#but doing it in even harder mode like 😭😭😭 i’m not going to do that!!!!!!

[lesbianlenas]

i have been trying to kill this boss in ds2 for 3 days i was going to finish the game in time for when i go back to school but now i don’t think i will 😔 i should prob be able to defeat him tomorrow maybe bc i got armor that’s supposed to make it easier but idk if i will still have enough time to finish the rest….i still have 4 chapters left in the walkthrough now so i think i am doomed to have the last bit hanging over me until my next break 😩 (i cant play dark souls during law school or else i will lose the will to live entirely fun games ONLY)

[slytherinshua]

MY FAVOURITE

genre. fluff. hurt/comfort. warnings. jaehyun had a stressful day and cries a bit. pairing. jaehyun x fem!reader. wc. 857. request. requested by 🐧 anon: thoughts about jaehyun returning home to y/n after a stressful day and switching from leader mode to baby mode a/n. jaehyun being a crybaby is just so :( like i love him i adore him as a cry baby myself 🥹 like idk i just cry over everything any slightly stressful situation will have the tears forming its not even funny >:( jaehyun looks so squishable and tiny when he cries like 😭😭😭 he needs to be protected from the world.

“No. I told you we needed another 2 days for choreography lessons. The boys will be stressed if they have to learn it all by tomorrow. There’s still so many details we need to review.” Your boyfriend had barely walked through the door before he got a call from his manager and started talking. He sounded extremely stressed— not something you were usually used to from soft clingy Jaehyun you had around most days.

Whether it was charismatic performances on stage or detailed plans and decision-making offstage, your boyfriend excelled in both areas. But it was tiring. He could switch on and off as quickly and easily as he needed to, which was extremely helpful in keeping his stress at a low. Relaxing and recharging was just as important as working, and he knew that he needed a balance to keep going.

Today had been long and heavy on the work non-stop part of his life that Jaehyun both loved and hated. It was all worth it— always— but some days he really wished he didn’t have to leave so early in the morning and come home so late at night. Some days he wished he could just cuddle with you until he actually wanted to get up and that he was able to get back to you in time for dinner. 

It was much past dinner time by now, already nearing midnight. Though your boyfriend’s voice sounded just like usual, professional, bright, and confident, you could tell with one glance at his face that he was so so tired. Eye bags and furrowed eyebrows framed his face, and he ran a stressed hand through his black hair, letting it stay and grip at the strands a bit too long for your liking.

The phone call ended quickly, thankfully. Jaehyun turned to you and you could just see him soften and relax completely. You closed the distance between you two so he didn’t have to, knowing your boyfriend and his love for hugs. He sunk into the hug immediately, holding you so so tightly. You frowned at how he was barely supporting his own body weight, so exhausted that he physically couldn’t do much other than cling to you.

You wanted to move to the couch in case he ended up toppling you both over with any extra weight he put in the hug. But you couldn’t do it without breaking the hug and Jaehyun looked like he would cry if that happened.

Not that he hadn’t started crying a little already. You could feel his body rack silently as he tugged at the back of your sweater, breathing in the scent of your shampoo with each uneven breath. You rubbed his back slowly up and down, soothingly waiting until he had calmed down enough to get ready for bed.

“It’s okay, let it all out, baby. I know it was an exhausting day. But you know I’m proud of you, right?” You murmured, pressing little kisses to his temple as you spoke. He started crying a little harder at your words, but you didn’t mind at all. You were glad you were someone he trusted enough to be completely vulnerable with. He didn’t hold back his tears, sobbing into your shoulder until the tears slowly stopped. You pulled back once you felt that he could hold himself up again with a clearer head.

“Not even the sky can be sunny all the time.” You smiled at his precious face, reaching out to swipe a thumb on his cheek to wipe away the tear stains. His nose was red and a little runny, and his eyes were a bit swollen. He looked so precious and small, and your heart broke just seeing him cry. 

After a few more hugs and a couple of kisses for motivation, you got him to shower and get into his pyjamas to cuddle up with you and finally sleep. Jaehyun loved to be the little spoon more than anything, all wrapped up close to you, feeling so comfortable and secure like nothing could ever touch him. You played with his hair and pressed continuous kisses to his face— you loved to spoil your baby with as much affection as he deserved, and he loved to receive it after a long day.

“It’s my favourite thing…” He mumbled quietly, snuggling closer into your chest.

“What is?” You traced a finger around his nose and cheekbone, pressing a kiss to the spot right after.

“This. And you. You’re my favourite.” He replied, smiling a little, about half asleep already.

“Really?” You smiled fondly at him as he nodded. “I’m honoured to be your favourite. You’re my favourite too.” 

“Really…?” He was so sleepy, and his words came out whispered, but you found it all the more endearing.

“Yes, really.”

With the last bit of energy Jaehyun had before sleep caught hold of him, he reached for your hand that was playing with his hair and brought it down to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to your fingers. Before you could respond or return the favour, he was already sound asleep in your hold.

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @cyberpunksunwoo,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,

@wccycc,, @seunghancore

[spirit-lanterns]

I feel like. The majority of the Androids won’t have compatible parts of you know where I mean. There’s like. Literally nothing down there. Like a Barbie. And maybe. There’s an Android that ends up with Engineer that can get into her online stuff (computer, relevant accounts, etc) to order relevant parts. Maybe someone who can hack(?) if they know how to because it’s their original job before ending up with Engineer. But I don’t think we need to even go that far because it probably would be relatively easy to get Engineers password to her stuff from even just peaking over her shoulder (because Engineer doesn’t care enough that they’re looking, she doesn’t know this particular Android is self-aware, or both).

Cause I feel like, as an android engineer, she would have places to get parts from in cases where she needs to replace damaged ones.

And maybe she tends to always have lots of new parts coming in/ordered, she might not even notice the stuff the Androids snuck in to her next order.

Maybe a couple of Androids tend to help her sort through new shipments and put stuff away (cause there’s a lot) so they’re able to make off with their sneaky order without Engineer knowing.

It would be funny if they could figure out how to install the parts themselves (I’m sure there are online guides/how-to’s SOMEWHERE they can follow cause there’s no way there isn’t) (and maybe Engineer has an Android who’s job is also within the engineering realm so that makes things easier) but… it would be funnier if it’s harder than it looks cause Engineer makes fixing up the Androids seem easy.

Maybe they struggle with figuring out which tool would work for each one of them. Maybe there’s a specific tool/equipment that they need to use that Engineer would DEFINITELY notice them using and it’s not like. A small wrench they can make off with for a couple of hours.

It would be funny if they ordered the obvious parts but didn’t order the things that would actually make those parts attach properly (screws, etc. I’m not an engineer. I’m just yapping over here) or something. It would be funny if what they did order wouldn’t even work anyways without serious modifications to their current model (which basically means there’s better pieces that’ll go to how they already are. They don’t actually have to make huge adjustments. They ordered a size small shirt when they’re extra large, if that makes sense).

When Engineer inevitably finds them with their pants down (literally, mind you), surrounded by just a mess of parts and tools she’s like “what are you doing”

A: “Um-“

E: “Those won’t work.”

A: “What do you mean they won’t-“

E: “Those parts don’t even install correctly for your specific models.”

A: “Eh?”

Engineer isn’t even questioning about the… specifics of the part functions (right now, anyways. Once she’s out of ‘Engineer mode’, her brain will catch up to what she’s seen) but more of the installation.

Cue Engineer ordering the actually right parts and installing them herself. Face straight while doing it cause she’s in engineer mode and Not Thinking About It.

This is 100% a “and this is why we leave the installation and maintenance work to me” situation. It’s kinda like androids: no thoughts, head empty, engineer: the smart one (until the Androids get their hands on her. then it reverses).

Don’t bother figuring out who’s the girlfailure in this AU, Angey. Cause it’s all of them.

WOWIE. This is a very detailed and long ask, I’m pretty impressed :0

Anywho, it’s hilarious that the Android women want to fuck the Engineer so bad, they order additional “parts” (mechanical penises and vaginas) off the Engineer’s card and try to assemble it themself to surprise her. 😭😭

Unfortunately for many of them however, many of them lack the expertise in Android engineering, as they have no clue how to attach said parts to themselves without complicating things further. The only Android I can think of that would be pretty good at assembling their own parts, would be Serval. So now I’m imagining Android! Serval trying to teach and direct all the Android women on how to attach their new genitals, so they can surprise the Engineer when she gets home.

Well, things don’t go as planned because once the Engineer comes home, she just sees the Android HSR women sitting on the floor and various counter tops with their pants off, different mechanical parts scattered across the room with only Serval having successfully implemented her mechanical genitals on her own. The Engineer then proceeds to attach each and every woman’s parts correctly, and walk them through on how to do it if they wish to swap out in the future for something else.

She’s not even embarrassed because she’s entered “work mode” while attaching everyone’s parts, so the gravity of the situation doesn’t hit her until she gets in bed that night. And that’s when she realizes; “Oh my god. My Androids are planning to fuck me.”

I applaud the Engineer’s dedication to her craft, though 😅

[desertfangs]

Since you write a lot do you have tips for people who want to write more?

Hi, anon! I can sure try and tell you some of what works for me!

Ignore advice that you don’t find helpful (that includes these tips!)

Writing is a process, but your writing process is always going to be unique to you, so if something doesn’t work for you, trying to implement it is only going to make you miserable. Like some people will tell you to write every day, but sometimes the pressure of that is going to be too much. Basically anything that doesn’t work for you, chuck it in the bin. You don’t need it.

Put your word processor in full screen

I write in Scrivener, which has a “composition mode” but you can also just put your document on full screen to minimize distractions. That way it’s harder to flip over to check Discord or Tumblr or whatever. Of course, I still exit out of full screen every time I need to look something up in the thesaurus and then I end up spending 15 minutes screwing around on the internet so you know, it's not a perfect system.

Work on several things at once and don’t be afraid to step away if a story isn’t working

Granted, my writing method is like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, so I tend to start a lot of stuff that fizzles out after a few paragraphs (or a few thousand words 😭😭) and I know juggling multiple things does not work for everyone.

I personally usually need at least 2 current WIPs, so I can switch to the second when I get stuck on the first. This means even while I’m ruminating on one fic, I’m writing another. But I have friends who literally can’t write on more than one project at a time or their brains will explode, so again, it’s just about what works best for you.

[BRACKETS]

If you’re stuck on something like a detail or a fact you need to look up or a piece of dialogue (“How the fuck would Lestat respond to THAT?” is my constant refrain, my cats are tired of hearing it), just put something in brackets like [Lestat replies with something flirty or witty] or [Fact check if X] or whatever it is, and then you can move on and keep going and not lose your momentum.

Set a Timer

If you're struggling to make yourself focus and write, set a timer for 10, 15, 25 minutes (whatever increment of time works for you!) and write until it goes off. You can keep going after if you're on a roll, or your can stop for a while, but it will get you into the mindset of writing. And even if that's all you do that day, hey, you wrote for 10 minutes!

Kill your need for perfection and that critic in your brain

I am still working on this but it’s true! You can make your WIP more perfect in editing. The old adage that you can’t fix a blank page is correct. And honestly, a lot of times I will write something and think ‘ugh this is no good’ and then go back and read it weeks later and really dig it. Or I figure out what it needs to make it better. (Or sometimes it still sucks and we just pretend it never happened.) But no one else has to see your first drafts! So don’t stress about making the first draft super good or agonize too much over word choice. Just get words on the page and worry about making it better later.

I hope you find some of that helpful, Anon!

[exorcqism]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, lil bit of sex. what else could it possibly be?? stoner!choso. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 364

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; siiiiiiigh. okay imma make this quick cuz i got a request to do 😭 ANYWAY I HOPE YA ENJOYYYY. REBLOG TO SUPPORT MEEEE AND IF YOU WANT MORE :D

“are you sure this is okay?”

you and choso were at your place while your parents were asleep in the next room. it was hard to have choso around because you knew that your parents didn’t approve of him or his actions, scared that you’d end up getting corrupted. choso could care less.

he could crush them if he wanted to.

but he would never. he didn’t wanna make you sad or even make you hate him. the thought of losing you kept him up at night.

“it’ll be okay, just be quiet.” choso whispered to you as he took a drag from his blunt. you were riding him like your life depended on it. your velvety walls clenched around him while you had your hands pressed down onto his chest.

choso groaned quietly, putting his head back a bit against the pillow. a grey cloud crept from the male’s lips and slipped out of the window beside your bed. his free hand gripped onto your waist. you were almost positive that it would leave a mark.

his hips thrusted into yours, practically begging for more. his eyes went lazy because of the pleasure you were giving him and the effects of the THC in his weed was getting to him. you bite your lips trying to keep quiet but it was just getting harder and harder by the second.

you were about to slow down but choso slapped your ass lightly. “keep going, princess. don’t even worry about being too loud.”

this continued on until you could feel your legs getting weak and you were getting closer to your release. choso was on the edge of his release also. he put his arm onto your nightstand, letting his blunt slide down into the ashtray before he put that same arm around you, forcing your weight down onto his pelvis before he’d cream pie you. you weren’t expecting it at first but you were fine with it.

the thought of your parents finding you in your room half naked with your boyfriend and getting scolded for it didn’t even cross your mind. you were just happy that you got to spend time with choso.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

[caspersickfanfics]

I’ve been thinking about seasick Cyno again, and particularly how picky he would be with food leading up to the days before they left again? Like as established he’d be anxious as hell the day or two before leaving and that would make him feel sick to his stomach all ready (even tho he wouldn’t clock it as anxiety) but because he’s not feeling so well he’s dodging inazuma delicacies left and right. Maybe it’s around then that he finally confronts Tighnari worries he’s gotten a bug or something, or maybe it’s his lack of appetite that clues Tighnari in on how wound up Cyno is feeling. Maybe Kaveh encourages him in a very casual kaveh way to eat some rice and light soups since- he has to eat *something*. Eventually it comes down to Cynos logic being “I won’t feel sick on the boat if I don’t eat anything” which is just not how that works at all. I feel like it would be a great chance for some of Tighnari to be like ‘gentle lecture mode’ to help explain to cyno why he needs to make sure he’s well rested and has good nutrition in him etc etc…it may not change anything for cyno lol cuz anxiety…and motion sickness…is a bitch. But idk I think it’s funny to see Cyno picky cuz he definitely doesn’t seem the type at all. Like man’s knows the importance of eating well because the healthier he is the better he can do his job. Honeslty I’m wondering which would be harder on him, dealing with getting sick the first time or knowing he’s likely to get sick going back. Cuz on the one hand he probably had a normal sized meal before leaving and- well we’ve talked lots about how he handles the motion the first time. But on the way back…the dread??? The knowing he’s not at the top of his game cuz he already feels queasy from the fear?? Knowing he can’t protect his loved ones as well. Maybe it’s just different kinds of hell for him lol 😂. Poor baby. I love him so much 😭

HELLO it has taken me actual ages to respond to this ask I'm so sorry!! I like this idea so much. Completely out of character for Cyno, Kaveh's fretting over him to the point that even Alhaitham steps in to be like "this is very illogical behavior" which is true but also unintentionally obnoxious to everyone involved.

I could absolutely see Tighnari getting exasperated with Cyno at this point, too. He'd see right through him, know exactly what he's trying to do, but maybe wouldn't pick up on the anxiety bit right away because Cyno isn't typically one to get anxious about travel or even illness. And Cyno's probably dodgy about it, too, maybe he thinks it's silly to worry about such things, maybe he's actually convinced himself that he is being logical about this in some way, but it gets to a point where Tighnari is frustrated, because he's explained time and time again why going into a long boat trip on an empty stomach is bad news, and Cyno's just getting more and more anxious because they're supposed to understand each other, and if Tighnari's right (he always is), then he has to admit to himself that he has little to no control over any of this.

It all culminates in the kind of anxiety attack that could really just be nothing, if it didn't feel so bad. His heart is racing, his chest hurts, and Tighnari notices him trembling. Then he picks up on Cyno's unsteady, quick breaths, the sweat running down his temples, the way his eyes dart around like he's looking for some kind of escape route. He has Cyno sit down just as he starts becoming lightheaded, and has the thought at the same time as he says it aloud: "You're scared."

From there, the pieces click into place. Cyno isn't saying he's sick because he's looking for excuses; it's because he actually feels ill. All of Tighnari's logic isn't helping because it's not addressing the core issue. Tighnari doesn't know how to help, but it turns out that putting a name to the fear is a good place to start.

seasick!Cyno post 1

seasick!Cyno post 2

[ruminate88]

Emotional Wounds 7/20/24

I always looked at this “healing journey” as one big scar to heal and I was SO wrong 🥺 it’s not healing from one big thing… it’s the countless words and mistreatment towards me from more than one person I either “loved” or “trusted”. I didn’t understand how deep the wounds even were until I fell at Christmas. I’m a visual learner and I believe I had to fall to see that even when the physical outward appearance of the wounds were no longer evident, if you press on the top of my legs a certain way, it’s still somewhat tender and sore. you can feel the bumps over my skin 😢 I KNOW there is still pain even if no one else can see it.

The emotional wounds are no different. NO ONE can see the pain and sometimes I even think “oh it’s not that bad, you’re just being dramatic and you’re not letting go of what happened.” However, the littlest things can set me off. For example, went to see the movie “Twisters” yesterday and they played the movie trailer for, “This Ends With Us.” Staring the gorgeous “Blake lively” who plays a character that falls in love with an abusive person and the trailer says, “IS IT HARDER TO HOLD ON OR LET GO?” 😭😭😭😭 omg I just sat stunned at this movie trailer feeling soooooo sad and frustrated. My heart and brain felt trapped remembering the pain I felt over Andrew.

I was in such pain and confusion when Andrew would NOT break up with me despite cheating and denying it. Deflecting the blame back on me and acting like I’m crazy…. We were on the phone 3 hours going in circles. Andrew was promising me he didn’t deserve me and I was too good for him and that I deserve more BUT he won’t break up with me cuz he says he wants to make me “happy” and he was only just playing mind games but I was so confused as being gaslit, I was complete torn between “I love him so much” and “he’s hurting me so much” 💔💔😢😢😢

So part of me says “just get over it, stop being so dramatic and why would you love such a liar and a cheater???” But theeeeen, I know I invested my heart and emotions deep into Andrew and that doesn’t just go away. You don’t just unlove a person randomly or love them randomly but Andrew mirrored my love and wore a false face. Idk whooooo he is.

Not just Andrew but Cody too. I tell myself cody also wore a mask that I’ll never know the real him and he also lied and cheated like crazy. They can’t love me back or treat me right for me to accept it and MOVE ON to enjoy my life. (Feels so difficult)

I JUST FEEL I DONT KNOW ME TRULY. Now that I’m officially trying to trust my current relationship and get completely out of survival mode, idk what to do with myself. My current relationship unintentionally “triggers me” often and I get so frustrated and sad. I wanna crawl into a hole and hide from everyone.

I don’t feel I can have an open and honest conversation with my current relationship because he gets defensive himself and I don’t think he’ll be open to understand me and hear me. I would love to be wrong but I’m only protecting myself from more rocks being thrown at me. Don’t believe my new man is throwing rocks but so many has before…

Ultimately I want to forgive cody and Andrew. I want to let them go free and I never reach out to them and I refuse to Google because seeing him will only upset me. The other night I could have sworn Andrew’s car was parked next to me and my heart was racing and my hand shook. I couldn’t stop looking over at it to be sure 🥺😳 (obviously it wasn’t) I feel like people would tell me I’m crazy and over the top and that something is wrong with me for having any feelings for my exes even if it’s the feelings are mixed. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[strawberrystepmom]

Kendall!! 💖 I am here to thank you again for the lovely questions you sent me yesterday, answering them really brightened up my night and I just wanted you to know how much I appreciated them! 🥰 But I am also here to ask a few of my own in return~ 💕

Who fell first, you or Narumi? And who fell harder??

Which of you says I love you first? Does it happen in person after you meet or online?

What are some ways you show your love for one another without words?

~ @lovelucilfer

chelsea! thank u so much for asking and again for the super thoughtful responses to the ones I asked! imo half the fun of self shipping is lore development and the good stuff fkfjdkdkdkdkdk

- he will beat around the bush about this if asked but it was him and i know it was him because he told me. mentioned that the first time he ever heard me giggle on voice chat he lost his train of thought so badly he almost died in game. we weren’t even playing together, we were just talking and he said something so goofy about it being past my bedtime and i laughed so hard…. gotta be a giggler it gets em every time! but i fell harder because i was convinced i wouldn’t fall for him at all and it was just a fun little thing when it first started 🥴

- i say it! after the first time we meet in person (the infamous plane food gave me food poisoning week in japan!) i admit to him that i love him and he doesn’t really say it back he sort of just lets it sit and I assume he isn’t going to say it back at all and leave to go home later that day. he leaves me at the gate and watches me go and that’s when it really sets in for him because he’s heartbroken. i turn on airplane mode and fly home assuming i’m never gonna hear from him again and accept it but land and open discord to like a 3 minute voice note and he’s like i love you im sorry i didn’t say it to you but i love you please come back soon i can’t watch you go again and im like 🙂‍↕️

- im so all about the little things so there are lots! once we are living together i make sure he eats semi properly, i let him stay up late but he needs to be sitting comfortably and not huddled under his futon getting into arguments with australian 12 year olds in FPS games. also this is heinous but i do it for him - I create burner accounts to tweet about how cool he is so he always has something new to see when he searches his name. i started doing it after my first trip and just never stopped 😭

[greetings-inferiors]

hi :3

ive seen you mention studying japanese a few times, and as i recently got into it again, i was wondering what kind of resources you use? and how you go about it in general.

So I’m not the best source at the moment because I’ve been putting it off for half a year at this point (but surely I’ll start again soon) but here’s how my Japanese learning journey’s been:

First of all, I started with Duolingo. I know I know. But I didn’t do any of the actual main things. What I used it for was to learn hiragana and katakana, which it EXCELS at, because they’re just phonetic and have no meaning attached, unlike kanji which have WAYYYYY more nuance, and I found Duolingo did anything other than literally learning what each hiragana and katakana sounded like really poorly. I haven’t touched it for two years however, so idk how it’s changed. But it got me to a point where I can read any hiragana and katakana instantly, and can recall and even write the most common hiragana and some katakana. Obviously recollection is a lot harder, and I struggle to write uncommon characters from memory, but still, it did it really well.

When I actually started studying kanji, wanikani was the best thing. You learn radicals (the bird making up kanji), then wait a bit before reviewing them, then wait a bit longer before reviewing them again, then you unlock kanji made up of those radicals, then you review them, then you wait a bit longer then review them again, then you unlock vocabulary involving those kanji, then you wait a bit and review them, etc. then you level up and unlock new radicals. It’s a really really good system, and I got to level 13 out of 60 before going on hiatus for exams (and haven’t started again to the point where I’m starting exams again soon 😭). It is paid past level 3, either monthly, yearly, or lifetime (lifetime’s worth it believe me, especially since it should be on sale around now)

They’ve also (in the time I’ve been gone) added grammar, which is something I struggled with as I hadn’t invested money into bunpro, a similar site focusing on grammar (I tried it but didn’t like it as much as wanikani, still good but wanikani is genuinely a brilliant site)

I’m also going to be getting some manga in Japanese, which is a great way to learn as it’s not only fun (because it’s manga) and easy to learn (as it’s designed for younger Japanese speakers), it’s also just really cool. Like damn I’m reading in a foreign language???? You also get to organically learn words instead of something like wanikani where you’re learning them pretty academically. You get to see the words in context and if you don’t recognise/understand it, you can look up the meaning of the individual kanji and try and piece it together yourself!

Overall I’m really trying to get back into Japanese, it’s something I’m genuinely passionate about and really enjoy doing, it’s just… a very daunting prospect. A downside of wanikani I didn’t mention is that if you don’t do your reviews they pile UP. I currently have about 1000 reviews, because I was a dumb stupid idiot and forgot to turn on vacation mode. So I’d either have to get through 1000 reviews (at my peak of obsession I could do about 100-200 on a good day, in the summer holidays) or reset to an earlier level (which I’m probably going to do, as the latest levels I didn’t commit to memory as much as the earlier levels so it’d be nice to relearn them).

I wish you luck in trying to get back into Japanese,幸運！^_^

[celiastjamesoscar]

Same. I can go on and on and on about TLOU. And I have. To unwilling parties. Aka my brother. I would love to play Hogwarts legacy as each of the houses. I have 2 modes I’m either doing all the side stuff or I’m doing almost done of it. But if I do I’m not doing back to back play throughs.

Game of Thrones at 13? Dang. I didn’t even watch the show until I was 17. Still haven’t watched season 8. Need to watch house of the dragon. And the deciding factor for me watching to begin with was dragons. The books seem cool but they’re so intimidating. It’s not even cause they’re long. Adult books just have trouble holding my attention. And not confusing me.

People always ask for a manager after I give them an answer. It’s like they don’t believe me. Had a guy ask me if we had some treats in stock and I said if it wasn’t on the shelf it’s a no and then he asked if I could order them and I again I said no. And when he heard no he gave me this look the look like that he couldn’t believe I just told him no. The funnily enough after he left I walked over to the shelf and there they were the treats he was looking for. Now they were behind a different one but like dude clearly didn’t look hard all he had to do was slide a tiny bag to the side and there they were.

Those unwilling parties are about to get the best history lesson ever, so your brother better appreciate it! DID YOU SEE THAT A REMASTERED VERSION IS COMING OUT OF PART 2?!? IM SO EXCITED FOR IT! I played as the Slytherin house for Hogwarts Legacy and I really liked it. I feel like you would get burnt out on back to back play throughs, but that’s just me

Game of Thrones at 13 probably wasn’t the best idea, but it has changed my life. I love those books so much, but the ending to the show made me so mad. You aren’t missing much with season 8, sometimes I pretend it doesn’t exist. House of the Dragon is amazing, especially if you like the dragon aspect. It’s a bit slow in the beginning, but it eventually picks up. Oh yeah, the books are intimidating at first, but you eventually get used to the writing after awhile. Stephen King books are hard for me to read because they don’t hold my attention very well, so I get it

People who ask for the manager after getting a solid answer from an employee are so infuriating. Like you want to bother someone else because you don’t believe the person who’s working there? 😭 like make it make sense. That’s honestly on him for not being able to find the treats though, like he could have looked a little bit harder before asking

[strscrossed]

I think… Eren is so much attractive and so tempting too—not only Mikasa. I mean, they both are so sexy and really meant for each other.

but let’s focus on Eren now, okay?

One morning, about half hour after the dawn, Mikasa wakes up to feel sudden urge of all horny. Even if morning glory is for men, they say, but i think it applies to Mikasa too—especially when Eren lies right beside her, wear nothing (as he always do when slept with her) but only with boxer briefs.

At first, she only admires his honey-skinned body, with his delicious toned-abs. Her fingers caresses his skin slowly and gently, from his chest… to his abs… while enjoying his soft snore. Until finally her fingers went more south, she pulls back their shared blanket slowly, revealing his fantastic shaft, still in sleepy-mode.

She’s caressing and stroking that over the briefs, slowly and gently as if it is her fave toy, sometimes squeezing it with the same gentleness because she likes to play with it and that’s it, resulting Eren’s obvious sigh he still doesn't realize he’s making.

And when it’s growing a bit harder, still Eren doesn't aware because he’s still sleep (?), Mikasa suddenly feeling bold and suddenly opens his briefs to have a little… taste? His shaft is so handsome down there, she can’t help but going insane.

She gives some licks and begins to swallow, so delicious she thinks all the while feeling him growing more and more hard in every taste and finally reach the peak of his glory. Followed by the husky voice of Eren who finally awake then look at her, yet sounds confuse at first:

“W-what are you doing?? Mikas…. aaaaahhhh!!”

He lays his head back down to the pillow while his hand held Mikasa's head, squeezing her hair gently.

///

Oooo please continue this, i’m sleepy already i cant concentrate to write yet still feeling thirsty for eremika smut that i cant sleep 😭😭😭

😭i'd love to continue this but i've been struggling for days. i'll write some smut from scratch on request does that sound good?

[ohsomightypeaches]

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

😏 you don't say...

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

I SEE WHAT YOURE DOING SIR 🤭

Or does he?

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

LOL

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

🤨 hold up. I THOUGHT you SAID SWEETS 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 CARROT CAKE?! that's the first go to for SWEETS?!?!??!

Okay but if this is because it's hard for like chocolate to come by because it's apocalypse and you can just ✨️grow✨️ carrots 😔 now I'm sad. Reason 39474662 I will not make it in apocalypse

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

SON OF A BITCH OH HES GOOD. he's very good.

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

I love this description. It's adorable and so visual.

Where he is not.

For one day can we not be angsty Joel 😩 PLEASE RELAX FFS UNCLENCH YOUR JAW OLD MAN LET YOUR CREAKY HIPS REST* (*from survival mode)

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

OOF. in italics?! Was the italics necessary?! Why does it hit so much harder in italics

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

😭🖤 he's so dad.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

😭 BBS

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

Ah yes I forgot he was a feral cat man

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

LOL how very older sibling of you

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Hes old and tired 😔 leave my feral cat mans alone

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

Oh that hurt

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

😭 why do you want me to cry today

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

😭😭😭😭

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

😏😌🔥

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Joel do you even strategize this much in that short amount of time when a bloater is coming at you? Lol

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

😭💀 JOEL

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

LOL you scared bro?

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

💀💀💀 okay but you can't approach a feral cat just because it decided it's okay with one person

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 they'll back off too if YOU start crying I'm sure lol

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

Andrew is living like a king in apocalypse.

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

🤣🤣🤣🤣

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

Yeah fuck Andrew and his hot tub 🔥

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

YOU HAD A PERFECT IN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. YOUR BROKE ASS DOOR NEEDS FIXING WHAT DO YOU MEAN.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

LOL

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

She wants to adopt you obviously feral cat man

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

???????? You what now????

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

Oh no big. Just ✨️made✨️ cream cheese 😦 I literally just found out what the ingredients to cream cheese is. Who MAKES CREAM CHEESE

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Why do you know what walnut trees look like? IS IT BECAUSE ITS FORAGEABLE?!?!?! 😭

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

🤭

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

ARE YOU GOING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? HMMMMM?????? 👀👀👀👀

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

It's me I'm a puddle on the floor again

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

AS HE SHOULD

But he doesn’t.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

*high pitched scream only dogs can hear*

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

👀 tumny?!

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

😭😩🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 I too just want to squish and nibble. 😔

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

😤 won't lick the cream cheese frosting off and now THIS?!?!?? unacceptable. Rude. So rude. How dare.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

😤😤😤😤😤😤😤😤😤 of course it is.

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

‘Please,’ he interjects.

He's back in tired dad mode I love it

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

I can just hear the sass 🤣🤣🤣

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHHAA thats my girl 😌

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

😌🔥

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

Did you get the door fixed? No? Mind your own business Lucy 😤

Your Ellie was great puns and all. 10/10 no notes. 😌🔥

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

[m-vrks]

What do you do when the dissociation fades…? Even if you know it’s temporary. Nobody stops to realize they’re in survival mode - you don’t get the chance to. You’re too god damn busy SURVIVING…

Must we continue on this way? Who’s to say it’s worth it?

I had the most incredible time with my kiddo today. “Panda” (his favorite food spot) & a picnic at our old favorite spot, just me & my boy, like the good ol’ days… Listening to the same good ol’ songs… Seeing him smiling & laughing, & bringing up memories we’ve shared…

I felt it. I connected with it. I was THERE… & Now, there’s a lump in my throat, threatening to give it all away.

My heart aches to go back to 4yrs ago… A 3yo little boy, & a 24yo me.. Life was harder in so many ways, but god damn was it everything… We were SO good in so many other ways. He constantly says (today again) that he misses our dog, Cooper. He misses our cat, Cruz. He misses how things “used” to be. & I want to fucking bawl my eyes out, because ffs so do I. If he only knew how much I’d give up to go back… & Just how quickly I’d do it, too.

I have no doubt I’ll be getting a visit from Aunt “Flo” soon, so the emotions come flooding. They’re sad, but they’re happy ones too. They’re good ones this time… & Maybe that’s why I can’t handle it. I’m so used to the numbness that I found comfort in.

We walked up a massive hill right at sunset, & as much as I was gasping for air (battling a bad case of bronchitis rn), all I could see was him & his little “mohawk” from his most recent haircut. Him & his big almond shaped eyes. Him & his tall socks with flames on them, like such a cool kid. He looks up & goes, “I miss them mom, but I’m glad I still have you”… 🥺😭

Having to drop him off at his dad’s for the night afterwards, really wrecked me. All the extra hugs & squeezes, & the “I love you’s”…

I miss it all too, buddy… Trust me.

[merlucide]

PREGNANCY HC’S W/ BLLK BOYS

notes: eeeeeeee (og ask)

characters: Barou, Sendou, Rin, Kaiser

warnings: cursing, fem reader, reader feels insecure about her body a bit

bllk mlist PT1 PT2

BAROU SHOEI

goes into daddy bear mode

Like he is 10x more protective about you and who is around you

Is so overwhelmed and happy that you are giving him a child <33

When you told him he started to tear up— he cant express how happy he is

Btw you aren’t allowed to do ANYTHING

Like hah babes sorry you’ve lost your privilege to do anything besides sit still and look pretty (and form a baby but yk) 🤭

The nursery is UP a few days after you told him you were pregnant

He is imagining his life with his new son or daughter, what they will do together, the things he’ll teach them—

Apart of him is scared he won’t do it right, like he will be a bad dad

So like he is trying to prove to you in a way- that like he will be a good father?? 🧍‍♀️

You were like going to get some water and all of a sudden you feel a kick- you gasped and look at Shouei, who was wide eyed asking a small ‘was that…’ 

You nodded and he rushes over, his hands hovering over your belly

The baby kicks again and you took Shouei’s hands and place them on you.

The baby kicked again and his faces slowly lights up, he’s shaking his head and smiling

SENDOU SHUTO

lmao he is a MESS

sendou is so excited!! Like ‘Omg I’m gonna be a dad!!” 🤩and “Omg. I’m gonna be a dad.” 😟

Literally started SOBBING when you told him you were pregnant— like SOBBING

So caring during your pregnancy (he’s always caring but yk-)

So excited to tell everyone!! He wants to let everyone know that he’s gonna be a daddy!! And you’re gonna be a momma!!

Rubs your feet when ever they are hurting, puts all kind of creams on the dogs in hope that it will make it hurt less <33

Notices you’re starting to feel a bit insecure about the weight gain and how your face and body is getting bigger.

He Instantly tells you that no matter the shape or size you will always be beautiful in his eyes— and being the mother of his future child makes you even more beautiful.

Whenever the pregnancy hormones kick in and the world might as well be ending he just holds you (and cries with you)

He knows how draining it is and appreciates how strong you are

.

Oh and babe, when he feels the baby kick for the first time- he loses it🙈

ITOSHI RIN

welp 🫠

Good luck, babe

he is noooot a natural in this area…….

like ….. he is so awkward and anxious..

..

— but Rin is absolutely overjoyed that you are pregnant!! With his child!!

He just has no idea what to do or where to start— Should he tell his parents? Should you guys get a new house? Should he research how to be a good dad? Should he hire a nanny?Should—

He doesn’t want to put stress on you or the baby, so he tries to take care of all of the other things

He is trying!!!!

Rlly scared that he won’t be a good dad and will fuck up the kid 💀

Actually does buy some “Books for new parents” and when you found out you teased the shit out of him LMAOOO

He wants to be a good dad and make you and the little one proud of him!

….

oh Rin

Rin, Rin, Rin

He once absentmindedly made a comment about how your belly is getting bigger (which like- cus yk- ur preggo) 

and you were absolutely destroyed

And which Rin instantly realized what he had just said and freezes

You were now sobbing and sniffling about how you’re just a big whale and yadda yadda

He feels SO BAD 😭

He didn’t mean like that!! He was just noting that the baby was getting closer to coming!! 

and Rin is just awful with words and comforting so he is just like kinda standing there not sure if he should touch you 😭💀 

ends up grabbing your hands and telling you that you misunderstood his words which you took as him blame-shifting you, which made you cry even harder

Well it was a rather hard 30 minutes for Rin

MICHEAL KAISER

oh

..

OH

That is pretty much kaisers reaction when you told him you were pregnant

He thought you were joking at first— haha no.

His reaction was not exactly what you expected, but you weren’t really sure what to expect

After he recovered from the initial shock, he started laughing so hard 😭

He then hugged you and spun you around so tightly— while laughing like a madman

He was so happy!?— he was going to be a dad!?

.

He was going to be a dad….!

Shit

Yeaaaaaaa…. That hit Kaiser pretty hard, he was absolutely terrified of turning into his father

You reassured him that that will never happen, that he is not that kind of person. 

He still was anxious and scared, but felt slightly better

He really was proud that you both were going to be parents— he thinks about telling everyone but decides against it out of fear that something would happen to you and the baby. Only Ness knows

—Which ness was freakin ecstatic when he was told- can’t wait to meet the baby and worship the ground it walks on <33

He tries his best to be soft and gentle towards you, but often fails— resulting in you sobbing your poor little heart out

Pregnancy hormones were a bitch

And kaiser felt awful because he is awful at communicating and comforting 😭😭

He just takes your hands and crouches down and whispers soft apologies.

He sets his pride aside, only for you

Also is absolutely disgusted by your pregnancy cravings

..like you want Oreos….and mayonnaise..??!

He tries not to make faces but they slip out every now and then 🤷‍♀️

And you’ll cry because you think he’s judging you and the cycle repeats 🫠

Now, when the baby kicks for the first time..

You were sitting on the chair, Kaiser on the floor feeling your round belly, trying to see if he could feel anything

and then right on que, the baby kicks

Kaisers eyes look as if they’d shoot out of his head

His mouth slightly opening and closing as he stares at your belly

The baby kicks again, and a tear slips through Kaiser’s pretty eyes

You had only seen Kaiser cry twice, the first when he was at a low, overwhelmed and lost. The second at your wedding, which was during the bride and grooms first dance.

And now a third <3

bllk mlist

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark @soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @rinitoshisgirl @someprettyname @narumelo

nansjdndsnsjkaek I might make a pt2 🤷‍♀️ I wanted to add more but then looked at how much I yapped 😭💀

made August 20th 2024

[lizzie-is-here]

Helloo here again to request another K.B fanfic where Kate purposely tries to get in an argument with Y/n so they would break up because she thought the king pin situation was getting a little too dangerous and she didnt want Y/n to be involved so she said harsh things to her till Y/n got really hurt and broke up with her but then Y/n still wanted to be friends with Kate so she kept bugging Kate till Kate stops ignoring Y/n again and they hang out with each other again and end up getting back together and Kate admits that she didnt mean everything and that it was all just to protect Y/n bcs she couldnt afford losing her and she also says she still really loves and cares for Y/n and always has bcs Kate realized nothing can or will separate her from Y/n?😊💜

Ooo can u pls make it really angsty to and fluffy in the end? Tysm!💜

(Hope it's not to much😅)

Fem R to btw Tyyy!

Lots of love!💜

🤍request!🤍

character: kate bishop x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, angst, arguing, kate being an ass with good intentions

a/n: ok i changed it around a little bit, but i tried my best on the arguing 😭 it hurt to write y’all but it was emotionally satisfying in a weird way too. anyway hope u enjoy!

“You know, it’s, uh… It comes with a price.”

“What does?”

“This life you wanna live. To really help people. I mean, try to help people, anyway. Comes with a lot of sacrifices. And some things you’ll lose… forever.”

When Kate texted you saying that she needed to talk, you weren’t sure what to think. And now, standing out in the freezing cold outside of your shared apartment, you still aren’t.

“What do you mean, ‘break up’?” you ask, watching Kate’s face fall. “We’ve been together for two years, I thought it was going really well. Did I do something wrong-“

She shakes her head immediately, instinctively dropping into Protective Girlfriend™️ mode.

“No, no, no, no, no no,” she says. You narrow your eyes.

“Then what’s going on? Why aren’t you being honest with me?” You take her hand. “I want to help you. I promise, whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

Ouch. Right in the heart. Kate sighs, steeling her resolve as she realizes this is gonna be a lot harder than she anticipated.

“Why does it matter?” she demands, raising her voice. “Every time I look at you, my stomach just fucking drops. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand you. Whatever we had, it’s gone now.”

“Not everything can be solved by just ‘talking it out’, and I know that that’s hard for you to understand, but it’s true. I gave up on us months ago.” She forces each word out, hoping that you’ll break up with her quickly and she won’t have to spew more lies.

But instead of backing down, you fire back. “You’re still lying! Kate, what is going on?”

You know her too well. All of the late nights and early mornings, all of the movie nights and drives to nowhere built up. And now you know each other better than yourselves.

She knows what she needs to do, no matter how much it’s going to hurt.

“I’m not sure how much more obvious I can be, (Y/N), the signs are everywhere. I don’t love you anymore!”

You don’t reel back like they do in movies. You don’t flinch. You go deadly still, meeting the gaze of the woman you love, and you take a shaky breath.

“I hope whatever you’re doing all this-“ You gesture around. “-for is worth your efforts. Because I clearly wasn’t.” Your eyes flit over her form. “Goodbye, Kate.”

You hurry inside before the tears fall, leaving her alone in the cold. She nods in satisfaction, even if she’s emotionally wrecked now. She won. She came here to do one thing, and she accomplished that.

As Kate walks away, though, it still feels like she lost.

———————————————————————

After that night, you were what one would call a hot mess.

You were already on break from college, but you were moping around even more than usual over the past few days. To lift your spirits, you had tried nearly anything that took your mind away from your girlfriend.

So now, your apartment smelled like cookies (several plates of which were stashed away), there were several bags from your retail therapy trip, and the TV had only displayed Hallmark Christmas movies for the past 48 hours. Plus, all of Kate’s things had been shoved into a closet.

But every time you put a new baked good into the oven or ordered another cart of clothes, you thought about Kate. You couldn’t help it.

In all fairness, when you spend that much time around someone and abruptly stop seeing them, you’re bound to miss them. Even if they were a bit of an asshat to you. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

On one hand, Kate had been very forthcoming about what she thought of you. And it wasn’t nice. You winced every time you remembered her harsh words.

On the other hand, something was clearly going on. And even if that didn’t give her behavior a pass, it provided an explanation.

Plus, if something serious was going down, you wanted to help her, even just as a friend.

It’s four days later, on Christmas morning, when you finally cave.

‘Hey, it’s me’ you type before quickly deleting it.

“Of course it’s you, dipshit,” you mumble.

‘Hey, I know things kind of went to shit the other day but if you wanna hang out and talk sometime I’d be totally up for that :)’

You analyze the message. “Is that too passive? Maybe.” After a few minutes of back-and-forth, you shake your head decisively. “No, it’s fine, I’m just gonna send it.”

Taking a few breaths to hype yourself up, you hit send and immediately fling your phone away.

“Oh, god, that’s too cringey, why did I send that, she’s gonna think I’m some desperate loser. I bet she’s telling me to fuck off right now-“

Grabbing your phone, you pause. No response. But she read it.

“So we’re playing that game,” you chuckle. “Alright, Bishop. Let’s go.”

———————————————————————

At the Barton’s house, Kate is miserable. She already feels bad enough for deliberately arguing with you and saying all that shit, and now you’re reaching out.

Well, more like sending messages every two minutes that get increasingly more passive-aggressively polite.

Kate’s phone displays 174 messages from your contact. A ding.

175.

She groans from the bottom of her soul, flopping onto the couch as Lucky licks her hand.

Clint, being the perceptive Avenger/assassin he is, notices her very obvious wallowing.

“What’s wrong, kid?” he asks, not sure if he wants to hear the answer.

She pushes herself up. “Wait, you actually want to know?”

“Eh, not really.”

Laura gently elbows him as she grabs the shreds of wrapping paper from the floor to throw in the trash. “Clint…”

“Fine. Yes.”

“I started an argument with my girlfriend so she would break up with me and now she’s being too nice and asking to hang out this week and I don’t know what to do,” Kate sobs, burying her head into a throw pillow.

Clint holds up a hand. “Okay, slow down. Let’s start at the beginning. Why did you start a fight with her?”

Kate shrugs. “You said that this life came with sacrifices,” she reasons.

“And that correlates… How?”

“So I gave up something important so she wouldn’t get hurt.”

Clint thinks he might have an aneurysm right then and there. “Kate. Kate. What part of ‘This life comes with sacrifices’ equals ‘break up with your girlfriend’?”

She opens and closes her mouth a few times. “Well, it just sounded like you were talking about sacrificing a person… or something.”

“I have a wife and three kids! I meant your private life and your free time!” he exclaims.

Kate bolts up faster than Nathaniel Pietro Barton’s second namesake and grabs her phone.

“Oh my god, I have to apologize. I need flowers, and lights, and jewelry, and-“

“Calm down, kid,” Clint says. “First things first, you need a quick flight back home. I’ll call in a favor from Tony, I’m sure he can get you a quick flight.”

Ten minutes later, Kate’s packed up and ready to go, and a private jet is getting ready at the airport. After hugging the Barton family goodbye and wishing them a Merry Christmas, her and Clint scramble into the car and drive off.

They make it to the airport in record time, skipping security with a single flash of Clint’s ID.

“Alright, you better not screw this up,” he says.

She nods, bouncing on her heels. “Yeah. Yeah, I won’t. I’ve got this.” Jumping at the archer, she pulls him into a hug. “Okay, thanks so much gotta go, bye!”

———————————————————————

You gave up after three hours of messages, resorting to moping about. Some Christmas this was.

It’s 7:30 and pitch black outside when you hear a knock on your door. You pause before opening it, until you hear a familiar voice.

“Please open this! I don’t wanna drop your gifts- I mean my stuff!”

“Kate?” You fling open the door.

Your girlfriend (Ex? Whatever, technicalities) is carrying a bouquet of lily of the valleys and sprigs of holly, a jewelry box, and a disturbingly large bag of holiday foods.

“I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry, and I want to explain. You don’t have to take me back, just, please, hear me out?”

You don’t have the heart to turn her away, so you nod, stepping aside as she shuffles in.

She drops everything on the counter, sinking into the couch. You sit, keeping a bit of distance.

“You said you wanted to explain,” you begin, nodding to her. “So?”

Despite the jet lag, Kate rushes into the story.

“So, this is going to sound crazy, but I’ve spent the last six days with Clint fucking Barton- I know, insane.”

Your eyebrows raise. Her literal hero? Damn, so that’s what was going on with that giant arrow and the rumors of a second Hawkeye.

“And we were dealing with some pretty dangerous people. Mob bosses, mercs, Russian assassins, you know.”

You didn’t know.

“And… I thought if they figured out about our relationship, you’d be in danger. And I couldn’t let you get hurt from my mess.”

“I’m sorry I went about it the way I did. You were right, I should’ve just talked to you about it. I was just so… scared.”

You soften. Yes, she made a mistake. A big-ass mistake. But she made it from a place of worry and love. Smiling, you take her hand.

“I forgive you. I know you must’ve been worried, and everything must have been going so fast…” She begins to sniffle and you pull her into a hug. “You had good intentions, Kate. It’s alright now.”

She buries her face in your hair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of the shit I said, I was just-“ Unable to manage more words, she just shakes her head.

You softly shh her, nodding in understanding.

“Does this mean I can stay here for a while?” she asks, voice shaking. “‘Cause I had to arrest my mom and I really don’t want to live with my stepdad after she framed him for murder and I tried to chop off his face.”

“Kate, baby,” you chuckle. “You’ve had a tough few days, huh?” She only groans. “Of course you can stay. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I kicked you out of our apartment?”

She jumps from your arms before you can react, wide-eyes and suddenly 12x more hyper.

“You’re taking me back?”

You nod, smiling at her antics. Without a pause, Kate scoops you up, spinning around in circles as you squeal. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ll never pull that shit again, (Y/N), I promise.”

“I know, I know,” you laugh as she slows, still holding you up. “I am making you do the dishes for two months, though.”

She leans in to kiss you. When you part, she shrugs. “I’ll gladly do all the dishes if it means you’re still my girlfriend.”

[comatosebunny09]

@world-of-hearts 😭😭😭 The ideas!!! Can you imagine…

Heading to your door when someone rings the doorbell, and you’re dressed in something sultry because you were expecting Sylus to stop by later, anyway.

But when you open the door, it’s MC, and she falls into your arms bawling. You don’t know what to do when she’s babbling like that, smushing her cheek against your chest. She draws herself away, holding you by the arms. There’s a pout on her face, tears and snot comically streaming down.

“I’m sorry,” she blubbers around a sniffle, giving you a once over. “Was I interrupting something?”

You straighten, subconsciously tightening your robe around your waist to hide your state of dress. “Not at all, hun. Just getting ready for a show.” You’re surprised at how easy it is to lie. “What’s wrong?” You pull her closer, fondly smoothing back her hair and transitioning into maternal mode.

Her lip wobbles, and she falls against you again, sobbing harder. “I dunno what to do!”

You’re stricken by something cold. Rooted to the floor. Does she know? Did he finally tell her about your little…trysts?

You lead her into your home by the hand. Guide her to the sofa, a lump in your throat whilst you watch her drivel. A bead of sweat forms on your temple as you offer her a tissue, and she blows into it like a trumpet.

“I can’t understand you when you’re crying like that, sweetheart,” you say, a little exasperated. Hold your hands up as if to comfort, but you only provoke another onslaught of wailing.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles, calming down. “I’m just baffled. About Sylus, about everything. I don’t know where his head is. What his intentions are.” She hugs herself, rubbing her arms to self-soothe.

You blanch and sputter. Swallow thick. Shit. Here it comes.

“What do you mean, hun?” You try to mask the nervous waver of your voice.

“Don’t know. I just…I don’t know. Sylus. He seems distant. Like he’s pulling away from me. Don’t know if I pissed him off or something.” She suddenly turns to you with the biggest puppy eyes, and you shrink back with a goofy look. “You know him better than I do. You think I set him off? Pushed him away?”

You’re the wrong person to ask about this, especially considering you betrayed her trust. Sullied her relationship because you’re greedy and selfish. “Never. The man’s obsessed with you.”

Something tugs in your chest. There’s a warming sensation washing over your body. Suddenly, you feel your eyes water as a melancholy smile rounds your lips. You tamp down the feeling with a chuckle. “No way he’d leave someone like you alone. Dude went through hell to see you. Maybe he’s been busy, being all nefarious and whatnot.”

She seems to perk up a little. Laughs between her sobs, swiping at her tears with a smile of her own. “I’m sorry. I know I must look and sound really stupid. But that’s not the only reason why I’m so upset.”

“Oh?” you singsong with a raised brow.

She sits up now. Fidgets with her fingers, avoiding your gaze at all costs. “Yeah. There’s this…guy. An old friend. Someone I’ve known since I was a kid. Who also happens to be my doctor.”

Oh. Oh, this. Your curiosity is thoroughly piqued now. Forgive you for feeling a little hopeful at the sudden turn of events.

“Do I need to get the wine for this?”

The other woman solemnly nods, and you jet from the couch to your liquor cabinet. Slide back onto the sofa beside her with a bottle of Château Lafite and two wine glasses gleaming between your fingers.

“Spill it,” you quietly demand, a devious twinkle to your eye.

Later that evening, Sylus slides into your flat to see the pair of you cuddled up on your sectional and fast asleep. His only indication of the type of evening you had is three empty bottles of Château Lafite settled on your coffee table.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. What is he going to do with you two?

@world-of-hearts Post-coitus Sylus texts you throughout his days, telling you how much he misses you and wants to see you while he’s in business meetings. And, like, he’s torn because he has to choose between texting you and the MC. One gives him butterflies while the other makes his chest ache. 😭😭😭