#but lately it's also been off like. in the middle of an episode after the door. or after the ending credits before the epilogue.

[galacticlamps]

no idea why but for some reason i feel like the next episode of dr who's gonna be one i'll especially want to be caught up for? again no clue why i feel that way since i'm currently behind - it's not even like i've seen the teaser for it yet or anything - but fwiw the last time i had that feeling was before fugitive of the judoon, and love or hate that episode i'd say i was right about needing to experience it in real time. i've never been one to care about spoilers much but i do very clearly remember making a point of staying off dr who related internet spaces until i got home from work the day that one dropped (and having any feelings that remind me of pre-pandemic 2020 is already a trip in itself wow) & i kinda think im about to wind up doing the same this weekend (since i already know im not gonna be able to watch it right away)

[sommerbueckers]

HI BABY OKAY SO I HAVE A LITTLE ONE SHOT IDEA⁉️⁉️

so basically reader and paige know each other but aren’t exactly close just flirted a few times wtv wtv. so reader goes to a game and she’s wearing the other teams jersey😋😋 after the game paige sees her, they hang out have a few drinks and hookup.. and paige is like “take this shit off” then pulls the other teams jersey off reader

ALSO CAN I BE 🤍 ANON??

yes ofc you can !!

𝐚/𝐧: okay i literally love this idea , and congrats on being my first anon love !

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

➪ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

THREE DAYS AGO you had been sitting quietly in your apartment, the tv displaying an episode of Gilmore Girls that you, if prompted, could recite word for word. Leftover Chinese food sat cold upon the coffee table, your roommate occasionally returning to her forgotten bowl of beef broccoli.

“What’re you doing this weekend?” her voice abruptly cut through the silence, drowning out the show which could hardly be heard to begin with.

You leaned your elbow against the arm of the couch, shrugging your shoulders. “Probably nothing.”

“Per usual,” she snorted, amused. After reaching to pause the tv, she pulled her legs up under her and twisted around to face you. Her face held a look of mischief and you typically tried to steer away from any kind of conversation with her at this point, but there was nowhere for you to go. “Do you wanna take a little road trip?” she raised her eyebrows, hopefully.

“A road trip?” you repeated, your tone laced with confusion. “It’s the middle of February and you wanna take a road trip?”

Excitedly nodding her head, she scooted closer to you. “You know how i’ve been talking to Noa a lot lately?” She hadn’t even given you a chance to respond before she continued on. “Well her school plays UConn on Friday night and she said she could get me courtside tickets! How sick is that?!”

Courtside tickets to any game would be exciting, but courtside tickets to see UConn Paige play was an entirely different level of excitement.

You had met the basketball star at a penthouse party last summer. It was being hosted by some trust fund NYU student whose parents were out of town. It was said to be ‘select invite only,’ the hierarchy groups of the social food chain would be there along with whoever else they wanted to bring. You originally weren’t supposed to go, but after finding out your name was on the invite list, you and a few friends couldn’t think of any better way to spend the night.

Paige had been wearing a white crop top and a pair of jorts, and she looked far too good not to entertain for the night. All night you two had mingled and flirted, dancing together and taking shot after shot. Nothing came out of it other than another follower on Instagram, but you were just happy to have made the night a good one.

“Yeah, that’s pretty cool,” you admitted quietly. You leaned forward to grab the box of shrimp fried rice, aimlessly picking at it with your fork in an attempt to hide your clear interest in the conversation.

“Pretty cool?” your roommate gaped, “it’s fucking awesome! I finally get to meet her and you get to see Paige play in person.” She was practically bouncing off the walls at this point, her cheeks red from how hard she was smiling. She was biting her lip, no doubt to keep from squealing.

You sucked your teeth unconvincingly, your mind scattered as it tried to provide you with a quick response. “Why would I wanna see Paige?” you frowned, avoiding her eyes.

“Aren’t you guys friends?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well you follow each other on Insta, and you’re always watching her games,” she shrugged innocently, thankfully not picking up on the way your eyes refused to meet hers or the blush that had unknowingly crept onto your face.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “well we aren’t.”

Unfortunately, it was the truth. You and Paige hadn't interacted with each other since the party and you chalked the night up to the two of you just having some drunken fun.

"Oh, so, do you wanna come down or no?"

You weighed your options, though the answer was clear. Stay in your apartment with nothing to do other than binge watch shows by yourself or join your roommate on a trip down to good ol' Storrs, Connecticut. You sighed and leaned back against the couch, crossing your arms.

"When do we leave?"

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

That was how you ended up sitting courtside at a UConn versus Creighton game, a white and blue jersey over your sweatshirt, the number seven displayed on the front. Your roommate had insisted that you both wear Noa’s jersey, that way she felt ‘double the support.’ You didn’t mind despite the fact that you couldn’t name a single player on the team.

The game ended with UConn sweeping Creighton, you had tuned out sometime during the third quarter after accepting the fact that the blue jays wouldn’t be able to come back. You hadn’t even noticed the game was over until the blonde beside you stood up with a groan, throwing her hands in the air.

“That’s it? It’s over just like that?” she turned to you with wide eyes.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Guess so.”

She was beyond upset, you would’ve thought she had been the one on the court. She went on a tangent after the teams disappeared into the locker room, expressing her opinion on why the game should be longer and what Creighton should’ve done. She had no idea what she was talking about, and you knew that, but still listened nonetheless.

“Are we getting something to eat?” you asked when you were sure she was done talking.

“Yeah,” she sighed out, “not sure what Noa wants to do but we can figure it out when she gets out here.”

“Okay, ‘m gonna use the bathroom real quick.” You stood from your seat, brushing off your jersey and heading toward the bathrooms.

Never before had you been to Gampel Pavilion, and curiosity got the best of you as you disregarded the large ‘Restrooms’ sign for a more enticing place. You ambled down one of the corridors, looking at all the pictures and awards that were up on the walls. Pictures of alumni in all the different uniforms through the decades, different championship trophies and plaques.

Your eyes stopped on one picture in particular; it was from the 80s and the men had bright smiles on their faces as they held up a large trophy. Their shorts were incredibly short, and you laughed to yourself as you wondered how they’d ever played in them. Before you could bring your attention away on your own accord, a familiar voice did it for you.

“You’re not supposed to be back here.”

There stood Paige Bueckers in all her six foot glory, her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at you. For having just played a game, she looked amazing. Her hair was still pulled up in its usual braid and ponytail but it was now partially covered with a gray beanie, she had put on a jacket and sweats over her uniform and looked about ready to slip out without being seen. That’s probably what she was doing.

“Oh sorry, I—I didn’t know,” you shook your head, embarrassed.

“Nah it’s cool, usually it doesn’t matter but they’re tryna clear the place out now,” she explained with a shrug, a keychain jingling from the movement of her bag on her back.

You nodded your head, silently walking past her to make your way back to the gym.

“Wait,” she called out.

You whipped your head around quicker than you should’ve, your face holding a look of innocence as you waited, no, hoped for her to say what you thought she was going to say.

“Don’t I know you?”

‘Yeah, we met last summer,’ was what you would’ve said had you been able to think straight. Instead, you stared at her dumbly until she finally spoke again.

“I think I do, we met at that one kid’s party last year,” she said. Was she trying to remind you? Like anyone would forget meeting Paige Bueckers at a party.

“Yeah, yeah I remember,” you nodded. You rubbed your forehead with a breathless laugh, thinking of what to say next. “That night was pretty blurry to be honest…”

That’s all you could come up with?

It wasn't even the truth either. You remembered everything from that night; every look, every touch.

“No yeah I get what you mean,” she laughed, “don’t even remember how I got home.”

You nodded your head to feign agreement because you knew exactly how you had gotten home.

“Creighton fan, huh?” Paige asked, gesturing to your jersey.

You glanced down, pulling the material away so you could examine it yourself. “No uh, my friend’s girlfriend or — whatever is on the team and we just came down to support her.”

“Ah, so I take it you’re not a UConn fan either?”

You laughed, “I’ve watched a couple games.”

Another lie -- you've watched every game.

“I’ll take it,” Paige smiled. “It was good seeing you again,” she said, beginning to back up. Had you not been so captured by the shade of blue that her eyes held, you would’ve missed the way they'd scanned your body. Running up and down your legs, gently biting her lip. Her eyes once again met yours and she flashed you that signature smirk before she turned around and headed out.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

"This place is fucking packed," Noa commented, surveying the bar with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, i'm gonna go see if I can get us a table."

Your roommate left your side and approached the hostess podium, you and Noa now being alone near the door. She awkwardly rocked back and forth on her feet, hands resting comfortably in her pockets. "Y'all came down here together?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah, got here a little bit before the game actually," you smiled.

Noa hummed, "Hope you aren't driving back tomorrow," she said with a small laugh.

"What do you mean?"

"The couch at the apartment isn't the most comfortable," she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, "so I was just saying you'd probably be better off making blondie drive."

As if on cue, said blondie motioned for the two of you to follow her. "The wait was like forty-five minutes but the bar has the full menu," she said and gestured to three open seats right beside each other. You all gladly took them, sighing as you finally put your feet to rest.

The bartender came around and took your orders and the three of you finally settled in. Conversation came easy, you and Noa bonded over all things basketball. You discussed the calls that were made during the game, how a lot of them were made in favor of UConn because it was their home gym and all. While it hadn't been a complete lie, UConn would've won even without those calls.

You sipped casually on your martini, letting your two friends fall into their own conversation while you busied yourself elsewhere. Your gaze moved from table to table, scouting out someone who could turn your night around from the eventful one it had been. Once again, as though the man above had been listening solely to you, Paige and her teammates waltzed right in.

She had changed out of her basketball uniform, now dressed in a pair of cargos with a long sleeve and a vest.

Instinctively, you straightened up in your chair. They'd seated themselves on the other end of the bar, Paige sitting perfectly in your line of view. You felt like a creep the way you were watching her, but you couldn't help it. There had been a point in time where Paige had been focused on you. Her hands roaming your body as you danced together, her eyes locked on yours only, determined to make you laugh. You smiled unconsciously at the memory of that night, wishing over and over that you could relive it.

When you looked up again Paige was gone, missing from the rest of her group.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd think you were following me," her voice came from close behind you, and you found her standing there with an untouched drink in her hand.

"Well if I remember correctly, I was here first," you smiled, tilting your head. You were hoping you looked cute doing it and not dopey like you had pictured yourself. "So who's really doing the following?"

Paige chuckled, "You got me there." She moved to take the seat beside you, glancing around for a sign that someone was already sitting there. When she didn't find one, she proceeded to get comfortable. You watched contently, sipping your drink with crossed legs and waiting for her to settle. "That's the girlfriend?"

You nodded your head without looking behind you.

"Whatchu got?" you pointed at her glass.

"Dirty Shirley."

"Ah, your favorite."

Paige pursed her lips, a smile threatening to break through. "How'd you know that?" she asked.

"It was all you drank that night," you reminded her.

"Hm," she smirked, "thought you said you didn't remember much."

'Fuck,' you thought to yourself.

"I remember bits and pieces," you shrugged, distracting yourself with your drink.

The blonde playfully narrowed her eyes. She remembered everything from that night, she had only pretended not to because she felt embarrassed that she remembered everything and you didn't. She had visited your Instagram multiple times in the weeks following that, cursing herself for not having the courage to ask you out or do anything other than pointlessly flirt with you.

But here she was, being presented with the opportunity to turn things around, and she planned to take advantage of it.

"So tell me, what else do you remember?"

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

Two martinis and four rounds of shots later, you and Paige found yourselves in an intense game of pool. She was currently beating you, her only objection to sink the eight ball in while you still had a few balls left to knock in.

You leaned over with focused eyes, carefully lining up the stick with the ball. You could feel Paige's presence beside you, her breath hot on your ear as she spoke. "She's crumbling," the blonde teased. She sensed your stress and she was feeding off it, a thrilled expression upon her face. "Will she sink it? Or will she fumble?"

You pulled the stick back, and with a swift movement, jolted it forward. The ball flew quickly across the table, ricocheting off the side and rolling back toward the middle.

"Oh! She shoots, she misses!" Paige commentated enthusiastically, the alcohol running through her system and giving her a buzz. She pointed her finger annoyingly in your face as she backed away, getting closer and closer to her position behind the eight ball. She mimicked the stance you had done; leaning over the table and zeroing in on the ball.

A beat of silence passed and Paige still hadn't moved, her eyes slowly moved upwards to meet yours. A smile broke out onto her lips, she stood up and twirled the stick around in her hands. "How about we make this a little more interesting," she suggested lowly.

"Interesting how?" you snorted, leaning against the table.

She stepped closer to you, towering over you with a gaze that had you practically foaming at the mouth. If Paige wanted to take you on the pool table right at that moment, you would've let her. Of course, that was just the alcohol talking, and there was quite a lot of it.

"I need one shot to win, and I want a reward when I do."

"A reward, huh?" I raised my eyebrows, noticing her step closer, "What kind of reward do you want?"

"I can think of a few things..." she murmured. Paige was trying hard to be seductive right now, and she couldn't tell if it was working or not. She had already failed to hookup with you once last year at the party, and she'd be damned if she failed again.

"Like what?" you took a step closer, batting your eyelashes at her. You were teasing her and she knew it. The alcohol coursing through your system was giving you a confidence boost like no other, and you couldn't think of a better way to make use of it other than flirting with Paige.

"Well for starters," she sighed, pulling gently on the Creighton jersey that you had yet to change out of, "I don't wanna see this anymore tonight."

"Oh yeah?" you quirked a brow at her.

"Yeah, and when I win, i'm gonna take it off you," she said confidently.

You could feel yourself sweating beneath your clothes, the pool stick in your hand suddenly becoming difficult to grip. You cleared your throat when she finally stepped back, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she repositioned herself on the other side of the table and focused on the ball. With a quick and calculated shot, the ball swiped cleanly across the table before falling into the desired slot.

The noise from the bar seemed to fade away as the realization of Paige's victory sunk in. People drunkenly moved around; dancing, singing, cheering at whatever was playing on tv, but none of that mattered to you anymore. You were unable to focus on anything other than Paige's blue eyes staring into yours, the color seemingly darker than it was just moments ago.

You rolled your eyes and set the stick down on the table, reaching for the hem of the jersey to take it off. Paige's hands quickly found your wrists, her face contorted in utter confusion. "What're you doing?" she asked.

You were playing with her.

"Taking the jersey off, isn't that what you wanted?" you frowned innocently.

Paige scoffed, "Don't test me. Let's go back to mine, you can take it off there."

You both bid your goodbyes to your friends, your roommate tossed you a questioning look that you dismissed with the wave of your hand. You waited impatiently outside for an Uber, Paige holding you close in attempt to shield you from the cold. Her eyes were fixed on your lips, the very ones that were trembling, begging to be warmed up by hers. From the moment she had seen you in the hallway she immediately recognized you, she'd recognize that ass anywhere. She had planned to send you a message tomorrow, running into you tonight had been unexpected but not unwelcome. It just gave her less time to think of what to say.

The car ride back to Paige's house left the two of you bright eyed and rosy cheeked; the radio was switched off and the driver spelled like he had just played in a basketball game and didn't bother to shower afterward. The backseat windows appeared to have a child lock on them, preventing either of you from breathing in fresh air. Between the buzz from all the drinking and toxicity of the car's air, you and Paige couldn't stop yourselves from laughing the whole way there. Her hands didn't leave your legs, but in the midst of all the welcomed chaos you hadn't even noticed.

You rolled out of the car, basking in the cold air with open arms. Paige trailed closely behind you, her hand on the small of your back as the two of you made your way up to her apartment. The second the elevators doors shut and you two were alone, your lips met hers in a searing kiss. She tasted sweet, like Dirty Shirleys and peach CÎROC shots. With your hands tangled in her hair, you pulled her closer, wanting needing to taste more of her.

Her tight grip on your hips, fingertips pressing into you, sent shivers throughout your body. She backed you into the wall, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth while you lowered your guard and let her. So caught up in the taste of you, she almost missed the elevator opening up to her floor. Hardly even breaking the kiss, you two made your way out. Paige knew exactly where to go and you were blindly being led by her, stumbling over your own feet.

Paige fumbled around in her pocket for her keys, roughly jamming them into the lock and pushing the door open. The apartment was dark with the exception of a few city lights pouring in through the windows. Standing in place for a couple seconds longer, you felt the kiss slow down before Paige stopped it completely.

"Fuck," she spoke breathlessly, running a hand through her hair. She reluctantly backed away from you, turning on the lights. With the apartment's kitchen now being fully lit, you could see into the living room as well. The place was beautifully furnished, with little fake plants placed around on the shelves and pictures of Paige and her friends framed up on the walls. Her couch looked far more comfortable than the couch Noa had described earlier and you were dreading having to return to it later tonight.

Paige appeared in front of you, her hands coming up to cup your face. "I want you to go into my bedroom, turn the light on, and then sit down on the bed and wait for me," she instructed lowly. You nodded silently, backing up in the direction of the bedroom while giving Paige the sexiest smile you could muster. In reality, you were absolutely panicking.

Once you got to the bedroom, you switched on the lamp that rested on the bedside table and seated yourself on the edge of the bed. You were unsure of how to sit, or maybe you should try lying down? You decided on taking your shoes and socks off first, neatly dropping them on the side of the bed. You didn't have time to further your thoughts on how to sit because just as you had finished putting your things aside, Paige entered the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She was carrying a bottle of water that she set down on the nightstand, laughing when she noticed you awkwardly staring.

"You look uncomfortable."

"I'm not, just waiting for you," you replied, hoping the shakiness in your voice didn't betray you.

Paige walked over and stood before you, enticingly biting her lip. She leaned down at the same time that you leaned back, a seductive game of cat and mouse as she crawled forward whilst you crawled backward. Your smiles grew when your back hit the headboard and you realized you had nowhere else to go.

"You've been staring at me all night with those eyes," she murmured, and you felt her breath on your lips.

"What eyes?"

Paige rubbed her own nose against yours before she reconnected your lips. She pushed your legs apart with her hands, running them up and down the smooth material of your leggings. You let out a soft moan into her mouth when her knee came in contact with your heated center, bucking your hips in order to feel more of her.

Paige took it upon herself to quicken the pace, instinctively grinding into you. Her lips eventually left yours, trailing down your neck and leaving wet pecks all over. Her teeth bit softly into your skin, marking you as hers. You pressed her further into you, hands snaking under her shirt and roaming all over her back. Her attack on your flesh was violent, the pain pulling a pathetic whimper out of you.

"Fuck, do that again," Paige mumbled against your skin, repeating her actions a little rougher this time to gain a bigger reaction from you.

"Ah, Paige!" you slammed your hand against her shoulder, screwing your eyes shut.

She yanked harshly at the jersey still clinging to your body, "Take this shit off," she spat out. She pushed you down into the mattress, ripping the garment from your body and discarding it somewhere in the room. Your sweatshirt came off next, leaving you clad in only a bra and your leggings. Paige pulled her own shirt over her head, her necklace dangling over your face. You used it to pull her back down into you, hungry for a taste of her again.

Her fingertips crept underneath you and she hooked them onto your bra strap, skillfully unlatching it and pulling it off you. Dilated pupils gazed down at your exposed breasts, her hands hastily coming up to touch them like a child in a toy store. She kneaded, sucked, licked, kissed, her attention focused solely on your hardened nipples, leaving your neglected pussy uncontrollably dripping.

"Paige," you whined desperately, your back arching so far off the bed that Paige's hands forced you back down.

"Hm?" she hummed inattentively.

"I need you..."

A loud popping sound came from Paige letting go of your nipple, holding your stare as she lowered her body closer to where you needed her most. Just as she had hooked her fingers on your bra strap, she hooked them on the waistband of your leggings and slowly pulled them down.

Your panties were downright soaked, earning a mocking laugh from the blonde.

"So wet for me mama," she purred, a smirk on her face.

She took her thumb and ran it straight down your clothed slit. You sucked in a sharp breath, hands already grabbing at the sheets on the bed. To Paige, you looked like an angel lying there, like a good girl with those pleading eyes as you waited to be fucked senseless. Finally, Paige removed your panties and tossed them aside with the rest of your clothes.

She shamelessly played around in your slick, soaking each and every one of her fingers in it.

"Tell me you want it."

"I want it Paige," you breathed out.

Paige's face appeared overtop of you, her jaw clenched tightly in disapproval, "Beg."

You were so turned on you didn't even protest, instead just propped yourself up on your elbows to be closer to her. Her fingers danced around in teasingly slow circles on your clit, a knot gradually forming in your stomach. "Please I want you to fuck me, please baby I need it so bad. Want your fingers inside me," you exhorted pathetically.

Without wasting another second, the blonde inserted two lengthy fingers inside of you. It was like looking into a mirror the way Paige's face copied yours; when you bit your lip, she bit hers, when your mouth involuntarily gaped open, so did hers. She was taunting you, forcing you to see how undone you were becoming. Tightly gripping her bicep, you dug your nails into the large muscle.

Her fingers pumped in and out of you, thumb doing work on your clit to bring you closer to the edge. The squelching noise that filled the room sent heat to your cheeks, and if it wasn't that then it was the look Paige was giving you as she fucked you. She was proud of the mess you were becoming, the mess she was making you. She kissed your lips over and over again even though you couldn't kiss back.

Your head was spinning with thoughts of Paige, the feeling of Paige inside you. Your toes curled involuntarily, noises you had never heard yourself make before echoed off the walls of the room.

"Yes yes yes, i'm close," you cried out, "fuck just like that!"

Paige hurriedly kissed her way back down to your pussy, replacing her thumb with her tongue. She mercilessly sucked you like a starved woman enjoying her first meal, or a guilty one enjoying her last. Her tongue moved nimbly against you, fingers fucking in and out of you and feeling the tightness as you clenched around her.

"You gonna come for me, huh?"

"Uh huh," you fervently nodded.

"Hmm," she hummed into you, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge, "let me hear you say it. I want to hear you say it."

"Yes! I'm gonna come for you..."

Paige expertly curled her fingers inside you, lying her tongue flat against your clit and forcing you to do none other than let go. The knot that had been building in your stomach finally fell apart, your legs snapping shut and trapping Paige's head there. You pushed and pulled at her, your desires becoming fuzzy as the orgasm swallowed you whole. Moans and strings of curse words unconsciously spilled from your lips. They were a stark contrast to the sweet things Paige cooed as she left kisses along your stomach, and your chest, and back up to your lips.

"Such a good girl," she whispered on your lips, "you were so good for me."

You shivered at the empty feeling you got from Paige pulling her fingers out of you, they were covered in the same slick that her chin was, glistening under the lamp's light. You smiled tiredly at her, snaking your arms around her neck and pressing your lips to hers.

"You tired?" she asked, observing your face.

"Yeah."

She pulled away from you and reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, twisting it open and bringing it to your lips. "Sleep here tonight," she said, "I can take you where you need to go in the morning."

Swallowing the water you said, "You sure?"

"Yeah, you probably can't walk after that anyway."

"Shut up," you snorted hitting her chest.

The two of you settled in bed together, your naked body finding warmth against her clothed one as she cuddled you close to her. You smiled to yourself, nuzzling your face in her neck and drifting off to sleep.

[blorbologist]

Y'know, I think I figured out why the Hells still feel like a new low-level party to me, even though they're level 13 and almost 100 episodes in.

I don't quite think it's the lack of conversations, or the fact half the party's plot hooks are big ties to past campaigns - though that definitely plays a part.

... Bell's Hells still primarily rely on quest givers.

Most of their goals are given to them and do not feel organic to the party, and constantly remind us that the Hells are pretty much never the most powerful people in the room. Which is usually something you see with a low-level party.

NPCs offering jobs is not a bad thing; it's a very common plot hook. Matt has been extremely skilled with using NPC quest givers in those two campaigns. Not only do they provide an obvious plot thread, but they can put the party in the path of others (say, the Nein running into the Iron Shepherds while doing a job for the Gentleman and everything that came of that). And the Hells had a solid start with it too - Eshteross was an excellent quest giver!

The problem is that Bell's Hells have never really not had a quest giver.

Maybe it's a byproduct of the more plot-heavy structure of this campaign? But while prior parties have felt like they decided on their course of action and what they prioritized, Bell's Hells feels less like level 13 (13! Level 13!) experienced adventurers and more like an MMO group clicking on the exclamation point over an NPC's head. Where does the plot demand we go next? Who do we report back to?

They're level 13.

At level 13, Vox Machina had just defeated a necromantic city-state to clear their name and Percy's conscience. And, you know, the Conclave just destroyed Emon. No one was explicitly telling the group to gather Vestiges and save the world (though Matt guided them there), and they were usually among the most powerful people in the room. They chose which Vestiges to prioritize, which dragons to tackle when, even if the over-all plot was pretty clear.

At level 13, the Mighty Nein were celebrating Traveler Con (another PC goal, I'll note) after brokering peace between two nations, accidentally becoming pirates and heroes of the Dynasty. The Nein regularly chose what to do based on personal goals, not grand ones. Though definitely smaller fish than Vox Machina at this level, they were very independent and gaining solid political clout.

While we're at it: level 13 is one level lower than the Ring of Brass, who had a huge amount of sway over Avalir. They ended the world, and also saved it, while in the grand scheme of things being only a smidge more powerful than Bell's Hells are now.

Can you really see the Hells wielding that amount of influence, when they're constantly being told what to do next?

The god-eater might be unleashed, so Bell's Hells have no time to do anything but what is asked of them. No time for therapy unless stolen from Feywild time, no travel on foot and late-night watches. They haven't even had time to grieve FCG. Percy was grieved in the middle of the Conclave arc. Molly was grieved when half the party was still in irons.

Matt is in the very unfortunate spot of not being able to give the Hells the same agency as the other two parties. Not only because of the world-ending plot introduced so early on; they are surrounded by characters they know (and the cast knows) are stronger and wiser than them - the familiarity of the past PCs and NPCs is to their disadvantage.

Why would the party reasonably ignore Keyleth's task that will help save the world and go off on a romp? Why would the cast when they know well Keyleth has to be sensible and with the best intentions in mind? The stakes are just too high.

It means that the Hells still feel like they're running errands instead of pursuing their own destiny. Their accomplishments are diminished as just being parts of a to-do list, and any stakes feel padded by several level 20 PCs/NPCs standing 5 steps away ready to catch them.

This isn't Bell's Hell's fault, nor is it Matt's. It could be amended, I think, if the Hells are really left to their own devices for a long period of time without support and shortcuts (like during the party split)... which would be really tricky to pull off at this point in the campaign.

They're level 13. They're big fish, but they're stuck in a pond full of friendly sharks, so they don't feel big at all.

[queers-gambit]

Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant

( a 303-page novel by Anne Taylor )

prompt: behind closed doors, many families have secret turmoil. you experience your boyfriend's with him one fateful Christmas. or how Carmy finally made the decision to get away.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 10.4k+

note: highly recommend the book. also let author write out her stress and trauma please, this was GOING TO get deleted but 10k is a lot of effort so please be kind in what you say.

warnings: spoilers, cursing, toxic family, small hurt and comfort, loving someone despite toxic situations beyond anyone's control, Lord's name in vain, a little of what happens after THAT scene, reader nicknamed Peach.

⚠️ season two, episode six spoilers

"What're you readin', Peach?"

You looked up through the lens of your glasses, smiling at your questioning boyfriend as his bare feet slapped the polished floors of the hotel suite you sought refuge in. You greeted with a soft tease, "Good morning to you, too, sunshine."

"Yeah, yeah. You're right, sorry, hi," he smirked, bending down to kiss your lips in greeting. "Been up long?"

"No, no, just about a chapter or so," you lied, not wanting him to know you've been up for hours out of sheer anxiety. "I made us some coffee, too."

"My perfect girl," he smirked, bending to kiss you again. "Want a refill?"

"I'm okay, thank you." It was quiet for a moment before you heard Carmy fucking around in the kitchen, trying to focus on the novel in your lap, but being most unsuccessful. "Don't forget about tonight," you called in reminder, wondering how to broach the subject before just ripping the Bandaid off.

"What's tonight, again?"

"Carmy."

"I'm kidding," he chuckled, exiting the kitchen to take a seat on the couch at your feet, bringing them onto his lap. "I know, we're gonna go over at, like, 2..."

You nodded absently, seeing the distant look in his eye. "Are you sure it's okay for me to come?" You wondered, nudging him with your foot.

"Hmm?" Carmy looked at you in confusion. "Peach, you've been before, why would it be weird now?"

"I don't know, I wasn't a girlfriend all those times I attended."

"Oh, you're a girlfriend this year? Hmm... To who?"

Your eyes rolled as you pinched him; loving the easy smile on his lips. "Not funny, I'm just trying to be sensitive to all parties," you pouted.

"I know," he allotted, taking a mouthful of coffee before setting his mug down. He started rubbing your feet and ankles, admitting, "I'm a little nervous, I guess..."

"I know."

"It's nice that you'll be there," he nodded, sighing. "They all still give me shit for going away."

"I know, and it's not fair to you," you assured, "you don't deserve that kinda treatment. Say the word, Bear, and we'll skip it."

"Too late now," he wiped his tired eyes. "I need a smoke, Peach."

"I'm gonna hop a shower."

"I'll be in," he smirked, standing with his coffee after gently lifting your feet from his lap. You watched him move for the balcony sans a shirt and frowned when your mind repeated the passage you had just read. Quickly, you opened your book again and read what made your heart so very heavy:

"'You think we're a family,' said Cody, turning back. 'You think we're some jolly, situation-comedy family when we're in particles, torn apart all over the place, and our mother was a witch.'"

The similarities were eery. You saw Carmy light up through the glass door of your rented hotel suite, knowing his family was falling apart and he was powerless to it all; they all were. Carmy, his siblings, any loved ones... You tossed the book on the table, stood, and moved for the balcony.

Carmy leaned on the railing, glancing over shoulder as your arms slithered around his middle. With a kiss to his bare shoulder, you whispered, "I love you, Cream. So much."

He took a long, steadying breath, but replied with full sincerity, "I know, and I love you, too, Peach. So much."

Yeah, that's right, bitches. You were Peaches and Cream. Did it get cuter than that? Didn't think so!

Another kiss to his shoulder and you promised, "I'll be with you the whole time."

"I know."

"You're not alone."

"I know," he sighed. "I just... I know what we're walking into."

"We'll get through it - whatever happens. C'mon, come get a shower with me. It'll save water and shit."

However, you probably used about twice as much because as obvious romp in the glass-stall started. When clean, you both got out, dried off, did your hair, then your make-up; then both getting dressed and ready for one helluva holiday.

On the way, you stopped to pick up flowers for Carmy's mother, Donna, keeping hold of the homemade peach cobbler you had prepared. The whole drive, Carmy kept a possessive hand on your thigh; his nerves showing through as he nervously tapped a rhythm to your flesh. You reminded him to breathe, but he couldn't focus long enough to keep himself regulated.

You tried distracting him with conversation, but nothing stuck for too long. You tried letting a hand thread into his curls, but it didn't soothe him like it usually did.

Arriving, you and Carmy just sat in your car for a long moment. You didn't rush him, you did't speak, you just held his hand with one hand as the other extended to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck; and waited for his move. "All right," he cleared his throat, throwing his cigarette butt out the window before rolling it up and cutting the engine. "You ready?"

"We got this," you assured softly.

"There you are," Carmy smirked, hands catching your waist as you tried to pass through the hall, "thought you ran outa here already."

"We're just warming up," you purred, his chest to your back; your arms crossed to hold onto his engorged biceps. You grinned as your foreheads met for a fleeting moment of peace.

"I'm really happy you're here," he whispered.

"Me, too."

"Love you, Peach."

"Love you, Cream," you sang, making him chuckle a little.

"You know, some of the guys thought you and I finally getting together is all some big cover story."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm," he hummed, snuggling into your embrace as you both found a secular moment of seclusion to get in a much-needed recharge. "Say you're actually dating some hunky Italian model dude."

You hissed between your teeth, "So, so close, but he's actually French."

Carmy chuckled, then took a sobering breath and glanced over his shoulder. "Should get back. I found Mikey and Nat - they were on the front stoop, smoking."

"Good," you mused, turning in his embrace. "Gimme a kiss, please, then you can go," you pouted.

He looked up, then at you with mocking confusion, "But there's no mistletoe."

"I wanna kiss."

He snickered at your pouting, fat lip, leaning in to find your lips with his. There was a brief moment outside of time, space, and reality; and it was when you and Carmy kissed. God, was he a good kisser, albeit a bit wet, but still a damn-good kisser; and you relished every moment of it. His taste was like an intoxication. His hands hot. Smell prickled your sinuses delightfully. Body firm, love warm.

"Ewww," Fak gagged when he saw you two, "get a room, nobody wants to see that! Ugh! God!" He shuffled past you.

"Fak," you snipped, watching him pause.

"Sorry, Peach," he sighed, leaning in to peck your cheek. "You look beautiful as ever."

You hummed, patted his cheek, and then took Carmy's hand to enter the kitchen after Fak where Donna worked frantically. "Hi, Mama, Dee!" You greeted cheerfully, Carmy's hand already sweating.

"Oh! Hi, my baby, Peaches! Oh, good, good, good, you made it!" Donna rushed over to kiss your cheeks, hands held out to not get grease or sauce or fish on you. "You look so beautiful!" She gasped, "Oh, honey, you look - wow! Stunning! Just stunning!"

"Oh, you just like flattering me," you teased, feeling Carmy's hand tighten. "Something smells so fucking amazing - oh, this is going to be a dinner for the books, huh?"

"Who's flattering who now?" She laughed.

"It's not flattery when it's completely true," you laid on thick, hoping the compliments bulked up to fluff her ego enough to save the family from an inevitable breakdown later.

"Did you bring your cobbler?" She asked with glee.

"Of course," you beamed, "I couldn't come here without one, that'd just be criminal!" Donna laughed with you, and you thought now was a good time to ask, "Can I help with anything?"

"What? Oh! No, no, no, honey, Peaches, no, no, no, I just want you to get a drink and go talk - go mingle! It's the holidays!"

You looked at Carmy as she went back to cooking, flabbergasted as to what you could say. "I'm gonna stay, you go - sit," He whispered with pinched brows and nodding his head, rubbing your waist. "Go 'head, baby, it's okay."

"I could peel - "

"It's alright, Peach," he chuckled, pecking your lips. "Go." His lips moved to your ear, "I want you good and drunk by tonight so we can have really dirty sex later, huh?"

"Deal," you purred. "But I can sit over there - "

"Peach."

You glanced at Donna, then at Carmy, whispering, "I just want to help."

"I know, Peach. Not right now though, okay?"

"She likes me, though." He nodded in agreement, looking ready to cave. "Stop trying to get outta this, Carmy, and just accept it," you smirked. "I'm gonna get some wine and be back."

He hummed as you kissed him in parting, and when you exited, missed the way Donna smirked at Carmy, "Can't leave a room without a kiss? Didn't think you'd ever be so possessive, Carmy, honey."

"I'm not, she likes it," he eased. "Here, let me get that," he freed her hands, trying not to snap when she picked up her wine immediately after. Carmen got to work doing what his mother barked at him, but then the Faks came in, and you returned, and then Mikey arrived - it all turning into an overcrowded shit-show.

"Where's the cake!?" Donna worried.

"It's defrosting, Ma," Carmen answered.

"Ma, why don't you let him help you?" Mikey sneered. "It's, like, all he fucking does, he'd be great."

"What was that? Was that, like, a shot?" Carmy snapped.

"Baby, don't, c'mon," you tried, reaching for his waist to curl your fingers so he felt your long nails. Not too hard, just enough to assure him you had ahold of him.

But Carmen couldn't let it go, even when his mother tired to diffuse the siblings. He snarled at his older brother, "I'm the guy that does food. You're the guy that what? Y-Y-You, uh, start a hundred different businesses and have zero follow-through."

"Carmy, don't," you tried, but it was lost to the sea of voices all talking at once.

But his brother was antagonizing, his mother deflecting, and he snapped, "This is why - This is why I didn't wanna come home, why I didn't wanna bring Peaches home to you all."

You remained silent when his mother snapped, "Oh, fuck you!"

"What the fuck!? What!?"

"Why the fuck would you say that?" Donna snarled.

"It's fuckin' Christmas," Mikey tacked on. They both over lapped one another, and Carmy felt backed into a corner.

"Not in front of my girl, man, fuck," Carmy had snipped at them.

"Say the fuckin' words!"

Carmy paused, then answered, "I love you, guys."

His mother was pleased and kissed his cheek, going back to cooking as Mikey kissed Carm's head. He looked over at you, mutely taking your outstretched hand to give a squeeze for each count to five; regulate his breathing, and then nodding in assurance he was okay. He went back to doing whatever his mother directed. Before he could slip away, you leaned into his ear, whispering, "I'm gonna step out."

"Good," he nodded, glancing back at his mom - but Donna was distracted. "I'll find you soon," he promised, pecking your lips before you exited the kitchen.

"Hey! Hey, Peach!"

"Hi, Mikey," you smiled, looking up at him when you paused outside the kitchen.

"Listen, uh... I just, uh... Look, I know I put you in a weird position," he sighed, hand to the back of his neck.

"How so?"

"By callin' you... Textin' you..."

"You want to check on Carmy," you sighed, "and you're as good as my real brother, so, I don't mind."

"It feels wrong since, you know, y'all are together now or somethin'."

"Mikey," you eased, "I was your guys' friend first, then I was family, and then I was Carmy's girlfriend. If you need your friend or your sister, I'm here, but if you need Carmy's girlfriend, I'll have to tell him. Get it?"

He chuckled, "I knew you'd understand."

"All too well," you eased.

"He doin' all right...?"

"He will be. He's just," you took a pause to sigh, "really tired and stressed. He works really hard, Mikey... Like really, really hard. Like you wouldn't believe."

"Nah, I know, Peaches, I know."

"Might be nice for him to hear that sometimes."

"That's what I'm fucking talking about!"

You apologized and had to leave Michelle when you heard Carmen's elevated voice, excusing yourself to look around the corner and spot your boyfriend in some heated argument with his brother and his brothers best friend, who they called Cousin, Richie Jerimovich. You were about to step in when you froze, hearing the argument without the guys realizing you were standing there.

"Seriously?" Mikey laughed. "You seriously think you're gonna keep a girl like Peach? Man, we all know this is some bullshit fling, but seeing Claire Bear - Man Alive!"

"That doesn't even make sense!" Carmy snapped.

"Oh, c'moonnnn, Carmy," Richie groaned, "look, I love her, I do, but we all know there ain't no way Peach is, like, girlfriend material. She's still sowing her wild oats, you know, just, fuckin' around and shit!"

"Fuck did you say!?" Carmy snarled, lunging for Richie but being caught by Fak's faster hands. "Huh!? The fuck did you just say!? Callin' my girl a slut? Fuck are you on about - "

"No, I ain't say - "

"Better watch your fucking mouth," Carm growled, "and learn to respect our relationship 'cause neither of us are goin' anywhere. Peach is here to stay - like it or not - and she's here to stay with me!"

"But you had such the crush on Claire - "

"I had a crush on Peach, too!"

"But Claire - "

"Nothing about Claire, Jesus, fuck! I don't need y'all fucking meddling! Peach and i are good, fuck you doin' set me up with some other chick!? I don't want nobody else - I got the girl of my fuckin' dreams, fuck you guys doin' tryna ruin that!?"

"We're just tryna help you, man, talk you up, man! Fuck! Don't gotta sound so ungrateful - "

"You don't need to! You don't need to talk me up to anybody, you fuckin' idiots! I have Peach! I don't need you to talk me up because I'm good, okay? I'm good. I got Peach, I'm committed to her, so don't try to talk me up to anyone for any fucking reason - good intentions or not!"

"Y'all aren't even serious!" Mikey laughed loudly. "C'mon! Peach isn't a relationship kinda girl, ain't no way you're thinkin' y'all are gonna last or be some, like, serious thing. You're just bored! But we're telling you, man, Carmy, you don't gotta be anymore, 'cause Claire Bear is - "

"Not my fucking girl!" Carm snapped, temper loosening. "Fuck off! Ain't got nothing decent to say - then just shut the fuck up!"

They called Steven in and you panicked for a millisecond before evening your stride to look like you just arrived. "Hey," you smiled to the lads, "what's all the yelling about? Jesus Christ, it's like a holiday at my house when Meemaw comes to visit."

"I told you," Carmy's attitude directed at you, making you feel disarmed, "these assholes don't respect our relationship, they were trying to set me up with someone else."

You offered the others a stale look as your hand latched to Carmy's, sounding like a scolding mother, "Real mature, you guys. That's wildly disrespectful and it's hard not to take it personally."

"We don't mean it in a bad way, Peach," Richie sighed, "just that there's other options and neither of you have to settle."

"'Settle'?" Carmy laughed, and you had to readjust your stance to prevent him from charging. "You're forgetting Peach did whatever she could to make us work, she was loyal when none of y'all could bother answering the phone, and she always held me down. And then, when I was finally good, I promised her we could come home. So, you jagoffs owe her your thanks that we're even home this Christmas."

"None needed," you smiled, wanting to start screaming yourself but holding back for the sake of Carmen. "I'm sure their jealousy keeps them warm at night, who am I to take that from them by having them apologize?"

"Don't do that," Mikey groaned. "Get all high and mighty."

"How have I ever? You're the assholes shitting on your brother for having a girlfriend. Just 'cause you've all thought about me when self-pleasuring, doesn't mean take your jealousy out on our relationship."

The argument started up again, sighing as you didn't engage but instead tried to hold your boyfriend back when he bared his teeth at a few comments hurled at you both. You flinched away when Mikey started reaching for Carmy to physically pick at him, inciting his anger; making him snap back to not "fucking touch" him.

"Mikey, please," you tried to stave off, but Richie reached out and lugged a heavy arm around your shoulders. "Richie, for fuck's sake. C'mon, just fuck off. Mikey, don't fucking touch him - c'mon, guys!"

"Awh, you get so defensive for him, it's so cute," Richie laughed, jostling you a little as Mikey and Carmy still snapped and snarled at each other in the way only siblings could.

"'Cause y'all don't know how to fuckin' stop," you pushed Richie off you. But then...

"HEY!"

You flinched when a wooden spoon flew through the air to hit Stevie, who yelped in shock from the sting. "Hey! What the fuck?" He looked up and asked, "Auntie D, did you just throw a spoon at me?"

"Yeah, I did," Donna snarled, hanging in the doorway. "You, Richard, bring her the pop - "

"Deedee - "

"You, Carmen, I need you!"

This triggered another avalanche of voices to overlap one another. You moved towards Carmy as Mikey approached his mother, hearing Richie tell Carmen, "We're not done about this Claire Bear thing."

"Yes, you fucking are," you snapped, pushing Richie a half-step back. "Fuck off, Cousin, you're taking this too far."

"I only meant - "

"We all know what y'all mean, but go fuck yourself! We're happy, now either accept that or fuck off 'cause you're not gonna come between us. Go, goodbye, go, go, go tend to your pregnant wife - go, goodbye, fuck you," he tried to talk over you, sounding amused, "Merry Christmas, I love you and shit, but fuck you, go away."

He backed off as Stevie left the room, allowing you to turn for Carmy as he leaned on the arm of an armchair. His head shook and reached for you, bringing you in closer until his head rested on your stomach and his arms coiled in a vice grip. You frowned and thread your fingers through his hair, hearing his mother starting up another tangent about needing Carmen. With a sigh, he looked up at you, "Thank you."

"Hmm?"

"For just being here," he whispered. "I'm sorry about them."

"They're breaking your balls, baby," you smiled, curling his curls behind his ears. "C'mon, we should go help your mama."

Carmy sighed and stood to his feet, "You don't have to stay."

"But then how will I know you're okay?" You pouted, watching him smile and wrap his arms around your waist.

"I'm sorry about them," he whispered. "They don't - they don't know what the fuck they're talking about."

"It's okay," you matched his tone, ignoring your own burning-hot emotions. "They're just jealous."

He nodded, hearing his mother snarl something else about needing him; making Carmy sigh. His lips found yours in a slow kiss, pausing to lean his forehead on yours, "Really grateful you're here with me, Peach."

"Nowhere else I'd rather be, Cream," you grinned, starting to lead him back towards the kitchen.

"Hang on," he paused you, glancing around to see nobody lingering. "You know I love you, Peach, right?"

"And you know I'm very serious about this relationship, Carmy, right?"

He rested against you, breathing, "I know." Then his lips spread in a grin, "Gonna marry you one day, Peach."

"Good," you teased, but being honest, "because I can't see spending my life with anyone else but you, Cream. I mean, who else has a family this entertaining?"

He laughed as he followed after you.

"Help me, Peach, please, Goddamn it," Donna grunted, trying to lift a heavy, full cast iron pot. "There we go," she mused when you gabbed the other end to put it back on the burner. You didn't comment that it was the same pot she had Carmy move earlier, just doing as she asked.

She only let you in the kitchen because of Carmy.

Speaking of... "Behind, baby," Carmy muttered, a hand ghosting your waist as he moved. Sugar appeared and you only tried to minimize yourself as eight different timers were ringing for any unknown fucking reason.

Donna sent Carmy off to get saltines for a pregnant, nauseous Tiff, leaving you three women. "Oh!" Donna gasped, "You're almost empty! Here, here, Peach, here you go!" She cheered when she saw your nearly-empty wine glass. Sugar sent you a long look, and you knew this was eating her alive to watch her mother like this; but you hoped you were enough of a buffer for them.

A few minutes later, Donna asked if you could go grab another bottle of wine for you two to share. You froze, between a rock and a hard place; knowing you shouldn't but not wanting to upset the host. You had once done the same with your own mother, perhaps being a reason you didn't go home for holidays.

"Yeah, of course, one second, Miss Lady," you told Donna, sending a confused look to Sugar.

When you walked out, you nearly ran straight into Carmy. "Shit," he breathed, "sorry, baby, didn't mean to run into you like."

"It's okay, but where you goin', speed racer?"

"Mikey's gift," he actually grinned, watching you return his excitement after knowing how much thought he put in.

"You know we're doing exchanges later," you laughed lightly, watching him go. Finding the wine rack, you selected a bottle, and returned to the kitchen where Donna and Sugar were bickering. "Here," you smiled, setting the bottle down to uncork it.

"Thank you, honey," Donna purred, accepting your pour. When she turned for the stove again, you winked at Sugar and discreetly tipped the wine bottle over into the sink to drain it until it was about a quarter way full. "Carm? Where the fuck are my saltines?" She yelled.

When he returned, he gave his mother what she needed before approaching you. "Wanna take a break?" He mumbled.

"Dinner doesn't make itself, baby," you teased.

"Hmm," he hummed, pecking your neck, "I'm gonna run Tiff up some crackers."

You continued your work for several long minutes, when suddenly, Donna pulled one of the seven fishes from the oven. She turned, set it on the counter, but stumbled last second to accidentally knock her wine glass over. The shattering made both Sugar and Donna swear. You wanted to help, but Sugar was already on the floor trying to clean, causing Donna to seethe, "It's like I fuckin' have to do everything for everyone." You and Natalie tried to assure her, but she spoke over any reassurance, "No one fucking lifts a finger to help me."

"Look, I'm getting it right now!"

Donna leered over her daughter, making you freeze, "Can you just go upstairs and get Dad's gun out of my drawer," she held her thumb and pointer finger like a gun, muzzle to her temple, "and I think I'm just gonna blow my fuckin' brains out, and then you guys can make dinner - " Sugar tried to speak over her mother but was unsuccessful, "because I don't think anyone would fuckin' miss me!"

Natalie sobbed as she tried to say anything other than "No! You're okay!" When the older woman gabbed her daughter's cheeks in a pinching-hold, you felt like throwing up as the scene - the words - the actions - it was all too familiar to you. They still yelled over one another, but then, Steven entered the kitchen and disturbed them all.

He only got to greet, "Hey, Donna, Mama D - "

Before Donna screeched at him, "Oh, motherfucking asshole!"

"Out, out, out," You ushered, gently directing Stevie to the door; Sugar repeating what you said as Donna still snarled and yelled and insulted and cursed.

"Get the fuck out!"

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," you whispered when you pushed him out the door. "Thank you for offering, but we got it - it's okay."

You sniffled as Sugar collected the trash and promised to take it out; one of the timers ringing. Donna looked lost and confused as Sugar left, the matriarch whispering, "What's that for?"

"Is it the flounder?"

She didn't answer, lost in her mind, yet muttering, "Nobody would fuckin' miss me."

"Mama D?" You called, watching her startle back into reality. "Is that timer for the flounder?"

"Oh! Right! Yes!" She clapped, pointing at you, "And that's why you're my favorite, Peach. Tell you what," she scoffed, shaking her head, "don't you ever have kids. They fuckin' ruin everything, never show gratitude, never bother to help their fucking mother."

"Well, I'm not thinking about kids yet," you chuckled softly, hoping to distract her. "Still got a lot more life to live before that."

"Just don't do it," she spat. "Even with a sweet boy like Carmy, kids just ruin relationships. Marriage ain't no better, either. What - where's the fucking bread?"

"Here," you sighed, showing her the bread basket.

"Hey," Carmy entered the kitchen, looking exhausted, "can I talk to you for a second, Peach?"

"If your Mama doesn't need me," you nodded, not wanting to tell him too much about what you witnessed.

"I need you everyday, honey," she spoke softly, leaning in to peck your cheek, "but it's fine, it's fine - I don't need help. Go with Carmy. Go, go, go, go."

"Holler if you need us," you smiled, "even if it's just for hot gossip."

"My girl," she teased gently with a wink.

"C'mon," Carmy muttered, taking your hand, and leading you out a side door. He glanced around a few times, finally finding a secluded part of the house. When he came to a halt, you did too, and he sighed as his hands took your waist, "Sugar told me to come rescue you. Said something happened with Mom and I should check on you? The hell happened?"

You shrugged, "Just... Sometimes I forget what family feels like. I left mine for a multitude of reasons, maybe I feel like I fit in better with you Berzatto's. Mama D just got frustrated, and it reminded me of my mom. I wasn't scared, but I think I was triggered."

He nodded, "You need a break."

"I'm okay, I promise."

"You're not," he sighed. "You shouldn't be on the frontlines against her. Okay? It's too stressful for anyone and I need you with me. I need you whole. You know? Need you intact for me, and Ma's only gonna rip you to shreds."

You pouted, "I just... I thought if I helped, she'd feel calmer, maybe save you guys from taking her shit. We used to cook all the time together..."

Carmen sighed, reaching for your cheek to caress your jaw, "You really are a sweetheart." Carmy leaned in and claimed a kiss from your lips, making you both sigh in contentment. When he pulled back, Carmy whispered, "I love you, Peach."

"I love you, too, Bear."

"Carmy!"

He whined, deflating on your shoulder at his mother's cry. "Holidays are almost over, baby. Gotta hang on for a bit, I need you intact, too."

You parted ways, Carmy returning to the kitchen as you meandered around the rest of the rooms, peaking into each of them. "Hey!" Someone cheered, making you look up to a separate doorway leading to a sitting room.

"Oh, shit, hey, Pete!"

"Peaches!"

"Just Peach!"

He laughed and accepted your hug, "Merry Christmas! Happy holidays, seasons greetings, warm tidings, and shit."

"You, too," you cooed, glancing at the tin in his hand. "Oh... Y-You brought something?"

Pete blinked as the room snickered. "Yeah? It's... It's tuna casserole."

"And you brought fish... Why?"

"'Cause it's the Feast of Seven Fishes - "

"And by bringing tuna, it'd be eight fishes."

He sighed, "Yep, so I keep being told."

"I mean, good intentions, honey, but wildly misplaced," you winced. "Probably shouldn't let Carmy see..."

And of course, when you said that, your boyfriend came from behind to clap his hands and call, "Hey, family!" He tried to announce dinner but Pete was too happy to cheer loudly and greet your lover. "Woah, woah, woah. What the fuck is that?" Carmy demanded when he saw the aluminum dish tin.

"Don't tell him," Michelle voted.

"What do you mean, 'don't tell him?'" Mikey followed.

"It's nothin', it's nothin', I - "

"Peach," Carmy looked at you, making you freeze, "what is this? What is that? Peach, the hell is that?"

"Um, well," you tried to smile in reassurance, taking his stiff hand, "you know, you're gonna get mad, but Pete's heart was in the right place."

From behind, "Uncle" Lee told Carmy, "It's a tuna casserole."

You saw the way Carmy locked in on Pete, taking a half-step back but not letting go of his hand. "It's seven fishes, Pete," Carmy snapped. It started a new wave of slander. By the end, his hand was clamped around yours in a vice, leading you through the room and telling Pete, "Just don't let her see. Don't let her see!"

"Dinner," you reminded the room, following Carmy as Sugar passed to approach her husband.

"Wanna help me dress the desserts table?"

You nodded in agreement, and together, you and Carmy brought out all kinds of dishes to leave on the table. You were bringing out the peach cobbler you brought when you caught the tail-end of whatever Michelle was telling Carmy. "That's so nice," you interrupted, moving between the two to set down the cobbler, "offering up your place like that, but we have one."

Her head cocked, asking in interest, "You do?"

"My family does," you nodded.

"Well, think about what I said," Michelle told Carmy. "Would love to see you guys in the city," she smirked at you.

"Yeah, all right, sure," he agreed. When she left, you turned on your boyfriend with confusion, but he only sighed, "She was recommending I get away from this family-drama bullshit."

You shrugged, "Not a half-bad idea."

"We'll see..."

"Carmy," you frowned, "we'll do whatever is best and right for us. Okay? Nothing more or less."

"I hear you," he muttered.

"And I just got confirmation that we can use the apartment in Manhattan," you told him. "So, whenever we're ready to go, we can go, okay? We don't have to shack up in a hotel room for much longer."

"I don't mind it," he eased. "I'll make a decision... I'll make a decision by this weekend about New York, okay?" You agreed, him looking over your shoulder before taking your hand. "Dinner's on," he reminded, feeling your hand snake around his waist to rest; letting his arm raise to accommodate you, latch around your shoulders, continuing forward to the dining room.

However, before entering, you pulled Carmy to a halt. "Hey, hey," you smiled, turning him to face you, "I'm really proud of you for coming home. I know it's not easy, but you're so brave for going through this."

"'Brave'?" He scoffed.

"Brave," you agreed, nodding. "People associate it with knights slaying dragons, but in my opinion, it takes far more bravery to stand up to family than it is a stranger. Takes more bravery to confront those that haunt your home than it does to confront a literal dragon. Hmm?"

Carmy reached a hand out to curl a strand of hair behind your ear. "How'd you get so insightful?"

"That bullshit college you, Mikey, and Richie all roasted me about going to them years ago? Yeah, uh-huh, that education paid off."

"Didn't do shit for your grammar, though, did it?"

"Hush," you laughed, pinching his sides to make his squirm.

You and Carmen entered the dining room to see mostly everyone in their seats; slowly making it to your own on the other side of the table. "Here, Peach," Natalie smiled when you sat between her and Carmy; her at the head of the table. "Got you a refill," she set your wine glass in front of you.

"You're a literal angel."

"I have a question," Cicero addressed your half of the table as Carmy got up to check on his mother. "I heard why we call Sugar, Sugar, but where did the nickname 'Peach' come from?"

"Oh," you smiled at him, "Miss Mama Dee taught me to bake and helped me perfect this peach cobbler recipe. I brought it to all my family events, work events, and when I attended, all my school events. Since then, it just stuck as a name."

He hummed and nodded, offer a silent toast with his glass as Carmy returned - looking mildly startled.

You heard Michelle asking if she could start the process to dish up what she wanted to her plate, Carmy assuring her to wait until Donna; she was coming out at any minute. You leaned back in your chair, nuzzling your boyfriend's side; his hand latching around your upper knee to keep you close with you hugging his arm. "All right?" He mumbled, glancing down at you.

"Are you?"

"Mhm."

"What'd your mom say?" You whispered, feeling him stiffen. "Carmen, please..."

"She's upset, stressed; says nobody cares, nobody makes shit beautiful," he whispered frantically.

"Okay," you soothed in his ear, "just breathe, baby, I need you to breathe. Shh," his head was bowed so you pecked his cheek, "she's just stressed from the holidays. We all know how she gets."

He sighed and nodded, caressing the skin of your leg he had been gripping tightly. "Hey, Mikey?" Michelle asked sweetly.

"Yeah?"

"You wanna say grace?"

Mikey gave an awkward sort of chuckle, relenting, "I don't know, cousin. This motherfucker gonna cut me off?"

You blinked and reached for your wine, intrigue peaking. Uncle Lee, who the jab was directed at, cleared his throat and answered, "It depends. Uh, is it a grace we've heard a million times before?"

"Okay, okay," Cicero stepped in.

You offered, "Well, good Christians know the prayers 'cause they're said a million times, right? Huh?"

"Yeah!" There was another round of agreement, desperate to direct the attention away from the two men.

"Does that mean you wanna lead grace, Peach?" Jimmy asked.

"Oh, no, no, I think the honor should go to Stevie."

"Can I please not?" Steve blanched at the thought of public speaking.

His wife, Cousin Michelle, changed the subject by asking about the Feast of Seven Fish. Before you or anyone else could truly answer, Uncle Lee was overpowering everyone to give his explanation; trying to make a joke at the end about a Dutch oven by Baby Jesus' manger that burned him or something. You gasped when Mikey lobbed a fork at him, making a buzzer noise while he did.

"Oh," Carmy realized when you did, stretching his arm out to extend over you like a seatbelt; fork clattering to the floor.

"Did you just throw a fork at me!?"

"I did!" Mikey sang, chuckling to himself. "See, that's the thing, Lee, see, 'cause... Y-You see what you did, right? You remember you already bitched about the Dutch oven. See, you did that before."

"Michael," Cicero tried to diffuse, but Mike was deflecting like usual.

"And you fucking cut Peach off," Mikey snarled. "Trying to prove you're the smartest, right? Wanna answer a question that she'd answer the best? Last I checked, she studied different religions in college, so, why the fuck would you want to answer - instead of Peach - if not to just make a repeated, shitty joke?"

It made Carmy now bark, "Mike, hey, don't bring Peach in this, okay? Please, just - just chill out."

But Lee was just getting started. He was scolding Michael, and in the process, stuttered just a bit, but it was enough of a visible weakness. Mike started mocking Lee for his words and delivery, just angry at the 'uncle' without knowing directly what truly bothered himself. In fact, riding high on his angry adrenaline, Mikey looked over and asked for Fak's fork, but the tattooed family-friend wasn't too willing to hand it over; hoping this would pass and settle.

Mikey just reached for Fak's fork himself, promising he just wanted to borrow it. Yet he launched it in the air to throw at Lee again, the entire table voicing their discomfort and displeasure. Everyone tried to diffuse the tension; desperate to muddle the tension enough so it did not, at the least, escalate.

"Carmy," you worried, holding his protective arm, "we should do something. I can get Mikey out of here - "

"No," he muttered sharply, "you don't need to be so physically close to that kind of behavior."

You felt the air shift when Mikey told Lee he could throw forks if he wanted to because they were in his father's house. The tension brewed and your boyfriend looked more and more uncomfortable; leaning into his side enough to get him to do the same and lean into you while both sat rigidly.

Now Lee lit into Mikey in front of everyone about how he was living with his mother still, borrowing money from her and anyone else who listened to Mikey's "bullshit". Now Cicero was pushing back at Lee, not appreciating the turn of events after being labeled a "sucker" by Lee only moments prior.

However, Mikey stepped back in, assuring Cicero it was "fine" that he wanted to mouth off - and Lee angrily repeated it. But he was far from being over; starting a new tangent, calling Mikey a loser. Then he started to throw the man's drug use in his face, telling Mikey to look through the fog and understand that there'd be consequences if he threw another fork.

It was quiet.

Nobody said a word as they all waited for Mikey's reaction. Carmen appeared on high alert, waiting for someone to make a move in case he had to jump in. Mikey asked Pete for his fork, picking it up, and creating a new tidal wave of voices all begging Michael not to do shit. To put the fork down. To not do a fucking thing. Over all the voices, it was Sugar's that cut above; reminding her brother she loved him, begging him not to do this.

Stevie giggled nervously, apologizing for it - claiming he giggled when uncomfortable. But Mikey encouraged him NOT to apologize, to fucking giggle and, "enjoy this," 'cause, "this is fun!"

You were so fucking nervous for whatever was to come.

Carmy's one arm was extended over you, the other crossed over his own body to hold your hand through the arm of the chair he sat in. Cicero tried to diffuse everything, Carmy's voice snapping support; but nothing was truly registering in Mikey's brain. In fact, he stood, and Lee flinched when he moved as if to throw the fork; guffawing at and mocking the man's reflexes. This only created an opening for Lee to, again, take shots at Mike's drug use; claiming his flinch was a reflex, something someone had when their nerve endings weren't fried - like a junkie's. Naturally, it caused an entirely new fight.

One where, during which, Mike brayed and screeched like an animal; and by the end, it was Lee telling Michael to throw the fucking fork so he had an excuse to rock his shit. At this point, you were ready to scream and support the violent display if just to get this over with. Lee snarled and repeated that Mikey was "nothing", and for a moment, you thought all hell was about to break loose.

Yet you wouldn't ever know. "There she is," Cicero clapped, directing the attention towards Donna as she entered at long last. You looked at Carmy and squeezed his hand, leaning in to quickly peck his lips in reassurance. The table clapped for their drunk host, watching her dance to her seat with a full glass of wine and burning cigarette; asking them all what she missed.

"I missed something," she grinned. "Peaches? What'd I miss?"

"Hmm? Oh, uh," you cleared your throat, "we were just discussing the tradition of the Feast of Seven Fishes."

"Boo," she pouted.

"Actually, Ma, Stevie, uh, Stevie was about to say grace," Mikey deflected.

"Not Peach, who studied religion?" Lee mocked.

"Oh, honey, that would be so cool," Donna nodded at you.

"I think I'd like to hear Stevie's prayer," you smiled, "but if he fucks it up, I'll take over."

Donna giggled before sniffling and composing herself while Michelle reassured her husband enough to encourage him to lead the family prayer. You half-listened, distracted by your boyfriend's body language. His hand still held yours, but now, he was sitting up with the other hand covering his mouth. The table was shockingly quiet as Stevie spoke, everyone listening; liking his impromptu speech about love, family, holidays, and bears.

By the end, everyone was softly complimenting the man; his wife hugging him; Mikey even voicing a compliment. However, you were distracted by Donna's reaction as she sniffled her tears, wiped her face, and took deep, dramatic sighs. Cicero laid his hand on her shoulder in comfort, but Donna picked up her cig and muttered, "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter."

"Oh, Donna," Michelle cooed.

"It doesn't," she whispered.

As the table took turns trying to assure Donna that everything was gorgeous, you noticed the rigid way Carmy sat. "Baby," you whispered, watching him glance at you before leaning back a bit and wrapping his arm around you in an effort to remain close. However, before anyone could do anything, Sugar was asking those two words that triggered her mother:

"You okay?"

"Oh, my God," a few people muttered softly, Carmy and Mikey looking the most distraught by her words. Your lips pursed in nerves, watching Donna like a ticking time bomb; Carmy's hand sweating, leaving you anxious.

"Oh, Natalie," Donna sneered, "Rose Berzatto, do you know how much I fucking hate when you ask me that?"

"Okay," Sugar whispered, bowing her head, averting her eyes.

"Do you know," Donna enunciated, "how much I fucking hate - "

"Let's go upstairs."

" - that you have to do that!"

"Okay," Sug whispered again.

"D-Do you ask the rest of these people if they're okay?"

"No."

"N - " Donna stuttered, revving up. "Do I not look okay, Natalie?"

"Not really," Michelle answered as if without thought she had verbalized it, shaking her head.

You wanted to step in, you did; you own mother was an unmedicated, raging narcissistic, bipolar maniac with a drinking problem. You knew how to handle people like this... But this wasn't your fight, this wasn't your family; you were a mere guest, there to support your boyfriend in any way you could.

Donna glared at Michelle as Sugar offered to go upstairs again. However, the matriarch snapped, "Oh, fuck you, Michelle."

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Carmy tried to rein his mother in.

"I didn't mean it like - "

"Do I not look okay? Did I not just bust my ass all day for you motherfuckers!?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Michelle rushed, looking down - like the others.

"This!" Donna stood, both hands gesturing to the table, "Is beautiful! Am I okay!?" She whipped around to glare at her daughter. "Am I okay!?" And then... She glared at you, "Well, let's ask, are you okay, Peach? Huh? Are you okay not having family invite you around for the holidays so you come here to fill a void and overcompensate by inserting yourself where you're not even wanted?"

You froze, brows furrowing. What had you done to deserve this unprovoked attack? You were used to it from your own mother, but that was because you were her child and it was an easy attack. This, however, was someone without blood relation laying into you about some deeper-seeded insecurities. Sure, you missed your family, but they were wildly unpredictable, unsupportive, unwelcoming, judgmental, harsh, and constantly at your throat about things that they had no business having an opinion on in the first place. It was better you stayed away - something Carmy still had to reassure you about, so to hear his mother use it against you stung beyond words.

"Hey, hey, woah," Cicero tried, Mikey voicing his own displeasure, but Carmy's was the most prominent.

"Don't bring Peach into this, Ma, please - "

"Are you motherfuckers okay!?" Donna screeched, silencing them all. "Are you okay, Lee?" She mocked. "You didn't do shit! This is fucking gorgeous!" She glared around the table she had gestured at, then, picked up a plate as she roared, "FUCK!" Then she smashed the plate to the floor, "YOU!"

You didn't flinch when you heard the shatter, instead, reaching a hand up to hold Carmy's cheek and keep him turned from the sight. One of his hands held your elbow, a way he communicated to assure you that he liked your touch.

"Fuck you!" Donna directed at the table again. Then, she muttered and pointed at Sugar, "Fuck you." Donna made her exit, sobbing, "Fuck you, Natalie."

The door slammed and you were left in a tense, ear-ringing silence. Slowly, your hand drifted off Carmy's cheek to just sit in silence, both your hands holding his. Nobody was sure what to say, and frankly, nobody wanted to be the first who broke the silence...

Until Lee exhaled deeply and opened his mouth - like he was some prominent member of the family, "Well, I guess we all knew that was gonna happen. So it's out, and, uh, maybe everybody - everybody can relax, huh?"

Your head shook.

"Yeah, that's, uh... That's the worst I've ever seen her," Michelle noted.

You wanted to snap that the mentally ill deserved kindness and respect like every other person. Perhaps they require a different sort of understanding, but you know what? Humans are humans for many reasons, one being the ability to empathize, and it wouldn't kill them all to try and offer Donna more understanding.

Especially in times of high stress!

However, nobody got to comment because Mikey let his temper flare from Lee's words. He picked up Pete's fork and lobbed it at an unsuspecting Uncle Lee; the metal utensil clattering to the floor, making Lee immediately snap, "You fuckin' piece of shit!"

Mikey rose to meet the challenge, purposefully overturning the poker table used as an extension off the "main" table; sending everything shattering to the floor as the Fak Brothers had to hold either enraged man back. It was a frenzy: Mikey and Lee yelling, Brothers holding them back, Cicero, Michelle, and Steve standing to get away from the fight as Cousin Richie directed pregnant Tiff to go with Uncle Jimmy.

Carmy rose, too, but you shot out of your chair, pleading over the noise, "Don't, please, not you."

He sighed at you, remaining put as you watched the escalated fight wage in the dining room. Richie was caught in the middle, trying to retain space between the feuding men; but it was all so very surreal due to Mikey just literally screaming to make himself feel big, bad, and heard. All of a sudden, in the very next room, there came a distant scream before a fucking car came barreling through the living room wall.

You had flinched into Carmy out of shock, and for a moment, nobody even so much as fucking breathed. Mikey was the first, approaching the car and begging for his mother to open the door; asking her what she had done; to please open the fucking door. Sugar remained seated, rooted in her spor; Carmy only moving like a zombie to get a better look - not believing his eyes. Everyone else was in shock and you just felt something click into place in your heart, mind, and gut.

No, you mother had never driven a car through the house, but you weren't a stranger to dramatic displays.

"Okay, okay," you cleared your throat, slipping past Carmy to moved for Mikey. "Hey, hey, hey, hey," you caught hold of him, pulling him off the vehicle, "you need to step back, okay? I'm gonna get it open, I'll get her to a hospital."

"No cops," Richie snapped.

"No cops," you agreed, "hence why I'll take her."

Mikey only shuffled when you stepped up, picked up a brick from the rubble, and with pristine accuracy and strength, shattered the back, drivers side window. Moving swiftly, you reached around to unlock the driver's door - yelping when Donna literally bit you.

"Fuck's sake, stop biting!" You snapped, unlocking the door and wrenching your arm free as you opened the door at the same time. "Donna, hey, hey, hey," you knelt, "you hurt? Hey, Donna, it's Peach, c'mon, I need you to tell me if you're hurt!"

She only cackled manically as she tried to stave you off.

You steeled yourself and lifted up only to keep at a bend so you could scoop Donna out. She started thrashing and you had to set her down, groaning, letting Mikey step in.

"She needs to get checked out right now," you told him.

"C'mon," Jimmy agreed as he stepped up, "I'll drive."

Mikey nodded in agreement and carried his mother out of the house, allowing you to sit in the car and shut it off. When you stood and looked around, there was still a heavy air of shock. Glancing at the damage behind you, you figured maybe you could back the car out so you could start cleaning.

"Richie, why don't you take Tiff home, I'm sure she's exhausted," you recommended softly.

"Nah, I'll help clean," he told you.

"Sure?"

"Yeah," he sniffled.

"Mind helping me get the car, you know, out of the living room?"

"Tell me what to do, baby girl."

Richie drove as you sat passenger, directing him; the two of you working to get the car in reverse and out of the wall. You got out to direct him the rest of the way, and left the car in the garage. When you got back in, you noticed that Sugar and Carmy were both gone, and you went into what your boyfriend called "Mama Bear Mode."

Tiff was allowed to rest upstairs, Michelle and Stevie left, and the Fak's left to go get you tarps and other equipment from their house since all stores were closed. You went outside and fought the cold to grab a wheelbarrow from the community garden shed about half a block away, and bringing it to the hole. Richie grabbed some snow shovels and dust pans and brooms, and together, you got to work on cleaning. It took the better part of a 3ish hours, things going a little faster when the Faks returned; helping pick up, sweep, and dump the material out of the house. They brought ladders and huge tarps, getting up to the wall to start installing the material to prevent the horrendous draft sure to come in.

Several times, the boys told you to sit - but you couldn't. So, you worked. And when it was done, you let the men to sweep the remains as you noticed the dining room still in disarray. Any layers of clothing you wore were shed, hair pulled off your neck and away from your face; preparing for the longest clean-up job you'd know.

You stored all food, organized the dirty dishes with the ones in the kitchen still, then worked on clearing space. The table was freed and you took advantage to lay out some bath towels, then getting to work. The reason you had organized the dishes was because you could wash all plates and set them in the drying rack; when done, you'd use a separate towel to dry the dishes and stack them on the dining room table.

Same for all saucers, utensils, glasses - water cups, wine glasses, and anything someone used for a stronger liquor.

Your feet ached, back protested, ears rang with the aftermath of the night. Richie took Tiff home, the Faks heading out as well; leaving you alone in the Berzatto house with only Carmy and Sugar.

You still worked so they wouldn't have to later.

Dishes stacked on the table, your fingertips pruned from the water, the sink decently filthy from food-waste. You didn't notice the time had passed until a pair of arms came wrapping around your waist - making you jump from being startled. But the tattoos on the hand was enough to assure you the man's identity; lips finding purchase on the slope of your neck and shoulder.

"You don't have to do this," Carmy whispered.

"I'm almost done," you promised, setting another bowl to the rack. "Where you been?"

"With Sugar. She was pretty upset, so, Pete and I were with her."

You nodded, "Good. She okay now?"

"She's asleep."

"You should be, too."

"You know I don't like sleeping without you," he sighed, and you felt his frown. "I'm... I'm really sorry."

"For what?"

"For us coming this year."

"I'm not," you promised. "It's okay, we'll take it in stride."

"It shouldn't be like this."

"No, it shouldn't. You deserve better, Carmy," you whispered, leaning back into his embrace - his arms tightening. "Heard from Mikey?"

"Yeah, he said the ER was still running a few tests," he sighed. "Might be another hour or more."

You nodded, "Gimme another few minutes and I'll be done."

"No, you won't," he chuckled. "Lemme help."

"Wanna dry?"

"Got me doin' dishes again, huh?" He smirked.

You matched it, "Take you back to the good ol' days?"

Carmy nodded, and for a few minutes, you worked in silence. It went smoother with help: you washing, him drying. When all was washed, you drained the sink with the garbage disposal, washed the basin out, and then started cleaning off the counters, stove, microwave, and any other appliance or surface Donna might've splattered on. Carmy noticed your system of dishes and did his best to match it, then mopping up the floor.

When you were both done, it was well past midnight and your adrenaline was waning. You eyed your boyfriend for a long moment, slowly approaching him after drying your hands; mimicking him from earlier and wrapping your arms around his middle. You felt Carmy give a long sigh, dropping one of his hands to hold yours on his stomach. "I love you," you reminded softly.

Carmy turned slowly, facing you with a soft, ginger expression. Both his hands rose to ghost over your cheeks, whispering, "I'm so fucking in-love with you."

Your smile was easy, "Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

He smirked, placing his forehead to yours. "Things got a little crazy," he whispered, "but I'm really glad you were here with me."

"I promise you, Carmy, I don't want to be anywhere else."

He sighed, pulling away to admire you for a long moment. "Even when Ma attacks you outta nowhere?"

"Even then," you promised softly. "Carmy, you forget, I had a mother very similar. Our relationship won't ever be the same, but the times I was around her, it taught me to walk on eggshells around someone. You're not alone in this and I promise, it doesn't scare me."

"Scares me..."

You nodded, stepping into his embrace, "I know, baby, I know. I'm so sorry. It'll get better, y-you'll find ways to deal with it all. Okay? I'm here with you."

His arms tightened, muttering, "Don't leave me, too."

"Not even if you beat me off with a stick," you teased. "Do you wanna go to bed, Cream?"

"Please," he groaned.

"You go up, I'll be there soon."

"You're not comin' up with me?"

"I think someone should be up when they get home."

Carmy sighed, "Probably..."

"Go to sleep," you encouraged, "I'll be up when they get in. I'll make sure Donna gets to bed, all right?"

"Nah, nah, I'll wait with you. Lemme grab some pillows and shit for us."

You didn't stop him, knowing you couldn't even if you tried. So after doing one last loop around the house, cleaning whatever needed it, you met Carmy in the second sitting room (the one Donna didn't drive into). He had a couple of pillows down and a comforter, changed into a pair of sweatpants and a muscle tank top. "Give me a minute to get changed," you whispered against his lips, hearing him hum in agreement.

You brought an overnight bag in case you were too tired to drive, now grateful for being "over prepared".

When you were matching in loungewear, you crashed on the couch with Carmy under a cushioned blanket. He was laid down the expense of the couch, you nestled between him and the back cushions. "How'd you do it?" He mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"Deal with your ma?"

"Put a lot of distance between us, enforced boundaries even if it made me the bad guy. Started therapy, read a lor of self-help books. All in all, I learned she was abusive in a different way and it affects me and all my relationships."

He sighed, "Think i gotta do the same."

"What's that?"

"Create distance... Think New York's far enough?"

"It'll have to be," you mused, snuggling close as Carmy picked up with phone. He mindlessly scrolled through his social media, you watching; the exhaustion catching up to you both, making you start to doze, but abruptly woke up when the front door burst open.

"I got her," Mikey waved you both off as you tried to yank off the tangle of blanket, assisting his drugged-up mother to her room after kicking the door shut.

When he returned, you and Carmy were sat up in interest. He sighed and tapped a cigarette from the carton, telling you both, "She's okay, minor concussion and shit... Nothing we can't handle, right? I'll be back." He excused himself out the front door.

You spared Carmy a look, frowning when those wide, baby blues locked with yours. "She's okay," you reminded softly, "and I'm here with you." You saw the fear flash in his eyes. "Carmy, you're not like anyone in your family - you're not like anyone I've ever known. You won't end up like them, you're not gonna slip off the deep end 'cause of their curse. It's sink or swim, and fuck's sake, I've got an extra life preserver, okay?"

He smirked, "What would I do without you or your analogies?"

"Get really boring advice," you teased, letting him kiss you. When you pulled back, you whispered, "She won't ruin you. I won't let anything tear you down."

He paused for a long while, nodding, "Think we should go to New York, then."

"I think so, too. You can't linger here, Carmy, or else you're going down with them all and I can't do anything to help. If we stay here, Cream, I'm afraid for what it'll do to us, and if you stay with your family, there's no telling what they'll do or make you feel." You told him softly, "Don't let them step in the way of what you want, Carmy. Don't let them dictate your life anymore than they do. You deserve a life, you deserve to live away from this toxic bullshit - to truly find and establish yourself without their extra dead weight."

He nodded sadly, wiping a hand down his face.

His eyes bulged naturally, and now, you could see clearly the red tinge from repressed tears and the swollen, blotchy skin from him rubbing so frequently.

"Carmy?" You waited until his eyes met yours. "Just because they're your family doesn't mean you're gonna end up like them. You're aware of the stress, turmoil, and abuse that's generated, and with this knowledge comes the ability to break cycles. Baby," you whispered, resting your foreheads together, "you are not the same, you can always choose to do better... To be better... To recognize slippery slopes and pull yourself back. They're your blood, yes, but that doesn't automatically mean you guys are the same now - or that you'll become like them in the future. You're different, Carmy... You're so different, you're going to do amazing things - they'll all see. And one day, I'll tell you, 'Told you so,' but it can all start today, if you want."

"You're right," he agreed, sighing deeply as he pulled away from you. "I do want that - I want us to get away and go live. We'll go..." He nodded in assurance, sniffling before pecking your forehead, "We'll go to New York and get the fuck away from this bullshit. It's not healthy, can't sustain ourselves here."

"For the time being," you corrected, "because never say never when thinking of returning home. But we've still got a lot of life to live before we settle down, right?"

"Right," he whispered, staring at you like you hung the moon and stars. "What would I do without you, Peach?"

"I imagine you'd be bored as hell," you teased, pecking his lips.

When Mikey returned, he found Carmy sprawled out on the couch with his arms tightly caging you to his chest; both looking utterly exhausted from the hectic holiday. He almost felt guilt for the rush to his blood from the drugs he used outside, knowing neither of you would be proud of him, and seeing you both look so at-peace solidified in his mind that he wouldn't burden either of you with his woes. So he vacated the front lobby just as your head lifted in confusion - feeling as if you had been watched and waking up.

However, when your burning-for-sleep eyes didn't see anyone, you settled back against Carmy.

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[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 5

chapter 4 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 6

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after what happened a couple of months ago, you are ready to move forward. joel? not so much. he might need a little... prodding.

warnings: 18+, mdni. internal and verbal discussions of feelings, trauma and past relationships. some jealousy (if you squint very hard). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). again, absolutely filthy smut because i don’t know any better (sorry not sorry). fluff. voyeurism (you spy on joel). masturbation (f and m). oral (f and m receiving). finger sucking. unprotected piv. praise kink. sir kink. size kink. cum eating. a bit of cum play. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. dirty talk. you are very needy in this one and joel is very possessive over you. soft!dom!joel. aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, honey). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

a/n: hiya! first i want to thank you all for the positive feedback this series has gotten! [: i started writing this for myself mainly, and decided to post it here thinking that if a couple of people liked it, it'd make my heart happy. also, i have taken some licenses with joel's past, as neither the game nor the tv show gives many details (you'll understand what i mean). anyways! after the last chapter, our two protagonists (you!) deserve a bit of calm, peace and quiet... right? 😈 as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests/side stories if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

w/c: ~6.3k (sorry?).

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

August came around relatively quickly. Tommy had proposed you got closer to civilisation, which meant long trekking trips while the sunlight was still up. Joel agreed reluctantly, as he still thought that was dangerous. You just went along with it, letting them decide ― you didn’t really care where you ended up as long as the Millers were by your side.

Well, one of them especially.

At daytime you barely had time to yourself. However, the story was completely different at nighttime. The second you closed your eyes, snippets of what had happened two months ago flooded your memory. For the first few weeks, the nightmares were unbearable. You would wake up in the dead of night, sweaty and shaking.

And every time you woke up, Joel was by your side. He would hug you while you both laid on improvised beds, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neither of you would talk, you would just cry in silence while your panic attack subsided ― Joel holding you throughout the whole episode. He had truly been a rock you could hold onto in the middle of a sea storm.

It got to the point where Tommy had started to realise that something was up between you two. Neither you nor Joel denied nor confirmed anything, although Tommy never asked. He would just look away when his brother would attend to you if you fell behind or would offer to do the first night shifts so Joel could be by your side at bedtime.

You were somewhat sure that Joel really cared about you. The way he would look at you… it sent shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotising ― sometimes you would find yourself lost in his brown orbs, unable to look away. You also really cared about him.

You didn’t want to put a label to your feelings, mainly because you were not sure how Joel would react. You had come to understand that the man was prone to evade any topic about his feelings in general ― physical, emotional or otherwise. You could still not get him to tell you whenever he felt off. Since the blow to his head a couple of months back, Joel had been suffering with horrible headaches, to the point where he had fainted in a couple of instances.

The man was such a closed book you found out about his deceased wife the same way you knew about Sarah ― through Tommy. You assumed he had one or at least a partner at some point in time before the outbreak. The younger brother didn’t give you many details though, not that you asked either ― some wounds were better left untouched.

You liked Tommy a lot. He was a godsend ― so very different to Joel, but so similar in many ways. He was talkative and filled in long silences with stories about how they would cause mayhem at home when they were kids. You didn’t know if they were true or not, but they were entertaining nonetheless. You were under the impression that Tommy was the one who got into sticky situations and Joel was the one who had to fix them.

“I’m gonna go to the lake for a bit”, Joel told you, derailing your train of thought.

“No worries, I’ll get the fire going. Poor Tommy is always the one setting up camp”, you replied with a slight smile.

“Yeah, poor me, relegated to such unsignificant tasks”, said Tommy with a chuckle.

You smiled back and then looked in Joel’s direction. He was frowning at both of you, but quickly controlled his face expression.

“I’ll be back soon”, Joel crouched to look through his backpack, grabbing a couple of towels.

Something inside of you twisted. But you pushed the thought to the back of your head. You had already volunteered to start the fire.

You really tried to focus on the bonfire. And after a few attempts, you finally got it going. Joel had not come back yet from the lake ― it had only been ten minutes, but you were slightly worried in case he had lost consciousness again while no one was around.

“I’ll go check on him”, you told Tommy.

He looked at you with a sarcastic smile.

“Sure thing”, he replied while he started to skin a rabbit.

You rolled your eyes before you left in the direction Joel had gone.

You walked the hundred metres that separated the camp and the lake. The brothers had ensured the area was completely devoid of human existence before they decided to settle there for the night. You were now in Mark Twain National Forest, near St. Louis. You had checked out Kansas City a week ago, but both Tommy and Joel had deemed it too unsafe. So Chicago was your final destination. None of you knew what you would encounter there, but it was worth a try. The wilderness had not proven to be any safer.

Before you got to the bank of the lake, you spotted Joel in the water. He had his back towards you, your eager eyes checking out his broad shoulders, the water level up to his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

You stopped walking, somewhat mesmerised, your head slightly tilted to one side with curiosity. In the last two months, you had discovered a new side to Joel you didn’t know he had.

You guessed that what happened that night also affected him in a different way it did you. After he almost decapitated that man, you saw guilt in his eyes when he looked at you ― you still sometimes caught a glimpse of it to this day. As you found out later, that culpability was because he felt responsible for what those men did to you ― he really thought he could have done more. And he did in a sense, because for the next couple of days he hunted down every man in that group until there was no one left to hurt you. Apparently, that was not enough in his eyes, although it was in yours. But as much as you tried to explain that to him, it just wouldn’t sink in. He was so stubborn it made you go crazy sometimes.

Although Joel had been there for you emotionally, he had not touched you for the last two months. You managed to steal a few kisses from him and that was it. He had been extremely cautious with you in that respect. You were relieved he was as you tried to come to terms with what had happened, but after a few weeks it started to feel… frustrating. You were not broken and despite what he thought, you still had needs.

He suddenly looked over his right shoulder, offering you his side profile ― to you, he was gorgeous. Feeling like a child caught causing mischief, you quickly hid behind a tree. Joel looked around, eyebrows touching in confusion, but then he shook his head as if he was imagining things and proceeded to cup his hands in the water to wet his face.

You couldn’t not watch. You instantly realised that was the first time you saw him naked. The last ―and, regrettably, the only― time you two had sex, he was fully clothed. There was something very intimate about seeing him washing up.

You were so transfixed on the picture in front of you it was like the world had disappeared around you. Joel rubbed his skin with a hand towel ― his strong arms, his chest, his back, his lower stomach… Your breath quickened a bit, your heart picking up a pace. Everything about him invited you in ― it wasn’t only his rugged appearance that appealed to you, but also his character.

You started to feel hot. Had the temperature suddenly gone up? It seemed like it. Joel put the hand towel on his left shoulder. When you saw his right hand disappear below the water in front of him, your mouth went dry wishing it was your hand. You wanted to help him clean his manhood so badly ― memories of his delightful cock rocking you into a trance short-circuited your brain.

Before you could stop yourself, you placed one hand on your belly, biting your bottom lip. You finally gave in to temptation, pushing past the edge of your panties. You dipped two fingers in your slit, doing circular movements around your clit. Your eyes, albeit halfway closed in pleasure, could not leave Joel as he kept on freshening up. You pushed down your fingers a bit more, sliding one of them in your needy hole.

You closed your eyes, a half-smile showing on the corner of your lips. That felt so good. If Joel was going to do nothing about it ― fine, you would. Still behind the tree, out of sight, you held on to the bark with your free hand, upping the rhythm of your wet fingers, your thumb rubbing that tight knot in your fold. Then you slightly opened your eyes again ― you wanted to stare at Joel while you came.

But he wasn’t there anymore. You frowned, confused, but you were too busy to worry about that right now. So you closed your eyes again to fully focus on the task at hand. You leaned your forehead against the tree, feeling your orgasm wash over you with intensity. You pressed your lips, suppressing a moan as to not alert Joel of your presence.

“Am I interrupting?”, his soft voice forced you to glance in his direction with starry eyes.

He was on your righthand side, just half a metre away from you. Entirely naked in all his glory, an erection creeping up on him. You were speechless, partially because you had been caught spying on him and partially because you were still feeling the last remnants of your climax, your inner walls crying for something to choke.

“I―I…”, you really tried to excuse yourself, but your voice faltered when your eyes checked him out from top to bottom.

His body was chiselled, his muscles somewhat defined, especially around his waist. He had a pronounced V line with a hairy, happy trail which you avidly followed with your eyes until you were gifted with the sight of his veiny cock. You unconsciously licked your bottom lip.

Your fingers were still dunked in your warm pussy. Joel grabbed your wrist and took your hand out of your underwear, raising it to eye level. Your digits were sticky, covered in your own cum. You should feel ashamed, but you definitely didn’t. Not with him. Joel looked into your eyes, and, without breaking visual contact, he brought your slick fingers closer to his face. With no hesitation, he opened his mouth and pushed them into it, licking them clean. You felt your cunt gushing, eyelids half closed. You could have easily come again for him, but he released your fingers far too quickly for your liking.

“You naughty girl”, he whispered as he pulled you from the wrist to get you closer to his chest. “You taste even better than what I imagined”.

“I didn’t think you were…”

“Aware of your presence? Always, darlin’”, he finished for you.

Your cheeks blushed when he freed your wrist and lifted your chin up. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, his mouth just an inch away from yours. You bowed to kiss him, but he backed up a little, denying you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”, he asked, you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You nodded vehemently.

“Yes, please, Joel, I really need to feel you, to have you fuck me senseless”, you emphasized, short-breathed.

He seemed to consider your words for longer than what was acceptable. You saw his eyes flying between yours and your lips.

“Please?”, you begged.

Your prayers might have been heard, because he leaned forward, brushing your mouth with his.

“Then go down on your knees, darlin’”, he whispered against your lips.

You silently gasped as your clit pulsed at his words. You were delighted to follow his command, and so you kneeled compliantly.

When your knees touched the grass, his cock was at eye level. You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. His dick was as big as you remembered, the memory of it filling you up still haunted you. It was so erected now that the tip touched his belly button. Joel looked so strained you thought he had to be in pain. And you were more than willing to help him alleviate it.

You moved your hand forward, but before you could try to wrap your fingers around him, Joel stopped you.

“No, with your mouth”, was his order.

You intertwined your fingers on your lower back and inclined your heard towards him. You gazed up at him, his jawline very tense. You let your tongue out and shyly tapped his glans with the tip. Joel closed his eyes immediately and grumbled loudly as his cock twitched in front of you.

That was all you needed to spur you on. You widely opened your mouth to house his manhood and sealed your lips around the head, the tip of your tongue trying to push open the slit on his foreskin. You played with him for a bit while your jaw relaxed. Then you started to push him in further and further down your mouth, as far as you could take him. His glans pushed past your uvula, you could barely breathe, just as you had imagined a few months ago ― a dream come true. You bobbed your head back and forth, feeling him in your throat, your eyes watering. But you were still not close to have his dick entirely in your mouth ― he was so damn big.

Joel growled in ecstasy as he looked down to you. The sight of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed, bright beautiful eyes, your tongue maliciously inciting him… He just couldn’t believe how giving you were.

“Look at you with your mouth so full”, he said placing one of his hands under your chin. He could feel his own cock expanding your throat. “You look so damn pretty, baby”.

You leaned back a bit, releasing most of his erection except for the tip. With the help of one hand you started pumping his shaft, the other gently massaging his balls. Joel eyed you intensely while you ate him up like a lollypop. His salty flavour inundated all your senses, your eyes pinned on his.

His fingers clenched in frustration.

“Shit, stop, I’m gonna come”, he mumbled as he pushed back to free his dick from your wicked lips.

No way in hell, you thought. He was not about to deny you that. You had been thinking about this moment for fucking months, you wouldn’t let him take that pleasure away from you.

You grasped him by his ass, your palms firmly pressing on his buttocks to take his cock even deeper. You then gave him head as best as you knew how, fastening the rhythm when you felt the pulsation coming from him.

“Fuck, baby―”, he moaned your name as he came in your hot, wet cavity.

You felt his spent hit the back of your throat. It was so tangy and musky. You swallowed all of it. Ah, delicious, you thought gleefully. You let go of his ass and released his dick from the prison of your lips.

You placed the palms of your hands on your knees, still on the ground, and glanced up at him innocently with a sweet smile painting your face. You then opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show Joel you had eaten all his cum ― a bridge of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to his glans.

He dropped one hand to break off the arch of saliva between you and him with his index, and fed it to you ― you gladly accepted, sucking his finger clean.

“Did I do good, sir?”, you asked with a small voice, looking for praise.

“Good? You did fucking splendid, sweetheart”, you beamed with the compliment and got up to your feet when he offered you a hand.

He took your hand, walking behind him as he headed towards the lake. He turned around to face you and kissed you slowly, his tongue caressing your palate. He then took a step back. The sun was setting on his back, the orange and red lighting reflecting off the waterbed. His brown eyes, bearded jaw, hooked nose, his hair curling at the nape of his neck… He looked like a roman God ― Mars, you thought. Joel looked like a man about to fight for his life and yours on the battlefield.

He sat down on a massive flat rock one metre away from the bank of the lake, which was approximately two metres wide in both directions.

“Now undress for me, baby”, he instructed.

You did not hesitate ― all your clothing fell to your feet, piece by piece, while Joel eagerly watched the show you put on. He wetted his bottom lip while he readjusted his cock on his lap. You stood there with dreamy eyes, awaiting. He motioned one hand towards the rock he was sat on, an invitation for you to join him.

Once you were sat on his right, he placed his left hand around the front of your neck ― a very slight touch that forced you to flatten your back against the rock while he positioned himself on top of you. He bit your chin while his left hand put a sweet amount of pressure on your throat. You could tell he was controlling himself.

“My turn”, he whispered, coming off you.

He got off the rock, kneeling on the ground in front of you. You put your elbows down on the rock to lift your torso and be able to look at him, your knees bent, the sole of your feet against the cold surface of the rocky platform. Joel grabbed you by the hips and scooted your ass over to the edge of the rock. Your legs were firmly pressed against each other, trying to hide your quivering cunt ― suddenly you felt shy.

“Spread your legs open for me, darlin’, lemme see”, he commended you with his hands on your knees.

You couldn’t say no to him, you didn’t want to. So you obeyed, dropping your legs to the sides, offering him your dripping fold. He traced your slit with his index, and you moaned.

“You’re so fucking wet already. So receptive, aren’t you?”, he asked looking at you dead in the eye, his finger sinking in between your legs, looking for the entrance. “Who gets your pussy so wet?”, he pushed his fingertip in your hole, and you groaned loudly. “Who, darlin’? Use your words”.

“You, only you, sir”, you gasped.

“This is mine”. He pushed in the second phalange.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing.

“All yours, yes”.

His finger got completely sucked in down to his knuckle, stroking your g-spot. You harshly pressed your lips.

“Exactly, don’t you dare forget that”, his tone was so serious you looked at him enigmatically, not really understanding where that sudden possessiveness came from, but you loved every bit of it. And you were more than happy to put his doubts to rest.

You nodded frantically.

“I would never, sir, I swear my pussy is all yours”, you really meant it.

“As it should be”, he added a second finger as he leaned forward and kissed your mound.

You sighed, eyes teary, and flattened your back against the rock again, as Joel made out with the fatty skin above your clit. He introduced a third finger, all of them rubbing your anterior wall. Then his mouth dropped and sucked in your clit. Your knees trembled while you held both of your breasts, playing with your nipples and biting down your lip to stop your wanton screams. He insisted with his kissing until your wet cunt started fluttering around his fingers, a clear tell you were about to come. He stroked your clit with his teeth, very lightly, sending shivers up your spine. Your legs pressed against his head, tension building up. And then, finally, sweet release. You came so hard on his mouth, and he drank it all.

He unburied his head from in between your legs and glanced at you with a sufficient smile.

“You taste even better directly from your creamy cunt, baby”, you were glad he was so talkative during sex, especially if it was to praise you.

Joel placed the palm of his hand over your mound, his fingers covering your damp pussy, and rubbed with just the right amount of friction. You exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna make you come again”, he promised.

You pursed your lips, your cunt palpitating at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I can―”, you uttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was offended. Joel grabbed your thighs and pulled towards him; the back of your knees placed on his shoulders.

“Don’t doubt me, of course you can. I said I’ll make you”, his mouth was so close to your moist pussy you felt his cool breath on your damp skin.

You whimpered when his tongue swept your entire slit unhurriedly, from your perineum to your clit, his hand climbing up your body to squeeze one of your breasts firmly. Joel repeated that move a few times ― and your brain chemistry would be changed forever after that. He briefly pinched your nipple while he paid special attention to the core of your pleasure. Joel smothered your clit with his lips ― you closed your eyes while placing a hand over his on your boob.

Joel’s tongue stopped torturing you for a second. He nudged your clit with the tip of his hooked nose and then inhaled your sweet smell. That scent was making him go wild with lust to the point where he started fisting his cock, the tip already leaking with precum. He flattened his tongue against your swollen lips, wiggling it through the slit to touch your needy hole. He could not believe you were this wet for him ― if he had the chance, he would drink from your seeping fold every single day. This was how ambrosia tasted like ― he was damn sure of it.

He placed his hands to each side of your puffy flaps to spread your pussy open, while the tip of his tongue slipped inside of you. Your free hand flew to his head, fisting a handful of hair. Your toes clenched as he started to fuck your hole with his tongue. You felt your whole uterus contracting so hard it was almost painful. Your cum started to ooze out as a new orgasm hit you with full force, yelling his name. Joel did not waste any of it, licking it off you shamelessly.

What just happened ― that felt like sin, the most beautiful sin you had ever experienced. Your breathing was so irregular you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then you heard Joel snickering as he got back up to his feet.

“See? Told ya”, he said smugly as you placed the elbows on the rock to lift your chest and glance at him.

He was jerking off, his cock ready for you again. You sat back up and leaned forward, your hands on his muscular thighs as you kissed the slippery tip, the shaft, then his balls. You showered pecks all over his manhood, worshipping it.

“S-sorry, sir, can I ask? Is your cock only mine? P-please?”, you asked in between smooches, almost panting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Joel’s irises were swirling with desire, his hips slightly slanted forward towards your mouth, his dick visibly spasming while he caressed your cheek.

“All yours, yes”, he replicated your exact words, your heart fluttering with contempt.

You smiled at him before licking his testicles again ― your hand pushing his shaft against his lower belly to give you better access. Your eyes never abandoned his as your saliva covered his soft ball sacks.

This time he did step back, and you let him.

“I need you inside me, please”, you murmured.

His jaw was so tight he didn’t dare to speak. Joel could feel his heartbeat on his cock, all because of you and your wanton mouth. You looked so damn beautiful ― on your knees, staring at him through your eyelashes, patiently waiting. He knew you very well by now, fully conscious that as sweet as you were acting now, that was it ― an act. And he loved every bit of it. He liked the way you replied to him when sex wasn’t involved, taking no shit from anyone, your snarky remarks driving him crazy.

Joel sat down on the rock and motioned for you to join him on his lap. You joyfully obliged, sitting atop of him. Your knees to each side of his waist, your bust against his, skin to skin. Your nipples grazed his chest, becoming harder at the electric contact. He cupped both of your boobs and pushed them up, so he could kiss them tenderly. You sighed, your mouth against his ear. Still holding your breasts, he unattached his lips from your nipples to peck your chin.

“Fuck me, darlin’”.

You looked down between you two. His erection was so prominent you knew it was hurting him. And you could ease that pain for him. Heaving, you lifted your hips up and grabbed his dick. It was hard but soft at the same time, velvety, very warm and beating. So sensitive to the touch he groaned ― music to your ears. You hugged his neck with your free arm as you guided his tip to your leaking entrance.

With a sudden drop of your hips, you impaled yourself harshly ― his bollocks kissing your tumid lips. You circled your hips against his, very slowly, which made you both moan in unison. Then you raised your body, his cock slipping out completely. Holding him from the base, you came down on him sharply again.

Joel was close to losing his mind. If you did that one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer. You seemed to understand that, because you started to rock your hips back and forth, up and down. He kneaded your ass, feeling your rhythm, spurring you on. His fingers squeezed the skin under them while he kissed your collarbone. His mind was completely blank ― he could only focus on your sweet pussy hugging him, choking him. His dick felt so wet, so hot, throbbing for release… You kept on riding him, your movements growing erratic as you both were close to climax.

You surrounded Joel’s neck with both arms, pressing your breasts against his handsome face, your hips flushed with his, as your cunt angrily convulsed around his erection in blissful liberation. Joel held it together while you recovered, his hands still on your ass cheeks, fingers so clutched they were close to dislocating.

“Baby, if you don’t get off, I’m―”, pain smeared his tone. He was really fighting for his life right there and then.

“Oh, sorry”, you said with a small voice, still feeling your own pleasure. You elevated your hips, so his manhood popped out with a squelching sound.

You were not going to leave him hanging, obviously. So you kneeled before him, in between his strong legs, and kissed his tip. Joel sighed loudly when you closed off your lips around him for the second time today and pumped his shaft fast and strong, milking him dry. A minute later, your throat was clogged with his spent. A drop of it trickled down the corner of your mouth.

Joel leaned forward and caught the cum off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before rubbing it on your lips. Then he kissed you wetly, devouring you. He could never have enough of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you whispered with a smile when he was done assaulting your mouth.

He just smiled back. A genuine smile, the first you had seen from him. It tugged at your heart a little.

You were still feeling restless. Although you had orgasmed four times already, your pussy lips were so inflamed you thought you were on your way down to hell. Still on your knees in front of him, you softly massaged your sensitive clit. It was burning ― you suppressed a sob as you glanced up at him, lips slightly parted.

“What is it? Is your tight pussy still gushing, sweetheart?”, he asked you, cupping your chin.

You nodded, tears of frustration blurring your vision.

“I need more, I can’t ― my pussy is on fire, sir”, you muttered, feeling sorry for yourself. You were in a heightened state of sensory overload.

“Let me help you with that then”, you almost cried of relief at his words.

You quickly got up and kneeled on top of his lap again. He slipped a hand in between your bodies to caress your core. Your flesh trembled at the touch. Suddenly you realised you desperately needed to find your own rhythm ― you didn’t have to communicate it, Joel understood it in a second. He stopped and let you do what you had to do. You placed the palm of your hands on his shoulders and started rubbing your pussy against the side of his still hand. You slid your cunt further up to his elbow, and then returned back to his wrist. Your clit greedily welcomed the tingling sensation of the hair on his forearm against your wet slit.

You kept on rocking your hips back and forth on his forearm, pressing hard against it, sliding, rubbing and causing as much friction as you could, the heat in your belly flowing down to your crotch. You buried your fingers in his wet hair and tilted his head backwards so you could rest your forehead against his. Your inner walls contracted extremely hard and then you let go, squirting plentifully for a few never-ending seconds on Joel’s forearm. Your overstimulated cunt was leaking on top of him as if someone had opened the tap of your pleasure and couldn’t close it. When the last wave of your climax abandoned you, you looked down to see how it all trickled down from his forearm onto his lap.

You closed your eyes, content, when he gently tapped your pussy a few times. You breathed in deeply, feeling completely satisfied, finally at peace. Then you pecked his lips with gratitude.

“Better now, baby?”.

“Yes, infinitely better. I―I’m sorry I made a mess”.

“Don’t you apologise for that”.

You both remained in that position for a few minutes ― his now relaxed, wet cock warmly lodged between the flaps of your still dribbling cunt. He hugged your waist to bring you closer to him, his mouth brushing yours in a moment of calmness you had not experienced with him yet.

When his lips released yours, you placed your cheek against his right shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on it. Silence ensued, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

As much as you fought against yourself, you had feelings for Joel. Although you probably didn’t know all his faces, you knew enough about him to love him. The way he would have you on your tiptoes with his sarcastic comments, his bluntness, his rudeness, the way he would snap back at you when you pressed his buttons ― but also his kindness, his caring side, his softness, how he worried about you making sure you were okay, his demanding sexual needs, the way he made you feel when his hands mapped out your skin.

But you were not sure what he thought about all of this. In some respects, his mind was inscrutable. It was part of his charming personality, you guessed. You kissed the scar on his shoulder as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love how you smell”, he murmured.

“Is that the only thing you love about me?”, you couldn’t resist, the words just slipped out of your mouth. You wished you could take them back, but it was too late for that.

Joel slightly froze in place at your question. He couldn’t deny that he had started to develop feelings for you. The way you looked at him made him want to be a better person. Although you drove him crazy sometimes, you made his days bearable, a shining beautiful light amongst so much darkness. You were his lighthouse, guiding him to shore. He just needed to learn how to surf through the violent waves before he could safely approach the coast.

Knowing how close he had been to losing you had opened his eyes to a new, unknown reality. He would literally kill for you if he had to ― he had already done it and would do it all over again without blinking. No regrets whatsoever.

But he had some unresolved trust issues when it came to romantic relationships. Joel married Sarah’s mother, Charlotte, when they were both twenty-one years old, as soon as they knew they were expecting. The first two years were very hard on them both, parenthood was not a piece of cake. Resentment had grown between them, to the point where Charlotte had accused him of robbing her of her fun years, which led her to cheat on him. They tried to salvage their marriage for the sake of Sarah, but they never did ― Charlotte died in a car accident while on a heated, angry phone call with Joel.

He locked away those thoughts ― it wasn’t the time nor the place to dwell on the past. Not when he had you with him.

“I… well, no. I love everything about you, sweetheart”, he conceded.

Your heart skipped a beat with joy. No, it wasn’t a love confession, but it was much more than what you were expecting of him. You turned your face against his neck and placed a kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“C’mon, let’s freshen up, I want to clean my mess off you, I do feel a bit bad”, you said with a chuckle.

You got off his lap, the cool breeze touching your sweaty skin. You offered him a hand, which he took, standing up behind you. Without letting go of his fingers interlaced with yours, you guided him to the water. It was cold, but you ventured inside with Joel following you. When the level was up to your waist, you turned around in Joel’s embrace.

You proceeded to wash off your cum and his off his cock, his lap, his forearm. When you were done, he kissed the top of your head. His left hand did the same to you, his fingers caressing your pussy, cleaning the proof of your shared pleasure. He did so not in a sexual way, but in a caring, intimate way. A minute later, you both disappeared beneath the water to emerge a second later, to wash off all the sweat. You found yourself in his arms again, your cheek against his chest ― you could hear his heart beating loudly but steadily.

“Joel, I―”, you didn’t know where to start. There were thoughts you had been wanting to put into words for a while now. “What happened to me sucks and I still die a bit inside when the memories come back at night. But none of it was your fault, nor mine. I do not want those bastards to win, to ruin my life. And my life with you. And I know it will take time to heal that part of me, or maybe it will never heal, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I want you so badly, Joel, but what I do not want is you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not broken, I want to move forward, not get stuck in the past. Do you understand what I mean?”, you asked, your cheek still against his chest, looking up at him.

His eyes were focused on yours. His heart shrunk a bit, sharing your pain. If he could, he would take it away, all of it ― the fear, the panic attacks, the agony, the memories, the nightmares. But he couldn’t change the past. So, he nodded.

“I do, honey”, he whispered as he bowed down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, hugging each other in silence. Then Joel grumpily ended the embrace.

“We should get back, Tommy is going to kill us”.

You laughed because it was so true. You both got out of the lake, towelled down and got dressed. You started walking towards the campsite besides him ― your hand in his, fingers entangled. When you saw the tent and Tommy’s outline against the fire, you got ready to release his hand. But he didn’t let go when Tommy turned around to look at both of you.

You tried to hide a soft smile ― and failed.

The younger Miller noticed you holding hands but made no comment about it. But he did smile. A very wide smile.

“Well, about damn time, dinner is almost ready”, he said with amusement, pointing to the rabbit impaled with a stick roasting on top of the fire. “If you took any longer, the rabbit was going to come back to life and run away”.

“Always so theatrical, Tommy”, you chuckled.

[wheelerpilled]

'forced conformity is killing the kids'

Mike Wheeler ST5 Theory/analysis

So we've all seen the new BTS of Finn Wolfhard on the set of Stranger Things dropped and OH MY GOD. THE DUALITY FROM LAST SEASON.

I have to TRY write about it ATLEAST...because wow I have a lot of potential thoughts, sorry it's once again unstructured, messy, and repetitive but stay with me please!!!!!!!!!!

I've seen ALOT of people happy we're getting s1-2 Mike hair back but guys .....it's not a good thing!!!!!!!!!! Mike is going THROUGH IT.

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In Season 4 it's acknowledged that Mike is finally coming into his own a bit, Eddie says he was wearing 'whatever his mom bought him' when he first came to highschool, but in episode 1 when we see him for the first time in S4, he's clearly been influenced by Eddie and has figured out what style he likes and what he's interested in, he's in a DND club, he's comfortable being known as an uncool nerd, he's growing his hair out (yes I DO believe it's because he idolised Eddie, I have more to say about that in a second)

basically: his hair and his outfits, aswell as pretty much the way he acts in Hawkins (NOT California- he goes back to pretending to be something else) in S4 represents the ideology non-conformity and his sense freedom in this new persona

he doesn't feel lost in highschool anymore, he's doing what he likes with his friends (DnD) and he's proudly wearing his hellfire shirt around school/Hawkins, basically, he's accepting that it's okay to enjoy 'different' things that aren't considered the norm, and it makes him happy, he feels comfortable!

_____________________________________________

But now in Season 5, from the pictures we've seen, it looks like he's fully reverted back into his shell, I guess I understand why tbh I don't blame him:

he comes back to Hawkins after everything and everyone believes he's in a satanic cult- townspeople probably treat him badly and Jason's team mates probably blame Eddie and the rest of hellfire for Jason's 'disappearance' (death). They directly connect him with all the horrible things that have happened to Hawkins as of late

...which is probably what the BTS of them walking towards Mike are about, they probably keep harassing him no matter how he acts and Mike just wants them to leave him alone, let's face it:

High school has probably gone full circle back to middle school for Mike and he's getting bullied/mistreated again. So he feels his only option is to remove himself from Hellfire and become 'normal'.

Hellfire might maybe even be blamed for the gates being opened. Last we heard, the townspeople were hunting down Eddie and the rest of hellfire, and the graffiti on Eddie's grave in the S5 pics shows that he's still very much hated.

Mike probably got harassed by multiple people who don't believe Eddie's dead, or believe Mike was in on it and are out looking for him, or think Hellfire contributed to some satanic ritual causing the 'earthquake' and thus Mike is also a target and it's dangerous for him.

So I think part of the style change and haircut is due to THAT, he doesn't wear his hellfire shirt anymore because he doesn't want any affiliation with the club.

As Finn Wolfhard has said in previous interviews 'mikes just trying to act as normal as possible' so by seperating himself from Eddie/Hellfire and becoming more conventionally 'normal' he won't be treated like an outcast.

He won't be assaulted, bullied, blamed, or worse if he conforms. He has a greater chance of everything becoming better/easier while living in Hawkins if he does this, he might have even given up DnD aswell- so yeah he's gonna be pretty MISERABLE in season 5

___________________________________________

Alot of people wanted to see his reaction to Eddie's death, I think we'll definitely be seeing the lingering after effects of it, and alot of Mike's arc will kick off because of the aftermath of the vilification of Hellfire.

Only few people know that Eddie died to try protect Hawkins, Eddie was a role model for Dustin and Mike, but they're grieving him in COMPLETELY different ways

Dustin decides to honour him by taking up a similar style and proudly wearing his hellfire shirt, and is also probably trying to sway the town's opinion on Eddie and prove him innocent.

....But Mike seemingly decides that he DOESNT want to end up like Eddie anymore: dead and hated, known as a satanic freak.

Someone he idolised is now deceased, he doesn't know how to properly handle that fact, it's intimidating that someone he looked up to do much could be so hated, and in turn has caused the reaction from Mike that is basically 'if my idol is treated as such a horrible outcast, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps, where would that leave me?' he's feeling lost and hopeless, especially with the state Hawkins is in, so he probably decides the best thing to do is just blend in. Be normal.

It probably scares him that even merely his interest in DnD and all these other factors immediately make him a target, as far as townspeople believe- Mike is one of the kids who was close with a brutal serial killer, they probably think he's just as 'messed up as Eddie the freak was' for staying friends with someone who'd do such horrible things

I think Mike just wants to hide as much as he can right now, he has ALOT on his plate and doesn't need the rest of the town out to get him.

so if anyone asks: he'll probably say things like 'I didn't really know Eddie! I would never join a cult like that, I didn't know!' or something to try seperate his name from the hellfire club.

Mike will end up picking protecting himself and hiding his true identity and values/traits rather then living exposed and vulnerable; yet true to what he actually believes is right....And that is the opposite of what Dustin is doing,

Dustin is a proud hellfire member and friend of Eddie, he's picking what he thinks is right over self-preservation from the town, he's still wearing his battered shirt, now HE'S the one growing his hair out, he still adores Eddie and misses him (so does Mike probably, but he feels he CANT outwardly publicly show support or stand up for him)

I do wonder if this will cause some sort of tension between Dustin and Mike, because Dustin is doing the opposite and becoming more like Eddie instead of distancing himself from the hellfire name, he might feel betrayed that Mike 'gave up' on Hellfire, and maybe accuse him of not even caring about Eddie or his death?? Idk!!!!!!!!!! I feel like Dustin will also be going through it this season 😭😭😭

_____________________________________________

I do also think Mike will try to be clinging alot to El this season (I mean, before they inevitably break up which I believe will probably happen kinda early on if it actually happens at all)

this is also because just the idea of having a girlfriend corresponds to his idea of conformity and being 'normal'. He just wants to be a normal guy, his life is nothing out for the ordinary, he's not interested in satanic things like dnd and hellfire, he's just a normal person. A normal person who is PROBABLY a target of Vecna in season 5 😓

I believe his arc for this season will be trying to breakout of these notions of conformity in exchange for things he actually likes and is interested in, we saw him sort of branching out in season 4, but I think THIS time it's happening for real, and he'll end up fully embracing his own views and interests after some sort of emotional arc-which will also probably be part of the M*lev*n break up (not censored because I'm against them/hate them I just don't wanna clog the tag for others 😭😭) OR set off by the breakup

Throughout season 1 he was told he liked El, or others assumed it, so I think he assumed it aswell, they just never broke up because El ALSO thinks having a boyfriend is normal and expected, and because Mike was the boy she was closest to she assumed it was romantic feelings (and he kissed her in S1 which probably contributed to her assuming they were romantic feelings)

Alot of the people around her are also in relationships, and she watched alot of TV with happy romantic couples so she thinks it's more normal to HAVE a boyfriend then to NOT have one, I think Mike and El kinda stayed together because they think they're SUPPOSED to by these social standards,

They obviously care about each other alot, and mistook it as reasons to just stay together, she wants to be a normal girl because only being a superhero isnt good for her, she needs to be 'Jane Hopper' and not '011'. I do think she definitely needs to be single for awhile and find herself, even if her and Mike are to be endgame, she NEEDS at least some time to gain some experiences outside of living her life as a superhero, (Mike also needs character development outside of being 'Els Boyfriend's)

Which is why it was vital that her time with max in S3 existed, so El could realise her value and that there is a life outside having a boyfriend- I think Mike needs a similar moment aswell, a wake-up call of sorts where he can take a step back and consider maybe rather than letting society dictate his actions, he makes decisions for what he wants for himself ('we make our own rules')

_____________________________________________

If m*lev*n is endgame then sure that's great for them, but I genuinely don't know what big character arc could be in store for Mike that doesn't involve a breakup and themes of non-conforming, it doesn't even have to involve Byler endgame at all (although I AM a byler truther)

I think Mike learning that it's okay to let go of that romantic relationship if he doesn't feel that way anymore is a big step for his character, or atleast taking a break so he can work on himself, anything along those lines of actual development on himself rather then on his relationship- El and Mike have been romantically paired from the start, he needs to learn that it's OKAY to breakup with someone if thats what he feels is right, (side note: I DO believe El would/will be the one to breakup with him 😭)

I don't think he realises that he'll be able to stay friends with El, it's not 'shes my girlfriend or else she'll hate me for breaking up with her. No other options'

he doesn't want to lose her because he cares about her but he can't find a way to balance that romantic relationship alongside his other friendships. So I think for his character to develop they have to breakup, even temporarily, but obviously that's only my opinion if M*lev*n is endgame then oh well, it's endgame, but I think they would be a really awesome platonic duo and I'd like their relationship alot more if it was that way

______________________________________________

I think later in the season he'll realise that living this way not actually what he wants, and he doesn't want to give up who he is, or pretend to be something he's not- because he IS a nerd who likes DnD, and he does support Eddie, he cared alot about him because he idolised him, and i think season 5 is about him learning that that's okay and he doesn't have to feel so much pressure to conform by societal standards, bro needs a better grief process, forced conformity GOT HIS ASS 😭😭😭

What I'm trying to say is: all of this, and his new look is a safety net of sorts, he's still pretending to be something he's not because he feels he HAS to, otherwise it's dangerous for him in Hawkins because of hellfires reputation, but he's also acting this way because of other factors that I haven't really thought through yet LMAO

I believe season 5 will probably be him accepting those things about himself and embracing it, maybe also undoing his emotional repression along the way, I guess I would describe it as coming of age and I think if it's handled well it could be really beautiful in a way

OH MY GOD I RAMBLED SO MUCH AND IT ISNT EVEN A SOLID THEORY JUST A COLLECTION OF THOUGHTS😭

Sorry that was long and repetitive but uhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah..........anyways Mike Wheeler ily keep ur head up king please don't die in S5‼️‼️ stay safe‼️‼️

[chaifootsteps]

I cannot STAND the idea that good intentions equates to capability, and that ESPECIALLY applies to parenting. I loathe how the Helluva fandom treats Stolas as a good father BECAUSE of his good intentions alone, not because of his actual capability to meet the expectations of a father. So, if you’ll permit me, I’ve decided that I’m gonna be reeeeeeal obnoxious for the next few asks by breaking down all provided CANON evidence in the Helluva Boss series on Stolas as a father to Octavia in the episodes where it is directly relevant. Also, as much as this is being driven by spite, I will genuinely try to be fair, and feel free to call me out on any missed moments or unfair assessments for each episode mentioned!

So, to begin, how is Stolas as a father to Octavia in Loo Loo Land?

Things he does right: 

In the past, he goes to Octavia when she cries out for her parents in the middle of the night.

He asks her what’s wrong directly, and validates her fear by directly calling her bad dream a nightmare. 

He does not bring attention to how late it is or that she woke him up, and takes the time to slowly calm her down again.

He reassures her that he will be present in her life, and sings her a comforting lullaby.

He tucks her back into bed and only leaves after he sees she has clearly fallen back asleep. 

In the present, he recognizes Via’s awake and asks her how she slept.

He tries to engage in her interests by asking what music she’s listening to.

He realizes parental arguments might be stressful and tries to remove Via from that situation.

He tries to spend alone time with his daughter at a place she used to really enjoy.

He recognizes that people of their status could be at risk and takes into account their physical wellbeing.

He tries to encourage Via to engage with her environment positively at Loo Loo Land.

He does not discuss the stressful home situation while they are walking around the park.

He goes after her when she runs off upset.

When he finds her, he removes his goofy hat to show he is taking the situation seriously, and opens conversation with a gentle tone and consideration of her being upset instead of anger/fear that she ran off.

He apologizes for taking her somewhere she didn’t want to go and apologizes for how complicated everything has been and how he hasn’t been listening to her. 

He apologizes for not being able to properly convey the complicated adult situations happening around her. 

He makes it clear that he will not abandon her and hugs her. 

He initiates their departure and validates that Loo Loo Land is not an appropriate place for her to be at her age or in her current emotional state.

He carries her out of the park while she is in a clearly emotionally vulnerable state and still needs his parental validation and support.

He focuses entirely on her as they are leaving the park instead of on the others or the actively burning attractions, which includes him proactively protecting the two of them from an attacker himself.

He tries to end the day positively by specifically asking her what she would like to do next and agrees to her suggestion.

He thanks her for her positive words and patience with him. Things he does wrong:

In the past, he does not reassure Via that her mother also cares about her and will be present in her life like him. Admittedly, Via’s use of “you” when explaining her bad dream COULD refer to Stolas specifically, but it could just as well refer to the plural “you” of both her parents, which could be supported by the fact she called out to both her parents after her nightmare. 

In the present, he did not pay any attention as her parent to the type of breakfast she prepared for herself when considering that she is still a minor, which seemed to consist of a cup of coffee and some fistfuls of cereal straight from the box. Ideally, he could have encouraged her to use a bowl and have some milk and water, or he could have offered to get those for her to alleviate any possible implication of him judging her meal. She is almost eighteen, so he should be trying to encourage her in little ways to be more proactive in how she feeds herself.

When she makes it clear that she heard him and Stella scream arguing and implies it negatively impacts her, he does not apologize for the fact she had to hear that or try to assure her that the situation is manageable as a parent. I cannot emphasize enough how damaging it is to children to experience loud, angry confrontations between their parents, and the fact she is more personally inconvenienced instead of scared/confused implies that she has witnessed many negative interactions between her parents.

When he tries to engage in her interests by asking about her music, he doesn’t try to elevate tensions by redirecting the conversation when her response leaves him feeling guilty. It might have been better for him to try and make the conversation less tense by asking her what genre it is or what other songs “Fuck You Dad” has made that she likes.

He lies about their day at Loo Loo Land being just the two of them by inviting IMP and flirting with Blitz throughout their time there.

He disregards Via’s extremely negative response to his suggestion that they go to Loo Loo Land.

He refers to staying at the house as a very negative situation. This is the house Via is supposed to feel at home in.

He makes EXTREMELY age, situation, and relationship inappropriate comments in front of his daughter while calling Blitz. I, similarly, cannot emphasize enough how disgusting his remarks around and about his daughter were, and that judgement would apply whether OR NOT she was a minor. 

He actively brings along an affair partner to his day at the park with Via and frequently flirts with him in front of her. 

He never denies or argues against Via’s observations of his and Blitz’s apparent sexual relationship including when she implies she does not enjoy knowing that they have a sexual relationship together. Remember, unhappy as he may be, he is still a married man who has brought along his affair partner while the daughter he had with the wife he is cheating on was with him.

Instead of asking about her negative view of Loo Loo Land or trying to encourage her to see the positive, he laughs off the awkwardness and changes the topic, pulling her away from the scene.

In the scene where we see Blitz’s bodyguard shenanigans, there is no visual or audio cue that Stolas is trying to have conversation with Via as they walk around the park.

When he is being surrounded by attackers, he does not attempt to warn Via or consider how she might feel about seeing that situation. After Blitz saves him, he doesn’t check on whether she was scared for upset by seeing that happen.

(Heads up, but any heavy bias in this next statement is because this is one of my most-hated scenes in the episode) While chasing after her into the Lucifer building, he willingly stops and POSTPONES FOLLOWING HIS EMOTIONALLY DISTRAUGHT DAUGHTER out of annoyance and confusion that Blitz has not personally dealt with the extremely minor inconvenience that is the latest attacker. After Millie saves him, he further delays going after his daughter by spending time asking Millie and Moxxie where Blitz is.

When Via explains her specific reasons as to why she didn’t enjoy coming to Loo Loo Land (her parents fighting and watching him flirt with his affair partner), he does not address each of the specific issues she brings up or apologize for his role in each of those specific issues.

By opening his attempted explanation of his and Stella’s marriage situation with “You need to understand-“, this insinuates that Via would be expected to be less bothered by the fighting and flirting if she knew that him and Stella were in an unhappy marriage, which can come across as invalidating the child’s negative feelings.

When Via expresses fear over him leaving her, he does not try and ask her why that was a worry of her’s and THEN reaffirm why she wouldn’t need to worry about it in the first place. And that’s it for Stolas as a father in Loo Loo Land! Feel free to tell me your thoughts and if you’d like to read my breakdowns of his good and bad from the other episodes!

Good breakdown! And keep in mind, this is probably the pinnacle of his parenting. It's all downhill from there.

[thebluemallet]

My Favorite Portia Featherington Moments

Throughout all three seasons of Bridgerton, Portia Featherington has been a complicated character. On the surface, she's completely unlikeable. She treats Penelope poorly. Her fashion sense is excessively gaudy. And she seems either unaware or willfully ignorant of the social faux pas she makes from day to day.

But she is also a survivor who was dealt a shit hand in life with her useless husband. And she did what she had to do to ensure the safety and well-being of her daughters in desperate times. So here are a few of my favorite Portia moments.

10- Showing Marina What Her Future Holds

When Portia finds out that Marina is pregnant, her first instinct is to protect her girls and her family's reputation. She wants to send Marina away and back to the country but she can't because of her useless husband's dealings. George hasn't answered Marina's letter telling him about her condition. Without knowing that George's fate has already been sealed, Marina's insistence that George will come for her seems naive--especially to Portia.

When Marina refuses to even entertain the idea of being married off quickly to an older man in need of an heir who won't ask too many questions, Portia, like the Ghost of Christmas Future, shows Marina what her life will be if she continues to hold out for George.

It's a much-needed wake-up call but it does not work on Marina. The forged letter may have seemed cruel at the time, but if I were in Portia's shoes, I would have assumed the worst of George, too.

9- Confronting Her Husband

When Lord Featherington puts a premature end to the courtship between Albion Finch and his middle daughter Philippa, Portia is outraged. A man has taken an interest in one of their daughters, seems besotted with her, and wants to marry her. What possible objections could there be?

When she tries to press him for answers in public, Lord Featherington uses his position as a man and a husband to silence her. But when Portia uncovers that he has gambled away all of their money--including their daughters' dowries--her husband is revealed for the sniveling coward that he is. Outside of the eyes of society, he is a weak man who can't curtail his vices even for the well-being and future of his family.

They may not like each other, but even Portia wasn't expecting this level of betrayal from her husband.

Cry those crocodile tears, Archibald! I don't feel sorry for you whatsoever. I'm Team Portia on this one.

8- "You find things to love, my dear."

Even a blind man could tell that Portia and Archibald were not a love match. She married him for security and he failed to even provide that. But she managed to find silver linings in the many clouds of her marriage.

Her talk with Marina in the final episode of season 1 gives the audience more insight into the kind of woman Portia is and how strong she had to be to endure her marriage with her late husband for so long. It's the kindest and most motherly we've seen her be all season. And her talk gives Marina the final push she needs to do what needs to be done to protect her babies.

Portia, as we'll see, is better off without her deadbeat husband. She has more strength than she gave herself credit for in this scene. And she has the three best things her husband gave her by her side.

7- "I am a MOTHER."

After the death of Archibald, the Featherington women are in financial stasis until the new Lord Featherington finally shows up. When Cousin Jack finally arrives some things are starting to look up. But he is making some questionable decisions right off the bat.

Portia is, once again, at the mercy of a Featherington man who makes piss-poor financial decisions when Cousin Jack comes into the picture.

She navigates the situation as best as she can, even getting into his fraudulent gemstone scheme when she's backed into a corner with no way out. Desperate times, desperate measures.

After Colin uncovers the scheme and Cousin Jack proposes not only running away from the country, but even leaving Prudence and Penelope behind and sending for them later, Portia has had enough. If you think this woman would ever seriously consider abandoning her daughters to save her own skin, then you don't know her at all.

Portia doesn't always make the right decisions. Portia doesn't always say the right things. Portia is far from a perfect mother. But she'll ALWAYS choose her daughters over mediocre men who only care for themselves, and for that, I'll love her forever for showing Cousin Jack the door.

6- Sex-Ed With Philippa and Prudence

The moment Philippa said that she and Albion were "very passionate" I KNEW that we were in for some comedic gold.

And I was RIGHT.

At first, Portia thinks her biggest problem with the Featherington Heir Race is Prudence. But at least she can relate to Prudence's problem of not enjoying the marital act. Poor Portia's not even aware that it can be enjoyable for both parties.

But to her horror, BOTH of her married daughters are the problem. Prudence isn't having sex because she doesn't like it and Philippa isn't having sex because she has no idea what it is.

You can see the wheels turning in both Prudence's and Portia's heads when Philippa asks that infamous question.

If Lady Featherington went home that night and screamed into her pillows, I wouldn't blame her.

5- Chaperoning Polin

Portia's finally realized that she's been a little lax with chaperoning Penelope over the years. No matter, she'll make up for it now and chaperone her daughter when her fiancee comes for a visit!

Colin and Penelope are just not used to having a chaperone and they have no idea how to conduct themselves with one in the room. Colin looks downright annoyed every time he sees Portia out of the corner of his eye. Penelope's staring at his lips the whole time and probably wants Colin to compromise her again right there on the window seat.

But the real comedy of this scene is knowing that Penelope is already pregnant. So the chaperoning was too little, too late.

4- Finally Bonding With Violet

For most of the series, Portia and Violet have gotten along like oil and water. They're not great friends like Penelope, Colin, and Eloise. They don't hang out at social events. Portia is envious of the Bridgertons and their social clout. Violet barely tolerates Portia on a good day. And as much as Violet loves Penelope, you can tell in 3x05 and 3x06 that she's not looking forward to having Portia as an in-law.

But when Colin and Penelope are on the outs just before their wedding, the two mothers have finally found some common ground.

3- Handling Lady Whistledown

I was not expecting Cressida to actually tell Portia that Penelope was Lady Whistledown. I thought she'd make a vague comment that Penelope would have to play off as nothing and then she would work with Colin and Eloise to overcome the Cressida threat.

But no, Cressida really tells Portia.

The threat of Cressida's blackmail hanging over her daughter's head and what this could mean for the Polin marriage is enough for Portia's protective mother instincts to kick in and she teams up with Colin and Eloise to find a solution and protect Penelope.

And she gets extra brownie points from me because one of her first reactions to learning about Whistledown is to point out that Penelope was the one to write horrible things about herself. ("The things you wrote! About your family! About yourself!")

Yes, Portia's angry about Penelope's secret and what she's done as Whistledown, but she puts that anger on the back burner for a short time while she tries to navigate her family through their latest crisis. To paraphrase what she said to Cousin Jack at the end of last season: she and Penelope are on the same team.

2- Portia and Penelope Finally Talk

Portia might have put her anger to the side when she found out about Whistledown, but it returns when Penelope finds out that Portia kept the money Cousin Jack had embezzled from the ton.

Portia and Penelope finally have it out and mother and daughter realize that they are more alike than they had previously realized or were even willing to admit.

1- Portia as a Grandmother

Portia started out the season anxious that none of her daughters would have a son and secure their family's future. By the end of the season, she's a grandmother to two granddaughters and one grandson--the new Lord Featherington. Her family's future is finally secure at last.

Now that she has her grandchildren, Portia will finally be able to relax a little. It must have been hard being in survival mode for so long. Now she can enjoy her life and watch all three of her daughters have marriages filled with love and happiness.

[randomfoggytiger]

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Weremonster), Part III

Here we go, first comedic episode of the Revival. 

…Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay…

Part I (My Struggle I) and Part II (Founder's Mutation).

Let's go!

MULDER AND SCULLY MEET THE WEREMONSTER

Why are we starting with adults huffing spray paint.

…Darin wrote two episodes with people getting high off of the strangest substances. 

And that’s not a lot, but it’s odd that it happened twice. 

Why do monsters always run towards the people or object or whatever they’re trying to scare or escape from? Like, what if he got surprise-shanked by two high, high school dropouts? (It’s not out of the realm of possibility.)  

No self-preservation instinct, tsk tsk. 

This dude’s okay, no that dude, woah that dude might not be okay. 

…Random paper bag for the high man to stress-blow into. 

Oh, look, a writer remembering the lore. 

How quaint. 

(Sidenote: Darin did not remember the lore, and kinda prided himself on not keeping up with all of it. But that won’t matter to me if he writes a good one-off.)

Mulder’s older now so he can’t stretch his neck to throw pencils at the ceiling. I guess. I suppose. I supposition. I presume.  

Kumail’s in this one? 

…’Kay. 

“Mulder?” Yay, that’s Scully-- “What are you doing to my poster?” And that’s Gillian. 

Mulder’s recounting all his failures in an upbeat, presentational way ‘cuz he’s wooing his girl. At least neither of them act like they’re on the precipice of death, that’s neato. 

Oh, look, Scully can smile. Remember how she did that twice in My Struggle I? Good times. 

Why’s her shirt look like it’s from Walmart?

Forgot this… pencil-scratch material was popular around the mid twenty-teens.

Can I forget it again…? …No? Do they leave it behind in Season 10? 

“--Going through these cases with fresh, if not wiser eyes.” Well, I don’t know about that. 

Also, is that a dig at his “wiseness” or a tongue-in-cheek joke at Mulder’s pat-on-the-back nature? (Lemme rewind.) Backpat coupled with epiphany. 

“Mulder? Have you been taking your meds?” 

…

….

…..

What, did they expect a laugh out of me? It just annoyed me because of the whole “Mulder’s depression” trauma I suffered for two episodes. 

But at least Darin’s trying to remind us that’s an on-going issue (despite CC implying it doesn’t bother Mulder anymore in My Struggle I and Morgan?-- or Wong-- reinforcing that idea in his “bitterly healed and chakras open” Founder’s Mutation ending.) 

Mulder’s a middle-aged man who just got back to the office and is wondering if anything he’s accomplished… well, if he’s accomplished anything. 

A valid question in these dark times. 

And by dark times, we all know what me and my chocolate-addled, My Struggle-PTSDed brain are referring to. 

Mulder certainly does:

“Maybe it’s time to put away childish things-- the Sasquatches, the Mothmen, and… Jackalopes.” 

Okay, well that’s rude-- I always wanted to see a jackalope case. 

Mulder spent one weekend not getting a community response to his latest fanfic and let the dark thoughts take over. 

All joke’s aside, this is an… it’s an okay scene. It’s weighty enough to be taken seriously, you feel for this clone of Mulder’s, you hope he gets his Mr. Incredibles act together--

Oh, wait, he already did by now. 

I guess. 

We skipped the traincar training montage while he was getting back into FBI ready shape. 

…

.....

.......

You’re welcome. 

On another aside, Skinner just pulled all the strings only for Mulder to have an identity crisis after one weirdo case. 

Man’s been carrying everyone on his back for decades with no rest and his newly recruited, depressed-but-not-depressed-depending-on-the-writer, domesticated-feral-animal agent might just trounce back out of the FBI and go wall up somewhere to mope. 

At least he’s not wandering off to take illegal substances to satisfy his curiosity. 

No. 

That’s saved for another episode. 

Scully brushes over Mulder’s confession to say, “we got another case, and this one’s ALSO got a monster in it.” 

And that makes him happy. 

Oooooooooooooooooooooooookay. 

*scribbling notes for later observation*

Darin has a favorite and that is OG Scully. And I will give it to him, she actually sounds happy for once. 

ALSO, I noticed your smoker voice is gone, GILLIAN, unless you’re mumbling or using The Sad Voice ™. I noticed. 

Scully’s insisting this is a monster case while Mulder mopes around the woods and says it’s a mountain lion. 

…I’m NOT gonna nitpick. I’m NOT-- OKAY, so, rewind time. 

Older Mulder-- as in the 90s Mulder-- would have at least been amused by Scully’s antics and followed her around for the fun of it, unless he felt used and abused, i.e. Host and Folie a Deux. Here is not the case. 

Further, he was intrigued in the basement but is now kind of… dismissive. 

Which is. It’s not a big problem, it doesn’t stand out, and it wouldn’t be something I’d clock except I’m very disgruntled and burned and grumpy about the past three days. 

However. 

Let’s continue. 

 Mulder’s Patriarchy Pants are making him do the Marilyn Monroe wiggle again. However, like a virus, middle-aged wedgie crotch has infected Scully, too; and the two of them are squeak-squonking ‘round the forest. 

They do say marriage slowly turns you into each other. 

Mulder sloughing off the naked guy in the crime scene pics as “Well, maybe he’s a nudist.” 

Darin. 

I know what you’re doing here. 

Give Mulder the doubting identity crisis and have his faith transformed. A reverse Clyde Bruckman, if you will. I get it. But you gotta admit, "a nudist" is a pretty weak rationalization, let alone a comeback. 

“That’s how I’d like to go out.” That saved it a little.

“The uniqueness of the wound, Mulder, implies a human element.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Scully, I gave up profiling before I gave up monsters.” WHAT? LAST WEEK?

YOUR CREDENTIALS AS A PROFILER GOT YOU HIRED BACK TO THE FBI--

Pause, pause, pause. 

He’s probably being tongue-in-cheek. He gave up monsters this morning and profiling last night. 

…If he’s not, what’s Mulder gonna do? Take up residence under Skinner’s desk? Have his bald benefactor feed him pencil shavings between meetings? 

“You seen one serial killer, you seen ‘em all.” Quite literally, no. 

I am. 

Puzzled. 

It’s not offensive-- WAIT, NO. I’m being emotionally manipulated by a softer Mulder and more upbeat Scully, youcan’ttakemealive--

“Mulder, I can see you’re going through a questioning phase of some sort--”

You don’t say. 

From bar to basement. From closet to forest. From Founder’s Mutation to… Weremonster Investigation.

Scully points out they need to help the victims.

Mulder: “Okay, well when you put it that way, Scully, but mark my words--”

I’m not getting the essence of Mulder here, gang. 

I got him for, like, three whiffs in My Struggle I and once at the end of Founder’s Mutation, but he’s MIA here so far. 

…Perhaps my “clone Mulder” crack in a previous paragraph kinds fits. 

Hmmm. If he continues to be Mulder-adjacent, I shall name him… I was gonna say ‘Charlie’, then remembered that’s Scully’s brother’s name. The CC name rot is infecting me. 

The streetwalker-on-crack scene was amusing, but not really funny. 

OH, MAN, JUST GOT JUMP-SCARED BY KUMAIL, OHMYWORD. 

Also, that was a weird cut-- Scully opens her mouth to say something, Mulder looks at her, CUT, Kumail face. 

The director was meaning to imply Mulder stopped Scully’s attempted defense with a look, but it only made it seem like one of them said something so cancellable the editors drop-kicked that bit from the final recording. 

I haven’t laughed once .

Welp, Kumail ran off after playing a scared animal control officer for three seconds. 

Pardon, but what was the purpose of that scene?

This kinda feels like a play: in this set piece, the hooker whacks a creature with a purse; in this set piece, Kumail gets spooked by the agents and runs off after hearing a roar; still in this set piece, Mulder whips out his phone and starts… hitting… the… picture… button. 

My thought process:

It's dark at night. 

2. I hear a ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR. 

3. I'm pulling out my gun, not my camera. 

You know why?

There are more tigers in North American than the world combined. 

Just sayin’. 

SCULLY, REINSTALL THE SAFETY FEATURE IN YOUR KEN, PLEASE. 

JUST. PUT. THE PHONE. ON. VIDEO. MODE. 

Oh, wait, he’s a tech goombus who doesn’t know how to take videos. 

THEY SAW A DEAD BODY--

…

THEY SAW A DEAD BODY THROUGH HIS PHOTOS INSTEAD OF NOTICING THE CORPSE RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM?

I’m not mad because this isn’t as mean-spirited as the previous two episodes, but that’s just. That’s just.  

That. 

Wait, how’d they get from Mulder’s camera setting to his photo collage, without swiping or going there or…? He was taking rapid-fire pictures, Scully looks over, says, “What’s that?”, and the camera cuts to a picture that has to be in the phone’s gallery. …What happened-- you know what? Never mind. 

Mulder runs off INTO THE DARK with ONLY HIS CAMERA OUT while Scully is yards behind him WITH THE GUN. 

Solid decision making there. 

My man, if this were a tiger (we’ve already seen it’s the horny Lizardman) or a cougar in heat (well, give Scully a few episodes), you’d probably be very dead. 

I’ve named Mulder-Clone: Ken. He’s cute, he’s having an identity crisis, and he’s as dumb as a rock. 

This fits unintentionally well with his Patriarchy Pants (though they’re wearing him, not of the other way around.) 

Kumail’s here and they both scared each other and now they’re hyper-Ken-focusing on Ken’s wonky phone app and stuff. 

Barbie-- clone Scully-- hears Ken and Kumail screaming their lungs out after getting jumped by Lizardman and only NOW notices Mulder had Marilyn Monroe shimmied off. 

Imagine if this were the end of Mulders career: questioning his life’s purpose, losing the battle to technology, and T-posing, dead, on the ground. 

Ken sounds completely fine when Scully runs up to him asking if he's okay. No wooziness. No nothing. (Kumail, too.)

“Okay. I quit.” Smarty Mr. K. over there (not Ken, but you knew that.)

Monster’s a-running, and Formerly-Mulder springs up and races off with Scully. 

What did that jumpscare accomplish, narratively? What did any of these jumpscares accomplish, narratively?

I know we’re only 10 minutes in, but it’s feeling a little too… scene-scene-scene-scene-scene, jumpscare-jumpscare-jumpscare, phone-phone-phone-phone-phone. T-pose. That was a shakeup, I guess. 

Ken was going to question the guy on the pot (who is, indeed, the Lizardman, btw) but notices Scully’s face and closes the door and walks away with her. 

Strangely, that and the basement are the only scenes, thus far, where Ken was most like Mulder. 

Scully, do you regret putting a battery pack in your Ken doll now?

This interaction is still Ken-not-Mulder, but Scully is kinda recognizable. 

Just realized. Mulder replaced his slideshow with a phone. Now he can inflict them on his partner even in the midst of her autopsies. 

No one is safe. 

THERE’S A MULDER MOMENT, I ACTUALLY SMILED! 

And now it’s gone. 

“So now you’re saying you were attacked by a six-foot horny toad?”

“Woah, let’s keep this in the realm of natural sciences, shall we?”

Um. 

That’s not a Mulder line. 

That’s not even a Ken line, I don’t think. 

Need to think up a new name for Mulder, I guess. 

I figured it out. David’s attacking the lines too vigorously rather than letting them breathe. I’m sure he’ll get there. 

Or Mulder and Scully were swallowed up by a black hole the second after they exchanged “Scratchy beard” niceties. Because that’s the last I’ve seen of them. 

But honestly? Clone. Lives. Matter. 

So, I shall fully support Clone Mulder and Clone Scully living their truth, expressing their lived experiences, and digging through each other’s brains like hairless capuchin monkeys dressed in skin-tight leotards.  

I was gonna say “horny, hairless capuchin monkeys” but I’ve not got a LICK of sexual tension between them this whole time. 

They do say married couples transition from goose-pimply “honeymoon love” to matured, knowing passion; but all I’m getting is the “knowing” and none of the “passion”.  

Right after my point, the two exchanged a little upbeat moment. I’ll give it that; but the passion’s still not there.

WAIT, this episode has the fox-in-the-wall scene? 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

I thought that was the doppelganger one. 

‘Kay. Color me intrigued. 

…WHAT is going on with these random, “comedic” scenes?

Desk clerk yells "Monster!", Mulder runs in, guy’s shaking over a bottle, makes up a story, tells Mulder to go back to his room “or I’ll kill ya.” Mulder nods and walks off. 

I’m not getting the fun of this episode, but I’m only 12 minutes in. So. 

Mulder’s snooping in someone else’s room. 

Mulder took someone else’s meds. 

Mulder found an animal head with hollow eyes that led him to a secret room behind the motel room. 

Heh, get it, he’s a Fox looking through fox eyes at Scully. Get it. 

I’m remembering bits from DD and GA’s commentary and how they were cheering him on in this moment. Someone should’ve told them this is Clone!Mulder. 

More proof this man finds burrows in the unlikeliest places:

The manager says he installed those peeping tom hallways after 9/11, and yes that’s being used as an excuse but there’s supposed to be a joke behind it, right?

For instance: Rocky from Jose Chung’s From Outer Space took some political hits, but the jokes were funny and well-written. Here, they're either badly written or… someone’s directing these actors astray. And I know Clone!Mulder and innkeeper man are good actors because they’re doing their best selling this material. Things still feel wonky, unfortunately. 

Mulder’s getting objectified again, Your Honor. He got closeted last episode, he’s “questioning” this episode, and he’s being stared at in his speedo. And he didn't mind one bit.

Innkeeper man’s got closets of his own, too. *badum tssssss*

HOW did Mulder’s phone get a picture of the Lizardman in his human form earlier? In the split-second he and Scully opened the potty stall before turning and continuing their search? I'll even grant that... but a CLEAR one?

Whatever, whatever, whatever. 

Clone!Mulder’s patched his disbelief during the insomnia upgrade.

Clone!Scully unleashed a beast but still wakes up and stays up to hear him ramble. (Here’s the “my Mulder” line and the could-have-been-a-Knick’s-T-shirt moment.)

I do have another nitpick: why is Mulder diatribing here-- trying to convince Scully it’s a werewolf when she’s been saying monster or creature from the get-go? Is it the “werewolf” claim that he thinks she’ll rebut? Or? 

I do like: Scully about to answer, then nearly smiling when Mulder cuts her off. Brilliant touch. Hats off to GA for that second of goodness. 

“‘It defies every known law of nature’-- exactly, Scully, every known law of nature!”

Mulder, she’s agreed with this point since Herrenvolk. She kinda did a mini speech about it. 

He doesn’t know how it came to be, but all he’s saying is, “it’s a MONSTER.” 

She’s ready to go back to the Unremarkable House already, Mulder. She just needed you to nerd out over monsters. 

Which… isn’t that actually the most Scully thing you’ve ever heard? Think about it: she wants to leave the Conspiracy behind, it’s eating her alive, she’s so sad and yadda yadda yadda. Darin says, “Hold up, this girl loves Mulder’s rants and raves” and makes her poke and prod him out of despair with a juicy creature case. And then (hopefully) reaps the benefits. 

Girl’s got a mission. 

And also, this doesn’t mesh at all with the Revival’s canon, but when has that stopped this crazy trainwreck? 

Why’s Scully calling him watered-down-for-FOX’s-approval crazy when she’s been saying creature this whole time?  Does she just… like arguing him? …That’s a stupid question, does she like arguing with him this much? …Again, that’s a--

Mulder spouts his theory, admits he stole stuff from another guy’s room, and tells Scully they can use his meds to track him down. “Well, that sounds like a good investigative plan.” In other words: “And you do so good at beach.” 

Now Mulder wants to go peeping around the motel, for the lols. 

Ken energy, I’m just saying. 

Alsooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo not Mulder, sorry. He’d be curious, intrigued, perhaps roguishly amused by peeping tom corridors; but he’s never taken the time to search places inch-by-inch, top-to-bottom unless they directly related to the case. Is this a nitpick? Probably. But he’s flinging around broken FBI regulations left-and-right, carelessly reckless of all the rules and laws he’s breaking. Sure, Mulder’s a lawbreaker; but not to the extent that it would violate civilian rights. And even if it were fine, he’d be running off to the next lead instead of sticking around to snuffle through a useless one. 

The “Lizardman stabbing himself in the mirror with green glass to break the curse, not realizing it’s him” story doesn’t… really…. Darin Morgan’s writing crackfic at this point. 

Impotency jokes. 

Ahhh, the middle ages: you end up questioning things about yourself or having to pop pills one way or another. 

The comedy keeps failing, I think, because it’s trying too hard. This episode feels like a play (did I mention that earlier?) with dramatic pauses and etc. etc. Not really X-Filesy. 

The psychologist prescribes Mulder a pill (because Mulder believes the Lizardman’s a lizard man), then pops the pill himself the second Mulder leaves… which meansssss he believed, too? Though he doesn’t? 

I get he was supposed to be a crazy psychologist (ala Dr. Spiegel during the Johnny Depp trials), but, again, the comedy flopped. 

“Horny toad lizard man” works at a smart phone shop OF COURSE. Because that’s soooooooooooo clever! Modernization, crises of humanity and identity, get it??? 

Weremonster’s not offensive, but it’s… I’m gonna be honest, it’s not clever, either. 

Why does Scully wear her shirt open almost past her bra line now? Not shaming her, but that doesn’t seem a very Scully thing to do. I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking things. It was just her style, her way, her self-expression; and it feels smudged and lost in this version of Clone!Scully. 

At least she seems more naturally Scully, this episode. Which means she can only be natural in the funny episodes, huh. 

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. 

Mulder has a gold car? Mulder rented a gold car? There’s a gold car here that serves as middle-age-over-compensation commentary. 

Mulder chastises Scully about the danger of approaching a dangerous suspect without backup then runs off, get it, ‘cuz that’s FUNNY. 

I must have a heart of coal because I’m bored instead of tickled. It’s waaaaaaay better than being angry and tired, though, so. 

“I’ll take it” is giving this experience too many brownie points, so I’ll use “I’m resigned”, instead. 

Here we go, the part where the Lizardman voices Darin Morgan’s gripes with work culture (and I say that because Darin himself said he only works because he has to pay the bills. Which, fair enough, I suppose.)

Wait. Did Lizo Man go from a generic British to an Australian accent? 

Guy tries to stage a cop suicide by green glass at Mulder’s hands and…. I’m sorry, this is kind of a fever dream. I can’t even unpack that logic for some bizarre reason. 

Let me unpack that logic for some bizarre reason: 

Psychologist tells Lizardman the story about breaking the curse by getting stabbed in the appendix. 

It involves the realization that the Werelizard stares at himself in the mirror and realizes he’s the monster. 

Does… does that prevent him from committing suicide? The psycologist’s instructions remain murky. 

Lizardman’s fed up with existence. Decides enough’s enough and goes back to the cemetery. 

Mulder walks up and tries to get him to unburden himself. 

Lizardman tries to bait him into cop homicide by green bottle. 

…How in the world did he think that would happen. 

MULDER. LOST. HIS GUN. Which is probably a wink-and-nod by Darin of the good ol’ days when Mulder lost it constantly. 

This Lizard’s gotta know who Mulder is at this point, and that Mulder would track him down and find him. That’s my prediction. 

Mulder agrees to kill Guy Mann. Guy Mann calls him the only nice human he’s ever met. Of course cut back to Mulder’s face as he insists Guy tell him the whole story, first. 

Scully has no idea where Mulder is, does she. 

I knew the psychologist’s “other client thought he was a werewolf” would play into this. Heavy-handedly. 

The stupid, perfectly placed bush when Lizardman woke the next morning. I can’t even be mad at it. 

He took the not-nudist’s clothes, that explains things. 

The dialogue’s also kind of… juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvenile. 

Lizardman leaped over the natural order of human life by talking mad game, and Darin glosses over the details with “humans are the best at that.” Ooooooookay. 

Nope, that doesn’t work for me. Not if Lizardman joined a tech shop and got promoted to manager the next day. 

I feel like Darin hasn’t hung around iphone shops much. 

HE COMMITTED A MURDER BECAUSE HE ATE A COW IN A HAMBURGER. Really.

Was this lizard a vegetarian????? Because animals constantly break their own eating rituals if they’re hungry (deer eating baby birds, rabbits, and even human corpses, for example.) I doubt a creature of that size and strength existed only on vegetation, especially if there were food shortages during the natural course of its life (which happens in the wild.) 

But NITPICK ASIDE, he ate his first cow. 

…Why didn’t he go find a head of lettuce and chow down on it? Then realize he’s missing something, eat the chicken from the salad, then go on a meat-eating binge? That would have been kinda funny. 

Oh, he’s an insectivore. 

So, he’s a meat eater. 

And he... uuuuuuuuuuuuugh--

Dude’s a protein eater via the carcases of other living things, not plants. 

Dude didn’t have consciousness until he woke a man. 

So it wouldn’t have mattered to Dude if he ate a cow, anyway, because he’s a carnivore and humans are omnivores. 

So what gives? 

“No one likes insects. Not even other insects.” SO INSECTS HAVE EMOTIONS, LIKES, AND PREFERENCES. YET, YOU ATE THEM. I don’t see sound reasoning for an ethical or moral stance here, Guy Mann. 

Lizardman spent the rest of the day helplessly watching… porn. Just couldn’t help himself. Uh huh. 

Dude, you were an animal YESTERDAY, with no association to human morays or social etiquette or guidelines or….

OH. That’s how the Scully scene plays into this. 

But then that scene’ll be shot because it’s played for jokes-- males wanting to overexaggerate their knotch count-- rather than a very real reality of animals with zero morals when it comes to their procreation habits. 

Let’s see if I’m right. 

Guys, this would have been funnier and-- there’s that word again-- clever if Guy Mann lived like a caveman for a few days then overheard some humans talk about job, bills, and etc. spiraled, thinking he would be stuck as a half-human forever, and resigned himself to the fate of every other human (through the lens of his lizard brain, heh.) 

It’s not supposed to be taken seriously, I know, but Darin always wrote plausibility into his previous scripts. This one feels like he didn’t try hard enough. 

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO wow. 

Guy went to a "witch doctor"-- oops, “a psychologist”-- but stopped taking his prescribed meds because “it just clouded my thoughts” TO WHICH MULDER NODS IN UNDERSTANDING. 

Mulder gets it because, as an Oxford educated psychologist, he could diagnose the other psychologist (who shouldn’t be prescribing meds) as a wack job. 

Mulder stopped taking his meds. 

Which is what Scully asked if he’d done in the intro. 

Which means his depression’s gone away without his meds. 

Which means his depression’s either CURED, BOOM, or he never needed meds to begin with. 

Which means Scully misdiagnosed him. 

And left. 

OR Mulder stopped taking them and was on depression med withdrawal in the beginning of this episode, hence his melancholia…? 

‘Tis a mess. 

Only time to be happy as a human is to spend time in the company of a non-human-- YOU’RE AN ANIMAL. YOU’RE NOT A HUMAN. YOU JUST LOOK LIKE ONE FOR TWELVE HOURS A DAY. 

Also, Daggoo. Yup. There he is. Uhuh. 

Scully was robbed of her first dog by an overgrown lizard and robbed from another overgrown lizard in return. 

Daggoo was let out of the motel and ran off, and Mann felt crushing loss and grief (while looking not quite that) then ran into Mulder and Smarty K and ran to the toilet and got pap shot by Mulder and etc. 

(Also, he ran into the werewolf dude; and Mulder knows the urge to “strangle him and eat his flesh” when it comes to villains and their villainy.)

Hokey. That’s how I would describe this episode. Inoffensive, but new Scooby Doo.  

Wait, he threw his clothes off while witnessing the werewolf man eat another man (get it, it looked like animalistic sex) then but had them on again when Mulder ripped open the stall door and took his pants-down shot. 

What. 

Wait, Mulder’s up-to-date with transgender procedures and terms but not? familiar with gay bars? 

What, did he subscribe to a Queer Life email subscription between episodes, or is that too new-fangled? 

This episode doesn’t know what angle it wants to tackle for Clone!Mulder (forgot that nickname temporarily) and instead becomes a mix of everything at different strengths (that also change depending on which scene.) 

HOW did Guy Mann not recognize Mulder after Mulder took a picture of him on the port-a-potty??? And stuck around to ask him some questions??? 

“That was me, actually.” 

“I thought I recognized you!” 

So. He… diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid? 

OR it was a jackalope head on the wall?

No, wait, it wasn’t a jackalope, Guy Mann just misidentified the animal head on the wall-- and he’s “creeped out” by jackalopes ever since a friend got “gored” by them and GET IT, GUYS, THIS ALL LINKS BACK TO THE BASEMENT WHEN MULDER TALKED ABOUT MOTHMEN AND JACKALOPES. 

I swear, Mulder’s just trippin or suffering withdrawals from his meds. 

Scully said, “We have a creature case,” and he went home and dreamed this all up in a slime pit of sweat. 

HIS DEAD FRIEND GEORGE. 

SO THESE LIZARD PEOPLE HAVE NAMES????

THEN WHY’S HIS NAME GUY MANN?????????????????????????????????????

SO, they have friends and eat insects that have some form of consciousness and consider burgers to be cow murder. 

I need to stop thinking seriously about this plot. 

It’s pit stink Mulder thrashing around in his bed, smiling over speedos and peeping tom tunnels and Scully affectionately calling him crazy-- and that makes the most sense, honestly. 

“I think my phone isn’t working right because guys don’t send me pictures of their junk on it.”

More evidence that this was written not by Darin Morgan but by his middle school aged doppelganger, Marin Dorgan, who split from his body during the stress of having to write for the Revival. 

“Ever since I became a human, I can’t help but lie about my sex life.” Stupid. He’d need a Twitter account, first. 

Mulder’s back to doubting because the entire story’s too silly. To be fair, I do like this beat; and it does align (if you squint at it) with his journey out of depression. BUT it is all too silly, so… kinda think Clone!Mulder’s got a point. 

Mulder smiling over learning that Shakespeare called us all ignorant idiots is a nice touch which I shall now spoil: how did Guy Mann know that? Porn? 

“Fox, man, you’ve gotta put me out of my misery!” Get it, Fox Mann, Guy Mann? Animals, GET IT. 

“You wanted to arrest me for something I didn’t do. Who takes advantage like that? I’ll tell you: a human.” That’s the only comedic bit that landed, for me, and even then it was a lip twitch. His contained righteous indignation got through whatever made the rest of this the way it is! WHOO! 

The guy goes stomping off yelling “Monster!” behind him at Mulder to drive his point home, which drives Mulder to drink. 

“Mulder’s the monster, get it, because he doesn’t know what he is and is just willing to use other people for his own selfish ends?” the plot says, affectionately, with a giggle behind its hand. 

This is the scene where he collapses by Kim Manner’s tomb, isn’t it. 

ARE YOU KIDDING, MULDER HAS HIS THEME SONG AS A RINGTONE. 

MULDER’S HIGH, THAT’S IT. HE’S HIGH OR OVERDOSING ON HAPPY DRUGS, THERE’S NO OTHER EXPLANATION. 

Now that I know this is Ken Mulder’s delirium, it’s going to be interesting to draw unauthorized conclusions about his Alice in Wonderland hallucination. 

Aww, look, it’s Kim Manners. 

Mulder’s got his Patriarchy Pants' cheeks right on Kim’s face. 

Me, ten minutes into the Revival: “Maybe I’m just a fool, Scully. Maybe I always have been.” 

Can’t knock that line too much because it is a Mulder thing to think or say. 

And it still fits into my delirium scenario, so. 

Oh, Kumail’s been turned. Didn’t see that coming. The music’s suspenseful, too. That’s cool. 

There’s no way Mulder should figure this out, but he probably will. 

Oh, he didn’t. 

That’s good. 

Also, Scully’s: “Maybe I miss having a dog. And someone to hold my grudges for me,” could apply to her tendency to own dogs but it also might refer to Mulder who she let “curse God for a while” in her stead in IWTB. 

Also, where was THIS scene hiding? It’s really good. 

Ken Mulder’s hobbling, not running, to his car. ‘Kay. 

Wait, Kumail's not a werewolf?

And Scully's got it all handled???? 

Wait, NO, that makes no sense. AND IT’S ALL EXPLAINED AWAY WITH “I’M IMMORTAL” what. 

Scully went to the animal control shelter because she suspected Kumail was the murderer. 

She lingered with her back to Kumail, letting him have home court advantage. 

HE SLIPPED A NOOSE AROUND HER NECK. 

That’s it, she’s doneso. She’s a 5’2” woman that’s as light as a bird, there’s no way she’s toppling a man, let alone one with a noose around her neck and has distance on his side. 

Yes, I know this was because the transgender woman surprised Guy Mann with her punch, but that doesn’t translate to a stunning twist for Scully to also have the upper hand. She doesn’t have enough meat on her bones, and nowhere near the arm length to stop her attacker. 

Did Guy Mann show up and interfere? Help her out in anyway? Did the dogs rush in and tackle him until she could get up? 

IS SCULLY A DOG WHISPERER????? If so, why did Daggoo bite her????????

I will say: Kumail being the murderer really changes that one scene where he was sneaking up behind Mulder. 

And also… the fact that he worked for an animal shelter, since he started with small animals.

WAIT, this is a normal animal control shelter, yes? That’s what Mulder yelled into his phone, anyway. 

But… there were only dogs in the room when Mulder and the officers arrived. 

So. Scully is a dog whisperer, or she tackled Kumail, loosed all the dogs before he got up, and pinned him (impossible) until the cops arrived. I guess. Or the dogs were loose to begin with. 

Oh, and chickens.

Dogs and chickens. 

Dogs. And chickens. And goats. 

(Were ALL the animals loose??????)

Scully, the farm animal whisperer. A trait she must share with her Wyoming son. 

Welp. There goes that scene. 

Scully approached a dangerous suspect twice without backup (says Mulder, who was Kenning it out in the cemetery with the first dangerous suspect… and the second, if you count him running off and nearly getting offed by Kumail without his knowledge); and excuses it by saying Mulder needed “quality time” with his Lizardman. 

“Besides, I’m immortal.” 

That sounds like the prequel to another poor decision tattooed on your back, Scully. 

Mulder’s not soothed by this pronouncement (obviously), but realizes “If Guy’s story was true--” and runs off into the woods. Again. 

And Scully asks the dog if he wants to go home with her. 

And I question. Why a dog. Why that dog. 

You miss dogs but you didn’t have a tie to any particular dog. And this dog bit you. 

Because he’s Plot Relevant Dog. I see. 

“Woah, I’m not a reptile! That’s racist!”

No it’s not you silly, silly reptile with utterly unexplainable human knowledge and reflection. 

Also, another motif of Mulder just standing there watching another guy undress, casually. 

An aspect of Darin’s writing I hadn’t considered: Mulder knows Guy does odd things for a normal human; but also knows this is normal for Guy and just goes with it, for his sake. Like a good psychologist. Like a decent human. 

But also, he has his limits. 

Also, get it, Mulder’s a man outside mankind, too, who just needs to find himself again. Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit?

“I want to believe,” Mulder says. 

Mulder just needed someone to say they’re glad to have met him, they’re glad to have him in their life. 

So. 

I guess Scully hasn’t said those words yet. 

Guy shakes his hand. 

Mulder watches, stunned, as Guy runs off to hibernate for 10,000 years-- another hallmark of Marin Dorgan’s writing. Ha ha ha, a knee slapper, that one. 

“Likewise,” Mulder whispers, overcome and disbelieving and renewed all in one. 

A nice little heartfelt, cheesy, sincere ending. 

CONCLUSION

What did I just watch? 

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[amuseoffyre]

Since insomnia is kicking my arse of late, I naturally tilted into the thoughts about the nature of the 3-act structure and why S2 of OFMD may have felt off and incomplete to a lot of people.

I am fully in agreement that we lost a lot of valuable time with only 8 episodes and a lot of it did feel rushed, but for the amount of story and set-up and growth and development they needed to fit into 4 hours of television, they did astonishing things.

DJenks has said from the very start that this is a story that has been planned out to take 3 seasons. It's literally a 3-act play and we are currently right in the middle of the worst part of that timeline according to every traditional 3-act structure.

Act one/season one is self-explanatory. Like New Hope in the Star Wars Trilogy or Fellowship of the Ring, this is the set-up. We're introduced to our protagonists and antagonists, the relationships are given a foundation.

The beginning is Stede's journey to becoming a real boy. The inciting incident, the one that actually pushes his change beyond "playing pirates" is meeting Ed. The second thoughts come together in episode 8/9 after his confrontations with Jack and Chauncey and episode 10 is the climax.

Act 2/season 2 is never going to be as smooth and simple as act 1/s1. A big part of the A2/S2 job is set up for A3/S3 and this is what we're seeing and why a lot of story threads seem to have been left dangling.

Again, to call back to Empire Strikes Back and The Two Towers, the structure is much the same: the original batch of people are divided and scattered, the big enemy from A1/S1 is looming, new allies make themselves known. In SW, this meant the introduction of Lando and Yoda as allies plus the hint of the Emperor lurking in the background. In LotR, we have the Rohirrim, Gondor and the Ents as allies and the expansion of Sauron's forces in Helm's Deep, Osgiliath and the winged wraiths.

There's a clear trajectory following the A2/S2 structure:

obstacle 1 - the crews separated and struggling

obstacle 2 - the end of episode 2 and the repercussions of his actions

twist - just when things start to settle, the Ned Low situation happen and Stede kills for the first time

obstacle 3 - Ed's struggle with his identity leading to him leaving

disaster - Ricky's assault on the Republic

crisis - do-or-die battle because they have no other choice

climax - the last 15 minutes of ep. 8 live here.

As with SW and LotR, there's an ending, but weighted with the knowledge of a story that is meant to continue. Each of those act 2 films end with the heroes still aware of the looming threat, some of them heading out on new missions, and some of them resting and healing. There's brief pause, brief respite, a moment to take a breath.

We have all the characters in place now and the battle-lines have been drawn. Luke still needs to confront Vader (I see you, impending Ed and Hornigold confrontation), Frodo still needs to destroy the ring, Aragorn still needs to lead the army against the Black Gate, the second Death Star is still hanging in the sky.

I'm so excited to see what S3 brings because we have so many arcs ready to go: Zheng's vengeance trip, the inevitable enforced out-of-retirement arc for Ed and Stede, Hornigold, Ricky trying to maintain his tenuous control of the republic given how many of his people were killed when the crew escaped, the pirate rebellion gathering forces.

Also how often do we get shows/films where the supporting cast are given this much storyline? We have a named/speaking-role cast of upwards of 15 central characters. That is a staggering amount of people to work with, when most shows would only focus on the leads and a couple of their friends. Six is the average for most TV shows, while comedies can inch higher because ensembles, but most ensembles don't get as much as our crew did.

I know a lot of people aren't happy about Izzy's death. I know I would have liked to see him a lot more, because he's such a grumpy old bitch and I love him and him affectionately roasting Ed and Stede would have made my entire month. But I'm also aware that narratively, as a figurehead of the old ways of piracy and "we were Blackbeard", it was a symbolic death as well - a sign of the death of the old ways of piracy and of Blackbeard as was.

(Also, they Obi-Wanned him. I'm not over that. Gave him the "if you strike me down I will become more powerful" speech. I'm just... guys, your star wars nerdery is showing XD)

So while it was flawed in places and pacing, given the scale of the story they're telling, the number of pieces and characters they had in play, and the arcs they have been setting up while also still keeping the humour, I am giving a standing ovation for a remarkable piece of work.

[krisdreaming]

One Week

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

Summary: You and Kuroo decide to spend the week leading up to your wedding sleeping apart. After all, it will make your wedding night feel that much more special, right?

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Hopefully the text message format I used makes sense 😬 This is 100% inspired by an episode of How I Met Your Mother in which Marshall and Lily do this exact thing. Tbh it's my comfort show and this is like my 5th time watching it, and when the episode came around, the fic idea hit me like a truck. ALSO there is a small reference to one of my old past fics in here, and if you get it you're a real one.

By the time you get to your best friend and maid of honor's apartment, it's late. The whole day had been spent putting together all of the favors and décor for your wedding, now only one week away. You're so exhausted you feel like you could fall asleep on your feet right here in the entryway, but she pulls you the rest of the way inside, wrestling your bag through the door after you.

"Geez!" She huffs. "Why's this so heavy? You didn't pack Tetsurou in here, did you?"

You roll your eyes. "A week is a long time! I had to pack a lot of stuff. Besides, bringing him would kind of defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" You raise an eyebrow. This had initially been your idea, after all. You thought that spending the week before your wedding away from each other would make the night of your wedding that much more special. Since you already live together, you figured some time apart would probably do you good, anyway.

"I suppose it would," She agrees, "But I know how you two are." You narrow your eyes at her, but before you can respond, she's already tugging you toward the living room.

"I've got the sofa bed all ready for you," She announces with a proud flourish, and you feel almost like you could collapse just at the sight of it. It's full of fluffy blankets and two giant pillows, and she's even generously loaned you one of her plushies.

"It looks like heaven," You groan, stifling a yawn. "I'm wiped."

"So am I," She agrees, fighting back a yawn of her own. "Guess we'll have to save the sleepover girl talk for tomorrow night," She shrugs. "It'll be just like middle school all over again!" She loops her arm through yours, and you can't help but giggle at the thought. The two of you sure did share some wild sleepovers back in the day. "Alright," She finally says, "I'll see you in the morning."

When you're finally ready for bed, you crawl under the covers happily. You snuggle into the pillows as you cocoon into the blankets, trying not to think about how strange it is to be lying in bed all alone for once. There's no warm body wrapped around yours, and not even your cat to curl up against you. "Guess it's you and me, Mr. Unicorn," You murmur as you tug the plush into your arms, giving in easily to the exhaustion pulling on you.

The next day is busy enough at work. You're only working for the first two days this week, having taken the rest of the week off to focus on the wedding prep. Between tying up all of your loose ends at work and the mental to-do list you keep adding tasks to, the day passes with very little thought of Tetsurou. It's not until you're laying in your sofa bed that night after a movie and snacks that it starts to hit you.

You hug the unicorn plush close again, but you're very aware of the absence of your fiancé. You're so used to his arms around you at night, his nose pressed into the nape of your neck.

Maybe it's silly, but with all of the stress starting to weigh down on you, you find yourself missing the comfort of his presence much more than you'd anticipated. With a sigh, you roll onto your back and reach for your phone. Your thumbs only hover for a moment before you hit send.

I miss you

It isn't long before your screen lights up with a reply.

You literally saw me yesterday you weirdo

Is it bad that even that teasing sentence brings you some sort of strange comfort? You're just about to type a reply when another message comes through.

Which is why it's so ridiculous that I miss you too

You can't help the smile that steals across your face at that. For some reason, the knowledge that he's feeling the same things you're feeling lessens the ache a bit.

It's dumb

You feel confident in saying it, now that you have this thread of connection with him.

You said it, not me

Comes his cheeky reply, quickly followed with,

Mittens won't leave me alone. I think he thinks I murdered you and disposed of the body.

You almost chuckle aloud at that.

Poor guy, he misses me too 🥺 and honestly, his fears are valid

You curl up on your side, holding your phone close.

Uncalled for

And then

I'm about to fall sleep, so I'd better go. I'll see you later this week

You try your best to ignore the disappointment sinking in your gut.

Me too. Goodnight, I love you

His reply comes almost immediately.

I love you too. Night

It's enough to satiate you, anyway. On Friday, only four days away, you'll see him for the rehearsal. That's not really so far away. As you lay there clutching your phone, you can feel your eyes growing heavier.

The next day is just as crazy, as you give your coworkers instructions for your absence and make sure all of your projects have been submitted. After work, you go straight to dinner with your bridesmaids, and the whole evening is spent talking and laughing together.

By the time you make it back to the apartment, you should be so exhausted that you all asleep immediately. You definitely feel it, but from the moment you lay down, the hollow feeling slowly returns to your middle. You hesitate when the thought first occurs to you, but it seems reasonable enough. You'll feel better if you can just hear his voice for a few moments.

"Hey Baby," He answers after two rings.

"Did I wake you up?" You blurt out quickly, instantly feeling guilty and wishing you had just tried to fall asleep.

"Nah," He assures you, "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong," You sputter. "I just-"

"Missed me?" He finishes for you, and the teasing lilt in his voice is almost enough to make you hang upon him on the spot.

"Maybe," You respond petulantly instead, and he laughs. The sound of it, even through the phone, is enough to set you more at ease.

"Who knew you were so clingy," He muses. "Just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Maybe I'll just hang up," You huff.

"Wait," He says a little too quickly, and you smile to yourself. Gotcha. "Mittens wants to say hi, too. You can let him know you're not dead." Suddenly, the phone line is filled with the rumble of your cat's purr.

"Hi baby boy," You croon into the phone, "Dad isn't being nasty to you, is he?"

"You're on speaker," Tetsurou warns as Mittens lets out a small meow, and you laugh. "Plus I'm not his dad," he reminds you as he always does.

"Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself," You laugh again. You're feeling so much lighter, in a good way. As your laughter dies down, you try to hold in a yawn.

"Sounds like you're ready to fall asleep. I know you've got to get up early tomorrow to meet the florist."

"Hm, yeah." You acknowledge begrudgingly.

"It'll be here before you know it," He says softly.

"I know." You hold the phone to your ear for a few moments in silence. "I can't wait."

"Me neither. I love you so much." You can tell he's getting tired because he's getting sappier.

"I love you too, Tetsu."

"Say it again," He says it so low that you almost don't catch it.

"I love you," You repeat. "Good night, Tetsu."

"Good night," He echoes. "Love you, Baby." Even after the line goes dead, you can still feel the smile on your face and the warmth in your middle. As you fall asleep, you set an ultimatum for yourself. For the next two days, you won't contact him at all, just like you'd intended. Piece of cake.

The next day, you hold to your promise. After a busy day spent running here and there, the sofa bed has never felt more comfortable. You resolutely set your phone face down on the end table and close your eyes tight. Tonight, you're not going to break. You're a strong, independent woman. You tell yourself that until the long day finally gets the better of you and you drift off to sleep.

Finally, it's Thursday. One day until the dress rehearsal and you see Tetsurou again. You're proud of yourself. Sure, you'd only made it one night without contacting him, but technically, you haven't seen each other at all. You're going to count that as a win.

You actually have some time to relax before bed, and you and your friend pull out all the stops. She's got an array of face masks, fancy lotions, and even a foot spa she'd pulled out from somewhere. You're just laying out the last of the snacks when your phone dings. It's a message from Tetsurou.

You didn't call yesterday

Very interesting.

Sorry, I didn't know we had an appointment

His reply comes almost immediately.

I'm outside. Come out for a minute?

It's all you can do not to laugh out loud. Still, he came all this way. You shouldn't let it be for nothing. You glance at your friend, mind working quickly to think of a valid reason you'd need to leave the apartment at this time of the evening.

"I'm going to get in the shower," She suddenly announces. You can't believe your luck. Your stint as her roommate proved that she is notorious for taking long showers. "Don't eat all of the Takis before I'm back or else."

"Would I do that?" You ask, hand splayed across your chest indignantly. She shoots you a glare and heads for the bathroom. The moment you hear the shower turn on, you slip on a pair of shoes and you're out the door.

You practically run into Tetsurou the moment you step outside. "Hi," he says sheepishly, with his familiar crooked smile. You launch yourself into his arms, and he immediately holds on tight.

"Hi," You breathe back, finally pulling back enough to look into his face again. "We failed," You say solemnly, before breaking into a grin.

"We did," He agrees, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Spectacularly."

"She's in the shower," You explain quickly, "So I shouldn't really stay too long."

"Alright," He says absently, thumbs tracing a pattern against your hips.

"You didn't bring Mittens, did you?" You crane your neck around him to check for the cat backpack you'd purchased on a whim a few years back.

"Don't be ridiculous," He says drily. You pout, and he kisses it away.

"I missed you," You sigh against his lips despite yourself, and you feel his lips curving into a smile.

"I missed you too." He admits. He pulls back again, and you silently drink him in. "We're getting married in two days," He says candidly.

"We are," You agree, grin threatening to burst off of your face.

"And I'll see you tomorrow at the dress rehearsal," He adds.

"Mmhmm," You nod. You glance at the time. "I should get back inside," You say reluctantly. In response, he pulls you in for one last kiss.

"Goodnight. I love you. So much."

"I love you too. So so much." Before he can one-up you, you pull away and turn back inside. "Goodnight!" You call over your shoulder.

The moment you step through the apartment door, you freeze. Your friend is standing there, arms crossed. "How was Tetsurou?" She asks coolly, a smile playing at the edges of her lips.

You open your mouth, then close it. "I was just getting some fresh air?" You finally say weakly.

"And I'm Albert Einstein." She replies, turning for the couch. "Come on," She pats the cushion next to her, beckoning you forward. "You two are disgusting," She adds as an afterthought. She's shaking her head, but she's smiling.

The next 48 hours are a whirlwind, but at the end of it you find yourself at your wedding reception, seated next to your husband. You'd made it here, and now you feel like you can finally draw a breath.

"Wait, so did you guys actually last the entire week without seeing each other?" Kenma suddenly asks skeptically, looking between the two of you. You glance at Tetsurou. Clearly, he hadn't shared the truth with his best man. Your maid of honor opens her mouth beside you, but you nudge her under the table with the sharp toe of your shoe. Since it is your wedding day, she stays silent.

"Sure did," Tetsurou says, grinning broadly as he slides his arm around your shoulders, brushing his fingers against your skin affectionately. "It was worth it," He adds, pressing a kiss to your temple. You lean into the press of his lips. Yes, it certainly was.

[darlingshane]

Salt of the Earth ~ Part 1

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC

Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.

Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Implied/referenced drug addiction, Alcohol mention, Divorce, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy. Undisclosed age gap (in my mind Michael is late 30s and OC is late 20s, but it's really up to your interpretation).

Word Count: 6.8k // 4 chapters // AO3 link.

A/N: This is set in the year of the Fishes episode on season 2. It starts in summer and slowly builds up to that Christmas.

— This was an anon request that I got a few months ago, I hope you're still around. I tried to fit all the ideas you sent as best I could. There's a bit of info dump on the first chapter, but I hope it isn't too off-putting.

Chapter 1: Best thing since sliced bread

Seconds stretch into minutes, minutes elongate into long hours on slow days like this at The Beef. Especially in summer when the air conditioner stops working for the second time in the middle of August. Any living soul that crosses that door must have a dying wish or be the devil themselves to adventure themselves to what has become Michael's personal hell.

It's been a testing year, and there's so much he can do to fix this place right now. While he waits for Fak to come check the damn AC unit, Michael tends the front while Ebra takes his lunch break.

Turning the paper's pages on the counter, he comes across an article about the extensive fires eating different parts of the country. A wretched thought crosses his mind as he reads – maybe it'd be better to burn this place to the ground and start over. He entertains the idea for a second until the door swings open, inviting more heat into the boiling pot.

He lifts his eyes from the words to find a familiar face approaching the counter. It's not Fak, but a much better vision of someone he used to know.

“Mayhem Maya.”

“Magic Mikey.”

That former thought of burning down this place disappears somewhere in the midst of that beautiful aura that saunters with her big brown eyes, long raven hair, nervous smile, and firm steps.

“It's been a while, Maybird.” Almost ten years since she set foot in this establishment. “What brings you to this hole in the wall?”

“Came to collect that meatball sub you promised at uncle Teddy's funeral, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

Ever since she moved to a different state, he only had seen her a handful of times when she came back for the holidays. Last time he saw her was at the beginning of spring, when her uncle, Ted Silva, passed away.

“I also had an interview at the new vet clinic on the next block.” She places her cross-body bag on an empty stool while she perches her ass on the one next to it.

“How's that going? Did you get tired of California already?”

“No, I love California. But I needed a change of scenery. It's been rough after… you know…” the divorce. She wasn't married for long, but she still can't bring herself to say the word.

“I’ve heard some of it.” He’s pretty much aware of how everything went down. Well, he’s got grapevine’s juicy version of the story, but he never heard her side directly.

Though Michael and Maya know each other as if they were related, they were never close confidants. She always thought he was the coolest guy in Chicago. And he always thought fondly of her, given their families association, and Maya’s close friendship with his brother.

Michael places an order for her sandwich and grabs a soda for her, while she explains she has two more job interviews later.

“Does your mother know you're back?” He folds the paper and props his elbows on the counter.

“She probably does.”

“Still not talking, huh?”

“It's not my fault she made me the black sheep of the family. She’s like vitriol on steroids.”

“Yeah? What happened at the wake? You left before I could say goodbye.”

Michael recalls the tension at the funeral, particularly at the wake when Angela Silva grabbed Maya by the elbow and took her youngest daughter outside the house as if she was still a child that needed to be scolded.

“Nothing. I barely said a word that day. Guess everything I do feels like a personal attack to her. I can admit that I'm not perfect, and that sometimes I've acted up just to get a reaction out of her, but that day she just went off again…” She pauses without finishing that thought to take a refreshing sip of her coke. “And that wasn't nearly as bad as the day I told her I was getting…”

“Divorced? Why can't you say the word? It's not Voldemort.”

“What the hell do you know about Voldemort?”

“How do I… Who took you and Carmy to buy those damn books? Have you forgotten?” Maya shakes her head. “You even tried many times invoking his name, so I was haunted by eaters or something like that. You two were real potterheads.”

“And you were just a pothead,” she laughs, stirring the ice cubes in her drink with a straw. “I totally blocked that out. We were just a couple of nerds.”

“I’d say!”

“Meatball sub!” Richie calls from the pass-through window and takes a second look when catching Maya in the joint. “Maya Papaya?!”

“Please, don’t call me that.” She scoffs while Richie promptly abandons the kitchen and goes around the counter to give her a welcoming hug.

“Did you know she was coming?” He asks Michael, as he props his ass on the bar.

“Had no idea. She just showed up.”

“Did you tell her about Carmy?”

“What about him?”

“He’s in Copenhagen.”

“Oh, I knew about that.”

“You two talk often?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” Barely more likely. They don't even text anymore. She's tried but there's been nothing but crickets at his end for months.

While Richie grills her about Carmy and what she’s been up to, Michael can’t help but look around the shop to notice, from every corner and wall, memories bouncing all at once in his direction. It takes him back in time to those days when she and Carmy were as thick as thieves.

Their shared history goes back to that same street their families have lived on for over thirty years… It’s still clear in his mind, like it was yesterday, when he was forced to babysit them when they wanted to go to the movies or trick-or-treating or the bookstore. That was a little annoying back then, now he fondly remembers all those times in summer, when they’d go to the convenience store to get ice pops on their bikes. Then they’d ride back and sit in the middle of the swanky rug in their living room and watch TV for hours. More than once they were yelled at by Mama Berzatto when she would come home to find melted colorful stains in the fabric. She would lose her shit. Carmy was used to it. Maya wasn’t, but the girl never flinched once cause Donna and her own mother were cut from the same unstable piece of cloth.

Maya and Carmy were really close up until they went separate ways for college. Their bond was something to admire. They had something so special that inevitably, Carmy fell in love with her. She was his best friend and confident. They kept each other's secrets, and Carmy thought she'd feel the same in return. It wasn't a crazy notion. They spent so much time together, everyone thought it'd lead to something more, but that never happened.

Mikey and Richie used to tease the youngest cub relentlessly. They tried multiple times to encourage him to ask her out, but he never found the guts to do it. Especially if it could potentially end their friendship. Carmy didn't want to lose that. Though he never confessed his feelings, Maya always knew. Even in her teens, call it a woman’s intuition, part of her already knew. Maya wished she'd felt the same toward him, but the heart wants what it wants, and she couldn't change that.

What was really fucked up was that she had the most ridiculous crush on the older Berzatto when she was a teen. While she knew he'd never look at her as anything other than Carmy's annoying little friend, that didn't stop her from daydreaming about it for years. It was a secret that no one ever knew and that was placed in a drawer at the back of her mind after she left Chicago.

After graduating, Maya and Carmy stayed in touch for a long time, until their calls and texts became less frequent. They followed different dreams that required a lot of attention and sadly their friendship got hurt in the process.

While she attended Vet School on the west coast, he became a chef on the east.

Maya thrived at school and work. She really went out on her own, and became the woman she always wanted to be. Unsheltered, confident, outspoken. She outgrew her shell and opened herself to new experiences and people. She loved it all. It wasn’t smooth sailing, but for the most part she was pretty happy with her choices.

And now she's back in Chicago, set on a new path and awaiting to see where it takes her.

She’s living in a house in Oak Park with her dog, Coco; Richie fishes out of her. Apparently, she got some money from uncle Teddy, and she’s invested it in a home for her and her beloved staffy.

“Does Carmy know you’re here?” Richie circles back.

“No, I haven't talked to him in months.”

“Why? Did you two have a fall-out or something?”

“There's no why. We're just busy.”

“Mike, help me out here. Weren’t these two fools supposed to get married?”

“Yeah, everyone thought you'd ended up together.”

“Man, I don't know what to tell you, we just didn't,” her head sinks between her shoulders.

“Just get over yourself and hit him up. The kid has been hung up on you since forever. It looks like things didn’t go so well with your marriage and all. You should take that as a sign, you’d never find anyone better than Carmy. The boy could really use some excitement in his life. And so could you.”

“C’mon, leave her alone. Go back to work, Cousin.”

Michael throws her a lifeline, noticing how miserable she looks every time Richie opens his unfiltered mouth.

“He’s not wrong, you know? You and Carmy… it looked like you two had something special.” Michael offers once Richie is back in the kitchen.

“It’s called friendship. You should look it up.” She points out.

“I have Richie.”

“Exactly. You have Richie. Why don't you two marry the other and leave me alone? If you think about it, you were as close to Richie as I was with Carmy. Even more. Should everyone assume you are in love with him? Cause that's what you're implying.”

“Touché. I'll drop it.”

“Look, as hard as it is to believe, there was nothing else between us. I was aware he felt something for me, but I didn’t feel the same.”

“You should give him a chance sometime. He might surprise you.”

It’s not the first time these two have been trying to play matchmaker between Maya and Carmy, and it’s bizarre to see they still do at any given opportunity.

“Okay, if I give Carmy a chance, you have to give Richie a chance. Those are the rules, Berzatto.”

“Oh, I've tried. He's not into me,” he remarks, amused, and leans closer to confess something in a lower voice. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

“Uh, sure.”

“He and Tiffany are having a baby. He just told me a few days ago.”

“What? You let him reproduce? I'll pray for Tiff.”

Chapter 2: Cool as a cucumber

Everything falls slowly into place as Maya settles back in Chicago. She secures the job at the clinic near The Beef, which is a huge relief after her rushed decision of moving back to her hometown without securing a job first. It was part of the plan all along to practice what she loves but never thought this would be the year. As much as she loved California, once her divorce was finalized she felt like something was trapping her there. And the money she got from her uncle gave her some leeway to improvise, get away from all that, and start over.

Maya is spending her morning going through the stack of unpacked boxes, finding a good place for everything, making it feel more homey. It's not a big house, but spacious enough for the two of them. The big selling point was the backyard for Coco to zoom around and cool down in her wading pool, which she loves. It didn't take long for the five-year-old pup to get used to her new neighborhood. They've even made a couple of friends at the park nearby.

A moment before the doorbell rings, Coco whines from her spot by the window, where she often sits to watch passers in the street.

“Who is it?” Maya playfully asks her dog as she makes her way to the front door.

Through the peephole, she sees Michael's profile as he inspects the porch.

“Hi,” her eyes widen as she opens the door. “Didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, I would've called, but I didn't get your number the other day.” But he got her address from Richie's intense questioning when she visited the shop.

“I knocked on two different houses until I got the right one,” he explains as Coco curiously circles around his feet, sniffing his pants, hitting his crotch with her nose in the process.

“No, Coco. Sit. How many times have we talked about no nut-tapping?” Maya glances at her with amusement as the dog sits on her haunches.

“It’s fine,” he snorts. “All dogs do that.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. But she’s not any other dog. I thought I had taught her better. So what brings you here?”

“This.” He offers the paper bag hanging in his hand. “It's just a little house-warming gift.”

“You didn't have to.” As she takes the bag from his hand she ushers him inside before closing the door.

“It's nothing, really.”

He glances around as Maya takes out the box from the bag.

“Wow, a set of knives? That's not nothing.”

“Everyone needs one good set of knives. But you can exchange them for something else if you want.”

“No. I like these. But I gotta warn you that I'm not much of a cook, and I'll probably use the same one for everything.”

“That's fine I can show you sometime though. Is she friendly? ” He points at the dog that keeps staring at him. “Can I pet her?”

“Yeah, she loves everyone. Go ahead.”

Michael cautiously pets the brown coat of her head as her floppy ears lower at the passing of his hand.

“Never pictured you with a pit bull.”

“Me neither. I always thought I'd be a cat lady. But I met her at this adoption drive when she was one, and she stole my heart.”

“I can see why.” Michael crouches down, and pets Coco with both hands. “She's really sweet.”

He lets her lick his chin a couple of times before standing back on his feet. Then they go on a tour around the house.

“It's still a work in progress. I'm thinking of painting a few walls, but we like it so far.”

“Yeah, it has good bones.”

“So you don't have to work today?” Asks Maya.

“No, we've had some trouble with the gas line, and we've been shut down for a couple of days.”

“That sucks. Now where am I going to get my sandwiches and coffee on my way to work?”

“Heard Starbucks is pretty good.”

“Shut up. Don't even joke about that.” She playfully shoves his shoulder as they go back to the living room.

“Are you doing something later?”

She shakes her head. “Why?”

“I don't know, thought you were having a comeback party or something.”

“I don't really have any friends here. And I don't feel like inviting my family yet. As you can see, I still have a lot to unpack.”

“Physically or mentally speaking?”

“Both,” she scoffs.

“Let's do something then? Just you and me. We could grab some pizza, or go out for a drink for old times’ sake?”

“Old times’ sake?” It's amusing, surprising and confusing his sudden interest in her. Maybe he can see how pathetic she thinks she is, and he's taking pity on her. Although, that was never Michael style.

“Yeah, c'mon, Mayhem. You look like you could use some fun.” He picks up a book that's sitting on top from the box opened by the couch that's titled — Dating Again with Courage and Confidence: The Five-Step Plan to Revitalize Your Love Life after Heartbreak, Breakup, or Divorce. “And maybe a rebound or something. You don't need a fucking help book. You only need me to show where to get the best guys, or girls. Whatever you're into.”

“Give me that. I don't need a rebound, a help book, or you for all matter finding me a date.”

“No? Then why do you have that?”

“My friend Paige thought I should give it a try.”

“Maybe she was onto something there.”

“I'm perfectly fine. Just want to finish organizing everything, focus on work and this handful I have right here.” Her hand gestures at Coco. “What are you so interested in my love life anyway? First you try to play matchmaker with Carmy, and now you want me to do what, exactly? Hook up with the first guy I see?”

“No, I'm just asking you to go out and have some fun. I know Carmy was the only friend you had here. And if I was in your shoes, I'd feel pretty lonely.”

“I'm not lonely, Michael. Do I miss my friends in Sacramento? Sure,” she admits. “But I don't wanna force anything. I'm just taking it slow. When the time comes I'll jump right in but for now, this is all I need. Really. Stop pitying me.”

“I'm not pitying you, sweetheart.”

“No? Then what is it? Where is this coming from?”

“I don't know… I've always thought you were the salt of the earth. And though we never really hung out together, I thought you could use… But I can see now that you're different, and that you know what you need right now, so I'll just shut up and back off. Let you do your thing.”

“Thank you. I do know what I'm doing, by the way. You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. But I appreciate you coming here anyway.”

“Yeah, of course. And I can help you unpack if you need.”

“Hm, if you don't have anything better to do, be my guest. We could grab a pizza later, if the offer still stands. Or just order some food.”

“Sure.”

Michael helps Maya unpack all the boxes and put everything in place in half the time it'd have taken her alone. They order some food for lunch and spend half the day talking and laughing until late in the afternoon when they decide to go out for some drinks to keep the good vibes going.

At the end of the night, she offers to drive Michael back to his apartment as a thank you for inviting her.

“Did you have fun?” Michael asks from the passenger seat as she pulls up in front of his building.

“Yeah, I did. I'm glad I changed my mind.”

“Me too. I didn't know you were this fun. You're nothing like I remember.”

“Yeah, I was kind of weird growing up. You guys probably thought there was something wrong with me. ”

“Nah, don't be so hard on yourself. We were all weird in our own way.”

“Uh-uh. No Michael Berzatto. You were the coolest guy back in the day, and you still are.”

“I don’t know about that,” he scoffs. “For the record… I never thought there was anything wrong with you.”

“You were probably the only one… Anyway, thank you for today. I know I said I didn't need this, but I guess I did.”

“You're welcome, Maybird. I'm glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Thanks for bringing me home,” he softly squeezes her arm before reaching for the handle to open the door.

“No problem.”

“You know you can call me if you ever miss your friends, y’know?” he throws casually.

“I uh…sure. I will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she echoes back as he pulls the handle and the door opens.

“Have a good night, Michael,” she says as he gets one foot on the pavement.

“You, too, sweetheart.”

He closes the door and vaguely waves as she sets the car in motion and watches her drive away.

Chapter 3: Don't cry over spilled milk

In the few weeks he's been spending time with Maya, Michael has found himself enjoying her company more than he'd like to admit. Being with her grounds him. She makes him forget for a little while all that's wrong in his life. She's like a beacon in that immerse darkness that his sorry existence has become. Despite having her own set of problems, he's watched her rise above all that with poise. He wonders what it's her secret to her steadfast determination, even when her own family has disavowed her.

After closing shop, he dives into his stash to tame that brewing headache before driving to Oak Park to pay her a visit. She told him earlier via text that she was at Home Depot buying some paint to update the color of her bedroom and asked him to come over to hang out after work.

For some reason, he couldn't say no. Not even the storm in his head is strong enough to deny her request. He has a pull on him, tugging him hard like a dog tied to a leash in her hand, he can’t help but follow her lead.

When he arrives at her house, she's halfway done. Two of the walls shine bright new in a lavender tone as she starts working on the next one.

After having beer and playing a tug of war game with his new friend, Coco, Michael offers his help to finish painting the walls. He uses a brush to paint the corners, while she gracefully uses a roller like a pro with her denim overalls over a tank top, and her raven hair pulled up in a ponytail sprinkled with lavender paint beads. When she lifts one of her arms, he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on the side of her rib cage, leveled to the roundness of her chest that looks like the outline of a dog paw.

“What are you looking at?” She asks after catching him staring.

“You have paint on your chin.”

“Oh.” She wipes it with the back of her hand, but she just spreads the stain along her jaw. “I made it worse, didn't I?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugs it off and continues with the task ahead until the whole wall is covered.

“Is everything okay, Bear?” Maya puts down the paint roller. “You're quieter than usual.”

“Yeah, everything's alright.” It sounds so honest, he almost believes it. “It's just been a long day.”

“I'm sorry that I put you to work.”

“Don't be. This is relaxing.”

“Yeah?” She takes a step back and surveys how much brighter her bedroom looks already after covering most of the former downcast grey. “Is the color right? Do you think it's too girlish?”

Giving the room a once over he says, “it's a good shade. I dig it. It doesn't matter what I think or if it's too girlish, as long as you like it. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I do.”

She dips the roller on the tray to cover another section of the wall.

“You never told me what happened at the funeral with your mom,” Michael leans on the stepladder, taking a short break.

“Do you really wanna know?” She glances over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Everyone does. I’ve heard some crazy stories about it. Thought I should get it straight from the source.”

“I never pegged you for a gossip girl.”

“I’m not. I’m just making conversation.”

She mockingly narrows her eyes, drawing a lopsided smirk, “liar.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. But yeah, can’t help being a little curious about it.”

“I don’t mind telling you, but it won’t be as entertaining as those crazy stories people have made up.”

“I’m not here for entertainment. I just wanna hear your side of the story, Maybird.”

Maya lets out a heavy sigh and while keeping her focus on the wall she shares with him what really happened. She’s right to say that is not the best story she’s ever told, though when it comes to her mother, all her stories tend to have a surreal element even she can’t fathom sometimes.

That day at the funeral, she was taken outside during the wake by Angela Silva to get scolded about her imminent divorce. It wasn’t finalized by then, and her mom invoked one last Hail Mary to convince her to stay with her husband, who was also currently dating someone else. It was a messy situation that Maya couldn't wait to get out of, and the fact that her mother never offered an ounce of support wasn’t surprising, but still devastating. Somehow, Angela found that the reason for her separation from her husband was that Maya didn’t want to have kids, and that really vexed Angela. All she wanted for her three kids was to follow the same traditional path Angela was forced into, no matter how miserable she was. Her two older sisters followed her mother’s narrowed traditional values. But Maya, ever-the-nonconformist, swore she would never follow anyone’s drum beat but her own. Her husband thought she’d change her mind eventually. He was wrong. She knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which led her here, to this moment.

“Is your mom ever happy?” Michael has always wondered.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happy, except when she’s drunk. That’s why she has to make everyone else miserable.”

“Yeah, but she’s always had a fixation on making you miserable.”

“Like I said, every family needs a black sheep, and I’m it.”

“Is that why you became a vet?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“So, it's true, you don’t wanna have kids? I’m not judging. I’m just curious.”

“I honestly don't know. I just knew that when he told me he wanted to have a baby right away, it didn’t feel right. I said that maybe in six or seven years I’d be okay with it. Told him I wanted to travel and just be us for a while, and he said that was too long to wait. I don’t know… he stopped talking to me, and it was clear that he wasn’t changing his mind, and I wasn’t changing my mind, so. At some point I got tired of trying… He got a girlfriend as soon as I filed for divorce and I got a text from Paige the other day that said he got her already pregnant, like… that was never me. I guess it served me right… I married him on a whim, an impulse without really talking about what we wanted…”

“Hey, don’t feel sorry for yourself. You dodged a bullet there.”

“You really think that?.”

“Yeah, I do. You stood up for yourself and knew when to step back when it didn’t feel right. Not everyone has the balls to do that. Think how miserable you’d be by now if you had tried to please him or your mom. You seem happy now. That's what matters.” He means that with all his heart, and wishes he had the same drive to follow those same steps. As much as he loved the restaurant, he chose to run it to please people within his family. And that love turned into a nightmare he couldn't escape.

“You know… I liked you better when you were quiet,” she quips.

Michael huffs a soft laugh, picking up his brush to resume painting.

When the room is finished, she plugs a couple of fans and closes the door to keep Coco away.

Maya washes her hands and face in the bathroom sink. When she comes out, she catches the motion of Michael's arm as he shoves what looks like a pill into his mouth before taking a gulp of water from one of her glasses.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It's just a headache,” looking down, he runs a palm over his short growing beard.

“Is it the fumes?”

“No, I had it before coming here.”

“Michael,” she sighs softly at his name. “You should've told me. I wouldn't have let you help if I knew.”

“Would you stop that? I wanted to help.”

“Okay, c'mere. Let's sit down.”

“No, I think I should get going.”

“Nonsense. I'm not going to let you drive until you feel better.”

He yields with a long exhale, and follows Maya into the living room, where her bed is settled askew in the middle of the space.

She takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and waits for him to sit next to her.

“Give me your hand,” she shows her palm up, as his eyes narrow. “C'mon, don't be a baby, give me your hand, Berzatto.”

“When did you become so bossy?” He slowly lifts his hand and as he lays it on top of her palm, his fingers tremble upon contact with her skin. Maya then uses her opposite hand to clip the webbing between his thumb and pointer fingers with her own and begins massaging that spot.

“My friend Sierra is really into acupressure. She says this is a pressure point that helps with headaches.” She explains while slowly increasing the force. “Does it hurt?”

“Not one bit. Is that like acupuncture?” His voice comes as a whisper as he focuses on her diligent fingers.

“Kinda. I think. I’m not really sure.”

“You don't have to fix me, you know?”

“I'm not trying to fix you, Bear. I just wanna make you feel better.”

“Admit it. You just love a good wounded animal.”

She smiles softly, placing his hand down on his knee and picking up the other. “Does it feel any different?”

He’s not really sure, it wasn’t truly a headache that led them to take that pill but the annoying rambling of his thoughts. She shouldn’t have seen that. And he shouldn’t have lied. But having her hands on his like this is straight up lovely. Inside of him, it truly feels like something is broken, wounded, and missing, and this is giving him a sliver of relief as he waits for the pill to kick in. If he was a better man, he’d tell her the truth. But he’s too far gone for saving. All he can do is keep that facade up.

“Does it?” She insists after not getting an answer.

“A little.”

“Do you wanna lay down?”

Swallowing, he responds with a nod, and they both lean back on the mattress at the same time. Looking at the ceiling, she keeps kneading that pressure point, unsure if she’s even doing it right.

They stay in comfortable silence for a good five minutes and when she finally places his hand down, Maya glances to the side and sees that his eyes have closed, and his chest gently rising and falling. She calls his name softly, but she can see that behind the sharp edges of his face and the ever-growing shade of his beard, he’s truly exhausted, so she doesn’t insist. She extends her hand to turn off the lamp, and curls on the other side of the bed without disturbing his sleep.

“Good night,” she says softly and closes her eyes.

From a dusty corner of her mind comes crawling that little forgotten part that used to harbor a lot of feelings for Michael. Though a few weeks ago he seemed practically the same Michael she knew, over the past month she’s keenly noticed little changes here and there. His eyes sometimes cast a dark shade tainted in nothing but sadness, it’s barely noticeable for other people. It comes and goes, but it tells her he’s not truly as happy as he pretends to be.

Michael wakes up disoriented at the crack of dawn.

It takes him a few seconds to remember he’s still in Mayas’ bed in the middle of her living room and that the weight that has his arm pinned is her body pressed against his. She’s warmly snuggled on his side, with her arms tucked between his chest and hers, and a peaceful expression on her beautiful face. She’s so awfully close, he can smell the scent of her hair, and feel the heat of her breath every time she exhales.

It's such an odd moment for him to have her that close. He's unsure of whether it would be better to slip out of bed unnoticed before she wakes up, or just stay there and watch her sleep for a bit longer. Either option would make him look like a creep, he thinks. So he opts to gently wake her up. His free hand reaches to his forehead to move a stand of hair away. Her brow scrunches as his light-feather touch grazes her skin. His lips curve up as he traces the shell of her ear to see her stir awake. She blinks slowly a couple of times until her focus shifts onto him.

“Hey, Maybird.”

“Hey.” Her lips move, it's barely audible.

“Sorry, I fell asleep.” His fingers absentmindedly massage her earlobe.

She's so stunned by waking up to that level of intimacy, she simply nods, as her mouth softly draws a smile.

“It's fine. Does your head feel better?”

“Much better. That pressure thing really worked.”

“I'm glad.”

“Listen, I gotta go open. Maybe we could do something later?”

“Okay,” she swallows nervously, hoping that waking up with him like this isn't just a dream. “Can you do me a favor first?”

“Sure.”

“Can you stay five more minutes?”

“I uh… I think I can,” against his better judgment, he decides he can stay for a few minutes more holding her.

The way her lips pull up timidly at the corners, revealing the dimples framing her mouth, completely disarms him. He’s always felt a certain affinity towards her, but being this close to her awakes a longing within that feels dangerous. He can’t bring someone new into his life. Not while everything around him is falling apart. It’s already hard enough having to pretend around other people.

He couldn’t do that to her. He won’t.

Michael will have to fight harder because when her arm tucks around his waist he can’t help but press his lips against her forehead.

Chapter 4: Hard nut to crack

Four months later…

After that initial moment of weakness when he fell asleep on her bed, he fought hard to elude that odd longing that has only grown into a big mass of love toward Maya. To anyone else in the world, a feeling as big as that would be a blessing, especially when it's reciprocated. To Michael, it's a weakness he can't afford right now.

Spending all that time with Maya has been like discovering a whole new planet Michael never thought existed. She's all vast, uncharted territory that fazes him more than it should. Despite his best efforts, he’s fallen into her alluring orbit and can’t find the way out into his own universe.

Far gone is that moody teenager that would mumble a few words here and there. And now there's this tragically stunning woman that looks you directly in the eye, says anything that crosses her mind, and laughs without a care in the world.

Though falling in love with her wouldn’t be completely wrong, it's not quite right either. It fills him with guilt to think about her in that manner. Moreover, it feels like a betrayal to Carmy, who’s far away in a different continent, prospering in his craft.

Michael tries to fool himself into believing that this is just temporary infatuation. He’s even attempted several times to convince her to get in touch with Carmy but hasn’t succeeded. It’d be easier for him if she were to put her focus on someone else instead of him. He has nothing to offer to her and has deemed himself unworthy of her, or anyone for that matter. If she only knew what’s really going on with him, she wouldn’t want Michael nearly as she believes she does.

Layer by layer, she’s tearing all his walls and defenses down. And after all the back and forth, he's absolutely sure she wants more than he can offer her. She’s been giving him the right signals. She doesn't shy away from it. Maya is direct and impulsive, and everything about her is fascinating and intimidating.

It’s time to either cut her loose, or accept that he’s madly in love with her and do something about it.

Amidst coming to terms with a final decision, he's lured into a surprise party she's organized for his birthday.

Michael is left speechless by her determination. And a little annoyed too for reasons he can't explain. To be honest, he’s never been a fan of surprise parties, but the main problem is that this would make things much harder for him to let her down easily. She’s carved herself into his life and the longer he drags this out, the worse this is going to hurt.

He’s aware that it’s selfish and obtuse of him for being that ungrateful that someone who cares that profoundly about him, that they would go all out to prove that. He feels like an asshole, but the train has already left the station.

Using the same tiring self-defense mechanism, he draws his best smile and brings out the Michael everyone seems to love. Not without help. There's always that crutch tucked in his wallet in the form of a pill. Being high numbs him enough to deal with the situation.

The cherry on top comes at the end of the night, when he walks her up to her car and asks if he's had a good time. He lies through his teeth and for the first time, he can tell Maya is not buying it. Perhaps she never did, but he's well-versed on her tells by now, and he can clearly see she's fed up with all the bullshit that comes out of his mouth.

“Look, it's not that I didn't like the party. It's just that I hate surprises, and I was exhausted today. But it was a nice thought, sweetheart. I just… I wasn't in the right mood.” It's seemingly convincing the second time around, but her face shows nothing but regret. “I love the jacket you bought me, though.”

Michael has never been interested in fashion, but he's always loved vintage jackets, and the one she picked it's a perfect addition to his collection. It's a bomber jacket, aviator style, in brown leather with a couple of patches and fur collar.

As they reach Maya's car, they come to a stop. She turns to him, “I know I can be a little too much sometimes. But I promise no more surprises from now on.”

“You and I both know, you won’t be able to keep that promise even if your life depended on it. That's part of what makes you– you, sweetheart. Don’t let my bad mood ruin that.”

“I’ll try.”

After a beat, without hesitation she leans in to leave a goodnight kiss on his bearded cheek and on a whim, she decides to press a second one on his lips.

It takes him completely aback. He wants to dive so badly into her mouth, but he freezes on the spot. And when Maya attempts to deepen the kiss, he finally reacts by placing a placating hand on her shoulder as he pulls his head back.

“I'm… I'm sorry we can't do this, Maya.”

“Wait, I thought… Did I misread something?”

“No, you didn’t misread anything. I just can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“I can't.”

“You can't or don’t want to?”

“Guess I don’t want to.”

“Can you at least tell me why? Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.” He wants to spill out the old – it's not you, it's me – excuse, but he refrains. Every thought and action go against every good instinct he's ever had. He hates himself for making her feel insecure. And yet, he can't backtrack now.

“Stop calling me sweetheart. You see how misleading that is?”

“Sorry. I think I gave you the wrong impression.”

Her eyes narrow, and he can see the gears turning for a long moment before opening her mouth.

“I don't think you gave me the wrong impression, Michael. I think you're too chickenshit to admit that there's something between us and, for whatever reason, you're just taking the coward's way out. You've been weird the whole night, especially with me. I just threw a party just for you, the least you can do is tell me why.”

“I didn't ask you to do that. And I don't owe telling you shit! I was trying to let you go easy, but nothing is ever easy with you. So I'll just say it. This, you and me, is never going to happen.”

It sounds ridiculous as it comes out of his mouth, but he stands firm on that statement as her heart breaks in front of him.

In the end, it'd be better for her, he believes.

[ramiecutesy22]

I illustrated 100 ASoIaF Characters

" A Song of Ice and Fire" is a series that has become rather (in)famous for its depictions of violence, and abundance of s3x scenes .and while criticism can definitely be made for these, it's important that we dont end up overlooking the important life lessons, nor end up with wrong takeaways from the story.

you see, at its very heart , i believe ASOIAF is a story of the human experience, as well as a commentary about the twisted ways of this world ( set within a fantasy backdrop). being caught in the middle of loyalties, ambition, Reputation, vengeance, culture, faith, and familial acceptance . its themes like this along with complex and relatable characters that youll pity and root for in one scene, only for you to be appalled by and flinch at in the next scene, is what i find so appealing in this series.

Spectacle, Political Intrigue and Character Drama (all present in the story too btw) aside , its a story that really makes you think ,reflect , and learn upon. and i love it for that!

so today , i just wanna show my appreciation to arguably the best aspect of this series: The Characters . for over a year now, i have made fanart for 100 characters from the series. some are major pov characters. some iterally appear for only 1 chapter. but all help bring so much depth and color to this story!

special thanks to:

@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly . your blog has been such a HUGE in help giving me inspiration and references for design and clothing . i also appreciate you reblogging art from fellow asoiaf artist to help give them a boost

@amuelia , i really love your design for Areo, and it was actually the basis for art for him! its only fitting that i give you credit

@whoknowsnugget . i was having a haaaard time coming up a pose for Asha when i first designed her, it wasnt until i saw your own fanart for her ( the one with her arms crossed while holding axes) that i finally found a fitting pose for her. because it was such a huge help, i figured i should give you credit as well!

@buildoblivionthenwewilltalk for being with the journey since last year!

and @squidprinceofwinterfell too, who is my other fellow asoiaf pal from tumblr!

..............................................................................................................................

i really hope yall like this one! i know this may really come off as unexpected, but ive actually liked asoiaf since 2018! ( with a massive revival of interest starting late 2022). as for THAT show, i have yet to watch an actual full episode yet hehe.

as for my account, let this be considered my proper comeback after months of inactivity. this project of mine played a large chunk for my absence, because i frequently get artblock coming up with a new post for every new character i make.

#asongoficeandfire #asoiafart

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and Cream

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word Count: 5.6

Notes: Remember when I was a whole ass chump and posted this on the wrong day? Anyway here's 8 for you. This is especially dedicated to @scaramou

Episode 8: It's Party Time

Eddie stands in front of his mirror, carefully looking over his body. There are scars and bruises, and the occasional stretch mark. But damn is he proud of it, and he doesn’t want to sound too vain but he knows you are too. He winks at himself, doing little finger guns and hyping himself up 

“Whaaat are you doing??” You stand behind him in the doorway and he freezes in his tracks, his cheeks flushing immediately 

“Uhhh… being sexy?” He turns to you and shrugs and you snort, walking over to him and putting your arms around his waist 

“Yeah okay, I’ll accept that. What are you gonna wear?” 

He puts his arms around you, kisses you softly, and then looks toward his closet

“I have no idea… usually Buck wants to match with these kinds of things and… I kinda wanna match with you?” 

Your cheeks flush and you stand on your toes, kissing his cheek 

“That’s really cute”

“Yeahhh I know,” He says in a playful voice, picking you up and spinning you around. He kisses you and drops you down on the bed. 

“Eddie!!” You laugh as he climbs over you and settles between your legs “We’re supposed to be getting ready!” 

“I say we skip the party and go straight to dessert” he growls in your ear, tugging at the waistband of your skirt 

“Eddie Diaz! We promised we’d be there! You know how much tonight means to Bobby and Athena” 

“But this means so much to me” He has a big ole pout on his lips as he smothers you, holding you tightly in his arms 

“It’s their anniversary,” you say, pushing at his chest, but he’s not budging. He’s heavy and warm against you and it’s making you way too complacent just like he knows it does 

“It’s our anniversary too you know” He mumbles into your neck and you pull his face away from you, holding it in your hands 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s been four months since the day we first met” 

Your mouth drops open and you let go of his face 

“You’re lying” 

His cheeks flush and he smirks, getting off of you 

“It is. You walked into the station on a Monday, all pretty in pink. God, I still remember your perfume” he walks to the closet, pulling out a white dress shirt 

“You kept track of that?” You ask, sitting up and looking at him, he puts on the shirt, looking over at you as he adjusts the collar 

“Of course I did, Sugar Cube. It’s not every day you meet the woman you lo-” he pauses for a second, holding the collar in his hands 

“Uh…really like. And you know eventually, take six hundred years to date and drive her cousin insane to the point he sends you random death threats in the middle of the night”

“He did what??” You laugh as you climb out of his bed and walk over to him, slowly buttoning his shirt for him 

“Yeah Buck literally sent me so many death threats after we would hang out and we’d tell him all the details” Eddie chuckles quietly as he watches your hands “Wish you were taking it off” 

“Well… I promise to take it off tonight okay? After the party”

“You’re at Buck’s tonight,” he says softly as he wraps his arms around your waist 

“If you think for one second I’m not going home with you tonight” You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks, bending down and kissing you, it’s heated and demanding and it takes every bone in your body to pull away from him 

“You wanna call up your cousin and tell him that because the last time I took you home with me I also got death threats” 

You walk away from him, purposely swaying your hips dramatically and he wolf whistles as you bend over to pick up your phone 

“Time to plan our outfits” 

Buck shows up at 6:30, right on time. Which is surprising but this is for Bobby and Athena he’s not gonna be late. He unlocks the door, comes in, and walks straight back to Eddie’s bedroom 

He slams the door open and you shriek, nearly flying off of Eddie 

“Are we wearing blue or not?!” Buck yells, completely ignoring Eddie scrambling to get his clothes back on and you diving off the bed 

“Did you not get my text?!” Eddie yells back at him, holding his pants over his crotch 

“Oh…wait hold on'' he pulls out his phone, scrolling for a second “Haha oh here it is. Yeah okay, we’re wearing blue, uh i'm gonna go change in the other room. Hurry up! We don’t wanna be late!”

Eddie helps you out of the car, holding your hand in his. You step down from the Jeep, your heels clicking on the pavement as you step away and Eddie shuts the door 

“You ready?” He asks as Buck comes around the car, fixing his lapel and handing Eddie one of the present boxes 

“Let’s do this” He winks and you roll your eyes playfully but walk ahead of them, they follow behind you on both sides, Eddie watches your feet, watching each step you take in those ridiculously high heels. They were stunning but he was so scared you were going to break your neck walking across the stones 

He should know better

You toss your hair over your shoulder as you walk and he nearly melts right there, your perfume caressing his face and leaving soft kisses in its wake 

You knock on the door, holding your clutch in front of you. Bobby opens the door after a minute and you smile sweetly 

“Happy Anniversary!” You three say together as he lets you in 

“Thank you, thank you” He points at Buck “and thank you” 

You kiss his cheek as he takes your coat, and points you to the champagne 

“You guys help yourselves,” He says, as Buck hugs him and pats his back 

“Is there anything we can do? It’s your party” Eddie says, putting one hand in his pocket and his arm around your waist 

“Yeah! I can take coats and answer the door for you” Buck says, watching Bobby grab a hanger for your coat 

“We have a room for the coats, but yours is too nice to go in there” He smiles as he hangs it in the hall closet for you 

“Oh, that’s not necessary! Really” you tell him but he’s already done it anyway 

“It’s no trouble, trust me. Buck, it would be helpful if you answered the door, thank you”

“Anything for you Dad” Buck pats his shoulders and turns to open the door for another couple coming up the walk 

“You two come with me” He waves you along and you both follow behind him. Eddie smiles a little as you take his hand from your waist and lead him along. 

You make it to the kitchen and he wraps both his arms around your waist this time 

“You look so pretty baby” He whispers in your ear, kissing your cheek and you giggle, trying to pull his hands apart 

“Behave Eddie” You scold him playfully and he pouts, nuzzling into your neck 

“Oh you guys are disgusting,” Chim says as he finishes plating little Hors d’œuvres, which Buck affectionately calls “Horse Divorce” and you stick your tongue out at him 

“You all wanted us together and now you can’t handle it” Eddie sticks his tongue out and you giggle, Chimney throws a tiny piece of salmon at you and you shriek, dodging it and shoving Eddie in the way. Eddie’s mouth drops open and he picks up the little piece, trying to throw it at you as you run out of the kitchen to find Bobby to see what he needs you to do. 

“So have you guys… you know…” Chimney asks Eddie as they set out more champagne glasses together and Eddie freezes 

Okay that took a 180°

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Eddie looks at him, a deep blush on his cheeks 

“Hey, I’m just asking the real questions, okay? We just have a bet on when you guys are gonna do it and I want to know if I’m winning” 

“You guys bet on our first time?!” 

“So you have?” Hen asks as she walks in, her arm around Karen’s waist 

“Oh my god- No. No, we haven’t… we keep like… almost? Doing it? And each time we’re interrupted or… it’s just not the right time. Which brings up the real question which is when is the right time?” 

“You’ll know when it is Eddie” Karen smiles softly “Why are you two thinking about it so much?”

Eddie sighs and wipes off one of the glasses with a towel. Chimney leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest, this has definitely turned into a mini therapy/ advice session. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I just… I get so in my head you know?? What if I’m not good at it?? What if she fakes it? Oh god what if she has to fake an orgasm” 

“Okay, pump the brakes. We’ve all had to fake it once or twice Eddie, it’s not gonna happen each time” Hen reassures him, rubbing his arm 

“Sometimes it’s nice just to be with the person you love” Chimney adds and Eddie rears back a little, scoffing 

“Okay- no- I- I don’t love her just yet. We just got together!” 

Chimney's mouth falls open and Hen groans loudly, throwing her hands in the air 

“First the “we’re just friends” Now you’re denying you’re in love?!!” 

“Hen you know me, I don’t. I don’t fall in love. I mean don’t get me wrong I like Y/N! I really really like her! I wouldn’t mind you know spending an…. An undetermined amount of time with her”

“Did you seriously just say til death do you part” Karen starts helping set up the champagne glasses because Chimney has full-on left the kitchen to go find Maddie and rant to her about this 

“You’re all way too involved in my love life” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head 

“Your “what” life Eddie?” Hen asks and he rolls his eyes

Buck comes in a few minutes later as they’re all chatting about nothing 

“You ready to square up?” Buck asks as he walks in, rolling his sleeves up and undoing his tie 

“What? Why??” 

“Because a little damn birdy told me that a certain dumbass doesn’t think he’s in love. I did not watch you two idiots pine for months only for you to get together and say haha we’re not in love” 

“So.” Buck drops his tie on the counter “Square the fuck up, Diaz” 

“Why is Buck staring at you like he wants to kill you?” 

You’re standing a bit hidden away from the party as Buck glares at the back of Eddie’s head. It’s been a couple of hours since you got there and things are in full swing. There’s lots of laughter and loud voices and you’re starting to get a little overwhelmed. He turns around for a second, smiling at Buck as widely as he can and then going back to you 

“Uhhh it’s nothing” He rubs your arms while leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours “You doin' okay?” 

You smile softly, shrugging “S’pose so…but maybe-��

“You wanna go for a walk around the block? Take a little break?” His voice is so cute and so soft with the way he asks you and you blush 

“Took the words right outta my mouth” 

“Go out front, I’m gonna let Bobby know where we’re going” 

You do as he says, going to Buck first to let him know too who growls a “whatever” at you, which just makes you snort over whatever the hell those two have gotten into now and go outside. 

It’s 10 times quieter already, and definitely cooler now that the sun has set. The front door opens and Eddie comes out, shutting it behind him 

He looks really handsome at this time of night. 

He looks really handsome at any time of day really. 

He reaches out for your hand “Shall we? Gorgeous” you blush as you accept his hand and he leads you off down the path to the sidewalk 

“I was just thinking about how good you look right now, what a coincidence” You joke and he smirks, pulling you into his side and putting his arm over your shoulders. You cuddle into his side, wrapping your arm around his waist and putting your hand on his chest as you walk together 

Intimacy is nice when you’re dating. 

Dating. 

Finally, 

“We’re like, the sexiest couple ever I can see why you’d be thinking about how good I look, look even better with you on my arm” Eddie jokes and you giggle before pulling away from him suddenly to skip forward a little and kick a rock 

“You feelin' any better? Know we can’t go home yet… so hopefully this is okay'' He watches you, kicking along your rock, and smiles a little 

You’re cute he’ll give you that 

“Yeah kinda, man they sure know a lot of people” 

“I’ll say…” he steps forward a little faster than you and kicks the rock and you chase after it, kicking it again. You spend the next few minutes, taking turns kicking the rock down the sidewalk together, you hold hands, pulling the other ahead as you go

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eddie asks as he takes his turn and you nod, happily coming to the rock 

“We’re-“ He kicks it “ We’re like-“ kick 

“Not in love right?” 

You kick it a little further this time, stopping when he tries to pull you with him. You stare at him, and he gulps quietly, stopping in his tracks 

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to phrase it  and why does it make him feel all gross inside to even say it 

“I mean-“ You start, awkwardly gesturing as you let go of his hand and he feels that loss of contact 

“Isn’t it a bit soon to be asking that??” 

Oh, thank god you were on the same page.

The same. Stupid. Freaking. Page. 

“That’s what I was saying!!” Eddie sounds so relieved when he says “How could we know?! We just got together!!” 

“Exactly!!” You practically shout and he steps back over to you, cupping your face and kissing you playfully 

“I mean of course I love you, you're my best friend! But like I don’t know if I love you you know what I mean”

“I know exactly what you mean!” You sound just as relieved as he does 

And somewhere, in the distance, Buck feels a chill up his spine. Another six months of insanity. He almost crushes his champagne glass in his hand. 

You and Eddie continue kicking your rock, like two happy little lovesick idiots. You kick it down the sidewalk, holding hands again, giggling and talking about just different things, and all the way back up as you head back to the party. Once you get to the bottom of the driveway you grab the rock and stuff it in Eddie’s pocket 

“Keep Jorge safe please” 

“You named it?” He chuckles as he pulls you into the house again, the party is still loud but it’s not like it was. You feel better now, a moment alone with Eddie was all you needed. 

Pretty much all you ever need really. 

Eddie avoids Buck for a good hour or so before Bobby legitimately grabs them by the ears and drags them into the kitchen. 

“What the hell is going on” he puts his hands on his hips. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable!” 

“We are not!!” They say in unison before glaring at each other 

“You are. This is my anniversary and I’m not letting your frosty asses ruin it. Now tell me what happened”

“Eddie doESn’T lOVe Y/N” Buck says in a stupid voice and Eddie nearly shoves him 

“Are you kidding me?” Bobby says under his breath 

“We aren’t ready to take that step!! We just got together like a week ago!” 

“No! You got to- dad?!?!” Buck gestures at Eddie and Bobby sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose 

“Buck, Evan. You cannot force your dumbass of a brother-“

“Hey!”

“To admit he’s clearly in love-”

“Oh my god I’m-“

“And Edmundo. You can’t be mad at Buck for wanting the best for you and his cousin. He loves you both more than anything and just wants to see you together okay? Now come on, let’s hug it out”

“No I hate him” Buck turns away from Eddie with his arms crossed 

“Are you actually fucking five” Eddie growls turning away from Buck and Bobby turns them both back to each other 

“Hug and makeup or you’re both on dish duty for the next three months. And then? Bathroom duty for another three” 

“Bestie!” Buck opens his arms 

“Brother!” Eddie hugs him tightly

Buck does actually hug him back, sighing into his shoulder and Eddie sighs back. 

“Bestie” he mumbles and Buck nods 

“Brothers”

Bobby steers them back towards the party, and their making up leads to your being left alone on a couch with one leg crossed over the other as you sip a glass of champagne, watching them definitely get drunk and become the life of the party. You set your glass down opting for water now because it’s very clear you’ll be driving home tonight 

“Mind if I sit there?” 

A tall… very tall. The man asks about the couch cushion next to you and you shrug, patting it. If he’s at Bobby and Athena’s party he’s definitely okay. 

“Tommy” He offers his hand and you smile, shaking it 

“Y/N!” 

His eyes light up for a minute, and he nods slowly “Oh! It’s nice to meet you… you’re..? Buck’s cousin right?” 

“That’s me” You turn to him a little and he puts his arm around the back of the couch. He seems pretty chill actually, even if his sheer size is a bit intimidating. He doesn’t really give off that he’s trying to pick you up. 

“So where have you been hiding all party?” You giggle a little “Because I’m sorry but you’re kinda hard to miss!” He chuckles and nods along with you 

“I actually just got here a little bit ago, work kept me late”

“Oh, where do you work?” 

“Ah… used to be at the 118” he smiles “Old friend of Bobby’s” 

“Another firefighter” you giggle “I should have known” 

“Actually I’m a pilot right now for the LAFD”

Your mouth drops open and he chuckles a little, there’s the Buckley resemblance 

“That’s the coolest thing ever!!!” 

“Why thank you, little lady”

“Baby!! Baby pay attention to me!!” Eddie waves to get your attention and you look over at him, you’re not even sure when his shirt got opened but it did. 

Not that you’re complaining 

“It’s our favorite!!” He yells and you snort 

“I’m listening!! Go!” 

“Spice up Your Life” by the Spice Girls blares through the speakers as Eddie and Buck sing along, dancing together and everyone cheers for them. Every time Buck points the mic at you, you scream the backups for them. 

Tommy leans over, sipping his drink to hide his laughter 

“Do they?…”

“Have an entire choreographed dance? Yes” 

Tommy offers to drive you guys home and you eagerly accept his help. He easily holds Buck and Eddie up, the three of them staggering down the walkway slowly as you run ahead and open up the car doors. He hands you Eddie who you try to get buckled in the front seat but he wants to get handsy. He keeps pulling your hands away and kissing them, kissing down your arms and pulling you into him to kiss your neck 

“Eddie, baby come on- no- no put your hands down baby” You’re giggling your way through it as he’s whining and reaching for you. 

Tommy is not having much luck either and your eyes go wide, as you peek over to the side like…hold up watchu mean he too is having a hard time uhh?? 

“You wanna switch?” You sigh as you give up and Tommy chuckles, stepping back 

“Definitely” 

You go to the backseat and Buck is pouting, refusing to sit up in the seat 

“Hi” you poke his thigh and he looks over at you “It’s meeee,” you say in a singsong voice and he looks away from you 

“Come on, Bucky bear. You gotta get your seatbelt on” 

He relaxes his arms, letting out a breath as he laughs 

“Jesus, you haven’t called me that since we were kids”

“Did it work?” You smirk and he smiles sitting up and swaying right into your arms and almost toppling over out of the car. You yelp and push him back in so he’s sitting up. 

You can hear the radio turning on and off, and the air conditioning turning on for a moment. Buck needed to get his car checked out, and he was not gonna be happy considering how new it was. 

“Yeah it worked” He pats your head lovingly as you buckle him in and he places a little kiss on your forehead 

“I love you, Y/N I hope you know that”

“Of course, I know that” You smile at him softly “I love you too Bucky Bear” 

The passenger side of the car door opens and Tommy is literally carrying Eddie. He sets him in back and you cover your mouth with both hands as you try not to laugh 

“Trust me when I tell you, he does not need to sit up front” 

He gets him buckled in and you both get in the front, Tommy helps you in and closes your door, coming around the front of the car to get in 

“He’s such a gentleman” Buck sighs dreamily and Eddie laughs at him, singing “Buck and Tommy sitting in a tree” Buck shushes him so loudly, shaking him and trying to get him to shut up

“What are you guys doing??” Tommy asks as soon as he opens the door 

“Nothing!” They both stop, Buck's hands still around Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s hands on his arms 

“Yeah…okay” he gets in the car and starts adjusting things for himself and even you have to fix a couple of things 

“Eddie was messing with stuff wasn’t he”

“Yup” 

“Snitch!” Eddie pouts from the backseat and you laugh as you finish putting things back in order. 

“Oh, what about your car?” You ask and Tommy shrugs “I can get it tomorrow. Let’s just get you home” 

Tommy is literally the sweetest person in the entire world and you’re convinced you’ll never meet anyone nicer than he is. 

He stops at Mcdonald's and gets “the children” chicken nugget meals to try and sober them up a bit which both men devour, you however devour yours like a lady and both Buck and Eddie steal a couple of your nuggets each, you watch Bucks hand creep around the seat and after the fourth time slapping his hand away you just hold it up to him to “steal”

Tommy gives you one of his cheeseburgers. 

It’s almost two in the morning by the time you reach Eddie’s house and Tommy helps you bring him in. He’s mostly quiet now, it’s not stopping his raging hard-on, but he’s more coherent now and even thanks Tommy for making sure you got home safe 

“Do you want me to come with you? I can help” you offer as you stand at the door and he shakes his head

“No- no you get to bed, honey. I can take him home and get him into bed”

You hug Tommy, squeezing him a bit tightly

“Thanks for everything, maybe we can have coffee one day!” 

“I’ll have Bobby give me your number, I’d love that” he hugs you back and pets your hair nicely before turning to leave. 

You watch as he drives away, Giving him a little wave and shutting the door. You shut off all the lights and head back to Eddie’s room to get ready for bed

There was a reason, that Eddie always pinned you to the bed, grinding down on you and watching that pretty face of yours twist in pleasure 

He just wished he’d remembered it sooner, but his brain was still a bit foggy.  

He can barely look at you, your dress is trapped around your waist, hiked up and pulled down at the same time. You’ve even still got your heels on and that is something he really… really likes. 

He can’t remember how it even started. He's so delirious by the way you’re on top of him, rocking your hips down on his cock. He doesn’t even remember when he took off his pants (Tommy took them off earlier for him before he absolutely peed them and made a mess for you) 

Okay, so it started with you jokingly asking for help removing your boob tape, and then… then somehow your nipple ended up in his mouth as he pinned you to the sink. And he’s sure that he had you right there, putting you up on it and rolling his tongue around the hard little nub 

Right okay, and then he picked you up and brought you into the bedroom where he did have you on your back! Enjoying your soft little mewls and the way you ran your fingers through his hair. 

So when…?

Oh. 

Oh yeah. 

He bit down and you cried out, bucking your hips into his, and then you started whining, pleading, and panting for any sort of friction… and he made the stupid mistake of not giving it to you, teasing you even. 

So you pushed him away, getting up and pulling him by his tie onto the bed and that got him good and he was putty in your hands as he watched you frantically hike your dress up over your hips and push him down on the bed, climbing on top of him. 

He couldn’t help his hands automatically finding your hips and grinding you down on him. He should have flipped you, he knows now he really should have. But how could he when you leaned forward, capturing his lips and taking off his tie? Kissing his neck and his jaw as you unbuttoned his shirt. His hands left your hips long enough to pull the shirt off his arms

He should have known better, and he was an idiot for drinking that much. The second you planted your hands firmly on his strong, bare chest and rolled your hips achingly slow. 

He’s never seen you look so damn pretty. 

“Take your dress off” 

It’s more of a plead than a demand because if you get off of him right now he can last more than two minutes. You look down at him and he looks absolutely blissed out 

Oh so this is what he always sees from this angle, no wonder he likes to pin you. You give him his brief little respite and slide off of him for a moment walking over to the closet and shimmying your dress down, you go to pull off your heels and he stops you 

“Keep them on?” 

He could have added at least 15 more seconds had he let you take them off… 

But what’s 15 more seconds gonna do if he only lasts three minutes? He might as well fully enjoy himself. You walk back towards the bed slowly, seductively. Your heels click with every step and he gulps quietly 

Hell he could finish right now hands-free 

You climb back onto the bed, straddling his hips and settling down on him. He’s rock hard underneath you and you giggle, grinding your hips a couple of times to tease him 

“You better quit it or I’m definitely not gonna make it” His voice is so raspy and strained 

“You know it’s kind of a compliment, I turn you on so much you can’t last longer than a couple minutes” You lean forward, placing your palm on top of your hand and laying your head on them. You tease him, rolling your hips in little circles, and his breath hitches 

“Bet you wanna see me ride it” you whisper and his hips buck up against yours 

“More than anything” he moans while grinding his cock up against you 

“Too bad we agreed… no sex..” your voice trails off and he stops, raising an eyebrow 

“Why did we agree to that again?” 

“Fuck if I know right now” you sigh, honestly thinking hard about it and his hands get tighter on your hips as he ruts into you, he’s so desperate for you and you’re just laying there toying with him, twirling your finger around a strand of his hair 

He stops your hips, looking into your eyes, and bites his lip

“You tell me to fuck you and I will sweetheart”

You sit up again, wobbling a little before steadying yourself and you can’t help it, grabbing his hands from your hips and placing them right onto your chest. He sits up with you now, grinning wickedly and massaging your tits for a second. They’re so warm and heavy in his hands, he feels his cock twitch as he strokes his hand over them, pulling them together and admiring them like they’re a perfect work of art 

And oh boy are they 

He presses his face into them now and you snort, holding his head to your chest. He places sloppy kisses all over them before taking your nipple into his mouth again, moaning around it while his tongue circles your hard little nub. He places his hand on your lower back and pulls you down with him so he’s lying on his back again 

“Eddie I’m gonna smother you” you giggle as he keeps sucking, his hand caressing your other breast and pinching your nipple 

“Fuck, please do baby girl. I don’t need to breathe when I’ve got you like this” 

“There’s something I haven’t told you” You whisper and he doesn’t care what it is, do you have a tail? He could work with that. Maybe you secretly have a twin, and right now in this raunchy moment he could really work with that 

“What’s that hm? Waited until I got nice and pussy drunk huh? Well, that hardly seems fair…” 

He switches nipples now, rubbing the other between his fingers as he sucks on his one, he absolutely plans on leaving hickeys all over your perfect breasts 

“I’m not ready,” you say quietly, and he looks up at you, lewdly sucking on your tits 

“That’s fine,” he says seriously, pulling away for a second. “I am… very content with this”

“I don’t want to be half drunk f-for my first time” 

He nods slowly and smiles  “Yea I understand baby our first time is important to us” 

“No Eddie- my first time.”

Oh?

…Ohhh…

Shit. That’s hot. 

Eddie can see the clear uneasiness on your face and he just shrugs, going right back to what he was doing 

“Okay, I’ll be slow when we do baby girl” Is all he says, like it doesn’t really mean anything to him at this moment, and like he said, he’s perfectly content with what you’re doing 

“Y-you’re not mad?” He can feel your hips twitch a little, like they’re itching to move again and he gladly helps you with this, putting his hand on your hip and coaxing it along to those deep rolls he likes so much 

“Why the hell would I be mad? I get to be my girlfriend’s first time, sounds fun to me” You feel his lips moving against your tits as he talks like he doesn’t want to part from you even to reassure you. 

“Just wanna know how you got so good at this” he taps your hips and you blush deeply, getting back into the rhythm of things 

“P-pillows” you say quietly and he groans, bucking his hips against yours 

“Oh honey, we’re using this to our advantage”

Eddie listens to your moans- your virgin moans. You know he never would have guessed it? But this brings a whole new can of worms to your first time together… and he knows he can handle himself, he knows he can go slowly. He just doesn’t know if he’s gonna be able to last. 

It’s a privilege to be your first time really, someone so pretty, so smart, so gorgeous…and you’re all his. 

What a lucky man he is. 

He doesn’t realize he zoned out, ironically thinking about your first time together until he hears that soft little pant of his name, 

“Eddie, oh god, Eddie” You cry and he loses it, fuck he wanted to last longer but how could he when he’s watching your tits bounce in his face and you’re saying his name like a mantra while your body shakes as you’re cumming over his cock. He feels your hips speed up and he matches your pace with his own, moaning your name. 

“Fuck baby fuck just like that” He gasps, his breaths ragged as he feels your clit slide up and down his cock 

Oh, he can see it now. He’s going to enjoy showing you just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. 

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 9<-

Part 10

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, unprotected sex (just don‘t), overstimulation

Word Count: 4.5k

Note: Changbin at the gym? A classic. Yea maybe I discovered a new kink since that Talker episode. I hope you like this part. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are as always a blessing.

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

He had really tried. With all his self-control. He might have figured he wasn't as strong as he thought after all, but it was too late now anyway.

"Bin? What...?"

Your soft voice broke off as he finally pulled those damn leggings down and pressed you against the locker, making your hands slam hard against it.

—

When Changbin had offered to go to the gym together so he could help you with your workout plan, you were already nervous, however you had also been looking forward to it.

Normally you hated going to the gym. As soon as you walked in and got a glimpse of all the fit bodies glistening with sweat and hard-earned muscles flexing, based of their efforts, you wanted to flee and never look back.

However, Changbin kept talking about his training and now that the gym in the JYP building had been renovated, you wanted to give it a chance.

Since he was also kind of the personal trainer of the other boys and definitely knew a lot about fitness, you felt much more confident.

He had assured you that you would be alone, without prying eyes from others, and that was reassuring on one hand, but so much worse on the other.

Alone with Changbin as your personal trainer?

That sounded like the beginning of a porn movie you'd secretly love to see.

Changbin was already standing outside your office, leaning against the wall. His hair was a mess from the stressful day, and fluffy strands fell into his forehead. He carried a bag over his shoulder and smiled when he saw you.

"Hey Bin", you smiled at him.

"Hey, Y/N. You ready?"

"Sure. I'm a little scared. Don't push me too hard, okay?", you laughed, swinging your backpack onto your back. You only had gym clothes and two bottles of water with you. Changbin said you didn't need more.

You were about to walk down the long hallway together when the door to Chan's studio opened and Han stuck his head out.

"Oh Y/N, going to the gym with Changbin? Good luck!"

"Thanks...", you mumbled a little unsettled and Han grinned even more before disappearing back into the room. They clearly had a conversation about it beforehand.

Changbin just laughed darkly beside you, which didn't help.

"Don't worry. We'll take it slow."

Once inside the gym, you were amazed. It was very modern and no one else was here. After all, it was the middle of the night and usually there were only 3Racha left in the building.

"Wow. This turned out really well."

Changbin nodded:

"Yes. The renovations were badly needed. Now there's everything you could wish for."

He led you into the locker room so you could change and placed his bag on the bench in the middle of the room. There were wooden lockers on the walls all around and even a fancy shower right next to them. You set your backpack down as well and sighed softly.

"Do you want me to go outside?", he asked uncertainly. He didn't want to disturb your privacy while you were changing. You shook your head while getting your black leggings and black sports bra out of your bag.

"No, it’s alright. You can change here too."

Changbin hesitated for a moment, but then nodded and began to take out his clothes as well. While you were slipping out of your jeans, he turned his back to you, took off his hoddie, and put it on the bench.

He really didn't want to look, but he risked a quick glance anyway. He almost turned into a drooling mess when he saw your round ass and had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from staring at your light blue lace underwear like a pervert.

Han even bet that he wouldn't last 5 minutes before he wanted to fuck you and although Changbin would deny it, Han was right.

You had taken everything off by now and were standing with your back to him in just your underwear.

He knew it was wrong, that he should just turn around instead of staring. But when your hand moved to the clasp of your bra, he still looked a few seconds longer.

When you were standing in front of him in just your panties, he had to put a hand between his legs. He really really shouldn't have looked. Your tempting back was enough to shoot the heat between his legs.

Before turning around to put on your sports bra, he quickly turned away and continued to change. As he did so, he couldn't stop thinking about your bare skin and the curve of your ass that would fit perfectly in his big hands.

As soon as he had pulled on his shorts and a tank top, he hurried out of the locker room with a short:

"Meet me outside!"

A little puzzled, you looked after him, and followed as soon as you had put on your leggings and sports bra. He just set a water bottle on the counter and looked to you as you tied your hair up in a ponytail.

"What are we going to start with?", you asked, motivated, and he glanced around the room.

"We'll start with a warm up. Then I'll show you some exercises, and we'll do them in intervals."

"Alright! Sounds not that bad."

Changbin was a good trainer and he got you sweating within seconds. However, with each move he explained how to do it properly and all the muscle parts you would be working out with it. When you were completely wiped out after only a short time, he was just getting warmed up. Scorching breaths rushed through your lungs and pain began to prod at your stomach, spreading all the way down to your thighs and legs. Your limbs howled in agony.

He was strict, but didn't stop motivating you and at some point it was fun, even if everything hurt and you were sweating.

For the entirety of the session, for every exercise, Changbins hands got lost, wandering over your curves as he corrected your stance or instructed you on proper breathing through each repetition.  

His little touches as he helped you maintain your balance sent instant electrical impulses through your body. He just looked so good, with his pumped biceps, his trained torso and the sweat on his face.

You had to restrain yourself from touching him at every opportunity to feel his muscles under your fingers.

"Come on, I know you can give me one more, gorgeous!", Changbin said, spotting you from the front as you laid back on a mat while doing your last few sit-up's. He held your feet firmly on the ground, by your calves, cheering you on to do some more. His attentive gaze never wandered, glued to every part of you as you performed the exercises.

"Well done, doll", he praised as you struggled yourself up once more, abs burning, and chuckled as you dropped to the floor, stretched out like a starfish. Your head throbbed and your chest pounded. You needed a minute to summon air back to your lungs.

But he pushed you unbearably further into the next exercises.

With every touch, his fingers stayed pressed to your hips a little longer than necessary when he held you straight during push-ups.

He tried not to let it show, but seeing your long legs tighten with every movement, feeling your thighs under his fingers as soon as he helped you and how the sweat made your perfect skin shine had more impact on him than he showed.

You, too, could barely think straight as he gave you assistance with squats.

"You must always keep your back straight and bend your knees at a 90 degree angle until you feel it burning in your thighs", he explained expertly and had his hands firmly on your hips as you did the first squat.

He stood so close behind you that his chest grazed your back for a moment and when you squatted, he just stared at your tensed ass as it brushed against his middle.

"You need to push your back more, bend the knees, lean into the movement!"

You could feel his fingers digging harder into your sides each time after several repetitions.

"Like that?", you asked when he suddenly stopped explaining.

You did notice that he was staring at your ass and let out a small smirk but not saying anything. Then he cleared his throat and quickly averted his eyes from your ass, which was brushing against his bulge every time. Glancing over your shoulder, you could see how red he was, even though he was only giving assistance.

"Ah... Yes... Yeah you're doing good."

While counting your thirty squats in your head, almost letting your legs give out from the effort, he could think of nothing but sinking into you from behind and your perfect ass pressed against him with every thrust.

Your strained gasps and the little sighs that escaped you each time only spurred his imagination more.

"I hope I'll be able to walk tomorrow", you pressed out with a giggle, and god you had no idea what you were doing to him.

"I can't promise that”, he replied with a throaty laugh, but he sounded distracted.

At some point you felt the reason for his tense posture. Something on your butt felt increasingly harden and after a few seconds you realized what was up with him. Your heart pumped the heat to your ears and you tried to seem unbothered.

When you finished your exercise, he quickly let go of you and turned around, pretending to want something to drink.

After watching you for a whole hour, your body shaking with exertion, your shiny skin and your little exhausted sounds, he couldn't stop himself from getting hard.

But he felt dirty. He wanted to help you with your workout and all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck you hard against the nearest wall. Embarrassed, he held his water bottle in front of his increasingly hard length.

You took advantage of the brief pause and took a breath. You were exhausted and every muscle was burning, but it was a pleasant feeling.

"What now?" you asked after a short while, looking at him with energetic eyes.

"You really have endless motivation. The boys could really learn something from you."

Actually, he just wanted to lock himself away somewhere, jerk off while thinking about your sweaty body, and be ashamed of it afterwards.

But it would be too conspicuous to break off now, just because he had a boner.

As you straighten up, you suddenly frown in pain.

"Ow! Shit”, you cursed, grabbing your shoulder but not reaching the spot on your spine that hurt so much.

The sudden pinch in your back made you groan loudly, and Changbin immediately came over to you with a concerned look.

"What's wrong?"

"My back suddenly hurts", you pressed out, and that's when he knelt down behind you on the mat. His thighs bulged with muscles that strained under his skin whenever he moved.

"You probably just pinched something”, he reasoned aloud, feeling down your spine from your neck, to your lower back.

"Yea, your muscles are strained and probably pinched a nerve. I can release that if you want. I do it all the time with the members."

Of course you trusted him, so you nodded.

"Yes. Okay."

"Lay on your stomach," he said, so you complied and folded your hands, under your chin, trying and failing to ease the wild drumming of your heart against the mat as he climbed over you. His knees fell on each side of your hips, his thighs grazing your ass. And as he lowers himself to place his hands along your spine, another part of him brushed over you, igniting your face with embarrassment. You reminded yourself that he's simply wanting to help you.

Changbin tilted his pelvis against the curve of your ass, an unmistakable weight pokes the base of your spine. More heat rushed to your face.

"Just relax... This is just to help with the pain."

His voice was calm, but he clearly enjoyed the soft feeling of your ass under his body.

He began to squeeze the round flesh of your hips and massaging the aching bands of muscles above your ass. He worked his way up your back and his strong hands on your heated skin made you close your eyes.

He probably enjoyed the touch more than he should, but he couldn't stop. Only a stifled moan made its way up your throat, your body sagging under the warm press of his palms.

"Does it fell better?", he asked and you couldn't answer him. A loud sigh floated from your mouth as he nudged more weight on the pinching area. It hurts, not a bad kind of hurt, but it shifted your mind into dizziness.

"I want to hear you, doll!", he said with a raspy voice.

"Yes, it helps”, you answered him and buried your forehead in your palms to keep from gasping out loud as you definitely felt the throbbing weight in his shorts grazing your ass cheek. Your stomach is squished into the mat as he leaned over you. While he massaged your back underneath your bra a wobbly breath escaped you.

"I really like that workout clothes on you."

His hands disappeared almost completely under the fabric of your sports bra and traveled down your sides until his fingers touched the bare skin of your breasts.

"Since it was the first workout, I think we should stop for today. You did well, but otherwise you're overworking your muscles."

Relieved, you nodded. You honestly wouldn't have survived another exercise. Your muscles felt like jelly, and if Changbin came that close to you again, you'd go nuts.

He gave your hips one last lingering squeeze before his hands vanished from your body. You found yourself missing the uncomfortably close touch. Changbin's hands had worked magic on your sore muscles.

Your underpants had become wetter and wetter with each time he had grabbed your hips during the exercises, aligned your thighs, or just randomly stroked along your belly.

You wanted to feel his fingers somewhere else, and that's why you couldn't concentrate on the workout once you felt his hard member against your ass.

"You can go ahead and get changed", he said, still holding the bottle in front of his private parts.

"I'll be right there."

As silly as it sounded, it was like he was undressing you with his stare.

You nodded slowly and had to squeeze your thighs together at the sight of his sweaty torso. The tank top was sticking to his abs since he had been doing pushups with you and his hair was falling tangled in his forehead. He looked so hot that you had to force yourself away from the sight of him.

When you disappeared through the door into the locker room, he threw the bottle in the trash and stared at the closed door behind which you were probably undressing.

Had he really imagined your intense stares and slightly suggestive gasps?

The images in his head were driving in circles and he knew he couldn't take it anymore.

Just as you opened the locker to get your things, Changbin bursted into the room. You turned around and had to bite your lower lip when you saw the tent in his shorts.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. You're driving me insane", he growled, already pushing you against the locker as he slammed the locker door shut with the other.

With a gasp, you felt his erection against your lower abdomen and his strong hands on your hips, pressing you firmly against the lockers.

He licked his lips and watched your face with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Bin, what-", but you were interrupted by his lips crashing mercilessly against yours. He kissed you so tumultuously and hurriedly that your hands immediately flew into his hair and tugged at it. He grinded his length in heat against your body and you could feel it growing with every second.

Chaotically your tongues met and his huge shoulders completely shielded you from the rest of the room. He was all over you, kissing you with all the dirty desire that had built up over the last few hours.

"I need you. Now!", he panted still at your swollen lips and reached for your ass, kneading it tightly through the tight leggings so that you lifted off the floor.

He grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled you up, making your already wet pussy touch the crotch area of his shorts. Eventually slamming your back against the empty lockers.

Immediately you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him even closer, and with your back pressed against the metal, he kissed along your jawline, up to your neck, where he immediately sucked and worked big hickeys into your skin that you probably couldn't easily hide.

"You're so cruel... I couldn't think of anything else the whole time but ripping those damn leggings off you", he mumbled into your skin, cupping your boobs with his hands. Veins stood out from the workout on his forearms and that only turned you on more.

"Fuck... Binnie", you gasped, overwhelmed. Even his sweat smelled seductive, and you tugged at his strands of hair in desire as he ripped the sports bra off your body at the speed of light.

Immediately he twirled one nipple between his fingers while roughly kneading your other breast.

"Even your tits are perfect", he growled, eyeing your half-naked body aroused. In his gaze was pure greed for you and your body, which made your panties and leggings completely soaked.

You pressed your thighs even tighter against his sides and rolled your hips against his to get more friction between your cunt and his bulge.

With shaky fingers you ripped the tank top off his body and finally you had a clear view of his muscular body. He was breathtakingly beautiful. Every one of his muscles tensed under the touch of your fingers and you couldn't quite realize that you could finally feel his perfectly built abs so tight against your skin.

You brought nothing but excited gasps from your lips. Changbin's sudden attack drove the heat into your veins and feeling his immense length through the fabric drove you insane. It was clear that his dick was huge, since everything about him was big, which put you in joyful anticipation.

But Changbin was too impatient. He needed to feel you and he needed to feel you now.

"I need your pussy so bad", he said almost desperately and lowered you down.

Before you could catch your breath, he turned you around by your hips and pressed you so hard against the lockers that you panted loudly.

Little whimpers and moans kept escaping him, which would have been cute if he wasn't so dominant with his hands.

"Fuck. I can't wait to feel your soaked pussy around my cock", he murmured as he was already pulling down your leggings along with your panties. You somehow got rid of them and kicked them off.

You got goosebumps as your skin and core were suddenly exposed to the cold air, but you already felt him ripping off his shorts and boxers.

His movements were so hurried and violent as he couldn't take it anymore. The last hours had been torture.

With his hands he pressed you rough against the locker so that your hands and cheek leaned firmly against it and your breasts were pressed against the cool metal.

This sight of your ass and wet cunt completely at his mercy made Changbin's thoughtfulness overshadowed by pure lust. Your mind emptied. No thoughts lingered as desire crowded your brain. He started urging his hardness between your ass cheeks.

You already felt his tip at your entrance when he lined up behind you, and his throbbing dick was thick and obviously massive. With a quick movement, he brought your hips into position and then sinked into you from behind with his entire length.

"Shit. You're so tight", he cursed as your walls nearly crushed him. He thrusted slowly deeper and deeper and you feared being torn apart by him stretching you out. You moaned loudly and he moved slightly so you could get used to it.

"You take my cock so well... good girl."

The pain quickly turned to pure arousal, and the way he filled you up perfectly made you dig your fingernails into the locker.

"Is everything okay?", he asked, breathing heavily as he was completely absorbed in you and you felt his balls pressed against your clit.

You couldn't open your eyes as every movement rattled your insides.

"Mmmh... Binnie, you're so... big. Filling me out...", you gasped and his tone automatically softened.

"I can stop if it's too much, babe.”

Quickly, you shook your head against the locker.

"No. Please Binnie! Please fuck me! Fuck me as hard as you want!"

Your shaky voice and strained back made his dick inside you twitch impatiently.

"You're so goddamn sexy, babe", he growled, and as he slowly pulled his length back out of you, a desperate whimper escaped you.

Without hesitation he slammed into you, making you scream and squeeze your eyes tight with your chest pounding. Your eyes rolled back and grunts came out of his gritted teeth, as your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. He found the g-spot almost immediately. He thrusted harder, hitting it every time. With each time he penetrated deeper. The sight of your cockdrunk face against the locker, the sharp moans bursting from your throat as pain blooms in your core and the way your ass wiggled every time made him go insane.

"Do you know how hard it was to hold back? All those times you bent over for me like the good girl you are...", he said between harsh grunts.

It wasn't long before he increased the pace, moving your hips against his with each thrust, until the room was filled only with your desperate moans, his gasps, and the filthy sound of skin slapping together. The squelching of your swollen cunt, mixed with your desperate, tearful pleas:

"Please, it's too.. too much, Bin..."

The filthy, wet clap of his skin against yours rises, echoing in the empty lockroom and definitely also outside at the gym. The snapping of his hips became more violent and his balls slapped against your clit with each time, making your head completely foggy.

"Gotta stretch every part of you after the workout, doll."

The vertiginous heat reaches its high and bliss overwhelmed you as you were on the edge.

"Say my name slut!"

His words made you fall apart even more. He was completely addicted to you while you moaned his name in the most beautiful melody he had ever heard. His fingernails dug into the soft skin of your ass as he fucked you without mercy against the locker, which creaked loudly with each thrust.

Your whole upper body was by now pressed firmly against the wood and your nipples were hard from rubbing against the door.

Pornographic sounds came from you and you moaned his name like a mantra that brought you to your climax. Your lids fluttered. Your back flexed, as stuttered sobs ripped themselves from your throat when you finally came.

As your walls tightened around Changbin, he grunted:

„I think I have to break my promise. I'm going to make sure you can't walk tomorrow!", while hitting all the sensitive spots that made you a mess.

"Don't stop, Binnie! Please come inside me!"

Even though you were already ruined, you wanted him to come inside you.

"You're so good for me, doll. So good", he sighed.

Your words motivated him to go harder inside you, pushing so deep it almost felt uncomfortable. Your suddenly tightened around him again and your orgasm gripped you again, making you gasp loudly as you saw stars behind your closed eyes.

But he didn't stop thrusting into you and overstimulating your sensitive pussy. However his thrusts were getting sloppier, his cock twitching inside you.

He was too distracted by your sore pussy and how it looked wrapped around his throbbing cock to pull out, filling you up with cum.

The thrusts stopped but he was still inside you. His musky scent surrounding you. You grew dizzier and couldn't hear him trough the thick fog in your head. Your thoughts are mush by now, your words nonsense and he too was completely lost.

Breathing heavily, he rested his chin on your shoulder and your bodies stuck together as sweaty as they had not been during the workout.

Protectively, he put his arms around your body, turned you to face him, and brushed your hair out of your face.

"Sorry, baby. I lost myself a little."

The fog slowly cleared, but all you could do was fall exhausted against his chest. Like a precious piece of jewelry, he held you close and caressed your forehead, your nose, your whole face with his lips. You weren't sure if you would ever be able to walk again, but you were lost in drunkenness anyway.

"Come on. Let me get you in the shower and take care of you."

His voice was velvet on your soul and he lifted you up with ease. He carried you into the shower of the gym and lowered you there. Slowly the strength returned to your shaky legs, but he insisted on soaping your hair and helping you cleaning yourself up.

Under the warm stream of water, he massaged your scalp, rinsed your hair, and spread the shower gel over your body with soft touches.

"Binnie?"

Questioningly, he looked at you as you said something for the first time again. His faithful eyes examined your tired face with such care that your heart beat faster.

"Huh?"

"Are you my personal trainer now?"

An amused smile was on your lips and he washed the soap off your shoulders with a chuckle.

"If that's what you want, I'd love to."

"Will training always be like today then?"

"I hope so."

The corners of his mouth lifted and he stroked his fingers along your jawline, up to your temple, like he's tracing the contours of a portrait.

While you were enveloped in steam and the fresh smell of lemon and wood of his shower gel, you put your hands to his chest and kissed him.

It was a sweet, almost innocent kiss. Like the first kiss you had with your crush as a teenager. His hands cupped your cheeks and he pulled you closer.

You felt safe, secure and wanted. It was a comforting feeling and finally you had found the word that described how the boys made you feel:

Like home.

->Part 11

——————————————————————-

© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Taglist (closed):

@poisonivy21 @elizalabs3 @chartrucewhore @smutlemononeshot @hgema @bookwyrm28 @gemini-demon @jeongchaos @jihanlovic @comingupwithacoolnameishard @marked-unknown @yuhjoeyuh @bakedlilgoonie @itstorimf @toomuchtellyneck @ana-stasssiaaa @galaxypox @n034sy @amara-mars @purple-belle @amararosesblog @tori719 @rindomo @freakinthesheets-excelexcel @niaalove @crazyllamasurfer @luunaruwu @jenseok17 @mariegalea @kimseungminsprincess @julciaqwerty @officialshania @whore4stucky9104 @foxinnie8 @i-dont-know-me-either @sirenthalia @uno7 @jeonnginns @mixling-blog @httpsmultifandom @hyunlixwife @eastleighsblog @tzalethhwang @queenofdragons12 @fixation-dump @midsoulz @emmxxsworld @scarletrosesposts @sugahannie @jinniespuppy

[bengiyo]

Knock Knock Boys Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, the boys all went to the onsen to try to bond with Jumper, to mixed results. Almond also remains perhaps more focused on Latte than Jumper because he’s so nervous, and is determined to figure out if Latte has a birthmark on his dick. Thanwa and Peak have been vibing pretty hard, and I’m into it. Thanwa has asked Peak to help him with his job applications, and Peak wants to learn how to better enjoy food. Almond also followed Latte and Lukpeach to the sex toy store and completely misunderstood what was going on. I’m currently suspicious about Thanwa’s financial situation.

As a note, @babyangelsky warned us about extreme toilet humor between 41:30 and 42:33.

I am really enjoying these cold opens to the potential end of the episode. It’s compelling every time.

I feel like we have been in this BL house before. The porch looks familiar.

Latte remains a tease and I love it.

Wouldn’t be a proper foodie if there wasn’t a special story attached to his favorite dish.

Now why did he feed that man like that?

I went to a school with corporal punishment. I’m always surprised when I see it in Thai colleges.

I really don’t want to be disappointed in Jumper lately. I am having fun with the way it feels like he’s flirting with Peak.

Fellas, is it gay to stare into each other’s eyes and search each other’s souls while holding a computer mouse together?

Thanwa’s friend looks like a Pokémon trainer.

Oh, I don’t like this guy promising compensation as he leaves a bill to Thanwa.

I’ve not vibed with a lot of BL choices this year, but I’m glad we’re getting more sexual health PSAs in the shows lately.

I think it’s very good to give Almond condoms. I get the sense he’d be nervous about getting his own.

Almond, why are you so pressed about Lukpeach if you ain’t tryina smash.

Did Seng teach Nokia how to smile like a dork?

Yes, bring Lukpeach to the party. She needs to know that this is not just two college boys on a romance track. There’s a whole house of boys.

Small things that this show earns is Thanwa being the primary cook of the household. He doesn’t come off as bossy when he’s asking Almond to go get stuff from the kitchen while he works on other food prep. It feels natural.

Oh ho! We’ve reached the cold open around the middle.

Now, Latte, don’t get jealous of a moment you helped create.

How old are we? 7 minutes in heaven?? At least they played that well right out the gate.

A game about going into closets together to see what might happen. These jokes write themselves.

Oh no. I am close to the trigger warning. This is about to be the worst scatological humor I’ve been subjected to by Thai BL. I can feel it.

NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! THIS IS SO GROSS!!!!

Girls….I am disgusted… Trust the warning. Props to Pak, Nokia, and Jaonine for playing that all the way through, but I don’t need to see that ever again.

What the hell is going on in that closet though??

I just know it’s hot as hell in this closet.

I appreciate this show giving me some kisses after that vomit scene. It’s what I deserve.

Okay, I really like this apology and reestablishment of consensual boundaries. Excellent kiss the homies content.

Welcome back, Jane. I hope you give us some answers next week.

This show is really assured, and I’m having a great time with it. I really love when a show has two couples and has them on similarly-paced advancement tracks. It offers up a lot of fun comparison. It’s clear at this point that Almond and Latte like being around each other, and Latte is becoming jealous of Almond’s interest in Jumper. It also works that Thanwa was the one to have kissed Peak already and has been waiting for him to sort it out. That was a really excellent episode. Having Jumper be such a sloppy mess on top of Almond like that is a good way to kill much of the enthusiasm he might have there, opening a lane for Latte. Good shit, Knock Knock Boys.