#it just goes to show how much I love Drum

[cartoon-skeleton]

ik I posted me playing the most horrendous beat on earth literally yesterday but I actually love the drums so much I THINK they r my calling just based on how fun they are because even tho I played the bass for like an entire decade of my life I never felt as much love for it as I do my dear drums. I love u drum set

[nezuscribe]

an idea I have in mind because I think too much about arranged Gojo.

at some point, when they're already happy and in love, they meet her sisters again. Maybe they are hosting some party or his mother invited them to the seaside house like in the past. Reader is in much a better place now personally. What’s more, she’s in a better position in the hierarchy than she was before. She's a sweetheart and a kind person. So she doesn’t care about any of that, she just wants to live her quiet, happy life with Gojo. Gojo, however, is a different story... he's heard and saw enough of how her sisters treated her and he's a petty man. A very petty man. For the duration of the visit, Gojo makes it his sole mission to flaunt their happiness. He insists on buying her the finest dresses and jewelry, making sure she’s never seen wearing the same outfit twice. Every day, he presents her with another gift, just to remind everyone of how she's adorned now. He sticks to her side at all times, while the other women are left alone when their boring husbands goes hunting or something like that. And he doesn't stop to show, verbally and physically, how he loves and admires her. Maybe, just to make his point even clearer, he asks for their rooms to be on the same floor. So they'll get a 24/7 show of the great treatment she gets.

so when i was writting the arrangment i wanted to add some scenes with readers family but it didn't work out so i think this is a great opportunity to expand on that

and totally. the thing abt reader that i hope people take away is that she's had to be stronghearted to survive in the conditions she's been brought up in, but because of that she just wants to live peacefully and quietly. she's elated that she gets a caring husband on top of it, but she just goes to the beat of her own drum and if people can't then she doesn't really care

but when this little get-together is planned at the gojo summer home, something customary and necessary, both reader and gojo dread it. reader because she doesn't like her sisters and father's wife and gojo because he hates your sisters and your father's wife

so gojo shows you off whenever he can. the two of you haven't had sex yet and he's fine with that, he's trying to find the best moment anyway, but he's so touchy it's insane. his arm is either around your waist, in yours, or sometimes around your neck if he wants to show you something from where he's standing

you're wearing the highest fashion, the best jewelry, and expensive oils. your sisters gawk and groan, but what else can they do? their husbands are old and ugly and don't give a rats ass about them, and you couldn't be more content

and this one time when all the younger people are around the lake gojo brings you onto his lap to open up the seat for one of your other friends, letting you curl up into his strong chest as he wraps a blanket over you. and your sisters watch in pure jealousy as you giggle at some of the things he tells you, watch as he blushes unabashedly when you kiss his forehead

arranged!gojo just loves you too much and there's nothing wrong with that

[saekkas]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

summary: in which someone flirts with them, but they're only looking at you.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: this one's shorter than the one before but still, go wild my loves <3

𝐓𝐇𝐄 ��𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐆𝐔�� who values you very much. is the type to be very secure in the relationship; doesn't like any unnecessary drama and is definitely ready to move onto the next stage. wouldn't really care about the other person but will not tolerate having his boundaries crossed. especially when it's clear that he's yours and yours only.

isagi, yukimiya, bachira, nagi.

his eyes are on his phone, feet tapping against the tiles of the cafe. it's a hole in the wall that he's used to frequenting with you, so much that the staff know your orders by heart. the line is short, seats mostly empty, as the rush hour has passed. the rain is pouring against the window beside him, and he taps his finger on the table to their rhythm.

tilting his head, his eyes find you in the middle of the line. you're focused on the menu, your bottom lip between your teeth as you scan the list of food and beverages. it makes him smile, chuckling under his breath because he knows you'll end up getting what you usually do. he gets onto his feet, wallet in hand, when you're finally set to order.

"hi. good morning, how are you?" your sweet voice tickles his ear as he approaches, his heart warm and sated as you go through your usual routine.

"hey." he presses a kiss to your head, wrapping a hand around your waist. his lips trail down, stopping at your cheek, a smile pressed against the skin as he hears you giggle. "what's taking so long?"

the cashier smiles, amused at the sight. "mornin' i'm great. how about you two lovebirds?"

"we're good," he answers for you both, an easy-going expression on his face. he looks down, scrunching his nose at you while you giggle at his answer. "just waiting for this angel to finish ordering."

"we'll have matcha latte, caramel macchiato, and a blueberry cheesecake please. the usual." he tilts his head, looking for your confirmation. he smiles proudly, chest puffing when you nod your head.

"i'll pay," you say as you show your card to the cashier, smiling at her. he chuckles, letting you take the bill this time. "how much will it be?"

the drinks are out in a second, the green and brown a contrast against each other. there are two pairs of utensils on the plate, and he thanks the staff for their work, taking the tray into his hand. "i'll take these to our table first, okay?" he looks over his shoulder, a gentle look in his eye as he processes just how... domestic this all feels.

"yeah, i'll be there in a minute. i need to go to the bathroom." you smile at the cashier one last time, tucking your purse into your bag. you glare playfully, poking your tongue at him. "don't you dare finish the cheesecake before i'm back."

he pokes his tongue back, a laugh breaking loose from his chest. "no promises."

he sits back down, placing the food on the table as he goes back to drumming his fingers. the rain doesn't look as if it'll be stopping any time soon, wind combining with water to shower the earth clean. he looks at his watch, mentally thinking about making dinner later with you. a smile grows at the thought.

there's a shadow in the corner of his eye that he assumes is you. he smiles, ready to lean over and press a kiss, only to stop when his eyes meet a stranger instead. "sorry." he backs away, a furrow in his eyebrow as he looks around, searching for you. "you've got the wrong table."

"no. it's okay. i've definitely got the right table." the stranger lays it thick with a high-pitched tone, and fluttering eyelashes. "hi, handsome. here's my number."

he watches as she slips a piece of paper onto the table, confusion blending into annoyance when she leans over to take his hand. "look," he says with a frown, pushing his hands into his pockets. he's very obviously looking in the direction you went off in. "you've got the wrong table and i'm already with someone."

"ah but i don't see this someone?" the smile on her face is pushing at his limits. his jaw ticks when she moves to sit beside him. "c'mon, handsome. give me a chance."

the bathroom door by the end opens with a creak, and his head snaps at the sound. before she has time to reach over once again, he's quick to swerve away to your side. you're already eyeing the girl at your table with curiosity, your head tilted in question. "hey, who's that? one of your frien-"

he doesn't let you finish. he's quick to reach for your waist, tugging you into a kiss with a hand cupping your cheek. all negative feelings drain from his limbs, turning him into a puddle of love as you thread your fingers into his hair.

"as much as i love your kisses," you say with a gasp of breath as you look up into his eyes, finding love looking back at you through the orbs. "that was a bit sudden. did something happen?"

"not at all." he shakes his head, nuzzling into your nose. his hands are on the side of your neck, lovingly stroking the skin. "not now that you're here."

you look back at your table, seeing it empty, and the girl from before nowhere in sight.

"shall we enjoy our drinks?" he pushes you with the hand he has on your waist. he sits down first before pulling you to sit right beside him, your hands intertwined under the table. "can't wait to eat dinner with you later."

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. he won't say no to playful flirting since it feeds his ego but will only respond if you're somewhere near or in his field of vision. he won't give the other person any of his attention if you aren't. will think it's funny that they're trying their best but will either shoot them down in a way that crushes their pride or brush them off as if they don't exist.

reo, aiku, karasu, kaiser.

the bass is thrumming against his skull, a tune that doesn't fit the mall's calm and serene energy. he's sitting on one of those plush sofas in a clothing store outlet, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waits for you to finish changing. he feels the warning glare the manager's sending, and he snorts as if trying to go into the dressing room with you is a crime. he would be so much more satisfied with you between four cramped walls than in the wide space where people are obviously gawking at him.

"excuse me." someone calls his name timidly, and he cocks his head towards them, wanting to see where this goes. they send him a smile, one that's too teethy and falsely sweet but hey he can't fault them for not flashing his favorite smile; they aren't you after all.

"yes?" his reply is short and blunt, but he sighs when the girl flinches away. you've always said that his resting face looked too mean. he chuckles at the thought.

shaking himself out of his daydream, he shows his best smile. he leans back, arm stretched out against the back of the couch as he adjusts his pose, manspreading. a peacock, you'd once muse when he first did it in front of you. he watches with thinly veiled boredom in his eyes, a juxtaposition to the sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. "can i help you with something?"

the girl flushes, biting her lip and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. being coy, he realizes with an amused scoff.

"sorry to bother you. it's just- you looked so bored. i thought i could entertain you."

his eyebrow quirks at the word entertain, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "and how would you do that, hm?" he takes her in, taking in her choice of clothing and hairstyle. cute he'd give that much to her. nothing like you, though. she couldn't compare.

he realizes belatedly that the once over was seen differently than what he meant for it to come across. amusement flickers in his eyes when she flushes a bright red, fidgeting on her spot. "you do this often?" he tilts his head, eyes half-lidded, trying to gauge her reaction. "flirting with random strangers in the mall of a hobby, eh?"

"just the handsome ones," she says with a giggle. he watches as she points a finger to the row of clothes, her interest clear as day. "how about we look around? buy some clothes or jewelry so we match."

he chuckles, shaking his head at the thought. he can't wait to tell you about this. right on cue, the door to your dressing room opens, and you step out. his breath gets stuck in his throat, his eyes widening, and a grin making its way to his lips.

the black dress you have on is nothing short of stunning. it tapers off to your knees, the material hugging your curves. he sends you an eager look, one which you giggle at. you turn, showing him the back of the dress, keeping eye contact as you do. his mouth falls and thoughts short circuit as his eyes rake down your bare back, stopping just before your bum.

oh the things he'll do to you in that dress. no wonder the manager was so adamant on not letting him join in on the fun.

"nah," he says distractedly at the girl still waiting for his response. he sends you a wink and a flirty smile, mouthing one moment, before turning back to her. "see that gorgeous specimen right there? yeah i'm hers."

"she and i, we match." his eyes are filled with mischief as he tugs his shirt down, showing off the collection of marks you left on him last night. the skin around his collarbone is red, purple, and bruised. littered with love bites. a symbol of your love he thinks smugly. "see?"

there's pride blooming in his chest, a smug smile forming on his face the moment her eyes widen and the color drains from her face. "i'm not interested in anyone who's not her. so scram." he's quick to wave her away, skipping over to tug you back into the fitting room, this time with him in it.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐂𝐄, the type to literally not care at all. will not give them time of day and will appear hostile if necessary. but he'll mostly just look at them, expressionless with dead eyes.

sae, rin, kunigami

there are so many options to choose from, he frowns, glaring at the row of refrigerators stacked next to each other as if they've done something wrong. the supermarket is relatively busy, customers ranging from middle schoolers to elderly. he's in the drink section, passing one fridge to another, looking for your favorite drink from outside the glass, his frowning reflection looking back at him.

you're somewhere in the dairy section, picking out pints of ice cream, and who knows what else. he checks his phone, checking for any new messages from you. i'll head over soon, after i find the popcorn, it reads along with multiple hearts and photos of you smiling beside the ice cream. he shakes his head, tapping a finger against the screen to save the photos.

he pockets his phone, ready to move on to the next isle when he bumps into someone. he huffs, his eyes looking at the girl that's staring right back at him.

"really?" she says with a flirty giggle after she gets a clear look at his face. he remains stoic, hands in his pocket, even as she nudges him on the shoulder as if a longtime friend. "you're handsome but if you don't say sorry when you bump into someone, they'll lose interest. but maybe that's your charm."

he moves to slight past her, not at all caring about her presence, but before he knows it, she's stuck a hand into his back pocket, sending a kiss playfully before bounding over somewhere he doesn't give a damn about. the frown on his lips deepens, but before he has the chance to look into his pocket, you pop up right beside him.

"hey, i can't find the drinks but i've got everything else." he hears you say as you show him your basket full of things, smiling up at him. there are all kinds of things in the basket, ranging from chocolate, popcorn, ice cream, sausages, and many more. tonight is monthly movie night and he tries to shake off the weird encounter from his mind, not wanting to dampen the mood.

he smiles back, leaning down to take the basket from you. the hoodie you have on is his, and it dwarves you. the hem reaches your knees, and he can't see your hands which makes him chuckle all the while more. you told him that you were cold, he knows it's just another excuse to wear his hoodie.

"let's go home." he ruffles a hand through your hair, affection getting the best of him, before taking your hand with his other.

he drops the basket on the self-checkout counter, and helps you scan all the necessary items. he eyes the chupa-chups by the counter and grabs two, strawberry and cola, scanning both and handing them for you to choose. he chuckles when you brighten, choosing the strawberry for yourself.

"i'll take the bags." he takes both bags into his left hand, the other placing itself on your back. he leads you out, shaking his head in amusement when he feels you slip your hand into his back pocket.

"hey what's this?" the tone of your voice has him frowning. "i didn't know you smoke. it's bad for you, ya know?"

looking down at the cigarette in your hand, he eyes the scribble of numbers surrounding the stick. ah that's what she slipped in, he sighs. taking the cigarette from you, he's quick to throw it to the ground, crushing it with his foot.

"i don't," he chuckles at the look of disbelief on your face. leaning in, he plucks the candy from your mouth, pressing a kiss and pushing his tongue in. you taste sweet from the candy he notes, you smell like ice cream too. he's quick to pull back, chuckling when he realizes just how flustered you've become.

"i prefer sweets," he says with a smug smile before popping the candy into his own mouth.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Blood Sugar II

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

Summary: You go on Bake Off

"This time, on the Great Stand Up To Cancer Bake Off, it's Lioness time. Four of the England Lionesses brave the tent in the name of charity to tackle three challenges in the hope of securing, not the Euros trophy, but the star baker apron. This week's celebrities are: Leah Williamson, England captain and defender, Alessia Russo, goal scorer for England, Keira Walsh, England's midfield maestro and y/n l/n, England's youngest star."

You stand in front of your countertop, drumming your fingers against the wood as you look at all of the ingredients in front of you.

"Now, for your signature challenge, Paul and Prue would like you each to make a baker's dozen of sugar cookies," Noel Fielding says and you contemplate slamming your head onto the counter.

You knew agreeing to be on this was a bad idea.

"Each cookie must be hand-shaped," Alison Hammond continues," And made with love. You've got one hour. On your marks."

"Get set."

"Bake!"

"So," Leah says suddenly," Is this a good time to mention I don't know what a baker's dozen is?"

You've never really been a bigger baker. It wasn't really your speciality like a lot of other things like cooking your own meals and doing your own laundry.

There was also the added thing of the fact that no one in your family baked because you couldn't eat it. Well, you could, but it would send your sugar levels through the roof and you hated injecting more insulin than normal because it always stressed you out.

"Less!" You yell out," How much sugar is too much sugar?"

"I'm not helping you!" She yells back and you stick your tongue out at her.

"This is discrimination!" You declare as you start pouring your sugar in, hoping for the best.

The judges leave it ten minutes or so before they start walking around.

They got to Leah first, congratulating her on captaining the team to victory which she graciously waves off before getting way too competitive over a baking show.

Keira is next and it's hard not to be endeared by Keira, clearly the only sane person in the tent.

Alessia ends up accidentally breaking the electric mixer and tries to get everyone to ignore it by throwing a dish towel over it.

Then, it's your turn.

"So, y/n," Paul says," Do you have much experience with baking?"

"No," You reply.

"Did you prepare at all for this?"

"No."

"Do you have much hope you'll win?"

"What I'm hoping for is someone else does extremely badly so I don't come last."

Prue laughs. "Well that's honest of you. So, you have done no preparation at all?"

"I'm planning on just winging it," You admit," I'm diabetic so I don't really eat sugary things so I'm just hoping that they're edible."

"So you're not going to be tasting as you go?"

You eyes go wide. "Am I meant to do that?" You hand goes to cover your mouth. "No, are you joking? Am I meant to be doing that?"

The judges have a little laugh as they back away.

"Wait! Don't go! Am I meant to taste as I go?!"

Even though you don't taste as you go, you don't end up losing the challenge (not with plain tastebuds Leah Williamson in the running) but you don't win either.

Clearly, Keira's just good at everything.

The technical round is a disaster for everyone involved, even Keira and somehow, after burning her first set of fondant fancies, Alessia manages to win.

Leah continues to be the worst, which is what everyone expects so even though you don't taste anything, you're not the worst and, honestly, that's what you're aiming for.

You're here to provide the jokes and not to humiliate yourself on national tv and, you know, also to show that diabetics can bake too - not that you really knew that was a big issue until you signed up for this but apparently it is.

The only one that you actually practiced for was your showstopper.

'Your Biggest Triumph' was the theme and you'd had to practice for this one.

"Leah!" Keira shrieks suddenly and you whip your head around to see Leah with her hand in Keira's bowl of batter.

"I'm sorry Kei," Leah says, sounding not very sorry at all," But you're going to win if I don't sabotage you. I'm sure you understand."

You hold your breath as Keira's eyes dart towards Leah's bowl of unsupervised batter, leaping over the countertop to do the same.

"Wait, Kei! Keira, stop!"

Keira doesn't stop and you notice from the corner of your eyes Alessia moving as well.

You snatch your bowl up before she can grab it, sprinting to the other side of the tent.

Alessia follows you until you're backed up against the fridges.

"Less, Less!" You shriek, voice panicky as Leah and Keira wrestle at Leah's counter," Don't do this! You don't have to do this!"

"I'm sorry." Like Leah, Alessia doesn't sound sorry at all. "But it's for the greater good."

"Greater good! This is pure selfishness!"

"This is baking!"

"This is sabotage. Stay away from my bowl!"

"Come on. Don't make this hard than it needs to be."

An almighty crash sounds as Keira and Leah accidentally knock a mixer off the table and in the confusion, you manage to shove Alessia away to pour your batter into the pan.

The carnage continues throughout the time limit, only dampening when a truce is called so you can all decorate your cakes. Apart from that, it's a free-for-all as you find yourself standing on Leah's countertop, throwing wooden spoons at Keira and Alessia whenever they try to approach the pair of you.

"Alright, y/n," Prue says at the end of the time limit," Tell us about your greatest triumph."

"Okay." You point at the various decorations on your cake. "So this cake is a representation of my Dexcom. I know everyone else is choosing football stuff and all that but when I was six, I started feeling really bad. I couldn't focus and I was sweating and I couldn't really move well and I felt tired. It went on for a few days."

You point at one of the little marshmallow figures you made.

"I was playing in Alessia's garden with her and I threw up everywhere and she insisted on having her parents take me to the hospital. I'd developed DKA and was about an hour or so from going into a coma. The doctors ran tests and stuff and found that my pancreas had shut down. So, my biggest triumph was being diagnosed with diabetes."

You give a little shrug, pointing out the way you'd shaped your cake to look like your Dexcom and how on top you'd decorated it with marshmallow versions of you and Alessia and the doctor that you still went to get check-ups from.

"That's a lovely story, y/n," Paul says," But let's see if the actual cake tastes good. What kind is it?"

"Victoria Sponge because it's my mum's favourite."

Each judge takes a slice and you hold your breath.

Paul holds his hand out to you.

Your eyes go wide. "Are you serious?"

"Shake my hand."

You do that gleefully. Getting a Paul Hollywood handshakes means a lot.

"I mean, there's not much I can say," He says," The sponge is perfect. The filling is perfect. The flavours work well. The story to go with it is fantastic."

"And you never tasted any of it?" Prue asks and you shrug with a grin.

"I'm on a strict diet."

"Well...I mean if football doesn't work it then baking certainly will."

The Star Baker Apron you win at the end hangs up on your wall with your Euro's medal.

[technicolorxsn]

see through and shapeless, I wonder if... in such a world we're in love?

[rueclfer]

i loved your take on rockstar shinsou so much 😭😭 can you do one with bakugo except youre in the band with him LMAO

a/n: just when i was trying to diversify the ppl i write about, bakugou makes his way back to me HAHA but fr i think this request healed me. thank you LOL

every single time you go out to eat, the chopsticks will 100% be used as mini drum sticks. he'd fuck around and start tapping them on your body paired with makeshift "ba dum dum ba dums'"

"here, let me try....hmm that's odd! 'bonnggg'.. your head sounds hollow."

gifts you a "drummers hit it harder" t-shirt to wear on stage

of course you return the sentiment with a "bassists do it deeper" shirt for him

after every solo you'll turn around to see him wearing the proudest ear-to-ear grin ever.

pre! show! rituals! of hyping each other up, jumping around to music, doing his eyeliner, writing cute little notes on each other's palm

loves to watch you fuck around on his drum set at practices. "god you're shit. aren't you supposed to know a thing or two about rhythm?"

definitely uses it as an excuse to come up close behind you to hold your hands and guide them.

whenever he's mad, he'll put on his noise cancelling headphones rage out on his drums in the other room. (sometimes you piss him off on purpose just to see him come out shirtless and dripping in sweat by the end of it)

think its cute whenever you ask for his professional opinion on a new run you wrote up.

goes crazy watching you do fanservice on stage. licking up the side of your bass, falling to your knees, leaning into the crowd- he eats that shit up.

he treats the time after every show like aftercare. tells you how hot his view was, how you killed every song, everyone was looking at his pretty baby, and of course buys you a drink for your hard work.

[joelscurls]

feel it in your bones

next part

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 12.5k

summary: Two years ago, you finished your PhD and moved to Vermont. In the time since, you’ve gotten a job as a college professor, had your heart broken, and sworn off relationships entirely. Enter Joel, the father of one of your students, here for Homecoming Weekend – and too attractive to resist.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, no outbreak, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), alcohol consumption, fluff, smut, masturbation (f), mutual pining(?), sexual tension, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cumplay / cum eating, some light biting, use of pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, etc.), reader has an asshole ex, no use of y/n

a/n: my first Joel fic! This is honestly a bit self-indulgent but I love fall and academia and Joel Miller so sue me okay. ty to my bby @caffeinated-validation for reading through this and offering your insight -- get you a partner who will beta your filthy Joel Miller smut for you lmao <3

You’ve gotten used to being alone. 

You don’t mind it as much as you had a few months ago, the breakup still fresh, every touch of your own fingers seering into your skin when you’d remembered the way he’d touched you, the sound of your voice almost unrecognizable as you’d convince yourself each day to get out of bed and go to work, where you’d inevitably run into him. It was painful then, having to come home to the quiet, always far too aware of the sound of your own thoughts drumming against the inside of your skull. 

Now though, you revel in that quiet. Sip your coffee in silence each morning. You’ve learned how to stay lost in your work, bringing home stacks of papers to grade and eating through texts to support your research while your dinner gets cold on the table in front of you. You’re well aware that this isn’t the healthiest way to cope, to just avoid it all, but it’s better than feeling. 

You’ve sworn off relationships entirely. It’s a silent promise to yourself – that you’ll remain married to your work. You will devote all of your energy to making sure your students excel and that your research is strong. That is your life’s purpose, to make use of the PhD you worked so hard to get – not to be someone’s girlfriend or wife. And you’re fine with that, really. You’ve become immune to loneliness – or numb, maybe.

Regardless, you welcome the independence. You don’t have to worry about anyone else’s thoughts or feelings when it comes to the way you spend your own time. You’re free to do whatever you want. You can draw yourself a bath, fill it with bubbles, sit in it while you drain a bottle of wine into your mouth until the water runs cold. You can eat an entire box of dry cereal in one sitting while you re-watch your favorite show for the twentieth time. You can make yourself cum at any hour of the night with your vibrator or your shower head or your hand – and then go to work the next morning without a semblance of guilt.

Really, you like being alone. 

Until you don’t.

It’s Homecoming Weekend at Sarah’s school. 

She had insisted that Joel didn’t have to come, that it was mostly an opportunity for the college to milk donations out of sentimental alumni. But he’d missed her for the month she’d been gone, the house far too quiet with just him in it. In previous years, Joel had busied himself following Sarah’s departure with home projects. Three years in, though, he’s updated just about every room in the house,  re-done the floors, built a brand new back deck. 

In other words, he’s fresh out of distractions.

So, he’d made the trek to Vermont,  with the excuse that he’d always wanted to experience a New England fall. It’s a lie, one that Sarah can probably read right through, considering he vocalizes his discomfort whenever the temperature drops below 70 degrees in Texas, but she goes along with it. 

Besides, he wants to see what his tuition money is paying for.

In truth, Joel had been nervous when Sarah announced what major she’d decided to pursue. She had just finished her freshman year, prerequisite courses all completed. When she’d said the word – anthropology – Joel hadn’t even been sure what it meant. Since then, she’s explained it to him many times and in truth, he’s still none the wiser. Really, he’s just happy that she’s happy. Her passion for it is evident on her face any time she talks to him about the courses she’s taking, how great her professors are. 

Especially you – she talks about you all the time – her mentor. 

You’re supervising her on her thesis project – a qualitative assessment on students’ views on feminism and gender politics in the classroom. This past summer, Joel swears Sarah had mentioned your name more than her own friends’. She’d told him what courses you teach, what research you’ve conducted, all the countries you’ve traveled to for fieldwork. And she gives the best advice – Sarah had said one night over dinner – she’s like, my lifeline at school. 

Joel doesn’t know you, but he’s thankful for you – for the guidance you so clearly provide Sarah.

There’s an Open House today for the Social Sciences college, which Joel tags along with Sarah to. He’s hopeful that he’ll learn something, come to understand the field and why Sarah loves it. 

A buffet table stocked with refreshments sits on one side of the lecture hall. Sarah grabs them both cups of water infused with cucumber while Joel saves them seats at the back. There’s a slideshow projected onto the white board at the front, the current slide reading: An Introduction to the Social Sciences College & Our Current Research Efforts. A group of professors gathers at the front, name tags stuck to their button-downs and blazers. Sarah spots you as she sits down, pointing you out as she hands Joel his water.

“There – that one’s my mentor – the one in the plaid pants.” 

Joel’s eyes follow her finger to the group at the front,  scanning down the line. There’s a man, short and stocky with noticeably small hands hooked by the thumbs in the belt loops of his pants. Next to him, is a woman, taller than him, wearing a bright turquoise silk shirt, gold bangles decorating both of her wrists. And next to her is you, in the plaid pants.

Sarah had told him a lot of things about you, but she’d never mentioned that you’re fucking gorgeous. You’re smiling at something Turquoise Shirt has just said to you, and it’s like your entire face is glowing. Joel has to take a sip of water to collect himself.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you for the entirety of the presentation. 

The dean of the college starts by briefly covering each department and what research efforts they have planned for the semester. Joel should be listening, he came here to listen – but he can’t get himself to focus on anything other than you.

You’re mostly focused on the presenter. Every so often, though, you distractedly toy with the buttons on your cardigan or twirl a strand of your hair between delicate fingers. And Joel is suddenly realizing how touch-starved he is after years of refusing to date – because just watching you, your hands – is about to send him into orbit.

You’re well-spoken too, he learns, when you take the microphone to discuss your current research project. 

“This semester, I’ll be delving into the presence of food deserts in Vermont, and the effects these are having on the overall health of youth in the state,” you say. “We have received a sizable grant for this research, and I am thrilled to get started in a matter of weeks. This project will span the better part of the academic year as I speak to locals and craft surveys that will provide qualitative data to support my findings from the field.”

You press down on the clicker in your hand. A new slide projects onto the whiteboard. It’s a photo of you against the backdrop of a jungle, lush, green trees stretching past the top of the frame. The wide-brimmed hat you’re wearing covers most of your face – but that damn smile radiates through the makeshift screen.

“This is me last summer, in Peru. My research here was much more self-indulgent – I studied the important role that food plays in the average family there – and ate wayyyy too many sweets.”

The crowd laughs. It’s the first reaction they’ve expressed this entire time. 

It’s entrancing, the way you command the room. You have such a calm confidence about you as you speak, words never once faltering as you stride back and forth across the front of the lecture hall.  Joel isn’t much of a talker – maybe that’s why he feels like he could listen to you for hours on end. He thinks that you could read the damn phone book and his focus would remain unwavering. That your voice, velvet-soft, could spellbind him without much effort.

When your portion of the presentation ends, he’s more than a bit disappointed.

Students and their families filter out of the lecture hall. You situate yourself in a corner of the room for the actual Open House portion of the event, at the ready to answer any questions or, more likely, offer directions to another part of campus.

You smile as familiar faces and strangers alike pass you, reach for your to-go mug on the table behind you, and take a sip. The coffee is pretty much ice-cold now, but you still gulp it down, only after the caffeine anyway.

You place the mug back down with a light thud against the tabletop. Suddenly, a voice you’ve come to know well rings in your ear. 

“Professor!” 

When you look up, Sarah Miller is bounding down the aisle, signature smile plastered across her face. And there’s a man behind her, you notice, moving much slower. 

He’s tall, broad shoulders pulling taut against the green flannel he’s wearing. He cradles a beige workwear jacket in the crook of his bicep,corded muscle visibly bulging against fabric. His other hand rubs at the scruff along his jaw, pointedly sharp in the patches where hair doesn’t grow.

He has a distinguishable nose, you notice as he gets closer,  strong – large and hooked at the center of his tan face. It’s complemented perfectly by his plush, pink lips that seem to be set in a permanent pout.  

In other words, he’s handsome – almost distractingly so, as he stands next to Sarah in front of you.

“I’m so happy to see you,” she beams – turns to the man next to her.

“Dad, this is my mentor,” She says your name. 

He nods. His eyes meet yours. They’re deep brown, almost black – and undeniably entrancing. 

“‘‘ts nice to meet you, Ma’am. I’m Joel.”

Ma’am.

It’s not like the word is foreign to you, given your profession. There’s something about the way he says it, though, that makes your head spin, his southern drawl dripping in honey-butter and bourbon. 

Joel outstretches a hand. You shake it – try to ignore the way it dwarfs yours.

“Joel,” you repeat, eyes locked firmly on the space between his eyes. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“That was a great presentation you gave up there. You’re a good, uh – talker.” His expression is unreadable. His hands fidget at his sides.

You offer him a smile. “Thank you – I think? My students probably wish I would shut up sometimes. Right, Sarah?”

“Oh please,” she scoffs, “as if you’ve never seen your rating on Rate My Professor.” 

She’s not wrong – you pride yourself on having pretty stellar reviews – but you also try your hardest not to let them get to your head. Sarah isn’t helping that, right now.

“Anyways,” she exaggerates the word, “what are you up to tonight, Professor? They’re holding an exhibition at the art center later, all student work – d’you wanna come with us?” 

Your reflex is to say no. After all, he’ll probably be there. Your ex, Quentin, works in the art history department. And even though you’re over him, you’re not exactly looking for an excuse to be in the same room as him. But you technically don’t have plans tonight, and you can’t even think of a good lie right now with Sarah staring you down. 

And then there’s Joel, standing in front of you, all broad shoulders and chiseled jaw – and you think, what a great opportunity to get to know him, you know, as the parent of your student. Definitely not as anything else, anything more. It is Homecoming, after all.

So, you say yes. 

“Cool!” Sarah smiles, “Meet you there at 7?”

You nod, tell Sarah that sounds perfect, and that you’ll see them tonight. 

Sarah starts toward the door. But Joel stands there for a moment longer. His eyes linger on yours, his wordless stare threatening to burn a hole in your head. You can feel the heat of it, beads of sweat beginning to form at the base of your neck. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying your hardest to conceal them. 

A beat passes. It looks like he might say something, his mouth opening then closing again.

He gives you a courteous nod, turns on his heels, and follows after Sarah.

Joel hadn’t remembered the food being this bad when he’d visited for orientation. He struggles to keep down a particularly rubbery bite of chicken and reaches for his water bottle, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he focuses on not vomiting. 

Sarah laughs next to him. “Hey man, at least you don’t have to eat this shit year-round.”

He grunts in agreement. “Gonna cancel your meal plan next semester and jus’ give you the money to buy groceries.” 

She hums. Cocks her head. “That means I’m gonna have to learn how to cook – do you think Student Housing has fire insurance?”

Joel wants to roll his eyes, but it’s definitely his fault – after all, he can barely fry an egg without setting off the fire alarm. Their freezer has always been well-stocked with TV dinners and tater tots. So instead, he just shrugs. 

“So what’s this art thing tonight?” He moves on to the salad on his plate, decidedly much safer. 

“I don’t really know – my roommate asked me to go, she has some pieces in it, I guess.”

He nods. “And your professor – that was nice ‘a you to invite her.”

Sarah nods, smiles. “Yeah – you like her, right? I mean, you’re sure you’re cool with me asking her to come?” She asks, a mouthful of lettuce.

“‘Course,” he says, attempting to keep his voice level, nonchalant.

“I know you’re not really one for meeting new people,” she teases.

He mock-glares at her. It quickly softens into a smile. “Nah – she seems cool.” It’s an understatement, but Sarah doesn’t need to know that.

She doesn’t need to know that her dad is attracted to her professor.

Joel thinks that he might not have been so great at hiding it, though, when a few hours later, in the middle of watching an unarguably bad student production of Macbeth, Sarah turns to him and whispers that she’s not feeling well. 

“Hm, is that right?,” he whispers back, unconvinced. 

“Yeah, must’ve been the food.”

“We ate the same thing, Sarah.”

There’s a shout on stage. The actor’s voice cracks.

“Well I dunno,” she continues, “My stomach just doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, and what about that thing with your professor?”

He can see her smirk even in the dim lighting. 

“Shit, you’re right. And I don’t have her phone number, so it’s not like I can text her...” 

She groans. Joel thinks she should be on that stage right now. 

“We can’t just ghost her.” Joel has no idea what that means. He doesn’t bother asking. 

“Sarah-” he starts.

“Please. She’s such a nice lady, she doesn’t deserve to be stood up.”

He could say no. It’s not like he knows you, owes you anything. But in truth, Joel does want to see you again. And he’s well aware that Sarah might be trying to set the two of you up – ever-perceptive and hell-bent on her dad being happy – but he tries not to think about how embarrassing that feels, his daughter playing matchmaker for him. Because he wants to spend more time with you, get to know more about you, if you’ll let him.

He’s barred himself from forming any kind of real relationship with a woman since Sarah’s mother left. Not because she’d broken his heart, but because he’d needed all of his energy to go to Sarah. As a single father, he had always feared that he wouldn’t be enough for his daughter – wouldn’t give enough – that growing up in a broken home would leave her half of a person. That fear had fueled him to be the best dad possible – to work overtime so that he could provide for them, to never miss one of her soccer games or dance recitals. And so, he had never even considered dating, not seriously, anyway. It would take attention away from Sarah, and he couldn’t risk that. 

He’s found it difficult to shake this principle, now that Sarah has grown up. He often grapples with the fact that Sarah doesn’t need him as much anymore – that she’s her own person living her own life. He knows he could date now, could meet someone new, open his heart to them. But he’s so used to fighting that human need for companionship, that it feels almost unnatural to let his guard down.

But now there’s you – your megawatt smile and your impressive intelligence and your care for his daughter – and suddenly he’s forgotten his own rules. 

“Okay; I’ll go.” It comes out entirely too enthusiastic.

He can practically feel Sarah’s accomplished, shit-eating grin burning into the side of his head.

You leave campus around four pm, once the last of the Open House participants have gone. 

You take a shower when you get home. Then you order sushi – stuff rolls of yellowfin and salmon into your mouth as you sit at the dining table still wrapped up in your towel, trying your best not to spill soy sauce on the half-graded essays that litter the tabletop. When you’re done, you retreat to your closet, treading on damp feet across the waxy hardwood floor.

And you definitely don’t think about Joel – not when you debate what to wear to the art exhibition, not when your fingers accidentally graze one of your nipples as you put your bra on, not when you get distracted while pulling your panties on by the pool of wetness that has formed between your thighs. 

You definitely don’t think about him – because he’s Sarah’s dad, and that would be wrong.

So it’s accidental when his name falls from your mouth, fingers pressed against your clit, visions of large, calloused hands flashing behind your closed eyelids. 

You cover your mouth with the curve of your palm to prevent it from slipping out again. Sink back into the mattress.

Then you press your fingers down harder. 

Joel feels like a first-year student, wandering aimlessly across campus in search of the art center. Sarah’s directions had been, well, brief. She’d insisted he’d be able to find it no problem. Now though, in the limited light of dusk, all the structures look the same, bleeding together like watercolors against the evening sky. 

He does find it, eventually, a three-story brick building tucked between the library and what looks to be a dormitory. Bright, artificial light seeps through the windows that line the bottom floor. The double doors at the front are propped open, people slipping in and out of them as he approaches. 

He looks for you outside, searching for a familiar head of hair, the brown cardigan you’d been wearing earlier. When he doesn’t see you, he reluctantly makes his way up the stairs and into the building.

He spots you almost immediately affixed in front of a painting, studying it intently.

You’re wearing a different outfit than the one you had on this afternoon – a merlot-colored slip dress and a cropped leather jacket. He struggles to ignore the way the satin clings to you, the curves of your body excruciatingly accentuated. He has to remind himself that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, shouldn't expect you to stick around for long once he lets you know Sarah isn’t coming. You’ll probably make an excuse to leave shortly after, and he’ll be back on Sarah’s couch within the hour. 

After all, why would you stick around just to talk to him?

You don’t see him when he sidles up next to you. He clears his throat and you startle. 

“Sorry,” he brings a hand to the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to spook ya.” 

You take a step back to face him and put a hand to your chest, your breath beginning to even. His eyes wander, for a moment, to where your fingers rest against your collarbone. 

“Shit – it’s okay. Where’s Sarah?”

“She wasn’t feeling well, but she said I should still come. Is that – uh – is that okay?” He’s suddenly worried that this was dumb, that he shouldn’t have come, should’ve just let Sarah explain to you on Monday.

But your features soften then, a small smile forming between rosy cheeks. 

“Joel, it’s fine; I appreciate you not ditching me.”

“‘Course,” he manages. He’s waiting for you to say something else – that you need to leave. But you don’t, and you both stand enveloped in the pregnant pause that lingers, bright overhead lighting and nerves giving Joel the start of a migraine he’ll have to ignore for the rest of the night.

He clears his throat. Turns to the painting in front of you. “So what’s this one, then?”

The painting in question is a mish-mash of shapes and colors. Joel can’t distinguish any one thing on the canvas. It’s all just a lot of…nothing. He knows it’s not for him when he thinks a preschooler with finger paints could’ve done this.

You bring your hand up to cradle your jaw, brows furrowed in contemplation. It looks like you’ll offer an actual, intellectual interpretation. So Joel isn’t prepared when instead, you say: 

“Looks like a bad trip.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, the corners of his eyes creasing. 

“Sorry,” you say, between giggles. “That was stupid.”

“No,” he says, swiping a hand over his jaw, trying to physically rub the embarrassing smile off his face. “You’re funny.” 

He means it. He’s not sure how it’s possible that you’re funny, when you’re also so smart and interesting and gorgeous. It’s almost unfair. He thinks, fleetingly, that you’re way out of his league – a boring, old man like him.

You continue to the next piece, Joel following closely behind. It looks like it must be by the same artist. The same variation of shapes fill the canvas, just in different colors.

“Alright Cowboy, what’s your take on this one?” 

Joel studies it for a moment – tries to find something he can pull out. Something tangible. Something funny, even. 

He comes up empty.

“‘ts interesting f’sure. Lots of…colors,” he tries. He realizes how ridiculous he sounds. Laughs. “Shit…art ain’t really my thing,” he admits, arm stretched behind his head.

“So what is your thing?” Your voice is tinged with something – Joel tries his hardest not to let himself believe that it’s flirtation. 

Your eyes are still fixed on the canvas in front of you. And Joel is thankful, because he thinks if you looked at him, let those eyes meet his, he’d break – tell you that right now, you’re his thing.

He doesn’t get a chance to answer either way, though, because he’s interrupted by a man’s voice behind the two of you. 

“Wow. Didn’t expect to see you here!”

You whip around to face him. Joel turns too. The man is taller than you, but shorter than him. He’s wearing round, wire-frame glasses that sit like a suggestion on his nose, and a full suit, with a tie that has some god-awful, ugly pattern all over it. It looks like the art here, Joel thinks.

Joel’s eyes flit back to you, and he watches as your hackles go up. You back up, bumping into the canvas behind you. You curse under your breath.

“Quentin. Hey.”

“Glad you could make it,” the man, Quentin, says. He swirls a cup of what appears to be red wine in one hand. He leans in closer, brings the other hand up at the side of his mouth to conceal his words. “I know this isn’t really your scene.” 

You shift uncomfortably. “Yeah,” you say. “I’m uh, venturing out, I guess. Trying new things.” 

He laughs. It’s an asshole laugh, Joel notes. Everything about this guy screams asshole. 

“About time!” The asshole puts a hand on your shoulder. You flinch. Joel’s hands instinctively bunch into fists at his side. 

“So proud of you,” Quentin says. “Finally letting yourself be a little cultured.”

This guy can’t be serious.

You scoff. Grab his hand and flick it off your shoulder. He looks wounded. Good, Joel thinks. 

“Yeah, because traveling the world has left me so very uncultured, Quentin.”

“Hey,” he puts his hands up. “Don’t take offense, baby. I know your little field trips are important, too.”

It’s the last straw.

In one movement, you’re pushing off the wall, shoving past Quentin, and making your way to the exit. Joel doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look at the asshole, just follows after you out the door. 

It’s gotten colder in the short time he’d been inside, he notices. A gust of wind nips at the exposed skin on his hands. He stuffs them haphazardly in the pockets of his jacket.

He finds you perched on the front steps, arms wrapped around your body protectively. He takes a few cautious strides forward. When you look up at him, you’re visibly distraught. 

You groan as he sits down next to you. “Sorry. That was embarrassing.” 

Joel wants to touch you, put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but he knows he probably shouldn’t – not right now. 

“‘ts not embarrassin’,” he says, instead. His warm breath materializes in the cold air. “Not for you, anyway. That guy was clearly an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That was my ex-boyfriend.” You’re  both quiet, then. The two of you sit there, side by side on the stairs, in comfortable silence. A few minutes pass. Joel notices you chewing on your bottom lip, like you’re considering something. When you speak again, your voice wavers.

“Would you want to go for a drink or something? It’s just, I really don’t want to be here anymore.” 

For a moment, he can’t believe what he’s hearing – you’re asking him out? He takes a second to respond. You start to backtrack. “It’s okay if you don’t wan-”

“Hey,” he stops you. Makes sure you’re looking at him. 

“I thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”

You breathe out a laugh. “Great.” Your hand drops to your side, brushing against his. He expects you to move it. He’s thankful when you don’t.

“I know a place–” you continue – “one that won’t be full of drunk college kids.”

“Great,” Joel parrots you. He stands, extends a hand to help you up. You take it, letting your palm rest against his for a moment longer than necessary when you’re upright.

“Cool,” you say, clearing your throat. You pull up the Uber app on your phone. Joel watches you book a driver. Then you turn back to him with a smile. It’s different from the one he’s seen before. It’s smaller, shyer.

“Larry will be here in 4 minutes,” you say.

The bar is a twenty minutes’ drive from campus – fifteen with Larry’s lead foot.

It’s more of a lounge than a bar, really – leather armchairs accompanied by low cocktail tables arranged throughout the single large, open room. A brick fireplace sits on the back wall, currently roaring with warm orange flames. 

On either side of the fireplace are floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked with vintage books, their illegible titles etched in gold along weathered spines. You can imagine that their pages are yellowed and dusty, and it’s so tempting to swipe one off the shelf to see, to smell.

The light in here is warm, a stark contrast from the bright white of the art gallery. It’s comforting, and you feel your body immediately relax when you walk through the entrance next to Joel.

The bar at the front is busy (it is Saturday night, after all), so you and Joel stand at the back of the crowd for a few moments, waiting for the people in front of you to get their drinks. When a group of men start forcing their way through right next to you, Joel immediately puts a large hand on your shoulder, turning your body towards his. He’s just being chivalrous, making sure you don’t get shoved, but it still sends a shockwave up your spine.

When a spot clears in front of the bar, Joel steps forward, bringing you with him. He orders a whiskey neat, then turns to you, asking what you want. 

It’s difficult to think with his hand still on you, so you go with the first words that come to mind. 

“Same as you.”

He stares at you for a moment, amused, like he can see right through you and the fact that you’ve never had whiskey in your life. But you hold his gaze, challenging him with your eyes, and he drops it. “Make that two,” he tells the bartender.

Once you have your drinks, Joel slaps a few bills down on the bar. You can tell he won’t let you do so much as offer to pay him back, so you don’t. You lead him through the lounge to a couple of chairs tucked away in the back corner, partially hidden behind an antique wooden partition – far enough from the main seating area, but still close enough to the fireplace that you can feel its warmth.

This is where you always sit when you come, usually with coworkers, once or twice with him. Quentin had been pretty critical of this place, like he is with everything. He’d complained that the wine selection could be larger – that they could have more French options. When you’d explained that most of their wines come from local vineyards, he’d just rolled his eyes.

You’re still reeling a bit from your interaction with him at the gallery, even as you settle into soft leather and feel a burst of warmth against your cheek. He was such an asshole, you think, taking a cautious sip of whiskey. You’re immediately repulsed by the taste of it, and you do a poor job of hiding the grimace that automatically spreads across your face in the crook of your arm.

Joe laughs across from you. “Not your thing? I can go grab ya somethin’ else,” he offers.  

“No,” you insist, “this is fine. Just need to get used to it.” It’s a lie – you both know it – but he doesn’t push it. 

Instead he leans back, swirls his own glass – which looks comically tiny in his grip – and lets out an exaggerated sigh. 

“So, your ex is a real dick, huh?”

“You can say that again,” you mumble. 

He quirks a brow at you. “Why’d you even date him?” 

It’s a fair question. Why had you dated him? Loneliness, maybe? You’d like to blame it on that, but it’s not the truth – not entirely. Quentin had been kind, at first. He had seemed so interested in you and where you came from and what you were passionate about. He was a relatively good boyfriend, all things considered – until he’d grown tired of hiding who he really was.

You’d gotten a substantial pay raise at the end of your second year at the university. When you’d told Quentin, he’d gone quiet – practically gave you the silent treatment for days on end. When you’d finally worn him down, gotten him to talk, the most he could utter was that he was happy for you; he just wasn’t sure why he hadn’t gotten a raise like that yet. 

It’s not like you were in competition – you worked for two entirely different departments, in different colleges. But it had been a constant losing battle nevertheless, to get him to stop comparing your successes. And when he’d found out you actually made more money than him – that had pretty much been the nail in the coffin. 

You tell Joel all of this. You’re not sure why you do – it’s not like you can blame the alcohol after one half-sip of whiskey. You feel comfortable with him though, here, like this. He’s a good listener, too, attentively nodding every so often as you ramble. 

When you’re done, he’s quiet. He stares at his drink, pursing his lips. 

After a beat, he looks up at you. 

“You deserve better than that, darlin’.”

You almost crumble under his gaze. His eyes are at least two shades darker than they had been a moment ago – and there’s something lingering behind them that you can’t quite place. Whatever it is has you feeling weak.

“You barely know me,” you joke. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I know enough, though. Could do much better than him, I reckon.”

You want to ask him if he has anyone in mind, if he would be better for you, but you can’t – not yet – not this sober. You take another sip of your drink, breathing through your nose as it burns its way down your throat. 

You talk for hours. He asks about your family; you tell him how you moved out here two years ago on your own after you finished your doctorate program. He’s impressed by that, says you’re brave. You tell him you’ve never felt very brave. 

It’s all so easy, talking to Joel in the dimly-lit bar you’ve been to so many times before. Sipping on whiskey as if you actually enjoy it. It’s never felt so much like home — not the bar, not this town. The thought is dizzying.

He asks about Sarah, too, how she’s doing in school. He insists that she doesn’t tell him much, and if she does, it’s about you and how great your classes are. 

“I had never even heard of anthropology before she decided to study it,” he admits. “But I’m glad she did. It’s her thing, f’sure.” 

You smile, knowingly. “Yeah, it is. She’s a great kid, Joel. You raised her well.”

He shakes his head humbly, but you don’t relent. You want him to hear this, really hear this. Because you get the feeling he hasn’t been told enough. 

“She’s not just smart, Joel. She’s good. She’s a good person. That’s kind of rare nowadays — especially among her generation.” 

Joel chuckles, his head hanging between his shoulders. 

“I mean, shit,” you continue, “she brings me pancakes from the diner just off campus whenever she knows I’m stuck in my office working late. My other students barely even ask how I’m doing most days.”

Joel hums in amusement. His eyes are locked on a wrinkle in the leather of the arm of his chair.

“Joel,” you say, pointedly. You wait for him to look at you. When he does, his gaze is uncertain. “She’s a good person —“ you repeat — “and that’s because you raised her to be.”

“‘ts just southern hospitality, is all,” he mumbles. 

“No Joel – it’s you.”

He stares for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing. His jaw twitches. And then he breaks, finally, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Thank you.”

His voice is so soft suddenly. It throws you off. It also turns you on – like, a lot, the gravellyness of it scratching your brain and your loins. You dig your nails into leather in an attempt to steady your quickening heart rate.

“No problem,” you mutter sheepishly.

Suddenly, there’s a buzz on the table – Joel’s phone. He picks it up, squinting at the bright screen.

“Sarah?,” you ask.

“Nah, ‘ts just my brother, Tommy.”

He types out a quick response and re-locks the phone, placing it back down on the table.

“Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, jus’ asking if I think hookin’ up with a client is a bad idea,” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

You don’t know Tommy, but you like him already – seems like a fun guy. And clearly values his brother’s opinions. It’s telling, you think.

“That’s right – you’re a contractor. You and your brother work together?”

“Yeah, we got our own business back home.”

“And you like it?,” you ask. 

“Used to,” he laughs, “when I was more limber.”

You laugh too. You can feel the heat of slight intoxication, and something else, in your chest, your inhibitions dissolving in your bloodstream. And suddenly that horrible idea you’d had earlier to flirt with Joel doesn’t seem so bad anymore. 

“Still look plenty limber to me, Mr. Miller.” The words leave you before you have the chance to stop them.

Joel’s hands tense on either arm of his chair. Despite your buzz, you still have half a mind to worry that you’ve fucked up, that there’s a chance you’ve misread this whole thing.

But then he sinks back in the chair, the leather groaning under him. He rakes his dark eyes over you. And the way he’s looking at you is unmistakable. He looks hungry. You feel like your entire body has been set ablaze. 

Without thinking, you stand up, take a couple of steps toward him. Scan the lounge. Most of the remaining patrons are huddled by the bar, talking boisterously among themselves. Tucked in your little corner, the two of you might as well be in a different zip code.

“Whatcha doin’, darlin’?” Joel smirks up at you as you stand unmoving in front of him. He takes one of your hands in his and traces gentle, reassuring shapes along the back of it with his index finger.

Without a word, you hike your dress up to your thighs and straddle him, knees digging into the leather on either side of his legs. He hums approvingly as you sink onto his lap and cup his face in your hands. He places his own on your lower back, just above your ass. “This okay?,” you ask. It comes out breathy and wrecked.

“C’mere,” he says in that syrupy drawl, and then one of his hands is on the back of your head, pushing you gently against him, your lips slotting to his. 

It’s messy and all-encompassing. He kisses you with a fervency that confirms this hasn’t all been in your head –that he’s been wanting this too. 

The voices of bar-goers and the clinking of glassware are suddenly muted. All you can focus on is Joel — the way he tastes like whiskey and cinnamon gum, the way one of his large hands comes to rest at the nape of your neck, fingers tangled in the hair there while the other remains on your back, steadying you. The way he licks into your mouth after a few seconds with a groan, causing you to reflexively bare down on his lap.

You feel his cock swell underneath you and you grind against it, laughing low and quiet against his lips when his entire body tenses. He pulls back, blinking up at you with glazed-over eyes. Joel, all six feet of him, looks wrecked.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he pants. He looks down at where you’re hovering over his now fully-hard cock. “Gotta stop. Otherwise you’re gonna make me cum in my pants like a damn teenager.”

You pout at him, lifting your lower half off of his. You don’t stand up, though – not immediately, anyway. Instead, you take his head back in both of your hands. He lets you, blinking up at you wordlessly. 

You’d known when you’d first seen him earlier today that he was handsome, but right now, his face so close to yours – you’re seeing all of the little details – the scar indented in his forehead, just above his right eyebrow; the flush that stains his cheeks, which you can guess is partly from the alcohol, but maybe also from you. He’s biblically gorgeous, which makes it difficult to pry yourself off of him.

You do though, after a minute, smoothing down your dress once you’re back on two feet. You feel a bit breathless, suddenly. And exhausted.

What time is it? 

You retrieve your phone from where it’s been lodged in the cushion of your chair. 

You tap on the screen, waking it up. 

12:47?! When had it gotten so late?

Joel stands, adjusting himself in his pants. You can’t help but giggle at him — big, tough man looking positively ruined after just a few minutes of being under you. You feel pretty accomplished. He rolls his eyes at you. 

“Shut up — just get us an Uber.” You don’t miss the smile that sprouts between his cheeks when he thinks you aren’t looking.

You wait outside for your driver — John M.

The cold Vermont air is sobering. You feel almost normal by the time the car pulls up, save for the dull, throbbing ache between your legs. You will it away as you crouch into the back of the silver Nissan behind Joel. The sound of the radio playing soft rock hits is a poor distraction on the drive home.

“Wanna come in?,” you ask Joel when the car comes to a halt in front of your building. You watch him ponder it, eyes glued to the roof of the sedan. But ultimately, he shakes his head. “Can’t,” he says. “Gotta check on Sarah.”

You nod, try to hide your disappointment. “Right.” 

You open the door. Just as you’re about to get out, Joel stops you. 

“Wait,” he says. “Can I see your phone?” You’re confused, but you hand it over. You watch as he pulls up your contacts and clicks the ‘plus’ button in the corner, an understanding smile pulling at your lips. 

When he hands the phone back, his contact now in it, you grab his from off the seat next to him and do the same. 

“I’ll text you,” he promises as you step out. 

You turn back to him. “You better.”

He’s smiling when you shut the door.

You’re smiling when the car pulls away. 

It’s only when you’re tucked into bed, phone charging securely on the nightstand that the thought crosses your mind: you’re catching feelings for someone again. 

And then you feel sick.

Joel wakes up the next morning feeling giddy. It’s like he’s a teenager all over again – waiting by the phone for a pretty girl to call him back. Only this time, he’s waiting for a text.

He had messaged you almost as soon as he’d gotten back to Sarah’s apartment last night, asking if he could see you again before he goes back to Texas. He has no shame about it, he can’t – not when his entire mind and body are consumed by his overwhelming attraction to you. 

He’d found it difficult to sleep last night, and not because the springs in Sarah’s cheap couch were digging into his already-damaged back. It was thoughts of you, and the borderline-painful erection they caused, that had kept him up.

Now, with the sun seeping through the living room windows directly into his eyes, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to be awake. He checks his phone immediately, and tries to ignore the way his heart sinks when he sees you haven’t responded yet. You’re probably still asleep, he tells himself.

He tosses his phone aimlessly back onto the couch and stands with a groan. His legs feel worse than his back, if that’s even possible. 

Sarah still isn’t awake, so Joel meanders into her kitchen, in search of something to eat for breakfast. It’s pretty much what you would expect from a college student’s kitchen – bare bones. There are a few suspicious containers of leftovers in the fridge along with a Brita water pitcher and a package of cookie dough. In the freezer, several cartons of ice cream (all chocolate) and half a loaf of bread. And finally, in the cabinets, a few boxes of mac & cheese and an unopened jar of peanut butter. 

Toast it is, then.

Sarah appears just as he’s raiding her drawers for a butter knife. “Morning,” she announces sleepily behind him. 

“Hey, Kiddo,” he says, turning to face her. “Hungry?”

“Yeah. There’s a diner down the street. Thought we could get pancakes.” She yawns.

Joel grins. That must be the place you’d told him about – the one Sarah brings you leftovers from when you’re working late. 

“You buyin’?,” he jokes. 

“Only in exchange for the juicy deets from last night.” She pauses. “Okay, maybe not all the deets. There’s some things I don’t need to know – like why you got home so late.” 

“Sarah,” Joel warns, but she’s undeterred, smiling like a Cheshire Cat with every one of her unbrushed teeth on display.

“Just get changed,” she says, and skips out of the room.

You’ve been staring at the text for twenty minutes now.

Had a lot of fun tonight. Can I see you again before I leave? Let me know if you’re free tomorrow (today I guess). - Joel

You should say yes – you want to say yes – so why can’t you get your fingers to move? 

It’s a stupid question. You know why – it’s Quentin and your inability to shake the fear that someone  else will hurt you like he did. If you keep Joel at arm’s length – continue to ignore his message – he can’t do that. You can just take last night for what it was – a fun time, a hookup – and stop this before it goes too far, before feelings get involved.

Because it never ends well, once they do.

You get out of bed without responding, but you leave the text open on your phone. You attempt to busy yourself with housework and grading. Again and again though, you find your fingers hovering over the screen, your mind wandering to the way Joel’s lips had felt on yours, the way the bulge in his jeans had felt against your clothed heat, the sound of his southern drawl when he’d called you darlin’. 

Then you snap yourself out of it and place the phone face-down on the table.

This goes on for hours, a vicious cycle. You feel your resolve slipping more and more each time you pick the phone up.

The sun is high in the sky by the time you break, light bathing your kitchen and revealing all of the spots you’d missed when you’d dusted earlier. Your phone is heavy in the palm of your hand like a bomb – like if you don’t hit send right now, you’ll lose the motivation and it’ll detonate, taking any chance of you seeing Joel tonight and not self-sabotaging with it. 

You close your eyes when you press the button and toss your phone somewhere across the room.

Well – you think – no going back now.

Joel is sitting on cold, hard bleachers at the Homecoming football game when he sees you’ve responded, the shouts of people in the stands around him not enough to avert his attention.

Hey, yeah, that would be great! Do you want to come to my apartment later? I have a bottle of wine we can crack into if you’d like. And I can order pizza.

The announcer is saying something about player #72 over the loudspeaker. He doesn’t tune in. 

Joel types his reply and sends it:

Sounds perfect. I’ll come over around 7?

Sarah groans next to him. “You wanted to come to this game, dad. If you’re bored already, can we leave?”

His eyes shoot up. “No, uh – sorry. Just had to answer one text.”

Sarah narrows her eyes at him. They dart to the phone just as another message rolls in, your name flashing across the screen before Joel can hide it.

“Is that my professor?”

Joel doesn’t answer. His silence confirms enough. 

“I knew you guys hit it off last night! See, dad, even though you didn’t wanna tell me at breakfast, I still found out. I always find out. Because Sarah knows all.” She attempts a maniacal, Disney villain-esque laugh. 

Joel raises an eyebrow at her. 

“You done?”

“So you going out again later? Do I need to make your bed on the couch, or should I just not bother?”

He ignores her. Someone gets a touchdown and half the crowd goes wild. He doesn’t bother to check what team scored. 

He opens your latest message, instead.

Perfect. See you then, Cowboy ;)

His breath hitches at the nickname, at the thought of you calling him that again in person. The thought of kissing you again, if you’ll let him.

He doesn’t catch who wins the game.

Joel arrives at your apartment at seven o’clock on the dot. 

Punctual, you note.

He’s holding a bottle of wine, gripping the neck with long, calloused fingers. 

“Know you said you had some already,” he says as he steps over the threshold. “Just didn’t wanna come empty handed.” 

The sentiment takes you aback. You’re not exactly used to dates bringing you gifts, especially ones this expensive, if the minimalist yet fancy label is any indicator. 

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, taking the bottle from him. You can’t quite make out the name – something foreign, etched in cursive. 

“‘ts Italian, I think,” he mumbles, as if he can read your mind. 

Your eyes shift from the bottle to Joel, standing in front of you in his Carhartt jacket, brows furrowed, gaze trained on the floor at his feet. 

“Thank you,” you say more genuinely this time. 

Joel smiles appreciatively. You motion to the space behind you.

“Come in.” 

You lead Joel to the kitchen, just off the entranceway, and place the bottle down on the counter, gently. You tuck yourself in the corner, leaning back to rest your arms on cool granite. Joel mirrors you against the adjacent island. 

“How’s Sarah?” you ask. “Feeling any better?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, rubbing at his scruff. “She was askin’ about you. Saw me textin’ you.”

“Yeah – guess you couldn’t exactly hide this from her, staying at her apartment and all.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Guess not.”

You pop open the bottle of wine. Pour glasses for both of you. Then you order pizza: one cheese, one sausage and pepper. The person on the other end of the line tells you it’ll be thirty to forty minutes. 

“Gonna be a bit of a wait,” you tell Joel when you hang up. “Busy night, I guess.” 

He nods, takes a sip of wine, and then places the glass down, his eyes unmoving from yours. 

You realize then that he’d been staring at you the entire time you were on the phone. The way he’s looking at you – gaze the same as the one from the bar last night when you’d straddled him – has you feeling suddenly nervous.

“What?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks.

Oh.

You breathe out a laugh. It’s not funny – really, the opposite – but you hadn’t been expecting him to ask that. “Joel-” you’re going to say yes – fuck yes – but he interrupts you. 

“Been dyin’ to since last night.” He’s so open, so earnest. It’s fucking hot.

“Joel,” you say again, louder this time. He freezes. His eyes widen, like he’s anticipating your answer. 

“Please.”

It’s all he needs to hear. In an instant, he crosses the distance between you. He places his hands on the counter behind you, framing your body with his. You peer up at him and, fuck – he looks ravenous. 

He kisses you – hard. His teeth crash against yours. It’s messy and hurried, but you don’t care – you want him closer, need him closer. 

Your head swims with memories of the feeling of his bulge against your clothed core. The need to feel it again is all-consuming. You’re greedy for it. And with the time constraint, you don’t want to wait another second. 

You pull back abruptly. Joel furrows his eyebrows where he looms over you, concerned.

“Joel,” you pant,  “I need you.”

It takes him a second to compute what you’re asking. And then he’s nodding furiously.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Okay, darlin’.”

You pull him back in with a hand at the back of his neck, digging your nails into the skin there. His tongue slips into your mouth with a groan. You’re minutely aware of him shrugging his jacket off, hearing the light thump it makes when it hits the linoleum. And then his hands are on you, wandering up and down your body like he needs to feel every inch of you. He tugs at the base of your t-shirt impatiently. 

“Off,” he mumbles against your lips. You pull back only to do as he’s asked, and then you’re right back on him, sucking a bruise into the skin below his ear, your body claiming him subconsciously. His head falls back momentarily, revealing his bobbing throat. You scrape your teeth lightly along the skin there, eliciting a groan from Joel. 

Your mouth continues exploring his neck as his fingers find the clasps of your bra, unhooking them quickly and tossing it aside. You don’t see where. You don’t really care – you’ll find it later.

He grabs your now-naked sides and steps back, pulling you with him. Then he turns you and pushes you back against the island. 

He slaps the countertop behind you. “Up,” he breathes against your neck. You don’t argue. You don’t want to argue. You’re so used to being the one in charge, the one in control — right now you’re happy to bend to Joel’s will.

You grip the edge of the island with both hands and hoist yourself up so that you’re perched there, legs dangling.

Joel’s fingers immediately go to the button of your jeans, popping it open before moving to tug the zipper down. And then he’s helping you lift your hips so that he can pull them down and off. He adds them to the pile at his feet.

You’re left in nothing but your underwear splayed out on your kitchen counter in front of him. You feel like you should be self conscious, maybe even embarrassed by your depravity. But you can’t find it in you to be either, not when Joel is slotted between your legs, his dark eyes scanning over you hungrily. Showing you he needs you just as bad as you need him.

He rubs his hands over your thighs and up the sides of your body, mapping your curves with great concentration. “God damn,” he whispers, what seems to be, mostly to himself. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You whine pathetically. Your patience is growing thin.

He smirks up at you, likely seeing in your face how desperate you are for him right now. 

“‘ts okay baby, I got you,” he coos, suddenly sinking to his knees in front of you. His hands move closer to your clothed pussy, but not quite there, tracing light circles along your inner thighs. Then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, sending your hips bucking off the counter, chasing him.

The coarse hair of his mustache scratches the skin surrounding where he sucks and bites. You don’t care. You just want to feel it lower, against your dripping folds.

“Please,” you breathe, shakily. Through hooded eyes, you catch Joel’s satisfied grin. You realize then that he loves this — making you beg for it, for him. It’s a dizzying contradiction to the way he was practically begging to kiss you just moments ago.

He presses a chaste kiss against your skin, his lips infuriatingly close to where you need them most.

“Whatcha need, darlin’?” he purrs. The vibration of his voice just next to your core has you spiraling. 

“Need your mouth,” you cry. “Please.”

“Where?” He nips at you, half an inch closer to your swollen clit. You can feel his breath. Your cunt reactively clenches around nothing. 

“On my pussy, Joel” you plead. 

He pulls away from you completely, looks up at you with devilish eyes.

“Good girl.”

He dips one finger into the side of your underwear, pulling them aside to reveal your glistening core. “Damn baby, you’re soaked,” he drawls. You catch the hint of pride that tinges his voice. 

“Please,” you beg again, your voice wanton and broken.

Joel gently pets your throbbing clit with the pad of his thumb. The pressure he applies is feather-light, barely there. But still, after all the teasing, you can’t help the embarrassingly loud moan that escapes you.

He chuckles darkly. “Alright sweetheart, I know – enough teasin’.”

He hooks both index fingers in the top of your panties, pulling them down and off in one swift movement. And then his tongue is on you, exactly where you need it. 

He holds you open with fingers digging deliciously into the meat of your thighs as he licks long, languid stripes from your leaking cunt up to your clit, over and over again until you’re a whimpering mess underneath him. You struggle to hold your weight up on your elbows, watching him as he works you with his mouth.

He’s so good at this – too good at this. You tell him as much, between broken moans. 

“Sofuckinggood Joel – holy shit.”

You swear you can feel him smirk against your heat. 

He buries his face into your cunt then, nose pressed against your clit, and swivels his head back and forth, coating his mustache and beard in your arousal. He groans against you, like this is getting him off just as much as you. It’s all so obscene, so filthy.

You’ve never had a man go down on you like this – like they actually enjoy it. But then again, it doesn’t come as much of a surprise, not when it’s Joel. You’ve quickly come to learn that he’s attentive in every sense of the word. Knows just what you want, what you need – evident by the way his lips latch back onto your clit when you keen for him.

He keeps his attention there, switching between suckling on it – which is enough to make you see stars on its own – and lapping at it with short, shallow flicks of his tongue. He experiments with different angles, licking at different spots on the bundle of nerves until he finds the one that makes you cry out, your babbles of there Joel, yes, right fucking there, don’t stop, letting him know exactly where to focus. 

You feel yourself quickly hurtling toward the edge. You just need a little bit more to get you there.

“Fingers,” you pant. “Need your fingers in me.”

Two of his fingers are at your entrance before you can even blink. You’re so wet that he slides them in easily, curling them against your walls. He expertly finds your G-spot, massaging it as his tongue continues to lap at your clit.

You gasp at the combination. It’s so good – so much.  “Oh my god Joel, I’m so close,” you cry.

He doesn’t let up, doesn’t even look at you. His eyes are closed in concentration, fingers and tongue unrelenting. He’s lost in your pussy. You can tell he’s not going to come up for air until he’s given you an orgasm. 

And it doesn’t take much longer – one, two, three more strokes of his fingers and you’re cumming hard.

Your vision blurs and your ears ring in your head. You’re vaguely aware that Joel is pinning one of your thighs down with his free hand to hold you in place as you thrash against the countertop. 

He fucks you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he continues to curl them against that spot, your clit throbbing against his tongue. 

It is – without a doubt – the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down, eager to milk every last drop from your weeping cunt. The overstimulation is too much. Your grip tightens in his hair, weakly attempting to pull him off of you as you whimper nonsense above him. You manage to exhale his name, or something close to it, and he finally lifts his face.  

His eyes meet yours, dark and hooded. He looks absolutely pussydrunk.

The entire lower half of his face is soaked with your slick. His shiny, pink lips pepper kisses along your inner thighs, smoothing over the spots he’d marked with his teeth just minutes ago. You feel so sensitive – you shiver under his touch. 

His smile curves into your skin. He leaves one last light peck and stands up, grunting at the ache in his knees. You laugh, but you can tell by the darkness still looming in his gaze that he’s not done with you yet.

He helps you off the counter, steadying you with hands gripping your sides as you find your footing. Your legs feel like Jell-O, a welcomed side-effect of the earth-shattering orgasm you’ve just had. You lead Joel to your bedroom, leaving your clothes scattered across the kitchen floor.

He backs you toward the bed as soon as you’re in your room, lips latched to the side of your neck. The backs of your legs hit the mattress, and then he’s lowering both of your bodies onto it, cradling your head in his hand as you settle underneath him.

He sits back on his knees, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal his broad, tan torso. You’re pretty sure you’re salivating, lost in the slope of his shoulders and the wide expanse of his chest. Your eyes trail lower as he undoes his belt, followed by the button of his jeans. He shimmies them off along with his boxers, his large cock springing free, tip shiny with pre-cum, and hovers back over your eager body. 

He dips down and presses his lips to yours, prying your mouth open with his tongue. He’s remarkably patient for how hard he is, his erection pressing into your thigh as he kisses you, slow and wet.

One of his hands grips your jaw, the other pressed firmly against the mattress next to you. Minutes pass like that, you and Joel losing yourselves in each other. Then you remember that you don’t have all the time in the world – that your delivery driver could get here any minute. In truth, you’re not even fucking hungry anymore – not for pizza, anyway.

You snake your hand up to the back of Joel’s head, pulling at his roots lightly. “Joel,” you breathe when he lifts off of you, “please fuck me.”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice.

“How do you want it, baby?” he purrs in your ear, his warm breath skating over your skin. “How do you like it?”

You breathe out a moan. No man has ever asked you how you like it. They usually just give you a few sloppy, ill-timed thrusts, whatever they can muster before cumming and leaving you unsatisfied. 

But Joel isn’t just any man. 

“Hard,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me hard.”

He growls, low and dark. “‘ts right, sweetheart.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, rutting against your folds a few times to gather some of your wetness with the tip of his cock.

Then he sinks into you, slowly, stretching your walls as he notches further and further in. There’s a sweet, stinging pain, one you hope, fleetingly, that you’ll be able to feel tomorrow – like a keepsake from him. 

You sigh when he reaches the hilt, his tip nudging your cervix. He stills, letting you get used to his girth and you have to dig your nails into his back to keep from writhing under him. You don’t mind if it hurts – you just need him to move. 

“Please,” you whine, unable to stop your hips from bucking any longer. “I can take it, Joel.”

“Know you can, baby,” he coos, beginning to rock slowly inside of you. The pleasure is immediate, washing over your body like a warm wave.

He picks up the pace when he’s sure it feels good for you, dragging his cock halfway out of you and thrusting back in, over and over again. 

He grabs both of your legs, bending them so that you’re spread wide open for him, and grips the backs of your knees tightly as he slams into you. He can get so much deeper like this, his cock hitting a spot you didn’t even know you had. You let out a labored moan, fingers anchored into his delts.

“Talk to me darlin — tell me how it feels,” he pants.

“So – fuck, Joel – so fucking good.”

Joel drops his mouth to your shoulder, nips at the skin there. 

His voice is in your ear, a low snarl.

“‘Better than that fuckin ex, I bet.” 

You’d be annoyed by his cockiness – if he wasn’t so right.

But he is, and so you parrot, “So much better.” And then, because it’s the truth, you add, “the best.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hips stuttering at your words. “Can’t say that angel, you’ll make me cum.”

He pulls out and slams back into you again, setting a new, devastating pace. He fills you up just to leave you empty, over and over again. You’re a babbling mess underneath him, couldn’t string two more words together if you tried. Luckily, Joel is happy to take over and do the talking. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, babygirl. Make the most gorgeous noises, too.”

You’re so fucking close, you can only whimper in response. You feel your walls tighten around him.

He presses your foreheads together, his sweaty curls sticking to your skin. His eyes bore into yours. 

“C’mon baby, show me – show me how pretty ya are when ya cum on this cock.”

He brings one hand down to your clit, rubbing sloppy circles over it as he continues spearing into you. You hike your newly-freed leg up over his lower back.  A white heat licks at your spine. You barely have time to tell Joel you’re about to cum, your warning coming out a single cry of his name. He gets it, though, bringing you over the edge with his words. 

“I got you, baby, I got you; you can let go.”

Your orgasm barrels through you, from the tips of your toes all the way up to your ears. Joel doesn’t let up his ministrations, talking you through it as you writhe under him. 

“Thaaaats it. Good – ahh – good fuckin’ girl.” 

The only word you can think of in your state of euphoria is his name, chants of Joel, Joel, Joel spilling from the back of your throat as you cum.

You’re squeezing his cock through your aftershocks, and you can tell he’s close by the way his thrusts become more and more uneven. 

“Fuck – where do you want it?” he braces both palms against the mattress on either side of you.

“Inside – please, Joel,” you beg. “I’m on the pill.”

He curses in ecstasy,  cumming seconds later with a series of low grunts. His hips stall as he spills inside of you. There’s so much of it – he’s nearly drowning your cervix, coating your walls with rope after rope of his spend. 

He softens inside you, staying there for a long moment as you both come down from your highs. You’re sweaty, panting messes, and you can’t help but giggle at how spent you both sound. 

“Good?” he asks, nosing at the space just below your jaw. It’s so soft, so gentle. Your stomach does a backflip.

“Yeah,” you say. “Really fucking good.”

He pulls out of you with a low, guttural noise. You sigh at the loss of him, your hand coming down reflexively  to feel where he’s leaking out of you. His fingers graze yours, and he bumps them aside to scoop up some of your combined fluids. 

He brings his wet, sticky fingers to your lips, humming when you immediately take them into your mouth and suck them clean, eyes unmoving from his the entire time. You bat your eyelashes at him, innocently as he pulls them out with a wet pop.

“Fuck,” he curses, “gonna get me hard again, angel.”

He lays down next to you, letting his head thump against the pillow, and flexes his biceps behind his head. You kind of hope he does get hard again, despite the fact that your whole body feels like liquid. Like if you were to try and stand, your legs would most definitely give out on you. They’re trembling right now, where you have them half-bent, heels dug into the mattress.

Your phone rings, then, snapping you out of your post-coital bliss. Fuck – the pizza.

You answer, trying your best to hide the undeniably fucked-out lilt of your voice as you tell the delivery person that someone will be right down.

Joel laughs next to you when you hang up. “I’ll get it – hold on.”

He jumps out of bed and dresses quickly. You’re gawking at him as he does. You can’t help it. This man – probably the hottest man you’ve ever seen – was just inside of you. You want to pat yourself on the back. He notices you staring as he’s zipping up his jeans and shoots you a wink.

Joel deadbolts your front door and disappears into the hallway. He returns moments later, shutting and re-locking the door, and strides back into your bedroom with both boxes. You can see the steam coming off of them through the cardboard. 

He sets them down by your feet.

“In bed?” you ask, sitting up against the headboard. 

“Well I’m not sure you can walk to the kitchen, darlin’.”

Your face heats. He has a point. But he doesn’t have to be so smug about it. You roll your eyes at him and mumble something nonsensical under your breath as you tuck yourself in under your duvet.

“What was that?” He quirks an eyebrow.

Long gone is the shy Joel from earlier this evening. He knows your body now, knows how hard he makes you cum. He’s a whole different man post-coitus – bolder. It makes you damn near melt.

And maybe you’re different now too. Because you’re pretty sure you’d give up your vow of solitude for him, if he asked.

It’s crazy, probably. You’ve only known Joel for two days, after all. But you can’t help the way that he ( and his dick) makes you feel. Like maybe there’s a promise of something down the line, however serious that something may be. You just know you want to give yourself the opportunity to experience it, no matter how it ends.

“Nothing.” You break, grin pulling tight at the corners of your mouth. “Just get me a slice of cheese.”

He lets his gaze linger for a second longer, the faux-threat of it heating you from the inside out. And then he’s vanishing into the kitchen, returning with two plates and a stack of paper towels. 

He dishes up slices for the both of you, climbing into bed next to you and handing over yours. 

He settles in with a content sigh.

You both eat in happy silence for a few minutes, Joel giving you a satisfied nod when he finishes up his first slice. “‘ts good,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food. 

“Right?” you retort. “It’s my favorite pizza around here.”

He hums in agreement. Pulls the box of sausage and pepper onto his lap to grab another slice.

“So,” you start, “you’re heading home tomorrow?” It’s more of a statement than a question. You know he is. But still, part of you wants Joel to say no, tell you that he’s canceled his flight, that he’s decided to stick around for a bit longer. 

“Yeah,” he says. You feel your heart sink. You silently curse yourself for being delusional. 

“Are you excited?” you try. “To be home?”

He doesn’t respond right away – his forehead wrinkling and his lips falling into a small frown. You watch as he thinks on it. 

“Not really,” he admits after a few seconds. 

“I know you’ll miss Sarah,” you say, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. 

He peers down at you with a heavy sigh. “So much…” His voice trails off, like there’s something else he wants to add, but can’t. 

The air feels thick, suddenly – heavy. You try your best to lighten it.

“Can’t stay a bit longer? Let Tommy run things for a while?”

“No,” he laughs. “Pretty sure he’ll just end up screwin’ every client we got.” 

“And you’d end up screwing every one of Sarah’s professors,” you tease. 

His mouth falls open in mock-offense. He grabs at both your sides, suddenly, letting the open box of pizza slide off of his lap and onto the bed. He tickles relentlessly just under your ribs, causing you to squeal and squirm under his grip.

“Joel,” you cry in between fits of laughter. “Stop!” 

“I don’t think so, darlin’,” he tuts. He removes one of hands momentarily, to toss your plate aside, and then he’s hooking one of his legs over your body, straddling you. He looks so big like this, his body hanging over yours. You feel content – safe. His hands release you, finally, coming to settle on either side of your head on your pillow. You blink up at him. He’s staring down at you with narrowed eyes. 

“What?” 

“Nothin,” he mumbles. “‘ts just, I wouldn’t, ya know. Sleep with anyone else, I mean. If you didn’t want me to.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know that if you respond, it’ll come out way too eager. So you just blink at him again. 

“Would you want to keep talkin’ after I get home?”

Yes, you want to say. Please. I don’t think I could go on without knowing if I’ll get to see you again – fuck you again.

You swallow. Collect yourself. 

“Yeah. I would.”

You shimmy under Joel so that you can sit up. He straightens out, shifting his weight onto his knees. Takes both of your hands in his and pulls you up.

His eyes are still locked on yours. “I know we just met this weekend,” he says. “But I had a lot’a fun with you. I like you.” 

Your cheeks warm. “I like you too, Joel.” 

He smiles. “‘m glad.”

“Doesn’t have to be anythin’ serious,” he continues. Lets his fingers trace aimlessly along the inside of your arm. “We can jus’ see where it goes.”

“Yeah,” you nod, your heart squeezing in your chest. “See where it goes. I like that.” 

And it’s the truth. You do. In the stillness, your legs tucked under the covers, Joel caressing you, you feel, for the first time in a long time, happy to not be alone. And you know you will be again, very soon, when Joel leaves to go back home. But then again, you won’t – not really. His voice will be there, a phone call away, and his body will be there, in the divot he’s left in your mattress. And you’ll have the promise of taking this slow, seeing where it goes. 

You’ve never been so excited for the future. 

end notes: tysm for reading! I may turn this into a series if people want more of these two <3 lmk hehe

[sleepymarimo]

𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙!

summary: just a small list of qualities & traits which may be ideal for these op men when it comes to choosing a partner pairing(s): luffy x reader, zoro x reader, sanji x reader notes: based off my personal opinion of the monster trio and what we've seen from them! i also tried to utilize their alleged mbti and enneagram types. i totally didn't get butthurt while writing this (cries)

luffy

adaptability. luffy marches to the beat of his own drum. a dinner date might quickly turn into infiltrating an underground criminal organization. its just how he is! having a partner that can roll with the punches, maybe even enjoy it, without feeling neglected, is ideal

he doesn't like the predictable and will take any opportunity to spice things up. someone who panics when plans go off track, who finds comfort in having routine, may not be the best match for him

commitment. someone who is flaky and can't keep their promises is a big red flag for him. he craves connection and loyalty. despite his childlike enthusiasm, his feelings run deep. his pain isn't something he openly shares, as he opts to express himself happily, but he will open up his his soul to you if he knows you'll be there, no matter what

following the first point of adaptability, know that luffy will show up for you regardless of the situation. a date or outing or fight might not go as planned, but he won't leave you hanging he will want to take on your big emotions too. he loves feeling, he loves knowing your feelings and understanding you. while he might not necessarily agree with all perspectives, he can see where people come from. be open with him, don't hide

creativity. this captain hates boredom and routine. he does things his own way and enjoys thinking outside the box. his partner would likely be the same way. a big imagination and a lot of enthusiasm draws luffy in. if you constantly shut down ideas without offering any of your own, it frustrates him

he would love doing things like arts and crafts with a partner. anything hands on will catch his attention! loves talking about the future. goes back to the point regarding commitment. he doesn't care if the ideas you offer are crazy or unrealistic, as long as you have him in mind for what's to come, he's all in luffy attracts people, its just how he is. to keep him actively interested, he needs excitement. if the two of you are cuddling and you're looking too cozy, he might have to start a tickle fight

vocal and affectionate. luffy feeds off the energy around him and gets satisfaction from others. he loves seeing his nakama happy and the same goes for his partner. it could be as small as a smile or as grand as tackling him to the ground- let him know, verbally and through action, that he's doing well and making you happy!

words of affirmation and quality time! he'll never get tired of hearing you talk and very much prefers it over silence. even if it's the most obscure and obtuse topic, he doesn't care as long as it comes out of your mouth a partner who is easily embarrassed by pda may not be the best match for him. luffy has no shame and will not hesitate to pull you to his side and drag you off towards whatever adventure he has planned. he'll be confused and maybe even slightly offended if you push him off

patient. luffy is not the most easy person to deal with at times. along with being patient, he would love a partner who revels in the attention he gives and can also reciprocate it without getting too overwhelmed.

however, sometimes, you want your own space and time to do things. luffy might take this as a personal hit to himself, since he's much more receptive to the criticism of his partner. this is why he would also do well with someone who is...

gentle and constructive. don't snap at the man or suddenly grow distant! if he truly loves you and is in deep, he'll be hurt and might even force himself deal with an issue in a bid to 'solve' the conflict. taking the time to explain things to him while giving him a healthy dose of affection will work wonders

will very much ask what he did wrong if you ever say you want time away from him. his extroversion makes him able to be in the company of others for extended periods of time without needing to take time for himself a partner with emotional awareness would be great for him. he feels a lot, and he feels it very strongly, so having someone who can read him is great!

likes unique features! freckles, scars, killer eyeliner... luffy is drawn to people who look interesting. before he really gets to know you, he'll probably associate you with whatever he finds most captivating about you!

zoro

independent. this man values his ambitions. having a partner with a full and functional life, outside of the relationship, is something he would admire and respect. he sees a relationships as a union between two individuals, very much egalitarian. he's loyal and passionate to the core, would do most anything for his partner, but he also expects the same in return. all or nothing.

you recognizing him as a being, as an individual, really makes him comfortable. codependency and clinginess, too many expectations will have him retreating talks of marriage and future endeavours might also be touchy. as much as he craves stability in a long term partnership, he also values his freedom and being unconstrained by expectations. don’t set marriage dates or make a ‘plan’ for the relationship. he loves you, but he truthfully doesn't know what the future holds. all he knows is that he wants you now. the act of choosing you in the first place shows that he has you in mind for the future- he won’t get into a relationship for fun or for the sake of keeping his bed warm. he takes it more seriously than you think!!

private. you're a team, a unit. if something comes up, talk to him first. he gets needing to consult with friends for outside perspective, that's understandable, and he might even do the same. but giving your friends the hot gossip, spilling details about your relationship- it ticks him off

does not necessarily mean he prefers a quiet partner! he enjoys listening to his partner and participating in engaging conversations about obscure topics. does not care much for drama can be quite empathetic, but you have to let him know how you're feeling. he won't figure it out on his own, but once he understands where you’re coming from he becomes a lot more reasonable.

respectful. his pride is important to him. he doesn't like embarrassing himself or being embarrassed. he enjoys your teasing and affection in private, but in public prefers to hold himself to a certain standard

if you ignore these boundaries, maybe embarrass him for the sake of a good laugh, he gets a bit irritated, even if it is only for lighthearted fun preferring to do things alone, zoro knows he's starting to fall for someone when he lets someone join him for the smallest of things. could be polishing swords in silence or sharing some sake- the fact that he wants you around, even if he isn't too outwardly expressive of it, is meaningful. respect and cherish the time he gives you, don't complain of boredom or head off to do something with someone else loves you and adores you, but will not put you on a pedestal. will point out hypocrisies and double standards. don't take this point the wrong way, because once he's committed, he's committed, and won't let the relationship go that easily, but he respects himself he expects you to call him out if he ever treads over your boundaries as well

understanding & perceptive. this man very much does things how he wants, when he wants. not to say that he's inconsiderate, not at all, but sometimes things come up that simply demand his attention. if he's on his way to meet up with you and sees some marines unjustly terrorizing civilians, he won't think twice. know that in his heart, he'd never intentionally do anything to hurt you

if he chooses you, he expects you to have trust in him and his intentions. having a partner that can read between the lines and see the magnitude of his actions is something he appreciates he won't outright ask for much of his partner, so, ideally, they should be perceptive enough to give him what he needs. show him and tell him that you appreciate what he does acts of service and physical touch!

realistic, or perhaps even idealistic. he admires those with lofty goals and ambitions, those who are aware that what they seek won't just be handed to them on a silver platter

relationship-wise, zoro would appreciate a partner who is aware of the facts…without getting butthurt yes, sometimes he wants time alone, even from you. no, it doesn't mean that he doesn't love you. yes, he'll protect you with all his heart and soul, but you can't expect him to hold your hand on every island you stop on. you're pirates- this won't be a sappy love story

supportive. a partner who shows interest in his craft will get his attention. you don't have to be an expert on the ways of the blade, but asking him questions and allowing him a chance to engage in something he's passionate about will draw him out of his shell

asking about swordsmanship is probably what drew him to you in the first place. he won't bother with conversation if its not something he's interested in, so its a good way to get his attention! similarly, if he's genuinely in love, he would go the extra mile to learn about his partner's interests and passions. he is an intense lover

zoro is a bit indifferent when it comes to physical preferences. he's very much drawn towards character above all else. however, in my opinion, due to his friendship with kuina, he does tend to have a soft spot for those with darker hair and eyes, maybe even someone taller than him

sanji

generosity. sanji is a giver and is not afraid to show it. it's a double edged sword. he's shown that he is willing to sell himself short, willing to put himself down if its for the sake of others. while he enjoys giving, revels in it, he desperately craves someone who can coddle and spoil him rotten

ideal partner would not be embarrassed of him or push him away. he's a sensitive soul, afraid of abandonment from the one he loves most. accepting his love with a smile and returning it with equal or greater fervor would send him over the moon partner does not necessarily have to be super bubbly or extroverted to check this point! if sanji loves you, he knows you. a quiet partner who gives him a smile and squeezes his hand can be just as reassuring as an extroverted partner pulling him into a hug

emotional depth. this man would merge his very soul with yours if it were possible. sees partnership as a bond that will transcend all else and won't accept anything less. allowing him to explore you, all of you, will not only make him feel trusted, but truly connected to you

seconding this, a partner who can be open with him would be ideal. if you close yourself off, hesitate to divulge information, he might feel that he is doing something wrong. he understands needing time to process emotions, so if that's what you want, then at least make him aware of that he will be just as open. you're his safe space, his haven

committed and idealistic. this is a man who loves to talk about the future. marriage, kids, how your kitchen will look like… it warms his heart and makes him feel secure. it lets him know, even if some of the ideas are outlandish, that you have him in mind for the long run

partners that find discussing such commitments to be nerve racking, may make this cook a little panicky. you might not doubt him, but he would wonder why you felt the need to avoid the topic. did you not see him as someone you could be with in the future? talk with him, dream big with him

organized and orderly. he recognizes the effort it takes to formulate a plan and execute it, especially when it comes to dates and gifts. in the moment, spontaneous outings are meaningful, but don't hold as much weight as something which requires effort and is tailored to his partners wants and needs. he's a planner and likes when things fall into place

also ties to previous point about commitment. he finds comfort in planning a future with you and discussing your desires

compassionate. ties back to first point relating to generosity. sanji will very much push aside his own wants as long as you're happy. having a partner who can get him to speak up for himself, and actually listen, would be a dream come true. when he treats you and spoils you, he expects nothing in return. its just how he is. reciprocating and giving him his own spot in the limelight will heal him in ways he didn't even know he needed

unlike the marimo, sanji will put you on a pedestal. he thinks you're an angel, incapable of wrong. sanji needs a compassionate partner who recognizes this and gently reminds him that it takes two to form a partnership, and that he is just as worthy of love sanji does not do well being criticized by his partner. lack of reciprocation and a general disinterest in him will turn him away

reliability. he'll be in your corner, always. in a pirate world where everything is tumultuous and unpredictable, he finds solace in knowing that his partner is waiting for him. you being there for him, regardless of the situation, makes him even more eager to please you and show you that he's worthy of your affections. the simple act of showing up means more to him than most

sanji has been known to indulge in the finer things. aesthetics and looks are what catch his attention and he floods most any pretty thing with affection. however, its that emotional connection and depth, authenticity and passion, which ultimately keep him hooked

disclaimer: don't worry if you lack any of these traits- any relationship can work! these things work in mysterious ways... as long as there's proper communication and love, i'm sure any of these one piece men would adore being with you ૮ • ﻌ - ა

[ironcroft11]

In defense of Gwen in Across the Spider-Verse

Okay. First of all: This post is gonna be super long and have tons of spoilers so if you don’t want to get spoiled for Across the Spider-Verse then don’t read this post. I have seen way too many people hate on Gwen because of her actions and her behavior towards Miles in Across the Spider-Verse. I’ll show you why that hate completely misses her arc in the movie and her true intentions/relationship with Miles. This post will also delve into Gwiles/Ghostflower since that is a big part of what shapes her intentions.  Many people say Gwen betrayed Miles and doesn’t really care about him. They say Miles shouldn’t forgive her and that she is a snake for what she did. I’ll show you why the opposite is true by going through the events of the movie in cronological order: The movie literally starts off with Gwen talking about Miles. She is drumming away, which is, mentioned by herself, a way for her to cope with her feelings. That opening from Gwen is a small glimpse into her head. We see how she feels and what she thinks. The interesting thing is that it’s basically Gwen broadly narrating the events of the entire movie. We even see glimpses of future scenes in that intro. The line of narration that is most important here is Gwen saying “I didn’t want to hurt him. But I did. And he is not the only one.” This shows us IMMEDIATELY that Gwen did not intend to hurt Miles AT ALL. Quite the contrary. It also shows that she is AWARE she hurt Miles. She knows she fucked up. That is going to be important later on when she needs to make the tough decision regarding Miles/The Spider Society. 

We then follow her as she goes home, still thinking about Miles and then, of course, her Peter. Note that this is roughly 1 year after Into the Spider-Verse. 1 year after she met Miles she still thinks about him daily. “I haven’t really made any friends after that [Peter’s death], except one. But there is no way to get there.” She misses Miles and wishes there was a way to visit him. Obviously she still very much cares and thinks about him.

At Gwen’s home we are first shown what her conflict with her father looks like. That conflict is obviously one of the main aspects of her arc and what drives her actions later on in the movie. You can see it is strained but you can still see that they obviously love each other very much. Gwen struggles as her father is basically hunting her down without knowing its is actually her. What pains her the most, though, is that her father is convinced that Spider-Gwen killed her best friend, Peter Parker. That way he, without knowing, makes Gwen feel guilty about the death of her best friend. Gwen is trying to get over Peter’s death but is held back by her dad, unbeknownst to him. 

Gwen caring and missing Miles a lot is brought up again when she sees the picture of her and Miles that they made in Into the Spider-Verse (which she had made into a polaroid so she can actually have it on her/in her hands). Her eyes look on with sadness and her color is dark blue. The colors in Gwen’s dimension are used to portray her feelings. Dark/blue tones for sadness and light/pink tones for happiness/comfort. At this point, seeing Miles again is probably one of her dearest wishes. Miles understands her and knows who she truly is. This is going to be important later on.

During Gwens fight with Vulture at the Museum we are introduced to Miguel O’hera, Spider-Man 2099, who saves her from Vulture. He introduces himself but Gwen seems unimpressed and uninterested. What she is very much interested in, though, is Miguel’s Dimension Watch. “You can go to any dimension you want with that watch?” She just met an entirely new Spider-Man and all she is interested in is his technology that might allow her to go and visit Miles. That is how much she misses him.

As the duo fight off Vulture Miguel calls for back-up and they are joined by Spider-Woman Jessica Drew. Her and Gwen have an immediate bond which will be very important later on. Gwen immediately looks up to her and sees her as a mentor from who she can learn a lot. Gwen impresses Jessica so much that she asks Miguel if they want to recruit her for Miguel’s Spider-Society. “What about her?” “No.” “Why not?” “You know why.” Miguel and Jessica studied the entire Kingpin collider event. They know who was involved and they know that Gwen and Miles are friends. Miguel doesn’t want to recruit Gwen because she is too close to Miles. Why that is a problem we all know. (Miles being the original anomoly) From the start they knew Gwen’s relationship with Miles might end up jeopardizing their goal of protecting the Spider-Verse.

We then go on to this scene. Gwen confronting her father and her father finding out that Spider-Woman, the vigilante he was dedicated to catching and locking up, is actually his daughter. This is a key moment in Gwen’s arc throughout the movie. Her father accuses her of lying to him. All Gwen wants right now is support from her father. She doesn’t get that, instead her father wants to lock her up for the murder of her Peter Parker. At this point she is immensely conflicted. “I don’t know how to fix this.” Jessica Drew notices that and convinces Miguel to let Gwen join the Spider-Society. 

Gwen seeing no immediate solution to her problem decides to accept the invite. She is not yet ready to confront the problem and walks away from it, despite being conflicted. This will be at the back of her head throughout her entire arc and throughout the entire movie. Until she is ready to confront her dad who, remember, wants to lock her up, she CAN’T return to her home dimension. Her going back would mean her having to confront a problem she is not yet ready to confront. 

The next time we see Gwen is after we are introduced to Miles again. This is Gwen seeing Miles again for the first time after 1 year and 4 months. Her immediate reaction is to tightly hug him. You can, in that hug alone, see how much she missed him. You can also pick up all kind of little things in this scene. One is how awkward Gwen is. She is cringing at herself for telling him he had a growth spurt. There are obviously some unresolved feelings between the two.

Gwen then goes through his sketchbook and finds Miles’ drawings of her. She is surprised to see so many drawings of her but plays it off smoothly. “Missed you too.” It’s obvious that both missed each other immensely. But we haven’t even seen the entire extend of how MUCH Gwen ACTUALLY missed Miles. We only find out about that a bit later.

Miles and Gwen then swing through the city and catch up. Their chemistry is on full display here. I absolutely adore this scene. Gwen tells Miles that the Spider-Society is really strict about where she goes otherwise she would have come to visit him sooner. What’s important here is that at this point Gwen KNOWS about Miles’ “condition”. She knows he is an anomoly and she knows that his father dying is a canon event. And at this time she BELIEVES in these canon events. She thinks they must be upheld or the multiverse collapses. That’s what Miguel told her. 

During their swing Gwen uses a moment in which Miles is distracted to place her surveillance device for Spot. You can see, even with her mask, how much it pains her to keep the truth from Miles nd having to leave him in the dark. We find out: Gwen is not here because of Miles but because she is supposed to catch Spot since Spot is an anomoly. 

What follows is one of the biggest Gwiles moments in the movie and also a very important scene when it comes to Gwen and her feelings towards Miles. They sit down at the Williamsburgh Bank Building and have a heart to heart. 

Gwen tells Miles that it is always so great to talk to him and that he is the only friend she ever really made since Peter died. Miles, knowing about Hobie, says “Other than Hobie, right?” and Gwen answers “That’s different.” This shows us that Gwen’s relationship and feelings for Miles are different from the relationship she has with Hobie. That’s because she literally has feelings for Miles, and she knows that Miles, in some way at least, feels the same. “We’re the same, in the important ways.” Gwen then says a line that literally shows she has fallen for Miles, otherwise there would be no need for her to mention it. “In every other universe Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-Man.” This is Gwen telling Miles that she has feelings for him. 

Hearing that reassures Miles and he moves his hand closer to hers. 

This is important: Gwen sees this! 

And then closes her eyes and flinches. She flinches because she wants to take his hand so bad that it literally pains her that she can’t. We find out why she can’t with her next words: “And in every other universe it doesn’t end well.” Gwen knows about canon events and knows they need to happen. She was probably being told that Gwen Stacy falling for Spider-Man and it not ending will is a canon event. 

She then gives Miles a look that I can only describe as “loving”. She would probably love to tell him more about canon events and everything regarding the Spider-Society. But like she said: She doesn’t know how to. She doesn’t want to hurt him and she wants to protect him.

Miles then tells her “There’s a first time for everything, right?” which makes Gwen chuckle and smile at him. It’s the first time where Gwen is confronted with Miles’ philosophy of going down his own patch and not bending to the rules of canon. Even if canon dictates something, Miles believes there is always a way. 

This rubs off on Gwen as she affectionately leans on Miles, enjoying the sunset with him.  Not only is this overall scene incredibly beautiful and masterfully animated but its purpose is to show us that these two indeed love each other. They want to be together but Gwen, at this stage, feels like canon is against them.

Miles and Gwen then enjoy some food in quiet and keep talking about the Spider-Society and how Miles wants to be a part of it. Gwen, without being able to tell him the truth, shuts him down and lies to him. Again, she is not ready to tell him everything, the same way she is not ready to confront her father. These 2 conflicts go hand in hand as they are her 2 biggest conflicts that she has to overcome. Gwen then snaps at Miles because he was about to find the surveillance footage of Spot which would therefore uncover her true reason for being there. Gwen obviously doesn’t want that to happen because she doesn’t want to hurt Miles. She wants to keep him away from the Spider-Society because she knows he is an anomoly AND because she knows he wouldn’t be safe there.

After she snaps at him she immediately apologizes though. They both get REALLY close after that, closer than I had remembered from my first viewing. They also lock eyes. I’m pretty sure if not for Rio, Miles and Gwen would have kissed here. Rio interrupts them and they have an awkward talk. Rio and Jeff obviously think there is something going on between Miles and Gwen which is the source of the awkwardness. 

Gwen then gets a signal from her dimension watch which is caused by the explosion that Spot caused. She missed her time window to catch him because she was having so much fun being around Miles. Gwen quickly leaves after that, having to lie to both Miles and his parents. 

You can tell she doesn’t want to leave Miles. She wants to stay, but she can’t. She is conflicted. And she is conflicted throughout the entire movie. That makes her arc so interesting. 

What follows is one of the most important interactions in the movie that show Gwen’s motives. She arrives at the explosion and realizes Spot escaped. Jessica Drew, who Gwen looks up to, remember, calls her and asks her where Spot is. Gwen tries to play the whole situation down, not wanting to be seen as a failure. That has one big reason: Since Gwen is a liability to the Spider-Society because of her connection to Miles she has to constantly prove her worth, otherwise Miguel will send her back to her universe. That is one of Gwens biggest fears. Having to confront her father again. She is not yet ready for that so she basically does everything that is asked of her, even if she doesn’t necessarily agree with it.  Jessica notices that Gwen is nervous and asks her if she visited Miles. Gwen again tries to play it down but eventually admits she went to see Miles. Jessica gets angry with her and Gwen tells her she will never see Miles again. Her voice noticeably breaks when she says that. That interaction tells us one very important point: Gwen was not allowed to visit Miles. AT ALL. Miguel has forbidden Gwen to see Miles. He probably also told her why. Miles is an anomoly and him getting entangled with the Spider-Society might end up badly. And Gwen, knowing all that, knowing she might risk the multiverse, knowing she might risk getting sent back to her own dimension and having to confront her father, STILL decided to visit Miles. That is how much she cares about Miles. She literally risked the stabilty of the multiverse for the opportunity to see Miles again. Even if its only for one evening. This alone should end the debate about how Gwen “doesn’t care about Miles”. She obviously does. A lot. 

This can be taken even further.  “You never made a mistake? Never got too close to someone?” This is literally Gwen telling Jessica that the reason she went to see Miles is because she has feelings for him. Jess replies by saying she did but that she got over it, prompting Gwen to do the same. We, of course, know that she can’t. 

This is one of the most emotional scenes in the movie for me. After Gwens dialogue with Jess she knows her only chance to stay on Miguels good side is to follow Spot to Mumbattan and catch him. She has to leave and knows she will never see Miles again. She longingly looks towards the rooftop she and Miles stood on just moments ago, not knowing Miles is invisible and right in front of her.  She whispers a last “Goodbye Miles” as she heartbreakingly decides to leave. As much as it pains Gwen, she thinks leaving now without explaining anything to Miles might hurt him, but it does keep him safe and away from the Spider-Society. It’s a lose lose situation for Gwen. She is fighting a losing battle. On one side she has Miles and the desire to be with him, on the other side the entire Spider-Verse and the conflict with her father. The fact she is even contemplating shows how loyal she is towards Miles.

Miles follows her through the portal and catches her off guard. Gwen didn’t know he was listening and thought she would never see him again. Miles, being in another universe without a dimension watch, glitches and endangers both him and Gwen. Gwen then says that she “never should have visited” Miles.  She obviously meant the fact that NOW Miles is involved and they can’t go back now. She didn’t want Miles to be a part of it and now regrets that she pulled him into this. She is more angry at herself than at Miles here. 

When the canon event approaches Gwen tries to stop Miles from disrupting it. Again, a lose lose situation for Gwen. She knows (or at least thinks at this point) that disrupting canon events can cause universe to unravel. She also knows how dangerous canon events are and that there is a good chance Miles might die if he tries to intervene. 

Miles, not knowing about canon events at all yet, intervenes anyway. (Because he is Spider-Man, duh) While trying to save Captain Singh and the little girl he gets covered by rubble. Gwen and Hobie go down to the scene and while Hobie immediately helps Pav to pull up the bus Gwen literally makes a dash for the rubble and tries to find Miles. All the while screaming his name, her voice breaking while doing so. The relief in her voice when she finds him alive and well is very noticeable. (Great voice acting by Hailee Steinfeld)

After disrupting the canon event, Miles asks Gwen what she thinks of the situation. Gwen, almost affectionately whispering to him, tells him that she always thinks that he is amazing. Another moment that makes these two get closer and it shows how much admiration Gwen has for Miles. Even after disrupting a canon event, Gwen thinks the world of Miles. This highlights her conflict again. While still believing in these canon events, Miles is slowly but surely changing her mind about them. He is not quite there yet but it’s coming.

We then go the Spider-Society HQ where Gwen introduces Miles to Miguel. Miguel immediately becomes hostile and blames Miles for disrupting the canon event. Gwen knows that Miles did in fact disrupt the canon event but still defends him.  “He doesn’t know any better:” Miles has no knowledge about canon events or anything related to it so he can’t be blamed for what he did. Gwen knows that, which is also a reason why she tried to stop him. 

Miles then finds out about the structure of the Spider-Verse and about canon events. Miles also finds out that Gwen did not only try to save him but also stop him from disrupting the canon event. 

When Miles finds out his fathers death is a canon event that has to occur you can see Gwen frowning. She knew this and now Miles knows it.  There is no easy way to tell that to someone. Not if you’re close friends and not if you haven’t seen each other for a year. It pains Gwen that Miles has to go through that, and on top of that she can relate to it as well, because...

... Gwen’s father is also a Captain who’s death is a canon event. This adds another layer to her inner conflict. She believes in these canon events and therefore also believes that her father has to die. Gwen, in that aspect, is similar to Miguel. She accepts it, runs away from it. Similar to how she runs away from the conflict with her father. 

Miles confronts the other Spider’s and tells them he can’t sit back and let his father die. He then tells Gwen, referencing her earlier statement, that she was right and that she never should have visited her. Miles does NOT say that because he hates Gwen. He says that because he is distraught and because of the fact that if Gwen hadn’t shown up he’d still be in his dimension. (Where he wants to be to protect his father) Gwen starts to cry because this is OBVIOUSLY not how she wanted it to go and how she wanted Miles to find out.  The fact is: There was never a right time or way to explain it to Miles. Gwen isn’t an emotionless puppet that never struggles or is perfect. She loves Miles and she simply couldn’t bring it over her heart to tell him that his father will die and that he isn’t supposed to be Spider-Man. She wants him to be happy and to be safe, and from her perspective the best way to do that is to keep him away from the Spider-Society. 

When Miguel traps Miles to stop him from going home Gwen and Peter get really agitated.  “That’s enough.” “Stop it Miguel.” They don’t want to be on opposite sides to Miles. They want to talk it out. Of course the chance for that is now gone. You can still see that both still very much are on “Miles’ side”. Gwen is put into a situation where she is forced to choose between her friend or the Spider-Society. 

While they chase Miles, Jess confronts Gwen and tells her that even though Miles is Gwen’s friend, capturing him is the only way.  Gwen then tells Jess that that’s not what her gut says. This, again, shows her conflict. She KNOWS she is supposed to be on Miles’ side. It’s what her gut is saying. It’s what her heart is saying. Her head is still thinking that the multiverse must be protected, and that canon events must be stopped from being disrupted.

She then listens to her head and tries to grab Miles with her web. The look on her face says it all. It’s pain, love and an apology all in one. Miles destroys the web, symbolic for their trust.  Miles breaks the net, he is saying that he doesn’t trust Gwen anymore.  Gwen knows that, which is why after Miles breaks the net her look is one of complete sadness and disbelief. Not disbelief because she couldn’t imagine Miles not trusting her but rather diesbelief because she can’t believe it has come this far.

She continues the chase for Miles because she doesn’t know what else to do. When Miguel calls for every Spider-Man after they found out Miles’ location you can see Gwen having a look of dread and defeat on her face. She did’t want it to go this far. She still wants to talk it out and make up with him. She feels sorry and is slowly starting to regret her choices. 

While on the train Gwen and Peter keep calling out to Miguel, telling him that he should stop and to take it easy on Miles. Miguel doesn’t listen.

This scene is where the trust between Miles and Gwen is broken completely. Miles finds out that Gwen knew all along that he is an anomoly and that his father is supposed to die. He finds out that Gwen didn’t know how to tell him that and that that’s one of the reasons she didn’t come to visit him. 

Gwen then tells Miles that its for his own good, a lie she told herself to make her feel better. She full on regrets her choices by now. She knows she made a mistake but feels too distraught to really do anything about it. Her world slowly comes crashing down on her.

Miles is able to overpower Miguel and sends him flying down the train. The way Gwen looks down at Miguel is really interesting. Its a look of pride and relief. She is proud of how far Miles has come that he is able to escape from Miguel and reliefed that he was actually able to.

While Gwen thinks that now the way is free for her and Peter to get to Miles and explain everything to him, Miles just gives them a look of hurt, sadness and betrayal. He then says “Goodbye Gwen”, again mirroring Gwen’s goodbye earlier in the movie. Both were sad but for very different reasons.

The change of expression from Gwen says it all.  This goodbye from Miles, in his eyes, is final. He feels betrayed and hurt and just wants to get home to save his dad. While Gwen and Peter probably want to just talk to Miles and explain everything, Miles may think they want to capture him, too. And Miles can’t take that chance.

After Miles decides to jump Gwen, again, has an expression of relief on her face. This time the relief is because Miles managed to really escape Miguel and the other Spiders. She knows Miles will be safe, for now.

Miles manages to escape and Gwen is furious with Miguel. Furious as to how he treated Miles and how he managed the whole ordeal. 

She speaks up and Miguel blames Gwen for the Spider-Society losing Miles.  This is where Gwen starts to see that she actually doesn’t have the Spider-Societies back and that she should have taken Miles’ side from the beginning. She slowly realizes the true extent of her mistake. 

Gwen then proposes to talk it out with Miles, on her own. Miguel refuses, saying they tried that already.

She goes on to tell that Miles is her friend and is starting to question the whole “Canon event” topic. “Do you know for certain what happens when he breaks the Canon?” She is starting to fully side with Miles. 

Miguel tells her he knew from the beginning that her relationship with Miles was a liability. Gwen looks to Jess for support but doesn’t get it. She is now on her own, same as Miles. 

Gwen gets sent to her home universe, the thing she dreaded most. The last thing she tells Miguel is that they are supposed to be the good guys. That shows where she stands in regards to the conflict inside herself. She now knows that what Miguel and the Society does is wrong.  She was on the Society’s side, now she is on Miles’ side. 

She immediately tries to go to Miles’ dimension but she is locked out from using the dimension watch. Miguel denied her access. Gwen is furious and now trapped in her home dimension. 

She returns home and wants to collect the polaroid of her and Miles. She doesn’t want to confront her father yet, but we all knew it was inevitably coming.

Gwen confronts her dad and opens up to him. She pours her heart out and tells him how she really feels.  Remember, Gwen is a 16 year old girl. She carried the burden of her rensponsibility and the conflict inside her while still always trying to do the right thing.  But she says it best in this scene, “She doesn’t know what right or wrong is anymore.” The entire time she believed these canon events to be absolute and followed through with the Spider-Society’s plans because she thought it was the right thing to do.  In the process she hurt and betrayed the only real friend she had. And that was the straw that broke the camels back. Her intentions are now clear.

“I can’t lose one more friend.” She doesn’t know whats right or whats wrong, all she knows is that she can’t lose Miles. 

During her speech her father decides to quit his job as captain, freeing him from the canon event. This is when Gewn realizes that canon events might not be absolute and that they can be disrupted without dooming the dimension. She realizes Miles might have been doing the right thing all along. 

After making up with her dad the only thing left to do for Gwen is to go and find Miles. With the help of Hobie’s watch that is actually possible now.

Gwen arrives in Miles’ universe and finds out that Miles is in the wrong universe. She overhears Rio and Jeff talk about Miles. They mention Miles lighting up when he is around Gwen and that they hope she doesn’t get him hurt. This is where the full realization of her actions become clear to Gwen. She hurt Miles and didn’t help him when he needed her the most, and she hates herself for that.

She blames herself for what happened to Miles, even though it is not her fault entirely. 

Gwen tells Rio and Jeff that she is going to find Miles and bring him back. She also tells them what she learned from Miles. “All is possible.” This is the lesson Miles gives Gwen in this movie. It is a lesson she needed to learn. She now fully believes that anything is possible. This will come into play in Beyond the Spider-Verse when they are going to try and stop canon events from happening. 

She resolves the conflict with her father, parts ways with the Spider-Society and has only one goal left now: To find and make up with Miles. In her arc Gwen faced the conflict of choosing her friend or the greater good. On one hand is Miles, who she obviously has feelings for. On the other hand there is the Spider-Society who tell her how the multiverse works and how dangerous Miles and other anomolies are. In the end, her friend won, though it was a harsh process that damaged their trust and relationship.  Gwen is not perfect and isn’t always right. She is a 16 year old girl with tons of complex conflicts going on. She fights a constant battle with herself and her feelings. She makes mistakes, as do Miles, Peter, Miguel and the others. The important thing is that Gwen learns from these mistakes.  This also shows that she doesn’t hate or not care about Miles like some people have said. If anything her actions show to which lengths she went for Miles to be safe.  She knows she hurt Miles and is going to make up for it in Beyond the Spider-Verse. 

[timbit-robin-art]

i loooove your band au it's so cute!! do they have a band name? why did the O5 have a falling out and what did jean, bobby, and warren play? i'm imagining they get their first gig at harry's hideaway because he graciously allows them to set up in the corner and play as long as they don't bother anyone lol. rogue and gambit both go (rogue drives them and helps them set up, gambit goes to cheer on storm) and that's how they meet

I’m glad people enjoy my silly band idea. I unfortunately have no idea what they would call themselves, but I’m sure some ridiculous ideas were proposed from each member. I’d love to hear ideas.

Ah, the O5… I think they split up because of a combination of reasons. 1.) Worthington Senior urging Warren to return home as Worthington Industries’ heir. 2.) Jean going to a prep school so she can graduate early be the professor’s intern in mutant politics. 3.) Hank’s plans to intern at Stark Industries, which he ultimately doesn’t go through with after he transforms. Of course, there would be petty drama on the side that would further strain things, but those three would probably be the main reasons.

I think Hank looking into Stark Industries would be a big contributor because Bobby would feel betrayed. They promised to stay together, and after Bobby learned about Warren and Jean’s situations, he at least thought that he would have Hank. So, to catch Hank researching about a full time internship would really hurt.

I also think that Warren would initially do everything in his power not to return home until he learns about Jean’s plans. He thinks she’s only doing this because it’s what the professor wants, but then he learns Jean is actually really looking forward to this. I also think he’s bitter about Scott’s encouragement of Jean’s plans, because it’s splitting their group apart. And then when Bobby and Hank finally have their confrontation, he feels like trying to ignore his fate is childish and he should just give in to his father’s plans.

They all used to live at the institute together, but then Warren returned home and Jean is abroad at her prep school. It’s very tense between Scott, Hank, and Bobby, but Scott and Hank eventually making up again probably makes Bobby get over his hurt. He didn’t really take the band as seriously as the others; he just wanted to hang out with his friends. Bobby would later show up to the band’s gigs as support, and who knows… maybe Warren and Jean would, as well.

Scott played the drums, Jean was the pianist, Hank was guitar, Warren was vocals (and maybe another guitar player), and Bobby was bass.

Back to the current band set up, Gambit 100% comes to their performances, which eventually leads him to meet Rogue;

Gambit is already the band’s uncle, so it makes sense that he hits it off with the band’s new aunt. Mr. Logan found Gambit suspicious at first (and to be fair, Mr. Logan is at least 80% sure he saw Gambit pickpocket someone from across the room), but when he sees how much Gambit cares for Storm, he begrudgingly lets go of his suspicions. He still keeps a watchful eye over Gambit and Rogue’s interactions, though. Rogue’s still his child.

Bahhh, so many fun ideas with this. I think it would be really cute if other X-Men are thrown into the mix. They may not be a part of the band, but they still contribute to the chaos of the private school (I think it would be funny if Piotr was an art club member who does art for the band, and Sean was one of their sound crew guys. Any ideas for other X-Men?).

[hypnoneghoul]

absolution live 2017/2023

here I am with my over 1,5k word autistic ramble about the differences between absolution live from 2017 and 2023. at the end there is an audio file of both versions put together, if anyone would be interested in that. it sound very cool heh

also tags for people who showed interest in this: @forest-rot @ghuleh-recs @counting-eyerolls @ngnt-writes @ghnosis @rain-ghoul-appreciator @sister-rosemary-marie

anyway, under the cut

I will start with an analysis of instruments and players separately, one by one, and then I’ll talk about the whole thing a little bit. Also I’m using only ghoul names in there, but when I’m talking about styles and skills I obviously mean the unmasked folks.

Both in 2017 and 2023 we have Mountain on drums, which gives us a very fun comparison opportunity. In 2017 he goes heavy on the cymbals—according to the original version of the song—but it makes the whole thing a bit too crashy and too clogged. The drums are very widely mixed and set—slightly focused on the left side following the stage layout from then—but I think the cymbals could be a bit quieter in comparison to the actual drums, especially the floor tom. In general we can hear how smaller Mountain’s kit was in 2017. In 2023 the entire drum part is sharper and deeper, more bassy and it’s focused more in the middle. The way it feels to me, in 2017 the drums are the background and in 2023 they are the core. Mountain has better fills in 2023, he obviously got more comfortable just jamming in there and having fun over the years.

Dewdrop on bass in 2017; we can hear (or at least I can) that he is not a bassist. He scrapes his pick on the strings a lot which is connected to him being primarily a guitarist—it’s about the picking hand placement and angle. The bass is pretty quiet and it has overdrive on it. It helps conceal his buzzing a little bit, because it happens a fair amount for Dewdrop. Again—bass is not his main instrument. We can also hear exactly when he slams it, like we know he loves doing. In general sometimes he’s quieter and sometimes he’s louder and it’s mostly caused by his picking; how he angles his hand in certain moments and how much strength he puts into it. At the end he goes absolutely feral. Not surprising.

Rain in 2023 is amazing. He’s very skilled, and it’s a huge shame Ghost doesn’t have any songs that could really allow him to show off. He hit his cue a bit too fast at one point, but it might as well be intentional. He’s so much clearer and cleaner, both due to his skills and the settings. Rain has more drop, he most likely has his bass on a different pickup setup than Dewdrop, plus they used different basses—Rain’s with additional mods. One of those mods is a very heavy bridge—Badass Bass—and I bet we can thank that piece for the sustain and note definition in Rain’s playing. In general it flows more, fits into the whole image better. His changes in volume are controlled, not accidental like it happens for Dewdrop. Rain puts more slides, tiny additions and note changes into his live playing, it makes it a bit more lively to me. He’s put perfectly in the middle, nicely blended with the drums.

Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about Ifrit, Dewdrop, Aether and Phantom mainly because “Absolution” isn’t really a guitar focused song and so it isn't the best song to compare guitar skills, either. The most interesting part—guitar wise—is the solo and little fills on the rhythm now and then.

Ifrit is very precise, I couldn’t hear any mistakes from him, but also the lead is surprisingly quiet in general. His palm muting is on spot, pull-offs and hammer-ons both in the chorus and the solo are very clean and he is simply a pro, he’s got super skills and I wish we could’ve gotten more (</3). He makes the whole song as lively as his stage personality, it sounds flowy but packed with emotions and still so precise it hurts.

Dewdrop’s sound is way better, though he and Ifrit are close skill wise. The difference between Hagstrom Fantomen and Fender Stratocaster is a big one, the main aspect that we can hear is the sharpness of the former and more grounded sound of the latter. Those two guitars also have a very different pickup arrangements—Dew’s strat has SSS (3x single-coils) pickups and he uses the bridge one (which is a Seymour Duncan Hot Rail), and the Fantomen’s has HH (two humbuckers that can be slip, but as far as I’m aware no ghoul used that feature), also with the bridge one used more frequently. In “Absolution” Dewdrop doesn’t add very much—as he does to some other songs—so it’s pretty much the same as the original version. There are small differences that inherently come with his style and that is what makes his version differ from both Ifrit’s and the album's, but it’s all very slight. Dew also makes a very good use of his pedals, mainly wah—especially at the end.

Aether is a bit off tempo in some parts. He plays well, mostly clean, but we can pick out some slight mistakes—mostly sounds that aren’t supposed to be there. His palm muting is a bit too light. He goes heavy on the pick which makes his part of the solo a bit sharp (especially that he’s playing the higher harmony) and square-ish. The sharpness is, again, something we can partially blame on the Fantomen. Only partially because both Ifrit and Phantom prove that it’s manageable. 

Phantom is very clean, he adds a lot of slides which is a feature of his personal style. Said style of his is very lively and fun, to me it sounds and feels like a slinky (don’t laugh at me it’s the autism). He’s more fluid both in the solo and the rest of the song than Aether, but makes one—barely noticeable—mistake in the solo where he misses a note.

Also Phantom and Dewdrop in 2023 are more in sync than Aether and Ifrit in 2017. For whatever reason.

Now keyboard; Zephyr goes absolutely ham on the keys, but it is a piano song so that’s not only understandable, but also desirable, I would say. Key’s are in the right ear with slight migration to the middle when it matters, again according to the stage layout. Their precision and speed and overall skill is insane, the ending when they go wild is the most impressive part, because the song itself doesn’t give many opportunities. If you haven’t seen a video of Zephyr playing that ending you gotta do it now because it really is insane (RIP to that Nord Stage 2 though). The synth fill before the solo in 2017 is played back, in 2023 it’s played live by Cirrus.

In 2023 Cirrus plays the main chorus keyboard part, it can be heard easily on the left side (so once again stage layout accordingly). It’s clean and precise, she’s also very skilled, but unfortunately doesn’t really show off at the end like Zephyr does. Cumulus plays some chords before the solo while Cirrus plays the synth fill.

Vocals are not my thing so I’m only going to say what most of us can hear; Terzo is very nasal, but cleaner, and sings a bit higher. Clear pronunciation, good flow. It’s closest to Tobias’ normal singing voice. Copia is even more nasal, more growly and raspy. They’re both, obviously, in the middle in case of mixing.

Backing vocals in 2017 are all play-back for obvious reasons—pretty simple, taken straight off of the album recording. It’s put on the left, but it could be more favorable in the middle. 2023 is way more spectacular thanks to—mainly—the backing vocals. They are 90% Aurora and Cumulus, with lower levels of Cirrus and barely anything of Swiss. He’s louder by the end. I’m still conflicted about the growls—if it is Swiss or Papa’s play-back—but it’s a great addition that was very mild in 2017’s play-back. The backing vocals are on the sides, accordingly to the stage layout. It all just adds more spice, I adore them.

Sound engineering and mixing is so much better in 2023. We can easily tie it to the budget (though I’d like to “blame” it on Hayden’s part in the engineering, he’s a mastermind, too). The sound is much clearer and fluid than in 2017, it highlights all the instruments perfectly at the same time. Mixing in 2017 is more blunt, it’s a bit duller and some changes in volumes and placements of instruments could—or even should—be made. It doesn’t mean 2017 sucks—far from it—it’s just a technical difference which actually warms my heart if we look at how far has Ghost come. So, once again, considering the budget in 2017 vs. 2023 it’s all understandable. Also the crowd sound control in 2023 is very fun; it makes a great use of all the yelling causing the whole song to sound warmer and fuller.

Both 2017 and 2023 are on the exact same tempo, they can be put over each other perfectly (which I did). They slide apart at the end and the break before the outro is longer in 2023. The 2023 outro itself is pretty boring in comparison to 2017, most likely because in 2023 it’s not a closing song. Below there’s both “Absolutions” over each other; 2023 in the left and 2017 in the right headphone.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1])

agatha once again protecting billy with her whole body.

"I didn't think it was real! I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit! That I couldn't save her!"

The poison drips through (yes I love Succession). Generational curse, generational trauma. The pain of who knows how many centuries of parents and grandparents and great-grandparents times a thousand. It's like a boulder that you're carrying around on your shoulders, and you can't see it and you can't put a name to it, how could you? How can you possibly know why your mother drank herself stupid, why your grandmother abused her children? You were born yesterday and drank all that poison without knowing what it was, you let it take it over and you walk around spreading it to the world.

And amidst all the pain, alice only ever chose to blame and hurt herself and she was always gentle to others. her biggest regret is not having been able to save her mom! you know why alice never turned into a villain like agatha? because her mom loved her. as simple and as that. lorna was so ill-equipped to save alice, she didn't know what she was up against, she was in a world of pain herself. and she went above and beyond to show her child how infinitely precious and loved she was.

oh wow, I usually say I'm crying as a figure of speech, but I am crying for real thinking about this.

lilia who has lived so long and experienced her big share of suffering, knowing all too well what alice is going through. there's so much compassion in her voice

jen stubbornly refusing to care about anything but her own pain, which is actually a very human way to respond to trauma? it's like she's at a crossroads and it's up to her to choose whether she goes back to being the force of good she used to be, or whether she goes down agatha's same path. I say it's up to her because it ultimately is, but she was so lucky finding this coven and community at such a crucial moment. agatha didn't have any of it.

no! don't apologize, you beautiful, generous soul! the sense of guilt and inferiority complex is real

agatha's face when billy is attacked

she starts running toward him even before alice

but when she gets there she freezes and lets alice go check on him

when she sees he's fine, she sighs and collapses against the door, clutching her chest.

lilia is really starting to get attached to everyone, and throughout her life love and loss have always been inherently linked. she already knows she's going to lose them.

okay jen refusing to leave the circle is still funny, I'll give her that

through all this rio has been watching and studying agatha, she always does. she knows that her diabolically smart wife loves to be in charge and come up with plans. she's being encouraging!

look at how small alice is! she's been helping and consoling billy just a moment ago, despite being miserable herself.

first of all, that's hilarious, so jot that down. second of all, you know agatha is so relieved she has to put on a show instead of doing something icky like, idk, sitting in a circle and talking about their feelings. and look at rio at the drums, she's already put all the clues together as well

oooh, she's doing the thing! she's detectiving! agatha harkness ladies and gentlemen, her hobbies are women, murder and puzzles.

and who gives her the solution? who has had millennia to study and commiserate human love and grief? she says it and she looks at agatha so pointedly.

The song that's so irrevocably linked to Nicky's memory, the song that she's been desecrating and using as a means to kill. A mother took it and poured all her love into it and made it pure again. Agatha has to live with that now, and you know that's going to take root inside her and affect her no matter what

this whole performance is patti going I might be singing backup again but watch me be a total diva about it

I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

you'd think that alice should sing lead vocals here, seeing as it's her trial and her mom's song and all. WELL THINK AGAIN

the massive ego agatha has, honestly. you gotta respect that.

the feeling when you are the only normal person in a group of total hooligans. did I already say how gorgeous sasheer looks in that outfit? no I didn't. you are an apparition, sasheer.

but I want the song to have its own separate entry so hold on tight, brb

go to episode 4 part 5

[preeningpisces]

pleaaase could we get some more choso stuff? maybe some more nsfw headcanons if you have them or if not then some drabble of him being a Little Freak (endearing)?? anything that you'd feel like tbh <33

Omfg of course!! I actually have a lil fic I’m working on for him rn, so hopefully I won’t take too much longer. Love me some freak Choso. Thank you for taking the time to send this!

Hopefully this isn't too weird, lol

Choso being a lil freak

Content: fingering, masturbation, handjob, mild dacryphilia, ear eating, saliva, use of good boy and baby

18+ content below, mdni, afab!reader, enjoy!

The TV drones in the background as you scroll through your phone, leaning into the arm of the couch. Anxious anticipation rolls off your boyfriend. You don’t have to look to know he’s fidgeting with the blanket, trying his best to focus on the show—an episode of How It’s Made, his favorite. It’s obvious what he wants, it’s what he always wants when you’re around, but he remains bashful nonetheless. Amused, you let him stew in discomfort, wanting to see how long it takes for him to crack.

He adjusts himself and scoots closer to you, in what you think was an attempt at subtly. A smirk threatens to split your mouth, and you can feel your lips wobble from the effort of resisting. What was once fiddling with the blanket becomes a bouncing leg, drumming fingers, and more frequent glances. Laughter presses against the seam of your lips when he sighs, but you keep it at bay. You’re as focused on your phone as he is on the TV; his energy is contagious and makes your desire spark. But right now, you just want to antagonize him.

Sex is a recent development in your relationship, and ever since you gave Choso the keys to the kingdom, he wants it all the time. Not that you mind. Introducing your boyfriend to sex in all its forms has been fun, to say the least. This isn’t cruelty: you’re just building his confidence to initiate, you tell yourself. Not two minutes later, he says your name in question. Innocently, you set your phone aside, giving him your full attention.

“Do you…?”

“Do I what, Choso?” It’s clear he didn’t anticipate any pushback, because looks ready to retreat.

“Can we?” His stare is intense and imploring as he rests a hand on your knee.

“Oh, I don’t know, this article is pretty interesting” — a lie. When he deflates with puppy eyes, you feel too guilty to not throw him a bone. “But I could be persuaded.” Confusion flits over his face; he really does need everything laid out for him, doesn’t he? “I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing, unless something more tempting comes along,” you say, and with no further explanation, return to your scrolling. You know this worked even though he hasn’t moved, because he’s wringing his hands and mulling over his next step.

Maybe you are cruel. Just a bit.

An unsure arm winds around your hip, and pulls you away from the armrest to sit upright. With a delicate press to your jaw, he turns your head to kiss him, but you pull back.

“Ah, ah—you can’t turn me away or block the screen.” Now understanding the game, he nods with wide eyes. “Good boy.” Excited, he sits right next to you, but doesn’t remove his hold on your hip. Hesitant kisses tickle your jaw and neck—more endearing than distracting. The complete lack of reaction prompts Choso to trail from your jaw to your chest, and cup your right breast.

A post makes you laugh, and you feel him bristle beside you. Riled up, he squeezes your breast harder than you thought he would, and goes for your nipple. Choso absolutely loves your breasts, it’s no shock he sought them out first. What is shocking is how aggressively he’s touching them. Normally, his touch is irreverent and pleading. A weak pinch makes you flinch, but you keep your focus.

“Is that okay?” 

“All I said is you can’t turn me or block the screen,” you say vaguely, allowing his imagination to fill in the rest. A sharp pinch is his reply, making you gasp. Tentative kisses are forgotten as he breathes into your ear, now more focused on the weight in his hand. Wearing no bra, there’s only a thin t-shirt between you and his fondling; rolling your nipple around and tugging it occasionally. As if just remembering he has one, he mouths at your jaw, and gently nips at your ear. The sweet attention makes you hum, your eyes hooded as you lazily continue scrolling, barely paying attention to what you see.

Suddenly, the kisses stop, and his hold on you relaxes. You fight the urge to look at him. Is this his way of playing, or is something wrong? Before you can ask, his lips rest at your ear, barely touching. Anticipation stills your shoulders, and you stare at the screen blankly as you wait for him to do something. Those lips press against your ear, and stop, gauging your reaction. When there is none, he kisses your ear fully, gently.

You expect him to move on, but one kiss becomes two, then three, then doesn’t stop at all; his head angles, and his kiss becomes more passionate, fully making out with your ear now. It tingles, and despite your bewilderment, you let out a breathy whine. Emboldened, he introduces his tongue, which licks at the planes and ridges. Cheeks hot and appalled, you shriek his name—he squeezes your hip so hard it could bruise.

Normally, he would release you and frantically make sure you’re alright, but your taunting must have affected him more than expected.The odd sensation makes you squirm, but you stubbornly grip your phone, and don’t turn to him. This only cues him to pull at your nipple with a twist, making you arch and moan.

He’s quick to move on; his hand dips under the waistband of your sweats, then your panties, and wastes no time rubbing soft circles around your clit. As if touching your pussy wasn’t enough, his tongue dips into your ear’s canal, making you nearly drop your phone. It doesn’t go far, but enough that it’s oddly sensitive. Sounds cut in and out, like you’ve dived into a pool and swam back up. Embarrassingly, you feel yourself throb.

“You’re really wet,” Choso says, and immediately returns to assaulting your ear. His bluntness only makes you more mortified, and the nerves in your neck and jaw prickle. The attentive circles are consistent, and keep a steady pace, which only drives you crazy, noises spilling from you freely. With his mouth covering your ear, you can’t tell how loud you are—every sound you make blares internally, as if you’re listening to yourself through earbuds. Your sounds arouse more of his own, overwhelming your mind. You can’t even hear the TV anymore, or the sticky sounds you know your pussy is making.

So enwrapped in pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed Choso was humping the air, his moans somehow both stifled and amplified. Unable to resist, you toss your phone and cup his bulge, letting him grind into your hand. Abandoning your hip, he helps you slide his sweats and boxers down his hips, cock twitching with need once it's exposed to the cool air. You wrap you hand around his cock and stroke him making his legs tremble. The hand previously on your hip winds back around you to continue stroking your clit, while the other slides two fingers in your needy cunt. 

“Oh, fuck–oh fuck,” you belt, grinding against his hands, helping him find your g-spot. When he grazes it, you shout his name, and he strokes it with every thrust of his fingers. “Yes, baby, just like that.”

The steady pace fumbles when you spit in your palm and continue stroking him. He chokes on a gasp and sucks the shell of your ear in his mouth; it’s the most you’ve been able to hear since he began, but the leftover saliva prevents you from hearing clearly. You twist slightly as you stroke upward, squeezing near his head. Even with the lingering saliva, you’re finally blessed with the wet sounds of his cock and your pussy.

“Please—ah—please cum,” his high-pitched and needy voice doesn’t match the way he roughly fingerfucks your pussy, stretching it with spread fingers and pushing your hood back to attack your clit. Overwhelmed, you shiver as you approach your release; it isn’t until he resumes his lip lock with your ear and tongues at the canal that you come with a keen. “T-that’s it, you look so pretty when you c-cum.”

Your body locks up as your stomach twists from the convulsions, and your pussy clenches around him nonstop, but he doesn’t let up until you still. He covers your limp hand with his own, and he pumps his cock furiously, chasing his end. Gripping one of his buns, you smash your lips together. Distantly, you expected a waxy taste, but were relieved to find none. Tongues graze, drool pools, and he makes debauched sounds when you pinch his tongue between your fingers.

“Are you gonna cum?” You pull his tongue tauntingly and squeeze around his cock. When he nods instead of answering, you pinch it harder, and his cheeks go redder than you’ve ever seen them.

“Yeth, I’-I-” he lets out long, continuous whimpers as he comes. Sensitive, he removes his hand, but you grip his wrist and make him stroke himself through it, thick cum leaking over your joined hands. Tears and drool roll down his face, but you keep stroking his cock with a sickening squelch. 

It’s only when he stops leaking cum that you release him, soothing him with kisses to his wet cheek before fetching the nearby water. The two of you lay against each other, now winded.

“I’m just going to address the elephant in the room: why did you stick your tongue in my ear?”

“You wouldn’t let me kiss you,” he shrugs, as if it was obvious. “I’m glad you liked it, though.”

“I did not!”

“Okay, if saying that makes you feel be-” you smother him with a throw pillow. 

Next time, you’ll think twice before giving Choso the reins to do whatever he wants. 

[mingtinysworld]

hi! how are you? hope you are doing well!

i wanted to request san's reaction to y/n wearing a dress as it summer and she is hot so he is in wow seeing her beautiful legs and then things just escalate to the bedroom

hope i ain't asking for much would mean alot if you write it ^^

Hi darling! Sorry this took me a while to get to! I’m doing good! I hope you’re doing fantastic<3

I LOVE this idea so much. I think San would totally be that guy to love sundresses and legs hehe. Thank you for requesting! I hope I did it justice;)

Green grapes

Pairing: Choi San x fem!reader Word count: 1.2k Warnings: MDNI, oral (f receiving), fingering, protected sex Networks: @newworldnet

“San! Can you bring the napkins and forks please?”

San shuts the car door and wobbles toward you where you’re laying on the spread out blanket. You two decided to have a picnic since it was such a beautiful day, sun shining bright and the birds singing loudly. You make room for San as he shimmies his way to you, laying on his stomach. You run a hand through his blonde strands, earning a pleased grunt.

“Ahhhh” San opens his mouth and looks at you expectantly. “Feed me.”

You grin lopsidedly as you feed him a green grape. He chews gratefully, closing his eyes to savor the flavor. While his eyes are closed you take the opportunity to shove two more grapes into his mouth, and his eyes shoot open sending you a glare.

“Do you want me to choke?” He speaks through a pout. He throws a grape at you in retaliation while you just cackle. He resigns back to his napping position, resting his eyes. You look at him with adoration and pat his head affectionately.

San sighs and turns to his side facing you. As he takes in your appearance, he notices the sundress you’re wearing. A very light, pretty floral material covers your smooth skin, leaving your tan legs exposed. His eyes focus on the slit, his brain painting the picture as he goes higher.

You notice his line of sight and you blush slightly. You fidget your fingers and move the dress so that it covers your legs, resulting in San snapping out of his daydream. He looks at you and you notice the change in his eyes, showing you how needy he is. He bites his lip lightly, clearly sending you a message.

“Your damn legs,” he whispers reverently. “What do you think of heading back home?”

“I would love nothing more.” You boop his nose and he wastes no time jumping to his feet, whisper yelling a “YES”. He quickly gathers all the picnic materials and runs to the car, almost slipping on some gravel. You can’t help but laugh at his eagerness, shaking your head in fondness.

As soon as you both get seated and buckled San takes off like a rocket. “San, you’re gonna get us killed, slow down.” You clutch your seatbelt in pure terror as San doesn’t let up on the gas.

He turns to you and blinks blankly. “Baby, I’m about to get drunk on pussy, and you want me to slow down?” He sounds so genuinely upset that you burst out laughing. You cover your mouth to not aggravate him further and he just huffs out in frustration, the annoying traffic making San drum his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently.

Finally, after a grueling 10 minutes he pulls into the driveway. He turns the engine off and runs over to let you out of your seat. He picks you up like you weigh nothing and you let out a squeal of surprise, kicking your feet in the air.

He carries you into the bedroom and sets you down on the soft bed. You reach up to remove your dress but he stops you with a gentle touch to your wrist.

“Leave it on. You look too delicious to take it off.” He confesses. Your cheeks redden as he hungrily takes off your panties and tosses them aside. He lifts up your dress, resting it on your stomach. He gets comfortable against the bed and lifts your legs to fit around his shoulders. He takes a few seconds to just look at your dripping core and you fidget from the fixed attention.

“Stop staringgg San, it’s embarrassing.” You whine.

“Baby there’s nothing embarrassing. You’re about to be my best meal ever.” As he finishes his sentence he dives in.

He attaches his tongue onto your cunt and uses all the force of his tongue to drive you to the brink. He uses wide strokes to lap up your wetness. You let out a strangled cry as he suckles on your clit, leaving trails of saliva and your own slick. He plunges his tongue into your hole and you buck up your hips, clenching around him in desperation.

He swirls his tongue around, and adds in a finger, adding on to the stimulation. You let out a drawn out whine from the speed of his finger along with his skillful tongue. You grind against his face as he adds a second finger, stretching you out in a pleasurable way. San looks up for a second and his face is completely covered in your essence, coating the tip of his nose like it’s highlighter.

“Oh god, I just can’t get enough of you.” He growls against your skin and goes back to his passion project. You can feel your climax approaching and you get even louder, signaling to San that you’re about to cum. As the knot almost releases, San stops everything. He goes totally still, ripping away your orgasm brutally. You whine pathetically and buck your hips in an attempt to get friction.

Before you can whine any more, San slips on a condom and rubs your thighs soothingly to remind you of his presence. He plunges into you in one go and you gasp at the sensation. He drives his hips back and forth at a rapid pace while loud smacks can be heard echoing around the room.

You slap a hand over your mouth to conceal your noises, but San will not have any of that. He rips your hand away and gives you a pointed look. He continues to thrust into you, creating rings of cream around his cock. His neck and face are covered in sweat, droplets falling one by one, making a little stream down his built shoulders. He grits his teeth in determination and gives you all he’s got.

His pace increases even more and you can feel the satisfying knot tightening once again. He starts gasping lightly and you can tell he’s so close to the edge so you assist him by intentionally clenching and he lets out a hiss at that.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.” San’s chest heaves up and down as he empties into the latex, bringing you to your climax as well. Your body convulses as you cum with a shuddering breath. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably while San is tying the filled condom. He throws it away and comes to plop down next to you, caging you in with his arm.

“So much for that picnic,” you say with an airy chuckle. “But this was definitely worth it.” You give him a soft smile and he smiles back, rubbing your shoulder lightly. Your head feels fuzzy after the intense orgasm and you close your eyes in exhaustion. San leans in closer and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, his breath tickling your face.

“Wasn’t this so much better than those green grapes?” He asks with a satisfied tone. You roll your eyes playfully and punch his chest lightly.

“They were pretty yummy and crunchy, I’m not gonna lie.” He raises an eyebrow at that and moves even closer.

“So I’m competing with grapes? Really?” He asks with narrowed eyes.

“No no, don’t worry San, I’ll always love you more than green grapes.” You assure him.

“So…round two?”

[the-possum-writes]

I loved the fire fin stuff you wrote, Can you write more headcannons about him and the reader trying to keep finn distracted while also trying to turn him back, pls

Subdue the Flame

➼Character: Fire Finn (Finn Mertens)

➼Tags (warnings): headcanons, canon typical violence, gender neutral reader, mentions of servitude, sloppy kisses, misogynistic comments

➼Synopsis: Fire Finn headcanons about distracting him in a fight during the Elemental special.

➼With the fire citizens heading for the Candy Kingdom it's up to you and Lsp to try and de-escalate the situation, mainly with you trying to defeat Flame Princess's newest champion while Lsp retrieves the jewel from Princess Bubblegum.

➼"Are you sure you can handle him? I mean he already beat you once, it’s like a more intense version of Finn... It’s lumpin hot." Lsp mutters as the two of you scout the area.

"Yeah, we just gotta improvise a bit. At least knock him off his sense until I use my secret weapon and defeat his hot headed butt for good!"

"You sound way too eager about this. But no dude you got it all wrong! the real Finn is still in there somewhere you just gotta play into his hero heart ya know? pull one of those 'I know the real you is in there somewhere' kind of speech."

It's hard not to roll your eyes at Lsp's dramatics, but if she's trying to tell you to solve things pacifically first, then sure why not. Like don’t get me wrong, of course saving Finn is a priority but knowing this prick fire version of him, it’s gonna take more than heartily speeches to subdue him.

"By all means, be my guest."

➼It goes as expected, Fire Finn just walks past her spewing something about war drums and threatens to slice her down if she tries to stop him. This is where you come in.

➼You're the only one who can confront Fire Finn either cause you're physically strong enough to match him in a fight or you have the mental fortitude to deal with the stuff he'll say in hopes of saving him.

➼Like, the guy was pulled in and created in a toxic and violent environment so that leads me to believe he's bound to say some hurtful things and make fun of you with low hanging fruit. For example, if you're a gal (or female presenting) he'll spew some misogynic comments about how he's biologically stronger "You don't stand a chance against me, I'm all hardcore muscle." or "You'll regret leaving your sewing room this morning."

➼If not, he'll still boast about how he's stronger than you and will wipe your face on the dirt.

➼Uses insults too. Mainly stuff like: nerd, loser, mouth breather, girlie, wimp, roach, useless scum, motherless bastard, to think of a few.

➼I don't know if he'll fight honorably (since the other fighters have kinda roman gladiator inspired designs) or fight dirty, but now that I think about it he'll most likely do the latter. He'll kick you in the shins and throw sand at your eyes, that's how he gets the upper hand when fighting you.

➼Dominant, ruthless and a huge show off. Overtime he gets too cocky.

"You're too much of a wimp, I bet I can beat you with nothing but my hands."

➼To mock you further he kicks away your bag and your main weapon but not without stabbing his own sword into the ground before approaching you with cracked knuckles, wrestling you into the ground as he continues to belittle you- albeit with suggestive undertones. "Once we're done with these candy nerds they'll be nothing left but cinders and ash. Maybe then I'll take you back to the fire kingdom as my personal training dummy... All for myself~"

➼You don't know if you're reading too much into this whole fight, but It's now that the physical contact makes sense. He tightens his hold on you, purposely grabbing you where you're most sensitive (that would make you blush any other day) before tossing you around like a sack of potatoes, the pain is real but it started giving you an idea.

➼If there's one mistake he's actively making it's that he's completely underestimated you and your brain power that compensates your lack of extra brawn to beat him on a one on one.

➼"Oh woo is me, you're obviously the better opponent. Might as well start getting used to serving you as you deserve." you cry out, causing Fire Finn to quirk a nonexistent eyebrow. He grips your hair by the back of your head, purposely raising you to his eye level.

➼"And how would you start serving me?" He asks, suspicious of your change of attitude but quickly allured by the promise of servitude.

➼You momentarily lick your lips, it's subtle but hypes you up for what's to come. "Like this," and you lean forward to kiss the fire elemental on the lips completely unprompted. It's a risky move, and considering Fire Finn isn't returning the kiss you're 90% certain that he's gonna slap or throw you away but the second you attempt to remove yourself from him he instead tightens his hold on your hair and pushes you back into his eager mouth, opening it up as his tongue dwells all around yours in unexpected wanton. You try your best to reprocitate but he's completely controlling in this situation as well, now holding your face with both hands as he gives you the sloppiest kiss you've ever had.

➼Underestimating how sharp his teeth are, you cut your tongue on it and has you groaning at the unpleasant metallic taste in your mouth, fidgeting in the spot as you try to pull yourself from his hold but it only served to rile him up further, running his tongue over the wound.

He eventually pulls you away to catch his breath, completely devouring your breaths as you exhale to take in the fresh air.

➼His reaction is more enthusiastic than you expected. In fact it's his crazed expression that ultimately snapped you out of your foggy daze, immediately taking advantage of his unguarded walls and you kick him where he counts.

➼Now he's the one falling like a sack of potatoes.

➼You suddenly rush to your discarded backpack as you hear him shout angrily behind you.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT! I WILL MAKE IT TORTUROUS FOR YOU! I WON'T REMOVE MY HANDS FROM YOU UNTIL YOUR WAILING AND BEGGING FOR RELEASE BY THE TIP OF MY SWORD!"

➼There's no time to ponder what kind of punishment he's talking about since he's immediately back on his feet and just a few steps away from you, but the second you grab your hidden weapon it's over for this fire elemental. You pull out a plastic water gun and spray it all over Fire Finn, watching him shout in agony as he steps back as you blast him into submission until he lays beaten on the ground. "This is why you need a safe word my dude." You finally spew a well deserved taunt.

➼And to make matters worse and more humiliating for the fire kin, you snap a fireproof collar around his neck, courtesy of Wizard Betty.

"What is this contraption?!"

"It's a little something from a friend, a temporary solution until we find out how to turn you back to normal."

➼With a sigh, you sit back as you watch the fallen warrior attempt to rip out the collar only for it's safety mechanism to activate and spray him with cool water, like one of those automatic car window things.

"I DEMAND YOU RELEASE ME!!"

"You're not in a spot to make demands my dude, so unless you wanna turn into a popsicle you'll have to follow me." You eventually stand up with a more nonchalant attitude compared to earlier, still wincing a bit since your safety now doesn't take away that Fire Finn pulled a heavy number on you.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" He threatens, but the collar activated again before he could lay his blue hands on your neck.

"Maybe, if you say please~?"

"DIE!"

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow x gn reader

Obvious

Based off of this cut song from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. This one goes out to all my people who can never tell weather or not somebody likes them. I feel your pain.

-Enjoy

The cool autumn breeze danced throughout the trail turning the summer heat into a distant memory. The air was fresh and smelled of dead leaves and pine. The park was quiet everyone opting to stay inside and shelter themselves from the cold, every one but you and your friend.

Leaves crunched underneath your boots as you made your way to your destination. You were running late as per usual but you had a good excuse this time, honestly. This past week has been rough on both of you and you both deserved a treat.

It took a while to convince the barista that you were not in fact crazy for ordering coffee beans and boiling water separate. what was his business questioning you anyway, it's not like he's getting paid to care.

Admittedly you thought it was weird at first too but as you got to know him you understood that's just a part of who he is. There were a lot of things that Shadow did that could be considered unorthodox but one of the things you admired most about him is that he didn't seem to care about what other people thought of him. He marched to the beat of his own drum and if others didn't like it that was their problem.

Thoughts of Shadow warmed you as you walked, they were doing a much better job than your coat was at the moment. You cursed yourself for losing your hat and scarf right before the cold hit for the third year in a row. Hopefully your coffee would warm you up but you refused to drink it before meeting up with Shadow, it would be rude to show up late and to enjoy your treat before he even knew about it, besides it wasn't too long until you reached your usual meeting place anyway, you could hold off for a few more minutes.

You and Shadow had been meeting at the same bench every Saturday morning for the past year or so. It started out as a simple coincidence but as you two started running into each other more and more you both grew to expect each other eventually just making plans to meet up at the same place and time every week.

All you would do is walk around the park and talk about anything really, your interests, your life, problems that either of you were facing. There wasn't anything that either of you couldn't discuss with one another. He had opened himself up to you and that wasn't something that you took lightly. You knew about his past, his struggles with his identity, you saw it all and you loved him for it, even the parts of him he couldn't love himself. You wouldn't change a single thing about him for the world. You hoped one day he could see it too.

You had fallen for the dark hedgehog despite his rough edges and tough exterior. There was so much more to him than just that he was sweet, and considerate, and cared so much not just about you but also about his other friends too. None of this he could know of course, you didn't want to risk losing your friendship with him, he was too special to you. You couldn't handle it if he rejected you, and besides it would ruin the best part of your week.

So you were content with how things were, this way you could keep Shadow in your life. You just had to ignore the beating of your heart every time he made eye contact, and not to think too much about your hands brushing together as you walked, and not to fall into ecstasy every time you heard his voice speak your name. It was easy. (You're delusional)

Before you knew it you had reached your destination. Shadow was already there and waiting with his usual pout.

"you're late."

"Yes, but I brought you something, I heard you had a rough week so I brought you your favorite. Ta da!" You presented him with the small bag of roasted coffee beans and the steaming water.

He grinned as he took the items from you the tips of his gloved fingers making contact with yours, thank goodness it was cold out otherwise you would have to come up with a good reason for the deep blush on your face.

"you look cold, did you loose your scarf again?"

"I swear I put it in my closet I really do but when I went to grab it, it was gone, I have no Idea where it disappeared to."

"well lucky for you, I brought a surprise for you too, try not to lose this one too soon." He said teasing you. Holding out a small bag.

Smiling you took the bag and opened it's contents. A beautiful scarf that had been lovingly knitted in your favorite color with silver stars embroidered on the edges and a matching hat to boot.

"Oh Shadow, this is beautiful, thank you so much, I love it!" (And I love you!)

"you're welcome, now put them on before you get too cold. I don't want you getting sick in this weather."

He was so thoughtful.

You quickly wrapped the scarf around your neck it's yarn instantly warming you. You smiled leaning into it's warmth. You then started to put the hat on, a bit of a struggle without a mirror to get your ears through the holes on top.

"here let me help you" Shadow said before taking the hat from your hands, gingerly placing it on your head, and guiding your ears to their rightful destinations. His eyes gleaming in the daylight focused completely on his task thankfully not noticing that you're completely flustered by the closeness. His face inches from your's his lips pressed together, how you longed for their touch. You'd bet they were soft as pillows and as warm as freshly baked cookies.

"there we go all done, how do you feel?" He said snapping you back into reality.

"oh, uh warm, thanks... for the hat and the help."

"Of course, we should get going."

"right, let's go." You said smiling, following him down your usual path.

You two continued on talking about your weeks, your small business had been struggling for a little while and a rough interaction with a client had left you wondering weather or not you should call it quits.

"Don't give up Y/N, I've seen your work, with a talent like your's it would be cruel to the world and yourself to quit." He reassured you. "Don't be afraid of failing, learn from it and keep going."

Shadow had a rough week as well, a mission had gone awry and the aftermath had been catastrophic.

"Nobody was hurt too bad but it never should have happened in the first place, our team should have been more careful. It's times like these that make me wonder if I'm doing this right if I'm protecting the world the way it needs to be, the way she would want me to. I spend all my time trying to bring peace to the world she never got to see, sometimes I wonder if it is even possible."

"You're doing your best Shadow, any one can see that. the world has a lot of problems, it's going to take a long time, and a lot of people to get there. You need to remember to take help when you need it, you're not alone anymore you have Rouge, and Omega, and me. I can't break into secret facilities, and my fighting skills leave something to be desired but I'm always here to lend an ear whatever you need."

Shadow paused for a moment. He turned to you, looked directly in your eyes, and finally spoke.

"Thank you Y/N, I know I don't say things like this very often, but you have been a good friend to me and I rather enjoy your presence. I look forward to our meetings every week and I hope we can continue them for as long as possible."

Your heart fluttered so much so you were worried that he would be able to hear it. From where he stood. His eyes were focused on you looking like embers in a campfire plucking your heartstrings. Keep breathing you had to tell yourself. He's just saying he enjoys your friendship, don't look too much into it.

Smiling and returning the eye contact you finally responded.

"I would very much enjoy that Shado-"

The next thing you knew Shadow was pulling you into a kiss. His lips were tender against yours, the heat from his hot water coffee bean mix seeping from his mouth into your body making you feel as if it were 100 degrees outside, he tasted like coffee and cinnamon the scent of lavender invading your nose.

You were too shocked to kiss back, or even notice that Shadow had slipped his hand into yours.

You pulled back gasping from shock. Trying to rapidly wrap your head around the situation before it was too late.

"I'm sorry." Shadow said loosing his grip on your hand " I thought maybe you... never mind I should g-"

"WAIT!" You shouted tightening your hand around his. You didn't have a plan for what you were going to say but you figured you needed to say something and fast before you lost your chance.

"Don't apologize for doing that, ever. I just wasn't expecting it. I didn't know you felt that way."

"How could you not I thought I was being so obvious. I even asked Amy for advice on what I should do to let you know."

Shadow was in love with you. He had been from the very beginning. All the times you had been dismissing as him as being just a friend he was trying to gain your affection. You weren't delusional, somebody as wonderful as him had feelings for someone like you and you completely missed the signs.

Looking back the signs were so completely obvious, all the small details about your life that he memorized, the small gifts every now and again, the fact that he waited for you every week despite the fact that you were almost always late, hell he was the one who suggested you two meet every week in the first place. The puzzle pieces clicked together all at once.

"You mean this whole time you- you really liked me?" You asked tears of joy forming in your eyes

"Yes, I'll admit it took me a while to realize that I did but I do. I care for you Y/N. I've never felt like this before. No matter what I do I can't seem to get you out of my head, and if you would let me I would like to take you out on a date."

Words could not express how much joy you felt in that moment so instead of answering you simply returned the kiss you pulled away from earlier.

Your lips collided once again and this time you leaned in savoring the kiss you had been craving for so long, leaves fell all around you two as your lips intertwined in a passionate whirlwind. Shadow pulling you into a tight embrace. You two only parting in order to catch your breath.

"So then I'll pick you up tonight for dinner"

"It's a date" you said before pulling him back in for another kiss.

You felt yourself smiling into his lips as he kissed you back the two of you enjoying your private moment . Sharing a kiss with the one person you could talk to about anything. it was better than anything either of you could have ever dreamed of.