shoe with the YSL letters as part of the golden heel.

Coffing a little you tried to get Jaehyun’s attention, no doubt judging by the red tone on his ears he also remembers everything.

He looked up as if you had woken him. So, you said:

“Are we going to open your present or not?”

“Yeah sure.”

Following him to the swing like bench you sit down while he rips the paper with a smile on his face that remembers a lot like a kid on Christmas Day, you contain a laugh.

He opens and flips a few pages smile growing the more pictures he sees. Turning his body towards you he asks:

“Walk me through it?”

“Of course, Jae.”

Smiling, you get closer to him, grabbing the photobook and placing it on both of your legs. So, the story begins. The first page narrates a day at a park near your home with Nari. You swear, she stared at a little boy with brown hair and dimples, as if it were her first crush. It suddenly struck you—maybe this was her first crush.

Jaehyun frowned a bit, making a bit of a sour face at mentions of a boy.

“She’s 5 Jaehyun, chill.”

“I know, but tell me did the boy was nice to her or looked at her with cute eyes too?”

“He was nice to her, even let her play with one of his toys when she made a crying face.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Laughing you asked:

“Why is that?”

“Our daughter is beautiful.”

“I know…” You said making question marks at him with your eyes.

“If he didn’t like her too, he would be a fool.”

“Jaehyun?”

“Yes”

“That was cute.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I’m not cute, Y/N.”

“Still, it was.”

Letting out a playful huff he finally gave in.

“Fine, it was. Now, moving on to the next page.”

Smiling you kept telling to Jaehyun the stories behind the pictures and little notes on the photobook slash scrapbook. You both laughed a lot about how cute and smart Jung Nari is.

Upon finishing the last page, he turned his full body, legs still touching. It felt uncomfortably close. Before anything could be said, his hand reached out, gently tucking the strands of hair behind your ear.

Chills went up your arms, he noticed too, but mistook for cold, so you watched as he took out his suit out and wrapped it on your arms and shoulders. You still couldn’t muster words, so you let out a small thank you under your breath.

When you raised your eyes up to his, he was looking at you with so many emotions locked in his eyes.

“Y/N…”

“Hum?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

You saw him getting closer but couldn’t manage to move. Even if you could, you weren’t sure in which direction you would move.

One of his arms circled your back, landing on your waist. Pulling you close, he held your head with his other hand carefully while he kissed your forehead. Breathing you in and out, he started:

“Y/N, I-”

“I know Jaehyun, I know.”

And you knew, but you couldn’t let him say it.

Next Chapter!

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To everyone who has waited for this chapter since I promised to drop a few weeks ago, tysm for you patience, I hope it pays out the wait.

- Tessa 💚

Taglist:

@dulyrana @clblnz 💚

@electric-hearts @hyuukah @baeseungcheolie @girlinbangtan @johnbanana @fashion-addictedd @peachfulnight @angel63715 @daegalismybiasinnct @chloemargaret @phattyboo90 @oyasueme @peachfulnight

ps. there is some people I wasn't able to tag, so I will be sending the update on your DM, if you already read, pls ignore.

[eyelessfaces]

better safe than sorry

poe dameron x reader

edit: this story has a prequel!

summary: tired of fighting with poe regarding his recklessness on missions, you chose to lose him by breaking up with him rather than by him dying thinking you'll be less hurt, only the weight of that decision keeps crushing you a bit more each day.

warnings: obvious mentions of a breakup, obvious angst, mentions of injuries, mentions of death

tags: f!reader, exes to lovers, feelings (lots of em), bb8 is a child of divorce, absolute idiots (that are still) in love, fluff

word count: 2.6k

I had so much fun writing this<3

better safe than sorry masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

The suffocating feeling crept inside your chest every single time. 

Every time you walked past him, lowering your head so you wouldn’t be tempted to make the moment linger, every time you scanned a room and your gaze caught him far away, every time you heard his voice, during the meetings, or involuntarily, when you heard his joyful laugh erupting from tables behind you in the cafeteria, it hurt every single time you were reminded of Poe Dameron.

And it was a shame, because he was probably the most popular man on base, so it hurt constantly.

Alright. Maybe it wasn’t only being reminded of him against your will that made it hurt, because you simply couldn’t not think of him anyways.

Even when you didn’t see him or didn’t hear of him, the little details of your everyday life constantly reminded you of him.

His scent was still clinging to his jacket he had given you, the jacket you wouldn’t dare to wear as if you didn’t feel worthy of it. The jacket you still kept and slept close to, inhaling its smell as you curled up in your bed.

His towel was also still in your refresher, and every time you saw it you made a mental note to give it back through Finn, but you could never bring yourself to actually do it. 

It also happened that every time you talked to Finn your tongue was burning with the want to ask how Poe was doing, but you avoided the subject for your own good, even if it was a bit selfish. You knew that if you asked Finn to give him the towel he would ask you how you were holding up regarding your break up, and you knew that your facade would crumble.

You wondered if he suffered too. You wondered if the littlest detail reminded him of you, if the quickest glance in your direction made his heart ache the way yours did.

You secretly hoped it was the case. 

Not that you wanted him to suffer, you just hoped he… still cared. You hoped he still cared about you the way you still cared about him.

And he did. 

He had to battle with his own mind to stay focused on his job, because you were the only thing on his mind.

He could have replaced you. Quickly. Easily.

As soon as it spread around base that Poe Dameron was free, the ones that had been waiting endlessly for this moment finally took their chance. 

He could have replaced you. He could have had plenty of opportunities. He could have gotten laid to try to forget about you for a few hours. He could have tried to make it more than just sex and try to fall in love with someone again to forget about you for good.

But he didn’t want to, because the wound was still wide open, still bleeding.

And what hurt the most with this wound was the fact that he thought the both of you were doing fine before you decided to break up with him. 

Kriff, more than fine, he was planning on getting rid of the ring on the chain around his neck so it could go at your finger. 

He didn't want to bandage this wound.

—

It's the afternoon and as you're making your way to the hangar to try to finally fix the wonky lever on your ship to avoid getting killed, your head turns at the sound of panicked and frantic beeps, and you spot BB-8 rolling towards your direction through the hallway you’re walking in. 

He slaloms through and around the crowd of people in his way, and they’re just like you, staring down at him, surprised at how fast the little droid is; it's surprising that sparks aren't forming under him on the floor.

Once the droid is down at your feet he doesn't stop rolling, but now he's doing circles around you, still making a cacophony of erratic beeps. 

You can't even figure out what he's trying to tell you considering how untamed he's being, and if he’s panicked, his behavior is starting to make you feel the same way. 

"Calm down Beebs, what's going on?" you coo, going down at his level, one knee on the floor. He rolls over and stops in front of you, beeping more composedly this time.

You frown as he beeps, readjusting your position. "Poe's hurt?" the words make your heart jump as you pronounce them, and every thought drowns in your head.

The droid beeps again to confirm, and you give him a small nod, biting on your bottom lip before getting up on both your feet and hurrying to medbay, the droid heeling you. 

You try to catch your breath once you finally arrive there, and as you can hear your heart beating in your chest in loud thuds, your heart actually sinks once you see Poe. 

It doesn’t sink in despair or in profound worry, it sinks in disbelief.

It sinks in disbelief because besides a broken arm enveloped in a cloth held by his neck, Poe seems perfectly fine. His head turns to you as he’s sitting on the edge of the medbay bed, and he looks surprised that you're here. You can understand.

You sigh and throw your head back, cursing the droid for making you worry so much and embarrassing you. 

You feel relieved that Poe is alright, but you also feel awful for the situation BB just put you in.

BB comes behind you and beeps joyfully, and Poe looks down at him and laughs. "Oh buddy you didn’t just do what I think you did, did you?"

The droid looks proud, his plan has worked.

You sigh again, tucking your hands in your pants back pockets. “He's a good actor. I truly thought you were dying.” you turn to BB, and point at him accusingly. “I can’t believe you just did that.” you hiss, and the droid keeps on beeping proudly.

"Why did you do that?" Poe asks, lowkey impressed, as his eyes follow the little droid rolling over to him. BB doesn't reply and just parks at the feet of his master.

You look around the room, not sure of what you should do now that you're here. You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed across from Poe.

"Are you okay though?" you ask, throwing your chin at your ex boyfriend's injured arm.

“Well life’s not exactly the same since we–”

“Oh– I was talking about your arm” you cut him off, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. 

No matter how hard you tried, this encounter would just be awkward huh?

"Oh yeah, just a rough landing.” he declares chuckling, looking down at his arm. “It's gonna take more than that to kill me." he mutters, his gaze darting to BB-8.

“This is exactly why I broke up with you, you know.” you throw accusingly, and he pinches his lips in a smile.

“Yet you still ran to me when you heard I got hurt” he can't hide the smirk on his face, he doesn't want to anyways.

You want to tell him that BB made it sound like he was dying so of course you wanted to be by his side, because you still care about him, but you decide to keep your mouth shut because whatever will come out of it will for sure make you want to dig your own grave.

So you chuckle and look down at your feet, and when you decide that you should probably go, he speaks again.

"You know you're kind of like his mother" he smiles softly, breaking the silence as he looks down at the droid at his feet.

You scoff, but your heart actually skips a beat. "Yeah so we're his divorced parents, right" you joke, though it’s half true, and it’s a miracle your voice doesn’t flinch because a small lump is slowly starting to form in your throat.

Poe grins timidly, and you look down at BB looking back and forth between you and Poe.

You want to speak again, but so does he, so you’re both blabbering out incoherent mumbles at the same time. 

You both laugh, and he points at you with his valid hand.

“You first” he offers, cocking an eyebrow, wondering what you were saying.

“I was about to say I should probably go.” you nod, sinking your hands into your pants pockets.

“Oh” 

“You?”

He bites down on his lip before talking. “I miss you. I was about to say I miss you.” 

You close your eyes and sigh, and the lump in your throat only keeps on growing bigger. You shouldn't feel so sad, because you brought this upon yourself, but you can't help it.

“I know. I mean– me too.” you nod, looking up at him. He looks sorry, and you feel sorry. "I miss you too." you admit, and admitting it only makes it feel even more real.

He weakly smiles at you, and the atmosphere in this room becomes too much, and you feel the need to leave.

"Okay. I should get going. Be careful with that arm" you softly smile before walking out the room.

—

There’s a good chance you’re experiencing the frequency illusion – the phenomenon of learning the meaning of a word then hearing it everywhere, because the frequency at which you accidentally run into Poe after your encounter in medbay is quite embarrassing. 

Awkward smiles are your only exchange, but the way he pinches his lips when he smiles at you makes you want to kiss them every single time.

Another downside of it is also that the more you see glimpses of him, the more you want to see him. Properly. It’s becoming a problem.

And the more you try to ignore it the more you’re reminded of the problem in question, and it’s a never ending circle.

Which is why you’re standing outside his quarters with his towel in hand, and while you’re still hesitating whether to do this or not, there’s part of you that tells you that this is absolutely stupid.

But there’s also that other part of you that craves the sight of him, the sound of his voice, his smell, his touch, the taste of his lips, and that part of you takes control and buzzes at his door.

It opens a few moments later, and BB-8 rolls behind him, beeping happily. You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your mouth, and Poe looks back at his droid, chuckling.

“It’s, uh– your towel.” you say, handing him it. He looks up at you then at it before taking it from your hand. “I’ve been meaning to give it back for a while but I kept forgetting”

“It’s just a towel, you could have kept it, you know.” he chuckles, throwing the cloth on his console.

“Yeah. It’s not just about the towel. I wanted to see you.” you admit, refraining your smile. You do a poor job at holding it back when a smug smile appears on his face.

“Oh yeah? You wanted to see me?” he asks smugly, leaning his forearm against the doorframe.

“Mmh” you nod, raising your eyebrows. He gestures for you to come in, and you kneel down to rub BB-8's head, making him roll on himself. “How’s your arm?” you ask looking up at Poe.

“Good. All healed up.” he nods, looking down at BB who leaves the room as if to give you some privacy.

"Good." you sigh, standing back up, placing yourself to stand in front of him. There's a strand of your hair that falls in front of your face, and he takes care of pushing it away, the tip of his fingers softly brushing against your forehead, his hand then resting at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder.

The gesture makes your breath catch in your throat, as if you're a teenager with a crush when you know Poe so well and you're accustomed to his soft gestures. 

You guess the context is what makes it so special, so fragile.

You lightly clear your throat, doing your best to seem composed.

“I uh, it’s stupid. The reason I broke up with you is stupid. I got so scared the other day when I heard you got hurt and my only thought was ‘You’re stupid, all of this is so stupid, he’s gonna die thinking you don’t love him and thinking your principles matter more than him’.” you start, and he opens his mouth but you continue to speak before he can. 

“This is not what happened because you weren’t really dying but that thought has been haunting me ever since. Away from you or not you’re gonna get hurt anyways and I’m gonna be in love with you anyways and I can’t change the way you are so if I had to choose, I’d rather be by your side.” you nod, chuckling nervously, your heart beating so fast you wonder if he can hear it.

He softly chews on his bottom lip, nodding.

“Okay.” he whispers, and he sighs before pulling you into his arms. A sigh of relief escapes your mouth as your forehead rests against his shoulder, and your arms wrap around him as he cups the back of your head. “It’s my fault too. I’m sorry. I’ll change, I promise” he whispers into your ear, and you look back at him, putting a hand to his face.

“I’m not asking you to change for me. I’m asking you to be a little more careful.” 

He nods before leaning in and kissing you, and you can only deepen it.

It is probably the most healing kiss you’ve ever exchanged, and when you pull away you still remain close. Your nose brushes against his as you play with the curls behind his ears, and his eyes crinkle as he softly smiles at you before leaving some more light kisses at your lips. 

He rests his forehead against yours before pulling away, and he comes back to reality at that moment, and you can see something looks wrong when he starts pacing around, his hands over his hips.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." he declares, looking back at you. "I signed up for a month-long mission." he can see the frustrated look in your eyes, and he almost feels guilty for leaving you so soon after you've been reunited.

“A month long?” you repeat, and he slowly nods, pinching his lips. "Poe Dameron you better come back al–"

"–Yes I promise you, I'll come back alive, and without a scratch" he cuts you off, chuckling. "I promise. No risky maneuvers." he assures, taking a step closer to you.

"Alright." you smile, bringing him closer to kiss him again.

You fall asleep clinging to each other, his back pressed flush against your chest and your arms tightly wrapped around him.

When you wake up the next morning, he's already long gone, his side of the bed so cold you could even doubt he has ever been there if you didn’t have the vague memory of him leaving a kiss on your forehead before he left his own quarters.

The month where he's gone feels like the longest month of your life, but the reward of it is that when he comes back he's exactly the way he was when he left, not a single scratch in sight. 

He begs you to take a day off of work to spend time with him and catch up, and during that day he brings you to a pretty planet he discovered while on mission where he asks you to marry him, the ring around his chain finally finding its right place after so many years.

—

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[from-the-clouds]

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

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chapter summary: you grow closer with sarah, and also with joel... pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.2k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY - oral sex (m receiving). alcohol consumption. Some angst, but mostly fluff, references to divorces/getting remarried/stepparents. anxious thoughts. a/n: this chapter is probably the least heavy. s/o to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about it, as always. lots of character/relationship/backstory for both joel and reader. i give reader a childhood nickname in this story, but it's not her actual name. also i made up a backstory for joel because he deserves it. hope you enjoy!

-June 5th, 2003-

“I think you missed a spot.”

“Yeah, that’s because you won’t hold still.”

Sarah scolds you for what feels like the hundredth time since you sat down. You feel a bit like a rambunctious child, and not so much a grown woman who has over fifteen years on her with the way she’s talking to you. To keep from giggling, you press your lips together tightly.

“You’re the one who begged to do this.”

“I did not,” she says, lacing mock offense into her voice – even with her head tilted down so you can’t see her mouth, you can tell she’s smiling. 

Sarah’s bent over your kitchen table, across from you, holding your thumb between two of her fingers. Meticulously, she’s painting a layer of pink, glittery polish on your nails. It’s been awhile since you started, and the near-suffocating chemical fumes of acetone and nail polish had grown so intense you’d already made her turn on the fan and open the window above your sink. It wasn’t really helping. And she’s got her face so close to your hand – laser focused – you’re a little concerned she’s going to poke herself in the eye. But you don’t dare correct her. This is a weekly ritual. Every Thursday night, you give each other manicures. It’s far more important to her, however.

“Oh my god, relax your fingers, you’re so rigid,” she reprimands you again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, a bit sheepish. You’ve been anxious, the energy having worked its way out to all your extremities, apparently. 

To be fair, you could do without this. You’ve never really cared about having your nails done growing up, and still don’t. They’ll look good for about two to three business days, and then they’ll chip. It’s always this way, regardless of what topcoat she puts on that claims it will make your nails last forever – maybe you’re just too rough with your hands. However, it’s the one thing Sarah doesn’t give you grief about, maybe because hers always chip, too. 

You keep letting her do it, though. Partly because she likes it so much – and it hasn’t gotten any easier to say no to her. The other part is reminded of what it’s like to be a kid again. When you were first sent away to school, you always kept your nails painted - a small act of rebellion, of self-expression after being forced into the same uniform day after day. When you’d come home on breaks you’d beg your brother to paint his nails, run down the hall after him with a bottle of polish. Vincent would never let you, but he would always find a compromise, which was usually a walk through Central Park, and paying for you to ride on the carousel. He’d stand off to the side, waving each time you passed. In those moments, you liked to pretend that things were normal, that there wasn’t a dark cloud lingering over you both. Because even then, you’d known. On the walk home, Vincent would let you hook your mittened hand in the crook of his elbow, and you’d tilt your head all the way back to look at the tops of the buildings, the sun poking through the clouds.

Sarah draws back from your hand, then releases it delicately to the tabletop, placing the brush back in the nail polish bottle. “There,” she says, screwing on the lid. You both lean forward to admire her work. “I’m getting better aren’t, I?”

“You definitely are,” you look at the obnoxious color – Aurora Berry-alis. It’s the exact opposite of anything you’d pick out for yourself, but you’ve been surprised at the compliments you’ve been getting at work from your coworkers whenever you are going over contracts or pointing out revisions. If anything, you think it might make them pay closer attention when you talk. You nod at Sarah appreciatively. “They look good.”

“I think you’re getting better, too,” she places her hands atop the table alongside yours, so you can compare. You’d painted hers the same color, because you always let her choose. Well, it’s less that you let her, and more that she tells you, and you know better than to argue. The first time she’d painted them, and you’d suggested a coat of clear, she had given you so much grief about how boring you were, that you had given in and let her do whatever she’d wanted. There is nothing more terrifying than a teenage girl thinking you are lame. 

“It’s always easier to paint someone else’s,” you answer. 

Sarah leans forward, and frowns when her eyes land on your thumbnail, the one with the scab at the base of it. “You really need to stop picking at your cuticles.”

“I can’t help it,” you say sheepishly. “It’s a bad habit.” Particularly when stressed, you want to add, but you keep it to yourself.

“Well, it needs to stop,” she says pointedly, before planting her hands on the table and standing up. “I’m gonna get a ginger ale. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yeah, grab me one, too,” you blow on your fingers so they dry faster. 

Sarah disappears behind you, and you hear her rummaging through your fridge. “Do you not eat? Your fridge is basically empty.”

It’s only when she mentions it that you recall. “I do, I just forgot to go to the store this weekend.”

“How do you forget to buy food for yourself?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Sarah groans, and a few of your cabinets open and slam shut. “There’s no food here.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “I pretty much only buy stuff for you anyways, at this rate you might as well start chipping in on the grocery bill.”

“You sound like my dad.”

At the mention of Joel, you stiffen. 

Things have been a bit of a blur for the past few weeks. Between both of your work schedules, it’s been difficult to see one another, and even when you’re free – it has to be when Sarah’s away, which doesn’t happen often. And if she’s not in her own house, the second most likely place for her to be is at yours – so that makes it even more complicated. And both of you have agreed that she can’t find out. Because of that, you’ve only seen Joel a handful of times. 

“How is he?” you ask, nonchalantly. It’s a question you have asked her a hundred times before, just like you’ve asked after her best friend from school, Jennifer, or her grandparents, her Uncle Tommy – anyone from her life she talks about regularly. For some reason, you’re still expecting Sarah to hear these three words and sense that you’re not telling her something.

“He’s good,” she says, rustling through boxes. “Busy.” 

Yeah….busy. You could laugh when you think of the absurdity of the situation as a whole. There’s not a chapter in any of your self-help books that could teach you how to properly navigate it. So you’re left to figure it out for yourself, and hope you can without inflicting any permanent damage on her psyche. 

It makes you kind of nauseous actually. You knew her first. You were closer with her, first. It feels like a betrayal – and you’ve done enough of that in your life. This was supposed to be a way to start over, to do the right thing, but the sickness follows wherever you go.  You can’t stop it. What would happen if she found out? Would she be angry, mad, disgusted? She likes you, but as far as she knows, you aren’t romantically involved with her father. And that would certainly change things. 

Where it really gets problematic – you like Joel. So much more than you had expected. Well, maybe you’d been expecting it a little but not….like this. Of course, you know better than to be hopeful. Everything is still tentative, new. You’re figuring it out. It’s nice, at least, to savor the feeling while you have it, because it’s something you have felt so rarely.

All that considered, keeping it from her objectively is the right thing to do – for now. At least, that’s how you justify it to yourself.

“Actually he, uh, has been on a coupla dates lately,” Sarah returns to sit with a bag of stale Doritos and two ginger ales

“Really?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow, pretending this is new information. 

Sarah nods, and is careful to open both cans with the tip of a butter knife she brought over, so as not to chip her freshly painted nails. She speaks so nonchalantly, there’s no way she suspects anything. 

You test the waters. “How do you feel about that?”

“What are you, my guidance counselor?” 

You laugh first, and then she joins in, delighted by her clever joke. Once it fades, she surprises you by sobering up, quickly. “But uh….I don’t feel any way about it…I usually don’t care unless he introduces me to whoever he’s with.” 

“Oh yeah,” you say. “I remember when my dad did that. Always weird, right?”

“Always,” she repeats, sounding relieved that you understand. “But it doesn’t happen often. I think he’s careful. But things have just never felt….right. With any of them.”

“What, like, they weren’t nice?” 

“No, just….I could tell they didn’t really care…” she says. “About me….”

You want to tell her that’s not true. But you’d only be speaking for yourself, and this isn’t about you. 

“What about you?” she asks, and you realize you’ve been frowning. “Did you get along with your dad’s girlfriends when you first met them?”

“I mean, it wasn’t so much a meeting as it was my father introducing us and saying ‘Pixie, Meredith is going to be your stepmother,' and then that was that."

“Your stepmother’s name was really Meredith?” Sarah asks incredulously. “Like in The Parent Trap?”

You consider this, the realization hitting. “Yeah, I guess so,” and you both laugh. 

“Oh boy,” Sarah says. “Stepmom? If my dad gets remarried, I think…things would change…”

“How so?”

“What if she hates me? And then dad stops spending time with me? What if he has another kid, and they forget about me?” She pauses, but not long enough for you to shut it down without interrupting. “I mean, tell me what happened with your stepmom. Did you become an afterthought? ”

“Uh, well….” you wrinkle your nose. “I mean, yeah, but I was never exactly a priority to begin with.”

To you, it’s such a casual statement of fact, so at first, you’re not sure why Sarah looks so distraught by the response. “Oh, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to….” Her shoulders sag, just a little.

“Oh,” you wave your hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m fine. What I’m trying to say is from everything you’ve told me about your dad, and everything I know myself –” which is more than you think “– he would never let that happen.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” she says, bobbing her head. “But I can’t help but think about it.”

“Those are just thoughts…” you offer. And you’re no longer even approaching this conversation with the context of being the woman who is with Joel. You just want to make her feel better. “Doesn’t mean they’ll come true.”

It seems to placate her. “Yeah. You’re right,” she nods, and takes a sip from her ginger ale. “I do worry about my dad, though. It’s just the two of us, and I know he gets lonely. And who knows, maybe someday he’ll end with someone I actually like. That could be fun,” Sarah smiles a little. “So long as they don’t boss me around.”

“Boss you around?” you ask, taking a sip from your own can and raising your eyebrows. “I wish them the best.”

“Shut up,” she says, then giggles. “But also…fair point.”

Suddenly, you sit up from where you’d been leaning back into the wood of your kitchen chair. And it seems like as good a time as ever to change the subject, because you’ve far overstayed your welcome lingering. “Oh, by the way, before I forget…stay right there, I have something for you.”

“What? What is it?”

You rise from your seat, and walk a few paces to the basket in the corner of the room. “You’ve got that camping trip coming up soon, and it gets chilly at night….” You dig through your knitting materials until you find what you’re looking for. Once you do, you place it in front of Sarah on the tabletop. 

“What? No way!” she exclaims, picking up the baby blue knit cap in front of her. “You knitted me a hat?”

“Yeah,” you say, a bit sheepishly. “I meant to wrap it but-”

“It’s so cute,” Sarah cuts you off. “Can I try it on?”

“Of course, it’s yours.”

She jumps up from her seat and saunters to the mirror that hangs above the credenza just inside your front door. You follow her, standing behind her as she tugs the hat over her head. “What do you think?”

“Here,” you murmur, reaching over her shoulder to brush a piece of hair from her eyes, tucking it under the beanie, and pulling it further down in the back so it covers her ears as intended. Then you both look in the mirror. “I like it. Do you like it?” 

“Yes,” she says, incredulous. “I can’t believe you made this for me.”

“I’ve hardly been knitting lately because it is so hot here. And you’ve been talking about how excited you are for this trip since I met you, so…it only felt right.”

Sarah whirls around quickly to wrap you in a hug, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror behind her – arm across the back of the pink hoodie she’s wearing. There’s a vague sense of longing in your expression, and you wonder what it might have been like to have someone in your life who could have given you the things your parents never did. Maybe there’s still a way to right all the wrongs. And not just for yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 6th, 2003-

“Come in!” 

You’re closing the oven when you hear the knock on your screen door. It slams shut, and you peer through the entrance of your kitchen to the front foyer – just to make sure you haven’t invited an axe murderer into your home. 

The concern is fleeting, because you see it’s just Joel, bent over, untying his work boots and slipping them off. You like to think of yourself as easygoing, but you don’t allow him to wear them inside the house. All it took was some side eye the last time he’d tracked dirt all over your clean carpets, and then you never had to ask him again. But really, it was a minor inconvenience compared to some of the shit your past boyfriends had pulled. For example, this past year you actually had to utter the sentence ‘I don’t want you stashing your coke in my underwear drawer’ out loud to a grown man. So, even if the bar was so low you could step over it – and hardly bend a knee – it was something you had learned to appreciate about him.

You’ve made a roasted whole chicken – which is surprisingly easy, and mostly involves root vegetables and a lot of butter. Then it just cooks in the oven. It’s sort of your go-to when you actually decide to cook, but it’s too much food for one person. But you like that if you make it at the beginning of the week, you can eat leftovers for several days after. You hope Joel will appreciate it – not that you are trying to impress him, well, who are you kidding? You definitely are. It’s just one of those things you are ashamed to admit to yourself. 

You turn to the sink, pulling off the yellow rubber gloves you’d bought to wash dishes in – in an effort to preserve your manicure. “Hey,” you say, when you hear his footsteps shuffling behind you. 

“Hey,” Joel answers, and before you can turn, his lips are on your cheek, his hand on your shoulder, and he takes in the scene of your kitchen. “Would you like some help?”

“I’m good,” you look around. It was maybe a little messy, but the dishes were soaking and all you have to do is wipe off the countertops. It tends to happen when you cook. You’re not great at mise en place. Still, you have a system, and it works for you, and it stresses you out to have helpers in the kitchen. “Everything’s in the oven already.” 

Turning finally, you take Joel all the way. He looks tired. Shoulders slumped, hair mussed. You reach out, pull a piece of sawdust out from one of his waves, flick it into the sink. “Why don’t you go sit in the front room?” you ask him. “I’ll be in, just give me a second.”

He’s been busy, putting in extra hour into his first contracting gig, and it appears it’s starting to take its toll. 

“Okay,” he nods, hesitant, stepping back. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel settles onto your couch with his hands over his face. He’s upset with himself. For as much as he likes you, he’s barely seen you since your first date – and tonight, the one night he gets the chance, he’s utterly spent. 

He rubs his eyes, looks towards your record player in the corner of the room, some melancholy jazz playing over the speakers. In the kitchen, dishes clink together, and a cabinet shuts lightly. Joel lets his head loll back against the plush cushions of your couch, savoring the only peace he’s felt all day.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” your voice cuts in, and Joel doesn’t know how you had snuck up on him, but when he peers up at you, standing over him, you’re holding out a frosted tumbler. 

The floral apron you’d been wearing when he first came in is gone, so he sees more clearly the blush button-down you’ve paired with khaki slacks. Your hair is clipped back from your face, reading glasses on your head. He thinks of your coworkers who get to see you looking like this everyday, and gets a little envious. “What’s this?”

“A drink,” you say. “I thought you might need one.”

“Is it that obvious?” He feels a little guilty that it’s so clear to you what’s wrong, and you’ve barely spoken yet. Despite everything, Joel can’t help but feel warm, accepting the beverage graciously. The thin layer of ice coating the outside of the drink melts the second his fingers wrap around it, brushing against your own. 

“Only a little,” you give him a soft smile before clinking glasses.

It’s some kind of whiskey, served over ice and it’s fucking good. It goes down far too easy, and he immediately takes another pull. You settle next to him while he does, but not so close that you’re touching. Joel is no stranger to how tentative you are with him, still. But he likes you regardless. He’s holding something fickle in his palm, and he understands he’d better hold still so as not to break it. 

“Long day?” you ask, and reach out to trace your knuckle up his arm absentmindedly. 

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs. “Things just keep goin’ wrong.”

“And you’re the problem solver now?”

“Something like that,” Joel says. You’d already drilled him about the ins and outs of his job awhile back. Being a contractor, while it’s a step up from his last job, and makes him more money – is much more demanding. People actually answer to him, now. 

“I’m sorry…that sounds stressful,” you empathize. “I’m sure you’ll get a handle on it soon enough.”

Joel nods. Even if his brain has been telling him otherwise, he’s inclined to believe you. 

Carefully – but not at all hesitantly, you reach out, hand curling around the back of his neck. Its the same one you’d been using to hold your glass so it’s comfortingly cool against his skin – still heated from a day spent under the sun. Joel feels his heart rate pick up as you move in closer. When your lips connect with his own, the kiss is gentle, affectionate. A proper greeting. 

A flash of something, white hot, swipes up the sides of his neck, into his face. He’s a little embarrassed at the effect your touch has on him. Everything is still so new. And he’s hardly gotten the time alone with you to get it out of your system.

You deepen the kiss, it becomes deeper, more sensual, and he feels the switch flip. Almost as though you can sense his arousal, your hand slips down, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Your mouth never leaves his, you never pull away to look down, and he’s hard by the time you cup him through his underwear. And he’s still so taken aback he can’t stifle the noise he makes – directly into your mouth.

Your fingers hook through his belt loops to shuck his pants and underwear down, and the comfort of your body pressed against him disappears. Blinking open his eyes, he reaches out to pull you back. “What are you-” he cuts himself off when he sees you kneeling between his parted knees. 

In response, your hands plant high on his thighs. “What does it look like?” you ask, your chin tilting back, eyes glimmering.

Oh. 

“May I?” So polite, considering the offer. 

Joel nods wordlessly, and he watches you lean forward. His eyes squeeze shut right before you take him in your mouth – because he knows if he doesn’t ease his way into this, he won’t last. 

You don’t waste time teasing or kissing or anything like that. You’re not gonna drag things out. Maybe it’s because dinner’s in the oven and your time is limited, or maybe this is just how you are.

He aches, and in one go, you wrap your mouth around him and take him as deep as you can, he feels your throat constrict when you can’t go any further. Then, you do it again, again. It goes on that way, until he’s coated with saliva and the slide of your lips up and down the length of him feels as soft as the silk of your shirt, which he’s unintentionally fisting, trying to hold back. 

Your hands squeeze his thighs, massaging them gently while you work diligently. It’s fast, but not so fast he can’t enjoy himself. Sloppy, but he prefers it that way. It’s perfect. He thinks you’re fucking perfect. 

He decides he has to see you, watch you, and leans back to take you in more fully. One of his hands rises to slip under your chin, angles your face so your eyes lock with his own.  “Look at me,” he says, a little press to get you to engage. He’s learning how to push you– just enough to get what he needs without scaring you away. And he’s rewarded when you moan around him, the vibration around his cock only bringing him closer to release. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he murmurs, and you groan again at the praise – he relishes in how well he’s getting to know you, learning what gets you off – in the short time you’ve been together. “You look so pretty with your mouth full.” 

Then he moves his hand to sift into your hair, collecting it gently at your nape so it stays out of the way, and he can gently guide you along.

You pull off him for a moment, your breathing ragged, lips swollen and wet. You look so good, out of breath and overworked all just to please him. And you don’t relinquish all contact, your hand replacing, your mouth so you can jerking him off, twisting slightly at the top and letting your thumb run over the head of his cock. “You work so hard, Joel,” you mumble. “Just want to take care of you.”

“Fuck,” he growls at the words. Words he’ll remember on nights when you aren’t lying next to him in bed. He’s got to hold out a little longer, just to see what else you might say. 

It’s all you offer, though, because you wrap your lips around him once more. 

He’s getting close. It wasn’t going to take much to begin with – but it’s the first time you’ve ever gone down on him, it’s been a long day, everything is compiling together to make him feel hotter and hotter, the pressure at the apex of his thighs reaching its precipice. One of your hands leaves his thighs to cup his balls, the other working the part of him your mouth doesn’t reach. He loses all his composure, his head falling back as his hips roll forward, choked sounding phrases leaving him. “Keep going, baby – just like that– so fucking good–”

You obey, because of course you do, and before he knows it – he’s coming, hard. You don’t pull back at all, just swallow him down as he pulses down your throat.

Joel covers his face with his hands and tries to steady his breathing, thoroughly spent. He’s fucking hungry, still, but at this rate, he may fall asleep soon. Warm palms land on his chest. For a moment, he’d nearly forgotten where he was.

“You good?” he opens his eyes to find you hovering over him, amusement in your expression.

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles, reaches out. “You can’t be fucking real,” he murmurs softly, hand on your cheek. 

“Oh,” You pull back to retrieve your drink and take a sip. “I’m very real.” 

“Come here.” He rasps, pulling you forward into a kiss. 

When he attempts to deepen it, you pull back slightly. “Hey, uh…dinner’s gonna be ready any minute.” 

“Oh?” Joel asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “And I’m actually….well I’m actually kind of proud of it, so maybe we shouldn’t get too distracted.” 

“Really?” Joel settles on pulling you against his chest, and you settle there easily. He’s hit in these moments with the awe that you let him this close, that you’re willing to do even more for him, you already have. “Sarah told me you can’t cook.”

“What?” you say incredulously, your head lifting off his chest. “That’s not true. I can, I just don’t.”

“You seemed to know what you’re doing.” 

“I do,” you say confidently, then grimace. “Well, I mean, I can follow a recipe.”

Joel laughs. “I’m sure it’ll be good.” Your head goes back against his chest. He’s careful not to disturb you too much when he reaches for the remainder of his whiskey. “What is this?”

“Dunno,” and instead of reaching out for your own glass, you bring the hand that holds his own down to your lips to take a sip. He strokes your hair, watches you. “Bourbon.”

“It’s good,” Joel says, and drinks again. He wants to down the glass, then steal from yours like you did to him, but it tastes expensive. 

You continue on. “A client gave it to me today for some pro-bono work I did. It’s probably meant to be served neat, but….it’s too hot for that.”

“Nice of you to help them out.”

You make a noise of affirmation, almost dismissive, and Joel continues on.  “I should be doing more of that sort of thing.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug.

“You know I…..” you trail off for a minute, like you’re trying to decide if you want to share something with him. “All I do is work for corporations all day. I have to be kind of….manipulative? Self-serving. It’s a little exhausting. It’s nice when I can use my skills to actually help people, you know?”

“Can’t really picture you being manipulative,” Joel let’s his thumb graze over your cheek. 

He thinks you might laugh, but instead you pull back, your expression unreadable. It’s easy to see that you’re studying him carefully, and he strokes your arm, giving you the space to continue. “You should know I haven’t always been the best person, Joel. No one has ever really looked out for me, so….”  you trail off. “But I’ve been trying. To be better.”

You say it like you’re not convinced. Like you’ve been told it’ll never be possible. Joel gazes tucks your hair behind your ear reverently. “Wherever you’re at right now,” he says. “Is plenty good for me.”

“Yeah well,” your eyes flicker away – maybe it was too much. “Helps that I’ve been spending all my time with you and Sarah.” You smile gently, then change the subject. “Did you see, she did my nails?” 

Joel looks down at your hands. 

“What do you think?” you ask. 

“They’re very….pink.” 

“They are.” 

Joel is thankful that Sarah has an outlet that’s not himself for something like this. He tries to imagine what it would be like to show up at work with his nails painted, and knows that he’d get shit for the rest of his life. “Better you than me, I guess.”

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

He laughs. 

“Where is Sarah, tonight, anyways?” you ask Joel. 

“My parents take her out for dinner at the end of every school year,” Joel says. 

“Oh,” you seem a little surprised by the mention of his parents. “Do they live nearby?” 

“Not too far,” Joel says. “About an hour and a half drive out of the city, close to Fredericksburg. They’re on a ranch….out in the sticks.” 

“Is that where you grew up?” 

“Yeah,” he can’t help but smile to himself. “It’s different now, but….my parents owned a strawberry patch.” 

“Are you serious?” 

It seems like a different lifetime ago, but Joel still remembers it all so vividly. The busy spring season, visitors from the city flocking to his family’s little farm in the middle of nowhere to pick the ripe fruit straight from the vine. His father had taught him how to mend fences and keep the pests away, and his mother taught him how to tend to the plants, to prune and nurture. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Joel shakes his head, continuing to recall. “Tommy and I would always try to sneak as many strawberries as we could without our parents noticing,” Joel recalls. “And then inevitably eat so many he’d make himself sick, then we’d both get in trouble.” 

“Oh my god,” you shake your head in disbelief. “This doesn’t sound real. I need photos.” 

“I have them…somewhere,” Joel says, and he’s sure they’re buried in a box in the back of his closet. 

“It sounds so…idyllic,” you say, shaking your head. Joel had never thought much of it. Of course, when you’re a kid, your perspective is so narrow. Maybe he didn't realize how good he had it, and he supposes, to the right person, it might sound like a lie. It dawns on him that you're both so fundamentally different, but it doesn't feel that way.

A timer dings in the other room. 

“That’s the oven,” you say, shifting away from him and standing up. You offer him your hand to help him off the couch, and he bats it away, buttoning up his jeans before joining you. “Let’s eat.” 

Joel realizes that all the stress from the day has melted off, and he can’t even remember what exactly had him so flustered earlier. Right now, everything feels alright. 

---

tags: @netflix-imagines @waymorecake4me @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow @user294829329 @gushington-central @hollyismentallyillhelp @dresseduplikeacarcrash @corvusmorte @aheartgonewild @19891213 @emoslave44

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[bloodycyrano]

TEAM TADPOLE AT THE TAVERN. LETS GO.

Karlach: Currently drinking a very buff, burly dwarven man under the table. There's a betting pool going on who will win, and Astarion's already rigged it in his favor- nevermind the fact that Karlach could drink an elephant under the table anyways.- Had to help carry Gale and Shadowheart home after they had drank too much.

Wyll: Enjoying the music, enjoying a bit of wine. He has also broken up and prevented about 4 bar fights so far.

Shadowheart: Embracing her inner wine aunt. Maybe she doesn't socialize a whole lot, but she does enjoy some conversation with her closer comrades. She does get a bit more sociable when intoxicated, however, and talks *so much* shit about people in elvish.

Astarion: Has caught the eye of several other people at the bar. He has a naturally flirtatious energy about him- (It's called trauma) -And whether it's people somewhat recognizing him from him luring victims in the past, or genuine attraction, Astarion is a little uncomfortable with some of the unwanted attention. And now that he's free, he isn't afraid to voice it, either. He's also pickpocketed several of the bar patrons so far.

Durge: On edge, and extremely irritated. They've reluctantly grown attached to all of their companions, but Astarion especially (I can't help it, I romance Astarion in every playthrough). Being a child of Bhaal, denounced or not, violence is quite literally in their blood, and they are 100% ready to deck the shit out of someone should they need to- As an avid enjoyer of divorced dad rock, I feel like the vibes are very "Next contestant" by nickelback.

Gale: Started with talis card readings for random bar patrons, and is now very drunk, and spewing weird facts that literally nobody else asked about - Such is the curse of sad Autistic wizards. This is, however, one of the very few instances in which Durge enjoys conversation with Gale. Info dumping about special interests can be more fun when part of a drinking game.

Lae'zel: Mostly keeping to herself. She can handle a lot of alcohol, but she doesn't feel the need to drink excessively. She's not exactly having fun, but she is content. She tried to get in a bar fight at one point, but much to her dismay, Wyll put it to a screeching halt.

Honorable mention, Withers: Is the parent everyone calls when they're too drunk to get home correctly.

Outcome overall: It was a fun outing until Durge started a drunken barroom brawl, and everyone had to get involved. They are now banned from this tavern, and owe some money to cover the damages- Except for Wyll. Wyll made friends with the Barkeep, and got invited to their family gathering next Tuesday.

[creepycoffins]

Hi hi! I’m one of the anons that asked about your jotakak headcannons, and I just read your latest post about it!! I aye up every little bit of it, thank you for the meal 🙏

I have to ask though, do you have a general idea for how their first ‘reunion’ meeting after the whole running away/marriage/child/divorce debacle Jotaro found himself a part of? Was the forgiveness immediate from Kakyoin’s end, or was he a bit more upset than that? Was the reunion on purpose, or did they happen upon each other like in a SPWF meeting or were paired during a mission and things developed from there? The possible tension…

OOOOOO also also, what do you think Jolyne would feel about their relationship? Would them getting together lead Jotaro towards not being so absent?

Sorry if I’m badgering you at all, they’re just constantly pinging around in my head like a DVD logo.

Hiiii I'm glad u enjoyed my jotakak master's thesis here's some more

I have a general idea about their reunion yeah and tbh I think it'd basically be an accident. I don't think either of them would go out of their way to invite the other back into their life--jotaro because he thinks Kakyoin must hate his ass, and kakyoin because he doesn't think Jotaro is anywhere near ready for that, nor does he know Jotaro still has feelings for him (Jotaro left in the first place and kakyoin isn't about to chase him). I don't think Kakyoin would be upset necessarily, but it is painful for him to think about just because who wouldn't be a little bitter??

I imagine it'd be pre-Morioh though, maybe a year or so. Jotaro may have gone to the swf with the knowledge that he MIGHT see Kakyoin but realized too late that was a huge mistake, there's no way he could just see him and walk away satisfied. Maybe they're in a conference room at opposite ends of a long table, avoiding eye contact. Their ears burn when they have to present statements to the gathered associates. Maybe they catch the same elevator. Maybe theyre on their way out and bump into each other. But it's been like 10 years and god Kakyoins voice has changed, so has Jotaro's and ohhhhhh man a slow burn fic of this would go so hard this is a curse upon me!!! shaking my fucking fist!!!

As for Jolyne, I think part of jotaro's deal (at least in the first few parts) is that he is both the Rabbi and the Golem, the shepherd and the dog. He calls the shots and carries them out because he doesn't want anyone to get hurt if he can help it. Anyway point being that maybe, just maybe, if he didn't do that, if he had a partner to share his burden, if he let himself be vulnerable and soft for a bit, maybe he would've done better with his daughter. Edit: forgot to mention this man didn't really have a father either so :/// a little help would go a long way

Completely self indulgent but imagine jotaro having jolyne every summer. Taking her and kakyoin to the beach. Getting ice cream and driving around with the windows down. Sitting on their porch during a rainstorm. Staying up late building pillow forts and reading with flashlights. Camping in a tent in the backyard. In a kinder world, man!!!

Also ur not bugging me at all they're also bouncing around in my head like a DVD logo and having the excuse to write a bit is doing me good ty for asking!!! 💞

[enhaloverss]

Do you hate me? pt. 1

There we are, the day I’m being transferred is here. I can’t believe I’m actually leaving Beauxbâtons to go to Hogwarts. Everything sounds so weird to me, new school, new friends, new classes. I can’t lie I’m actually stressed about it all and not ready for this new chapter of my life to begin but I don’t really have a choice do I?

If only my brother didn’t go to Hogwarts and didn’t get fired for mysterious reasons.

Yes, I’m being transferred because of this idiot of a brother I have. Sam. He is two years older than me and he got expelled from Hogwarts a few months ago. My parents never knew why, the professors all claim that he was an ‘unstable’ child, and they’re not wrong tho, but my parents believe there’s something fishy about it all, so they’re sending me there to try and find more about it.

I told them it was a stupid idea and it was probably gonna get me fired too but for some reasons they believe I’m smarter than him and won’t get caught. What they don’t know is that I’m not planning to play the detectives at all. If I’m moving schools it’s to actually enjoy my time here and meet new people, what Sam did is honestly not my problem, if he wants to fuck up his school years then the floor is his, but I’m not gonna make the same mistakes.

The loud screeching of the train’s wheels is taking me out of my daydreaming. I’m on the platform ready to embark for my first year at Hogwarts, which is the third one there by the way. I would have rather entered the school in first year like everybody else but we can’t control everything I guess, even more when your parents are separated and one lives in France while the other lives in England.

When our parents divorced, Sam and I got separated too, he went in England with our father and I went in France with our mother, which explains why we didn’t go to the same schools.

A door opens right before me and I hope on, trying to get my excessively heavy luggage in.

Once I do, I start trailing in the corridor, looking for an empty cabinet I could find peace in to enjoy my trip.

After what seems like an eternity, I stumble upon one, open the door and engulf myself inside. I drop my bag on the couch of one side and put my cat beside me. One great thing about Hogwarts that we couldn’t have in Beauxbâtons is our pets. I sit on the couch letting a sigh I’ve been holding for a century and close my eyes, this year is gonna be something, I can feel it.

I open my eyes to a voice entering my precious space and getting me out of my princess sleep.

I look up to see a girl, apparently struggling as much as I was to get her things in.

-Hum, do you need a hand?

She turns her head and looks at me in surprise before breaking into a wide smile.

-Oh, hum yeah thanks I’d like that, I didn’t see you here, sorry if bothered you.

-No it’s fine.

I got up to help her put her things in the cabinet (where it could fit because damn the girl had at least a hundred kilos of clothes), and she sits in front of me, extending her hand.

-I’m Violet, nice to meet you!

I shake her hand before introducing myself.

-Y/n, nice to meet you too.

-I’ve haven’t seen you around, are you in first year? You seem older than that.

-No, I’m actually gonna start my third year, I’m being transferred from Beauxbâtons, I thought I was gonna be in first year but both schools decided that I had the knowledge needed to continue where I stopped.

-Oh that’s cool! I’m also in third year! Maybe we’ll be in the same house after your sorting.

Oh, the sorting, I almost forgot about that detail. I honestly think the idea behind is cool but honestly, putting a hat on my head in front of everyone for it tell my deepest secrets to the entire world (I may be a bit exaggerating but that’s what it felt like to me), is not really my thing.

I let out a sigh and let me head fall on the cushion behind me, while Violet grins before giggling quietly.

-Don’ t worry y/n, It’s gonna go well, it’s a bit stressful but I promise it only lasts like 2 seconds.

-Yeah? God I’m suddenly missing Beauxbâtons’ sorting method.

-By the way, why are you being transferred?

-My parents made me, because of my brother, Sam.

-Wait, you’re Sam’s sister? Sam y/l/n? The Fourth year Ravenclaw that got expelled last year?

-It is me yeah, and yes that idiot is my brother.

-Oh I see, this is gonna be really interesting, Jungwon is sure not gonna like you.

-Excuse me, who?

-Jungwon. He’s in third year too this year, he’s a Gryffindor. Don’t ask me why but your brother and him despised each other, I heard that it was because of the Quidditch, your brother was on Ravenclaw’s team and he is on Gryffindor’s team. They spent the whole first two years bickering with each other about who was gonna win the cup, and when your brother got expelled Jungwon got all cocky saying they were gonna win now.

-I see, I have some stuff to dig in, but I’m gonna make sure this kid understands we are not the same person and he has no reason to hate me, and if he still does I guess I’ll have to apply to be in the Quidditch team, make him see how talented we are in the family.

Violet’s eyes opened wide before she bursted out laughing.

-I like that y/n, keep up that attitude and you’ll make my school year 10 times more exciting.

-I take that as a compliment.

The rest of the travel got by pretty fast, with Violet telling me all about the drama between my brother and this Jungwon guy, and it was honestly amusing. I just hope he doesn’t cause me trouble.

Arriving at Hogwarts was actually truly fucking amazing, Sam didn’t lie to me about that one for sure. We went to the castle by carriage in the forest and even if it was a bit cold, the ride was really appreciable. I’ve always liked the cold breeze on my face more than the sun.

When we arrived we were told our baggage would be taken to the hall and to the rooms, mine right after my sorting.

We entered the halls and a lot of students were already there, sitting at the tables, not caring at all about the sorting but only about the delicious buffet that was gonna take place after. The director, Dumbledore, an old man with a long white beard, asked for silence and started giving his speech welcoming all of the new students. He looked ahead of him and stared at me for a few seconds before diverting his eyes somewhere else in the crowd. Looks like someone already knows who I am.

Then, Professor McGonagall, apparently a brilliant woman by the say of my brother, explained how the sorting was gonna go. Once she was done, she took out a list and before I could understand what was happening, she said my name. All eyes turned on me, not the first years of course, and I knew it was time.

I breathed in and walked to the chair in front of the director, before turning around and sitting.

Then, I felt the sorting hat being put on my head, and seconds later it started to speak.

-Hum, I see, a y/l/n. But you are different from your brother on a lot of points. I see loyalty, for your friends and family, you’re not scared to protect the people you love. But you are on the contrary really accepting, you have a high moral and you’re not afraid to say when something is wrong or right. Hard work is also important for you and you strongly believe that you have nothing without working for it. I think I know where to put you…

I closed my eyes and breathed out, ready to hear the sorting hat decide my fate.

-Hufflepuff!!!

I guess it’s not that bad, I like Hufflepuff, from what I know from it.

I stood up and started walking towards my table before hearing a voice I knew well now.

-Y/n!!

Standing right next to the Hufflepuff’s table was Violet, a smile on her face, waving her hand at me.

I smiled back and went to her, giving her a hug. We sat next to each other right before the buffet appeared. A long and never ending table of stuffed pies, rotisserie chickens, mashed potatoes, veggies, fruits, candies, cookies and so much more. Violet and I looked at each other before digging in and getting ourselves some well deserved food.

-You’re also in Hufflepuff I’m so happy, we’re gonna have all of our classes together!

-I know, I’m really happy to have at least one friend already, and actually, you were right, the sorting wasn’t that bad.

-See, told you.

-The only bad thing about it is the smell of the hat. I honestly don’t know if they washed that thing at last once in the past century.

We both laughed at that and we were enjoying the dinner, getting the know each other, since I was gonna share the school year with her, when I felt like someone was staring at me. I mean, a lot of people were staring at me at first but then went on with their lives, I wasn’t the main attraction, only the sister of some dude who got expelled, nothing to get excited about. But I could feel like someone was still staring at me, you know the kind of stare you can feel burning holes through your head. I turned around, trying to find the culprit when my eyes landed on the table of the Gryffindors, and on one particular boy. He was delicate looking, with sharp eyes but soft features.

Violet who was talking to me noticed I wasn’t paying attention anymore and turned around to see me having a staring contest with the boy, before I turned around to face her again.

-Don’t tell me anything, Jungwon isn’t it?

-Yep, seems like he’s already curious about the sister of his arch nemesis.

I playfully elbowed her and rolled my eyes at her comment. Seems like this year is gonna be full of drama.

[ltwharfy]

"Bob's Burgers" Season 14 Episode Ranking Rewatch (long post)

So, I've been rewatching "Bob's Burgers" from the beginning and ranking the episodes using the spreadsheet that @babsvibes created! If you want to know why I'm doing this or how I view the 1-5 rating scale, you can check out my Season 1 post! If you want to check out any of the other seasons, I've been using the "bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch" tag for all of them.

Now, on to Season 14:

Average (Mean) Score: 4.54

Mean (Most Common) Ranking: 5

Ranking Breakdown: 8 5s 4 4s 1 3

Season as whole thoughts:

I won't call it a comeback...but you can check the previous posts and see that the strike-shortened Season 14 has the highest average score since season 9 and that it's numbers put it right up there with my personal Golden Age of the show. It's possible there is some sort of recency bias with these ratings- with one exception (guess which one...) I've only watched these episodes maybe two or three times now so the jokes might feel a little fresher and make me laugh a bit more than they otherwise would. But, I don't really think that's the case. Rewatching these episodes I think that Season 14, like my beloved Season 7, features a great blend of humor, creativity, and emotional resonance, both within individual episodes and throughout the season as a whole.

I also feel like this was a pretty great season for the show's supporting characters: Rudy becomes the first non-main character to be the focus of an episode, we learn more about Zeke's past, they actually made me feel sympathy for Logan, interesting new characters like Will and Sam were introduced, and we get the long awaited (possibly only by me) return of Downtown Randolph Brackenbrown!

Some thoughts on specific episodes (and feel free to ask if you want my thoughts on an episode I didn't comment on):

"Fight at the Not Okay-Chorer-al": The bedtime story- and the way the telling of it went back and forth between the parents and Louise- was a really fun, unique way to break out of the normal world of the show without doing another anthology episode (even though I love those.) So many of the visual details of the western town were beautiful, compelling, and fun. And I'm a sucker for an emotional Linda and Louise story.

"The Amazing Rudy": I am totally normal about this episode. Writing two fics inspired by an episode within a week of it airing is normal, right? Okay, yeah...this episode emotionally resonated with me more than any piece of entertianment I'd encountered in a while. The way it captured the feelings of being a child of divorce- the stress, the anxiety, the loneliness-hit home for me so hard. I can pause this episode at multiple points and tell you about similar things that happened in my own life. And, while I know it's just a coinceidence, it's so weird for me that this story came out last year. Because when I wrote my first fic about Rudy earlier last year, I foiund myself crying while writing a line mentioning his parents divorce- and that lead me to think about why- and to finally do something to process how my parents' divorce decades ago had affected me in ways I hadn't acknowledged before- and to work to move beyond that. So, maybe it's a coincidence, or maybe the Molyneux sisters are witches who can see into my soul? Really, who's to say?

Okay, sorry to do two paragraphs on one episode, but that kinda turned into a weird autobiographical essay, didn't it? As an episode, I think this is top notch in terms of writing, direction, animation, music, and especially the voice-acting of Brian Huskey and Kristen Schaal. Also, while this might sound like a weird comment coming from Mr. "I've been shipping Louise/Rudy since the first airing of 'Carpe Museum'", I really didn't think about the end of this episode in romantic/shippy way until I came on here and saw some other Roudise folks squeeing over it. Because, while you can view it that way, I also think at its heart this episode is really a story about loneliness and friendship-about how we can all help ease each others pain just by being there for one another. And I hope folks can appreciate this lovely story of friendship even if they don't enjoy Roudise from a shipping perspective.

"The Pickleorette": That was fun! Really, both the A story and B story in this episode are a hoot. TIna immediately forgetting about the board game and scheming about how to see Pickles in the restaurant is one of the funniest moments all season. The lines about big sisters making mistakes so little sisters know its okay not to be perfect are some of the best moments between both Linda & Gayle and Tina & Louise.

"Running Down a Gene": I am always a sucker for weird dreams, and Mr. Ambrose always cracks me up. The Louise and Tina cricket storyline is funny and weirdly sweet. But what ultimately puts this into 5 territory is Gene's sweet song at the end- I always love when they have him write a surprisingly moving song (see also "The Gene and Courtney Show").

"Bully-ieve It or Not": It was great to learn more about Zeke's past and get a new (hopefully recurring) member of the 8th grade class. But the character I really loved the most in this one was Jimmy Jr.- in this story, he is the voice of reason, displays some emotional intelligence, and you see how much his friendship with Zeke means to him. Really, this is an A+ story for both Zeke and J-Ju in my book.

"The (Raccoon) King and I": If I need to choose an episode from the whole series to cheer me up when I'm feeling down, it might be this one. The storylines are all pretty low stakes (except for Little King Trashmouth) but the endings are all super sweet! Tina gets to "woo!"; Arnold, Andy, Ollie, and Rudy dance like the nerdy boys they are; Bob dances like the tired middle-aged man he is; Louise fills up a giant bowl with soft serve ice cream to bring to her friends (this is literally one of my favorite images from the whole series); and Little King Trashmouth and His Husband Gary are reunited!!! It is all so freaking beautiful, man!

"Fraud of the Dead: Zombie-Docu-pocalypse": Just a really fun episode- a great way to break from the show's usual formula while still telling a funny, emotionally resonant story. I kind of wish we could see another episode that was the "behind the scenes" of the movie from this episode- I particularly enjoy wondering about if Louise scripted everybody's lines or if it was more improv (Yes, I am particularly wondering about Rudy's "I don't want to be remembered as a complainer" line). Also, Louise beginning to sing in the documentary was one of the biggest laughs in the season for me just because it was so unexpected.

"Jade in the Shade": Putting this in here for Babs, as her reward for creating the spreadsheet and making it through all these posts, but my biggest laughs in this episode came from Cynthia and Logan's interaction. I think anyone who's ever been a teen boy with a mom can relate to Logan in this one. The Linda and Louise interaction is also great, and I loved the return to some of the settings of the movie.

"Butt Sweat and Fears": The Tina storyline and the way it ends- both with her and Sam dancing and with Jimmy Jr. leaning on her- is just so freaking sweet. It's also a really funny episode throughout (call me immature, but the stuff about Chelsea's potentially sick cat and it's poop really cracked me up). And it was fun to see Dalton again- one of those enjoyable recurring characters who I forget about until he's on screen! Funny, sweet, good supporting chracters- this served as a fitting ending to this short season.

Random thoughts (stuff that doesn't affect the ratings):

-Rudy was in six of the first nine episodes of this season, making me hope he was on track to tie or pass his record for most appearances in a season (seven in both Seasons 5 and 10). Alas, he didn't appear in any of the remaining episodes. Who knows how many episodes he would've appeared in if it was a full length season? Too bad the season was shortened by the strike. Rudy's kind of like the 1994 Montreal Expos in that regard. (This is an incredibly dorky joke put in solely for my own amusement, please feel free to ignore it.)

Is this the end of my Episode Ranking Rewatch Long Posts?!?! Probably not, I'll probably do one or two more with some thoughts on the series as a whole and sharing my writer and director rankings, since those were one of the reasons I found Babs' spreadsheet so exciting to begin with.

[back-alley-bardblog]

HEYY I've got a question: what instruments does everyone play? also who usually writes the songs 👀

A hyperactive imp runs into frame, grabbing the camera and raising it up before exploding into a greeting 

“The people asked so the people will receive!! Don’t look at the gap between the posts, it isn't real and it can’t hurt me!!”

“Gonna just use this as a way to let you all know about the others. Just for funzies!! You’re gonna love em, I promise!” Tobi places the camera down and begins to rummage around his room, tail wagging around in the air as he does. “But FIRST… I’ll show you what I do!!” Loud clashing fills the room as things are flung around as Tobi searches for their instrument, eventually he resurfaces after noticing it was leaned up against the wall in broad daylight. He promptly grabs it and holds it up as if it were a cool fish he just caught.

“I play lead guitar!! I’m not the best vocalist or anything but our frontman lets me tag in whenever he needs a rougher voice and doesn’t want to talk to our bassist! So like, usually.”

They smile, but in the way a child who just saw their parents who are desperately in need of a divorce argue for the 5th time that day would.

“I really like playing guitar. I sorta got into it thanks to one of my uncles, he had an old one lying around from his old rocker days and let me play it when I was a kid and eventually my parents got me one as a gift when I turned 13 and I've been doing it ever since! I'm pretty sure if you look around you can find some old covers of mine. Don't listen to them, they suck!"

They put their guitar down and get closer to the camera once again

“That’s enough on me though, I’ll go grab the others! Cedar’s on the couch right now so I’ll go get him first! Be right back!"

The imp comes back a few moments later, dragging a somewhat groggy looking human into the room by the sleeve of his hoodie. His square glasses seemingly just frantically adjusted and his hair shaggy and messy, the type of existence you can only really achieve after being suddenly awoken from an accidental couch nap. 

“Are you sure they asked for me specifically?” His voice was tired and monotone - but not angry. More just bewildered.

“Well they asked for the whole band but one person asked about who writes for us plus you’re like, the easiest person to find usually considering the fact you just kind of rot on the couch-” “I get it Tobi- You don’t have to-” “I'm not saying that's bad or anything, don't worry! I know the job market’s hard for you Cece!!”

He stands there in silence, biting his tongue a little bit before deciding to change the subject “What did you need me to do again?”

“Just say your name, what you do and maybe a few things about yourself if you feel like it!” “So… basic introduction?” “Yeh!” “Alright…”

He looks to the camera, raising a hand to lazily wave at it

“Hi. I’m Cedar, I mostly handle the vocals for us… plus generally act as the songwriter for us all since some people never bothered to learn basic music theory” “Jasper knows it. He keeps rewriting your basslines, remember? He says you aren’t good at writing them.” “What does he know about that stuff-” “The actual instrument.” “Yea well- he can- he can fuckin…” Cedar’s face regresses into sour frustration as he struggles to think of a response to that. Tobi pipes up again after a prolonged awkward silence

"y'know there's still a bonus bit of info you can give... how'd you get into what you do?"

Cedar seems to be snapped out of his bubbling fit of rage by the question. He takes a moment to think before answering "I don't know... bunch of stuff, really. Mostly an old friend. He showed me how to pirate music and some bands from over here and I thought it was pretty cool. Tried making my own stuff and that's what got me into songwriting." "What about the singing though" "I did uh... what's the word.... that thing where people sing... in like, a big group and uh..." "Choir?" "Yea. Yea Choir." "Huh... I can kinda see it honestly!! Dunno how you forgot the word choir though." "Tobi." "Oh. yea, right, sorry..." He clicks his tongue as a sense of embarrassment forms within him from his blunder before making a sudden recovery, "Anything else you wanna say before you go?" “Don’t listen to anything that blue haired dickhead says about me.” “Cool… cool cool cool… You gonna go back to the couch?” “Nah, bed. Night.” “Cedar it's 2pm…” “I know.”

He walks away, leaving Tobi alone in the room once again. He remembers the camera is still rolling and to get back on with entertaining “SO! That was Cedar! I promise he’s cool to be around aha- Great at what he does though! Don’t think we’d be able to function without him!”

They put their hands on their hips and make popping sounds with their lips as they think of what to do next, eventually remembering a pretty important bit of information "So uh... I'm pretty sure the others aren't home right now. One's at work and the other one just kinda wanders sometimes? He'll probably be back in like, an hour or something. My phones about to die soon too so I'll just make this one a 2-parter!"

He throws up a peace sign before ending the recording

[irkimatsu]

physical or emotional characteristics you would like in a human husk

Sorry for sitting on this for a bit! I'll admit, part of me was being autistic and overthinking this. Is this about what I'm personally attracted to in Husk, or what I think would be best for his story in canon? Is this about what he was like before he died, or what he'd be like if he could be human again after everything that's happened to him in hell?

I'm going with "how I see him as a human on Earth before death, and who I thought he was regardless of my own personal attractions and biases". (Well, a little bit of my own biases. No such thing as unbiased fiction. But accuracy is my priority on this one.)

First and foremost - human Husk is black. I will die on that hill until canon tells me otherwise. There could be other pieces of heritage in there somewhere - I don't think I'm qualified to speculate on that too hard - but as far as skin tone goes, he's black. I also like when art gives him dreads, it just looks right, though I'm not as much of a stickler on that matter. Gotta have some scruffy facial hair, though, I demand that much.

As for why... is it all the good fanart that made other options look wrong in comparison? Is it because he's voiced by Keith David and I just can't imagine a white guy sounding like Keith David? Those are definitely pieces of it. I know it's not canon and I'm not out here attacking people who lean otherwise on Husk's race, but as for me, he's black, end of discussion. On the shorter end of the average as far as male heights go, but he's not noticeably short in isolation. Definitely taller than my short and stout self. Weight probably fluctuates depending on his situation - his finances as a gambler would be all over the place, and so would his diet, varying between lavish meals in overpriced steakhouses, and dinners at home consisting primarily of cheese puffs and bottom-shelf beer. I do like him with a gut, though. Maybe he's just naturally predisposed to having a gut, even when he's starving. (Told you there'd be some bias.)

I'd definitely want to put decent thought about what it was like for him as a black man growing up in early 20th century Las Vegas, but without being 110% certain that anything I'm saying makes any fucking sense, I'm biting my tongue on that one. Definitely a topic I'm interested in, though.

I should also probably mention that yes, I know it's a common headcanon for Husk to be a trans man. It's interesting! I have no actual reason for not writing it myself. Not sure what to do with it, I guess? If it was canon I'd of course pay more attention to that aspect, but for now, whoops. You guys have fun, obviously! Just like with the popular ship, if anyone ever took "Irk doesn't write this thing" as "Irk thinks that thing is bad" I'd cry, don't do that

I like the name Oscar for him while alive. Saw it in a post on here once and it just felt right. Thank you, random Tumblr user I forgot who you are whoops again! Until canon tells me otherwise, he's Oscar in my heart.

I think his dress style while alive would match a similar trajectory to his Overlord-to-servant transition - a snappy dresser when he can afford it, would never be caught dead looking the least bit disheveled. Button-up shirts, freshly ironed suits, the finest colognes! But after he's a washed up divorced drunk, who gives a shit. His clothes are a lot more tattered now... but honestly, living in a place like Vegas where half the population are various flavors of downtrodden, washed-up addict, he doesn't stand out. At least he has that going for him.

Personality-wise, I think as a child and a young man, he was a big dreamer, even a bit of an attention whore. He's wanted to be a performer for as long as he can remember, ever since he started seeing magic shows and jazz bands as a kid. He may still be introverted in the sense that putting on a show is exhausting and he needs his space, but when he's in the right frame of mind, the stage is where he belongs. He worked so, so fucking hard to be a performer! He really could have been something if Vegas didn't chew him up and barf him out...

That dreamer attitude also made him a serious romantic when he was younger. If you accept a date from that man, he will spoil you. Flowers, fancy dinner (if he can afford it), a personal serenade... he doesn't fall into actual honest-to-god love very often, but when he does, he falls hard and puts everything he has into showing the person he loves that he cares. He does lean toward monetary gifts = affection, though... please, Husk, sometimes your partner really would be happiest with a hug and a song. But he doesn't see it that way, he has to keep gambling to be able to afford the lavish lifestyle his lover deserves. Fucking Vegas.

As an older man on Earth, after a turbulent divorce and decades of addiction and depression, he's a lot like the version of himself in the hotel. Doesn't give a shit about much besides where he's going to get his next drink. He does miss his dreams and wonder what could have been if he didn't screw it all up... but there's no point thinking about wasted opportunity. It just hurts. Drink it away instead. He spends his last few years alone, gambling and drinking and just waiting to finally fucking die.

Death was supposed to be a second chance for him, you know? He could pick himself, become someone again! Too bad for him that "someone" was once again a gambler, and that addiction is always going to catch up with him...

This is a rambling mess. I apologize! I just hope I answered the question correctly! Sorry if I messed it up!

[midwesternfields]

For September, films included The Nun II, A Million Miles Away, Insidious: The Red Door, The Darkness (2016) & You Should Have Left (2020). And then the series that I watched were: Virgin River, Power Rangers: Cosmic Fury, and s3 of the iCarly Revival (okay, but can I get a film as the series ending??? That was done back in the day instead of leaving us in a cliffhanger & actually wrapping the plot points up) – oh and like I went & managed to rewatch all three seasons of Pokémon Journeys + the ten epsiodes of To be a Pokémon Master, just bc I wanted to since I'm gonna miss our duo <3 (I have a lot of time during my mornings, cartoons are all I watch bc of the <30min each episode takes [have I mentioned the sleeping Pikachu plush I got during May from Target?])

As for October, which was quite productive, these are the ones I checked off my watch list – although I feel like I could've done more halloween classics, I can always watch those whenever :)

In no particular order: Lupin S3, The Road to El Dorado, Reptile, Nowhere, Spykids: Armageddon, Saw X, End of the Road, The Fall of the House of Usher, Five Nights at Freddy's, Cabinet of Curiosities, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Haunted Mansion (Owen Wilson, my beloved), Hocus Pocus 1&2, Ahsoka (waited until all the episodes were out to watch it because dear lord I can't do this waiting around thing sometimes and this just needed a full day dedicated to it), Haunted (collection series on n*tflix), Ghost Hunters & GHI (selected epsiodes that are favorites of mine), Session 9 (2001), & The Invisible Man (2020).

About half way through the month I found myself binge watching Avatar: The Last Airbender (couldn't remember if I'd already done that this year or not, so I said might as well [also reporting in to say that I still cried at the Tale of Iroh, scared of the day that I don't ngk]; took me 3 nights and that's only because I wanted to pause between each book lmao)

Picked up rewatching Psych again, and I decided I'm pacing myself with each season, so it's my "I've had the day off and have finished the chores, so time to watch something while we eat lunch" series :)

Bluey – if I had a nickle for every time a blue dog managed to entertain me & heal a part of my soul (aka the inner child), I'd only have 2 nickles, but it's weird that it happened twice, no? (Sleepytime is my favorite, followed by Camping [I'm a sucker for visuals of space], all the episodes with Rusty & when Pat [Lucky's dad] makes an appearance; honestly the whole series is adorable and so amazing) – just have s3 to watch now, plus the epsiodes that for whatever reason aren't on d*sney+

And then, of course, the long awaited S2 of Loki – I think I'm liking this season more than the last; Loki & Mobius have had more screen time together, plus Oroboros as a new character, and just how it seems to focus on the one thing with Loki not leaving the TVA (cue the way he found the way to control his time slips); just one more episode to go 😭😭😭 [it feels like good omens really with the silly 6 epsiode seasons; speaking of which, I've listed to the audio book version w/ David & Michael and it was just so lovely to listen to them <3 ]

January's brain rot was mostly Obikin, plus whatever else my brain has decided to completely blank on (it was a long month okay?)

February would like to add on Longmire & Miraculous to the mix, along with the yearly switching from football to baseball mode

[mexicangela]

everyone’s up in arms about even the idea of moving henry to richmond and, in reality, this sort of thing happens all the time in real life. life happens, families have to move for work, kids have to move because of divorce and custody battles, what have you. anyway that’s not really the whole point of this post.

the point of this post is to call attention to the fact that no one’s big mad about dutch guy having a young daughter who’s life would be uprooted if he and rebecca are to be long term. and the truth is it’s because we don’t really care about her. we didn’t see her onscreen until the very end and she was only mentioned in 3.06 so we don’t care about her the way we care about henry. maybe that sounds a bit cruel, but when it comes to media we work with what we’re given.

and, by that logic, how are we meant to believe that ted has a support system in place in kansas? we never saw it. never even heard him mention a current friend or other family aside from dottie that lives in kansas. how are we to know the life he had before richmond? besides, of course, the marriage he shared with a woman who played the “it’s not you, it’s me” card (“but actually it was you, you’re too much for me to handle sorry ‘bout it”). i can only assume they shared many, if not all, of the same friends and if ted went to the uk, then who would they have remained friends with? the logical answer is michelle. and, generally, you can have good friends in one place but when you go to another place you can drift apart. it’s human nature. so why should we think ted has a support system that isn’t all the way across the ocean?

and to talk on that point: that ted still has a support system, it’s just long distance now. well, it isn’t the same is it? talking over the phone or texting people isn’t the same as being able to see their faces, being able to reach out and hug them or take their hand. it’s incredibly difficult to have someone who is part of your support system who also lives so far away from you. it’s devastating, actually. because you know they love you and you know they’re there for you, but you can’t touch them, you can’t hug them, you can’t feel their presence in the same way. it’s really fucking hard to love someone so much from so far away and to want nothing more than to feel their arms around you or hear their voice right there in front of you or see the care in their eyes. god, it fucking sucks.

so, yes, i also understand ted’s need to be with henry.

and also i have my reservations because what parent thinks it’s just a chill thing to do to pin all your happiness on your child and expect them to fulfill you like that? what kind of messed up complexes can that create? i’d never want my parents to sacrifice their happiness for me. in fact, i resent my parents for sacrificing their happiness because they thought i needed a nuclear family model when really i just needed happy parents. that’s not to say that’s what everyone needs, it’s just how i personally relate to it.

in the end, i just wish i could’ve seen ted with an expression of genuine happiness on his face and not that “at peace” or whatever it was look in his eyes. i mean, you can be at peace that someone you love has died, but you certainly aren’t happy about it.

this was supposed to end after my point about boat man’s daughter but i got carried away because i love ted so much and i’m worried about him. 😭