#can't believe i'm tagging it again but...

[goobstars]

i have nothing in particular just more jax lololol i LOVE your writing. simply too good with your talents. pats on the back cause i’m obsessed

𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

summary : more headcanons about dating jax.

tags : romance, and a very short list of headcanons.

note : i have no clue if this is in character or not, but i'm also delusional so i don't care. I HOPE YOU ENJOY ANON!

— hand placement>>>>

— this man knows about hand placement, and he also knows how to use it.

— he'd be passing by you, and there could literally be nothing behind you, but he'd act like there was a wall or something so he could get close. since he was close, he'd place a hand on your hip and let it trail across the small of your back while he'd mumble about needing to grab something.

— or, he'd grab you while he's passing by you.

— you could just be standing there while he's walking by, and all you'd feel is an arm wrapping around your waist before you're lifted up and taken away.

— that's another thing, he can easily pick you up. did you all see how he just easily lifted ragatha over his head? of course, he doesn't throw you in an air fryer or anything, but he just picks you up when it seems necessary to him.

— like during the candy kingdom adventure, and the fudge monster melted on the ground, he had one arm around your waist while holding you up so you didn't get dirty.

— or, when the truck was falling in the air and it landed in that river, he'd catch you bridal-style. that doesn't really count as him picking you up, but you're still in his arms so it is being included.

— also, this man has to have a hand on you at all times. i've said it before and i'll say it again, it's assumed that jax wouldn't be a touchy person, but i heavily believe this man would have no shame in showing affection in front of the others.

— would he be all up on you? no, but he would do little touches here and there.

— if you both are walking, he'd either hold your hand or wrap an arm around your shoulder.

— if you both are just standing there, he'd most certainly have a hand on your hip. you could be chatting with others, and he'd trace random shapes on your hip, and every once in a while, he'd lean into your ear to say something while pulling you closer.

— a very teasing man, by the way. as if his teasing wasn't bad enough, when you both start dating, it's worse.

— everything you do will be remarked by him, and if you get angry at his taunts, he doesn't care. he'll continue to do it until you find a way to shut him up.

— hint: you gotta kiss him.

"you're actually upset?" "are you angry that i'm right, doll?" "come on, you can't stay mad at me for long. you're obsessed with me—admit it. you've done it before, you can do it again."

— that's all you'd hear until you finally kiss him.

— but even then, he'd just smirk at you before making one final comment.

"you're only proving my point that you're obsessed with me, dollface..."

— 'doll', 'dollface', and maybe even 'angel' every once in a while. those are the nicknames he uses most for you.

— when it comes to kissing, he's the type who will kiss you anywhere but your lips just to taunt you.

— he'd lean in for a kiss before swerving and placing a peck to your nose, or he'd kiss your cheek.

— he does this because he knows it irritates you, and if you want a kiss that bad, you'll grab his suspenders and quickly kiss him before he can move.

— when you both kiss, one of his hands is on your waist while the other one is on the nape of your neck.

— if your attention isn't on him, he stares. a lot.

— hell, even if your attention is on him, he's still going to stare. you could be talking to him and all you see is his smirk slightly faltering while his eyes go lidded, and they'd occasionally flicker down to your lips before meeting your eyes once more.

— this is a last-minute thing, but if you were to go on an adventure where he got to drive a car and you were in the passenger seat, he'd have his hand on the back of your headrest while his other hand rested on the wheel.

— or, if he was feeling bold, he'd hold your hand or place a hand on your thigh.

— i could see him opening the passenger door for you, and he would have one hand on the roof of the car while leaning down to talk to you before letting you out.

[littlemisskookie]

See You Like That: Teaser

See You Like That: Teaser Release Date: July 9th, 2025, Afternoon Ship: Childhood Frenemy/Roommate!Jungkook x Bitch!Reader Description: Your entire life, you only saw Jeon Jungkook as a nuisance you couldn’t escape from. But what happens after the two of you move in together, and the dreams that plague you force you to see him in a different light? Warnings: Extremely Mean Hard Dom!Jungkook, BDSM, Brat!Reader, Masochist!Reader, Sadist!Jungkook, Dub-Con, Extreme Face-Fucking, Oral (m. & f. receiving), Extreme Degradation, Extreme Humiliation, Facial, Face-Fucking Again (a different sort of way), Rimming (f. receiving), Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Scenes, Like these scenes are actually crazy, Slapping, Spanking, Fingering, Pussy-Slapping, Spit, Rough Sex, Praise, Choking, Manhandling, Restraining, Hate Sex, Angry Sex, Possessiveness, Masturbation, Sex-Toys, Squirting, Dacryphilia, Hair Pulling, Jungkook has a HUUUUUGE Cawhk, Threesome? (Ft. Taehyung), Reader is a bitch because I love them Teaser WC: 1.6k Actual Fic WC: 30.3k A/N: IDK if i can end up in the good place after this one guys. Also i don’t do tag lists, I’m ancient on here guys. Just follow me and keep up.

You shouldn't have been surprised when Jungkook followed after you, sitting down much too close for your mental well being. 

You felt much friendlier to him now, giggling as you caught your breath and sticking your finger in his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against the tip. "Gonna follow me in the bathroom too?"

"Layla told you a lot, huh?"

"Pshh." You pull your finger back and looked away, not wanting to be reminded of everything she told you. "Girl's a yapper."

"What'd she tell you?"

You side-eyed him, a smirk creeping up on your lips. "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

He rolled his eyes. "I would, in fact. Seems like it was about me."

"She saw us walk in together. Told me you two hooked up." You crossed your arms. "Told me a lot, actually."

He grinned. "All good things, I bet."

You felt your cheeks flare up further, and try to fight back the booze to keep your sanity in check. "Oh, that's what you assume, huh? She was telling me you sucked, actually."

"Now I know for a fact she didn't say that."

You faced him, brows furrowed. "How do you know that?"

He shrugged, that smug ass grin on his face only spreading wider. "I just do."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, and roll your eyes you did. "God, you men are all the same. You think your dick is gold and it's the best anyone ever had, and you're just a god in bed! Most of you guys can't even find the clit with GPS. You know most women fake it, right? Just to get it over with?"

He chuckled a little. "I've never had a girl fake it, trust me."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Little Jeon Jungkook was actually bragging about his sex prowess, right to your face.  You glared at him, leaning closer to see if you could scrutinize the lies coming out of his mouth.

"Bullshit." You shook your head, trying not to let your imagination wander. "Every girl fakes it at some point. Statistically it had to happen with you, especially if you're having random hookups at a club of all places."

"Why, have you faked it?"

"Duh." You said it as though it were obvious.

Jungkook let out a breath of air at that. "You know what, makes a lot of sense, actually."

You shot up at that, feeling offended for some reason. "Excuse you?"

He side-eyed you, a knowing look on his face. "Why you're so uptight. You've never gotten good dick before, have you?"

You felt as though someone had shot you, only able to look at him with a stunned, paralyzed expression. Who was this man, and what had he done with the dweeby, goody, Jeon Jungkook you had known for over two years?

"Are you drunk?" you blurted out, shocked that he was speaking so brazenly about this.

"No. I'm DD, remember?" His hand came up to touch your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin against his palm. The action seemed so tender, so intimate. "You're pretty tipsy, though, it seems."

You can't decide if you want to lean in or jolt away from his touch, seemingly frozen. "I'm... a little drunk."

He snickered a bit at that. "I'm sure. What's going on in that head of yours?"

You realized you must've still looked stunned. "I might say something I'll regret."

That seemed to take him by surprise. He cocked his head, confused. "Why would you regret it?"

Because it would mean throwing away years of pride over a moment that will inevitably seem so embarrassingly stupid in the morning. 

You quickly leaned back out of his touch, not wanting him to feel more blood rush to your cheeks. "I-I don't know. I always say stupid shit when drunk."

"You say stupid shit when sober, too," he laughed. "Besides, drunk words are sober thoughts."

You couldn't let your drunk words or sober thoughts let him know how badly you wanted to find out if Layla had been telling the truth or not. That he was an absolute freak. With a huge cock that he knew how to use. Who spewed nasty shit in her ear as he railed her in some dirty club bathroom. That he was super fucking mean... apparently. Not that it interested you. 

Your mouth instead opened and closed like a fish, unable to process the moment or what you wanted to say that would not end in your horrific demise.

Were you actually wanting Jungkook? No, no way. Layla had gotten into your head, plied you with booze, and sent you to a possible metaphorical wolf. Your drunk mouth could not be trusted at this moment. 

Jungkook brushed a lock from your face, puzzled as to what had you so silent for once. He figured when drunk you'd be spilling your guts out about any and everything, just like Layla. "Are you wanting to go home already?"

You were tempted to say no, as going home with Jungkook would mean you were alone together, and you weren't in a state to not jump on him. But then you remembered your sole reason for being here, and since the club was apparently a dangerous place for Jungkook to find pussy, it was probably best you called it a night to end any possibility of him getting laid. For your own sake of getting sleep, of course. Not for your sanity or anything.

You nodded, following Jungkook downstairs as he told his friends you were both heading home (despite their protests), and helping you into the car. Your walk wasn't nearly as straight, though the heels weren't helping, and you were looking a lot more drunk than you had initially thought. Jungkook buckled your seatbelt for you, and you couldn't help but stare him as he sang softly to the music on the radio, the city lights flashing across his face as he drove you two home.

You couldn't stop ogling at him, and blatantly at that. His tatted fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he drove with one hand. His thighs were spread like a meal before you, and you couldn't help but let your gaze zero in on his crotch. Was his dick really as big as Layla said? Nearly the girth of a coke can? How was that possible? She was definitely exaggerating. And he was mean? How mean? You never had a thing for nice guys, and Jungkook was about as nice as they come. Not usually that nice to you, but still. You couldn't imagine him saying anything meaner than what he already says when you're in one of your spats with him. And during sex? What could he possibly say?

How were you being bombarded with all this new information? You knew everything about him. He liked to eat boiled eggs without eating the yolks. He used to be able to belch the alphabet in your ear just to piss you off. How did you not know he had a tree trunk for a dick sitting between his legs? You squint at the crotch of his jeans, wondering if you could make out an outline of a bulge beneath the fabric.

Fuck, you weren't going to stop thinking about this. What would it be like to suck him off... hypothetically speaking? Layla overshared she was practically choking on him. Was he a head pusher? Would he force you to take it down your throat, be super mean and degrading as he teased you for barely being able to fit him? Would he be even meaner to get back at you for all the trouble you had caused him over the years? Would he laugh as he watched you cry, trying to force yourself down to the base to please him? What would he sound like when the tip finally hit the back of your throat? Would he whimper or let out a deep groan? Would he trap your head between his bulging thighs to keep you locked on him until your eyes rolled back and you ran out of air?

Fuck fuck fuck! Your mind was being filled with  all the possibilities. You couldn't be thinking about this! Absolutely not! You hated Jungkook. You knew him forever, how you could you be thinking about sucking his dick? How could you be thinking, at this very moment, of possibly begging him to let you have a taste of it and suck him off in the car just so you could get it out of your system?

Absolutely not! The sheer thought of him knowing that was absolutely mortifying!

"What're you staring at?"

Your eyes popped back up to Jungkook's, who was giving you a sideways glance, his humming ceased. 

"Your jeans," you stammered out, trying to act cool.

"What about them?"

"...They're ugly. Burn them. " That was a lie, they looked scarily good on him. Let you see how thick his thighs really were. It was the best you could come up with, though. Better than the "take them off" that was about to spew from your lips. 

Jungkook grunted, looking back at the road. "'Course you'd say that. Guess you're sobering up. That's good at least."

You let out a breath at your quick save, forcing yourself to look at the road too. You were just drunk and having silly horny thoughts, clearly. This was nothing. You were sure that when morning came you'd have all thoughts of Jungkook being anything other than a pest out of your mind.

[deffonotlily]

call me john wayne (arthur hill smau)

note : my first real fic ever, praying that it's ok! extremely self-indulgent arthur hill x reader smau. hope you love it x

p.s having some issues with formatting bare with me as I try fix :’)

pairing: arthur hill x influencer!reader, reader is afab presenting, featuring liv, sabina, flo and becky as readers' friends and some of the other ukyt boys sprinkled in

description: an insight into your insta page, documenting a few wholesome months of your life, including your friends, a visit home and a new love interest who may be exactly what youve needed

warnings: fluff, eventual relationship, all my pics sourced on pinterest, intentional small caps x

yourusername

London, England

liked by livvydimartino, georgeclarkeey and others

yourusername sitting back and appreciating the last few weeks 🤍 tagged glambyflo, livvydimartino, sabinablair_

sabinablair_ a group night out needs to happen again, immediately !! yourusername come over rn girl i'm getting the rollers out

glambyflo matcha date tomorrow? you're glowing in these pics ❤️ yourusername brave of you to assume i wasn't planning this already 👀 ❤️

user1 i am OBSESSED with these girls😭

user2 closing my eyes and parasocially inputting myself into this insta post

user3 flo and y/ns matcha obsession getting out of hand

liked by yourusername

livvydimartino marry me x yourusername any day 🫶 italianbach da fuq 👹

yourusername

Ireland

liked by yourbestfriend, laurenwhelannnn, glambyflo and others

yourusername a lovely trip home and a 'small' night out in belfast for paddy's day! vlog up on my youtube now, link is in my bio ☘ tagged yourbestfriend, visitbelfast

arthurtv can't believe we live in the same place and never see each other, but literally saw you today in a different COUNTRY georgeclarkeey @/arthurfnhill planned it fr liked by yourusername

laurenwhelannnn fáilte abhaile! 🇮🇪 ('fall-cha a-wall-ya', welcome home) yourusername go raibh maith agaith, mo chroí ( 'go row my og-it, mo kree', thank you, my heart)

visitbelfast thanks for visiting us on your trip home, y/n! we sent you a dm 👀 yourusername okay gurl ily

yourbestfriend love the bones off of you girl, come home again soon

yourusername right back at ya, come to London! 💌

yourusername

London, England

🎵Arthur Hill - John Wayne

liked by theburntchip, arthurfnhill, soph and others

yourusername feel like john wayne 🚲 tagged livvydimartino, limebikeuk, yourtattooartist

chrismd10 riding 🚴🏻‍♀️ through the city 🏙️ on my own🧍‍♂️

yourusername just an outlaw 🤠 on his way home 🏠

georgeclarkeey the good 😊 the bad 😞 the ugly 👹

arthurtv I'VE SEEN IT ALL 👀👀👀

user4 okay soft launch user5 nah theyre not together i don't think

user6 SHOOT YOUR SHOT GIRL

user7 y/n is literally us

arthurfnhill bloody hell arthurfnhill appreciate the mention ❤️ yourusername i love the song, deffo on repeat! 🖤

livvydimartino 😏 liked by yourusername italianbach i can hear you two giggling in the other room

arthurfnhill

London, England

liked by yourusername, lisahull_hill and others

arthurfnhill AD | Surprise! @/limebikeuk sent us on a challenge around London ! Thanks so much to @/yourusername for joining in on the fun! She says Instagram had to see our drinks before we touched them but idk man. Video on my YouTube now x

tagged yourusername, limebikeuk

georgeclarkeey right okay mate this seems targeted arthurfnhill george Clarke lime bike incident limebikeuk we miss you george

yourusername I had so much fun making this video with you! thanks so much for having me and for the matcha ❤️ liked by arthurfnhill

italianbach cute

user1 did anyone see the way arthur threw his bike on the ground and ran to y/n when he saw her fall 😭

user2 mama y papa

glambyflo 👏

willne class

yourusername

London, England

liked by arthurfnhill, bambinobecky and others

yourusername about last night tagged bambinobecky, arthurfnhill, italianbach, chrismd10, arthurtv, georgeclarkeey

bambinobecky thats arthur's pizza alright yourusername 🕺

arthurfnhill ❤️ yourusername ❤️ chrismd10 what does this mean asking for a friend

glambyflo hotness

sabinablair_ catch up NOW yourusername on my way x

italianbach on my wingman shih livvydimartino my man 💯

arthurfnhill

England

liked by georgeclarkeey, wroetoshaw and others

arthurfnhill learning x tagged yourusername

yourusername appreciate you arthurfnhill ❤️‍🩹

user5 HELL YEAH

user6 this is a wattpad fanfiction and y/n is the main character liked by yourusername

glambyflo happy for you guys 💕

italianbach i did that.

arthurtv no excuse now mate ♟️

yourusername

England

liked by literally everyone

yourusername if it's only love it's only you tagged arthurfnhill

user4 we've been WAITING for this one chrismd10 ur telling me mate

jamesmarriottyt honoured to be used in this hard launch liked by arthurfnhill, yourusername and others

arthurfnhill pretty pretty pretty yourusername you're a dream user2 y/n is literally lily

sabinablair_ no one is more deserving than you

yourbestfriend so happy for you, come home soon x

limebikeuk we're taking responsibility for this italianbach NO

[gothicpaperback]

THE WAY HE CARES | FIVE

<<< PART FOUR | MASTERLIST |PART SIX >>>

wc: 3,5k | rating: 18+ for eventual smut | Joel Miller x You | Enemy Pregnancy

summary: Joel Miller has been my pain-in-the-ass neighbour for years. we argue more than we speakand when we do speak, it's usually through gritted teeth. but when my doctor tells me my fertility’s running out of time, panic sets in. I want a baby and I don’t have the luxury of waiting around for Mr. Right. Joel's a damn good father to his daughter, Sarah. that much, I can’t deny. so one night, fuelled by nerves and just the right amount of wine, I ask him the unthinkable: get me pregnant. no strings.no romance. just biology. i never planned on falling for him. but nothing about Joel Miller ever goes according to plan.

while the story is first person narrative, the OC female character is YOU. she is not named and barely physically described aside from being able bodied and having hair long enough to grab.

tags/warnings: neighbours, enemies to lovers, comedy, smut, sexual tension, mentions of fertility and reproductive issues, mentions of drugs and alcohol, self pleasure (male). i will add more tags as they become relevant.

taglist: @himboelover | @harrypotteranna23-blog | @isabella-rose-trastamara | @ro4nix | @sunndroppp | @harriedandharassed | @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 | @titlee78 | @olafsmiles2020 | @sophiagladiator

THE WAY HE CARES | FIVE

Joel shows up at my door the following ovulation window ten minutes after I send the text with no questions or weird follow-up. Just a simple: be there in a sec. 

I still can't believe he’s offered so kindly, so blindly. 

He walks in with his worn flannel rolled up at the sleeves, heavy boots thudding against my hardwood floors and he heads straight to the bathroom like this is the most normal Tuesday night task he’s ever signed up for.

"This is for you," I tell him when he arrives, holding out a six pack of his favourite beer. "As a thank you."

"Not necessary."

"I know." 

He nods, looking awkwardly around before placing the six back by the door. He rights himself, dark eyes sweeping over me. 

"So..." 

I motion for him to follow, pointing at the familiar door. 

“I left a cup on the counter,” I tell him arms crossed as I lean against the wall just outside the door. “Same one as last time. Washed, sterilized, emotionally traumatized.”

Joel snorts. “You’re real hospitable, y’know that?”

“Just trying to keep things professional,” I reply. “Like a very weird, unlicensed clinic.”

I move to the kitchen and hear the bathroom door click shut. I try not to listen in but I can't help it. I creep back into the hall, holding my breath. 

The faucet runs for a few seconds, maybe he’s washing his hands? Or trying to stall. He’s got this quiet nervous energy, which is wild because Joel Miller does not seem like a man who gets nervous. 

He’s the kind of guy who fixes your leaking sink without asking, leaves the wrench on your porch, and then scowls at you for saying thank you.

I pace back and forth with my body tingling and my skin warm. Five minutes go by and I'm consumed by the running thought that this feels different from last time but I can't explain why. 

“Uh.” His voice floats through the door hesitantly. “You got your phone on you?”

 “Why?”

“I forgot mine.”

“You forgot it again, or you didn’t want to bring it into the donation chamber*?” I make air quotes even though he can’t see me.

“Bit’a both,” Joel grumbles. “Look, I need something. I’m not seventeen, it takes more than imagination.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “You really want my phone?”

“Worked last time,” he mutters.

I groan, covering my face with my hand. “Fine. But no going through my photo albums.”

He scoffs. "You think I want to see your camera roll? Just pass it under.”

I unlock and slip the phone under the door and a second later, I hear the soft clunk of the cup on the counter and then the faint creak of the toilet lid. 

For the record, I am not imagining what Joel Miller looks like sitting there, hunched over, trying to do the world’s most awkward chore. I’m not. Okay, maybe I am a little. 

I hold my breath when I hear the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone, the light clink of a belt. 

And then a soft, barely heard "fuck, baby."

I hear a soft rasp that has to be his hand on his cock gliding up and down... Up and down. Does he spit on it? Is it beading at the tip? Shit I need to get laid. 

The sound increases, the tempo faster and faster. The sound is getting slick, the tugging more frenzied.  I can hear him making soft little pants between gritted teeth of so fucking good and keep going darlin', just like that, you know just what I need. 

What is he watching? I'm dying to know. Is it just Google images? Pornhub? My knowledge of porn is limited so i can't imagine much further than that. I'm debating this when I hear a muffled groan and the volume on my phone spikes with a very loud, very feminine, very familiar moan. 

My entire spine locks as Joel curses behind the door. 

There’s a fumbling noise, skin against porcelain, phone slipping, a soft thud. He slaps the volume down, but not before I hear the worst sound possible: my own voice broken and whiny.

“Fuck, feels so good Daddy.”

Oh.

My.

God.

He hit one of my saved videos. The most humiliating one. The one no one else has ever seen besides me. And now him. 

“Joel,” I gasp, mortified. “What the fuck are you watching?”

Dead silence. I want to dissolve into the drywall. My face is on fire. Then Joel's voice is there through the door, irritated. 

"Why are you standin' out there? You listenin' to me?"

Fair question. 

"Don't flatter yourself, Miller. I was walking by to do laundry." 

He's quiet for a moment then I hear a small sigh. "You, uh… always record yourself?”

My cheeks flame knowing what video he landed on. 

Me, the camera propped to see me from above. One hand playing between my legs, the other pinching my hard nipples as I moan obscenities and writhe on my bed. I filmed it for my last hook up, some guy from tinder that begged me for a sexy video where I called him Daddy. I still can't believe I did it. 

But upon playback I found it to be too personal, too intimate and chickened out sending it.  However I looked really hot in it. Soft lighting, slutty negligee. So I kept it and I never regretted it until this very moment. 

“Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Joel.”

“I’m already halfway done, for chrissake!”

“Using my video as inspiration?”

"I was watching somethin' and my finger slipped. I'm watchin’ something else now don't stress yourself." 

I bang my forehead lightly against the wall. “This is humiliating.”

“You want results or not?” he grumbles. “’Cause frankly, you’re not makin’ this any easier.”

“You used a video of me!”

“I didn’t mean to! It just played.”

Joel mutters something about "momentum" and I swear I briefly lose vision in my right eye.

I slide down to the floor, back against the wall. This whole plan is a disaster. A hilarious, humiliating, hormone-fueled disaster.Three more minutes pass in agonizing silence. I hear the occasional huff, a muttered “Jesus”, and once, weirdly, the sound of the faucet again. At this point I don’t want to know.

Then the door opens a crack and he stands there with pink cheeks. “Done.”

He stays in the doorway, still half inside the bathroom, like he’s ready to retreat again at a moment’s notice. Neither of us speak. The air between us is taut and unbearably awkward.

Finally, I say, “You really didn’t mean to hit that video?”

“No,” he says. Then, after a beat, “But it didn’t hurt.”

I suck in a breath. He shrugs one shoulder, eyes flicking up to meet mine. I stare at him. Finally he nods behind him.

“You gonna… do the thing?”

“I wasn’t planning on baking it into a lasagna, Joel. Yes. I’m doing the thing.”

He makes a face, then takes a cautious step back. “Right. Well. Hope this one takes.”

“Me too.”

“’Cuz this was plenty awkward.” he raises a brow, lips twitching. “Unless you keep uploading performance art like that.”

"Get the fuck out of here."

Joel laughs as he heads for the door. And even though I want to slam it behind him, part of me watches the way he walks, how he scratches the back of his neck like he’s still flustered, how he glances back once, just before stepping off my porch.

And how my body tingles wondering if our child will have his smile.

Sarah’s started waving to me when she gets dropped off by the bus. Not in that fake, I-have-to-be-nice-to-the-lady-who-lives-across the street-way. She does it casually, like we're friends. 

She drives by on her bike on sunny afternoons and tosses a greeting to me while I attempt to garden. Some days she even slows down long enough to chat about school, or soccer, or how the new guy at school is the most annoying boy on earth (even though I know she has a crush on him). 

I don’t know when it started, exactly. I think after that whole weird run in it broke the ice. Like she'd been wanting to talk to me the whole time and now had an excuse. And just like that I’m the neighbor she trusts enough to share her day when we both go to get our mail at the same time. 

She’s sweet, smart and sarcastic like her father, but way easier to talk to. She's charming in a way most pre-teen girls aren't.  So when she casually says, “Hey, we’re doing a cookout Saturday, you should come,” during one of her drop ins I don’t think she means it as a trap. 

She smiles all big and earnest and I can admit it disarms me. 

I blink. “Oh, uh… I don’t want to crash your family thing.”

“You wouldn’t be. I invited you.” She tosses her backpack over her shoulder. “And Dad always makes too much food anyway. Like, weird amounts. Who the hell needs fifteen burgers?”

I laugh. “Alright. Maybe for one burger.”

That Saturday I follow Sarah through the open side gate, the scent of grilled meat and charcoal already curling through the summer air. She’s chatting about how Joel just had to put in a pergola after seeing something on HGTV, and I half-listen, too aware of where I’m heading.

I haven’t been in his backyard before. I’ve seen flashes through my bedroom window, glimpses distorted by my blinds slats.

And now that I’m here, stepping into his space and I hate how impressed I am because his backyard is stunning. There’s a wide cedar deck that leads to a slate stone patio, a pergola strung with soft Edison bulb lights, and planters built right into the woodwork. There’s even a sleek built-in bench that curves around a fire pit in the corner like it was lifted from a designer’s sketchbook.

Of course Joel would know how to make something like this. He builds things for a living. But damn I'm jealous. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” he says, flipping a burger with practiced indifference.

“Well, your daughter is oddly persuasive.”

“She gets it from her mom,” he mutters, and then glances at me. There’s sweat darkening the collar of his t-shirt, a smudge of soot on his forearm, and the look in his eyes, teasing, but cautious, makes something tangle up in my chest. 

"Burgers look dark," I say in an effort to change my thought process. 

"Is that a compliment or a complaint?”

“Guess I'll know when I eat one,” I admit.

He smirks, noticing my eyes go across his backyard again. My obvious jealousy must show on my face because he's chuckling. 

“You’re staring."

“I’m not,” I lie, because I am. “I’m just trying to figure out how many hours of HGTV and ego it took to make this place happen.”

He grins, setting the tongs down. “Ego? Please. This is pure craftsmanship.”

“Craftsmanship,” I echo, nodding solemnly. “Is that what we’re calling this level of overcompensation now?”

He lets out a short laugh and leans against the edge of the deck railing. This is comfortable for us, this gentle ribbing. It forces reminders of pregnancy and cups in bathrooms from our brains. 

Sarah calls out to telling me she wants to show me something. I use it as an excuse to step away, feeling Joel’s eyes on my back as I arrive to Sarah is showing me her new bike, the one she saved for with all her babysitting money. I give my compliments but mostly I watch her smile and the way she arches her brow like Joel when I say something asinine about not having streamers for the handles.

I listen to her patiently explain why she picked this specific model and I can see the way she worked hard to get it. These are all admirable traits, ones I want our baby- no, my baby - to have. Fingers crossed all her good attributes aren't from her mother. 

The afternoon isn’t terrible, if I’m honest. The food’s actually great; Joel can grill like it’s an Olympic event and there's corn on the cob, biscuits, chips and more. 

Sarah keeps the conversation going enough that I don’t feel like I’m intruding. We sit at a beautifully done patio table that I'm sure Joel made by hand. With Sarah taking the only seat across from us I'm forced in next to Joel, our knees bumping every so often. 

Joel’s less gruff when he’s got a beer in hand and a chatty daughter as a distraction. Noticing that I can't drink beer Joel pours me a tall glass from the jug of lemonade so sweet it sputter a choke. 

"I made it," Sarah announces proudly. 

"It's perfect," I say between small coughs. I catch Joel grinning behind his burger. He nudges my shoulder with his. 

"You need another glass? Seems like you dribbled most of that one down your front." 

"Dad! Be nice or she's never gonna come back," Sarah admonishes through a mouthful of burger. 

"Don't worry Sarah. I came for your company not his," I promise with a wink. 

"S'that so?" Joel says with fake offense. "No dessert for you then." 

"I'm the one that dessert," Sarah reminds him. 

"Oh right."

All at once she and I meet eyes across the table and burst into laughter at his response. 

And I look over, expecting to see Joel frowning or at least pretending to be irritated. But instead he's wearing this soft look as he glances between us and when we lock eyes there's something curling beneath my skin that feels unfamiliar and a little dangerous. 

I look away quickly with my cheeks burning, listening as Sarah asks Joel about their upcoming boat day with Uncle Tommy. I find myself intrigued with Sarah's stories about growing up with Joel. About camping trips and Joel's first day at the construction company with his brother Tommy. 

I learn a lot about the family. How Joel and his ex Penny split when Sarah was two. How for a while when she was transferred overseas for her dream job that it was just Joel and Sarah against the world. 

They all have a good relationship now and ever since she moved back, Penny is an active part of Sarah's life. And through it all I glance at Joel through my hair, seeing the way he smiles at his daughter, never interrupting her. How he nods and laughs and genuinely seems to enjoy her company. 

After a while I realize that despite my previous hesitation I'm actually enjoying my time here with both of them. It's comfortable. I like laughing and eating and relaxing with the Millers, it feels great actually.

And then I go inside to use the bathroom, my stomach a little rumbly. For a moment I worry that Joel might have overcooked the meat.

Sarah offers to show me where if it's and I'm momentarily distracted by the sight of Joel's, neat and tidy home because the moment I cross the threshold, it hits me: this is the first time I’ve been inside Joel Miller's house.

I think I thought maybe it would feel unfinished, rough around the edges like him. But instead, it’s calm and warm and lived in. I hesitate in the hallway. A framed drawing hangs there, a child’s sketch in marker, thick and wobbly.

To the best  Dad in the world, Love Sarah.

 A little house with flowers, a sun, and two stick figures holding hands. It guts me, just a little because it's obvious Joel keeps it right there, where he can see it every day.

For some reason I thought that I'd see a lot of empty beer bottles and clothes strewn about. And while there is the lived in quality, I cannot say that just anything less than tidy. 

"Just there," Sarah days pointing to a door. "I'm grabbing some cupcakes. You want one?"

"Chocolate?"

"I'm not a barbarian. Of course chocolate."

I laugh.  "Sure. Thanks!"

I find the bathroom down the hall and flick on the light. It’s surprisingly clean. Minimalist. No clutter on the counter, just a soap dispenser shaped like a seashell and a pink towel folded with military precision. 

Girl dad. 

I'm humming some dumb pop song Sarah had playing on her dad's phone earlier, when I feel it.

That unmistakable shift, a twinge and then the gut drop and I freeze, tears springing along my water line.

No. No no no. Please no. 

I tug down my jean shorts and panties, ass hitting the porcelain and I feel my stomach drop further. 

There it is. Blood. A visceral reminder of my failure. I stare at the bathroom wall, throat tight, heart hammering. It didn’t take. Again. My body made the decision for me. Final, Indifferent and cruel.

The rest happens on autopilot. I clean up. Flush. I haven't bled through my shorts thankfully. I wash my hands again even though I already did. 

I stare at myself in the mirror for a long moment, hands braced on the edge of the sink.

My face in the mirror looks normal, too normal because it doesn't look like the face of someone whose entire hope just slipped quietly away without so much as a warning cramp.

I slip out the side door, muttering something vague to Sarah about forgetting an errand, and ignore Joel when he calls after me from the grill, “You good?”

I’m not good.

I walk home, eyes burning, arms wrapped around myself like they can hold everything together if I just squeeze tight enough.

The knock comes about an hour later and I pretend I don’t hear it. But Joel’s not the kind of man who goes away politely, of her was we may have started out as friends.

“Hey,” he calls through the door. “You left your damn cupcake. ”

I shut my eyes.

More knocking. Then the handle jiggles. “I know you’re home. You're lights are all on."

“Go away, Joel.”

He pauses. "That was fucking rude you know. Sarah spent all afternoon makin' those cupcakes."

"Tell her I'm sorry."

"You can tell her yourself."

My throat tightens.

I don’t want to open the door. I don’t want to see him. But something inside me uncoils, half spite, half despair, and I open it anyway.

Joel’s there, brow furrowed, arms crossed. He looks angry. He takes one look at me and his whole face shifts subtly, but enough.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice lower now. Less bark, more something else.

I exhale. “I got my period.”

It lands between us like a brick. Joel blinks.

“Oh,” he says. Then again, slower. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence. He's a girl dad, not embarrassed but he's not exactly great with it. He is a Southern man after all. 

I fold my arms. “So you can stop acting like i was trying to hurt Sarah's feelings by running out of there.”

Joel rubs the back of his neck. “Shit. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. Why would you? You’re not the one counting days or tracking symptoms or hoping for nausea.”

He shifts. “You could’ve told me.”

“You’re not my boyfriend, Joel. You’re not my anything. You’re just the guy who drops off DNA.”

That stings. I see it in his eyes.

“I care,” he says, voice sharp.

I laugh bitterly and he looks down at the porch boards. 

"I'm sorry I'm being a bitch. This isn't your fault, Joel. I just feel like a failure." 

Joel looks up. 

“What?”

"I'm supposed to be able to do this without so much effort. I feel less than every other woman I see with kids."

He doesn’t speak. The silence stretches so long I almost close the door again.

But then Joel says, "You're not." 

I blink. “What?”

“You're not less than,” he repeats, stepping back. “You're strong and focused and you know what you want. You'll be a great mom some day and that kid'll be the luckiest child in the world to have you as a parent." 

Then he shocks me further. 

"And we can keep this thing going until it sticks."

I blink up at him. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I'm afraid I'm going to start crying. 

"Joel I can't ask that of you, I finally say shakily. 

"I'm offerin', you just let me know when to come by." He looks awkward now. “Alright. I’ll, uh, let you be.”

He turns and starts back down my porch steps, the sagging wood creaking underfoot.

“Joel?”

He stops, head turned to the side, profile strong. "Yes?"

"Please tell Sarah I'm sorry about the cupcakes."

“I'll get her to drop you one tomorrow,” he says, “but only if I don't eat em all myself first." 

i'm really glad that so many of you are commenting and sharing and letting me know what you like. i would love if it you would keep doing that! xx

💋💋💋💋

[ricciardo133]

maxiel - cry

thank you, em!! this smut got a bit sappy...

London 2016 (maxiel, semi-public mirror sex, under-negotiated praise kink, discussions of self-image, horndog Daniel)

"Do you actually own any clothes that aren't from Red Bull or Hollister?"

Max glances up at Daniel as they stand at the luggage carousel. Daniel gives him an over-exaggerated once over that makes his younger teammate bark an embarrassed laugh and cover his chest with a rising flush.

"No shame if not, Verstappen. I also had no fashion sense when I was your age."

"Do you mean that you actually have fashion sense now?" Max quips, giggling and then giggling harder when Daniel smiles and throws a faux punch. "I don't know what brands they are, but I have other clothes."

"Hm. I'll believe it when I see it," Daniel says back as he pulls his suitcase off the parade of bags. Max grabs his and they follow an RBR manager out of the airport terminal and into a waiting Aston Martin after signing a few items from a smattering of surprised fans. As they settle in the back, Daniel puts a hand on Max's skinny jeaned knee and falls into his seat with a huff. Max adjusts the hem of his jacket and zips the Red Bull issued team kit as high as it can go, burying his chin in the collar like a turtle so only his candy apple cheeks, bright blue eyes, and cropped gelled hair are visible.

Daniel feels that buzz of something warm and heady he can't place as he smiles at him. Over the past few months, there's been some new, potent mix of blossoming affection and surprising horniness that makes Daniel uneasy. He feels he's constantly hitting snooze on a wordless, ill-advised need for more around Max Verstappen. Don't shit where you eat, he'd tell himself. Don't fuck a coworker, especially a dude, especially one so cute and pliable. Daniel stares out the window and tries not to think about how pliable Max is or what it'd be like to feel it for himself.

Their manager for the day in shotgun turns back as they drive and informs them they have some time to kill before a Wednesday sponsor visit ahead of the busy GP weekend. Daniel taps his chin and looks over at his teammate.

"Whatcha feeling, Verstappen? We could cheat at a pub, watch a match? A little crab cakes and football, baby."

"I don't like crab."

"It's a reference. You ever seen Wedding Crashers?"

"No?"

Daniel clutches his chest. "No fashion sense and no exquisite film knowledge. This is dire shit. You need me, Max." A flash in the corner of his eye makes Daniel jump. "Oh sweet. We can fix one of those right now."

He taps their manager's shoulder, asking them to pull over. He lets her and the driver know they'll be set here for an hour as he pushes Max out of the car and into the upscale menswear boutique. Max shifts on his feet as Daniel schmoozes with the store clerks, and after some selfies and signatures, Daniel secures him and Max a private dressing room.

"I don't need any clothes, Daniel," Max says as Daniel follows him into the small, warm space. He closes the door and sets down a pile of shirts and pants in a variety of sizes on the dressing room's plush velvet chair. Some spill out onto the floor before them. Daniel stands behind Max at the tryptic of mirrors. He gently pushes Max's tensed shoulders down, sensing again the delicate clay of his younger teammate, how scarily easy it all is to press and pull and pry. "I don't like shopping."

"I'm doing the shopping for you. You're just getting dressed. I grabbed some random cool looks on the fly, so what size are you?"

"Uh, my fireproofs are the small to medium sized ones. Medium? Usually? I could get my measurements if I call Jake since we just did the seat fitting a few months ago and-"

Daniel sighs and fiddles with the tag on the back of Max's shirt. Max jumps, choosing freeze over flight or fight as Daniel delicately handles the fabric around his neck. The fine blonde hairs above his collar are soft to the touch.

"You really don't get out much, do you?" Daniel asks.

"Not to the cool places you go. I don't need much."

"C'mon, man. How do you expect to score any chicks on the road looking like this?"

Max goes silent. "I know. I am not so good looking."

It's now Daniel's turn to freeze, one hand on Max's shoulder and the other at his neck. "Wait, roll it back, Max Emiliano. Not what I meant."

"It's okay. I know it. I'm not as good looking as you."

"Don't sweat it, pal. No one's topping me," Daniel jokes, but he looks up. In the dressing room reflection, he can see Max's eyes are glassy. Daniel squeezes both hands on Max's forearms, feeling his soft, unflexed bicep give wonderfully under his grasp.

"Hey, hey, hey," Daniel says. "Bud, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's not just you. I'm just not. I know I'm not."

"Oh, come on. Who told you that?" Max looks askance.

"I don't need to be told it to know. But also the internet exists."

Daniel feels a surprising surge of indignation on Max's behalf. "They fucking hate ya 'cause they ain't ya, Max. Don't believe a fucking word of it. You're so cute."

Max's blue eyes widen like he's turned on the high beams. The dewiness of his gaze leaks out in two perfect, opalescent tears that makes Daniel's heart ache to a degree he'd never expect over a coworker, never expect over a guy, but Max is so soft right now. So fragile.

"You're just saying that."

"No way. I'm a certified hotness assessor. You got literally everything a girl would want in a dude. Strong shoulders," Daniel says giving them a shake as they look at Max's reflection in the mirror. Daniel watches Max's gaze lock onto Daniel's hands. "Unreal eyelashes. Full lips. Crazy cheekbones. Your face just works, y'know?"

Max shakes his head, making one of the tears take a sharp racing line down to his jaw. His Adam's apple bobs with a dry swallow.

"You're stunning, Max."

"Daniel," he says, voice breaking on his name. Daniel's dick betrays him, stiffening as blood gets poorly budgeted from his brain to his cock. Something inside him snaps. He needs more, whatever would get Max to sound like that again.

"You know it, right? How stunning you are? In the car and out?" Max whimpers, eyes blinking faster than Daniel's ever seen them to futilely try and keep the tears inside. Those long lashes flutter over wet cheeks. "You take people's breath away, Max. You take my breath away."

Max squirms in his spot. Daniel gazes down Max's reflection, seeing his hardening length threefold in the angled mirror before them.

"I meant look at you," Daniel says, brain reeling and pirouetting as his hands slide under Max's shirt and lift it, revealing a pale flat tummy and earnestly endearing leather belt. Daniel lowers one hand to slip a finger inside the waist band of the exposed boxers. "You're gorgeous, Max."

"Daniel, I- this is so...it's..." Max's gaze meets Daniel's in the mirror and then back down to watch Daniel's fingers slip deeper. "It's good." Daniel undoes Max's belt with a deft, one-handed unclasp. Max makes that enthralling whimper again that sends every shred of Daniel's remaining rational thought to the bin as he unbuttons Max's skinny jeans and unzips.

"You're such a good boy, Max."

Max keens, hand flying to cover his mouth. "Daniel, I'm...we're...we're in public."

"Then we can be quick," he says. "If you want to keep going?"

"Yes. God, yes." Max's eyes leak with tears as Daniel's hands take opposite routes, one up to cup a burgeoning breast and the other to wrap around Max's cock. Daniel feels along the length, wetting the shaft with precome. "Daniel."

"Such a fucking good boy," Daniel says into his warm neck, pumping and letting Max's ass hit his own hard length. It's too good. Max is sobbing with choked, quiet pleas as Daniel whispers sweet nothings into his ear like he'd do with a Monaco hook-up, not his teammate. The flicker of doubt is painted over as Max's head falls back onto Daniel's chest, thick neck straining and flushed as he nears the breaking point.

"Be a good boy and come for me, Max."

He does. Max spills out onto Daniel's hand, come splattering onto the mirror as Max chokes on his name and shivers in the comedown. Daniel holds him steady and stares at how ravaged he made Max all while he's still fully clothed in Red Bull merch and dark blue jeans. Max blinks up at him in the reflection.

"Was that okay?" he asks, voice small and raspy.

"More than okay. If it was, for you? Ah, Max," Daniel says with blindingly sharp and unwanted moment of clarity. "Fuck, was that too much?"

"No. I...well, I obviously um...liked it a lot."

"We can just keep this on the downlow, yeah? Bros jerk each other off all the time, so it's no big deal, right?" Max nods quickly. "And we'll tell the store clerks the mirror already had come on it when we got in here."

"Daniel," Max laughs in shock.

"Just joshing. I'll lick it clean."

"Daniel." This time less humored, more keen.

Daniel pats his shoulders one last time. He bites his lip. He's still hard and wanting, but Max is so ravished. He wants to kiss his neck and spin him around and kiss all over that unreal face, but that's too much. It's all probably too much.

"Do you need...?" Max offers, almost as if reading his mind. Daniel shakes his head.

"I'm really into gooning. I'll wait til the hotel."

"I cannot tell when you're joking sometimes, Daniel."

"Well, I wasn't joking about you being cute. So no more shit talking yourself, aight?"

Daniel holds out a hand, still damp with come for a handshake. Max laughs and shakes on it.

"It's a deal, Daniel." Max's brows furrow in a swell of emotion. He wipes at his wet cheeks. "Thank you."

"Anytime." And he meant it. "Now we do have to clean up, and I'm just going to buy the clothes that got jizz on them as a courtesy to the staff. I hope you like," Daniel pauses and picks up a come-covered jean button-up, "great, even more jean. The universe has dubbed thee 'jean boy'."

"Oh, that's actually not a bad shirt. I'll wear that. After I wash it, of course." Max bites his full lip and meets his gaze. Daniel sucks in a breath.

He's gorgeous. And those fucking eyes still rimmed red and dewy with overwhelm. Daniel knows he has to be careful, or he could drown in that sea of blue and this dizzying ocean of tears.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

just a little misplaced

Prompt #7 - The Good, The Bad and The Ugly | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, A Bit of Grave Robbing | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Eddie & Corroded Coffin, Steddie | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Hawkins Just Doesn't Know That

"Literally everything about this is illegal," Goodie says, leaning on his shovel, not doing a bit of digging. Eddie looks up at him from the hole in the ground that they've been digging. Slowly. Very slowly. It's harder than it looks in the movies.

"Well, I wouldn't have to do this if you hadn't helped Wayne bury all my favorite shit in a hole in the ground," Eddie whines. He cannot believe that's what they did when they thought he was dead. They could have just kept it, the assholes.

"What part of 'we thought you were dead' do you not understand? It's not like we thought you were coming back for it," Gareth snaps, popping Eddie in the calf with his shovel. Eddie hits him back with his own.

They don't have time for that kind of back and forth all-out war to start. 

"Ungrateful assholes," Eddie snaps, digging his shovel back into the dirt. Luckily it's fresh enough that it isn't totally impossible to dig through.

It's still time consuming, though.

Headlights cross the trees, illuminating the darkness and they all stop breathing. They chose this night specifically because it would be so goddamn dark. But now, that darkness makes those headlights seem close. Too close. If they get caught acting like graverobbers, they're gonna be so fucked. 

Especially since Eddie shouldn't be here. Eddie shouldn't be anywhere other than lost somewhere in the earthquake fissure. He definitely shouldn't be holding a shovel, digging up his own grave.

The crunch of gravel signals that the vehicle is indeed coming into the cemetery, not just passing along the road, and they've just gotta lay low and hope for the best. 

"Fuck," Gareth says, "we are so fucked."

He's not wrong.

Because this could get good, bad or really fucking ugly, quick. 

"Down, get down," Eddie hisses, and Gareth ducks with him down into the hole while Jeff and Goodie lay down on their bellies, getting as flat as possible in the freshly disturbed dirt. 

The car stops, engine going quiet, and they wait.

"I can see you, you know?" a voice calls out, and Eddie laughs. 

Steve. It's just Steve.

That's not just good, that's great. The best case scenario, honestly.

Eddie pops his head out of his own grave, and leans against the edge of the crudely dug hole, looking in Steve's direction. He can't really see him, it's way too dark for that, but just knowing he's there is enough to make Eddie smile. 

"Hey, Harrington! Grab a shovel, Goodie ain't using his," Eddie hollers, and resumes his digging. The faster they can get this finished, the less likely they're gonna get caught by someone other than Steve Harrington.

Steve hops in the hole, helping Gareth out. Eddie watches Gareth rub at his palms, "If I get callouses that fuck with my drumming just to dig up your shit, I'm gonna be pissed."

"You're always pissed," Goodie says, leaning against Eddie's headstone. It was fucking weird to see his own name written in stone, like he was dead.

He wasn't dead, just a little misplaced for a bit.

Steve thumps the point of his shovel against the wooden coffin lid. 

"Got it," Steve says. 

"Fuck yes," Eddie declares, as he gets down start digging out the rest of it so they can actually open the lid.

It's been hours, daylight is approaching, and they really need to get this shit done. Now.

He pulls out his vest. It's bloodstained, filthy from its time in the Upside Down, but Eddie's glad to see it again. He gets why Steve put it to rest here, but he kind of wishes he'd just kept it. 

Eddie gathers up albums, and various other trinkets. They must have decided if they didn't have a body, they'd have to equal his weight using his belongings.

Finally, underneath everything else, is what he was digging for the most.

"Hi, Sweetheart," he says, touching the guitar case with tender fingers. Then he hoists her up to Jeff, who takes her with care. Grabbing the last few loose rings scattered inside the satin lining, Eddie thinks they've gotten it all.

"That it?" Steve asks, quickly pulling himself out of the hole. 

"That's it," Eddie confirms, and then realizes what Steve did wasn't as easy as it looked. Eddie isn't as coordinated, isn't as strong, and they have to help pull him out. He collapses onto the ground, splaying flat.

"We don't have time for that," Gareth says, already shoveling dirt back into the hole.

They don't. He's right. The sun is starting to warm the horizon, and while Eddie doubts anybody will be out here bright and early, that's a risk they shouldn't take.

Kicking dirt in, shoveling as fast as they can, they work to quickly refill the hole. It's still gonna look dug up, there's no preventing that. But Eddie just hopes that if anyone sees it they'll assume it was somebody desecrating the murderer and not say a goddamn word. 

It's not like he had grass grown over yet or anything, it won't look too fresh for long. They might just get away with it.

They put all his stuff into a trash bag, except for Sweetheart. Once Eddie's hands are emptied, Jeff hands her over. 

"Buried in a hole," Eddie mutters, hugging the case close to his body, "How could they?"

"Thought you were dead," Gareth mutters again.

"Could've pawned her. Made a few bucks," Goodie adds, and Eddie gasps in horror. The thought. 

"We need to get you out of town," Jeff insists, and Eddie knows Jeff's right. Eddie left here for a reason.

Eddie puts Sweetheart into the car, as the rest of them load the tools.

"How'd you know we were here?" Eddie asks. They specifically didn't tell Steve they were doing this. He never would have approved.

"Eddie," Steve says, taking Eddie by both shoulders, "like it or not, I know you well."

Eddie grins. 

Yeah.

He does.

[anacdoce]

OC Layers Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @bhaal-battle-beer-bard and @amoremagnificentbastard🖤 it's always a pleasure to read about your OC's 🥰

As for me, I'll bring my Raven to this game, of course.

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: Raven Farwind

Eye Color: Chocolate brown

Hair Style/Color: Black hair always braided with bangs.

Height: 1,65m

Clothing Style: She always wears black, comfortable clothes. When she's on a job she usually prefers to wear leather pants and leather shirts, sometimes with a corset (the girl has to be prepared to run easily if the need arise), but she likes to wear simple long dresses too when she goes out. As for the shoes, my girl always wears boots, high, black leather boots.

Best Physical Feature(s): For her? Nothing. She can't appreciate herself. For me as her creator? Fuck. EVERYTHING. She is so beautiful and some times I want to slap myself for not letting her see that. But well, Astarion will do it for me 😏

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: Raven fears to be left alone, alone to deal with her deamons, who always push her to do the wrong things.

Guilty Pleasure: Big mugs of cold beer.

Biggest Pet Peeve: Pet names. She hates it. (Are you seeing where this is going? 😂)

Ambition for the Future: To do everything for her father.

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thoughts Waking Up: "All I want is to fall asleep again..."

What They Think About the Most: "I'm no one. Nobody see me."

What They Think About Before Bed: "How much longer do I have to put up with this? I'm so tired..."

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: The way she moves between the shadows without being seen.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Dogs or Cats? Huh... Birds? 😅

Single or Group Dates?

To be Loved or Respected?

Beauty or Brains?

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: All of her life.

Believe in Yourself: A big NOPE.

Believe in Love: To others? Yes, she believes it. To herself? Not really.

Want Someone: Although she doesn't admit it, that's all she ever wanted.

LAYER SIX: HAVE YOU EVER?

Been on Stage: No. Nor will she.

Done Drugs: No.

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: AHAH no. Never. She doesn't care if she fits or not.

LAYER SEVEN: WHAT’S THEIR…

Favorite colors: Black.

Favorite animal: Ravens.

Favorite book: She's not a fan of reading.

Favorite game: She loves to play catch and hide and seek 😏

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

DOB: She's a girl of winter.

How Old Will You Be: She's 28.

Does Age Matter: Before meeting Astarion? No. After meeting him? Since she's a human, it matters a lot.

LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: "My papa."

I feel: "Empty. I'm just surviving."

I hide: "A desire so deep to be seen."

I miss: "The times when I was free and naive."

I wish: "I could believe again. I wish I could have a way out. I wish a change on the tides, a new whistle on the winds, or else I wish the cold to freeze me."

All the shots above are from @iizven, the personal photographer of my beautiful Raven. Thank you for all of those again, my love ❤️

No pressure tags: @bloodinwine; @meeshrox; @xxnashiraxx; @saucy-scribbler; @roguishcat; @poetsiren

I bit late, so if you have been tagged already, ignore this.

[brainrotcharacters]

the easy grip on the knife. the leg over the seat. the hand over the other seat. the sassy "come get it" move. you know the bitch is smiling behind that mask even as he said the line.

[carlyraejepsans]

it is eight in the goddamn morning

[deffonotlily]

cutting edge 🎀 (george clarke x reader smau)

Author's Note: I so appreciate the lovely response my last smau got, so here's another one! Please give it a like and a reblog if you enjoy, really trying to grow my blog atm! Also any feedback is appreciated, too. // p.s if you have any suggestions for future smaus, please just send me an ask xx

pairing: george clarke x hairdresser!reader, features from some of the other crew

description: you've spent your life building the business of your dreams - when your work starts to gain traction online, who knows who you'll meet along the way?

warnings: none, really! just fluffy stuff forever // all pics sourced on instagram or pinterest, y/n is female presenting

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hairbyyn

liked by livvydimartino, sabinablair_, yourbestfriend, yoursalon and others

hairbyyn a few fresh heads from the last couple days ❤️‍🔥

tagged livvydimartino, sabinablair_, yoursalon

livvydimartino amazing job as always y/n, you are magic ✨ hairbyyn come back soon x

faithlouisak love love love hairbyyn omg thank you faith!

sabinablair_ brb recommending you to all of my friends x yourusername you angellll 🥰

hairbyyn posted a story!

' thank you so much for all of the enquiries - i'm just getting around to responding to dms now. i've spent my life building this salon and i'm so lucky to have everyone's support. lets go!! @/yoursalon '

yourusername

liked by faithlouisak, lando, bambinobecky and others

yourusername life comes at ya fast girls

yourbestfriend pretty girl x yourusername ily x

milzzjo miss you yourusername miss you too mills, meet up soon ❤️

max_balegde check your dms hoe yourusername oop sorry boo

max_balegde posted a story!

'the only haircut i've gotten that hasn't traumatised me. thank you to @/hairbyyn for sorting me out last minute for the BAFTAs 💌'

hairbyyn

liked by willne, jamesmarriottyt, georgeclarkeey and others

hairbyyn so delighted to finally share this with you! thanks so much to will and james for the opportunity, it was my pleasure. btw, i got paid in a lifetime supply of rodds 🕺 tagged willne, jamesmarriottyt, georgeclarkeey, gingerbreadlamb and roddsroddsrodds

willne best mullets ever seen

georgeclarkeey can't believe i had to hide the fresh cut with that police hat yourusername worth it officer

user1 oh shes famous famous

user2 why is NO ONE talking about y/ns reply to george

jamesmarriottyt thanks so much y/n! 😎

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, chrismd10, italianbach and others

yourusername whatever happens, i'm letting it tagged yourbestfriend, livvydimartino, glambyflo, sabinablair_

user3 OHHHHH who is that in pic 3

user4 okay tag everyone but the guy

yourbestfriend 👀 okay girl tell us NOTHING

georgeclarkeey i say we don't leave the strawberries out where gizmo can get them ever again user5 GEORGE SPILLED THE BEANS LIVE ON INSTAGRAM

livvydimartino 💖 yourusername 💖

georgeclarkeey posted a story!

yourusername posted a story!

georgeclarkeeyy

liked by yourusername, arthurfnhill, willne and others

georgeclarkeey Some recent side quests and the best haircut of my life

italianbach whipped livvydimartino ur one to talk

arthurfnhill everybody knows that im a good girl officer

liked by yourusername

user1 SOFT LAUNCH I REPEAT SOFT LAUNCH

user2 thats y/n if i've ever seen it

chrismd10 a woman on the george clarke instagram page? who wouldve thunk it

yourusername the best model of my life georgeclarkeey shush you x

hairbyyn

liked by yoursalon, georgeclarkeey, soph, chrismd10 and others

hairbyyn what started as doing hair in my room for my friends before nights out has turned into something i could only ever dream of as a little girl. i cannot thank you all enough for your continued support and to all the people i've met along the way, i will love you all forever!

while my client list is now closed, you can join our wait list through the link in @/yoursalon bio, thank you all again x

georgeclarkeey never ever going to another barber again georgeclarkeey i'm so proud of you poppet yourusername okay fine you can have a free haircut x

yourbestfriend cannot believe you still have that picture of us, congratulations my love 😻

faithlouisak my hair has never looked better 💇‍♀️

hairbyyn posted a story!

'congratulations to lando for winning his home race today! it was so great to be able to get him in for a refresh of his iconic cut before Silverstone. LN4 on top!!'

yourusername

liked by arthurfnhill, arthurtv, chrismd10 and others

yourusername it's about time for the hard launch, i think. i brought my boyfriend to work today and i couldnt have asked for a better assistant. never ever ever stop being just you, clarke.

georgeclarkeey lets cut @/georgerussell63 hair next! georgerussell63 absolutely not, mate

georgeclarkeey never ever ever stop being just you, either

arthurtv mr clarke keeping us fed on main

chrismd10 stop giggling at your phone george arthurfnhill we can both hear you

user1 okay then i'm deleting my account

user2 screaming crying throwing up

user3 okay lowkey y/n and george both deserve this so much they work so hard

sidemen collab soon? 😎 user4 okay sidemen admin i guess the hairs getting a bit long

georgeclarkeey posted a story!

'no stream tonight guys. as you can see i have died and gone to heaven'

yourusername posted a story!

'taking a well deserved break to just be. chat soon x'

[plusultraetc]

stop he's a baby 😭

[peacockrulz]

N tries to tell another joke (gone wrong)

Sequel to This

[ladsofsorrow24]

happy birthday to me and my boy yamamoto takeshi❕🥳🎂

commission link -> (x)

[revolxtionarygay]

I’m months late, lmao. Initially, I was like "Oh, I need time to process this," after watching the play, and then, upon thinking, I realized I wasn't as organized on the comparison as I would have liked. Anyways, this gets a little longer than I'd usually post, so I'm going to put the rest under a cut.

Now, the performance I saw in Paris plays the characters of Huis Clos straight out as Bad People, which I mean, come on, valid. They're all in Hell. They've all done decently heinous things. Estelle throwing the baby off the balcony. Inès sleeping with her cousin's wife and driving him to commit suicide. Garcin cheating on his wife, caring little for what she thought of him and instead preferring the approval of men who are shown to think little of him because he's no one to them. Etcetera, etcetera. I tend to read the characters as a little more sympathetic, but I won't deny it was fascinating to watch a downright cruel portrayal of the characters.

When I first read Huis Clos, I was tempted to put Juri, Shiori, and Ruka into what I now think would have been the most obvious comparisons to the play—Juri as Inès because they're both lesbians, Shiori as Estelle because they're the object of Juri's/Inès' attraction, and Ruka as Garcin because, hey, he's a guy searching for Juri's attention and getting the attention from Shiori (same as Garcin). But in a way, the cyclical way that Sartre posits the characters of Huis Clos ultimately makes it possible for Juri, Shiori, and Ruka to fill any of the roles in the play. Do I think the aforementioned character match-up is the most suited for them? Yeah, but I think it is possible to argue that Juri is Garcin / Shiori is Inès / Ruka is Estelle. If you wanted to argue that. I currently don't.

My favorite part of Huis Clos is not Garcin's moment where he declares that "Hell is other people," though that's obviously the most famous line. My favorite part of the entire play is when Garcin looks to Inès and begs her to forget about Estelle, to let go of her desire for Estelle, to let go of her hatred for him, so on and so forth. Garcin tells Inès, "It's a trap" (referring to Estelle), to which Inès responds, "I know. And you, you're a trap, too...and I am a trap."

Ultimately, while it doesn't fit them perfectly, this moment reminds decently of Ruka and Juri. Consider Ruka, sick and dying and using his final days in an attempt to "free" Juri from what binds her or whatever (sorry, I did not go back and rewatch the episodes). He knows the cycle of the duels and sees Shiori as she is, but he doesn't seem to realize that Juri knows it just as well. He tries to free her, but she doesn't want that from him. She knows the cycle of the duels; she's lost against Utena twice. She knows—or at least seems to be somewhat aware—that Shiori will pick someone that Juri isn't and that she can't change that, as much as it pains her. She knows. He knows. Shiori likely knows, too.

Juri even has the experience to know that, even without Ruka, this cycle would exist because it happened to her and Shiori back in middle school. Kind of like how in Huis Clos, every character has their own cycle of attention they're caught in before the events of the play.

If Juri is Inès, then is Shiori both her Estelle and Florence? Is Ruka the cousin she drove to suicide?

If Shiori is Estelle, then is Ruka both her Garcin and her fling (that she drove to suicide)? Is Juri the husband she avoids? Or is it the other way around?

And if Ruka is Garcin, the Juri must be his Gomez and Inès. Shiori, the wife he cares little for. (Somehow, this is the one that feels the most concrete, especially when compared to Shiori as Estelle).

I could go on and on and never really find an answer I fully like. But essentially, those are the most basic thoughts I have on Huis Clos and Juri, Shiori, and Ruka.

Someone who’s only ever read Huis Clos/No Exit watching the Juri-Shiori-Ruka arc in Revolutionary Girl Utena for the first time: oh my god it’s just like Huis Clos.

[grungepoetica]

I'M BACK IN THE FUCKING PIZZERIA AGAIN

[flowerakatsuka]

it's a moral obligation that i draw every ship i'm hyperfixated on older & still disgustingly in love with each other at least once.