#edit 2: found his name!
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cinnamonsikwate · 11 months ago
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i still hate how the onus was on zon and his people to "prove" that orcs were capable of more than violence meanwhile marcille didn't do a goddamn thing to change their minds about elves being raging bigots. funny how she thinks elves (a long-lived race with powerful magic) and orcs (a short-lived race with no magic as far as we can see) are on a level playing field when it comes to securing land and resources!
and having bahai, zon's child, be the one to go "why can't we all just get along" like ooh ryoko kui some crimes cannot be forgiven
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yumenosakiacademy · 3 months ago
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keekity · 8 months ago
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popular kids & their cringe-fail counterparts
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sweetlullabyebye · 11 months ago
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cuteniaarts · 5 months ago
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@katkastrofa: *writes a single throwaway line in one chapter of Lost and Found that is never referenced again*
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Me, completely randomly and with no prompting: Alright, bet–
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#my art#artists on tumblr#the legend of korra#original characters#as if I don’t have enough of those already#I really don’t know what possessed me here. I mean. sometimes my mind did drift to this mention of Zaheer’s sisters#because broken bonds is my absolute favourite LaF chapter. but I ever really thought of them that much since Kat never brought them up agai#and then about 24h ago I randomly remembered them again and was like. hey. p’li and ghazan’s sisters play a huge role in our stories#and ming-hua is an only child. so what of zaheer’s sisters? what are they like? do they ever cross his mind? are they aware of his crimes?#and in the afternoon I went digging through my art supplies bc I felt like painting and found my old 2020-2022 sketchbook with 2 empty page#so I thought. why not. it’s been a while since I’ve done traditional art. so I pulled up a reference of rich EK outfits from the artbooks#and got to work. drew this up in about half an hour? traditional sketching is a lot faster than digital for some reason#then took a picture and cleaned up and coloured in procreate. and I’m really happy with the end result#this was hella fun to do as well so.. win-win?#alright enough backstory rambling. on to the characters themselves#I looked up Zaheer’s name and apparently that particular spelling is urdu in origin. so I went off that#the article I found was written edited and fact checked by three pakistani women so I think it’s about as trustworthy as these things go#summiya means ‘a woman of proper name’ and aiza means ‘respected high place in society’. which I thought were fitting for noble girls#for outfits and hairstyles. like I said. I turned to the avatar artbooks. those things are life savers. I just played around with colours#looks wise I colour picked from zaheer and then shifted around a little so they look similar enough yet not like clones of each other#but they’re also teenagers here so they wouldn’t resemble book 3 Zaheer much anyway#kat never mentioned ages but since their mother was looking for matches I assumed they were older than zaheer#he ran off at 11 or 12 iirc. so I decided they would have been 16 and 14 respectively#though in their community matches are probably made much earlier than actual marrying age. still.#if it was such a pressing matter that their mother was ‘preoccupied’ with it. then they were probably teenagers right#that’s what I’m gonna go for anyway since currently I have no information to disprove any of this#oh yeah Kat btw if you did have images of Zaheer’s sisters in mind before this then you don’t have to replace them. I just filled a blank#we’ve never talked about them so I assume there’s nothing. feel free to correct me. maybe someday we’ll discuss their personalities/lives#all I have is that they probably weren’t too close with zaheer. and their lives now are all about husbands kids and status. but we’ll see#hope you like them anyways <3
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crescentfool · 2 years ago
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happy cryptid splatfest everyone! a little contribution to team aliens based on this song! 🛸
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shwarmii · 1 year ago
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i never realized Viktor was missing from Disenchanted Fashions before (or at least tumblr isnt showing him) and i am having so much fun with that bit of freedom towards his wardrobe jfc
#idk what style im drawing him in is technically called#mall goth?? cyber goth??? techwear goth????? it is a lot of belts plus a harness. bro loved Kingdom Hearts#i had several irl friends who were Alternative Gays before they realized they were eggs. something about the gender nonconformity#my favorite part of these aesthetics is the reuse and mending and so i am having fun giving Vik and Amri#patches and having them repurpose certain parts of their wardrobe again and again like Viktor As A Teen has#a belt chain with a star that later becomes a piece of horn jewlery. the pins on his beanie move to his backpack etc#bro always wears the same earrings#its my hc his parents didnt like the aesthetic (hence why his teen picture is so limited in its goth aspects) UNTIL they found#out about the anti-trend aspects and the mending and whatnot like. guarantee he will wear these jeans for 10 yrs and then when they#finally tear-- he's going to use them to help repair another pair of jeans from 10 yrs ago. parents (esp of four kids) LOVE that part#very likely none of this is canon buT FUCK IF IM NOT HAVING FUN#the only thing i know about Vik's canon wardrobe is that leaf shirt so ill add that in for his 30+ yr old picture#i just love the idea of Vik The Goth so much let him be OBNOXIOISLY alternative cmon look at the company he keeps#someone feel free to send me ideas for Luci too bc i have a hc that their wardrobe is based almost entirely off of how their mom would#dress then as part of their parents exercising control over Luci and ''protecting the family name'' so like#i think since Luci is so new to having more freedom from their parents rn that Luci hasnt changed styles and the idea is probably#anxiety-inducing even bc of habitual fear of parental backlash. but like. also i want 30s!Luci to be living their best life#(EDIT: OMG I FORGOT I MADE GIGI'S BIO-MOM A MORTICIA ADAMS STYLE GOTH. OMG THAT MAKES HER BFF BEING#GOTH SO MUCH SWEETER WTF??? AND HER MOM WAS 1/3 DRACA TOO. GIGI DOESNT EVEN REMEMBER HER MOM. OMGGG I DIDNT REALIZE#I DID THAT... THEIR TWO GOTH STYLES ARE SO FUCKING DIFFERENT BUT AHH GISELLE'S MOM WAS A GOTH 1/3 DRACA AND HER BFF/MAYBE BF IS A GOTH 1/2#DRACA WTFFFFF MY BRAIN YALL MY FUCKING BRAIN AND THESE CONNECTIONS AHHH)
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realcowboysdrinkjuice · 3 months ago
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i’m so excited to see troy’s dad i listened to the rolled today and apparently it’s not what we expect so like is he gonna be like amazing or is he going to somehow be worse then troy like what happened im so excited
#my troy playlist will definitely need edits lol but to be fair the description is ‘vibe read 2 episodes in’ it was never going to be accurat#e#also like a month ago i was so convinced w the clockwork troy theory and i still really really love it and i want it so bad but idk im not#as convinced anymore#on my pin board i have two sections for him lol#the normal section i have for everyone#and below it a section ‘merge if this turns out canon’#cause it was so fucking cool and i wanted to explore it even though its still theory#there’s also some vibe reads in there as well#i haven’t looked at it since the last two eps tho since i was so busy starting school so maybe it’s time to overhaul#i feel like my pinterest alone could get me an autism diagnosis but alas i don’t want one lmao#me and the desire to collect and ‘collage’ things that remind me of a thing#and it’s all incomprehensibly organized#i’ve said it a hundred times i’ll say it again my pinterest is somehow more embarrassing then my tumblr#i just give people my tumblr#to be fair pinterest is prolly easy to find i accidentally found condis somehow but like#i did not mean to find it either i reallllly hope his last name is already public info cause if not someone other then me could also find it#intentionally or not#cause tbh i just wanted to see if people uploaded screenshots of his mc skins or stuff#i didn’t know what to do so i immediately closed it again and proceeded to immediately forget his last name#benefits of a bad memory#accidentally learned someone’s deadname once (yearbook fucking sucks they did they same to me even after i filled out the name change form)#and i don’t remember it anymore i blocked it out lol#i forget stuff that stresses me out and knowing someone’s birth name when they don’t want people to stresses me out#anyway there’s my rambles fo today i’m so sorry#like if you’re still reading though that’s on you to be fair#my post#also hopefully i didn’t say too much about the rolled but ive seen people post whole clips so i think im okay#to be fair for me personally when i hear something about something i just want the primary source even more#like if you paraphrased it i want the EXACT WORDS FEOM THEIR MPUTH WHAT IF TOU MKSSED SOMETJING WHAT IF WHAT IF primary source my beloved
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daz4i · 7 months ago
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wdym alejandro saab is jing yuan's va how did i not know this...
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gghostwriter · 4 months ago
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Wanted: A Gentleman
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Part 2 || Future take Summary: Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.3k a/n: Back at it again with something miss Sabrina Carpenter inspired. The fluff idea has finally struck and I love how this ended up, even without any editing! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist
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“I’m serious!” You clarified, wiggling to get comfy on Penelope’s sofa. “It was the worst date I’ve ever been on!”
All the three girls laughed. It was Friday night, girl’s night, and you found yourself surrounded by the baddest girls Virginia could ever offer. The Powerpuff girls of the BAU as you once jokingly dubbed them—JJ being Blossom, Penelope being Bubbles, and Emily being Buttercup. Witty thinking on your part, if you say so yourself. 
Having just moved into the state just a few months ago, you were grateful for the ray of sunshine that Penelope was for taking you under her wing and introducing you to a great set of girlfriends.
“It can’t be that bad—” JJ giggled as she took a sip of her newly refilled glass wine. “Can it?”
Bringing out your phone, you swiped to the screenshot Bumble profile of your date the night before. He wasn’t bad looking, not at all. He was cute in a very American boy next door type of way but then again, his profile being filled with gym pictures should have clued you in.
“We had dinner at that newly opened restaurant, Palm & Pine, which is a great place by the way, but all he ever did was talk about himself—”
Emily nodded along. “Typical macho male behavior.”
“—that wasn’t even the worst part! He brought out a scale, a portable weighing scale, to log his macro calories in a fitness app!”
Penelope chose the wrong time to take a sip of her drink causing her cough violently while the two remaining girls threw back their heads and laughed hysterically. All you could hear were gasps of weighing scale and calories between them.
“I’m all for being healthy but really? On a first date?” You crossed your arms to your chest. “At this point, I might as well get a cat or two to keep me company.”
Penelope snatched your phone and clicked to open the dating app. “Oh no no, sweetheart. You’re too beautiful and nice to end up alone. We can find you a perfect man to love and take home with!”
“Yeah, we’re profilers. Trust us to pick for you,” Emily slyly added as she peeked behind Garcia’s shoulder.
Reaching out for the opened bottle of alcohol, you sighed in defeat and let the girls do their thing. “I’m going to need copious amounts of alcohol in my system for this.”
———
It was bad. Based on all their comments and numerous swipes to the left, the dating pool was atrocious, hell on earth. 
“He looks cute—” Penelope continue to scroll on his profile before making a face. “Never mind, look at that horrible grammar.”
JJ leaned in and read the poor man’s bio. “Theirs a million reasons why I’m your future boyfriend—Jesus, it’s really hard out there, huh?”
“I’d take any man who’s nice and breathes,” you laugh in despair. 
Emily’s eyes twinkle from a sudden idea. Everyone had been drinking continuously and the filter had been turned off by the time the third bottle was opened. Any thought made beyond just screamed bad idea. “You know, we could just set you up with Reid.”
“Reid?” you tilted your head to the side. What kind of a name is that? Its very…unique. “You have a co-worker named Reid? As in that’s his first name?”
“No, no, no. His name is Spencer, Reid is just his last name,” JJ clarified, leaning forward with a sweet smile on her face. Oh no, you knew that look. She was very much into this.
Penelope slides your phone to you and promptly claps her hands in glee. “You’re so right! Why didn’t I think of that!”
“Right,” Emily turned to face the other two. “They’d be great for each other. Now we just have to get him to agree. JJ—” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “—can you talk to Reid about it?”
She shrugged. “I could but you know how stubborn he is.”
“I’ll blackmail him if I have to,” Penelope interjected. “Boy genius needs to meet our own girl genius. They’ll be perfect for each other, he just doesn’t know it.”
Your eyes volleyed in between the three. “Don’t I have a say in this?”
Emily tsk’ed as she turned her inquisitive dark eyes on you. “I’ll cash in on that prize I won last time.”
“No,” you breathed out, remembering how you badly lost last poker night and vowed to do any dare the winner would tell you to do.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes,” her smile growing wider and wider with each denial. 
Your shoulders slumped forward. “Fine but he better be the love of my life or you owe me big time.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head. He will be,” Penelope laughed, pouring more wine in all of the glasses. “Cheers!”
———
It took three weeks before the girls were finally able to wear the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid down and in the midst of waiting (and stubbornly hoping that he would never give in), you learned more about the boy genius than you ever wished for. How he has an IQ of 187, graduated high school at the age of 12, has 3 PhDs under his belt, and an avid reader—like yourself. 
You begrudgingly admitted that he spiked your interest and having someone to talk to about books would be lovely but beyond that, you were slightly intimidated by his background which made yours, a literature degree graduate and publishing editor, seem insignificant. Penelope tried to squash that negative thought once you aired it out in the open by saying that Spencer wasn’t the type to judge anyone based on their societal standing. If anything, he’d find you interesting, she urged.
But there was one information you weren’t privy to, how he looks like. The girls didn’t want to show any photos, stating it’s best to see him face to face rather than through an image, which in turn made you imagine the worst. 
You looked around, standing on the second step of the museum as you try to spot any curly, hazel haired man walking your way. He wasn’t late, you were just too anxious to be fashionably late. 
Someone stopped in front of you at the bottom of the steps. 
“Are you—” the doe eyed stranger cleared his throat. “Y/N? Penelope’s friend?”
Oh damn. He was beautiful.
“Yes, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” You squeaked. 
He smiled, stunning you into even more into awe. “Hi, yes. Yes, Spencer is fine.”
“Should we go inside?” You breathed out as you watched his cheeks reddened, no doubt matching the color of your own.
He nodded before slightly touching your arm to stop you in place and bending down like he was some kind of knight and shining armor and for all you knew, he could be. “Your shoelace is undone. Did you know that there’s more than 1,000 cases related to loss of footing each year and 67% of these falls were attribute to untied shoelaces?”
“We wouldn’t want to contribute to that, do we?” You quipped back as you studied how the sunlight hit his wavy locks, turning some into gold, and his doe expressive eyes with specs of green in them. Your favorite color as of today.
He laughed, his high pitched chuckle further capturing your heart. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” 
Your thoughts thanking the three women for setting you up with what seemed to be a perfect gentleman. 
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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choerypetal · 6 months ago
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Hide and Seek / Homelander
(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)
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summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.
!! read part one first! ; !!
ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)
tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea
enjoy xo'
Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.
Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 
"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 
"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 
You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  
Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?
So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...
"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.
Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 
Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 
And then it hit you.
Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 
"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 
There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.
“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 
Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 
She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 
Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 
"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 
A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 
So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 
"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 
“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 
“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 
"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"
Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?
"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.
"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"
You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."
Little mouse.”
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nervoushottee · 9 months ago
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With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.
Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),
Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!
*not edited at all babes*
---- ---- ----- ----
Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 
It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 
After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 
It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 
And that’s when he saw you. 
“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”
Nuri.
Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.
‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 
That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 
“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 
“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 
Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 
“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”
The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 
“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 
“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 
“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.
“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 
Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”
”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”
After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 
—— —— —— ——
The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 
His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 
‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.
The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 
He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 
He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 
Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.
“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 
“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”
How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.
“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 
“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 
“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 
You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 
He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.
You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 
What the hell is happening to him?
“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 
Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 
“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.
“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 
“Yes please.” he begs softly. 
And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 
He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 
So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 
You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 
“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 
‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.
When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.
“Touch me and you will see me.” 
He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you
Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 
He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.
Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 
When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 
His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 
You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 
“Let me see you.” 
His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 
“Show me again.”
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gildedoak · 8 months ago
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Ya'll - the SPEED at which I scrambled to finish this when I found out today was National Peach Cobbler Day. I'll have to bake some tomorrow!
SOUTHERN COMFORT FOOD SERIES Chicken and Waffles Sweet Tea Hushpuppies Crab/Crawfish Boil Gumbo (plus character notes!) Beignets (part 2) Shrimp and Grits Cornbread Biscuits and Gravy Pecan Pie/Sugar Pie Fried Catfish ??? - Season 1 Finale
EDIT: the timer is now named Peaches
Image description below the cut!
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A short two part comic.
Panel 1: Header reads "13 APRIL - NATIONAL PEACH COBBLER DAY." Lucifer stands behind his workbench that is littered with tools, holding a bowl of peach cobbler and whipped cream in one hand, and a note in the other. The note reads, "Remember to eat and take breaks every hour. Your posture is terrible. Charlie will be upset if you disappear into your workshop for the whole day and miss dinner again. ~Charlie's Superior Dad." Lucifer looks slightly torn between exasperated, amused, fond, and irritated.
Panel 2: A closeup of the rubber duck Lucifer was working on, which is now a singing timer. "Time for a break, you workaholic! Did you drink your water today? Get outta your goddamn chair! Unclench your jaw!" Next to it, the bowl is empty.
END DESCRIPTION]
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punkshort · 1 year ago
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i'll be home for christmas | part one
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)
WC: 9.1K
A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.
Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them
Series Masterlist
It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.
This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.
Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.
Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.
You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.
Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.
"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"
"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.
"Where's Mom?" you asked.
"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"
"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."
"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.
"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.
"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."
She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.
You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.
"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.
"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.
"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."
You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.
"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.
You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.
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The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.
You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.
"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.
"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.
"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.
"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."
"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.
"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.
"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.
"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."
"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.
"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.
"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"
"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.
"How far along are you again?" you asked.
"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.
"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.
"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.
"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.
"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.
If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.
So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.
"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."
"Yeah, I know," you agreed.
"So why were you even with him?"
"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."
"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."
"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.
"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."
"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."
"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.
"Baby names?" you asked.
"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."
You giggled and stood to join her.
"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.
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After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.
Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"
"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.
Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.
A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.
You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.
"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?
"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.
"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."
He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"How do you know Paul and Martha?"
Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.
"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.
"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.
"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.
"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.
"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.
"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.
"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.
"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.
"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."
"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."
"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."
"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.
"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.
"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"
Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.
"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.
"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.
"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.
"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."
"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.
"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.
"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.
You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.
"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"
"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."
You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.
"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"
You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.
"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"
You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.
"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.
"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.
You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.
Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.
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You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.
As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.
Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into
You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.
"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.
"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"
"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"
"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."
"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"
"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.
"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.
"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."
"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.
"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.
"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!
"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"
"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.
He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.
"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.
"Hey, I'm sorry-"
"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.
"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.
"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."
"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.
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You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.
Oh my god, what if she died?
You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.
Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.
"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.
"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.
"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.
"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.
"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.
"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.
"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.
"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."
You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.
"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."
Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.
"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.
"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.
"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."
You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?
"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"
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Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.
"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.
Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?
You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?
You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?
You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?
You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.
Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?
You giggled and tapped out a reply.
You: I'd love to!
Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7
Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.
You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.
She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.
You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.
"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.
"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.
"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"
"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.
"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.
"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.
"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."
"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.
"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.
"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"
"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."
"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."
"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.
"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.
"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."
"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.
"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.
"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.
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Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.
But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.
Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.
For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.
Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.
Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.
Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.
"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.
"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.
"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.
"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.
"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.
"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.
"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.
"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."
"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.
"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."
Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.
"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."
"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."
Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.
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"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.
"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.
You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.
Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.
"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.
"Yeah, did you?"
"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."
You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.
"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.
"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."
"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.
"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.
"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.
"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.
"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.
"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.
"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.
"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."
"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.
"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.
"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.
"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."
His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.
"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.
"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."
You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.
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Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.
"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.
"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.
"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.
"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"
You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.
"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.
"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.
"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.
"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.
"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.
"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.
"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.
"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.
"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.
"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.
"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.
"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.
"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.
"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.
"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.
"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.
All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.
"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.
"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Kiss me."
He didn't need to be told twice.
He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.
Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.
A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.
"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.
Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.
"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.
After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.
You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.
He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.
You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.
"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.
You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.
"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."
"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.
Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.
Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.
Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.
You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.
His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.
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rockrosethistle · 1 year ago
Text
If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.
So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.
What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista
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And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.
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So we know this is meant to be Emma.
And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.
Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.
So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?
But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.
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If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.
What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.
I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.
And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.
Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.
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He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.
If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.
Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???
The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...
Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.
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crimsonbubble · 1 year ago
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me again..
SOOO basically miguel is a porn star and his user is like SPIDR99 or something and the readers friend sends her some of his vids but he’s a faceless account so no no knows it’s him, butttt she recognizes his voice and it turns out to be her college professorrrr
AHHHAHAHSNMMFM
cw. nsfw, gn!reader, professor!miguel, use of sex toys, male masterbation, praise *not proofread, just pure horny
[I WROTE A PROFESSOR!MIGUEL THING A WHOEL ABCK AND UHM 🫣🫣]
MINORS DNI!!
edit; im not writing a part 2
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scrolling through hundreds of porn accounts on twitter can lead you down some weird paths. so when you finally caved and looked up the name of a specific account that your friends told you about, you decided to see what the hype was about.
and now, you finally understood.
the heavy strokes of his hand moving the clear fleshlight over his cock, the melodic groans that slip past his lips, the visible tensing of his abdomen, and the twitching of his cock made your stomach flutter.
"just like that, baby, just like that." his voice made you pause, a familiar tingle hitting your senses as you turn the volume up. "feels so fuckin' good."
as you racked your brain, it finally clicked as you focus on his voice and hands. the same voice and hands that taught you biochemistry. you were certain it was him, it had to be. his visible physique looks all too similar to your professor.
you immediately went to scroll through the account, trying to find any sort of picture or video that would be further proof. you scrolled through his media, bookmarking videos as you went, until you found a mirror selfie.
bingo. just what you needed.
the casual button-up and slacks he was wearing in the photo were the same ones he wore to class a few days ago. the gold chain around his neck and the rings on his fingers as further proof that this faceless account was in fact, your professor.
his bio also should've given it away, considering he had the words professor in there. there's no way you could tell anyone about this, especially not your friends who are all currently obsessing over him.
going into class the following day was awkward. on your end, at least. anytime you looked at him, all you saw was the video from last night. Miguel spared a few lingering glances at you, a smirk twitching on his lips.
he just loves seeing your account in his notifications. it's almost as if you knew that he was thinking about you in the videos he posts online.
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