#plenty of snippets and fun facts to go around

[pearlypairings]

WIP Ask Game

List the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

Tagged by the lovely @talshiargirlfriend and @deadheaddaisy <3 sorry to be so delayed, been having a bit of a rough go of it lately~

I have endless WIP docs rn which is half my writer's block issue right now...figuring out what to focus on lol. Here we go:

charlies angels x ST ladies

ltli ch 6 (photocheer)

debating desire 2 ( enterprise: malcalas)

burnin' (cheertrick)

show me 2 (enterprise: tripol)

ch 10 aurelias (hellcheer)

avec amour de france (st: robin x french!OC)

robinhood au (steve x kali)

rustless heart (hellcheer polish folktale au)

coffee and contemplation (twin peaks x stranger things )

I literally could go on forever, but these wips were the most fleshed out already:)

Tagging without pressure: @empress-of-snark @krakoansam @chornayadrakoshig and whoever else wants to play <3 just tag me for fun so I can see your wips too!

[joelsrose]

Good Neighbours: Chapter 3

previous chapter

Uncle Ray had been talking non-stop about something while you ate your breakfast, the sound of his animated voice filling the kitchen. You nodded occasionally, only half-listening as you focused on your plate.

Between bites of toast, you caught snippets about fishing gear, tents, and the best spots to pitch a campsite.

Last week he’d managed to convince you to spend the weekend camping by the lake—a prospect you weren’t exactly thrilled about.

But how could you say no? Ray had been nothing but kind to you, letting you stay with him while you figured out work and life.

A sudden knock at the door interrupted his monologue. "One sec," he said, setting his mug down and heading toward the front door.

You took the moment of quiet to exhale, picking at the crust of your toast. Then you heard it—Ray’s familiar greeting, but it was the name that made you freeze.

"Joel!"

Your heart skipped, and your cheeks burned as the memory of your last encounter came rushing back.

The towel. The awkwardness.

The fact that you’d practically fled the house afterward, muttering to Sarah about feeling sick, just to avoid seeing him again.

Now, here he was, just on the other side of the door.

Your ears strained as their conversation carried into the kitchen.

"You and Sarah decide to come camping with us?" Ray asked, his voice chipper.

Your head whipped toward the door. Camping? Joel?

"Nah," Joel replied, his voice as steady and smooth as ever. "Sarah’s got somethin’ on this weekend, but I’m free if you’ll have me."

Your stomach flipped. He’s coming?

"Perfect!" Ray said with enthusiasm. "I’ll send you the details, alright? Gonna be a good time—just like old times."

You stared down at your plate, your appetite suddenly vanishing as you tried to process this new development.

The thought of spending an entire weekend with Joel—tents, campfires, and all—made your pulse quicken in ways you weren’t sure you wanted to unpack.

Ray returned to the kitchen, grinning as he clapped his hands together. "Well, that’s settled! Joel’s joining us for the weekend."

"Great," you said, your voice higher than intended. You cleared your throat, willing your cheeks to cool. "Should be… fun."

Ray didn’t notice your sudden shift in demeanor, too busy rattling off plans for the trip.

But as you sat there, nodding absentmindedly, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to survive the weekend with Joel Miller in such close quarters.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

"Alright, we got…" Ray trailed off, listing a seemingly endless checklist of items as you stood by his truck, Joel beside you.

Joel had greeted you earlier, his tone warm and sweet as always, but you’d been quieter than usual, offering only a shy smile in return.

The memory of your last encounter still lingered in your mind, making it harder to meet his gaze without your cheeks warming.

Ray suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his expression twisting into one of realization. "Shit," he muttered, looking up abruptly.

Both you and Joel turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"What?" Joel asked, his voice calm but curious.

Ray scratched the back of his head, his brow furrowed. "Forgot the tent stakes."

Joel glanced toward the truck, then back to Ray. "I can run to the store and grab some."

"Nah," Ray said, shaking his head. "Got plenty at the shop. Just slipped my mind."

He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully before snapping his fingers. "I gotta swing by there anyway—got somethin’ to sort out real quick. Y’all go on ahead."

"Wait, what?" you said, blinking at him in surprise.

Ray waved a hand as if to brush off your concern. “You go with Joel. I’ll be right behind you. No sense in all of us sittin’ around when you can get there a bit ahead and start settin’ up.” He was already moving. “It’s a two-person job anyway.”

Your mouth opened to protest, but before you could say anything, Joel turned to you with an easy shrug.

"Sounds good to me," he said, his gaze steady as it met yours, a flicker of amusement playing at the corner of his lips when he noticed your expression.

You glanced between the two of them, feeling cornered. "Yeah, okay," you finally said, forcing a smile you hoped wasn’t too strained. "That’s fine."

"Perfect," Ray said, clapping his hands. "I’ll be right on your heels’."

Joel gave a small nod, tossing his keys into his palm as he motioned toward the truck. "C’mon," he said, his voice steady but carrying a teasing undertone that made your stomach flip.

As you turned, his hand tapped lightly against your lower back—not firm, but just enough to nudge you forward, a playful gesture that felt oddly intimate.

"Chop chop," he added, his tone carrying a smirk you didn’t need to see to feel.

Your steps faltered slightly, the unexpected touch making heat creep up your neck. "Alright, I’m moving," you muttered, trying to sound unbothered even as your pulse quickened.

As you climbed into the passenger seat, the realization of the situation hit you fully.

It was going to be just you and Joel, alone in the truck, heading to the campsite together.

And by the way he settled into the driver’s seat, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he adjusted the mirrors, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t entirely oblivious to the tension humming between you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The truck rumbled steadily along the open road, the low growl of the engine blending with the soft twang of an old country song drifting from the radio.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow across the rolling landscape, the light spilling through the windows in soft streaks.

Joel’s hands rested easily on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping absently to the rhythm of the music, the motion so unintentional yet somehow captivating.

You tried to focus on the scenery, letting your eyes trace the endless stretch of fields and trees as they blurred past. Or you pretended to scroll aimlessly on your phone, though your grip tightened every time the silence between you stretched a little too long.

About thirty minutes in, Joel glanced over at you, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "You always this quiet, sweetheart?"

You blinked, caught off guard, and quickly turned your head toward him. "What?"

"Been sittin’ here, waitin’ for you to say somethin’," he teased, his voice low and smooth, like he had all the time in the world. "Thought you might’ve fallen asleep on me."

"I—no, I’m just…" You trailed off, fumbling for a decent response under the weight of his gaze. "Taking in the view."

Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little too knowing. "Uh-huh. That what you’re doin’? Seems to me like you’re avoidin’ lookin’ at me."

"I am not," you huffed, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, your voice carrying a hint of frustration—though more at yourself than at him.

Joel glanced over at you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hmm," he drawled, his tone laced with amusement. "Seems to me like you ran off the other day."

You blushed remembering the compromising position you had been caught in.

Is he seriously bringing this up?!

"I didn’t run off," you said quickly, shifting in your seat. "I just… wasn’t feeling well."

"Is that right?" he murmured, his tone dripping with skepticism. He turned his eyes back to the road, but you didn’t miss the way his lips quirked, like he was fighting back a grin.

"Poor baby," he cooed, his voice dipping lower, soft and teasing.

You froze, your eyes trained on the car window, a scarlet tinge painting your cheeks.

"Or maybe," he continued, his tone slow and deliberate, "you just got a little… embarrassed."

Your head whipped back toward him, your brows furrowing. "What? Why would I be embarrassed?"

Joel shrugged, the movement casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his eyes flicked over to you, sharp and knowing.

"I dunno," he said, feigning innocence. "Could’ve been the whole ‘caught-you-in-a-towel, dripping-all-over-my-kitchen-floor’ thing."

Your mouth dropped open, heat rushing to your face as you struggled to find a retort. "I—" you stammered, but nothing coherent came out.

Joel’s smirk deepened, and he gave a soft chuckle that was as maddening as it was alluring.

"C’mon now," he teased, his voice low and warm. "Ain’t nothin’ to be shy about, darlin’. Just thought it was funny how quick you bolted."

"I didn’t bolt," you snapped, though your voice was weak, your embarrassment only fueling his amusement.

Joel shook his head, his grin softening into something quieter, more thoughtful.

"Well, for what it’s worth," he said, his voice steady now, "I was makin’ pancakes for ya. Thought you might’ve stuck around long enough to try ‘em."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. The teasing edge was still there, but it was gentler now, almost like he was giving you an out.

Joel glanced at you again, his eyes warm but still glinting with mischief.

"Guess I’ll have to make ‘em for ya another time," he said.

Then, with a smirk that made your heart trip over itself, he added, "But next time, maybe try not to run off. Deal?"

You bit your lip, torn between mortification and the flicker of something lighter in your chest. "Deal," you muttered, your cheeks still burning as you turned back to the window.

Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and low, curling through the air like it was meant just for you. It tugged at the corner of your mouth, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile—just a little.

“Plus,” he said, taking a slow glance in the rearview mirror before shifting his gaze to you, “you’re pretty cute when you’re flustered.”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

When you arrived at the campsite, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks. You weren’t much of a nature girl—that much was certain.

Cities had always been your preference, with their buzzing energy, brunch spots, and chic rooftop bars. But this… this was something else.

The lake stretched out like a sheet of glass, its surface catching the blue of the sky above. Surrounding it were towering trees that seemed to stand guard, their branches swaying softly as their leaves whispered secrets to the wind. The ground was a tapestry of earth and scattered pine needles, dappled with shadows from the sunlight breaking through the canopy above.

The air was cool and crisp, brushing against your skin with the kind of freshness you didn’t realize you’d been craving. It carried the subtle, grounding scents of pine and damp earth, mingling with the faint, refreshing tang of lake water.

Somewhere in the distance, the soft chirp of crickets began to fill the quiet, a sound that seemed to amplify the stillness.

“Wow,” you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away.

Joel was already unloading the truck, you couldn’t help but glance over, your eyes catching on the way his broad shoulders shifted as he lifted a heavy pack from the bed.

The fabric of his t-shirt stretched across his back, damp in places where the heat of the day had taken its toll, clinging in a way that left little to the imagination.

His arms flexed as he slung the pack over one shoulder, the muscles in his forearms tightening as he adjusted the straps with practiced ease.

His hair was messy, a little damp from the heat, and as he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, you couldn’t help but notice the way his lips parted, exhaling a quiet sigh.

"You just gonna stand there or give me a hand?" Joel teased, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as you scrambled to grab one of the bags. "Right. Sorry."

The two of you worked together to set up camp, Joel guiding you through the process with surprising patience. His voice was steady as he explained how to secure the tent, his hands brushing yours once or twice as he passed you supplies.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, you were both seated on a log overlooking the lake, the golden-orange light reflecting off the water like fire.

You pulled your knees to your chest, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "This is beautiful," you said softly, almost to yourself.

Joel turned his head toward you, a small smile playing at his lips. "Yeah," he murmured. "It is."

You glanced at him and caught the way his eyes lingered—not on the lake, but on you. Your breath hitched, and you quickly looked away, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

"You come here often?" you asked, desperate to fill the silence.

Joel nodded, his smile turning wistful. “Used to. Sarah’s mom and I came here a lot when she was little,” he said, taking a swig of his beer he rummaged from the cooler earlier. “Sarah loved it out here.”

The mention of Sarah’s mom made you pause.

You hesitated, debating whether to ask the question lingering in your mind.

It felt like prying, but you couldn’t help yourself. "Is she… still in the picture?"

Joel’s expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes dimming just slightly.

He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze falling to the water. "No," he said simply, his voice low. "She, uh… found someone else when Sarah was about 8. Took off, never looked back."

Your heart clenched at the weight of his words. "Joel," you said softly, turning to face him. "I’m so sorry."

He shook his head, a faint, almost bitter smile tugging at his lips.

"Don’t be. Was a long time ago." He exhaled, his gaze far away now. "It’s just… you don’t forget, y’know? Even when you think you’re past it, some things stick with you."

You knew exactly what he meant—your own memories filled with pain, sorrow, and heartbreak.

You didn’t know what to say, so you reached out, letting your hand rest lightly on his forearm. His eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

"You’ve done a hell of a job with Sarah," you said gently, your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to rise. "She’s amazing. That’s all you."

Joel’s smile softened, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Thanks sweetheart’," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten.

Joel shifted beside you, his gaze fixed on the fading sunset, but there was a tension in his posture, a quiet hesitance that made your heart beat just a little faster.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and rough, like he’d been turning the words over in his mind.

“So, uh… you got a boyfriend or somethin’?” he asked quickly, following the question with another swig of his beer.

The question hung in the air, the weight of it surprising you. He didn’t look at you right away, his focus still on the water, but the way his fingers tapped lightly against his thigh betrayed his nerves. It almost sounded like it hurt him to ask.

You blinked, caught off guard. "Um, no. Not really." you said shaking your head at the thought of your ex.

Joel’s head tilted slightly, his eyebrows raising as he finally glanced at you. "Not really?" he repeated, his tone teasing but his expression curious. "Never heard of a relationship status like that before."

You laughed softly, bumping him lightly with your shoulder. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

His lips quirked into a small smile, and he leaned back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Well, I don’t. Enlighten me."

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your shirt as you tried to find the right words. "Before I moved here, I, uh… I had a boyfriend. But, um…" You trailed off, your gaze dropping to your lap.

Joel straightened a bit, his brows furrowing. "But what?" he prompted gently, his voice softer now.

"He cheated on me," you said finally, the words tumbling out quickly, like you wanted to get them over with.

Joel let out a sharp breath, his jaw tightening. "Shit," he muttered, the word carrying a quiet anger that made your chest ache.

"Yeah," you said, shrugging lightly. "So, guess that makes me single."

Joel nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the lake, but his silence felt heavy, like he was holding something back.

The quiet stretched between you until he spoke again, his voice low and deliberate.

"Stupid," he said, almost to himself shaking his head slightly.

You blinked, turning to look at him. "What?"

He met your eyes then, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense, like he was searching for something in your face.

"He’s stupid," Joel said, his voice firm, rough around the edges. "For lettin’ you go." He paused, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if the words had cost him something.

"For hurtin’ you like that."

The weight of his words settling heavily in the space between you.

The implication of it all—the care, the quiet anger, the way his voice seemed to carry something he wasn’t ready to say aloud—made your chest tighten and your head spin.

You blinked, caught in the haze of the moment, your breath hitching as his gaze bore into you.

There was something raw in the way he looked at you, something unspoken but unmistakable, and it made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.

His eyes dropped, lingering on your lips for a moment too long, and your heart stuttered in your chest. That’s when you realized how close you’d both leaned in, the space between you barely a breath now.

The world seemed to slow, the rustling of the trees and distant hum of the lake fading into the background as his gaze flicked back to yours, dark and searching.

Was he about to kiss you?

The thought sent a rush of warmth through you, your breath catching in your throat as you stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the smallest movement might break the spell.

But before anything could happen the bright sweep of car headlights cut through the twilight, lighting up the campsite like a sudden flare.

Joel blinked, his jaw tightening as he tore his gaze from yours and pulled back, glancing over his shoulder at the approaching truck.

"Hey, kids!" Uncle Ray called as he climbed out of the truck, his cheerful tone breaking the spell entirely.

Joel leaned back slightly, the moment slipping through your fingers, but his eyes flicked back to you for just a second longer, holding something you couldn’t quite name before he turned away completely.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The fire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows across the campsite as you sat quietly, listening to Joel and Ray talk.

Their conversation drifted between sports, old stories, and small-town gossip, but your mind wandered, the distant rustle of the lake’s waves blending into the comforting hum of their voices.

You rested your chin on your palm, idly toying with the s'mores—the one indulgence you'd packed yourself for this trip.

The flames danced before you, casting flickering shadows across the campsite, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but wish Sarah were here with you.

As much as you appreciated the stillness of the evening, the crackling fire, and the quiet, her energy—her easy, unfiltered laughter—would’ve been a welcome distraction. Anything to drown out the thoughts swirling endlessly in your head, thoughts you couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You took a small bite, the sticky marshmallow clinging to your fingers as you gazed into the flames, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

You yawned, covering your mouth with your hand, trying to be subtle about it.

But Joel noticed—of course, he noticed. His eyes flicked to you, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, soft and almost imperceptible.

She’s so damn cute, he thought, his chest tightening as he watched you across the fire.

You sat there with your knees tucked up, eyes heavy with sleep as you nibbled absentmindedly on your s'more, the firelight casting a warm glow on your face.

He let the moment linger, committing the image to memory—your sleepy gaze, the way the marshmallow stuck to the corner of your lip before you brushed it away.

Joel wasn’t one for sentimentality, but something about this, about you like this, hit him square in the chest.

And now, as much as Joel loved Ray, he couldn’t help the thought creeping into his head - Will he ever stop talking?

Joel’s attention kept slipping, his focus torn between Ray’s stories and the way your face looked in the flickering glow of the firelight.

The soft shadows danced across your features, and he found himself studying the curve of your cheek, the way your lashes rested lightly against your skin when you blinked.

You looked peaceful, and yet, there was always something behind your eyes—something quiet, something he wanted to understand.

He wanted to sit closer to you, feel the warmth of your presence just a little more intimately. He wanted to hold you like he had that other night, your body pressed against his, as if in that moment he could protect you from the things you didn’t say aloud.

He wanted to ask you about your life—about the things that made you smile, the things that weighed you down.

Joel swallowed hard, dragging his eyes back to the fire, trying to steady himself. But no matter how much he tried to focus on Ray’s words, his thoughts kept circling back to you.

It was frustrating, almost infuriating, how effortlessly you seemed to have carved out a space in his mind, a place he wasn’t sure he was ready to give, yet couldn’t seem to stop offering.

As if on cue, Ray let out a quiet groan, patting his stomach. "Whew, ate too much," he muttered under his breath before pushing himself to his feet. "I’m gonna call it a night. Thanks for settin’ up the tents, you two."

He turned to you, smiling warmly. "Bright and early tomorrow, kid. Got a full day planned."

You gave him a thumbs-up, your lips curving into a small smile. "Good night, Ray."

"Alright, good night, kid. Night, Joel," Ray called out as he made his way to his tent, the soft sound of the zipper pulling closed signaling his exit.

Now, it was just you and Joel, the fire flickering between you in the quiet stillness of the night.

Joel stood then, the movement drawing your gaze. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might be heading to bed, leaving you alone by the fire. A quiet pang of disappointment tugged at your chest, one you didn’t quite understand.

But instead, he stepped around the flames, his boots crunching softly against the earth, and lowered himself onto the log beside you.

The quiet weight of his presence settled warmly at your side, close enough that you could feel the faint brush of his arm against yours.

"Hi," he said softly, his voice low and quiet, like it was meant just for you.

"Hi," you replied, your voice just as soft, your lips curving into a small, shy smile.

"You gonna make me one of those?" he asked, nodding toward the s’more in your hand, his voice low and teasing. "

A laugh escaped you, light and soft as you tore your eyes away from him, reaching for the ingredients. "Only if you say please," you quipped, trying to keep your voice steady despite the warmth rising in your chest.

Joel huffed out a chuckle, leaning back slightly and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Please," he drawled, the word slow and deliberate, laced with just enough sarcasm to make you roll your eyes.

"Alright, alright," you muttered, assembling the s’more with shaky hands as you felt his gaze on you. It was infuriating how much you could feel his presence, how aware you were of every slight shift of his weight, every flicker of firelight dancing across his features.

When you finally handed it to him, his fingers brushed against yours, rough and warm, lingering for just a second too long.

He didn’t say anything at first, just took a bite, his eyes closing briefly as a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest.

"Good?" you asked, unable to hide the small grin creeping onto your face.

Joel opened his eyes, glancing at you with that familiar smirk. "Damn good," he said, his voice soft but still laced with that teasing edge.

But then his gaze shifted, his smirk fading into something quieter, more intense.

He looked at you now the way he had while you both sat by the lake—the same look that had made your breath catch, the same look that had made you think, for one charged moment, that he might kiss you.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand coming up to cup your face so casually it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest as his thumb brushed across your bottom lip, wiping away something you hadn’t even realized was there.

"You got some," he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges.

Your mind spun, your words failing you. "Oh," you said, dumbly, your breath hitching as his thumb lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

"Some chocolate," he clarified, his lips twitching in amusement at your reaction. His hand dropped, but not before he licked his thumb, tasting the chocolate he’d just wiped from your lip.

It was intimate—so much more than it should’ve been. The warmth of his touch lingered, the rough pad of his thumb still ghosting against your skin, and it had your cheeks blazing, heat spreading through you like wildfire.

You couldn’t look away, your gaze locked on his as your mind raced, struggling to process the charged moment that had just unfolded between you.

"There," he said, his tone soft but edged with a faint smugness. "All clean."

"Thanks," you said again, your voice barely above a murmur, feeling completely thrown off balance.

You stumbled over your words as you stood, nervously brushing off your hands. "I should—I should get to bed. Like Uncle Ray said—uh, big day tomorrow."

Joel tilted his head, the faintest glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked up at you. That same quiet confidence was back, the one that made your stomach flutter in ways you wished it wouldn’t.

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and warm, the words rolling off his tongue like a secret just for you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You lay in your tent, staring up at the dark fabric above you, every creak of the trees and gust of wind outside making your heart race.

Why did no one ever tell you how scary camping was? you thought, pulling the sleeping bag tighter around you.

Your mind reeled, replaying every horror movie you’d ever seen—axe murderers, wild animals, supernatural monsters. It was all crowding your thoughts, the darkness outside feeling heavier with every passing second.

“Shit,” you muttered, sitting up abruptly, your pulse hammering in your chest. At this rate, you weren’t going to get a wink of sleep.

Then you heard it. A twig snapping just outside your tent. Your breath hitched as you froze, every muscle tensing.

That’s it. You couldn’t do this anymore.

Without another thought, you bolted out of your tent, your bare feet crunching softly against the forest floor as you made a beeline for Joel’s tent, flashlight in hand.

The rational part of your brain told you to turn around, that this was ridiculous, but the panic gripping your chest had you unzipping his tent before you could second-guess yourself.

Inside, Joel lay on his side, his broad shoulders rising and falling steadily with each breath, his face softened in sleep. The sight should’ve calmed you, but your panic was still bubbling just under the surface.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, hesitating for a moment.

You didn’t want to wake him—this is ridiculous, you thought—but the howl of the wind outside made your nerves spike again.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He didn’t stir. His breathing stayed even, his face relaxed.

"Joel," you tried again, this time a little louder, leaning down and giving his leg a small shake. His brow furrowed slightly, but his eyes stayed shut.

"Joel," you hissed, shaking his leg a little harder now.

He groaned softly, shifting onto his back as his eyes cracked open, squinting at you in the dim light.

His voice was rough with sleep, low and gravelly as he mumbled, "What…? What’s goin’ on, honey?"

"I—" You hesitated, suddenly feeling absurdly childish standing there in your pajamas, barefoot and anxious.

What were you, five years old?

Joel sat up slowly, running a hand over his face to wake himself up. His brows furrowed, concern softening his features as his eyes locked on yours. "What’s wrong, darlin’?" he asked, his voice gentler now. "You alright?"

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I—I’m scared," you admitted finally, your voice small. "I can’t sleep. The wind, the noises outside, it’s just…" You trailed off, feeling the words catch in your throat.

Joel’s expression softened further, his eyes scanning your face. He didn’t laugh or tease; he didn’t make you feel silly for being afraid. Instead, he shifted to make space beside him, his hand patting the empty spot.

"Come here," he said softly.

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Come here," he repeated, his tone so gentle it made your chest ache. "Ain’t no reason for you to stay awake all night alone and scared like this. Get in here."

"I—" You hesitated, glancing at the small space and then back at him.

His eyes held yours, unwavering and soft, like he could see straight through your hesitation.

"It’s alright. C’mere," he murmured, shifting slightly as he stretched out his arm, creating a perfect space for you to slip into.

The gesture was so natural, so effortless, that it nearly took your breath away. His arm, strong and steady, formed a kind of haven, one that felt both safe and oddly intimate.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you stared at the spot he’d made for you.

"C’mon, darlin’," he coaxed gently, his voice dipping just enough to feel like a quiet promise. "Ain’t no need to be scared. I got you."

The sincerity in his tone broke through your hesitation.

Slowly, tentatively, you moved toward him, settling into the space he’d made for you. His arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close in a way that was firm yet incredibly gentle, like he’d done it a thousand times before.

This should’ve felt strange—you were pressed up against your neighbor, for god’s sake. But it didn’t. Somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. You tried to justify it to yourself—he was just helping you out, that’s all. But like this? In a way that felt so intimate, so unspoken?

"There," he said softly, his voice a warm murmur against the quiet of the night. "Ain’t nothin’ gonna bother you now. I’ll make sure of it."

You felt the tension in your body begin to melt as you rested your head against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing grounding you in a way that nothing else had all night.

The sound of the wind and the creaks outside faded into the background, replaced by the soft, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat.

"I know it’s silly. I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it.

Joel’s arm tightened ever so slightly around you, his hand brushing a soft, reassuring circle against your shoulder.

"Don’t apologize," he murmured, his voice low and steady, like the words were meant to wrap around you as much as his touch did.

His eyes closed, his breath evening out as he rested his head back against the pillow. "Just sleep, darlin’," he added softly, the warmth in his tone settling something deep inside you.

The way he said it, so sure, so unbothered, made your chest ache in the sweetest way. You nodded against him, your cheek brushing lightly against his chest, and let his steady heartbeat guide you toward rest.

Joel was right here, holding you like it was the most natural thing in the world—and for the first time in what felt like forever, it was enough.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Joel woke to the soft weight of you curled against him, your arm draped across his torso, your face tucked against his chest. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you—peaceful, unguarded, your lips parted in a soft pout, your quiet snores barely audible above the faint rustle of the wind outside.

His stomach twisted, a mix of warmth and something far more dangerous. What the hell was he doing? Twice now he’d woken up with you wrapped around him, and both times it had unraveled something in him he’d been trying so hard to keep tightly wound.

Joel’s eyes drifted over your face, the soft curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell in loose strands against your skin. You looked so damn comfortable, like you belonged there, and that thought alone was enough to stir something deep in his chest—a quiet ache that he wasn’t sure he wanted to name.

He sighed quietly, his hand resting loosely on your back as he stared up at the ceiling. This is the second time, he thought, his jaw tightening. Second time I’ve woken up like this.

He knew better. He should know better. This—whatever this was—it couldn’t happen. He was old enough, wise enough to keep his distance, to stop himself before it got to this point.

But here you were, soft and warm against him, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t seem to stay away.

His fingers twitched against your back, the warmth of your body seeping into him like you were something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? You felt too good, too easy, too right.

Joel let out a slow breath, his chest rising and falling gently under your weight. He should move—wake you, untangle himself—but he didn’t. Instead, he let his hand linger, the quiet intimacy of the moment too tempting to let go of just yet.

As the first light of dawn crept through the tent, Joel knew he was stuck—stuck in this limbo with you, caught somewhere between what he wanted and what he knew he shouldn’t have.

But for now, just for a moment, he let himself stay, because being wrapped up in you felt like the one thing he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You trailed behind Ray and Joel as the three of you hiked up the winding trail, the morning sun filtering through the canopy of trees above.

The air was cool, but the steady incline was enough to leave you breathless, your legs burning with every step. You were grateful Joel had gotten out of the tent first that morning, leaving before Ray could see the two of you together like that. You weren’t sure how you’d explain that—not that anything had happened, but still.

Joel walked ahead of you, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his shirt, the material damp with sweat that clung to his back. The sheen on his arms caught the light as he carried the pack effortlessly, his movements steady and unbothered, like the hike was a stroll through the park. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked—how natural he seemed out here, in his element.

"You alright back there, Miss Chicago?" Joel called over his shoulder, his voice carrying easily over the rustle of leaves and crunch of boots against dirt.

You gave him a look, narrowing your eyes as you panted. "Fuck you," you huffed under your breath, though it lacked bite.

You were a lot of things at the moment—sweaty, tired, slightly annoyed—but you weren’t going to let Joel know how winded you actually were.

Joel’s grin was quick and teasing, his eyes glinting as he slowed his pace just slightly.

"I’m fine," you huffed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "Don’t worry about me, Miller. I’m hot on your heels."

Joel turned fully this time, his gaze dropping to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought he might actually say something encouraging.

Instead, his lips curved into a smirk as he glanced back to make sure Ray was still ahead of him. Then, his eyes flicked back to you, and he leaned in slightly, mouthing, "Definitely hot."

He finished it with a quick wink, the teasing glint in his eyes making your stomach flip.

Your cheeks burned, and you looked away quickly, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. "You’re ridiculous," you muttered under your breath, though you knew he’d caught the blush spreading across your face.

Joel chuckled softly, turning back to the trail as if nothing had happened, but the faint curve of his smile stayed firmly in place.

You followed behind him, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the steep incline.

Your mind lingered on his words, definitely hot, playing them over like a loop you couldn’t quite shut off. Should you read into it? Probably not. But then again, waking up tangled together in his tent that morning wasn’t exactly nothing.

Something was there—you felt it every time he looked at you, every time his teasing remarks left you flustered.

Still, just because you were both single didn’t mean it was more than some harmless, shameless flirting. Right?

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as you finally arrived at your destination. Ray let out a satisfied sigh, shrugging off his pack as he took in the view. "Looks the same as the first time I got here," he said, his voice warm with nostalgia.

The lake stretched out before you, secluded and serene, surrounded by tall trees that swayed gently in the breeze. A tire swing hung from one of the branches, swaying lazily over the water’s edge. The sunlight danced across the surface, making it glimmer like something out of a postcard.

"Wow," you breathed, taking it all in.

"Worth the hike?" Joel’s voice came from beside you, low and teasing.

You turned to him, meeting his gaze, and smiled softly. "Definitely."

Ray didn’t waste a second. "I’m goin’ in!" he declared, pulling off his shirt with a laugh before running straight for the water. He launched himself in with an impressive cannonball, the splash sending ripples across the lake.

You laughed, shaking your head as he resurfaced, grinning ear to ear.

Joel leaned against a tree, his arms crossed casually as he watched you. "How about you?" he asked, his voice lighter now, but his eyes holding a flicker of something else.

Your mind flashed to his earlier comment, the one that had left your cheeks burning and your heart racing. Definitely hot. Maybe it was time to get back at him, just a little.

"Yeah," you said, feigning nonchalance. "Me too."

Before Joel could respond, you reached for the hem of your shirt and tugged it over your head, revealing the bikini you’d been wearing underneath.

Joel froze, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but no words came out. His eyes flicked down, then quickly back up to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw his breath hitch.

You furrowed your brows innocently, tilting your head at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "What?" you asked, your voice light and teasing as you reached for the waistband of your shorts. With deliberate slowness, you shimmied them down, the movement undeniably purposeful, knowing full well he’d notice.

Joel’s gaze flicked toward you before he quickly averted it, his jaw tightening as you folded the shorts neatly and placed them on a nearby rock, your every move radiating nonchalance. The corners of your lips tugged into a small, mischievous smile as you caught the faintest hint of color rising to his cheeks.

Joel blinked, clearly trying to recalibrate. "Nothin’," he muttered, his voice rougher than usual as he dragged a hand over his jaw.

You smirked, pleased with the small victory, before turning and walking toward the water’s edge. You didn’t miss the way his gaze followed you, though he tried to play it cool by pretending to adjust his pack.

As you stepped into the water, the coolness refreshing against your skin, you turned back toward Joel, who was still standing there, his expression unreadable.

"You comin’ in?" you called, grinning at him.

Joel tilted his head, his lips curving into a slow smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Yeah," he said finally, his voice steady. "I reckon I am."

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You followed Joel up to the tire swing, the soft crunch of dirt under your feet mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves overhead. He stood by the swing, holding the rope steady, his grin easy and teasing. "C’mon," he urged, motioning for you to step closer. "Ain’t as scary as it looks."

Joel went first, gripping the old tire swing like it was second nature. He turned to glance at you, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Watch and learn, sweetheart,” he said with a wink, and before you could even roll your eyes, he pushed off.

He swung out effortlessly, his strong arms flexing as he held on, and for a moment, it looked like he was flying, the sunlight catching on the water droplets clinging to his skin. Then, with a whoop that was both boyish and entirely too charming, Joel let go, plunging into the lake with a splash that sent ripples all the way to the shore.

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as he resurfaced a moment later, shaking water from his hair like a wet dog. He treaded water with an ease that made it seem like he belonged here, his grin wide and infectious as he tilted his head back to look at you.

“Alright, darlin’, your turn,” he called, his voice teasing but warm.

You stood by the swing, hands hovering over the rope as you hesitated. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at him.

Joel leaned back slightly, his arms moving lazily through the water to keep himself afloat, his movements effortless, almost hypnotic. His grin softened, melting into something gentler, more coaxing as his eyes locked on yours.

"C’mon," he murmured, his voice dipping lower, steadier, carrying a reassurance that made your chest tighten. "I won’t let ya get hurt, I promise."

You bit your lip, eyeing the swing skeptically. “I feel like I’m gonna look ridiculous,” you admitted, your cheeks heating.

Joel let out a soft laugh, his head tilting to the side as he watched you. “Darlin’, you couldn’t look ridiculous if you tried,” he said, his tone so genuine that it made your stomach flip. “Just grab on and let go. I’ll be right here.”

You glanced between him and the swing, nerves buzzing in your chest. “You better not laugh at me,” you warned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Cross my heart,” Joel said, grinning as he made the motion across his chest. "I’m right here," he added, his voice low and steady.

That got you.

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping you as you grabbed the rope. With one deep breath, you pushed off, the swing carrying you out over the water as your stomach flipped wildly. For a moment, it was like flying, the wind rushing past you, and then you let go, landing in the lake with a splash.

When you resurfaced, gasping and laughing, Joel was already there, the water rippling softly around him as he swam closer. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low and warm, his smile utterly intoxicating.

“Yeah, that was fun,” you said between breaths, your laughter still bubbling up despite the water dripping down your face.

His grin widened, a flicker of pride lighting up his eyes. “See? I told you,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “You gotta trust me.”

You smiled back, the heat in your chest having nothing to do with the exercise. “I guess I do.”

“Mhm,” he murmured, his voice softer now, his eyes holding yours for just a second too long, the space between you charged and undeniable.

You drifted lazily in the lake, the water cool against your skin, but all you could feel was Joel. He was close, his presence magnetic, his movements slow and effortless as he treaded near you. The sunlight played off his damp skin, the lines of his face softer but no less handsome in the golden glow.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hands brush against your waist, his grip steady and grounding as he pulled you closer. Instinctively, your hands found his shoulders, your fingers curling against the firm muscles beneath his warm skin.

The water rippled around you, but all you could focus on was the way his eyes locked on yours, intense and unguarded, like he was seeing something no one else ever had.

“Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft, uncertain, though it wavered under the weight of the moment. “We should go back…” you muttered looking over your shoulder for any signs of Ray.

“Shh,” he interrupted gently, his voice low and soothing, a quiet command that wrapped around you like the current itself. The sound of it made you fall silent, your breath catching as his hands steadied you in the water.

One rested firmly on your waist, grounding you, while the other splayed across your lower back, keeping you close, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a way that made your pulse quicken.

“Just let me look at you,” he murmured, his words soft but heavy, like they carried more weight than he was willing to admit. His gaze roamed your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes again, the intensity in them sending a flush of heat cascading through you.

You blushed deeply, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breath under his gaze. The world around you seemed to fade, the water, the trees, the sky—all of it narrowing to just Joel.

He leaned in slowly, his eyes dipping to your lips, and your heart raced as you let your eyes flutter shut, anticipation coiling tight in your chest. His breath was warm against your skin, his grip firm yet gentle, and you swore you could feel the moment stretching endlessly between you.

"Are y’all still by the swing?" Ray’s cheerful voice called out, loud and oblivious, shattering the fragile spell between you.

Your eyes snapped open, and before you could think, you instinctively pulled back, the sudden movement sending a small splash of water between you.

Joel let out a low groan, his hand dragging through his wet hair in frustration as he turned slightly, shouting back, “Yeah! We’ll head your way!” His tone was steady, but the edge of irritation was impossible to miss.

You were already making your way toward the shore, your movements quick and deliberate, your back turned to him. The air felt heavier now, your heartbeat racing as you tried to steady yourself, to push away the lingering heat from the moment that had almost been.

“Alright!” Ray’s voice called again, carrying easily over the water.

Joel stayed where he was for a moment, watching you climb out, droplets of water trailing down your skin in the glow of the fading sunlight.

Shit, he thought, running a hand down his face, his chest tight with the ache of longing.

Every second he spent with you seemed to unravel him a little more, his desire for you growing into something he wasn’t sure he could contain.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As you trudged down the trail toward the campsite, your eyes kept drifting to Joel’s broad back, his steady strides cutting effortlessly through the uneven terrain. Sure, you’d been drawn to him from the start, his rugged charm and shameless flirting throwing you off balance in ways you weren’t ready to admit.

But what had just happened at the lake—it felt different, like something had shifted. The memory of his touch, his gaze, lingered, warm and unsettling all at once.

A knot twisted in your stomach as the thought struck you: were you catching feelings for Joel?

The idea made your chest tighten, a mix of worry and something dangerously close to hope creeping in as you tried to shake it off.

As you continued down the path, your foot caught on something—maybe a root, maybe a loose rock—and suddenly you were falling. A sharp pain shot through your ankle as you hit the ground, your hands instinctively gripping at it. "Ah, shit!" you exclaimed, your voice tight with pain.

Within moments, Ray and Joel were at your side, their footsteps hurried and voices tinged with concern. "What happened?" Ray asked, his eyes scanning you anxiously.

You pushed yourself up slightly, your palms pressing into the dirt as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. The pain radiated like a hot wave from your ankle. "I think I—shit—I tripped over something," you muttered, your voice breaking slightly as the pain settled in.

Joel knelt beside you, his brows furrowed in focus. His gaze flicked to your face, softening when he saw the tears threatening to spill over. "I’m gonna press here, sweetheart," he said gently, his voice low and soothing. "You let me know if it hurts, alright?"

You nodded, biting your lip as he carefully pressed his fingers against the tender spot. A sharp hiss escaped you as the pain flared, and Joel pulled his hand back immediately, his jaw tightening.

"I don’t think she can walk down the rest," he said firmly, looking at Ray. "I’ll carry her."

"What?" you blurted, shaking your head despite the pain. "It’s not much further, Joel. I can—"

He cut you off with a soft but commanding tone. "It’s not much further, darlin’, but you’re not walkin’ on that until we get some ice on it. No arguments."

Ray hesitated. "You sure, Joel?"

Joel gave a small smirk, his confidence unwavering. "Piece of cake," he said, already reaching for your hand to help you up. He steadied you as you rose, your good leg bearing all your weight. His hand on your arm was firm, his touch grounding.

"Joel," you started, hesitating as embarrassment washed over you. "I might be too heavy—"

"Not a chance," he interrupted, his voice soft but resolute. "Now get on my back."

With a reluctant nod, you looped your arms around his shoulders as he crouched slightly. Joel’s hands found their place under your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing at all.

The trail back was mercifully smooth.

Joel carried you with a strength that felt almost unreal, his movements so steady and sure you barely felt the jostle of each step. The warmth of his back seeped through his shirt, an unspoken comfort that anchored you to the moment. Hesitant at first, you let your head come to rest against his shoulder, the fabric brushing against your cheek.

He walked as though your weight was nothing, his voice low and steady as he spoke to Ray. There wasn’t a single hitch in his breath, no sign of exertion, just the quiet cadence of his words blending with the crickets chirping softly in the underbrush.

"You doin’ okay back there?" Joel's voice rumbled, breaking the gentle silence. He tilted his head just enough to catch your gaze out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah," you murmured, though your cheeks flared with a heat you couldn’t quite shake—a blend of gratitude and something softer, more vulnerable. "Thanks, Joel."

He answered with a low hum, the sound laced with a teasing edge. "Told ya—piece of cake. Almost forgot you were there."

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

By the time you reached the campsite, Joel set you down carefully, his hands lingering just long enough to make sure you were steady on your good leg.

He gave you a small, crooked smile, his eyes holding yours for a moment before his voice cut through the haze of your thoughts. "You alright?" he asked softly, his hand steadying you as he helped you hop over to one of the foldable chairs by the fire.

His grip was firm but careful, ensuring you didn’t put weight on your injured ankle. Once you were settled, he crouched down slightly, still eyeing you with that quiet intensity.

"Yeah," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not as bad right now."

"Good," he said, straightening up, his tone matter-of-fact but tinged with something softer. "I’ll be back with some ice and Tylenol, alright?"

You nodded, watching him as he turned and strode toward the supplies. Your heart was still racing, and not just from the pain. Joel had just carried you down that hike—effortlessly, like it was nothing.

The memory of his arms around you, solid and sure, sent heat rushing to your cheeks. He was strong—so much stronger than you’d expected, and the thought left you flustered.

You bit your lip, your gaze lingering on him longer than you meant to.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

That night, you sat quietly by the fire, the soft crackle of the flames filling the cool night air. The logs had burned low, their glow dimming to faint embers that flickered and cast dancing shadows against the surrounding trees.

Your ankle, now taped up, felt manageable—the ice and Tylenol doing just enough to take the edge off the pain so you could move on your own if needed.

Ray stretched out with a dramatic yawn, breaking the comfortable silence. "Welp," he muttered, patting his stomach in satisfaction, his tone thick with exhaustion. "Gonna call it a night. Early morning and all that." His movements were slow and unhurried as he ambled toward his tent, tossing a casual "Goodnight, kids," over his shoulder before ducking inside, the zip of the tent flap marking his retreat.

Silence settled over the campsite, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the fading pop of embers. Neither you nor Joel spoke at first. The weight of the moment pressed between you, thick and unspoken, as the firelight flickered across his face.

When Joel finally stood, the motion was slow and deliberate. He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you—steady, searching—made your chest tighten. He tilted his head ever so slightly, a subtle gesture toward his tent, his expression unreadable but his intent unmistakable.

Your heart fluttered, skipping a beat as you hesitated for only a moment before rising to follow him. The distance between the fire and his tent felt both impossibly short and agonizingly long, the quiet stretch of night amplifying every step you took.

Inside, it felt impossibly small, the air thick with the quiet intimacy that seemed to hang between you. Joel had already settled on his side, his arm resting under his head as he watched you crawl in, his gaze soft and inviting.

You lay beside him, the warmth of his body pulling you in like gravity. It felt so natural, so easy, as you nestled closer, your hand resting lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips.

You didn’t even stop to question how strange this was—sharing a tent, practically cuddling with your neighbor, a man you’d met barely a week ago. But it wasn’t weird, right? This was because you were too scared to sleep in your own tent, wasn’t it?

He was just helping you out, being kind in his own quiet, steady way. That was all. Even if his arm was draped around you, pulling you close against his side, and his fingers were threading softly through your hair, lulling you into a calm you hadn’t felt in ages. Right?

“You’re warm,” you murmured, your voice soft and muffled slightly against his skin, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

“Yeah?” Joel replied, his voice low and quiet, the sound of it wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes fluttering shut as his arm slid around you tighter, pulling you even closer.

Joel chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, warm and soothing. “This better than last night, huh? No scary noises to worry about,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

His fingers trailed absentmindedly up and down your arm, the motion gentle and rhythmic, sending a comforting warmth through you.

You smiled against him, the memory of your panic almost laughable now. “No scary noises,” you agreed softly. “No axe murderer waiting for me.”

Joel laughed then, a warm, genuine sound that made your heart flip. He glanced down at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as your eyes met.

You grinned, your eyes glimmering with a soft, doe-like sheen, their glossy warmth catching the faint light and making you look impossibly endearing.

For a moment, everything felt weightless, suspended in the quiet intimacy of the tent. His gaze lingered on your face, tracing over your features as if committing them to memory, before dipping to your lips.

The air seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension. His teasing smile softened, his expression shifting into something deeper, more serious. His lips parted, and he muttered under his breath, so quiet you almost didn’t catch it.

“Fuck.”

Your smile faded, replaced with a small furrow in your brow. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice tinged with worry. A small part of you panicked.

What if he regretted this? What if you’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross?

“I—” Joel began, his voice catching as his gaze darted away for a brief, fleeting moment. He looked almost nervous, his lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a quiet sigh. “You do somethin’ to me. I—damn it, I don’t even know how to say it.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as you stared up at him, searching his face for answers. His expression was a storm of emotion, raw and unguarded, and for the first time, he seemed almost vulnerable.

"In a good way?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, your chest tightening at the way his eyes held yours. They were so steady, so sure, yet there was a fire in them that made your pulse race. His gaze flicked to your lips for a beat too long, like he was fighting a battle within himself.

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice soft but resolute. "A good way."

"Joel," you murmured, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea, unbidden, as though it was the only word you could find.

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as his thoughts raced. This might ruin everything, he told himself, but damn it, he needed you.

The way you looked at him, those soft, glossy eyes wide with uncertainty and longing, made it impossible to think straight. His gaze dropped to your lips again, this time lingering with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. It wasn’t just desire—it was something deeper, something raw and consuming.

He wanted you in a way that terrified him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked finally, his voice low and tender, almost hesitant, as though he was offering you every chance to stop this, to pull away. The vulnerability in his tone made your chest ache, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

"Kiss me," you breathed, the words spilling from your lips in a desperate rush, raw and unfiltered. You didn’t think—you couldn’t think. All you could feel was the tension crackling between you, the way his eyes burned into yours as though he was already memorizing every inch of you.

His lips were on yours in an instant, feverish and hungry, his hands cupping your face as if you were something precious yet utterly irresistible. His movements were urgent, almost frantic, yet there was a tenderness woven into the desperation, as though he was pouring every unspoken word, every pent-up feeling, into the kiss.

His calloused fingers brushed against your skin, the roughness a stark contrast to the softness of his lips. The texture grounded you, tethering you to the intensity of the moment.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands trembled slightly against your jaw as he pulled you closer. His kiss was unrestrained, unrelenting, his lips parting to taste you more fully. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a barely controlled hunger evident in the gesture, and a quiet, throaty sound escaped him—a mixture of longing and satisfaction.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a confession, and a plea all at once.

When he finally pulled back, his breaths came shallow and uneven, . "I’ve wanted to do this for longer than I should admit," he murmured, his voice husky and raw. His thumb brushed softly over your cheek, but his eyes flickered, betraying the intensity still burning within him. His gaze darted to your lips, swollen from the force of his kiss, then back to your eyes, searching for some unspoken permission.

And then he leaned in again, his lips finding your neck this time, moving with an almost reckless need. His kisses were sloppy, open-mouthed, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his teeth and tongue grazed your skin.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, holding him close as his lips lingered just below your jaw. He sucked lightly, enough to make your breath hitch, then harder, marking you in a way that sent a thrilling shiver down your spine. You knew you’d see the evidence of his hunger in the morning, and the thought made your heart race.

"Joel," you breathed, your voice trembling with need but steady in its conviction. His lips stilled against your skin, his head tilting to meet your gaze. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, stealing the air from your lungs as if he could see straight through to the ache building inside you.

"I want you," you admitted, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.

It was almost embarrassing how easily this man unraveled you—how just one kiss, one touch, had set you alight. Your cheeks burned at the realization, but the need to feel him, to close the aching gap between you, overpowered any hesitation. Your voice was soft but unwavering, laced with the weight of everything unspoken yet so desperately felt.

You felt his breath hitch against your neck, a quiet exhale that sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightened slightly, grounding you while tethering himself.

But he stopped you with a gentle shake of his head, his lips curving into a small, almost pained smile. A soft chuckle rumbled low in his chest, but it wasn’t mocking—it was tender, full of something unspoken yet profound.

"Shit, darlin'," he murmured, his voice low and warm, his hand still cradling your face as though you were something fragile. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the soothing touch making your chest tighten. "I want you too—more than you probably realize. But this…" He paused, his voice quieter now, steadier. "This ain’t how I wanna do it."

It took everything in him to stop. The way you whimpered his name, the way your eyes burned with unrestrained desire, had him teetering on the edge of his own resolve. Your soft, gasping breaths and the way your fingers clung to him ignited something primal, something he struggled to hold back. The tension in his body betrayed his words, the strain of his cock against his pants a glaring contradiction to the restraint he was forcing himself to maintain.

His eyes softened as his lips quirked into a small, apologetic smile. His hand moved gently, brushing a stray strand of hair back from your face. "You deserve better than… a tent on the floor," he said with a wry grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "When it happens—"

Your breath hitched at the weight of his words, the quiet certainty that hung in the air. "When?" you whispered, barely audible, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel nodded, his thumb grazing your bottom lip in a way that sent shivers through you. His eyes held yours, steady and full of something that made your pulse race. "When," he repeated, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Gonna do this right. You deserve that."

"Okay," you whispered back, your voice soft, your chest aching with the intensity of the moment.

Joel leaned in slowly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the touch warm and lingering, filled with a tenderness that made your eyes sting. "Now, go to bed," he murmured, his voice low and sweet, wrapping around you like a quiet command, like a promise.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Tag List:

@pedritospunk @ickearmn @nrreads @76bookworm76 @pastelpinkflowerlife @shantellorraine @spooky-sculder @merm4id5lut @brittmb115 @rosebuds-and-moonlight @joelscowgirl @spacemamax @locked-ness @bensonispunk @pal3rmo @mystickittytaco @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @rh1nestonecowg1rl @littlenicpascal @jsudsgf @addictedtothisyoungman

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi friends! I know it's been a while (over a month, woof), since I published a fic. Summer is a busy time for me - birthdays, social occasions, festivals, etc. And now I am heading off on holiday for a week. I have been working hard on chapter one of Fire on the Mountain whenever I have a free moment, and wanted to have it finished before I went away today, however, between working and trying to get myself packed and ready to leave for the airport, I've not had time and I didn't want to publish something hurried and low quality. It is very close to being finished, and will be my first priority when I return from my holiday (I will still be around, can't resist a snoop at Tumblr while poolside, I just won't be able to write)

Anyway, to tide you over, I leave you with the following snippet!

Header by my beloved recipient of sour cream and onion dust fingers, @vampire-exgirlfriend

Lia props herself up on her elbow, lying on her side as she watches Alicent carefully stitch delicate powder blue flowers into the fabric suspended within her embroidery hoop. Her own lies discarded beside her, she had given up when the thread had become knotted, in no mood to attempt to fix it.

“Alicent…” she begins slowly, “do you ever think about why your father wanted to bring you to King’s Landing?”

Alicent keeps her eyes upon her needlepoint, her tone matter of fact as she continues her work. “To instruct me in what is expected of a highborn lady.”

Lia huffs, leaning across and tugging Alicent’s sleeve to get her full attention. “Yes, but why?”

Alicent sighs, lowering her embroidery hoop into her lap, fixing Lia with an exasperated stare. “To give me the best possible opportunities in life, so that an appropriate match may be made for me.”

“And that is enough for you, is it? To simply be married off to a man who is not of your choosing?”

She lowers her gaze, her voice soft. “My mother did not choose my father, and yet they were very happy.”

“But is that what you want?”

“What is it that you are trying to get at?”

Lia hums, flopping down onto her back against the plush rug that they sit upon in the solar, clasping her hands across her front as she stares up at the vaulted ceiling. “I am unsure of my own purpose, what it is that I want.”

Alicent nods in understanding. “Well, there will be plenty of eligible knights at the upcoming tourney. Gwayne is going to be there, he is competing in the jousting.”

She scoffs, recalling the gangly boy of ten, a mop of hair the colour of rust, that they had left behind in Oldtown all those years ago. “Ah, yes, how fares your older brother?” She asks, turning her head to the side to look at her friend.

“He is a knight now,” Alicent says proudly, “and quite handsome too.”

“Handsome?! How would you know?”

“He tells me so in his letters.”

The pair burst into peals of laughter, stopping abruptly as Otto sweeps into the room, casting a disapproving glance at both of them. “Do the pair of you not have lessons to attend this afternoon?”

“We were waiting for Rhaenyra, so that we might all go together,” Alicent says apologetically, scrambling to her feet and smoothing the skirts of her dress down.

Lia rolls her eyes, knowing their fun is over and rises to her feet too, running her fingers through her dark curls, rumpled from having laid upon the floor.

“Well, the Small Council has concluded its business for the day, and with it Rhaenyra’s duties as cupbearer, so run along. Do not keep your septa waiting.”

“Yes, Father,” Alicent says quietly, making her way out of the solar.

Lia is about to follow suit, when Otto reaches out, softly grasping her forearm and halting her movements. “I trust you are behaving yourselves?”

“Always,” she says with a saccharine smile, moving to pull away from him.

He tightens his grasp. “The Princess is…spirited. Do not allow her to lead you or Alicent astray.”

She slips away from him, pausing once in the corridor to look back over her shoulder at him. “You have raised a well mannered young woman, Ser Otto. She will heed your wishes, I cannot say the same for myself.”

Full fic coming the beginning of September, otherwise you are free to beat me with your shoes.

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

Snippet Sunday

It's Sunday again and it's getting steamy in the public bath's dressing room. I'm a romance writer at heart, so these kinda scenes are so much fun to do

content warning: non-explicit nudity and non-explicit mentions of sex

Faro wastes no time in undressing, folding his clothes neatly and putting them in one of the open cupboards. The more skin he reveals, the more Sasha struggles to avert his eyes. It's what is proper, but Sasha can't pretend he's been raised like a gentleman.

No, when he looks at Faro here and now, naked and appearing almost human there's only one thought on his mind.

If he were just a pretty stranger in a bath house, Sasha would've taken him already.

Now all he can do is stare and hope Faro doesn't notice. Luckily he has his back turned to Sasha, so he drinks it all in, from the perfect musculature of his shoulder blades, braids loosely framing the curve of his spine, to the dimples near his hips that make Sasha's fingers itch with the desire to touch.

He's in trouble, he's in so much trouble.

"Sasha?" Faro looks over his perfectly defined shoulder, expression one of confusion. "Are you not going to bathe?"

"I am!" Sasha replies, his voice booming unexpectedly loudly in the near empty dressing room, "I mean, I will, just give me a mome-"

Faro walks out through the glass doors before Sasha can finish his sentence.

Briefly weak in the knees, Sasha sinks down on the bench and runs a hand through his hair, untying his greasy tresses from his loose ponytail.

He shakes his head, trying to untangle the knots from his hair and in his brain.

Why did he suddenly think such things about Faro of all people? He has seen plenty of people nude before, in and out of intimate encounters, but none of them affected him as much as Faro.

Perhaps it is the fact that he can't lean in for a kiss or wrap his arms around his waist that leaves Sasha pent-up and craving.

If he's fully honest with himself, it's also been a while since he slept with anyone. Usually he'd try to proposition at least someone in every town he visits, but ever since travelling with Faro there's been no time, or flirting with someone ends up with him tied up in ropes and not in a fun way.

Now that they're staying in this place for at least two weeks, there won't be a lot of new adventures to distract Sasha. Hence those pesky desires come crawling out of the woodwork and fixate on Faro.

Sasha breathes deeply in and out as he calms himself down. He tells himself over and over that it was a moment of weakness and he can't let it happen again, because nothing good will come from lusting after a God.

He rushes to undress himself and join Faro in the public bath before too much time has passed, lest he get suspicious of why Sasha is taking so long.

Taglist: @fromthenortheast, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @tracle0

[maylilithreign]

Hi Lovely!!

So I was going to ask about the one that you know I adore so instead I would like to ask about Kick at the Darkness.

Please tell me about this and maybe, if you feel like it, I would love to see a little snippet!

ily! <3333

oh gosh, hello and sorry it took me so long to answer.

Kick at the Darkness was the very first fanfiction I ever wrote. It came to me partially in a dream, and then haunted me for a good amount of time before I started writing it. I was interested in the very limited amount of lore in Stardew Valley about Yoba. And I became compelled to write a story about a farmer who is actually a demigod, and who loves the most down-and-out man in town. If I love anything, it's a love story about two people who are so crazy about each other they can't even breathe, and one of my favourite tropes is also "magical being/powerful entity and the love of her life...just some guy." 😂😂

So enter Elsbeth "Elsie" Wight, who is in reality the demigod Winter. Cursed by the son of Yoba (Alcis), when she rejected him in favour of a simple chicken farmer named Shane. Flash forward several centuries to their current selves now both living in Pelican Town. Determined to be together but always doomed to be torn apart. Blah blah blah, I'm mushy as fuck, so is this story.

Fun fact, I am not entirely thrilled with some of the directions I took in this story. But I still love it in all its flaws. So I plan to rewrite it completely at some point 💖

Here's a snippet from one of my favourite parts of the story, when Shane is injured in the woods, and carried home by the bear 🥰:

She wanted to slap him for making her worry so much. Instead, she flung her arms around his neck, neglecting to mention the bear completely. "I'm sorry, Els," Shane sniffed into her shoulder. "I got lost, and my phone died, and…" Elsie felt him cringe with pain, and she looked down. His ankle was really swollen.

"Your mate is hurt, Lady Winter. Bear walked as fast as he could." A talking bear didn't so much as phase Elsie at this point. If it were the bear from her dreams, she knew it was a friend and not a foe. So Elsie merely nodded, and squeezed Shane's hand. "Lady Winter needs more help from Bear?"

Elsie smiled at the kind beast, and patted its head. "No, you've done plenty. Thank you for bringing him home. I'll take it from here." She lifted Shane up, and slung him on her back. He groaned with pain before resting his head on her shoulder. "I'm going to take Shane to the clinic, Bear. Is there anything I can offer you for helping him?"

The bear snorted, and rolled back on its haunches playfully. "Bear can smell the maple syrup Lady Winter has in jars. Can Bear take one?"

Elsie beamed at it. "Of course. In fact, you can take three. Take the biggest ones. Right there." She pointed at the maple syrup she'd recently bottled and piled up in crates outside the shed. The bear made a happy huffing sound before ambling towards it.

"Thanks Bear," Shane said, his voice muffled by Elsie's shoulder. "Say hi to uh…the trees." He was starting to sound delirious, so Elsie waved at the bear.

The title of this fic comes from the song "Lovers in a Dangerous Time." It's written by Bruce Cockburn, but I prefer the Barenaked Ladies version.

When you're lovers in a dangerous time

Sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime

Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight

Gotta kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight

[parkitaco]

ok people. i really don't want to have to be saying this but i am once again being struck by the lack of etiquette in the byler fandom and just in current fandom in general so i just. have to say something ok

first off i'm gonna say that fandoms come from a place of love and i know everyone most people have good intentions and love their fic authors but the etiquette around fics and art and all that lovely stuff is,, how shall we put it,, literally nonexistent.

listen. i love writing fic. i love that people like reading my fics that's insane hello?? i love getting comments and kudos and getting messages from ppl who are excited about my future projects it's great!!!

that being said, when i receive messages asking when things will be out/comments on wip wednesday snippets asking if the fic is out yet/messages asking me to tag them when the fic is published, regardless of how good the intentions are it comes off as very demanding and doesn't make me feel good as a writer who is doing this Voluntarily and For Free.

fanfic writers do this for fun!! we are not machines, we are people with our own lives outside of fandom and those lives have to take priority most if not all of the time. this means that yes!! sometimes fics take a while to write!! sometimes chaptered fics take a while to update!! and guess what?? that is totally ok. fanfic writers taking their time is not a bad thing. it means they care and are taking their time to create quality content. it means that they are spending time tending to their real personal lives, which is a normal and healthy thing to do.

there are plenty of posts about why demanding faster updates is bad, and i think that's pretty common knowledge, but i want to talk specifically about these very enthusiastic comments/messages/etc because i don't think anyone means harm but the thing is that fic authors simply do not owe you anything. we don't owe it to you to let you know when a fic will be out, we don't owe it to you to tag you when it is, and we definitely don't owe it to you to provide information that you can easily find out for yourself. as a writer i'm already putting insane amounts of pressure on myself and receiving it from other people, even if that's not the intention, is just not a good feeling.

especially because much of this information is readily available to you!! while you may not be able to find out when a fic will be out (which is probably because the fic author doesn't know either), you are entirely capable of checking the timestamp on a post to see how old it was, then using a little thing called Critical Thinking Skills to determine whether it's likely the fic has been posted or not. if so then great!! most authors have their ao3 accounts linked somewhere on their blog page so YOU (yes, you!!) can go look for the fic on ao3!! if you don't find it, ao3 has a super cool feature where you can subscribe to an author, so you'll get an email notification whenever they post!! and while you're there, if you're truly desperate for something to read, you can always go through the fics they've already posted, and if you've read everything there already and/or they haven't posted anything yet, check their bookmarks and see if there's anything there you like!! and as a last resort, there's always the trusty old search bar on ao3, which you are capable of filtering to every last preference!! the byler fandom is huge and there are tons of fics out there so undoubtedly something will fit your taste.

i know that can feel daunting, and i know it's disappointing when a fic hasn't been posted or updated yet, but the good news is that if you're seeing a snippet it means the author is working on it!! a little patience never hurt anyone, and taking those steps to determine for yourself what's going on with the fic rather than bugging an author who is just trying to go about their life and work on content during whatever free time they have just proves that you care. the simple fact of the matter is that fic authors don't do this for attention, they do it for fun, and therefore we can't cater everything to you or answer questions that you should find the answers to yourself. it's not our responsibility to keep track of people who want to be tagged when a fic is published or want to know when it will be out, because all our energy is going into creating the content you so desperately want!! i'm just begging everyone to be a little bit independent. asking an author for this information just shows you don't care enough to find it for yourself and this sort of laziness is part of why fandoms die.

tldr: fic authors are not machines designed to please you, use some critical thinking once in a while, and please for the love of GOD just go touch grass. breathe some clean air. you'll feel better i promise

[snarkythewoecrow]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Thanks @underwaterninja13 for the tag! 💙💙

it's rare I'm tagged when I have some new stuff and have spare time to post, but today I do! Which means you're all getting a little treat, especially since if I counted I bet this would be closer to like 10 or 12 sentences idk

This snippet is from the mpreg!Buck story I've been working on forever now, current word count is around 20k, the pairing is buddie, strangers/one night stand leading to enemies to eventual lovers, hurt/comfort galore and many tropes, some supportive firefam, as well, oh and also consider yourself tagged if you want to do it, in fact, don't ever wait to do cool things, life's too short, just have fun ❤️❤️❤️

“I know it’s not easy, but please, kid, you and that pup you're carrying don’t need all this extra stress—you’ve got enough on your shoulders, so how about you just let me and the rest of the pack watch out for you for a change?”

The banging got louder. His eye twitched. “For the record, I hate this.”

“Trust me, you’ve made that plenty clear, but just try to relax, go answer the door. You know I’d be there instead if I could, but for now, just think of this as me, checking on you, through him, alright?”

The knocking stopped, the silence heavenly on his nerves, which previously had been vibrating under his skin with every rap against his door. Except, just as he began to smile, the noise started again, rattling through his bones.

His molars creaked as he ground them together. “Yeah, you through him, mhm, sounds great,” he said, then as the knocking got louder, he shouted. “Oh my god, give me two fucking seconds!”

“Buck,” Bobby chided through the phone. “Be nice.”

He made fake mouth static. “Sorry, I think we’re losing connection, call you back.” Then he hung up, heading for the door.

[writing-through-the-snow]

Diodeshipping pet shelter au snippet 2

Since Clemont is forced to fulfill volunteer hours in order to graduate he is forced to spend a portion of his time after school every day volunteering at some lab named Professor Oak’s Ranch against his will. Along the way he becomes friends with Ash, the recent transfer student who got into Lumiose Prep on a track scholarship. Who also turns out to have the hobby of training animals to compete in obedience and agility competitions, and is trying his hardest to befriend the grumpiest, most destructive cat Clemont has ever seen, named Pikachu. This leads to Clemont gaining a group of friends, a new hobby, and maybe even a crush. 

____

The shelter has been a complete flurry of activity as the three girls work to update all of the posts on the shelters social media, apparently there was an adoption event coming up and the shelter needs those posts to draw people to it. 

And Clemont's school life has definitely gotten better, now that they all had a common interest, he, Ash, and Serena talk a lot more in school. Becoming actual friends. 

It's been really nice for Clemont, to actually have close friends. Though he's definitely not as close with Serena as he is Ash. 

Ash is just a lot of fun, and when they aren't at school, or the shelter, Clemont finds himself thinking about Ash very frequently. Maybe he'll see a stray animal that he just knows Ash would have lured close to pet it, and be best friends with after just five minutes. Or maybe he’ll see a particular math problem that he knows Ash will ask about the next day, knowing what Ash struggles with in math, and start thinking about how he'd teach it to Ash. Or maybe he'd be working on a new project, and he wouldn't be able to stop a smile blooming to his face as he thinks about what Ash would say about it. 

And given that they spend almost every day at the shelter together (Clemont has even started going on his off days, just to help out,) and they've taken to sitting together in classes and lunch, Clemont has had a lot of time to get to know Ash. And he enjoys it. 

Not only that, but he enjoys the shelter in general. It's just such an opening place, and he's gotten to know plenty of the animals and people. 

He never expected he would start going to the shelter on afternoons he wasn't scheduled, trading his technology for the animals and people. But he's glad for it. 

And Serena was nice, he enjoyed her company. 

Though, Clemont eyes Ash and Serena from across the room as they talk, Serena's cheeks were completely red as she laughs just a little too hard at a joke Ash makes, aren't they just a little too close? 

Clemont shrugs it off. He knows Serena has a crush on Ash, it's the worst kept secret in the school. And literally everyone including Pikachu clocked her crush as soon as she entered the shelter. Everyone except for Ash that is. He's somehow the most oblivious person in the world. 

Though he's found that the crush has gotten a lot less amusing as time goes on. 

He doesnt get why, it's just a little weird to him. His gut would churn whenever he would see Ash and Serena talking quietly with each other when they got a quiet moment between all of the preparation. He was usually just as busy as everyone else now that he knows the ropes of the shelter, no longer following Ash around as closely. So he does the exact same with Ash and Serena whenever he gets a moment of peace with either of them. So he doesnt get why it's so weird for him to see it with Ash and Serena in particular. 

Just something about it makes Clemont feel a little restless, maybe it's the way Serena's eyes light up when she looks at Ash, eyes full of admiration and joy. Maybe it's seeing how she obviously tries to dress up a little for these shelter visits, despite the fact that dressing up doesn't make sense for an animal shelter where youre gonna be active and dealing with slobbery and dirty animals. 

It's not like Clemont didn't expect to see that sort of stuff from Serena, but for some reason it just feels… off to him. 

He doesn't really get why, so he tries not to focus on it much. 

He only really has the time or understanding on what was going on while talking with his little sister, as she watches a cartoon. 

He's trying his best to understand what's going on, but the plot is so weirdly complicated that he doesn't get what's going on. 

“Okay, I give, what's going on?” Clemont asks, looking at the screen, Bonnie sighs loudly, rolling her eyes and pausing the show. 

“Why is she acting like that?” Clemont asks, the main character was acting weird, whenever she saw two of the other characters talking, getting too close she would barge over and think of an excuse to break them up. And she just got really weird whenever one of them expressed interest in the other. 

“Okay, so Flora likes Draco,” Bonnie spells out to her older brother, pointing to two of the characters on the screen. 

“Okay…” Clemont prompts. 

“Draco likes Nanami,” Bonnie continues, “and Nanami used to like Colin, but she's starting to also like Draco.”

“And Colin likes Flora.” Bonnie finishes explaining. 

Clemont tilts his head as he looks at the screen, paused as Flora looks uncomfortable and restless as Draco and Nanami get closer. 

“Then why is Flora acting like that?” honestly it kinda reminds him of how weird feeling he gets when Ash and Serena get close like how Draco and Nanami were. Maybe Flora just doesn't like seeing all of that weird love stuff shoved in her face. 

Bonnie looks at him like he's dumb, “it's because she's jealous of Nanami. Duh.” 

Bonnie rolls her eyes and continues playing the show. Honestly he would be a little offended if he wasn't too busy thinking about what Bonnie just said. 

Was he jealous? Of what? Of his two friends talking to each other? Even though it's obvious Serena has a crush on Ash and is trying to work up the courage to make a move. And maybe Ash might have a crush back, though Ash is a little hard to read for Clemont. 

Is he jealous of that? Is he jealous of Ash for Serena having a crush on him? 

That feels weird, and wrong. 

He doesn't want to feel that way, isn't that pretty shitty of him to be jealous of his closest friend? 

Oh god, does he have a crush on Serena? Clemont feels so wrong for it, and he can't stop the face he makes at the idea. 

But it does make sense for why he feels so restless when he sees Serena and Ash too close. It's just weird to feel this way for Serena. 

Clemont tries desperately to not think about it, even though he can't stop feeling a little unusual whenever he's around Serena and Ash now. He doesn't want to get in the way even though he, ugh, has a crush on Serena. 

And he would feel terrible if he got in the way of Ash and Serena liking each other. But even then, Ash is still Clemont's closest friend. And even though he feels so terrible about having a crush on the girl Ash might like. But his worries tend to fall away quickly whenever it's just him and Ash. 

But he can't stop from feeling a little uncomfortable when it's just him and Serena. Is that because of the crush? Or because he feels bad about being jealous? Clemont doesn't know. 

Clemont looks up from his blueprints as he notices Ash flop into the seat across from him with a groan. 

“What's wrong?” Serena asks, looking at a sullen Ash sitting across from them. 

“Im dangerously close to failing chemistry,” Ash groans, “if I do fail I might get kicked off of the track team and thus the school. And mom isn't letting me go to the shelter until I get my chemistry grade up.” 

Clemont looks at Ash concerned, “what about the upcoming event? If you can't train the animals what would they do?” 

“I'm not sure.” Ash huffs, crossing his arms and putting his face into his arms. 

“I could help tutor you!” Serena offers quickly, her cheeks a little red as she looks at Ash. 

Clemont frowns, his gut churning again. He can't stop himself from speaking, if only to get the feeling to stop. …and it's better for the shelter too, after all if Ash can’t train the pokemon then they have less of a chance of being adopted. 

“Aren't you also not doing very well in chemistry?” Clemont asks, looking over to Serena. He's pretty sure she's teetering on a C herself. 

Serena deflates, realizing that Clemont was right. 

“Then what about you Clemont, you're super good at it right?” Ash asks, looking at Clemont with wide, pleading eyes, “could you help me?”

Clemont looks away, knowing he can't make a good decision when it comes to those big brown eyes. 

But he quickly finds that the little defense he had, not having enough time for his inventions, felt weak at the idea of going to the shelter and not seeing Ash there. 

And he agrees. 

So just like that, he agreed to tutor his crush’s crush. And his best friend. 

But he won't regret it, not when he sees Ash's beaming smile. 

They decided to study immediately after school, today Clemont didn't have to volunteer for the shelter, and even though he usually would go anyway, without Ash there Clemont wasn't as excited. 

So they head to Clemont's house to study, his father shouldnt be home until later, and Bonnie has her shows running tonight so she should be pretty quiet. 

They get to Clemont's empty house and try to get a few hours of studying in, since Bonnie wasn’t home from school yet. 

“No Ash, AG isn't gold, it's silver on the periodic table.” Clemont corrects, setting the flash card down into the wrong pile. The pile was much larger than the correct pile. At this point, Clemont has changed into more comfortable clothes then his school uniform, and Ash has abandoned his uniform jacket on Clemont's desk chair. Even as the two have migrated from the desk to Clemont's bed.  

Ash groans, flopping onto Clemont's bed and jostling Clemont a little with the movement, as he was also on the bed. 

“Hm.” Clemont frowns, trying to figure out how to explain chemistry to Ash without confusing him more. Maybe he could find a song online to do it? But Ash has no sense of rhythm. What would be helpful to a guy whose entire life revolves around animals? Maybe he could get the animals at the shelter to represent parts of the periodic table? But how would he show that in a way Ash could understand. 

Clemont huffs, massaging his nose a little. As much as Ash isn't good at chemistry, Clemont is even worse at teaching it to someone. 

Maybe Serena should have taught Ash instead. Clemont thinks a little bitterly, she always seems to be so good at the things he's not. 

Clemont flops onto the bed as well, lying next to Ash. 

“Ready to get back into it-” Clemont starts to ask, turning his head to look at Ash. Only to find him dead asleep. 

Clemont can't stop the snort that bubbles in him at seeing Ash so peacefully asleep, they were supposed to be studying. 

But Clemont does not move to wake him up, he just can't find the will to. Ash has been stressed lately, he has not directly said it per say, but Clemont can tell. Between their exams at school, competitions in track, and getting the shelter ready for the adoption event, Ash has been more than a little busy. He's been working extra hard at the shelter to get all of the animals trained so they can show off their tricks at the event. Pikachu has even been on its best behavior and letting Ash train it. 

But that means Ash has been doing a lot in the past few weeks, maybe a little too much. 

So Clemont just lets Ash sleep, instead of waking him to go back to studying. Ash needs a break. 

Clemont smiles softly as he sees how relaxed Ash is, practically melting into the bed. Ash is turned onto his side, facing Clemont his hand half opened half way between him and Clemont. Clemont can feel Ash's soft and slow breaths on his cheek. His messy hair falling across his face as his mouth is slightly parted in his sleep. Clemont notices small freckles he normally can't see from any farther back on Ash's face, barring the weird squiggly mark lines on Ash's face. 

He wonders what they were, are they just weird freckles? Or a birthmark? Or somehow matching scars? 

Clemont nearly reaches out to touch Ash's cheek, just to feel it, but he freezes just before he touches Ash. 

That's weird right? Touching his best friend's face while he's asleep. 

Isn't staring at his best friend's face really weird too?

Clemont pulls back his hand, tucking it close to his chest. 

He's being so weird right? Like this isn't what normal people do when they have best friends?

Clemont can feel his heartbeat against his hand, fluttering and quick. And his face feels warm, like it does when he's embarrassed. 

What's going on with him lately? 

Clemont turns to face towards the ceiling, still lying on the bed next to Ash. A frown firmly on his face. He adjusts his glasses, having been pressed uncomfortably in his face when he laid on his side. 

Clemont chews on his cheek, thinking. 

Why'd he have to have a crush on Serena. Of all people. 

What changed now? Sure they've gotten a little closer now that the two of them both are pretty passionate about the shelter, but other than that nothing has really changed. 

She's always been pretty, but Clemont never really thought it was really a big deal. At first he thought maybe she just wasn't his type. But if he has a crush on her then maybe she is? 

She's objectively pretty but he never feels all of that fluttering feeling, butterflies in his stomach, ‘wow’ feeling when it's just him and Serena. 

He guesses that while he understands she's objectively pretty, she's not his type of pretty. 

Clemont turns his head to look at the still sleeping Ash. 

Not as pretty as he's found Ash is, at least. 

His face grows warmer at the thought, but it's true. He tries not to think about it much, but Ash is really pretty. 

He doesn't know when he realized it, but it was obvious when Clemont thought about it. 

His messy hair is the perfect amount of messy to not look completely ridiculous and unkept, but cute enough that Clemont doesnt think he could see Ash with neat hair. And Clemont can feel a warm gooey feeling in his stomach whenever Ash smiles at him, whether it be a brighter than the sun smile, or one of Ash's softer smiles. He's found that it's impossible to not smile back when Ash gives him one of his smiles, especially the softer smiles. The ones where his eyes look so warm and his eyes crinkle, and he almost always tilts his head slightly as he smiles. But he also can't help but smile when Ash gives one of his beaming smiles, especially because it almost always is followed by physical contact of some type. Whether a clap on the shoulder that sometimes knocks Clemont off balanced if Ash is a little too excited. or Ash reaching over to ruffle Clemont's hair, usually making both of them laugh, even if Clemont feels his face growing a little warmer at the embarrassment of his hair being all messed up. Or a half hug, where Ash slings an arm over Clemont's shoulder to pull him tight against him. So close Clemont can feel Ash's wild hair tickling against his neck, no doubt his hair is doing the same against Ash's neck. And their cheeks are practically smashed together. 

Clemont doesn't get it. 

Why does he feel like this?

He's fairly certain this wasn't just what you felt for a best friend. 

Well, he doesn't have anything for comparison but still. 

Is he really jealous of Ash? And did he really like Serena? 

Because he doesnt think he likes Serena that way, Bonnie tried to explain what love felt like to him. Even though she only knew love from the cartoons and stories she read. 

The elated, butterfly feeling has just never been something Clemont has felt with Serena before. But he did feel it constantly with Ash. 

And he's certain he did feel jealousy when he saw Serena looking so flustered around Ash, but was it really because he liked Serena?

Clemont glances back at Ash, and suddenly realization clicks. 

Oh. he doesn't like Serena. At least not like that.  

The reason he feels so jealous when Serena looks flustered around Ash was because he liked Ash. 

It immediately makes more sense to Clemont than him having a crush on Serena. He laughs as he thinks about how wrong he was. 

This is why he sticks to inventions, rather than feelings. He'll leave the feelings to Ash and Bonnie. 

Liking Ash makes so much more sense to Clemont. After all, Ash is his best friend. He loves spending time with Ash, be it studying together, working at the shelter, or just hanging out. And when they aren't together Clemont finds that he thinks about Ash all of the time. 

Clemont replays Ash's laughter in his mind, finding that he can't stop the smile coming to his face even when he's just thinking about Ash's laughter. 

Yeah, he has a crush on Ash. 

Clemont can't wipe the smile off his face even as his eyes start to droop against his will. He turns over onto his side, to face Ash again. 

He really, really likes his best friend. Clemont acknowledges looking at Ash's hand in between them. With confidence Clemont has never felt before he reaches out and places his hand on top of Ash's. His hand twitches as he does, but it quickly relaxes as Clemont melts into his bed. 

He likes his best friend, and it feels so right to Clemont. 

____

Clemont doesn't know when he drifts off to sleep, but when he wakes up the setting sun was drifting through his window. He looks around his room to see the still abandoned study materials on his desk and flashcards strewn around his bed. Clemont rubs at his eye, noticing Ash is missing from the room.

Did he go home?

Clemont sleepily stumbles out of his room, his clothes rumpled. He only slept for an hour or so, Bonnie should be home by now. To be honest he's surprised she hasn't broken down his door in demand of her afternoon snack. He should probably get started on that, but as soon as he opens the door he hears Bonnie's loud giggles and a familiar voice talking to her. 

Clemont frowns questioningly before he turns the corner to get into the living room and he spots his little sister… and Ash. 

Bonnie was currently using Ash as her own personal playground climbing over him as he lets her. He lets her mess with his hair, a plate of what looks like apples sitting nearby. Occasionally Bonnie will dart away from Ash to shovel an apple slice or two into her face before darting back to continue braiding Ash's hair. A cartoon of Bonnie’s was booming in the background, from what Clemont remembers its My Little Ponyta, Friendship is Magic. Bonnie has a beaming smile on her face and Ash smiles at whatever Bonnie is rambling about, adding his two cents here and there. 

Clemont blinks, stumbling a few feet closer and drawing Bonnie's attention. 

“Clemont! Look at how I did Ash's hair!” Bonnie proudly shows off what she's done to Ash's hair. 

Poor Ash had chunks of his hair braided, sticking up in random directions, a few strands here and there pulled back by Bonnie's bright hair clips. 

Ash gives him a sheepish grin only adding to how cute he honestly looked. Clemont can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in him. And soon he's doubled over laughing making Bonnie squawk in offense. 

“Hey! What are you laughing about!?” Bonnie asks, outraged. Clemont laughs harder, hands on his knees as he wheezes. 

When Clemont finally catches his breath he looks up to see Bonnie crossing her arms, very irked and exasperated. Ash is just giving him a grin, not nearly as embarrassed as Clemont would be in this situation. 

Bonnie huffs, turning back to her apple slices and chomping on them. 

“So I guess the two of you met while I was asleep.” Clemont gives a half grin and Bonnie perks up again nodding. 

“Yeah!” Bonnie hops on her toes, Clemont notices Dedenne and Luxray in Ash's lap. Luxray looking more relaxed in Ash's lap then Clemont has ever seen it be with a stranger. Figures. “You didn't tell me you were bringing a friend over,”

“Well, I wasn't expecting him to stay this long.” Clemont shrugs, nudging Ash with his shoulder as he plops down onto the couch next to him. 

“Yeah, sorry for falling asleep while we were studying.” Ash sheepishly apologies, scratching the back of his neck. 

“It's fine, I know you've been working hard between exams and the shelter.” Clemont shrugs, besides, he fell asleep too. 

Clemont glances over at Bonnie, he kind of wished he was there when these two met, but it seems like they hit it off quickly. Like he was sure they would. 

Clemont glances at the apple slices Bonnie was eating and tilts his head squinting. 

“What are on those apples?” Clemont asks, it looks like they had dark spots. 

“Oh Ash made them for me!” Bonnie squeaks, bouncing on her toes as she shoves one of the slices in Clemont's face. He pulls back, not particularly wanting to be slapped in the face with an apple slice. He reaches up to grab the apple slice, adjusting his glasses as he looks at it. Instead of being cut into the eighths like Clemont usually does for Bonnie, it was cut straight through the middle, a bit of peanut butter on it and used to give chocolate chips something to hold onto. The chocolate chips were used to make two little eyes on the slice, with the peanut butter being neatly placed to create a little mouth and whiskers. Two little pieces of apple cut into ears and attached using more peanut butter. The apple slice was a little mouse. 

Clemont smiles at the apple slice, looking up at Ash impressed. No wonder Bonnie seems to like Ash so much. 

“Isn't it so cute!?” Bonnie asks loudly, eyes practically sparkling. 

“It is,” Clemont agrees, handing it back to Bonnie so she can bite into it and turning to Ash, “you made that? How?” 

“My mom taught me when I started being left home alone when she had to work late nights, so that when I made them I would think of her.” Ash explains and Clemont thinks that's really cute. Thinking of a young Ash, watching carefully as his mom taught him to make animal looking apple slices. A young Ash that had just as much enthusiasm for animals as he does now, and just as caring. 

Clemont leans over Bonnie to get a better look at the apple slices to find a couple other animals on her plate. There were of course plenty of mouse slices, which makes sense considering Bonnie's favorite animals were mice. But from what Clemont could see there was a cat, with spots to look like Luxray and Pikachu, a dog, and a bird. All decorated to look cute and with attached apple slices for the ears and for the bird, wings.  

“I don't think I could eat one of those, they look too cute,” Clemont grins at Ash. 

“It took my mom two years to get me to eat one of those, because I would burst into tears every time she gave me one to eat.” Ash chuckles and Clemont snorts. Somehow Clemont can see that clearly. 

“I think Ash's snacks beat out yours Clemont.” Bonnie says with a snarky grin. 

Clemont snorts, rolling his eyes, “then I guess Ash better come here after school every day just to personally make you a snack.” 

“You would!?” Bonnie shrieks excitedly, whipping her head to ash, Clemont shakes his head with a laugh. 

“I was joking, I'm sure Ash has better things to do than to come here after school everyday.” Clemont shuts down before Bonnie gets too excited. 

Ash tsks, shaking his head, “I don't know, I think Luxray here would miss me too much to not visit every once and a while.” 

Ash gestures to the very comfortable Luxray in his lap, who was purring. It took Clemont weeks for Luxray to get comfortable with him, of course Ash managed to do it in less than an afternoon. 

“Oh yeah, what's Pikachu gonna do if it knows you've been seeing other cats?” Clemont snarkily grins and Ash blinks, his face draining of color. 

“Pikachu is going to kill me.” Ash realizes. 

“And you were getting so far with it, all that progress down the drain.” Clemont tsks, shaking his head disappointedly. 

Ash groans, leaning back on the couch. 

“My Little Ponyta is back on!” Bonnie squeals, hopping back onto the couch in between Clemont and Ash. 

“So which ones your favorite Ponyta Ash?” Bonnie asks, Ash smiles softly down at her and hums, like he was genuinely thinking it over. 

“I like Flamesky,” Ash says, “I like how she takes care of all the animals.” 

Bonnie hums, nodding. Before looking at Clemont with narrowed eyes, Clemont raises an eyebrow, trying to figure out why she's looking at him like that. 

“What about Ember Glimmer? What do you think about her?” Bonnie asks, Clemont tilts his head. That's not Bonnie's favorite Ponyta, her favorite is Blazeflash, the tomboy one. Ember Glimmer was the main character and a bookish type. Why would she ask specifically about Ember Glimmer?

“I think she's really smart, and interesting to watch.” Ash actually sounds genuine. Clemont wonders how many episodes Ash has been forced to watch with Bonnie. 

Though Clemont can't help but be glad Ash is tolerating Bonnie's antics, even going along with her. Watching the show at least enough to know that Flamesky takes care of animals, and the Ember Glimmer is a bookworm. And letting Bonnie mess with his hair, some of the braids are starting to come loose, but Ash hasn't made a move to take out any of the barretts in his hair. 

He cares a lot about his sister, and he knows she can be a bit much at times. But he's glad her enthusiasm doesn't bother Ash, like he's sure it would have if Ash was any other person at school. 

Clemont doesn't bother to hide his staring at Ash, as Ash is too busy entertaining Bonnie and watching the cartoon to look over at Clemont. 

He was incredibly relieved Ash and Bonnie got along, he expected it but he wasn't expecting it so quickly. He thought either Bonnie would be a tad protective of Clemont, after all he's never brought a friend home before. Or she would embarrass Clemont and Ash would feel uncomfortable. Or the two of them would be best of friends. One thirds shot. 

But he was glad it worked out this way, that the two seem to enjoy eachothers company, and Clemont can slot in with them perfectly. 

The banter felt perfectly natural, and Clemont could see thanksgiving, or even christmas morning with Ash in their little family perfectly. Ash and Clemont would be sitting next to each other, maybe a little too close for just being best friends. Sharing a chair or even just being close while sitting on the floor, their shoulders jostling each other with every movement. Bonnie would be close by, excitedly filling the room with her chatter, Ash responding back and forth, with Clemont occasionally adding a comment or two here and there. But most content to let Ash and Bonnie fill in the silence. Never feeling like he has to awkwardly continue the conversation or fill in the gaps. 

He bets his father would like Ash's kindness and enthusiasm. And Clemont bets his father would love to have Ash over for dinner, his first friend. Even if his father didn't know about Clemont's… feelings, for Ash. Even as weird as thinking that is, it still feels right. 

Everything with Ash feels right. The way Ash so naturally fits in with his family, some of the most important people to Clemont. 

Clemont feels so warm when he sees how comfortable it was. He would love for this to go on forever. 

Bonnie squeaks as she rushes out of the room, “I gotta show you my new stuffed animals!” 

“You know how dad feels about running in the house.” Clemont calls after her, shaking his head when Bonnie just pops around the corner to blow a raspberry at him and continuing to run. 

He looks back at Ash, sharing a smile with him only to stare a few beats longer than normal. 

“Got something on my face?” Ash tilts his head and Clemont shakes his head. 

“Just admiring that beautiful hair style.” he grins, and Ash nods seriously. 

“I know, I look great,” he agrees and Clemont laughs. 

He looks over at Ash, his smile softening. 

“You look very pretty, Ash.” Clemont says genuinely, though Ash doesn't take him seriously. 

“Thank you, I know,” Ash says very confidently. 

Clemont smiles at Ash, pulling his legs up onto the couch to wrap his arms around. The two of them just pause, for a long second, staring intently at each other. 

Clemont doesn't know what it means, or why. But he doesn't care to question, just enjoying the moment. Before Bonnie comes barreling back into the room and the moment is broken. As Ash's attention shifts back to Bonnie as Bonnie excitedly shows Ash her stuffed animals. 

They end up being on the couch as they watch My Little Ponyta, stuffed animals placed on the couch to watch with them, the apple slices slowly running out. Bonnie shifts from rambling about My Little Ponyta to animals, with Ash sharing stories about the animals at the shelter. And eventually back to Bonnie's other favorite cartoon Legend of Flora. Apparently the love polygon was resolved, with, plot twist, Nanami and Flora liking each other and starting to date. 

Clemont didn't see it coming, but he also doesn't tend to watch the show much. 

Eventually though, Ash checks his phone and realizes the time. 

“I should get going before mom gets home from work.” Ash says, making both Clemont and Bonnie pout. Ash looks at them and laughs, shaking his head. 

“The two of you are so similar!” he chuckles, making both Clemont and Bonnie blink. 

They've never been described as similar before. 

“Really?” they both question. 

Ash shrugs standing up, “sure. You both have the same passion for the things you like, and it's pretty obvious how much you care about each other.”

“I don't think we've ever been called similar before.” Clemont says, standing up as Ash collects his stuff to walk him to the door. Bonnie shakes her head, a calculating look on her face as she looks between Ash and Clemont. 

Clemont eyes her, a frown on his face. She's gonna do something, isn't she? 

Ash pops out of Clemont's room, his backpack over his shoulders and ready to leave. 

“It's been nice coming here,” Ash says genuinely, tilting his head to smile softly at Clemont. 

“Yeah, we should do it again soon. At least until your chemistry grade is brought up.” Clemont agrees, trying to will his stomach to not turn to mush as he looks at Ash's smile. 

Bonnie narrows her eyes at Clemont. 

Clemont leads Ash to the door before Bonnie pops in front of Clemont to stare at Ash with narrowed eyes. Ash blinks down at her. 

“You and my big brother are friends, right? Like best friends?” oh god where is she going with this. 

“Yeah?” Ash nods, looking up at Clemont questioningly. Clemont has no idea where she's going with this either. 

“Good.” Bonnie nods, “then listen up!” 

“Clemont is the best big brother, but he's not that strong!” Bonnie please don't do this, Clemont silently pleads. 

“So you've gotta be strong for him!” Bonnie declares, Clemont feels his face growing warm and feeling mortified, “you gotta stand up for him when he wont! You gotta be interested in what he likes, even if you think it's weird! And you gotta keep him company when me and papa can't!”

“Bonnie…” Clemont whines but both Ash and Bonnie pay no attention to it. 

“I promise I'll take care of Clemont,” Ash agrees, leaning down to be the same height as Bonnie, “at least as long as he lets me,” Ash says, peeking up at Clemont with a half smile. 

Clemont smiles a little back, even though he still feels a little embarrassed. 

Bonnie stares at Ash for a long moment, as if to assess if Ash is being genuine. And to his credit, Ash does look genuine. When Bonnie seems to decide that that's good enough for her, she beams brightly before running off to continue watching cartoons. 

Clemont watches her run off as Ash stands back up, and he turns back to Clemont. 

“I'm sorry about-” Clemont tries to say before Ash cuts her off. 

“I found another similarity.” Ash says, a soft smile on his face. 

“Oh?” Clemont blinks, wondering what Ash could have seen out of that mess. 

“Your smiles,” Ash points to his own, “they're both super cute.” 

Clemont freezes, anything he was going to say completely fleeing his mind as he processes what Ash just said. 

“Ah.” is all Clemont can say, Ash grins at him one last time, before waving as he turns and leaves the house. 

“See you tomorrow Clemont!” Ash says cheerfully, and walks down the street, even though by now it was dark out. 

“Bye Ash.” Clemont finally manages to say, even though by that point Ash had disappeared from sight. 

His cheeks are bright red and he can't help but smile like a fool. 

Apparently his smile was cute. Ash thought his smile was cute. 

He doesn't even bother to hide his goofy smile as he walks back into the living room, plopping back onto the couch next to Bonnie. He doesn't even notice Bonnie staring at him with calculating eyes. 

Bonnie changed the channel to watch the next episode of Legend of Flora, but Clemont doesn't pay it much attention. Just putting his elbow on the arm rest and hiding his smile in his hand. 

He lets the cartoon fill the silence of the room, Bonnie for once deciding to stay silent. Luxray yawns from its spot on the couch and climbs over Bonnie's lap to lie on Clemont's lap now that Ash is gone. 

Clemont softly scratches Luxray behind the ear, before he feels his phone buzz in his pockets. 

He pulls it out to see a text from Serena. Clemont tries not to grimace at the idea of talking to Serena. Now that he knows he doesn't have a crush or Serena but Ash, he doesn't know if it'll feel awkward around her. 

He hopes it's not, even though he's sure he'll have to sit through a rant or two from Serena about how much she likes Ash. Reminding him of how little of a chance he actually has with Ash. 

Because while Serena is certainly the most obvious with her crush, she's far from the only person in school who likes Ash. 

Clemont can't blame them, afterall Ash is funny, charming, and quite pretty. At the surface level that would be enough to make someone fall. Even though Clemont fell for Ash's compassion and enthusiasm for everything he did. 

Still, Clemont gets why someone would have a crush on Ash. Believe him. 

He figures he's fine with just being Ash's best friend. because when half of the school has a crush on Ash, why would he go for Clemont?

He checks the message from Serena and is relieved when he finds that it isn't about Ash. Instead she texts excitedly about how they finally figured out a photo to put online for Pikachu. 

Pikachu has been less than cooperative at the photoshoots to update the social media for the upcoming adoption event. No matter how much Ash and the girls try, Pikachu refuses to sit down for a single photo. And when they do, Pikachu is either blurry, or glaring so viciously that it would scare off anyone who would want to adopt it. 

They need a somewhat decent picture for Pikachu before the adoption event, Pikachu just needs to cooperate a little. 

He raises an eyebrow and responds back. How'd you get Pikachu to cooperate if Ash wasn't there?

Serena responds back quickly. we didn't, we just found a photo from one of our shoots that we think would be good.

Then she follows it up with a photo. When it loads Clemont blinks at it. 

Pikachu was standing on Ash's shoulders, Ash smiling brightly at Pikachu. Clemont remembers this, this was when Pikachu managed to finish the obstacle course for the first time and Ash was so incredibly proud. Pikachu in the photo was looking downright fond at Ash and was more relaxed then Clemont has seen from Pikachu when it's anywhere other than by Ash's side. 

Clemont smiles at the photo, and he saves it before he could even think about what he's doing. 

“Whatcha looking at?” Bonnie asks, leaning over to look at Clemont's phone. He lets her see the photo and she shifts to look at Clemont with narrowed eyes. Clemont raises an eyebrow at her, what's with the look?

Bonnie turns back to her cartoons and Clemont shrugs, turning back to his phone. They stay like that until Luxray perks up and Clemont hears the lock on the front door start to jiggle. He puts his phone away (which shifted from texting Serena to Ash, Ash complaining about not getting to see the shelter animals. Pikachu has probably rioted by now.) as Bonnie leaps to her feet, running up to the door to hug their dad as soon as he makes it through the door. 

“Ooh!” Meyer says as he's immediately tackled by Bonnie, but he returns the hug easily, like he does everyday. 

Clemont gives a small wave from over the couch and his dad smiles back. Clemont turns back to his phone when he feels it buzz, Ash responding to the joke Clemont made. 

“How was school?” Meyer asks. 

before Bonnie can burst out with enthusiasm Clemont calls out “it was good!” knowing that if he didnt Bonnie would talk over him. 

“It was so good!” Bonnie says excitedly, “the teacher picked me to read my story out loud, and I saw a bird during math, and-” 

Clemont tunes out the rest of Bonnie's rant, but keeps his fond smile as Bonnie excitedly retells her day. 

“Oh! And Clemont brought a friend over!” Bonnie says excitedly, making Clemont look up again. 

“He's really fun! He watched cartoons with me, and told me stories about animals he's seen, and made me apple snacks!” Bonnie cheers, bouncing on her toes. 

“Really, a friend?” Meyer asks, looking up at Clemont. 

Clemont nods, and oh god is his dad tearing up?

“I'm so proud!” Meyer sobs, reaching over the couch to bring Clemont in for a bone crushing hug. 

“Dad!” Clemont whines, “it's not a big deal!” 

“Of course it's a big deal!” Meyer insists, hugging Clemont tighter, “my baby has a friend!”

“Dad…” Clemont whines, though he can't keep a smile off his face, even as his father sobs. 

“Hey dad…?” Clemont and Meyer hear Bonnie start, and Meyer pulls back from hugging Clemont to look at his youngest. 

“Can boys like other boys? Like a boy liking a girl?” Bonnie asks innocently, Clemont can't help the choke and jerk of the shoulders as Bonnie asks that. He can barely stop the embarrassed squeak that tries to escape his lips. 

How did she know!? Was he that obvious?

Meyer slowly blinks, looking closely at Clemont's reaction before turning back to Bonnie. 

“Well, yes. Some boys like other boys instead of girls. And that's perfectly fine.” Clemont can't look near his father, his face flaming red, embarrassed. 

“Why?” Meyer asks, “did something happen today?” He asks, more in Clemont's direction then Bonnie, even though his oldest is looking firmly in the opposite direction. 

“Flora and Nanami in my show Legend of Flora started to date. And I was wondering if the opposite could happen.” Bonnie shrugs, and Clemont can't help the sigh of relief. She didn't know. 

Bonnie walks off, content with the world. Like she didn't just nearly give Clemont a heart attack. 

She leaves Clemont and Meyer there, Clemont just wants to curl up into a ball. 

Meyer and Clemont just stay still for a few seconds, before Meyer awkwardly pats Clemont's shoulder. 

“You know… if you or Bonnie ever decided you were gay that's fine right?” his dad says, quite awkwardly. 

“Okay!” Clemont says, standing up abruptly. 

“Thanks dad, I've got homework!” he says as he races out of the room and into his own. Leaving his dad there to make dinner. 

He crashes onto his bed as soon as he gets into his room, not caring for the flash cards still scattered on the bed that he crushes. Instead he just groans into a pillow, his face burning red from embarrassment. 

Great. So his dad probably knows about his little realization. And Bonnie probably also does, even if she hasn't quite fully connected all of the dots. She will soon. 

“Ugh!” Clemont groans. Why is he like this?

Clemont looks up, pouting. Only to catch a glimpse of a navy blue jacket that definitely wasn't his. Because his navy blue jacket that was a part of his school uniform was currently hung up on the hook on the back of his door, for him to grab when he leaves for school in the morning. And this one was on the back of his desk chair. Sitting there innocently. 

Ash must've forgotten his jacket, as he abandoned it pretty early into their studying. Clemont reaches out to grab it off his chair, moving to fold it so he could bring it back to Ash tomorrow. 

He runs his hand over the shoulders of Ash's jacket, smiling at the claw shaped holes left by, no doubt, Pikachu. As Pikachu is the only animal allowed on Ash's shoulders. A couple of the birds have tried, from what Clemont has seen, but Pikachu chases them off quickly. Ashs shoulders are Pikachu's property and it refuses to share. 

Clemont notices himself smiling like a goof, and he groans, burying his face into Ash's jacket. 

Yeah, he definitely likes Ash. 

Him and like half of the school. 

Fuck. 

[tracingpatternswrites]

The Patchwork of Us | Chapter 4

Can you tell that I'm struggling to stick to my "one chapter a week" schedule? Sorry not sorry.

Anyway, we're celebrating the fact that I've started on the final chapter by posting chapter 4.

Remus is answering some of Teddy's questions, and then he and Sirius has an important conversation. Are they finally starting to trust each other a little?

Read from the beginning on AO3.

Snippet below the cut:

It had been nearly three weeks since their visit to the play centre, and Remus was surprised to find that things were moving forward a little faster, and a lot better, since then. He had been worried that their exchange would put them back on square one, but it had rather been the opposite.

Maybe Sirius was feeling guilty about how he’d jumped to conclusions, maybe he was just in a good mood. Remus didn’t care either way, he wasn’t complaining. He had got more alone time with Teddy, and things between himself and Sirius felt less tense than earlier. 

He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he felt as if Sirius was making more of an effort than he had been before. He wasn’t quite as rude and occasionally and he even took his time explaining things to Remus that he simply wouldn’t have bothered with before. It helped, because it made Remus feel more relaxed around both him and Teddy, and the more time he got to spend alone with him the more secure he felt in their relationship. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. Especially now that Sirius was on his way over with Teddy as the boy would spend a night at Remus’ place for the first time. He had been to visit before, short periods, rarely more than a couple of hours. This was different though, and Remus felt as if he was nothing but a tangle of nerves as there was a knock to the door. 

“Hi,” he greeted nervously as he opened the door and found Sirius and Teddy on the other side. “Come on in.”

Teddy had a stuffed toy in the shape of a dog underneath one arm while Sirius was carrying his backpack. He saw Sirius’ gaze shift around the flat from where he was standing in the doorway, and Remus tried his best to clamp down on the little surge of embarrassment as he thought what this flat must look like in comparison to Sirius’ house. 

Sirius never commented on it, but of course he was just as aware of it as Remus himself. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the flat, it just wasn’t very big. It was clean though, Remus was careful about that, and it was plenty of space for him when he was alone. It did feel crowded now though, with the spare bed he’d bought and already made in preparation for Teddy’s arrival.

“Oh cool !” Teddy darted past him towards the TV. “Did you get a PlayStation?”

“I did, yeah,” Remus admitted, glancing at Sirius, and he didn’t know why he was feeling as if he owed the other man an explanation. “I thought it could be fun.”

“I need to get going,” Sirius said, as if he couldn’t care less about the PlayStation, and he handed Remus the bag. “Will you be okay?”

“I think we’ll manage,” Remus said, glancing at Teddy who was already rummaging through the games he had bought.

“Great. Call if you need anything, alright?”

“Sure,” Remus nodded.

“Bye, Ted,” Sirius called out, the boy waving absently at him from the sofa, and Remus felt a little thrill of satisfaction at how at ease the boy seemed considering it was the first time he would spend the night. “Well, okay. You’ll drop him off tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yeah, around fourish.”

“Great, see you then. Bye.”

Remus closed the door behind Sirius, making his way over to where Ted had spread out the games in front of him.

“See anything you like?”

“Is this one fun?” he asked, pointing at one of the games and Remus shook his head.

“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it yet, but the guy in the shop recommended it. Wanna give it a go?”

“Yes,” Ted replied eagerly, shuffling forward.

“You’re probably better at setting that up than I am. Should I get us some snacks?”

“Okay,” Teddy said brightly, grabbing the remote as he turned the television on.

Remus was both relieved and a little surprised at how well the evening went. They played PlayStation for a bit before heading outside and Teddy got to pick their dinner for the evening. Remus had considered cooking but then he thought takeout would feel more like a treat, so they had gone to the chip shop at the end of the street.

After dinner they played some more video games before Teddy first phoned Sirius to say goodnight and then picked a movie to watch together. Remus was a little bit worried when bedtime came around but Teddy still seemed fine, even when they got as far as to turn off the light. Truth was that Remus thought he had fallen asleep until he suddenly spoke.

“Remus?”

“Yes?”

Silence stretched for a moment before Teddy spoke again, but Remus didn’t want to rush him.

“Do you have a mum and dad?”

The question took him a bit by surprise.

“I do, yeah.”

“Where are they?”

Continue on AO3.

[babygurltash]

:O empty hourglass sounds feelsy, what's up with that? :D

empty hourglass is my favorite among my own longfics! It's for Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn, specifically Ikesoren, and it's basically a canon continuation fic that picks up right at the end of RD 😁 I've been working on it on and off for a few years now - I'm currently on chapter 12 and have been for... some time.

Fun fact: the title comes from a topic the fic has only lightly touched on so far, but that will be crucial to its eventual conclusion: Ike's human lifespan compared to Soren's significantly-longer one 👀

Snippet from chapter 12 below the cut!

Soren pinches the bridge of his nose, but even in the soft light of the moon and stars, Ike can clearly see that he’s failing to keep a smile off his face. He squeezes Soren’s hand.

“I know there’s plenty to worry about,” says Ike, “but let’s not. Just for now. Okay?”

And Soren’s eyes reflect the sky as he says: “Okay.”

They make their way to the spot where the water darkens, coming to a stop right before the sudden drop. The deeper water is a mirror lit up with starlight; Ike watches it for a moment before deciding he can live with carrying wet clothes. He steps over the underwater ledge and kicks his legs to stay afloat, letting go of Soren in the process.

Much to his surprise, Soren just secures his hair above his neck and steps into the deep end.

“This is nice,” Soren says after a moment.

“Yeah.” Ike floats on his back. “Good thing you came with me.”

“Into the water?”

“On this whole journey.”

“Ah.” Soren clears his throat. “That was never really in question for me. If you had specifically asked me to stay behind, I might have considered it, but…”

“You mean I didn’t persuade you?”

“Not as such.”

Ike gets his legs back under him, dipping his face into the water to wash off some of the desert dust. He considers swimming a few laps around this end of the pool. The water is a welcome relief they’re not likely to run into again anytime soon, all things considered - unless oases are more common closer to Hatari? He’s just about to start on the first lap when Soren speaks again.

“Thank you. For inviting me, I mean.”

“Soren, you’ve been my closest friend for as long as I can remember. I was hardly going to go anywhere without you,” Ike says, because it’s true. Half of the appeal of this journey had always been in the fact that he’d have Soren with him - Ike had thought he’d made that much clear before. Then again, he’s never been a champion of words. The three unfinished letters to Mist in his backpack are a testament to that.

[totally-a-different-person]

Hello this might not be nsfw! But I hope you accept! Do mind writing a small snippet of Jon and Eduardo fighting after he kicked Tom out? Then Jon revealing everyone knows he’s with Edd? Pleeeeaaaaase? I don’t know if you like writing dialogue but I would love to see it.,

No problem at all! This is plenty of fun honestly and I really hope I do it well enough, because I've had this in my head for a good while now but never actually written it out (heavily implied and referenced nsft past this point, proceed at your own risk)

Tom gently kissed Jon's cheek, still not letting his legs go as he did, and the feeling seemed mutual since Jon didn't take his arms from around Tom's neck either, keeping each other close as each of them were almost done coming down from their climax.

It wasn't exactly hard to deduce what happened, Jon was littered with bite marks on his neck and shoulders after all. After a few more moments of sitting in silence and just enjoying being close to the other, Tom did set the boy's legs down and let him relax in the chair.

It was Eduardo's favorite chair, the brown armchair he always used, and often kicked Jon out of. The blond didn't PLAN for them to do it on his chair, but he did specially want to fuck because of his terrible frustrating day of dealing with Eduardo, so there was an added layer of catharsis he had really really enjoyed that came from doing it on his chair while knowing he would have no idea.

Either way, he was feeling much better now. He really was so lucky to have someone as amazing as Tom, laughing softly as his forehead was kissed. "Are you alright?" The bassist asked him softly after putting his underwear on, checking in with him to make sure he was ok. Jon nodded as he pulled his boyfriend a little closer "Yeah, I'm good, might need some wate-"

He was cut off by loud sounds outside followed by the front door swinging open to reveal Eduardo, Mark not far behind "You are not going to BELIEVE how-" he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the two, causing the blond to bump into him and nearly drop the bags in his arms.

For a moment it really did feel like his brain was refusing to process what he was seeing. Both Jon and Tom seemed beyond startled, Jon practically shrieking as he closed his legs. He looked mortified, and scared. "What- WHAT THE FUCK!?" Eduardo was very quickly escalating as he took in and understood the scene playing out before him.

"Eduardo I-I can explain!" The blond cried as he tried to cover himself up as quickly as he could. "Oh my god IN MY CHAIR? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" Frankly it didn't seem like Eduardo could even hear him, the man shouting as he started to go red in the face. "Hey you need to calm-" Tom, with only good intentions tried to intervene before he threw something or had a heart attack, but only turned Eduardo's rage in his direction.

"YOU. SHUT UP! In fact- get out!" He stormed in and shoved Tom out the door, mark moving out of the way quickly, and much to the demon's horror his own friends were coming outside to see what the screaming was about. Obviously he didn't want to fight his boyfriend's roommate in front of his friends, so he didn't do anything in retaliation.

It would have been different if he tried to put his hands on Jon but thankfully that wasn't what was going on. "What? What's going on??" Edd looked incredibly confused to see Tom, almost naked, being scolded and kicked out of Eduardo's house. "Oh my god" Matt nearly shoved Edd out of the way as he leaned out the door as well, laughing as he spoke "I think I know what's happening"

"Eduardo stop it!!" Now decent, Jon ran out, now starting to seem more angry than he was embarrassed. He had every right to be though didn't he? What gave Eduardo the right to yell at Jon for being with somebody because he didn't like them? That's total bullshit, and complete hypocrisy seeing as he felt it was fine for him to sleep with people he claimed not to like! But Jon put up with it time and time again knowing there would be an explosion like this if he ever found out, but that's not fair.

Eduardo turned back to Jon "Are you kidding!? I can't believe you would do this with him! THAT'S DISGUSTING!" Now Jon did look really upset, he was tired of being pushed around, and now he was insulting Tom. It was becoming so much piled up, and he could only question why he allowed it so many times before "IT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK! IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHO I DATE SO WHY WOULD YOU HAVE ANY SAY IN THE MATTER!?"

He was actually fairly taken by Jon's response, but everyone was to be fair. It was completely unlike him, or anything they'd seen from him before at least. Mark and Tom seemed more pleasantly surprised than anything though, Tom especially. Jon had vented to him time and time again about how exhausting and frustrating it could be at times so he was really proud of him honestly. He didn't think it would have had nearly the same effect if he had been the one to yell at Eduardo.

"But it's MY fucking house! You can't expect me to be fine with you having sex with the neighbors in the living room!" Eduardo retorted once he regained his footing, which was unfortunate considering Jon was past his limit at this point completely prepared to tear it right back out from under him. They could hear Matt laughing from the other porch.

"Yeah? And why not!? You do!! And we did a way better job of hiding than you and Edd do too!" The shorter simply crossed his arms. Eduardo's face quickly turned red, and he was speechless. What could he have said at this point? Edd looked mortified and Matt was cackling at this point, holding onto the doorframe.

Jon felt... Incredible actually. He wasn't even embarrassed anymore, not to have been caught or be pretty much screaming in the front yard. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest, allowing him to take comfortable deep breaths for the first time in a while. He looked past Eduardo to his lover, the fact that he had stayed to make sure everything was ok made Jon feel really good.

"I'm really sorry Tom, I'll call you later, ok...?" Tom nodded, and opened his mouth to respond but Matt beat him to it "Yeah get back here lover boy! I have a lot of questions!!" The ginger called loudly, making Tom's cheeks go pink as he sighed. Jon just smiled a bit and went inside, gathering the rest of Tom's clothes from the living room then going to his room.

Mark went in as well, he would let Jon be for now since that was a lot, but he wanted to check in on him later. He was actually kind of glad it was Tom, he didn't know the guy too well but he seemed really genuine which Mark liked a lot, made him seem trustworthy at least, he wasn't too worried about him hurting Jon.

Finally Eduardo did too, shutting the door behind him. He felt more dread than anything, knowing he was gonna have to talk to Edd about this. He also really wanted to know how long Jon- and apparently Mark too, had known and not said anything.

[alilbihh]

!!!!! um... I don't know if you want to write about new ones or not... but I also can't think of any new ideas since I'm freakin out a bit but I'll do some more thinking so.... um... a short little drabble or maybe a snippet of their lives in spring leaves after they confessed, how life is fr them now....?

i had a really fun time with this one, thank you to my designated spring leaves fan for requesting :) I hope it's up to your standards!!

masterlist

words: 1.5k

There is a quiet peace in marriage that you’re still coming to terms to.

It goes beyond learning each other’s habits, or making time for each other, or even whispered words of love. It is more the realization that you are loved— the knowledge that you can take care of yourself, but now, you are creating a space where you can take care of each other. That you could be trying to open a particularly difficult pickle jar and Jimin could take it and say “Let me help you,” that in it, there exists a prayer for which no words are said: You could do it yourself, but why should I let you, when I am here, and you are loved?

That being loved in this way is a choice, one that you both continue to choose.

Jimin chooses this, still, as he runs in tune with your pace, when you both know he could leave you in the dust.

(That morning, a gentle arm tries its best to slip out from under your head without waking you. When you groggily come to, even in your haze you can see the guilt on Jimin’s face. 

“Sorry,” He says, pulling his arm out the rest of the way to run a hand through your hair.

“S’okay,” you croak, cupping the back of his head to pull him back down to bed. He’s smiling as he complies, lets himself be pulled, be held, and when you wrap your arms around his neck, he wraps his arms around you, too.

Just as you’re trying to gather your thoughts into one coherent sentence, Jimin pipes up from where his nose is pressed into your shoulder, body twisted into an awkward angle as he leans into you, “Gotta go.”

“Where?” You say, then, “Oh. Running? Don’t go. Let’s cuddle instead.”

You feel his lips move before the words are even formed, feel the way they curve into a smile. “I can’t. And we cuddled all night already.”

“So what? Are you tired of me? Am I not appealing to you anymore?”

“So dramatic.” He laughs quietly. “You could always go running with me.”

You think for a second. It’s not like you don’t want to keep him company, moreso that if you were to try and get up, you’re pretty sure your legs would turn to jelly. You would barely walk, let alone run, given that it’s—you squint at the clock(oh my god, is that a seven?)— well. Very early.

Except.

“I’ll run with you.”

Jimin blinks. “What?”

“Yeah. Cuddle for thirty minutes and I’ll run with you.” He gives you a dubious look. “I’m serious! Set an alarm. Thirty minutes.”)

As he stops you from snoozing the alarm for a third time and practically puts your shoes on for you, you’d already accepted the fact that he’s well built. Jimin stretches, and jogs, and lifts, and it’s not like you can’t run, rather that you’d prefer to be doing, well, anything else.

Still, he works to match your pace, a gentle rhythm on the pavement as you make your way around the house, through the garden, past the greenhouse. Not through the forest like he usually does, since it’s dry around this time of the year, and the fungi would rather be left alone.

Well. A water break would be nice.

“We’re almost at our bench,” He’s saying, and you’re struggling to understand him past the need to lie down on the dirt and die. “We could rest up a bit and continue, yeah?”

“Good. Good plan.”

You practically collapse on the bench. You’ve sat here plenty of times, what with the way it sits neatly between the garden, the hydrangeas and the back of the house, but never have you felt so relieved to have leftover humidity and dried up dirt on your butt. You pat the bench in thanks. Good bench.

Your head lolls against his shoulder. “I don’t like you.”

“You offered to come! We made a fair transaction!” He laughs, his skin sun-kissed and sweaty and pretty. He leans his head over yours, “C’mon, it’s just a mile left, back the way we came.”

“A mile? Still?”

“It’ll be quick! We can walk the rest of the way.”

Your voice is muffled from how your cheek is pressed to his shoulder, “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of going on a run?”

“If you can be a smartass that means you don’t have to sit anymore,” He feigns getting up long enough to draw a whine from you, and he’s laughing when he leans back. You move to glare up at him indignantly, and take the opportunity to stare. He’s so bright. The sun rose twice this morning.

You bump your forehead back against his shoulder, and he seems to take that as an opportunity to kiss the crown of your head, hands working their way over your arms and down to your hips. “Still don’t like you,” You grumble.

Another kiss. “What was it you said to me yesterday? Something like...'You’re weird and that’s why I like you?’” Jimin presses a trail of them up to your jaw, letting them linger.

“A lapse of judgement.” You say, but you’re melting into him anyway, and when he laughs, it rumbles through his chest and down your throat all the way to the tips of his hands where they now touch your bare skin, the very edge of where hip meets belly.

“Brat,” He smiles against your neck, half-whispered. His hand trails down further until it reaches your fingers, playing with your wedding ring. Something fond flutters in your chest. “Do you ever think about our wedding?”

“All the time,” You say, voice embarrassingly breathy, but you’re too scraped raw to come up with excuses for it. “Still dream about it sometimes, too.”

“Yeah?” He says, soft, but there’s a trepidation, there. Like he’s still trying to find the best way to words his thoughts. You love that about him, so you hold his hand back, letting both your rings tap together delightfully, giving him the space to think. After a while, he continues, “I still regret those first few months. How I treated you.” You open your mouth to reply, take a breath and everything, but he pinches the skin of your hand to stop you, “I know you say I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Because that’s the thing about Jimin: he gives too much of himself away, loves too openly, too eagerly. Never asks to be more comfortable, as long as the other person is. His heart stretches to make room until it bleeds, like a mother’s womb, and you’re worried about what will happen if it ever were to stretch too thin.

(You’d told him, once— you don’t have to please anyone, you know— and, please, put yourself first sometimes, Jimin smiled, a little sad, said: I don’t know how, anymore.)

“I never blamed you for it.” You’re so close you can feel each time he draws a breath. It’s soothing. “There was nothing to forgive.”

“You say that, but. But.” He makes a soft noise. “I didn’t make it any easier.”

I am very much in love. It’s not new, nor a belated sort of realization. It was a belated realization at one point, surely, but not now. Now, it’s as worn through a fact as any other you know, something else to tuck away for safe-keeping.

You are in love, and so is he, and so even if the beginning was rough and unfair, everything that happened in your life that led up to it has been worth it.

You hold him a little tighter. “Not everything can be easy.”

For a moment you both sit there, listening to the gentle breeze, the distant sounds of the waking world. There’s a far-off chirp, like that of a baby bird learning to sing, and overhead, the early morning dew is giving way to a foggy sky. Spring is on its way again. Each one is getting easier than the last.

After what feels like a long time, Jimin raises his head. You stare. Not everything can be easy, but this is. Loving Jimin is the easiest thing in the world.

“Do you want to get married again?”

For a moment, you feel the world’s axis start to tilt towards the sun.

“What?”

He smiles, something slow and tentative. “Wll you marry me?”

Inexplicably, you laugh. “Again?”

“Again.”

“Jimin.” You feel Jimin grow in happiness. You feel like you’re growing, too. “If this is because you feel bad—”

“No. I want this.” He draws circles over your fingers, tightens his hold. “I want this very much.”

Never has the world felt so vibrant, and so, so lived in.

“I think.” You breathe. “I want that, too.”

(“Can we celebrate both anniversaries?”

“Brat.” Jimin laughs, all curled up around you. Has he always been this warm? “I’ll make sure to schedule the wedding on the same date as before.”

“What the hell!”

He’s still laughing as he kisses you, both hands cupping your neck, and there’s no hesitance in how he loves you.

You think, for a moment, about how every question you had about loving Jimin has been answered: He smiles into his kisses. He rolls his head back when he laughs. And—

He tastes like the sun.)

[apoptoses]

Hi! I hope this isn’t a silly question but I was wondering if you have any advice for getting over the fear of mischaracterizing/having characters be ooc in fic? I want to write for vc, i have a few ideas but haven’t started any yet because I’m so nervous about getting it wrong

I do, in fact! So when I was first thinking of writing some VC stuff I made it really low pressure for myself. Like if I got an idea I would write it out in my notes app on my phone, and if it didn't go anywhere then whatever, it didn't matter because I didn't intend to post it to begin with. I messed around like that for a good month and ended up with like fifteen little snippets of nothing that were just me figuring out who the characters of Armand and Daniel were and how they sounded. Which I think was really important because that gave me room to practice writing without the concern about getting it 'correct' on that very first go. Then when I felt like okay, maybe I have something with this concept I'm playing with, I knew I had to have someone do a sanity check lol I just put it out there that I wanted a beta reader and thank god @cup-of-lixx responded. And now this is the key- you have to be open to suggestion. Tell your beta reader buddy you're worried about characterization and hopefully they'll have some kindly worded suggestions for you. The truth is, what is 'in character' really comes down to two things: character voice, and knowing your basic facts. Everything beyond that is subjective and relies on the writer's ability to build a case for why this character wants to do this thing. Say, for example, you want Marius to ride a carousel. On paper that looks out of character, right? That serious old Roman on a carousel? lol But the thing is, if you can nail his voice (he doesn't talk like a valley girl, he's not going to use contractions like 'gonna' and 'wanna', he's probably going to make some references to history in his internal dialogue) and nail the basic facts (he's a vampire, he's got blond hair, he can only come out at night) then…you're halfway there. The rest is all about building up why he's doing this. Would he hop on for funsies all alone? Maybe not. Could you make up some back story about the first time he saw a carousel and thought about all the innovations man had to make since he was a youth in order to create such a thing? And that maybe he first saw one with Pandora and was feeling nostalgic? Sure! Your job as a writer is to convince your audience that this isn't out of character and you do that by building up the character's desires and motivations. The other thing you gotta remember is, there's a difference between canon and fanon. Sometimes in fandom some writer does a really good fic where Character X loves popsicles even though in the books character X never eats a popsicle, but people love the idea so much they repeat it in their fics and headcanons until that act is part of the Fan Lore and people confuse it for canon. And going against Fan Lore can be intimidating, and make you feel like you're doing something 'ooc' for the character but like…if it's not in the source material then it's not Fact and you can do whatever you want. But essentially if you're reading fic and notice a trend where Lestat always wears boxers even though in the books he never puts on a pair, and you don't agree that he would wear boxers? Don't worry about it, it's fan lore, do your own thing. I assure you, there's plenty of people out there reading fic who also don't think Lestat would wear boxers and will be relieved you wrote it. Basically. All of this to say- care about characterization, but don't worry yourself sick over it. Get someone to check your work and then, at the end of the day, go wild. They're fictional people, they're little barbie dolls you as a writer can play with, and as long as you nail their voice and stay true to the basic facts you're free to do whatever else you want. Writing is supposed to be fun, we're not getting graded here. And you can't get it 'right' until you churn out some rough drafts wherein you get it 'wrong' first.

Have fun ♥ I hope that helps.

[darling-archeron]

Ho Ho Hello! I’m back with another snippet!😌

We’re only one week out until the posting window opens, but I’m probably going to begin posting it closer to the 23rd or 24th, when I finally get to head home bc work ends for the holidays. The gift is still coming along nicely, though right now it’s looking like it won’t be completely finished, so I’ll be posting chapters probably once or twice a week to allow for final edits (unless I manage to actually get it done in the next week! 🤞🏻)

Any holiday plans this year? Other than me going home I won’t be doing much, probably just a lot of reading and trying to hit my book goal for the year (I’m 11 short right now😳)

Also what if I told you meet me in the woods is Also on the playlist? 😂 I was choosing between the two for the last message and was so glad to see you also think that mmitw is a Rhys song!!!

That’s so exciting you have hozier tickets!!! I’ve been putting off getting them bc I’d be going alone (and I also need a paycheck first 😅) luckily I live in an area where I could theoretically go to one of three concerts without being too far out of the way, so there’s still plenty of single seats available, hopefully it stays that way🤞🏻

And I’m trying not to pressure myself over word count but it’s def a long fic and around 30k now😅 (which is around twice the length of my next longest fic😬)

And for the snippet:

Rhys was slouching on a chair, one leg thrown over an armrest, the other flat on the ground to keep him from sliding right out of the seat. He had a full glass of wine in his hand, but there were two discarded bottles laying flat on the plush rug, so he’d obviously been drinking for a while.

And, on the couch next to him, sat the most beautiful woman Feyre had ever seen in her life. She had golden hair and brown eyes that seemed to draw Feyre in, despite the fact that the woman couldn’t see her.

“You can fix things,” the woman said, and Rhys groaned like he’d heard it before and didn’t believe it.

“No I can’t,” he whined, bringing the goblet up to his lips.

💜,🧑🏻‍🎄

Omg Santa, this snippet has me so excited!! Rhys being a drama queen?? Drunk Rhys?? I'm absolutely here for it. These snippets have me so excited!!

Not going to lie, hearing that we're only a week out from posting was like a bucket of cold water because I still have some major work to do for my giftee, but I'm also super excited for reveals! I feel like we're definitely going to have to exchange playlists because it seems like we have very similar tastes in music. :)

I'm also super short on my book goal, I'm currently trying to read Fourth Wing before my ebook is due back at the library but I don't know that I'll be able to finish it....I miss being 16 and being able to consume a 900 page book in like 3 days haha.

I don't have any crazy plans for the holidays either! Just some time with close family. It sounds like you have a cozy time ahead of you.

I really hope you're able to get Hozier tickets! It sounds like it's going to be a great show.

Absolutely don't pressure yourself over word count! I'm someone who does this all the time so I completely understand, but it also sounds like you're having fun writing it and I'm so glad!

I can't wait to find out who you are, Santa, you have me very curious!

Have a great weekend <3333

[unmicrowavable]

Do you listen to the radio?

I did as a kid, on the drive to school and back, and often as I studied. I memorized ads forced to repeat between the same songs.

I like thinking about the radio. Public airways, censorship, ads, the songs, the radio hosts, their shows, who decides what we hear and such.

I'm sure today we pay for a premium adless music streaming service catered to our personal tastes, but the radio is still there, fun fact. And it's going digital too! Take your show hosts and their ads and repeat favorite songs with you as an app on your phone!

There is though, a "car" branch to the discussion of the radio.

I notice, personally, tons of ads for car insurance, which makes sense as I know I am usually in the car when I listen to the radio. Personally, I drive a lot. The radio never stops. Accidents happen at all hours. Few ads for buying cars. Plenty of accident law firms and injury attorneys. Also ads I notice for free money through surveys or such.

I admit the food ads tend to trigger appetite. Not much though.

A side thought: I love thinking about demographic statistics about who is on the road doing what right now. Dropping off kids to school, getting off work, after hours events, how this contributed to the flow and congestion of traffic. Where High-schools meet eateries versus plazas with varying flow of activity.

How Golden hour effects accidents, if at all. So many distracted drivers. Personally, I don't haver time to be detracted while driving, I have places to be. If you can afford to check your phone, call a lift. The road is for driving not texting. Anyways.

Ah yes the ad, the occasional snippet about a community event. That's what I want more of. Community radio. Listen to Welcome to Night vale.

We get lots of drama talk shows. I hate how hard they engrossed me on the drive to school and I was dropped off before hearing the dramatic ending to a relationship. I think it's kind of gross that we have relationship radio blasts as a media genre. Yes to public engagement but less drama. More science and community. It is repetitive after a while but I think fun to check in on every few weeks or months. It's good to be engaged in the world around you and sometimes I think the radio is underrated as a resource we have such easy access to. Thoughts have been splashed out loosely for this evening. G'night

[pinkdreamcollectorsworld]

i wanted to send this as an ask bc im shy on public tumblr posts but! first of all good luck and congrats, fanfic writing is so fun & it's so brave of you to start & put yourself out there <3 i've been writing fic since i was 13 so i have a few (hard earned) tips, which im sharing just bc you asked for some !! i'm SORRY IT'S SO LONG OH MY GOD I did not expect to write my uh Ten Fic Commandments????? but dbdhdjwj here you go i hope they help <3

1) don't be afraid to mess up, like seriously. I had a HUGE issue looking back/thinking on past fics I wrote bc the writing was ~so cringe~. it made me want to delete everything, even the stuff that had good reviews. but I once saw a school play, and the kids were 11-13, and they sang and danced their little hearts out, and were any of them amazing? no. most of them weren't talented at all. but I grinned the whole time because they were having fun and I had fun with them. as long as you're having fun then so will everyone else

2) no one ever masters style or grammar or syntax or blah blah blah. it evolves every single time you write something new. the best way to figure out what YOU like is to go look at your favorite fic and analyze HOW it was written. then Emulate (don't copy; emulate) their style, their tone (to do this, you're going to want to study how they use all of those boring english class words like imagery and metapher and ominomonimepia. how do they phrase things, how much detail do they go into? how much do they describe? how many dialogue tags, and which ones? where is the verb in the sentence; before or after the adverb (i.e. 'quickly running' or 'running quickly'). You'll pick it up, and because you're emulating and no impression is perfect it will become your own naturally. And then you get to watch yours shift and shift and shift and shift and shift and shi

3) as long as you're having fun, try not to give a shit about characterization, editing, etc etc. you attract the people who like YOUR style and your portrayal, and if people don't like it they usually, in my experience, simply click away. honestly not even because they're good people, but because they simply don't have the time or energy to write a bad comment. laziness as a sign of genuine kindness (?) maybe so

4) I know everyone always says comments & kudos & bookmarks don't matter as long as you're having fun, and maybe to some people they don't, but if they do that's Okay. because that's a piece of you. they matter to plenty of people, including me!! It makes sense to share something and want to see your efforts rewarded. try to find a person in the fandom you're writing for, whether it's thru tumblr or ao3 comments or twitter or Whatever, & if you click, stick to em like glue, because they're about to be Spammed With Snippets. you gotta find a pal to be absolutely unhinged with

5) If you get stuck, skip. I can't tell you how many random snippets I have floating around for different ideas, or the same idea at different points in the writing timeline, stuff like that. If you have an idea in your head then write That; don't worry about the other stuff. That can come later

6) Speaking of getting stuck, if you're stuck at a particular part, just write out the dialogue or the action without any fancy phrasing. Whenever I get stuck I just start describing what I want to happen, and for me, it sometimes evolves into me picking up the narrative again. You can go back later to properly describe how kevin was eating his ham sandwich

7) have fun in your author's notes. go batshit. people love to see batshit & if you love to be batshit then embrace that so hard. be so so so so cringe and awkward and nerdy. i love to see a person having a good ol fashioned insane time & I know a bunch of people who do too

8) don't worry about editing if you don't want to. honestly it's so overrated. i once edited a chapter three times and had THREE OTHER PEOPLE read it through to make sure everything read well, and we ALL missed the fact that 5 guys + 6 guys most DEFINITELY does not equal 13 guys. in any situation at all. it was a laugh, helped me to not take things so seriously. I recently went back to have a laugh & even though I edited it to fix it at the time the comments pointed it out, there was STILL A COUPLE OF ADDITION MISTAKES THAT I MISSED AND NEVER FIXED. IT'S BEEN TWO YEARS FJDJDJWK. you learn to laugh about that stuff, that's the whole point i think

9) please don't be afraid to mess around with setting & aus and such. feel free to turn that character into a cat Just Because. not everything needs an explanation & sometimes it's just more fun to be like "yeah idk he's a cat now Because I Say So! enjoy the chapter & if you like leave me a comment or a kudos!! 1 comment = 1 meow" just be totally unashamed of your good time, whatever that looks like to you

10) if you ever need a cheerleader, my ims are open <3 good luck, have fun, may the force be with you !!!!

p.s. take a shot every time i say 'fun'

I love this! Thank you!