#personally i need both of them to do some more singing For Real

[grapefruitey]

Dave assumed it would be inappropriate to say ‘whew, good’ to a pretty girl declining a hug. But shit he was glad. He wasn’t a hugger. Still feeling like his limbs weren’t properly attached after puberty meant that Dave didn’t think he moved well. Sure he could load a shotgun blindfolded and take down a moving target provided it was shouting profanities at him. But a comforting hug? Where the other person would feel the thrum of tension that was constantly running under his skin? Where they could feel how scared he was based on the rigidity of his muscles? Absolutely not.

He happily surrendered the cigarette and shrugged at her reaction. “I really don’t think most people want to be special. It really fucking sucks to be special, actually.” In all ways. Having the psychic-like abilities that he now did was unsurprisingly terrible. Being known by intergalactic cosmic horrors was an inconvenience to say the least. He was special all right and if he didn’t already know what was waiting for him on the other side, he’d end it right there and save his energy.

“Yeah, could be. But more likely, you were just there.” That was the curse of tragedy. Victims so rarely chose to go down the roads that led them to experience the darkest side of life. Dave couldn’t say that people were fully blameless for their actions and repercussions. The whole reason he had to deal with unexplainable eldritch horrors was because he had loved and trusted his best friend. And when John showed up at 4am needing help with a small glass bottle containing two more strange black pills, Dave had given him a hug and let him inside. “It’s uh, more about the metaphor I guess. Than if you were actually being bullied.”

Dave couldn’t bring himself to speak further until there was some sort of alcohol in his system. He pulled open the door for her when they got to the bar. Another pang of sadness struck him as he ordered a double shot of whiskey. If John were there, he’d have ordered them both the most ridiculous fruity item possible, flirting with the bartender to entertain them as they made something elaborate. By the end of it, John would likely have gotten everyone in the bar singing some bad 80s ballad and no one could remember their problems. But he was dead and Dave was doing all he could to keep his muscles working.

As soon as the majority of his drink was gone, Dave cleared his throat. “So I was bullied.” Was there a less obvious statement he could have made? “For uh, well, most of school. Up to middle school. Real shitty. One day they went too far though and something in me snapped. It had been great for them. They got something to take their anger out on because their lives sucked fucking much that they could look at this little kid with his dead parents and thrifted clothes and say that he isn’t human, he isn’t like them. They can break this creatures fucking bones because it makes them feel better about getting hit by their parents.”

He let out a long exhale then drained the rest of his drink and signaled for a refill. Dave didn’t look at her throughout his speech. He couldn’t. How could someone like her understand? “The thing haunting you is just like them. Just like those assholes that tortured me until I fought back hard enough and blinded one of them.” And if only that was his biggest regret. If only Dave wasn’t still proud. “I’m just here to try to teach you how to fight back in a way that your bully understands. Because you’re not just a sad kid to them, you’re barely an ant.”

“or five.” ingrid mouthed to herself, nodding shallowly. she had never been a drinker in her normal life, not unless there was something to celebrate like a birthday party or promotion. relying on alcohol when she was emotionally distraught reminded her too much of her father, an aging gen x-er that spent most of his days drinking beer on his recliner and watching old music videos on youtube. despite how much she loved him, she viewed her father as a loser. (well, better a loser than a stuck-up bitch like how she viewed her mother.) maybe that was why this was happening to her—not honoring her mother and father, or whatever the commandment was. up until a few months ago, ingrid never thought much about religion beyond celebrating christmas and constantly taking god’s name in vain. maybe she should reconsider that.

now nicotine was something ingrid did indulge in when emotionally distraught, though she’d swear up and down that she wasn’t a smoker. she just had to smoke at least two cigarettes a day or else she’d feel like shit. the more the entity fucked with her, the more she reached for a cigarette, then moved onto vapes so she wouldn’t stink up her apartment and lose her security deposit—if the entity’s fuckery wouldn’t make her lose it anyway. the second part of his offer made her brow arch. she looked down at his hands, considering how they’d look holding her. touching her all over. in any other circumstances, she probably would enjoy it. maybe even try to encourage him to make a move; men loved crying girls, didn’t they? getting to play the savior, making ingrid turn her frown upside down. probably made them feel special or some shit, but dave clearly wasn’t a typical man. “i’ll take one.” ingrid took one out of the pack and produced her own lighter out of her purse, inhaling deeply as the flame caught on the end of the cigarette. “jeez, dave. way to make a girl feel special.” she remarked, blowing smoke out of her nostrils.

“bar’s fine. one with lots of people, preferably.” the entity never ceased with its taunting of her, but it seemed a little less eager in public. slightly less. she wiped away the tears that collected underneath her eyes, easing into the feeling of the nicotine settling her nerves. “a stranger would be preferable to what’s hiding in my house.” ingrid commented quietly as they began to walk together. she looked away, a tiny bit ashamed when he brought up bullies. “i—uh—was pretty well-liked in school, actually.” part of the popular crowd, but known as the nice one among them. really, she was just a prude. seventeen year old ingrid would be horrified to see her smoking. the poor naïve girl, ingrid really missed being her. “guess it was just delayed until now.” and when the universe came to collect, boy, did it fucking collect.

[breadboylovin]

so graydon mentioned doing a cover of wagon wheel on the yard episode and i couldnt tell if he was being serious but someone on the subreddit found it. graydon nation how are we feeling

[carpesabrina]

She smiled as he talked about his own childhood video, just confirming what she already knew. He didn’t care what anyone thought about it, he liked it and it was part of him. “I do like it. I thought it was a cute video of you,” she told him. She had seen it before they became official. He had told her about it when hey were just talking, and she jumped at the first chance to go watch it. She nodded in agreement. “I don’t care what anyone says about my work, especially my more recent stuff. My old Disney albums? I don’t claim any of that.” She joked. She never talked about her first three albums, and she stopped singing the songs off of it. But she had made it clear that she didn’t claim any of them. But it was mainly because she had no creative decisions when it came those. Everything had to be confirmed by the record label she had at that time. But now, she had more choices and made sure to use her voice for what she wanted things to be with her newer work. She knew some of her team didn’t approve of it, like when she brought up the most recent album cover idea she had. But she didn’t listen to them and did it anyway. She knew Max pulling her hair for a picture would get everyone and their mother’s talking about it and keep her name out there. “No pushovers in our family. They’ll be able to say no when they need to, and fight when someone won’t listen to them.” She said softly, a smile curling along her features. “Me either. It’s gonna feel so much more real this time than what I remember from Vegas. Everyone celebrating our love with us and partying it up.” She teased the partying. But knowing her family, that’s exactly what will end up happening. 

She turned her head to look up at him as he spoke. Her brow arching at him. “I do not have more than 400 friends, Maxwell.” She laughed. She knew she had more friends than he did, she was definitely more of the social butterfly than him. But a lot of them were more acquaintances than anything else. She wanted her close friends and family there. A long with some of the people she worked with and admired. But she didn’t want to invite every single person that she knew. “But it will be more than big enough.” She confirmed, squeezing his hand. As he said that he loved it, she thought she almost had him convinced to have the wedding in New York, and then he brought up Pennsylvania. She nodded in agreement, “we can look there too.” And then she turned to face the director as she started talking again. “We have the finest culinary here. Exquisite seasonal menus. Prior to your wedding day, we’d invite you to sample and pick out your menu for your big day.” She stated as she walked through the room. “And then we do have dressing rooms for you to get ready in.” She said and then brought them back out to the hall, she opened up a different door and it was a room with seating, a mirror, and other things. “They all pretty much look like this. We strive to make every event momentous, so we’ll work with you to to design each detail to your liking. From the meal, drinks, to decorations. If you need to move things around or take stuff out of the ceremony room that you don’t like.” She told the couple. She told them to call when they want to book with them before she walked them back to the front entry. Sabrina said goodbye and then turned to face Max. “I do like it. But I also don’t want to just pick the first one we look at. It’s like buying a house, gotta look at all the possibilities. There could be a more beautiful one out there.” She told him as she walked back out to the car. Once they were in, she put the second place into the GPS. “This place is called the Larkfield.” She said getting out of the car once they were there. She walked with him into the building, going to the front desk. “Hi, I’m Sabrina. Called earlier about a tour.” The lady nodded and stood up, shaking both of their hands. “I’m Kelly. Nice to meet you.” She said before moving around from he desk. It was all the same questions like earlier, if they wanted to look inside or outside. And When Sabrina said inside, they were brought to one of the ball rooms. "We have four ballrooms. Some are bigger than others. This is our biggest one. It fits up to 400, but can fit up to 475 if we take out the dance floor." Sabrina instantly shook her head, "no. We need a dance floor." She let out a laugh. She wasn't gonna have a wedding where they couldn't dance the night away with her friends and family. "Each ballroom comes with bridal suites for the bride and groom to get ready in, a long with an assistant to keep the day easy for you." Kelly stated as she motioned them to follow her. She took them through the other three ballrooms that got smaller each time they walked through the doors. One had more white to it, and then the third one had a citrus tree in it. When they got to the smallest one, she told the couple it only fit 100 people. "Oh, I'd much prefer one of the bigger ones." Even if they had 100 or less guest at the wedding, she liked the space everyone would have with it. It wouldn't feel like everyone was on top of each other. "Do they all have dance floors?" Sabrina asked. "No, just the first two that you saw. This one and the one with the citrus tree do not."

Max shrugged at her question but it was easy to answer. "Do I like it or want to scrub it? I like it and think I'm a cute little devil. Who knew those two cuties would hook up later in life and be planning a wedding. If anyone doesn't like it then they can suck my dick. I didn't do it for anyone but me and I still feel the same. It's what I think that matters. I mean love you and my family but if you didn't like it then it wouldn't matter because I do. I'm sure you feel the same about things you do that you like and people disagree with." Max never tried to shackle Sabrina on her creativity and that was probably one of the reasons they worked so well. Both were stubborn, sure of what they wanted and didn't like to be told what to do when it came to work. There were a few times she cared too much but she was getting out of that and Max liked to think he was a part of that. Helping her see that others opinions didn't matter and to be true to herself. "Same, my parents are dying for grandbabies to spoil." Nodding he looked at her. "Yes, kind but not pushovers. I'll teach them both how to fight and they'll kick those kids asses." He was sure their kids would be short, maybe not as short as Sab but short. He didn't mention his ADD because he didn't like to think about her. Hopefully her genes would cancel his out. "I can't wait to see you walking towards me for real this time." Sure Vegas felt real but this would truly be real. "All our family and friends, us all dressed up and committing ourselves to each other. Our only wedding, as it should be. For better or worse, in sickness or in health forever. " He didn't like to think about till death them part. No way was he leaving her alone and he didn't want to think about a life without her. He made that clear with his worry about the pregnancy that could have taken her from him. Max loved to drive but even more drive her around. She always looked happy and he knew she felt how much he loved her with the simpliest of things. She never took any of it for granted just like he didn't.

As they pulled into the venue, he was already falling in love with the place. He didn't want to just pick the first place they saw but it looked to have everything although he did have one concern. Sabrina had a lot of friends and he didn't know if it would fit them all or if she was going to be selective on who she invited. He leaned over whispering to her. "is that big enough? I don't plan to invite that many people but I know you have a lot of friends." Max was simple, family and a few friends, again not the most social guy but Sab had lots of friends. "I love it and think this could be it if it's big enough" It sounded like he was definitely thinking New York now so it quickly backtracked. "We still need to look in Pennsylvania for you just to be sure." He was glad the employees weren't making a big deal over them... okay her. He had accepted that she was the star of the family and that was fine by him. She never made him feel less than her and he was proud to be her man. "Do you like it?"

[loviestar58]

💚~Ekko bf/general HC's Pt 2~💚

I had thought of more Hc's for Ekko and y'all seemed to enjoy the last one (more than I thought, honestly-) so I thought why not share more of them?

So here's some more of our favorite time boy!

Enjoy‼️💖

⏳~He definitely has a small collection of bonnets that he's either stolen, found, or had a fellow Firelight make for himself. He can make his own as well, but with limited sewing supplies, it's hard to do so. He started off just using any random piece of fabric he could find

⏳~He let's you help him with his retwists when it's the inevitable time to do them. If you don't know how to do retwists, he'll happily teach you, taking you step by step on what to do and what not to do, being very patient with you cause he knows it can seem like a lot to some people

⏳~Building off the last one, I do think he may be a bit tender headed. Not too bad, but if you do pull his hair a bit too hard when doing his retwists, he will groan in pain and squirm. He makes sure you don't feel bad about it though, unless you're doing it on purpose, then he'll keep squirming and trying to get you to stop all while feigning anger. He'd definitely get you back for that

⏳~Can blush really easily and gets bashful/flustered easily as well. If you start to make moves on him, he will be caught off guard. He's never had much experience in romance or these feelings, so he doesn't really know how to act on them, at least at the start of a relationship. He'd get more confident as time goes on, but that doesn't mean he still won't blush at a sudden flirtatious comment or sudden PDA he wasn't expecting, especially in public

⏳~Personally, I don't believe he's the jealous type. He may get a bit annoyed that you're spending less time with him and more with others, but it's not because he's jealous, he just likes spending time with you and having you near him. He'd be very confident in your relationship and bond, and would trust you wholeheartedly, letting you be your own person and go and do whatever you want.

⏳~He's not controlling at all, since he's all about freedom, he trusts you to take care of yourself and again, be your own person. That doesn't mean he isn't protective of you. He'll always be there to help and defend you if you need it, but only when he sees you're really struggling. He's especially protective on missions, always keeping an eye on you or having a buddy with you so your safety is more assured, but it's not overbearing

⏳~I firmly believe that Ekko loves to dance as evidenced by S2Ep7. I think he's more into interpretive dance or just following the beat of the music, following the music's lead. If you two dance together it'd be very much like that episode, or it could be more chaotic and you two will rule the dance floor with both of your sick moves. I also think he'd be really really good at breakdancing, have you seen how agile he is?

⏳~One of his favorite past times if it isn't a busy day at the base is to hang out with the kids. He'd play games with them, tell them stories from books or make up his own, and absolutely have hover board races with them (which you would join in on sometimes)

⏳~He can sing. Don't even try to tell me he can't. He would have a real smooth voice able to harmonize easily with people. If you can sing, better believe you two would be duetting often at random points when you're together. He would adore your voice. Even if you can't sing, he'd appreciate your humming with him. Puts the kids to sleep with his voice sometimes, especially if they have nightmares

⏳~Speaking of nightmares, he definitely has those way fairly often. Can you blame him? After thinking he lost everyone he loved, and believing it was his fault for years, it'd take it's toll. He'll toss and turn and even mumble in his sleep on rare occasions before he'd shoot up in bed, clutching his chest. Sometimes he'd yell out a name or a command to stop when he wakes up, which would wake you up if you're next to him. Comfort him, hug him close to you and whisper reassurances, he'll relax in no time. If it's a particularly bad nightmare, he'll stay up and try to do some work to distract himself, unable (or afraid) to go back to sleep.

Some of these I had to do research on, mostly for the hair ones, as I am not black and didn't want to get some things wrong with how his hair would be taken care of. If I missed something or got something wrong, please let me know!🙏🏼

Hope y'all enjoyed!💖

[werepuppy-steve]

don't look at the timezones too closely, the idea of eddie on tour and leaving steve voicemails to wake up to in the morning was too cute to pass up ao3 link

"steeeeeve harrington."

eddie's sleepy voice rumbles away in steve's ear. there's no one else around so steve doesn't bother to hide his grin as he snuggles further under the blankets.

eddie chuckles, breathy and giddy, like he's telling a private joke. "good morning, sweetheart. well, morning for you. sun won't be up here for another–" there's a pause, then a shuffle, and steve can picture eddie rolling over in his hotel bed to look at the alarm clock even though he could just look at his phone, "–five hours, christ alive."

steve's grin turns gooey when eddie lets out a loud yawn into the receiver. he hears the sheets shifting and he has to reel his mind back in from the gutter.

"the boys say i'm stupid for leaving you all these voicemails," eddie tells him once he's comfortable. steve pictures them both laying the same way, facing each other. "they call me whipped every time i pick up my phone, but guess what, stevie?"

he pauses, like he's waiting for an answer.

steve can't help but to whisper back, "what, eds?" into the quiet of their bedroom.

"i miss you so much, sweetheart."

steve feels his heart jump to his throat so suddenly that he almost chokes on it. butterflies erupt in his belly and he can feel himself blushing. his lips wobble with the attempt to not make some embarrassing expression, even though he's the only one in the room.

it's been over a month since they've seen each other in person. photos of their teary eyed send off were still making the rounds on twitter and instagram—steve tucked into eddie's side at the check-in counter with their hands in each other's back pockets, them waiting in line at one of the airport restaurants because the flight was delayed so they had another two hour wait time. the fan video of them making out in a hidden alcove away from the band.

there's been facetime calls, but it doesn't replace the longing need to have eddie physically with him. to kiss him. to hold him. to bury his face in his neck and never let go.

"i don't think i tell you that enough, when i leave," eddie continues, his voice still soft and gravelly from lack of sleep and singing for three hours straight. "but i do. i'm so used to you being the first thing i see when i wake up that i get sad when i open my eyes and you're not beside me."

steve grips the blankets and lets out a pathetic whine, his chest tight.

"i miss holding your hand, i miss being able to kiss you, i miss hearing your laugh and seeing your smile." eddie sighs, deep and sorrowful, and it breaks steve's heart.

he wants to take his love's face in his hands and kiss him until he no longer sounds so sad.

"just fourteen hundred more hours and i'll have you back in my arms. call me after you listen to this, okay? i love you so much."

the voicemail ends and steve sits up, his bedhead wild and unruly. he taps out a message to chrissy asking for the next available flight they could put him on and sighs in relief when she says they can fly him out tomorrow night at the earliest.

mentally going over everything he needs to pack, steve falls back down onto the bed while his phone rings out on speaker.

"hey, babydoll."

at the sound of his boyfriend's voice in real time, a calmness washes over steve as he sinks back into the pillows.

"hi, baby. i got your message."

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

[keypaa]

Astrology Observations No.6

with lovely @sc0rpi0suntaurusm00n

Saggittarius suns, moons and mercurys don't have a social filter, they say what everybody is afraid to say blunt af. Jupiter the optimist makes them confident to say what they mean, feel or think (Sun,Moon,Mercury)

If you have venus in tense aspects with neptune you need to do a reality check of your relationships now and then, because sometimes you will put the people around you on a pedestal and other times you will dislike people because they don't fit into your picture perfect fantasy anymore. Just needs some work.(Neptune is like a siren that wants to sell you a fantasy that isn't there, and when you follow her whistles she gets you. Venus energy wants to receive, get loved and share love. So combining these two energies in a tense aspect like a square or opposition gets messy)

Saturn square north node + the south node are generational breakers. Their upbringing was hard and truly intense

Scorpio mercurys don't mind sounding too direct they will ask you anything if they want to know the answer. Oh I saw that you talked about me on a tuesday girls night with ... around midnight, why did you do this...¿😆

Capricorn suns please let us know how to help you. You go through traumatic sh*t, and after all that you stay humble and act like nothing happened

Jupiter aspecting neptune in a positive way love to create art (all forms of art), it makes them genuinely happy ^^ Neptune has to do with artsy stuff, singing, imagination jupiter expends this energy

Mars in leo want to achieve something (whatever it is) The ego is also ruled by leo, so leo placements feel worthy if they achieve something for themselfes

Pure devine love is something that pisces venuses and moons are capable of giving to human 🫘 But they will also text or call you multiple times if you don't answer (Especially Pisces suns with a pisces venus)

You just want to listen to people who have scorpio mercurys, they always have something interesting to say...They know the secret spots, newest updates overall everything that is hidden honestly

Taurus moons have the ability to become real successful and are some of the warmest people if they let you in :) They like to be confortable and also give this energy out to their beloved ones

Mars in aquarius are known to behave different than the rest of their peers. Nothing that is bad, we need more people who think outside the box and follow different life tracks

If you have your moon (square,opposition) your venus list of your emotional needs and your definition of love and find a solution to combine both, if you not want to hurt the people around you regarding showing them your feelings. Due to this conflict of wanting to show love and not being able to express your feelings as you would like to this technique could possibly help you (:

Taurus venus attract love easily (best example: Ariana Grande MASTER MANIFASTOR)

Leo moons love receiving princess treatment and they know how to get it aswell ;)👑 They are LOUD with their wants and needs

Gemini moons get borderline crazy in their love reationships. One day they LOVE the other they despise you and the cycle begins again (also if you have a gemini venus)

Leo placements are either one of the most timid people you will ever meet or they

want all attention on them

Why did I meet a whole lot of taurus sun boys that struggle with finding real genuine love

Mars in sagittarius are se*ually free people. They like going after their needs and what they feel free to do

Sun (trine,conjunct,sextile) jupiter are confident at their core or they come off as such. It gives the personality an optimistic vibe

Venus in virgo are the most devoted lovers on the world, they will not forget your anniversary (and get real mad if you do), take care of you, pay attention to your dislikes & likes

If you have sun in scorpio degrees your real personality is so hidden from the public. Everybody is going to want to figure out who you are only to discover a new personality trait of yours every now and then

Virgo man get the ick real quick. Why do they hate on women without a reason, boy get that frustration out in a healthy way

Aquarius placements may feel excluded from groups a whole lot but later in their life they find their people and have a good amount of friends around them. Also people who start trends and influence a whole generation (XxxTentacion, Paris Hilton,...)

@sc0rpi0suntaurusm00n part:

Pisces moon - these are the folks who you see drawing in a corner or reading an interesting book, whether it is mixed with fire or air there will always be an ethereal Aura or a mystery to these natives 🫶

Cancer moon - shy individuals quite often. Not ones to initiate contact but definitely enjoys some attention to their needs. Cares about their mother or maternal figure quite deeply. Often times these individuals have a significant relationship with the mother which is part of who they are, single mother raised is quite common and adoption is likely as well from what I have seen. There may also be a misogynistic type in lower vibration natives from what i have seen

Capricorn moon - they may seem like the mysterious yet charismatic type but deep down there is a lot under the surface. These natives being cardinal signs, they can relax into something and then when you least expect it their passion and drive is unstoppable. You never know when they're tumultuous emotional life might break through the surface and send them blazing toward a new goal.

Taurus moon - (I am biased as a Taurus moon myself lol🫣)they may have a soft spot for comfort and stability, and typically the pinnacle of finance, care, and stability (although when mixed with sag it may be expressed quite unconventionally) Taurus moon natives are the least likely to make plans and change them due to "not feeling like it" if they are going to do it, they will. Taurus moons are always sharing their food OR they will never let you touch it - no in- between lol😭

Aquarius sun - Aquarius is very different, what I notice in common is the respect for difference. Often these signs are good with computers lol (maybe just because I have 3rd house aqua). The Aquarius man can be so caring or they can be cold, but they have a soft spot always -whether it is a quirky girl or a Quirky interest. These are often the people who want to be first to do something- the trendsetters... Although some can just be quite on top of trends-i have never seen an Aquarius who wasn't ahead of their pears in something whether fashion electronics or anything new.

Scorpio moon - one of my personal favorites💕, but I'm so biased lol(Scorpio stellium🤫) although these natives are known for having rough lives which is true, these peeps are totally down for a trauma dump sesh, or just a really good rant when you are their close friend. The female Scorpio moons are often friends with more females- might be gay even but too stubborn to act on it. There is always something interesting going on in their emotional world. Either the purest virgin or somewhere between that and a man eater... Scorpio moons do not play around, they are often no bs types whether mixed with air or fire -except for Libra placements sometimes if undeveloped.

Aries moons - omg 🤍 y'all are so passionate with your emotions, like if you are mad you can have a hard time hiding it, but yall are just made to be a ball of passion. There is nothing you do that you do not put your whole heart into, if you don't have your heart in it you won't do it. You can set boundaries a little too rough sometimes for us water signs, but it's okay because you are baddies and need that extra space for chasing passions. PLuS You are always loyal anyways so we don't mind. Aries moon has a really hard time holding a grudge against people, because y'all just want to live and let live. Amazing peoples! especially the girlies whom I have met. The lower vibrations can be super flirty and super flighty tho🫠

Pisces and Aries are actually a really great duo, despite what the horoscope things so often say - pisces and Aries are the most common duo i see i believe this is due to the fact that pisces is at the end of the zodiac and Aries is new to the cycle. Its like opposites but they are also alike which is perfect for a friendship.

Unlike me, a scorpio, since i don't often have libra best friends although libras fall into my 11th house - might be due to my lilith placement being in libra as well...😭

Virgo mercury can be so intentional with their words, and this mixed with virgo mars can make for a really sharp mind but also sharp words in an argument.

- That is part of what makes cancer (sun/moon) and virgo moon a good pair in a relationship, because cancer (sun/moon) is very emotionally intelligent and virgo moon is often good at compartmentalizing emotions and rationally dealing with emotions, and often times cancer (sun/moon) need to learn to balance emotions with reason

Moon quincunx to Mars or mars square moon aspects may cause anger issues in men, specifically cancer moon Sagittarius Mars or Aries Mars. As well as Aquarius moon with Virgo mars.

Pisces placements remind me of the most beautiful expression of emotions. The positive expression of pisces placements can be expressing deep and dark emotions through arts, music, love, and things that are beautiful expressions of feelings. Some pisces placements are old souls having to go through rough experiences in childhood, like experiencing many be lifetimes in one life, it reminds me of what I believe mMitski said best 'I was so young when I behaved 25'

April Mercury Rx in Aries!? Was I the only one or no? - there were so many fights and arguments...as well as exes coming back 🫣 like as a scorpio mercury rx it wasn't that crazy for me but my friends had their exes come back into their lives and there was even a small fight which is very mars..

_______________________________________________

If you would like you can join my spiritual family glad to have you here, and never back down never WhAaAT! Keep your hopes in life up always¡ :)

Luvv muah

555

7:25 PM

© 2024 the content is subject to the copyright and responsibility of the author

[slxtarchive]

❛❛𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞?❜❜ — 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐦’ 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

ᥫ᭡ … chris was never afraid to show you affection in public. no matter what anyone thought he loved being up close and personal with you. he needed to be touching you at all times. his brothers teased him about it but he didn’t care.

you and him were at a party hosted by one of la’s known influencers. you had arrived and been with each other the whole time. he would talk with some friends and mutual but he still stayed right by your side refusing to leave you.

one of your favorite songs came on while you two were just enjoying each other company. “oh shit this is the song that played on our first date remember? when we were driving on sunset? you were rapping the lyrics very sexily.” you tugged on his shirt.

he looked down at you nodding. “oh yeah… i remember tjay.” he agreed with a big smile resting on his face. “c’mon sing it with me.” he said setting his cup on a nearby table.

the dance floor was already a bit crowded but not too bad to where you both couldn’t move freely. he grabbed a hold of your hips nodding his head to the song as more people joined the dance floor.

he smiled looking at you as he said the lyrics. “who is he?” he mouthed, shrugging. “motherfucker i’m him.” you laughed at him nodding to the music as well.

the beat dropped and everyone was belting out the lyrics. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder pointing in the air as he rapped the lyrics along with the crowd. everyone in the room went wild as did you two.

he hugged you and sang with you, both of you just vibing. “whos gonna give you lovin’ the same as this?” he looked down at you practically serenading you. “a-game girl, girl i bring that shit.” his facial expressions on point.

his hands gripped yours turning you around and hugging you from the back as he belted out the lyrics. “he been real every since, i know you been tense. i know we ain’t had a conversation in a minute.” he then turned you back around grabbing your shoulders, then face, then waist bringing you closer to him. “but you know what they say, if it ain’t broken don’t fix it. its clearly not broken, it’s just so unfinished. i feel like my new bitch was just your apprentice and we just got into it, here comes the ending.” he rapped smiling down at you.

you wore a huge smile as you could barely hear his voice over the loud base and noise of the crowd — but he continued. “you said this shit would happen girl, that was your prediction.” he kissed your lips once. “said i’d never find no one like you and i shoulda listened.” and again. “who you fucking with now, is that any of my business?” and one last time. “whoever it is may not be finished.” he sung with his eyes closed theatrically.

“but—” he licked his bottom lip and began to sing the chorus again. “already got someone that’s what you tell em’ every time.”

he held onto your waist with one hand singing along with the crowd. his hand up in the air going along with the rhythm pointing out. then, a more relaxed part came in and he serenaded you once again. “i hope you still feel the same way. don’t say the same shit to me, you’ll never change. oh yeah.” he sang. “i said it once girl, you so fine! can we do it like old times?” he brought you closer inches away from you singing the rest of the verse. “ayy thinking shit like who’s out there fucking you? and who’s keepin’ you comfortable?”

the whole crowd hummed along to the music before singing out. “did i make you fall in love again or nah?” he smiled down at you. he sang along with the singer, how they hummed and harmonized.

they all waited until the beat dropped again. “i’m so different. nothin’ like them other—” they sang out, the volume increasing since everyone seemed to know this part cause of its popularity. chris looked down at you again, “you so different. nothin’ like them other bitches. nothin’ like them other bitches. nothin’ like them others bitches, true.” he kissed your lips softly before finishing the song.

everyone cheered and went along with the next song that played. you giggled at what just happened. “you’re so cute.” you shouted over the music.

he blushed looking away and shaking his head before looking back at you. “not as cute as you, baby.” he said grabbing your face and bringing your lips to his. it started of slow and continued increasing with passion.

you pulled away giggling as he tried to connect your lips again. “stoppp.” you cheekily squealed with a smile on your lips. “everyone’s gonna stare!”

he brought you back in hands on your waist. “don’t care.” he muttered against your lips before connecting them once more and stronger this time sliding his tongue in your mouth slowly. your back arched as he towered over you dominating your mouth.

you two made out for a good minute before pulling away. you felt hot and dizzy. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” he muttered against your lips pecking them one more time.

you gulped harshly, feeling yourself become a little needy. “wanna go home now.” you whispered hoarsely in his ear.

“fuck— me too.”

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[meet-me-backstage]

༺ 🐑 ༻

𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ☼ Rancher!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ☼ You, a headstrong—bubbly ranch-hand, form a close bond with the reserved ranch-owner, Joel Miller, through two seasons of hard work, warmth, and unspoken longing. You leave to chase your dream, but circumstance brings Joel back into your life. A storm rolls over your land, something between you stirs—unresolved and waiting to burst.

𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ☼ a no outbreak au loosely inspired by Far From The Madding Crowd but it’s set in modern day/Texas, rancher!Joel (🥵), protective!Joel, grumpy x sunshine, bad language, light angst, mention of vomit & there’s blood after an incident with a hammer, age gap (reader is in her 20s & Joel is in his 50s), kinda slowburny, unresolved feelings (until they aren’t hehe), yearrrrrning and SMUUUUT so you must be 18+ to read this story‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ☼ 7.2K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ☼ bad language, smutty thoughtssss on paper (🤭), light angst, alleged ghosting (letter edition), unresolved feelings, allusion to a pet’s death, yearning n jealousy.

A/N: The letters in this part include crossed out parts like this… they are what both reader and Joel wrote but crossed out so the other couldn’t see!!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 ‘𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨’ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞



‘Joel,

You’ll never believe it — I made it. The ranch is mine. Mine for real. My name’s on the papers and the land — the mailbox out front too. I know you probably figured I would, after how much I ran my mouth about it, but I still wanted to tell you. You were the first person I wanted to tell.

It’s not much — two of the greenest pastures I’ve ever seen, a beat-up old house with shutters and a wraparound porch just like yours… and a barn that leans a little too much when the wind kicks up. It’s a fixer upper but it’s all I ever dreamed of, Joel.

Juno’s already taken to the place like she was born here. She chases butterflies and herds the chickens (she thinks they’ll respond the same as sheep. Spoiler: they don’t). Makes me laugh every day. She’s exactly like her pa — too clever for her own good, and loyal as anything. Looks exactly like George when he was a pup with the one floppy ear. I think she misses you both.

Think I do too.

I hope you and George are well (and lake Isabella! Oh and Clint — the sheep too! How could I forget them!)

Anyway, the chicken coop needs fixing so I’d better stop writing and start working.

— Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Sunshine (guess that name’s sticking),

Got your letter. I know you said you would write. Still — I didn’t expect it.

Thought you might have already forgotten about me.

Glad to know you made it safe, and that the land’s everything you were hoping for. Sounds like you’re keeping real busy—which don’t surprise me none.

Had to laugh a little at the image of Juno herding the chickens. I can just picture it. Bet she’s still got that same stubborn streak as you too — don’t give up easy.

Things here are alright. Same as usual. Lake Isabella’s been running lower than I’d like — think she’s missing you. But I manage. Sheep are still ornery as hell, and old George sleeps more than he works these days. Can’t say I blame him.

I won’t lie—it’s quieter around here. Bit too quiet, some days. Not used to missing the sound of someone yapping at me while I work, but here I am fixing my damn radio just to find one of them tunes you would sing to Dixie. I’ve been trying to get my pa’s old radio working — was just about to give it a go but your letter came and now I know no fucking Sabrina Carpenter or John Denver song is gonna make me miss you less finally.

Hope your land keeps thriving. You deserve that. You deserve your dream, darling — keep chasing it.

— Joel’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

Built the first proper fence today, all on my own. Got blisters all over my palms, and I cursed loud enough to wake the whole county. But I did it. Dixie nearly chewed through the rope post again, Juno dug up one of my tomato plants, and the hens laid eggs in the hayloft instead of the coop... I'm figuring it out.

Speaking of the coop — I fixed it. Took me the better part of a week and two splinters I'm still digging out of my fingers, but the hens are roosting proper now. There's one that reminds me of you—serious little thing, always standing off to the side like she's making sure everyone else is behaving. I named her Judith, but I'm tempted to rename her Joel.

The evenings are the hardest part. Everything goes still out here when the sun dips behind the ridge and work is done for the day. It's quiet in the way that makes you think too much. I sit on the porch with Juno at my feet (she's getting so big already), and I keep expecting to hear your boots on the porch boards.

I wonder what you’re up to all the time.

Sometimes I wonder what you're up to—whether you're still waking up before dawn, still arguing with George over who gets to herd the sheep. I hope things are good. I hope your fences are holding up better than mine.

Did you get that radio working?

I got one for my porch.

Do you turn yours on just to fill in the silence too? What about when you miss hearing my voice? If you do miss my voice. It’s what I do when I miss hearing yours.

They’re fiddly things aren’t they?

Juno sends her love (in slobber, mostly).

— your Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Sunshine,

Read your letter four two times, then once more just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

I let out a real belly laugh when I read about that hen of yours. Haven’t laughed like that in a long while. Not since you were here, trying to chase that lamb into the barn. You ended up flat on your ass in the mud and pretended it was “international land awareness”. George side-eyed me like I’d lost my damn mind. Think maybe I have.

He misses you. Whines more than usual, always wants to take the long trail past the lake like he's expecting you to be there, splashing about or sitting on that rock and tossing pebbles. He barks for you outside your cabin every morning, thinking you're needing a wake up call. Every time the mail comes, he runs out to the box — he knows it's from you — no one bothers to write me as often as you do. Don't know if that means something — if I mean something to you. I'm in my damn head too much. Clearly. He brings the envelopes to me like they’re some kind of treasure. I keep them like they are. They've gotta be some of the most precious things I own.

Radio’s working again. Took some fiddling alright, but I got it. Picks up this one station late at night — plays old country, mostly. There’s a hum it makes, right before the music kicks in. Caught me off guard the first time. Thought maybe you were there, talking soft about nothing and everything like you used to. Funny what your mind does when the silence is just… empty. Used to like it. I don’t anymore. I hate it.

Juno sounds hellbent on undoing half your work, but I can’t say I’m surprised. She really has got your stubborn streak. You’re fighting tooth and nail out there, and I got no doubt you’ll make something special of that land. You always had a way of making things grow, even when they didn’t want to.

Stay safe. Don’t forget to eat. Do you miss those dinner’s with me out on the porch? I miss making them for you.

— Joel’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

Damn you for reminding me of that day. I still remember how smug you looked when you wrangled that lamb in like it was no big deal while I sat there soaked and sulking — still yelling like I had any pride left to salvage.

Tell George I miss him too. Just picturing him waiting by the mailbox like that… Joel, you’re gonna make me cry and I can’t afford to cry around the livestock. They’ll start expecting gourmet meals if they sense weakness. I hope you’ve been taking him down the trail still — even if I’m not there to cannonball in the lake with him.

There’s a river that runs right through the pastures — Juno loves it. She’d love lake Isabella more.

I finally got the irrigation system working with a little help from the guy at the feed store who I think was more interested in flirting than fixing, but hey, we got water. The sheep are healthy. Juno’s learning so fast — I think she’s as good at herding as George already. When she’s working the field, I catch myself thinking how proud George would be of her... and how proud you’d be if you saw me now.

I finished fixing the entire fence line myself today. Took me nearly all day — pounding in posts, pulling wire — maybe I did cuss at the sun a few times but neither of my pinkies were harmed, I promise.

Write back as soon as you get this when you can.

(Ps. Judith is nesting in my toolbox now)

— Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Sunshine,

I told George. I think he got the gist. He wagged his tail, ran three laps around the barn, and then sat by the trailhead looking ready to bolt the second I unlatched the gate. Took him down there yesterday. Water’s cold as usual, but he went in anyway. I ain’t been in the mood to swim — afraid I’ll catch myself thinking too hard about the water glinting off your skin, the sunlight on your cheeks, that pretty laugh and those perfect tits of yours that day you got me in the water. Me and Clint watched George from the shore. Didn’t help. I fell asleep after a while with my hat over my face and dreamed about you just laying right next to me anyway. Maybe spreading those thighs and getting a taste of you out in the open… right by the lake. Fuck.

Can’t say the old dog misses you any less — can’t say this old cowboy does neither — as the season’s pass. When your letter came, he carried it inside himself. Dropped it right on the porch, then stared at me as if to say: ‘well, read it, dumbass’. I did. I kept re-reading it — twenty-four times don’t know how many times, enough to make me think I already replied. That’s why it’s taken me a while to write this. Sorry, darling.

If I was standing in that pasture with you, watching Juno run and you fixing fences like it was nothing, I’d tell you plain — I’m proud as hell.

Keep writing if you’ve got the time. I’ll be waiting George’ll be waiting either way.

(Ps. Who’s this feed store guy you mentioned? Is it Troy? Please say it ain’t Troy. That boy’s way too good looking for his own good and he knows it. Way to sound like a jealous asshole Is Judith still Queen of your toolbox?)

— Joel’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

Just when I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me the mailman delivered your letter. Think I gave the poor man a heart attack by the way I squealed when I saw your handwriting.

Is everything okay?

Are you okay?

If George keeps bringing my letters in like that, I might have to send him a treat basket full of bacon.

I think about that day at the lake too — all the time think it’s still my favorite memory with you of last summer. It’s also still the only way I can get off at night. Remembering how you looked, sunburned and dripping wet, hands running through your hair — wonder what they’d feel like touching all over me instead. What the fuck. He doesn’t need to know that. The pebbles under the water looked like old coins — I remember making a wish. I wish you’d kissed me. Woulda topped that day off with a cherry on top if you did it came true.

Things are coming along just fine… would you believe it if I told you the house is finally finished? Took every spare hour I had, but the porch is steady, the roof doesn’t leak, and I even got all the trim painted before the snow came in. Most days I walk through the rooms barefoot just to feel the floorboards under me, to remind myself I did all this from the ground up with my own two hands (well, kinda). I ran into some trouble with the water pressure in the kitchen sink — was gonna ask you if you could help but you’re so far away, too far away… and you’re always so busy Troy turned up in the nick of time.

He’s around a lot — the feed store guy who flirted more than he fixed? Turns out he’s not so bad with a wrench. He helped with the last stretch of plumbing, and now he keeps showing up with little things he swears the place “needs” — a bird feeder, a coat hook shaped like a horse head, a pie from his aunt. I’m starting to think he might have a crush on me.

Anyway — onto the last building job on my list; the barn. Wish me luck (I’m gonna need it).

(Ps. Judith’s got her own roost now. Top shelf of the tool shed. She’s got better real estate than I do.)

— Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Sunshine,

Now — don't go threatening my dog with bacon baskets unless you're ready to follow through. He's already spoiled as sin.

Your letters are about the only thing I look forward to these days. Was that too much? Fuck it. I’m leaving it in. I don’t reckon I’ll ever forget the way your handwriting looks — I’ll never forget you neither no matter how long it’s been. I sat with your last letter for a while before opening it. Just… held it. You ever get that way? With my letters maybe? Like if you open it too fast it’ll slip right through your fingers? Like when you slipped through mine the day you left.

Been a rough couple months. The Ranch is hanging on by a thread this Spring. Drought’s hitting hard, grass won’t grow right, and the fence line’s falling faster than I can patch it. Feels like I’m trying to hold the place together with both hands and nothing to show for it but blisters and another night of not sleeping. Ain’t nothing I can’t handle.

George — he’s slowing down. Took him near fifteen minutes to get up the back steps yesterday. His eyes are bright, but he don’t play like he used to. He’s slacking at herding too — lost a couple sheep just the other day cause he couldn’t hear me calling and his sight ain’t as good as it was. But he perks up when I say your name — or “bacon” (if that ain’t selective hearing I don’t know what is). Still whines at the trailhead by the lake. Still waits on your letters like a lovesick pup too.

As for me — I’m falling apart fine keeping busy. Fixed the barn door last week and got the south field tilled as best I could — my back’s begging me for mercy. You don’t gotta worry about me though.

You do gotta worry about this Troy fella. I remember him. The one with the shiny truck and the big mouth. He still got that slicked back hair? He’s a fucking asshole Can’t say I like him all that much — can’t say I blame him for being sweet on you neither. Maybe he sees what I should’ve held onto tighter. I don’t like the sound of him hanging around. A man brings gifts like that, it ain’t cause the house needs a coat hook. He’s trying to put down roots in something you built from scratch. I know I ain’t got a say but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about knocking on that feed store door and letting him know he oughta tread real careful. Just… don’t let someone sweet-talk you into settling for something smaller than you deserve. You built that house. You’re building that life. You don’t need someone coasting on your hard work like it’s his own. I mean it.

Keep going. That barn’s gonna stand tall, just like the rest of what you built. If you get stuck or need someone to scare off Troy… well. You know who to call (not fucking Troy. Anyone but fucking Troy). I might not have much left here, but I still got that hammer and two good hands.

(Ps. Can’t quite make out what your wish was. Next time don’t cross it out so I can make it come true… if it ain’t too late.)

(Pps. Plenty of things I wish I’d done to you that day.)

— Joel’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

I hope Georgie is feeling better after feasting on the bacon from the treat basket I sent. Did you get the Polaroid of me and Juno? Did you recognize her? I can’t believe she’s almost one already. Did you get the one of the house too? The land? The sheep? Dixie? Oh, and Judith in her toolshed condo? I tucked them all into the side so they wouldn’t fall out.

I didn’t write back right away. I pressed your letter flat against my chest and held it there a while — giggling like I was sixteen again. I figured I should cool off before saying something I couldn’t take back — but you and I both know I was never any good at keeping my mouth shut.

Your letter — what you wrote about Troy — I heard it loud and clear. I ain't letting him lay claim. Not now. Not ever. This place is mine. My blood's in the soil, my sweat's in every wall. And my heart... well. That’s with you That's another story.

You said you couldn’t make out what I’d written in that last letter. The part I crossed out. You always said I was braver than I gave myself credit for. So here goes I guess:

I wished you’d kissed me in the lake.

When I was wet-haired and laughing you looked at me like I was some answer you’d been waiting years to find (I wasn’t imagining it, was I?) and in that moment I needed you to do it more than I needed to buy my own land. I needed your hands on me so bad — maybe on my cheeks first, all soft and careful like the way you held my pinkie finger that same day… then maybe slipping down to my waist… maybe lower.

You should’ve kissed me, Joel.

I know we can’t go back in time. But that doesn’t stop me from replaying it like we can. Over and over. Trying to imagine what would’ve happened if you did. Maybe I wouldn’t be writing this from an empty bed.

Why did you splash me instead?

I’ve been so buried in this barn rebuild I barely know what day it is. I’m either on a ladder or carrying lumber and paint buckets these days so Troy offered to drop my letters in the post — I’m taking him up on that until I can catch my breath again. Don’t roll your eyes — it’s just postage, not a proposal.

(Ps. If you ever needed a reason to come by, the barn could sure use your hands… I could too. Just saying. You’re the only one I’d trust to help me finish it right.)

(Pps. Maybe then you could decide if it’s too late to make my wish come true.)

— your Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

I keep telling myself that the ranch is keeping you up to your elbows in work — that you’re probably too tired to pick up a pen and write me by the end of the day. But I ain’t gonna lie and say it hasn’t crossed my mind that maybe it’s me… maybe it was what I wrote before. I should’ve kept that stupid little wish to myself instead of spilling it all over the stupid page like an idiot who doesn’t know when to zip it.

Maybe I crossed a line.

Maybe I scared you off.

Maybe it was too much.

Maybe I was too much.

I’m sorry if I was.

I didn’t mean to throw it at you like that. You did ask. All I did was answer. What did you want me to do? Lie? I didn’t want to lie. I couldn’t lie. You always knew when I was lying. You woulda seen straight through my writing too. I’m sure of it.

You don’t have to write nothing about it.

Forget I even wrote it.

I’d rather you forget it than stop writing altogether.

I could still do with an extra pair of hands with the barn… if you’re still offering.

— still your Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

I’m not sure if you’re just real busy or if my last few letters have found their way into the bottom of a drawer somewhere — but I’ll keep writing anyway. Feels strange not to. You’ve always been the one I wanted to tell things to, even the boring stuff.

The barn’s coming along. Slowly. And stubbornly. Every beam I put up feels like an argument I’m winning. The roof’s half done, and I’ve managed not to fall off it (yet). Troy keeps showing up with his sleeves rolled and something smug on his face. There's been some talk around town lately — folks with big mouths and not much else to do, I guess it was bound to happen with the amount of time Troy spends here. I don’t know if word’s gotten all the way out to you, but he's just been helping with the barn, hanging around because I needed the hands and he's got the time… it's never been anything more than that. It's never even crossed my mind to want more than that — not when my heart's already with you at your ranch someplace else, and it's not anywhere Troy could ever reach.

It's not him I'm waiting for when the evenings get quiet and the sky turns that deep blue I know you love. He's not the one I’m awake for at ridiculous hours to write letters like this. I guess they don't really matter to you anymore (if they ever even did). Still — I needed you to read it from me, not to hear it twisted from anybody else.

— Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

The mailbox is collecting nothing but dust — either way, I thought you oughta know: the barn’s built.

Finally.

There’s a couple boards that don’t sit flush, and if you look close you’ll see where I had to patch up some mistakes, but it’s standing proud and strong and somehow still here after the first big rain. Sometimes I catch myself talking to it like it’s alive, like it knows how much I gave just to see it finished. I think you’d understand that better than most.

Today I left the back door open and just sat in the middle of the floor, watching the sun pour in.

It’s funny. I thought once it was done, I’d feel… finished, too. Like maybe I could stop chasing this vision I’ve had for myself and just enjoy it. It’s all I’ve known for as long as I can remember — this dream of having land of my own. It was all I needed. But as I was sitting there, all I could think about was how wrong empty it felt without you.

Now it feels like I built this place hoping someone else might come find a home in it with me. (You.)

Would you come see it? Bring George with you?

Juno’d love it. I would too.

It’s just us, Dixie and the livestock.

Troy’s found someone new to charm, I suppose — and I’m glad for it (you’ll be glad to know too, or not… I don’t know anymore). He still takes my letters but he don’t linger no more. Feels better that way, cleaner somehow, like maybe the land itself shook off all the things that didn’t belong. Hasn’t stopped the rumors though. You probably heard the latest ones, that we’re shacked up and married with six kids, oh, and that there was a ring in the last pie Troy brought over from his aunt’s… surely you don’t believe any of it.

If you could see the way I sit out on the porch at night with Juno at my feet (she insists on taking that gingham blanket you wrapped her up in for me everywhere she goes even though she’s way too big for it now). She leaves a little space for George and I leave a space beside me for you in case the two of you might appear and watch the stars with us like we never left you both behind. Maybe then you’d know that no matter what gets spread outside our gates, our hearts are where I’m afraid they’ve always been — Juno’s with her old pa and mine with you.

You can forget I ever wrote this too… please don’t.

(Ps. The barn’s got a good corner stall. Big enough for a brute like Clint, or a man if he needed a place to lay low for a while.)

(Pps. I’m afraid Judith has moved into the spare lodging and she likes screaming real loud in the morning. She also likes pecking Troy’s boots so hard he trips and falls every time — and she’s been laying eggs like a machine… Might be the only girl on this land who’s got her shit together.)

— always your Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

I've stopped waiting by the mailbox, mostly. Told myself I wouldn't keep count of the days since your last letter, but I have. It's been one hundred and eighty-two. I don't even know if you still live at the same place, if my words are just sitting in some pile you never open. If you’ve grown tired of me.

You said once you didn’t mind the sound of my voice — even when it wouldn't quit… you also said once that you cared about me but you can’t be bothered to answer any of my damn letters?

You’re so full of shit. Asshole.

It's been hard not hearing from you. I would only think about you when the work got quiet, or when I was sore at the end of a long day. But now it's all the time. Like missing you is something I do alongside breathing.

Why did you stop writing?

Was what I wrote really that bad?

Was it cause I told you I was gonna leave someday?

Was it cause you never let yourself need anything that could walk away from you?

Was it cause you don’t feel the same and didn’t have the guts to write it?

I spent so long believing you were just quiet. That maybe you couldn't find the words. That maybe the silence meant something tender. But now I'm thinking it was just silence. I’m a big girl, I can handle getting hit with rejection… but you know I can’t handle empty silence. You know how much I hate it.

All I’m asking for is a few lines from you. Just something so I know you’re still alive, that you haven’t forgotten me entirely.

(Ps. The ranch is growing. I bought another few acres to the south — orchard land. I think I'm gonna try peaches.)

— still your Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

‘Joel,

This’ll be the last letter, I think. Even a chatterbox like me can only keep talking to silence for so long before I start to feel like I’m going crazy.

My house — my barn — my land… it looks how I always dreamed it would. It’s the kind of place I used to draw in my notebooks when I was little, the kind of place I thought maybe only existed in stories. It’s everything I told you I needed. I just didn’t realize it at the time, that I needed you too. Not until now.

Juno’s keeping watch, sitting at the edge of the porch like she owns the place, ears perked and eyes sharp, even though she knows there’s nothing dangerous out here but her own loneliness. Mine too.

We can’t keep waiting on you to answer like this. She’s got sheep to herd. I’ve got land to maintain, livestock to look after, peaches and flowers to pick. I can’t even swim in the river anymore without thinking about how much I needed you to kiss me in lake Isabella. I think part of me's still floating there, waiting for you to pull me closer, a warm hand on my hip, sun in your eyes, asking if it's okay before you do it. You could’ve just done it and I would’ve let you… but you didn’t.

I’m sitting here with my pen hovering over this page, trying to find the right way to prove I’ve meant every word I’ve written you without making things worse than I already have.

I love

Fuck

Am I really gonna write this

Fuck it

You’re not gonna read it anyway

I love you, Joel Miller.

Always did.

Probably always will. But I need to stop reaching for something that doesn’t wanna hold me.

I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re safe and I hope that George is still wagging his tail for bacon strips, wherever you are.

Goodby

(Ps. If you ever do find yourself missing me… you know the way.)

— Sunshine’

༺ 🐑 ༻

The vastness of your ranch spread out before you in a way that still took your breath away. The land had tested you, challenged you, and at times, nearly broken you. But as the golden hour approached, you feel as though you're being cradled in its arms — being held steady after years of uncertainty.

The wind has teeth this evening.

Not the kind that rips or howls—but the low, gnawing kind that seeps through the seams of your coat and catches in the crooks of your bones. An early spring in Texas didn't always bring storm or rain, but it brought chill, and it hung over the land like a veil. The sun is pale in a sky the color of pewter, and the frost hadn't yet burned off the tall grass. Each blade shimmers like glass.

Juno, your constant — your loyal companion, moves through the grass beside you, her sleek black and white coat contrasting with the vibrant green earth. She's as part of the land as the other animals you'd been devoting your life to. The sheep, now grazing peacefully at the far end of the pasture, look content in their solitude.

Your work for the day had been done—crops tended to, your milk cow, Betty, given her evening grain, Dixie fed and brushed—both of them in their stalls for the night. You decide it's time to gather the sheep, to urge them into their own shelter beside the barn. You click your tongue, and Juno's ears perk up. She immediately turns her focus to the herd, running off to them with graceful precision like the prodigy she is.

“Easy, girl!” You call out, grinning. The sheep bunch together, docile under Juno's movements. You jog to keep up, the sweet scent of trampled grass and wildflowers filling your nostrils, and a laugh escapes you — loud and careless. “Good girl! That's it, Juno! Get 'em! Go 'round!” you holler, cupping your gloved hands around your mouth.

Juno barks once as she swoops around the herd. She veers left and then right, rounding up the sheep with an energy oozing pure mischief. The flock bawl and stumble in confusion, a few ewes trying to make a break for it — but Juno is faster. She flies behind them, crouched low, her body taut with excitement.

You watch her with pride swelling in your chest — she is full-grown now, all lean muscle and boundless spirit, though she still has the same spark she did as a pup. The sheep bleat in protest but Juno is persistent and you know exactly where she got that from — she's a chip off of old George's block. She races, expertly rounding them up into one bumpy mass.

“Okay now you're just showin' off, aren't you, Junebug?” you tease, hands on your hips.

She barks again, then waits.

You whistle — the command to settle.

Juno freezes, mostly, her tail sways in the grass.

“Not bad for a couple'a rookies, huh?” Juno woofs in agreement.

You saunter closer to the flock, planning to lead them through the wooden gate into their pen... but Juno's ears prick — and without warning, she snaps her head up, nose twitching furiously. The sheep shift uneasily, sensing the change in her energy.

“Juno.” You steadily step towards the sprightly dog.

She gives a soft whine, her attention drawn somewhere else.

“Juno.” You take another careful step. Your confidence falters as she continues to ignore you. It isn't the first time she's gotten distracted and you know she'll bolt if you're not cautious, but usually it doesn't take much more than one call of her name to coax her back into the task at hand. “Juno?”

Her head snaps in your direction and for a second you think you've broken her out of her trance, but she looks... uncertain. In a flash she is gone, streaking away from you and toward the far edge of the field, faster than you'd ever seen her move.

“Hey!” You shout, losing your composure instantly, “Juno, no! Get back here!”

She doesn't even glance back.

You don't hesitate to tear after her, dodging through the sheep, their wool brushing your legs. Your heart is pounding in sync with your boots hitting the ground — legs pumping with urgency. You vault the fence without thinking, boots hitting the ground with a frosty crack. The sheep are scattered behind you now, but you don't look back.

You are running blind, your scarf flying off your neck as you fly past the Bur Oak tree that Betty and Dixie like to doze under in the next pasture.

“Wait up! Juno!” Your voice echoes, lost in the expanse of the land. The dog’s shape is reduced to a small dot as she beelines for the tree line framing the wide river, toward the far edge of the ranch. She zooms past your ranch-house, the toolshed, the cabin, the coop and, lastly, where your land gives way to open country.

The main road is up ahead, the dusty gravel ribbon of it, and beyond it, the county highway — large vehicles barreling by without a care in the world.

A fear slams into you, hot and blinding — the image of a speeding truck, the sound of screeching brakes, the sickening thud of impact.

“Goddammit, Juno! STOP!” you scream, your voice raw with terror. You stumble harder, faster, reckless with the thought of her — your girl — running headlong into danger.

She skids to a halt.

Abrupt, frantic, paws digging into the dirt, throwing up a spray of dust around her.

You freeze mid-stride, nearly tripping over your own feet as you struggle to see what had made her stop so suddenly... all you're sure of is that it definitely wasn't because you'd desperately demanded for her to.

That's when you see the end of the invisible string that Juno had been nudging you to follow all along.

A flash of movement — a figure with a horse in tow walking up the path leading to the heart of the ranch from your front gate.

They're nothing more than a silhouette against the late sun, the light blinding and harsh, turning them into dark shadows cut from the sky.

Juno narrows the distance between her and them by a few yards, barking wildly — not in fear, not in warning, but in pure joy.

She throws herself at the figure, her whole body quivering, tail a white blur of motion.

The man —

He stiffly drops to one knee, the weight of his duffel bag on one shoulder and guitar case on the other had clearly been hurting him by the way he slumps them onto the ground. His hand comes up, offering it for Juno to sniff before burying it into her fur, holding onto her like a man drowning in a river would hold onto a branch.

Your lungs seize, useless in your chest.

You'd expected to see a coyote, a stray dog, a trespasser... not him.

Not Joel.

Not after two years of no written reply from him.

You'd told yourself a hundred times you were over it. Over him. That he was a chapter closed and done with. But seeing him now — clutching Juno to his chest like she's the only good thing left in the world, and her looking up at him like she'd been waiting her whole life to see him again — you realize you never stopped carrying those seasons you spent working together in your heart.

After pawing at his chest and licking his chin Juno drops back down to the ground, spinning in a tight circle before darting around him — sniffing behind his legs, then trotting to the left, nose to the wind. She lets out a quick bark, as if she'd forgotten something.

And then she whimpers. A puzzled, soft little sound. She stares up at him, then behind him again. Searching.

She's looking for George.

She circles him again, nose twitching, paws scuffing the dirt. She looks around him, examining his shadow like it's supposed to have one more set of paws beside it. She lets out another whine, even softer this time, her tail slowing. Then she sits right in front of him, head tilted, brow creased in that funny, thoughtful way dogs do when they can't quite understand where something's gone.

Joel doesn't speak. He just shakes his head.

No words. Just that tiny shake. A quiet answer.

Your throat tightens.

You feel it in your ribs — a dull ache. George had been there at the start. That cranky old Border Collie had been Joel’s second shadow, always watchful, always ready. You used to joke that George was the one in charge. That Joel was just his hands.

The idea of him gone — the space between Joel and Clint empty? You can’t fathom it.

Joel stands up with a grunt you can't quite hear and Juno noses at Joel's boot, giving one last huff before curling herself close to his leg again. She leans into him, pressing her face into the fabric of his jeans, trying to comfort him. Joel's hand comes down to rest on her head, comforting her in return.

He hasn't seen you yet. You're too far away and the brim of his cowboy hat is blocking a majority of his sight. Or maybe he has seen you and can't bring himself to look.

Slowly—so slowly—you pace forward, the frozen grass crackling underfoot, the cold biting high along your cheekbones until you're on the path Joel'd been walking up. You wrap your arms around yourself, partly for warmth, partly to stop yourself from shaking apart, panicking and running the other direction. You'd done this many times, usually to meet the postman, Troy or to check the road for deliveries.

The scrape of your boots alerts Joel and Juno as soon as you’re no more than three steps away from them.

Joel stares at you, his face blank—his mind struggling to process seeing you in the flesh.

The dog gives you a look as if to say: “it’s about time you joined us.”

Joel shifts awkwardly, lowering his eyes. He pulls his hat off and holds it to his chest, clutching it tightly in both hands. His hair is longer now, curling out at the edges, falling messily over his ears and shirt-collar —streaked with more silver. A gust of cold wind stirs it, and he doesn’t move to fix it.

He looks older.

That's the first thing that strikes you — not in a cruel way, just... truthful. The years had carved themselves into him — deliberate and unrelenting. The Joel standing at your gate isn't the same man who had handed you a puppy and asked you to stay with him four years ago. He'd been worn down — broken and weathered in that quiet, tragic way only time and loss could manage.

His frame is still broad, still unmistakably strong, but there's a leaner edge to it — a kind of hollowness at the shoulders — something vital had been carved out of him and never filled back in. His clothes are simple and dust-covered: faded jeans that cling to the muscle of his thighs, a worn green and black button-down, threadbare at the cuffs, scuffed boots that are white at the toes — creased with every step it took to get here — and a canvas jacket. You know it well. You'd stitched that shoulder, back when it had caught a nail after he'd insisted on fixing a fence post on a particularly cold night at his ranch. You sat on a stool outside your lodging with the jacket slung over your lap and a needle in hand — your fingers trembled so much — they were practically blue it was that freezing. Joel came walking down to your cabin from his ranch-house with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, handed you one and sat on a tree stump opposite you without a word. It was unexpected. It was also the night you realized you didn't mind the quiet… as long as you shared it with Joel.

He looks like he hasn't done a single thing for the benefit of his own health, sure, but he's as ruggedly handsome as he was that night.

“Joel,” you manage to utter, your voice so small you barely hear it yourself. “What’re you—”

“Land’s somethin’ special.” His sad, sunken eyes skim past you, scanning over your ranch. “If anyone was gonna make somethin’ of it, it’d be you.”

You don’t respond. You just watch him with your mouth ajar—the way he keeps his shoulders stiff, the way he refuses to even meet your eyes.

“Always knew you deserved better than what my old shithole of a ranch was offerin’ for a life.”

Your fingers curl at your sides. You want to grab him, shake him, tell him you would’ve built this place with him if he’d only showed up. Tell him you never needed better — you needed him. “Joel—” you start, but he cuts you off, voice too casual to match the exhaustion in his facial features.

“You don’t gotta fuss over me, alright?” He finally glances your way, offering the ghost of a smile. “I ain’t here for a pity party. Just… figured I’d stop by. See it for myself.”

“Bullshit,” you scoff.

“‘Scuse me?”

“You heard me — if you wanted to see it that bad why didn’t you stop by two years ago?”

He ducks his head, ashamed, and nervously fiddles with the brim of the hat you named the “grumpy man’s crown” upon your first week of working with him, when you couldn’t get more than five words out of him… you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

Without thinking, you reach out and grab his arm — solid under your fingers, tense with hesitation. His skin burns hot through the fabric of his jacket. He stiffens, surprised, but doesn’t pull away. You hook your spare hand around the strap of his duffel bag and grab the battered guitar case from where it’s slumped against his boot, completely ignoring his grumbled protests about doing his carrying for him. You tug at him — not gentle — dragging him toward the house with a strength you didn’t know you had.

Joel lets you, weakly whistling for Clint to follow.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ⇝

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 (𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐨’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑂𝑓 𝐷𝑢𝑠𝑡, 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 ＆ 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑜

@dugiioh @monicasblues @millennialeldar @julesispunk @notyouraveragemochii @homophobicclownmoviestan

𝐽𝑜𝑒𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

༺ 🐑 ༻

[writingouthere]

Wait neighbor Sukuna is cuteeeeee I need a story pleaseeee🥹🥹🥹

another neighbor!Sukuna drabble. your first unofficial date.

cw: fluff, single parent reader, Sukuna is a good neighbor but a bad dude

The first time that Sukuna took you out happened on accident.

He'd been keeping track of your comings and goings so he could start being in the hallway at the same time as you to give a casual hello. His favorite times were when you had time to just chat without you needing to rush off to work or to daycare or one of the many activities you always were taking your daughter to.

It was a Saturday morning and Sukuna's ears perked up when he heard you talking to your daughter down the hallway. You couldn't clearly hear what you were saying but the tone seemed soothing and he thought he could even make out some sniffling from your daughter, unusual since she was usually so cheerful.

Sukuna grabbed his mailbox key so he had a purpose for stepping outside and slipped some shoes on before going into the hallway.

"Morning, neighbor," you managed cheerfully and Sukuna looked down to see that your daughter had tears on her face. The sight had his hackles up immediately.

"Are you all okay?" He tried to sound nonchalant and he wondered if it worked as you wiped away some of your daughter's tears.

"We're okay, it's just," you paused here and looked at your daughter. "Her dad was going to take her to the aquarium but something came up and he's not going to make it. I know he's really disappointed he can't go." The touch of anger in your eyes made him think that this was you just trying to make your daughter feel better.

Sukuna had been planning to wait a little longer, to build more of a rapport with you before trying anything, but he couldn't just see you or your kid look like this over some loser who couldn't be a real man for his family.

"Well I don't see why that means we can't go to the aquarium," he said and he finally got the kid to stop crying for a second and look up at him.

"We don't have a car and it's over two hours by subway," you said reluctantly and Sukuna couldn't contain his sly grin.

"I have a car, and I wouldn't mind taking you. If that's okay with you, of course."

"Yes, yes, yes, can we go mommy, please?" Sukuna had never heard your toddler say so much before and you bit your lip before looking back at him. Sukuna could barely keep his eyes off your mouth but he knew if he looked he'd kiss you and this wasn't the place for it.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to do it, sweetheart." You blushed a little at that and looked down at your daughter.

"Alright bug, we can go. But make sure you tell Mr. Ryomen thank you."

"Thank you, Mr. Ryomen," your daughter echoed dutifully and he knelt down to ruffle her hair.

"No need to thank me, and I told you, you can both just call me Sukuna."

"Thank you, Sukuna." Sukuna really wanted to kiss you. But he knew that if he did it now it would ruin this perfect chance for you to see what he could be for you, for both of you.

You bring out a car seat that you have in your apartment and you show Sukuna how to install it. Sukuna pays attention because he plans on going on many more trips with the two of you. Maybe the car seat can even just stay here(not yet, not yet, not yet he keeps telling himself).

He encourages you to choose the radio station you listen to on the way over and you choose a throwback station that has you and the kid singing along to. It's nice and warm and Sukuna knows every person he's ever met would be baffled at the scene but it feels too fucking right to care.

He pays once you get there, waving off your protests and you spend all day looking at the exhibits. When you get to the pool where you can pet the stingrays, he lifts your daughter up so she can reach them and shows her how to hold her fingers so the animals will come up to her. He can feel your gaze on him, but this isn't even just for you. The more time he spends with your daughter, the more he feels like she's supposed to be his too.

Finally though, the toddler being a toddler gets hangry and you all stop at the cafe for a light lunch. He watches as you try to persuade your daughter to have some fruit in addition to the cookie she has her eye on and Sukuna pops some of the grapes in his mouth with an exaggerated noise of pleasure, making mini-you copy him.

"Thanks," you tell him as you watch your daughter finish up her fruit. "It was one thing when it was just the vegetables she didn't like but now she's got beef with fruits and I'm worried she's going to end up with scurvy."

"No problem, happy to help." and the thing is, Sukuna is happy to help. He remains happy as you finish going through the aquarium. When your daughter gets too tired, he picks her up and carries her so you can make your way back to your car.

"All tired out, bug," you say, affectionately rubbing her back. He hoists her up higher on his hip as you enter the lobby when an older woman stops you.

"Such a beautiful family you have here," she says waving at the sleepy toddler on Sukuna's hip and he nods as you blush.

Neither of you speak about it, but he wonders if it's on your mind as much as his on your way back to your apartment building. He lets you say your goodbyes as the sleeping girl on your shoulder drools in her sleep.

When Sukuna enters his apartment he leans back against his door and just lets the warmth of the day wash over him. He had known before what he wanted, but now he felt almost desperate.

His days spent in this quiet apartment alone were numbered, and he was going to make sure you knew his intentions as soon as possible.

After all, he still had your car seat.

[slaaverin]

Jimin releases a song on International Pride Day with an untold truth concept, where he sings I love you babe, at the top of his lungs, but he also mentions the person having secret feelings for him and he says "lets be more honest". He films the video for the song and leaves set and hops on a plane with JK to Japan immediately a few hours later, walking through the airport with both of them being clingy and were super clingy in Japan, that we saw. And since then, he and JK have not gotten shy and hid away one bit from their bond. They openly traveled the world and released a show after, with very questionable sus moments. Jimin randomly tells us he's sleeping at JK's. Jk randomly tells 20 million people he is showering with Jimin singing romantic songs. Telling us these intimate things, as 30 year old men? Umm Okay. They're doing their joint enlistment together, sending wreaths together as a unit. To me, this is exactly what "lets be more honest" looks like. I'm not saying all this proves Jikook is real, but from where I'm sitting, Jimin's words make no sense being directed at other members, that people ship him with. And I stand by that, cause I don't see him being open and honest with other members. He doesn't even talk about other members barely, but esp not in the context he talks about Jk, he isn't saying he spends the night with them, he isn't making ramen jokes toward them, he isn't putting fans in their places for saying they wanna marry them, he isn't flying to them on a couple day and spending couple days with them, he doesn't let them on his personal album on a hidden song, like he did Jk, where in the song he calls someone his baby, his dangshin, his protector, the one he wants to be side by side. So, by not doing that, that would be the opposite of "lets be more honest" right? if he's still hiding everything away with other these members they swear he wrote that about, but instead, constantly does and says things so openly about Jk and is always side by side with him, instead? I think the answer is in everyone's faces and has been all along. Or maybe I'm just delulu lol.

You're far from delulu and yes the answer is staring at us in the face. Always has been. Since day 1 Jimin told us who is heart belongs to (telling us again with Jungkook's face appearing at the end of Who).

It's clear it's obvious it's simple there's no need for mental gymnastics.

I hope some day this fandom will finally adress the elephant in the room and treat jikook's bond as it deserves to be treated.

Jimin and Jungkook have been clear enough. Now people only need to have the eyes to see, which is another problem lol

If jikook keep being honest, maybe more and more people will wake up to this simple truth eventually and stop making so many unecessary fights.

Let's cross fingers 💜

[c0la-queen]

RAGHHHHHHHHH

Could you ever so kind and provide some general dating Headcannons for all the four boys?? 🥺👉👈

Maybe some extra with red leader or someone else if you’re fine with that??? 🥺💜

Mwah mwah you have amazing work <3 /p

Oh my gods I am SO sorry that this is so late!! For some reason, Mr. Tumblr decided not to notify me about your ask?? And then I was at my bestie's house this weekend, so I haven't checked my inbox until now. Begging for your forgiveness rn Anon!!

Also literally kissing you for asking for Red Leader!! Mwah, mwah!!

---

Edd

If you are dating Edd... girlie I am so sorry for your sanity.

Don't get me wrong, I love Edd! He was my first Eddsworld love, my pookie bear for real! But he's the biggest bastard of the entire gang and I stand by that.

Calls you dumb pet names to try and make you laugh. Sugar Tits (regardless of gender or lack thereof, might I add), Baby Doll, Sexy.

He WILL grab/slap your ass all the time. Even in public. Only grins when you glare at him.

This man is a horrible influence. It will be so hard to get your shit done if he has decided that you need to be spending time with him. Why worry about work or chores when you could be all cuddled up with him and Ringo on the couch?

Will sulk if you reject his attempts.

If he's trying to get shit done and you're pestering him for attention? He will drop his basket of laundry or the dishes in his hands in a millisecond.

If he's working on a commission or animation, he'll let you sit in his lap in his chair, let you sit all pretty for him while he works. When he finishes, if you've fallen asleep by then -which you usually do - then he'll carefully move you both to his bed and snuggle up to you and take a nap with you.

Speaking of cuddling, he does naturally run hot. Comes with being a big boy <3 But if you don't enjoy that, then he'll use his powers to cool down his skin for you. Anything to keep cuddling!

He also uses his powers whenever possible. Will abuse them without shame. He puts things on the highest shelf, just so you have to him for help. He'll put patches of ice on the floor under your feet, just so he can catch you before you fall (he'll never let you actually get hurt), and uses his super strength to scoop you up randomly and carry you around.

You cannot show your text messages to ANYONE. He will say filthy things, just to fluster you. Horny Bastard. Finds ways to turn even the most mundane conversations into teasing.

He'd do cute couple things with you, like painting together and swapping canvases every 5 minutes. His favorite is going to cat cafes. The cats literally love him, its like he's made of catnip with how they swarm him.

Physical affection is a huge thing with him. Even little touches throughout the day, like ruffling your hair as he passes by, or a big hug from behind while you fix food.

Overall, big teddy bear that just likes to see his darling blush.

Tom

As I've stated in previous works, Tom is a secret romantic.

He's not a traditional romantic like Matt, but he's romantic in his own way.

Likes parallel play a lot. Finds it relaxing to just sit in his room, testing new songs on his bass while you lay on his bed reading a book. Or in your room, lounging on one of your plush beanbag and organizing his Spotify playlists while you fold your laundry.

Dates with him consist of record stores, concerts, and late night walks.

He'll sing for you if you ask him to.

Very down to earth, both as a person and as a boyfriend. If you have problems, he'll listen patiently until you're done, then help you brainstorm solutions. He doesn't downplay or ignore your feelings, but he doesn't jump to emotions like others might.

He tends to sleep in late on his nights off, since he's more of a night owl than anything. You know that, so you've made it a little tradition to fix him coffee around 11. You know exactly how he takes it, and he always thanks you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy, mumbled "you're the best."

Very caring. He'll make sure you've eaten and had water. Will usher you to bed if he can see that you're tired, or do your chores for you if you can't do them for whatever reason. If you can't sleep, he'll make you a mug of chamomile tea and sing you a little lullaby.

When it comes to his monster tendencies, he tries to keep you away from it all. He's bitter about what he is, and he thinks that you're better off separated from that side of him.

At the start of relationship, he'd get angry if you tried to push it. He'd snap at you, distance himself, not talk to you for maybe a couple of days. Further on in the relationship, though, if you push the issue and reassure him that you love every side of him, even the monstrous one, then he'd be more willing. Willing to let you in, to let you see that part of him. He'd be nervous about it, but he'd do it because he loves you.

Matt

He is a traditional romantic! His Mama raised him right, and he drinks his Respect Juice.

Makes sure you two have date night at least once every week. Dressing up nice, going out to dinner or a play, taking a walk through the town to wind down the night. Heading back into the house, changing back into comfortable clothes. He'd wipe your makeup off for you, if you wear it.

Absolutely the kind of guy to get down on his knees in front of you and unbuckle/untie your shoes or high heels for you. He's just so devotional.

If, for whatever reason, you guys are unable to have your date night, he'll make it up to you in some way. A bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your bed with a little note. A passionate kiss before one of you has to leave the house. A heartfelt love letter sealed with wax.

Makes sure to text you throughout the day with sweet messages. Compliments, "I love you"s, selfies, updates on what is happening at work. Or just reminders that he's thinking of you. Misses you.

Likes to cook meals for you if its just the two of you at home. Breakfast is his forte, but he's not the worst at following a recipe.

Always amazing for advice. He'll let you talk to him while he hugs you from behind. If it's something sad, he might cry. Just the idea of you going through something negative makes him sad, too.

If he doesn't have advice for you, he'd do anything in his power to find someone who does. One of the other roommates, or even his mother, if you're comfortable with it.

Speaking of his mother, she absolutely adores you. Since Matt has such a good relationship with her, he's already told her so much about you. She thinks its wonderful that her baby has fallen in love. After a while, Matt will even bring you along to his lunches with his mother. You two hit it off instantly.

If you're okay with it, then Matt would love to show you off on his social media. He thinks you're so gorgeous, the entire world should know that he managed to land you. Its never anything invasive, and he always gets your permission before he posts things. Blocks any weird or gross comments.

Loves going on shopping dates with you. Most of the time, its at the mall or a mall in a different town, because he loves walking around and window shopping. Occasionally, he'll take you to more expensive stores. It doesn't bother him, he loves spoiling you. No matter where you two are, he'll buy you anything that you want. If you are adamant to spend your own money, he won't put up too much of a fuss, though he does prefer to pay for you.

He'll do that couples trend with you where you find nail polish that matches the other's eye color.

Gift giving is just one of his love languages in general. It makes him so happy to give his loved one things that he bought. For you specifically, he'll also throw in hand made gifts. He may not be the most talented artistically, but he'll stay awake late into the night, sitting on the floor with a YouTube tutorial playing, paper and cardboard scattered around, a pencil between his teeth, paint on his hands and smeared on his cheek. The end result may look a little crude, but he'll still present it to you with pride. And, of course, you always love it.

Tord

Tord is probably the most romantically stunted of the four. Its not that he doesn't love you, far from it really. He just grew up in an environment where love wasn't freely given, and was often limited for appearances.

His father, as the Red Leader, insisted that he keep a professional and feared image. So, Tord never saw him being affectionate with his mother.

It might be hard at first. You'll struggle. You two may fight. But you'll always make up in the end. He'll listen to you, try to understand your point of view.

He's not against physical affection, but he's able to live without it. Will indulge you whenever you ask. If he's busy, which he usually is, he'll let you drape yourself over him from behind while he sits in his chair, letting you rest your cheek on the top of his head and watch him work.

More than anything, his love language is words of affirmation. Despite being a man of few words, he'll always give you praise. He'll make sure you know that you are his, he is yours, and he loves you. Nothing will change that.

Scary dog privilege. He'll always walk just behind you in public, keeping a guiding hand on the small of your back. Stays alert of you surroundings and the people around, so that you don't have to. You don't even have to worry about people approaching you in public. One piercing glare from Tord is enough to deter anyone.

Not the best at giving advice to problems. He'll listen, but sometimes he can't quite understand why something is an issue. Doesn't invalidate your feelings on purpose, it just happens inadvertently at times. Always, ALWAYS apologizes and holds you close when he realizes what he did.

His preferred dates are nights in at home. Cuddled up on the couch with takeout watching shitty rom-coms. Cooking food that he ate growing up in Norway while you sit at the kitchen table watching. Going to the convenience store at midnight to get Ben and Jerry's in the middle of anime binges.

You become his crutch. When he's having bad paranoia on nights that are too quiet, he'll seek you out. Just having you lay in bed with him, warm and solid and breathing, always calms him down.

He will never let you meet his parents. You are one of the very few good things in his life, and he wants to keep that away from his fucked up home life. Might let you meet his little sister, but not for a long time.

Surprisingly, he does tend to talk more when its just the two of you. He allows you into his head, verbalizing his thoughts to you. He'll ramble about his projects, tell you about the history behind his culture, or rant about things that annoy him. Denies it vehemently in front of others.

He is a huge tease, second only to Edd. What's dangerous is how casual he is about it. Loves making you squirm, and he'll never even change his expression. Sometimes he won't even be looking at you, but rest assured that he is swimming in satisfaction over how flustered you are.

Red Leader

I have so many thoughts about him. Oh my lord.

This is going off the scenario where Reader is a Red Army soldier and met him through the army, after the events of The End.

I want to clarify that this is NOT following the events of TBATF!!! This is my own Red Army timeline, what I refer to in my Eddsworld bubble as "The Bad End"

There are two ways that you'd be able to catch Red Leader's attention. Either you are an extremely talented soldier that does well among your peers, enough to earn the praise of your superior officers and eventually Red Leader himself. Or, you were assigned as his personal assistant to help with paperwork and meetings, but you were so good at handling his temper and attitude that he found himself surprised.

The latter of the two is my favorite, so I'll be working under that one.

Before you, Red Leader had been through several assistants. None of them lasted more than a month. By nature, he was a moody, temperamental man. The stress of the army and oncoming war only made that worse. He saw those previous assistants as nuisances, only getting in his way. He would yell at them, berate them, drive them to the brink until they beg Paul and Pat to transfer them.

When they assigned you to him, they expected the same thing to happen. The two even made bets on how long you'd last. On your first day, Red Leader was nasty to you. Gruff and rude. But... you bit back. That took him by surprise. Instead of taking the insult and shuffling out like a puppy with its tail between its legs, you pursed your lips and gave him a stern look and talked to him in a way that nobody dared to. He should've been angry. Should have screamed at you, discharged you from the army in a heartbeat.

Instead, he found that he quite enjoyed it. He enjoyed your spitfire. Not that he'd let you know. He only gave you a noncommittal hum and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. But... he kept you around. Even found excuses for you to come into his office more than necessary. His penchant for teasing came back full force. He'd poke and prod, finding ways to make you react with that fire he so loved.

It takes a long time for him to finally make a move. Probably takes a near-death experience for him, or an injury to you for him to realize that he wants this. He wants a future with you.

At first, he may seem a little cold in public. Not to the degree that his father was - he promised himself that he would never be like his father. Simply a more... professional air about the entire thing. It was more out of anxiety than anything. He didn't want to make you a target, didn't want to cause you to get hurt. As his army grows more powerful and takes over more and more countries, he grows more comfortable with PDA. He knows that when he is the most powerful man in the world, he doesn't have to worry about anyone hurting you.

He would probably treat you more like a spouse than a girlfriend/boyfriend right off the bat. He's older now, thinking more about the future than the present. He already knows that he wants to be with you forever, so why go through the formalities and hassle of dating?

Always makes time for you whenever he can. If he's in a meeting with his generals or another world leader, he'll sneak text messages to you. Doesn't give a shit if he's caught. What are they going to do to him, Red Leader?

If he's cooped up in his office all day, his door is always open to you. Loves having you drop by unannounced to bring him food or coffee. He'll let you climb into his lap while he works, or sit behind him in his chair and cling to him. Even if you're just sitting in a separate chair nearby, working on your own stuff. He's happy.

If you want to continue being a soldier, or his assistant, he'll let you. But he's also perfectly happy to have you simply be his partner and not have a care in the world. You could sit all pretty in his quarters waiting for him to get off duty, or use the time to pursue your own hobbies and interests. As long as you're happy and cared for, it's okay with him.

Spoils you rotten. You're Red Leader's, so of course you only deserve the best things. Anything in the world you want, you only have to ask for it. It's yours. He would raze entire cities just to see you smile.

He does enjoy taking you out on dates. While also spending time with you, he sees it as a way to show you off to the world. Dressing you up in the finest clothes that he got you, the prettiest jewelry that he bought. Taking you to restaurants and operas where everyone can see you hanging on his arm. It makes him puff up with pride.

When the two of you are alone, he's so adoring. Loves snuggling. It's a struggle to convince him to let you out of bed in the mornings, he'll just be clinging to you. If you do somehow manage to escape his grasp, he'll catch you around the waist and drag you back to bed. Won't stop until Paul or Pat message him to get his ass out of bed. He always grumbles about how "it's my damn army, I should get to sleep in as long as I want".

Sometimes, at night, he has pains in his right shoulder, the side where he's burned and amputated. It can range from a dull ache to excruciating pain. On nights that it hurts too much to move, you'll scramble out of bed and get his medication from his nightstand, gently coaxing him to take it. You'll hold him and comfort him until the pain subsides and he falls back asleep.

He doesn't like to talk about it, really. It feels weird, letting anyone see this part of his life. Letting you see his vulnerability. Letting you see him.

But he does.

[starryeyeddreamer21]

I need Vaggie and Husk to be friends SO badly. I just think they have potential like they could possibly be one of the best duos if given a chance. I actually have so many thoughts on this so hear me out:

There's so much potential JUST because of their relationships with Charlie and Angel (Charlie and Angel are siblings but we don't need to get into that right now)

But seriously short grumpy characters with wings and their extroverted beanpole partner is killing me

So basically I can see them both ranting about what their partners are doing on a daily basis but it always ends with "I love them SO much" "Cheers I'll drink to that"

I have a feeling Charlie and Angel are both the kind of people to leave lipstick marks on their partners and just not tell them so Husk and Vaggie have to check each other out real quick before going anywhere. I mean no questions asked just one of them standing in front of the other with their arms and legs spread out until the other one gives them a thumbs up or a rag to clean it off with.

I also think it would be funny if Husk was the first person to know Vaggie was an angel he just didn't mention it. He says so himself that the residents of the hotel will spill their secrets when they get drunk so Vaggie definitely got drunk and let it slip that she was an angel but didn't remember it by morning. Husk's motto is basically "That's none of my business" so he just doesn't say anything.

Also continuing with the "that's none of my business" thing, Vaggie absolutely agrees with that sentiment as long as it doesn't hurt Charlie or the hotel. Neither of them like people digging into their business and having Alastor in their lives means someone is ALWAYS digging so it's nice to be with someone who just does not care.

Oh and they both shit on Alastor 24/7 so good for them

PREENING EACH OTHER!!! By the time Vaggie gets her wings back they're close enough for this. Husk hates his wings and is shit at taking care of them but Vaggie really wants this to happen. She does miss some things about the exorcists and that's one of them. Of course she would never say that out loud but Husk gets it and they do it anyway.

Vaggie would start flying ALL THE TIME after getting her wings like she has so much time to catch up on. Angel knows that her and Husk are good friends and that Husk hates his form so he'll get Vaggie to convince Husk to fly with her. It takes a little bit but they have fun and Charlie is really proud of her so it's worth it.

They can literally sit in comfortable silence for hours and not get bored

They bicker all the time about everything like they'll say the meanest shit but they're besties and they're joking so it's fine

They are so down to kill Valentino at any time. They have multiple plans, they have lists, they're really creative about it too.

They'll just sit, people watch, and judge strangers together

They're so judgemental but also the least judgmental??? They'd be like "Why would you do that you dumbass" but also actually listen to what's being said and try to find a reasonable solution for each other

Double dates that Vaggie and Husk don't actually want to go on but unfortunately Charlie and Angel are convincing (they have a really good time)

They were both stripped from their occupations (overlord/angel). They miss it sometimes and they feel bad about it because they were both terrible people during those times. When they get like this they always seek each other's company. Sometimes they actually talk about it, sometimes they change the subject to something completely different, sometimes they have a drink and sit in silence. Either way they only acknowledge it with each other.

Husk teaches Vaggie how to make drinks. It's calming for him (even though it's annoying that he's technically being forced to do it) so he thought she might like it. She does and is actually really good at it. When they get more residents she'll help him out behind the bar.

Sometimes they'll sing together. They sound amazing and their partners love it. Husk also tries to teach Vaggie how to play saxophone it does not go as good as bartending did

They're the only ones in the hotel that can speak Spanish so yes they do use that to their advantage

Are both so tired all the time. They just deserve a stress free nap. They end up curled up together asleep and are found by Angel in the middle of the night. He takes a picture and immediately sends it to Charlie. Charlie and Angel manage to keep the picture but are not allowed to show anyone or ever mention it again.

They would never actually admit to being friends even though they're best friends and one of the few people the other can actually stand being around

JUST HUSK AND VAGGIE BEING BEST FRIENDS YOU GUYS

[pankowcrumbs]

On and off again X Eddie Munson

MasterList

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

It’s a funny thing, the way some people orbit each other. Always crashing, always drifting, always finding some ridiculous way to gravitate back.

That’s us.

Me and Eddie Munson.

The first time we broke up, it was loud. We were eighteen, drunk on cherry vodka and fake adulthood. It was summer after graduation, the kind of humid Indiana night where everything feels stickier than it should. We were at Steve Harrington’s house, naturally everyone always ends up at Steve’s.

Eddie had been halfway through a passionate rant about “poser metalheads” when I’d dared to say, “Maybe not everything has to be a performance.”

He’d gone quiet. Dangerously quiet. Then, boom words exploded. I can’t remember all of them, just flashes: “You don’t get it.” “You think I’m fake?” “You always do this.” It ended with me throwing his Hellfire Club hoodie at him and storming out barefoot.

We didn’t speak for a month.

Until one night, I found him sitting on my porch with that stupid cassette player of his, holding up a mixed tape labelled: Songs That Remind Me You Exist (And I Hate It).

We laughed until we cried. I kissed him halfway through track three.

The second breakup was quiet.

It was winter. Snow fell in lazy flurries outside his trailer, and we lay tangled in his too-small bed under too many blankets. My fingers were in his hair. He looked up at me and whispered, “I think you’re going to leave me.”

I remember the way my heart ached. Not because he was wrong, but because he was right.

I didn’t say anything. Just pressed a kiss to his forehead and let the silence stretch.

The next day, I told him we should take space. He didn’t argue. Just nodded once, jaw clenched, and helped me zip my coat.

That one lasted two months.

Until I saw him at the petrol station, fumbling with a crumpled pack of smokes. Our eyes met, and something in his broke. “Don’t leave again,” he whispered.

I didn’t.

Robin was always the one stuck in the middle.

“I swear to god,” she’d muttered once, head tipped back on Nancy’s couch as I ranted about Eddie’s inability to show up on time. “You two have more seasons than Friends.”

She wasn’t wrong. It’d become a routine.

Flirt. Fall. Fight. Repeat.

We loved hard. That was the problem. Passion didn’t just live in the sweet nights or music-drenched car rides it lived in the arguments, too. Neither of us knew how to do anything halfway.

The third time was different. Personal.

He’d written a song. A raw, beautiful thing. I found it on a crumpled bit of paper in his jacket.

It was about me.

But not the version I recognised. In his song, I was cruel. Cold. The one who ran. The one who “made storms out of sunlight.”

I asked him about it.

He shrugged, couldn’t meet my eye. “It’s just lyrics.”

But I saw it everything he thought but never said. The way he saw me when we fought. A mirror I wasn’t ready to face.

I left without a word.

He didn’t follow that time.

I think we both needed the distance.

And then…

Then there was the night I came home to find a string of fairy lights taped to my front door, leading through the hall and into the living room, where he sat cross-legged on the floor beside a box of records and two cans of cherry coke.

“Thought you might wanna scream-sing Bowie with me,” he said, not even trying to hide the way his voice trembled.

We didn’t talk about the song. Or the silence. Or the bruises we left on each other’s hearts. We just sang. Loudly. Badly.

He kissed me after Heroes. I cried after Space Oddity.

We were us again.

Not everyone understood it.

Nancy did, oddly enough. “You and Eddie… it’s not conventional,” she’d said, sipping her wine with that careful grace of hers. “But it’s real. Messy doesn’t mean fake.”

Steve was a bit more vocal. “Just don’t hurt each other, alright? I can’t keep playing emotional referee.”

And Robin, bless her, always rolled her eyes but secretly rooted for us. I saw it in the way she grinned when she caught us holding hands under the table.

We had good moments.

Sundays at the flea market. Him tucking daisies behind my ear. His lips on my shoulder after nightmares. Me tracing the veins on his arms while he played riffs I didn’t know the names of.

And then we had the not-so-good ones.

Like the time I accused him of flirting with a girl at The Hideout. He hadn’t. But I was insecure and tired and said something that made his face fall.

He left that night without saying goodbye.

Showed up three days later with a note that read: Still not flirting. Still in love with you.

So yeah. We’re chaos. Tangled sheets and tangled hearts. People call us toxic, dramatic, unpredictable.

Maybe we are.

But even in the worst moments, I never doubted Eddie Munson is the only person who has ever made me feel seen. Fully. Flaws and all.

It was chaotic, passionate, all-consuming. But it was us.

Robin once said, "You two are like fireworks and bonfires. Dangerous, but kind of beautiful if you’re not standing too close."

Nancy just sighed. Steve usually looked stressed.

But they got it. Sort of. We were Y/N and Eddie. That was just the deal.

We’d been broken up for exactly six weeks and three days the night of Steve’s infamous end-of-summer party. The weather was still clinging to August heat, and someone had stolen a keg from the Hideout. Most of Hawkins was drunk by the time the sun had dipped below the trees.

I wasn’t drinking much, nursing a red cup of watered-down gin and soda while I leant against the edge of the Harringtons’ pool. Robin was sitting cross-legged beside me, talking animatedly about a book she’d just finished, and Nancy was on her other side, flicking her straw at Steve, who was trying to light a barbecue that clearly hadn’t worked for years.

Eddie was somewhere. I knew that much. I’d seen him earlier in the evening, his curls damp from swimming, a drink in one hand and his eyes doing that thing they always did when they found me in a crowd: soft, then quickly guarded.

We hadn’t spoken all night.

And I wasn’t going to chase him. Not this time.

That’s when someone new wandered over.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, definitely from the football team. Maybe a year or two older. He smiled at me like he knew I needed a distraction, and maybe I did. His name was Ryan or Bryan or something equally Chad-like, and he was surprisingly charming.

I laughed at something he said. Not because it was funny, necessarily, but because it felt good to laugh. To be wanted. Not to be a constant storm in someone’s life.

He stood a little closer.

And of course, right on cue, I felt it before I even saw him. That shift in the air. That storm cloud energy that only Eddie could bring.

“Didn’t realise we were recruiting for the varsity date auction tonight,” Eddie drawled, sauntering over, his tone sweet but lined with venom. “Real classy, Y/N.”

My smile dropped.

Ryan-or-Bryan blinked. "Uh, I'm gonna go find my friends."

“Yeah, run along,” Eddie added with a mock-salute.

I stood up, heart pounding. "What the hell is your problem?"

Eddie’s jaw clenched. “My problem is you throwing yourself at every jock with a pulse. You really that desperate for attention?”

That stung. Deeply.

Robin, Nancy, and Steve had all gone suddenly quiet, pretending very hard to be engaged in other conversations. But I was already moving, grabbing Eddie by the wrist and dragging him around the side of the house, away from the crowd.

“Say that again,” I snapped, letting go of him when we were out of sight.

He crossed his arms. “You heard me.”

“Yeah, I did. I just wanted to make sure you realised how much of an arse you sounded like.”

He scoffed, looking away. “You love the attention. You always have.”

“And you always love coming back to me,” I shot back. “So obviously I’m not the problem here.”

That stopped him. Just for a second. Enough for me to see the flicker of hurt behind his eyes.

I hated fighting with him. But I hated being treated like a game even more.

“You don’t get to act like you own me when you were the one who left,” I continued, quieter now. “You’ve got this pattern, Eddie. You pull me in, make me feel like I’m everything, and then the second it gets hard or messy or real, you run. And I’m the one left picking up the pieces.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “I know.”

“Do you?”

He stepped forward, eyes searching mine. “I never stop loving you. Not for a second. That’s the problem. It’s easier to blow it all up than to risk losing you properly.”

My chest ached.

“You don’t lose me by letting me in,” I whispered. “You lose me by treating me like I’m disposable.”

Silence settled between us, heavy and fragile.

Then, slowly, Eddie reached for my hand.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said. “The back and forth. The push and pull. I want to try again. Really try. Not just when it’s easy.”

I looked at our hands, then back up at him.

“This is the last time, Munson. No more running.”

He nodded, a shaky smile tugging at his lips.

“No more running,” he promised.

And for the first time, I believed him.

We walked back into the party hand in hand. Robin gave us a knowing smile, Nancy elbowed Steve when he mouthed, "Again?" and everything felt just a little bit more right in the world.

Because that’s the thing about Eddie Munson and me:

We were always somewhere between in love and at war.

But love always won.

[zayne-s]

fourteen hundred hours

don't look at the timezones too closely, the idea of eddie on tour and leaving steve voicemails to wake up to in the morning was too cute to pass up ao3 link

"steeeeeve harrington."

eddie's sleepy voice rumbles away in steve's ear. there's no one else around so steve doesn't bother to hide his grin as he snuggles further under the blankets.

eddie chuckles, breathy and giddy, like he's telling a private joke. "good morning, sweetheart. well, morning for you. sun won't be up here for another–" there's a pause, then a shuffle, and steve can picture eddie rolling over in his hotel bed to look at the alarm clock even though he could just look at his phone, "–five hours, christ alive."

steve's grin turns gooey when eddie lets out a loud yawn into the receiver. he hears the sheets shifting and he has to reel his mind back in from the gutter.

"the boys say i'm stupid for leaving you all these voicemails," eddie tells him once he's comfortable. steve pictures them both laying the same way, facing each other. "they call me whipped every time i pick up my phone, but guess what, stevie?"

he pauses, like he's waiting for an answer.

steve can't help but to whisper back, "what, eds?" into the quiet of their bedroom.

"i miss you so much, sweetheart."

steve feels his heart jump to his throat so suddenly that he almost chokes on it. butterflies erupt in his belly and he can feel himself blushing. his lips wobble with the attempt to not make some embarrassing expression, even though he's the only one in the room.

it's been over a month since they've seen each other in person. photos of their teary eyed send off were still making the rounds on twitter and instagram—steve tucked into eddie's side at the check-in counter with their hands in each other's back pockets, them waiting in line at one of the airport restaurants because the flight was delayed so they had another two hour wait time. the fan video of them making out in a hidden alcove away from the band.

there's been facetime calls, but it doesn't replace the longing need to have eddie physically with him. to kiss him. to hold him. to bury his face in his neck and never let go.

"i don't think i tell you that enough, when i leave," eddie continues, his voice still soft and gravelly from lack of sleep and singing for three hours straight. "but i do. i'm so used to you being the first thing i see when i wake up that i get sad when i open my eyes and you're not beside me."

steve grips the blankets and lets out a pathetic whine, his chest tight.

"i miss holding your hand, i miss being able to kiss you, i miss hearing your laugh and seeing your smile." eddie sighs, deep and sorrowful, and it breaks steve's heart.

he wants to take his love's face in his hands and kiss him until he no longer sounds so sad.

"just fourteen hundred more hours and i'll have you back in my arms. call me after you listen to this, okay? i love you so much."

the voicemail ends and steve sits up, his bedhead wild and unruly. he taps out a message to chrissy asking for the next available flight they could put him on and sighs in relief when she says they can fly him out tomorrow night at the earliest.

mentally going over everything he needs to pack, steve falls back down onto the bed while his phone rings out on speaker.

"hey, babydoll."

at the sound of his boyfriend's voice in real time, a calmness washes over steve as he sinks back into the pillows.

"hi, baby. i got your message."

buy me a ☕?

[66kenobi66]

Vivziepop Can't Write POC

TW/CW: Racism, S/A mention

Surprisingly Vivziepop's work actually has more POC characters than I first realized. And all of them are...less then splendid.

Valkyrie

Valkyrie...poor, poor Valkyrie...

Forever cursed to sit in the back, shut up, and only stand up and contribute when her white savior girlfriend either royally screws things up or needs moral support.

I've spoken about my strong feelings on Valkyrie many times before in previous posts so I'll only really give one new shred of criticism I've realized: Making your main POC female cast member a former genocidal murderer who spent supposed years killing her girlfriend's kind is...a choice.

Emily and Sera

My biggest issue with Emily and Sera (especially Emily) is that you can hardly even tell that they're meant to be Black. Their skin is a weird dark grayish brown, their features are stock and bland (both of them lacking proper noses), and their hair is some puzzling mix of straight and poofy.

And the writing of them both is also unimpressive. Emily is a carbon-copy, stock "Bubbly young girl" archetype who never really does much other than sing and move around. She acts more like a piece on a chessboard than a character, simply moving and doing what the scene needs her to do. Sera on the other hand, is a personality-less stick figure who just kind of does things because...the plot requires it. Also, great move Vivzie! Making one of the main villains a Black woman who endorses genocide and has to act like a babysitter/manager to the loud, obnoxious, hate-spewing white guy. How progressive!

Velvette (Kind of?)

I...actually have no real words to say about Velvette. Which sounded like a positive until I realized the reason I had nothing to say about her is because she does nothing. Like, ever.

She just kind of stands around being annoying and ignoring her fellow Vee's whining fits and sex crimes. Jeez, uh...that argument between her and Carmilla was stupid, I guess?

Velvette: She sure is one of the characters of all time!

Valentino

Not even worth mentioning, you already know he's terrible.

Alastor/Husk

Oh dear god, Alastor...

Words fail me at how much of an insane fail both of these characters are. One is a offensive caricature of Voodou that would make Dr. Facilier roll in his grave, who's also somehow whiter than snow despite being half Creloe. And the other is a constantly complaining douche and a hopeless alcoholic, who has a whole song devoted to calling a sex worker a loser for being abused/not having a proper coping mechanism. Oh, AND he's enslaved by the other "Black" guy! HOW PROGRESSIVE 😀

Oh and Carmilla is there too, but I've been awake for too long and also have nothing to say about her :/