#tear you apart Joel coded

[mermaidgirl30]

He was a like a clouded thunderstorm. Tinted dark blue, impenetrable, intense, a storm so strong he’d knock down anything he placed his calloused fingers on. Then you came along. Sunlight, golden shades of amber that stilled his clouded grey skies. You were warmth, and when you touched him all he felt was home. The sunlight that sparked wildfire through his veins. A light so blinding that all he saw was you. His favorite shade was you.

[elliecore4eva]

The Weight of Words We Can't Take Back

pairing: asshole! ellie x Joel’s adoptive daughter!reader

Summary : You’re Joel’s adoptive daughter, living in Jackson, Ellie and you have been dating for 2 years and everything’s going well until it isn’t causing Ellie to snap and give you the silent treatment.

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Angst, Mean Ellie and the silent treatment + fluff at end.

Very Mean! Ellie x Sunshine! Reader coded.

Requests open!

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The Tipsy Bison buzzed with its usual evening crowd when everything fell apart. You and Ellie had been together long enough - two years of shared breaths, stolen kisses, and promises whispered under starlit skies - that everyone in Jackson knew you as a unit. The sunny-natured girl who'd stolen Joel's heart and his brooding, fierce adopted daughter. A perfect balance, they said.

Until tonight.

It started with patrol routes, like many of your arguments did. But this was different. The mountain pass had claimed three lives last month - good people, experienced fighters. The kind of loss that left holes in Jackson's tight-knit community.

"I'm taking the mountain route tomorrow," Ellie announced over your shared plate of Seth's famous fries. Her tone was casual, but you knew that set of her jaw. "There's been infected activity reported, and I'm the best shot we've got."

Your heart dropped. "El, no. Maria specifically said that route's off-limits until the snow melts. Even Joel agreed—"

"Joel doesn't make my decisions," she cut in, that familiar defensive edge creeping into her voice. "And neither do you."

"This isn't about making decisions," you countered, trying to keep your voice level. The couple at the next table was already stealing glances. "It's about being smart. Being safe. What happened to Danny and the others—"

"Happened because they weren't prepared!" Her voice rose slightly. "I'm different. I'm immune, remember? If anything goes wrong—"

"Being immune doesn't make you bulletproof!" The words burst out louder than intended. A hush fell over the nearby tables. "What about last summer? When you came back half-dead because you thought you could handle that bloater alone?"

"That was different—"

"No, it wasn't! You spent three weeks in the infirmary. I had to watch while you—" Your voice cracked. "While you fought for your life because you're so damn determined to prove something!"

Ellie's eyes flashed. The whole bar had gone quiet now, watching the unfolding scene. "I don't need to prove anything. I need to do my job, which is protecting this place. Protecting you."

"And what about the people who love you? What about Joel? What about me?" You could feel tears threatening. "Do you have any idea what it does to us every time you throw yourself into danger?"

"Oh, that's rich," Ellie laughed, but it was a harsh sound. "Coming from Little Miss Sunshine herself. You think just because Joel took you in, because everyone loves your perfect, optimistic ass, you get to tell me how to survive? I was surviving long before you showed up with your fucking rainbows and happy endings!"

The silence in the bar was deafening. You saw Jesse start to rise from his seat at the bar, saw Dina's hand fly to her mouth. But Ellie wasn't done.

"You want to know something?" She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "Maybe I'm tired of pretending. Tired of playing house and family dinner and whatever the fuck this is. Maybe some of us don't get happy endings. Maybe some of us are just too fucked up, too broken to—"

"Ellie!" Joel's voice cut through the bar. He must have just walked in, but the look on his face said he'd heard enough.

But the damage was done. You stood slowly, your whole body shaking. The tears you'd been holding back spilled over, and for the first time since you'd known her, Ellie's face showed a flash of immediate regret.

"Y/N," she started, reaching for you, all the anger suddenly gone from her voice. "I didn't—"

"Fuck you, Ellie Williams," you whispered, the words foreign on your tongue. You never swore, never spoke with anything but kindness. But this - this was different. "Just... fuck you."

You ran. Past Joel's outstretched arm, past Dina's concerned face, past the whispers and stares. Out into the cold Jackson night, where the stars that usually held so much wonder now seemed to mock your tears.

That was the beginning of the silence.

[First Silent Treatment - Day One]

The morning after the fight, you woke up in your old room at Joel's. He hadn't said a word when you showed up crying, just opened his arms and held you like he did the day he found you - half-dead from infected, but still fighting. Still hoping.

You spotted Ellie at the stables during morning patrol assignments. Your heart did that familiar dance - leaping at the sight of her, then remembering why it shouldn't. She was gearing up, checking her bow with mechanical precision, when you approached.

"Ellie?" Your voice was soft, hopeful despite everything. You held out her favorite travel mug - black coffee, two sugars. A peace offering. "Can we talk about last night?"

She stiffened. You saw her fingers tighten on the bow, saw the muscle in her jaw jump. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes - pain, regret, longing. Then nothing.

She shouldered past you, the coffee untouched, leaving nothing but the ghost of her presence and the scent of pine needles that always clung to her clothes.

The mug slipped from your fingers, shattering on the stable floor. Jesse appeared from nowhere, already sweeping up the pieces.

"She didn't mean it," he said quietly, gathering ceramic shards. "Any of it. You should have seen her after you left. She punched a wall so hard she broke two fingers."

"Then why won't she talk to me?"

Jesse sighed, looking older than his years. "Because Ellie's got this way of punishing herself. And right now? She thinks hurting you is what she deserves."

[Second Silent Treatment - Day Two]

The greenhouse had always been your sanctuary. Today, the warmth felt stifling. You were replanting those strawberry seeds - the ones you'd been saving for the garden you and Ellie had planned behind your shared garage. Your shared everything, until now.

The door creaked. Your heart stopped.

Ellie stood there, looking lost in a way that made your chest ache. Dark circles under her eyes matched the bruises on her knuckles. She needed supplies - the greenhouse was the only source for certain medicinal herbs.

"The yarrow's fresh," you said, voice trembling slightly. "I... I remembered you were running low."

She moved like a ghost through the rows of plants, past the tomatoes you'd grown together, past the herbs she'd helped you name. When she reached the yarrow, her hand brushed yours. For a split second, electricity sparked between you.

"El," you breathed. "Please."

She yanked her hand back like she'd been burned. The door slammed behind her with such force that leaves trembled from nearby plants.

Dina found you crying among the strawberry sprouts.

"She's not sleeping," Dina said, sitting beside you. "Keeps walking past Joel’s house at night. I caught her standing there at 3 AM, just... staring at your window."

"I miss her," you whispered. "Even when she's right in front of me, I miss her."

[Third Silent Treatment - Day Three]

Family dinner at Joel's had been sacred for two years. Even during your worst fights, you'd both shown up, kept the peace for Joel's sake. But tonight, the empty chair beside you felt like an open wound.

Joel had made his famous venison stew - the one that always made Ellie smile, even on her darkest days. The bowl sat untouched before her empty seat.

The front door opened. Ellie stepped in, freezing when she saw you. Her hair was wet from patrol, her jacket dusted with snow. Something dark stained her sleeve - blood? Your heart lurched.

"You're hurt," you said, already standing.

She turned and fled, the door banging shut behind her.

"Goddammit," Joel muttered, throwing down his napkin. "Baby girl," he said to you, using the nickname that always made you feel safe. "Stay put. I'm gonna talk some sense into that stubborn—"

"No," you stopped him. "She's not ready."

He looked at you with sad eyes. "You're too good for this world, you know that?"

"That's what Ellie used to say."

[Fourth Silent Treatment - Day Four]

Movie night at the community center. Your heart was already in pieces, but seeing her walk in with Dina, deliberately avoiding your usual seats - it felt like those pieces were being ground to dust.

You'd found "Jurassic Park" - her favorite movie. Had planned to use it as a peace offering. Now you sat alone in the front row, the empty seat beside you a monument to everything falling apart.

Throughout the movie, you felt her eyes on you. Every laugh from the crowd made you think of her commentary during previous viewings. The way she'd squeeze your hand during tense scenes, even though she'd seen it a dozen times. How she'd whisper facts about dinosaurs in your ear, her breath warm against your skin.

Jesse found you in the projection room later, rewinding the film with shaking hands.

"This has to stop," he said, pulling you into a hug. "You're both drowning without each other."

"I don't know how to fix it," you sobbed into his shirt. "I don't know how to reach her when she won't even look at me."

"She looks at you all the time," he said softly. "You just can't see it because you're too busy looking at the ground. She watches you like she's dying of thirst and you're the last drop of water in the world."

[Fifth Silent Treatment - Day Five]

The final straw came when you took the mountain pass patrol - her route. The very thing that had started this whole mess. Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was reckless, but you needed to understand. Needed to know what drew her to these dangerous paths.

You didn't expect to find her there, perched on a ridge, watching your approach with wide eyes that quickly turned to fury.

"What the fuck?" She broke her silence at last, voice raw with disuse and emotion.

"What are you doing here?"

"The same thing you do," you answered steadily. "My job."

She moved toward you like an approaching storm. "You can't— This isn't—" She stopped, chest heaving. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you."

Something broke in her expression. For a moment, you thought she might finally talk - really talk. Instead, she turned away, shoulders shaking.

"If you won't talk to me," you called after her, your voice carrying across the snow, "at least talk to Joel. We all miss you, El. Even if you don't miss us back."

You saw her pause, saw her hand come up to wipe roughly at her face. Then she was gone, leaving you alone with the wind and the weight of all the words you couldn't take back.

That night, after your confrontation on the mountain pass, the storm that had been threatening all week finally broke. You sat in your old room at Joel's, watching lightning illuminate the mountains where you'd seen Ellie hours before. The thunder reminded you of her - wild, unpredictable, earth-shattering.

A knock at your door. Joel.

"She's at the water tower," he said softly. "Been up there for hours in this rain."

"Let her freeze," you muttered, but your hands were already reaching for your coat.

"Before you go," Joel caught your arm, his eyes serious. "Found her in the garage earlier, starin' at that guitar you two fixed up together. She was cryin', baby girl. First time I've seen her."

Your heart clenched. "Dad—"

"Just listen. Remember when I found you? Half-dead in that old library, surrounded by infected but still readin' stories to those kids you'd protected?"

You nodded. It was the day that changed everything - the day you gained a father and, eventually, a love you never thought possible.

"Knew right then you were special. Same way I knew about Ellie. You two... you're like those strings on her guitar. Different notes, but they make something beautiful together. Even when one's out of tune."

The rain was freezing when you stepped outside, but you barely felt it. Your feet carried you to the water tower automatically - how many nights had you and Ellie spent up there, counting stars, sharing secrets, planning futures?

She was hunched at the edge, soaked to the bone, looking smaller than you'd ever seen her. Your approach wasn't quiet - it never was, she always teased you about that - but she didn't turn around.

"If you're here to yell at me," her voice was hoarse, "get in line. Pretty sure Joel, Jesse, and half of Jackson already have dibs."

"I didn't come to yell." You moved closer, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.

"I came because my stupid, stubborn girlfriend is sitting in a thunderstorm, probably catching pneumonia, and apparently being dramatic is contagious."

A sound escaped her - something between a laugh and a sob.

"You know what the worst part is?" She finally turned to look at you, her face streaked with rain and tears. "Every time I walked past you, every time I forced myself not to speak, not to reach for you... it felt like dying. Over and over again."

"Then why?" Your voice cracked. "Why put us both through this?"

"Because!" She stood suddenly, gesturing wildly. "Because I'm poison! Because everyone I love either dies or leaves or—" She choked on the words. "And then there's you. You with your sunshine smile and your stupid optimism and the way you make everyone fall in love with you just by existing. You're everything good in this fucking world, and I'm just... I'm just me."

"Just you?" You stepped closer, anger and love warring in your chest. "Just the girl who spent three weeks teaching the settlement kids how to read? Just the person who risks her life every day to keep everyone safe? Just the idiot who climbed through my window every night for a month because I had nightmares about the library?"

"That's different—"

"No, it's not! You want to know what I see when I look at you, Ellie Williams? I see the girl who hums while she cleans her guns. Who doodles dinosaurs in the margins of patrol reports. Who taught me to play guitar even though I'm terrible at it, and never once stopped smiling when I hit the wrong chord."

You were toe to toe now, both shaking from cold and emotion.

"I see the person who makes Joel laugh," you continued, poking her chest. "Who sneaks extra rations to Maria when she's working late. Who named every damn cat in Jackson and pretends not to care about them but always saves scraps from dinner."

"Stop—" she whispered, but you were on a roll.

"I see someone who survived hell and still manages to be gentle. Who acts tough but cries at sad movies. Who makes stupid puns just to see me smile. Who loves so fiercely it scares her."

"I see you, Ellie. All of you. The mean and the sweet and the broken and the healing. And I'm not going anywhere, so you can either keep pushing me away and make us both miserable, or you can kiss me in this stupid romantic rain and then come home before we both get sick."

For a moment, she just stared at you, water dripping from her eyelashes. Then her hands were in your hair, pulling you close with a desperation that took your breath away. The kiss tasted like rain and tears and coming home.

"I'm sorry," she breathed against your lips. "I'm so fucking sorry. For everything I said at the Bison, for pushing you away, for being such a—"

"Colossal idiot?"

"I was going to say ass, but yeah, that works too." She pressed her forehead to yours. "I love you. Even when I'm being impossible. Especially then, probably."

"Good," you murmured. "Because I love you too. Even when you're giving me the silent treatment and making our whole family stress-eat Seth's cooking."

A genuine laugh bubbled out of her. "Joel stress-baked three pies yesterday. Three."

"I know. Dina and Jesse ate most of them while planning ways to lock us in a room together until we worked things out."

"Guess we saved them the trouble." She pulled back slightly, her eyes serious. "I can't promise I won't get scared again. Or that I won't try to push you away when things get hard. But I can promise to try. To talk instead of run. To remember that you choose me, every day, even when I don't understand why."

"That's all I need." You brushed wet hair from her face. "That, and maybe a hot shower before we both turn into ice sculptures."

Later, wrapped in warm blankets in your shared apartment, Ellie traced the constellations of freckles on your shoulder - a habit you'd missed desperately these past five days.

"Hey," she said softly. "Remember what you said last month? About wanting to plant a garden?"

"The one with the strawberries? Yeah."

"I, uh, may have started it. During the... you know. When I couldn't talk to you. Figured if I couldn't say the words, I could at least grow something beautiful. Like you."

Your heart swelled. "Is that what you were doing in the greenhouse?"

"Among other things." She reached under the bed and pulled out a journal - one of her many. "I wrote to you. Every time I couldn't speak. Every time I saw you cry and hated myself for causing it. Want to read them?"

You took the journal with trembling hands.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she smiled - that rare, soft smile reserved just for you. "After all, you're the only one who gets to see all of me, remember? The mean and the sweet and everything in between."

Outside, the storm had passed. Through the window, stars began to peek through clearing clouds - the same stars you'd spent countless nights naming together. And as you curled into Ellie's side, her heartbeat steady against your ear, you knew that some loves were worth the storm.

Even if they came with a side of dramatic water tower confessions and stress-baked pies.

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🍓🥧❤️‍🩹🗼

READ PART TWO HERE!

[atinylittlepain]

I'm On Fire

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

warnings | 18+ cursing, smut right out of the starting blocks, young joel is a goddamn menace, a little angst as well

wordcount | 8.5K

a/n | thank you all for reading this series, i really loved writing this part and i hope y'all enjoy - as always, drop me a line and tell me what you think. oh also, obviously you should listen to I'm On Fire while reading this. But, if I could offer a non-Bruce song (blasphemy, I know) for your listening-while-reading pleasure, it would be Fruits of My Labor by Lucinda Williams, it is so goddamn Cherry-coded. Okay, that's all, thank you for reading.

(gif by @santigarcia)

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“Hmm.”

“Cher.” His lips against the bare wing of her shoulder blade, his fingers curling around the sheet to pull it down over her ass, his palm stopping on the curve before slipping up and along the slope of her spine, all the way to the nape of her neck. 

“Hmm?” His lips right at the shell of her ear, the whole heat of him draped over her prone body. She can already feel his cock smearing pearled pleasure against her low back.

“We gotta get up.” A kiss to the side of her neck, just under her jaw. She still doesn’t move, keeping her nose buried in his pillow and breathing so deeply it’s just him in her lungs. Sweat and salt and him. 

“No we don’t.” His nose skates down the center of her spine, the loss of his presence making her shiver under the weak breeze of the box fan in his window, still morning, still cool before the heat starts to creep in. 

“It’s Sunday.” He coaxes her legs apart, completely limp in his hands, so he can settle between them, his palms finding her hips and hitching them up in the air ever so slightly.

“Amen.” His laugh washes over her, still wet, still tender from last night, now spread open for him.

“We gotta get to church.” A kiss to where her thigh meets the crease of her ass, one on each side before his palms spread her open even more, her whole body clenching in anticipation.

“I’m not going.” She tries to keep her voice steady when he noses through her swollen cunt, lips finding her clit in a soft suckle, but her words come out a bit breathless anyways, her face still pressed into his pillow.

“No? Not going?” He speaks with his mouth still so close that she can feel the low thrum of it in her pelvis, resisting the urge to buck her hips back to seek out more of that burn.

“Nope.” He does it again, letting his jaw go slack and putting the open heat of his mouth flat over her cunt, tongue dragging heavy and straight through her. She wonders if he can taste himself, still slipping out of her, still a bit sore, so she blindly reaches back, finding the crown of his head and tugging. A low mumble, need it gentle, need it slow, because we weren’t either of those things last night. 

“We have to go, Cherry. People will talk.” His palm wide over her ass, he uses his thumb to keep her spread for him, dipping his tongue into her clenching hole, kissing it better. Always aching, always dripping, always so blisteringly ready for him. She starts to hum into his pillow. 

“Don’t care.” She cries out when he slips two fingers inside her, too much, tears with how too much it is, though she still rocks back against his hand when he slowly pumps deeper. 

“Tough girl doesn’t care, huh?” She’s starting to sweat, spit pooling under her tongue, open mouthed and dripping onto his pillow in a silent whine when he crooks his fingers against that spot, that spot he likes to tease and toy with so much, that spot that would’ve had her leg kicking out behind her if his other hand didn’t have a firm grip around her thigh to keep her on her knees, her hips up high and quivering. 

“None of them matter.” He works her until she’s starting to twitch with it, broken little sounds in the back of her throat that turn into a dejected sigh when he pulls away, leaving his hand on the small of her back, the slick coating his fingers cooling and sticking against her skin. 

“That right?” Not gone for long, she preens when she feels the thick heat of his cock slip through her aching cunt, her spine stretching out long and languid, a perfect arc that he curls over as he splits her open. It hurts, good hurt, stretching hurt, her eyes scrunching shut, so sensitive still. He shushes her groans, pressing his lips to her temple, coaxing her face to turn and seek out his in a kiss that tastes like herself, her eyes still closed tight.

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t really pull out, just ruts his hips deeper and deeper against the curve of her ass and it’s so much, so early, all she can do is take it, slack and simmering at the same time. 

“Do I matter, Cher?” One hand pressed against her belly, palm splayed out over softness, the other wrapping around her torso, palming the weight of her breast as he hoists her up against his chest, limbless and keening in his grip, her head falling back on his shoulder. 

“So much.” He holds her, suspended, strung and taut in his hands as he fucks up into her, his nose dragging along the line of her jaw. 

“So much?” It’s all she can do to reach her hand back and grip his ass, that tight clench of muscle as he grinds his hips against hers. His hand that had been clutching her breast drags up to rest over the front of her throat, thumb and forefinger framing her jaw to tilt her head toward him, a silent ask that she obliges, her eyes finally slipping open to look at him.

“The most.” Good morning, what a sight. His hair sticking up all which ways, sleep still heavy and dark around his eyes, his lips parted and shiny with her and the quick pink of his tongue. His fingers pinch at her jaw, opening her up for him to lick into her mouth. He mouths at her like he’s trying to swallow up the high little cries he keeps punching out of her with the way he’s keeping her so full of him, throbbing and dripping down her thighs. And it still hurts, still fucked out, raw and red and reeling, but this is all she wants lately, to have him so deep that she knows she’ll be thinking about him for the rest of the day. 

“Just want one, Cher. Then we gotta– fuck– gotta get to church because we-we’re both going to hell at this rate.” That makes her laugh into his mouth, Joel cursing low when her cunt clenches around him, a brutal drag. 

“You and me, baby.” She knows exactly what she’s doing by saying that, that little word that seems to make his brain fry. She saves it, rations it, only letting it slip up her throat on spare occasions so he doesn’t get too accustomed to it, so he still reacts like he does now, his eyes scrunching shut, pained pleasure, and his hips snapping against her ass a little harder. His hand slips a little lower from where it was splayed against her stomach, finding her clit in a greedy swirl. And it isn’t long before her spine is stringing so tight that the stick of her skin pulls away from his chest, a sharp gasp of his name before everything turns liquid. 

Even as he continues to fuck into her, he’s gentle, so gentle guiding her down in her slump back onto her stomach, holding her hips up with his hands curled around her waist. His warmth starts to spread inside her with a quiet groan, hips close and jolting against her, his face pressed between her shoulder blades before he slackens on top of her entirely. She likes the weight of him, the whole body press down into his mattress, pushed and pulled by his breath battering against hers in their ribs. Always missing it when he presses his palms into the mattress to lift his torso up and off of her, still inside her, starting to soften and spill. He traces a finger from the side of her cheekbone along the curve of her ear, a silent ask that makes her turn her face to the side so he can dip down and find her mouth with his. 

“For the record, I don’t wanna go either.” Another kiss, just a quick, smacking thing before he rolls over beside her, flopping down onto his back and dragging his hand through his muss of hair. 

“I know.” She props up on her elbow, her cheek in her hand so she can look at him, reaching out because she can, letting her thumb slide gently beneath his lashes because she can, his cheek rounding under her ministrations. 

“Ma would throttle me if I didn’t.” He tilts his chin up, lips to the pad of her thumb, and then teeth just to get a laugh out of her. 

“I know.” Said on a long sigh as she finally turns over and sits up in bed, Joel’s palm immediately finding her spine, running the length of it, fingers curling over her shoulder at the top before slipping back down. 

“And your parents, well.” He doesn’t finish the thought, well coming out long and low on an exhale. She silently thanks him for not finishing the thought, looking at him over her shoulder, small smile before she gets out of bed, his eyes trailing her bare body as she shuffles around the room, the remnants of him already starting to slick down her thighs. His hands are crossed behind his head, young muscles tensing in his arms, suddenly seemingly content to stay splayed in bed while she puts on the dress she had packed last night for church. Her parents think that she’s sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house. She’s been sleeping over at Lisa-Anne’s house a lot lately.

“C’mere, Cherry baby.” She ignores him, padding into his bathroom and running her fingers back through her hair a few times, good enough. Joel has turned over onto his side to watch, a low rasp of singing that she has to roll her eyes at. 

Cherryyyyyy, cherry baby

Mmm, you look so fine

I’m gonna make you miiiine

“That’s not even how the lyrics go.” 

“No?” 

“No.” She knows that she’ll break if she actually looks at him, so she keeps her eyes pointedly focused on slipping the kitten heels her mother insisted on getting her for church onto her feet while Joel huffs at her cold shoulder.

“Come teach them to me then, Cherry baby.” She finally breaks, and of course he’s smiling, his dimple deep and endearing and annoying.

“Joel, get up. You’re the one that was so worried about being late to church.” He scoffs, slumping back down into the sheets with all the drama of a swooning maiden. She’s going to have to use a different tactic.

“I’ll do that thing you like so much later if you get dressed right now.” His whole torso shoots back up at that, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Today?”

“This afternoon, yeah, after we atone for our sins.” He’s already up and stumbling into the bathroom, his bare ass giving her quite the show. 

They drive separate, of course, and they’re both still ten minutes late to church. 

…

She’s on the phone when she answers the door, her eyes lighting up, big smile even as she keeps talking, tilting her chin to welcome him into the front hallway.

“Well, I don’t have twenty thousand more words for you yet, and since when are we on some insane time crunch anyways?” He can’t help smiling watching her, pacing a little back and forth, a deep pull to her brow as she fires off sharp words down the line.

“Look, I can’t tell you when it’s going to be done, you know I don’t work like that.” She holds up her finger to him, mouthing one minute. He nods, staying right where he is as she pads further into the house, still muttering into her phone. His eyes start to wander, looking into what must be the living room off to his right, awash in full light from the large windows in the front. To his left is a staircase, pictures already hanging along the hall opposite it. Mostly of her and Ellie, one sending a particular pang though his chest. It’s her holding what must have been Ellie as a toddler, all bundled up, her tiny cheek pressed against Cherry’s, rounded with smiles. They’re standing in front of a huge Christmas tree, that one they put up every year in New York, he recognizes. Cherry couldn’t be more than twenty-four, maybe twenty-five in the picture, still so young. 

“What’re you doing here?” He whips around to see Ellie coming down the stairs, death glare in fine form this morning as she comes to stand in front of him with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. 

“I’m gonna be fixing the porch.”

“That better be all you’re fixing, old man.” Absolutely no clue how to respond to that, and luckily he doesn’t need to because Cherry is coming back down the hall, no phone in hand this time.

“Hey, babe, carpool is gonna be here soon, have you had something to eat yet?” He feels like he shouldn’t get to see this, their quiet rush of a morning routine, Cherry already flitting away into what he assumes is the kitchen as Ellie groans that she isn’t hungry this early, Cherry back just as quick with a banana and a just humor me, please when she hands it to the kid. And then the phone rings again and Cherry groans, quick kiss to Ellie’s forehead which she scoffs and squirms out from under as Cherry darts back down the hall to pick up whoever is calling. Ellie meanwhile shoulders on a backpack and opens the front door, but not without turning around to shoot Joel one more look.

“I’m watching you, old man. Even when I’m not, I am.” She points a sharp finger at him, though he has no time to respond to that either, Ellie shouting a quick love you, mom down the hall which is easily answered by Cherry’s love you, babe, have fun before the kid is out the door with a hard slam. Joel already feels exhausted, and he’s only been here for all of five minutes. 

He decides that it’s okay to shuffle a little further into the house, following the sound of Cherry’s voice, still rattling off rapid fire to whoever she’s talking to on the phone. He hovers just in the doorway of what he assumes must be her office, sparsely furnished, just a desk with one of those fancy new Apple desktops on it and a slew of pens and notebooks surrounding it. Still a tall stack of boxes in one corner, though there’s already a shelf built and packed with books along the wall. 

“No, no, no, we tried to get her to do the cover art for the last one, and it was a complete fucking mess. I don’t– why are we even talking about this? The book is nowhere near finished yet– this is actually ridiculous. You know what the best thing you could do for me right now is? Leave me alone so maybe I can actually get some work done. Okay? Great, thanks so much, bye.” He winces at how hard she shuts her cell phone. But when she turns around to look at him, the scowl on her face melts into more of a resigned grimace. 

“Sorry about that.” 

“If it’s a bad time, Cher, I can come back another day.” She’s breezing right past him, always at a clipped pace it seems, and all he can think is that he should probably be following behind her and into the kitchen, so he does, albeit a little tentatively, not wanting to disrupt whatever warpath she seems to be on.

“No, it’s a perfect time, I swear, I will throw my phone in the garbage disposal if anyone else calls me.” She has a hand held up, as if she’s trying to remember something and pointing one finger into the air will help, her eyes scrunched shut. Honestly, she looks completely fritzed, taking a few steps toward the refrigerator, then seeming to change her mind and walk back over to him where he’s standing in the doorway. 

“Right, the porch, sorry, let me just get my brain out of my editor’s ass and–” He cuts her off with a hand on her bicep, easy, friendly. He can do friendly.

“Cher, really, it’s okay, I have all day.” She finally seems to take a breath that makes it past her throat, that frantic tilt in her eyes already starting to smooth. 

“Is Sarah’s team doing the whole bonding thing today too?” He nods, sharing a quick smile with her, and then remembering that no, not friendly to just keep his hand on her bicep and no, there is no non-awkward way to retract his hand, though he does his best.

“So the porch, what am I working with here?”  She leads him out to the backdoor and he finds that he’s working with exactly what she described. The planks are all rotten, pock-marked and fraying, a complete hazard. He doesn’t even try to walk on it, it's that bad. 

“Well, what do you think?” She says it with the corner of her thumbnail worrying between her teeth, leaning in the doorframe beside him.

“I think you’re gonna need a whole new porch, Cher. Just looking at it, I can tell you right now that none of this is safe to salvage.”

“That sounds expensive.” Not for you, he’d like to say. Not anything for you. But he can’t say that because then she’d never let him do it in the first place. 

“Nah, it’s easy stuff. Maybe a few days, but really, not major at all.” Her eyes scan out over the porch, and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

“How much do you think, altogether?” 

“Uh, well–”

“Joel, no.”

“What no?” 

“No, I know what you’re doing, and I’m not gonna let you undersell your work just because it’s me.”

“Friends and family discount, Cher.” There is no friends and family discount. His uncle asked them to build a new addition to his house last year and the Miller brothers were happy to charge him full price, just good business. 

“I want you to tell me how much it would be if I was just some random person that hired you.” If it gets her to drop it, he’ll indulge it, he’ll just leave out the fact that he’s never going to accept a single dime of it.

“Well there’s the cost of materials and labor to consider. I could probably get this done over three or four days. You’d be looking at anywhere from four to maybe six thousand dollars.” She nods, working her jaw as she squints out at the porch again before finally holding her hand out to him, though it takes him a beat to realize that she’s looking for a shake. 

“Alright, sounds like a deal. And I will be paying full price, just so you know. I’ll send the check to Tommy if I have to.” He’s still holding her hand in a ridiculous shake, nodding along even though he’d throttle Tommy if she really did that. 

“Whatever you say, Cher. So am I good to go ahead and get to work out there?” 

“Yes, yeah, absolutely, it’s all yours to have at it–” She’s cut off by the sound of her phone ringing in the other room, her whole face scrunching up at the sound.

“Sorry, I just– well, you know your way around the house, right?” She’s already shuffling down the hall toward her office.

“Yeah, I think I can manage, don’t worry about it, Cher.” Her phone is still ringing as she leans out of the doorway of her office, smiling at him, all apologetic. 

“Thank you, so fucking much. If you need anything I will most likely be in here for the rest of the day.” She slams the door behind her, and he figures that’s where Ellie gets it from. 

…

She almost didn’t return to the auto shop, wan and worn out from what being ten minutes late to church got her, a sharp look from her mother when she slid into the pew next to her, the least of hers worries when she got home after the service. Her parents, so hell-bent on everything being prim and perfect and in its right place, and god forbid anything ever be not that. Nothing prim and perfect about it, really. 

She parks at the back of the shop, her usual spot, a quick swipe of her knuckles under both of her eyes, sniff, a bit stiff. She can’t believe that after all this time, this stuff still manages to make her cry. She wishes that it didn’t. 

He’s finishing up for the day. She always comes around just when he’s punching out, hovering around the front office, usually a little giddy with it. But tonight she only feels a tired anticipation, trying to get herself ready to be okay for him, when really all she wants is to lay down and be very still for a few hours. She can’t do that though, because he’s there, covered in grease with his ball cap hanging out of the backpocket of his coveralls, all smiles when he sees her through the window of the front office looking in on the garage, laughing and getting ribbed by the other men he works with when he sends her a little wave. She waves back, trying to make a smile happen, though she sees that it looks more like a wince in the reflection of the window. But then he’s really there, coming through the front office, keeping his hands to himself when he smacks a quick kiss to her cheek on his way to the sink to wash up, his neck craned to look at her even as he does. And he’s singing again, and she doesn’t know why, but it’s making her throat curl up tight and hot with tears all over. 

Cherryyyyy, cherry baby

Cherryyyy, can you come out tonight

She blinks hard to hold back the salt, trying to make another smile happen as he walks over to her, taking her bag from her shoulder into his hand. And she knows he knows that something isn’t quite right, his brows falling, a barely there question that she’s grateful he doesn’t ask, tugging on her hand to lead her up the back stairs to his apartment above the shop. 

“Just gonna get a quick shower, but then I’m all yours.” A small kiss to her lips, she just nods, worried that her voice will give her away, so quick to fall apart under his gaze. While he cleans up in the bathroom, she sits down on the edge of his bed, steepling her hands along her temples, her elbows resting on her knees. It’s a small thing of an apartment, one room, a bed in one corner, and what could be called a kitchen in the other, counter and refrigerator and an ancient looking stove. A small table with two chairs tucked into another corner, and a dresser she knows came directly from his childhood bedroom in the other. The simplicity is soothing to the dull throb settling under her skull. 

The shower squeaks off and she hates that she takes a deep breath as if to brace herself for his presence again. He’s quiet padding out of the bathroom, she only feels the slight dip of the mattress as he crawls up behind her, the smell of that irish spring soap he uses washing heady and heavy over her mind when he presses a kiss to the top of her shoulder. 

“What’s going on, Cher?” It always shocks her, how quiet he can get, usually all brass and brash, and it certainly doesn’t help the whole not crying thing either. 

“I know I said– this morning– um, I know I said that I’d– that I would–” Her fists are clenched so tight in her lap that she thinks her fingernails might break skin, trying and failing to get the words out before the flood comes. But Joel is already springing into action, coming to sit next to her on the edge of the bed, nothing but a towel around his hips, collecting both of her hands in his, unfurling them in his. 

“Hey, hey, what’s– what is it? What’s wrong?” Just a few, enough for her vision to start to cloud with them, though she can still see the way he ducks his head down to catch her gaze, his brow crumpled and a deep frown pulling at his lips. She takes one of her hands from his to pinch the bridge of her nose, trying to cut off the tears before they can really start falling. 

“I think I’m just tired. I’m sorry, Joel. Would it be okay if we, um, if we just–” He squeezes her hand, a relief in its quiet reassurance.

“Why don’t we just lay down, Cher, huh? It’s too hot out for anything else anyways.” She mumbles a warbly okay, but he’s already up and rummaging through his dresser, pulling on a pair of boxers before digging out a shirt for her as well, because she’s still in the stupid dress from this morning, only now realizing how badly she’d like to claw it off right now. 

Finally, they settle down around each other on the mattress, only the sparsest of clothing, the sheets kicked off the end so they can stay close even with the humid warmth in the air. And after dozing for an hour or two like that, letting that thick crush of tears dissolve itself with her cheek smushed against his bare chest, she lifts her head up to meet his half-shut eyes. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Cher.” 

“Do you ever think about leaving?” He drags his finger down the line of her nose, then back up and over the arc of her eyebrow, idle and easy. 

“You mean– like leaving town?”

“Yeah, getting out of here.” 

“Sometimes, a lot less than you do, I bet.” 

“Sometimes it seems like it’s all I think about.” Joel lets out a long sigh at her words, his finger continuing a random path along her jaw, over her bottom lip, mismatched mapping.

“I know it is, Cher.”

“Do you think I could do it? Just not come back?”

“I know you could. Go and be a big time writer and all that.” 

“You could too, you know.” Joel snorts, and she brings her palm down on his chest, a small don’t.

“Yeah right.”

“You could. There’s auto shops in the big cities too, Joel.” 

“I don’t wanna work in an auto shop for the rest of my life, Cher.” 

“What do you wanna do?”

“I’m still figuring that out.” She hums, pressing a kiss to his chest, her bare legs shifting in their tangle with his. 

“Would you do it with me?” It comes out, bubbles up from her chest before she can stop it. And she only realizes how badly she wants it after she has asked it. How quickly this has turned into the only thing she wants, her mind finally catching up with everything else. How somewhere along the way, nothing serious, just for the summer, became something else entirely. 

“Do what?”

“Leave and not come back, with me.” 

“Cherry.” Said long and low, like don’t tease, not this, please don’t. It makes her sit up a bit more so she can fully look at him..

“I’m serious, Joel.” Yes, she thinks, she is really, really serious about this. So serious about this it feels like her heart might split at the seams if he tells her anything other than yes. Joel still looks skeptical, unsure, his head tilted and his brow furrowed up at her. 

“Like, now?”

“No, at the end of the summer, two weeks from now. Just come with me when I go back to college.”

“And what, Cher? You’re gonna tuck me away in your dorm room or something?” She hates that now is the time he chooses to be such the pragmatist, frustrated heat creeping up her throat as she lets her nails scratch lightly against his chest, as if she might be able to coax something else out from behind his ribs. 

“We’ll get an apartment. I’m eligible to work as a TA next year, and you’ll find work too and then– and then I only have two more years left of school and–”

“Are you really serious about this?” He has finally sat up with her, stopping her ramble into the future with his palm cupping her cheek. 

“I’m so serious, Joel.”

“We’d be dirt poor.”

“Probably.”

“We’d probably kill each other after a month of living together.” 

“It’s possible.”

“Goddamn it, why am I actually considering this?” That makes a laugh burst from her chest, her smile curling against his, her forehead pressed against his. 

“Just say that you will, Joel, please.” He takes a kiss from her, then another, then another until there’s no space between them, mouths moving mouths and sighs being swallowed and his hands coaxing her into his lap, holding her as close as he can.  

“You really want to do that– with me?” There it is, that smallness, that youngness, his eyes wide and rounded and looking at her and only her. Asking for something, anything from her. She gives him only the truth in return.

“I wouldn’t want to leave with anyone else but you.”

…

It’s impossibly hot out, humid too, and by the time one o’clock rolls around, he’s doing less actual work and more swiping away sweat before it drips into his eyes. Though he’s pleased with the progress he’s made, having already broken down the dilapidated porch, a huge pile of scrap wood all that remains of it, not much more to do now until he gets the materials needed to start building. 

“Cher?” He knocks on her office door, still shut, and he reckons it’s been shut since she slammed it earlier that morning. He thinks that he can hear the faint sound of typing, a small curl of guilt in his gut that he’s interrupting, but he knocks again, a little louder, the typing coming to an abrupt stop. 

“Hey, how’s it going out there?” She’s wearing glasses, thick, square frames that hang low on her nose, peering at him over the top of them. It stops his mind short for a moment, something new that he tries to quickly tuck away, but she still seems to catch his stuttered moment, her smile turning slanted as she pushes the glasses up and into her hair.

“Readers, can you believe that? I’m not even forty and I need readers. My doctor says it’s because I press my face too close to the screen while I’m writing, so chalk it up to occupational hazard I guess.” That makes him smile with a quick string of memories, her when they were kids, curled over her notebook with her nose pressed right alongside the quick scrawl of her pencil. Maybe not so new then. 

“Reckon I’ll need them soon too.”

“Well, I’ll give you a pair of mine when you do, I have about a dozen of them scattered in various places around the house.” She sighs, a glance over her shoulder to her computer, screen still on, mouse still blinking, and he remembers what he actually came to bother her for. 

“Just wanted to let you know that the old porch is all broken down. I’ll have one of the guys come by and pick up all the scrap in a day or two. Next step will be you deciding on what kind of wood you want the new one built with.” 

“Oh wow, you moved fast, huh?” He palms the back of his neck, just a bit bashful under her wide eyes and small praise. But then he realizes that he just showed her the huge sweat stain under the arm of his t-shirt, quickly dropping his arm back down with a shrug.

“It’s nothing, Cher, that wood was so rotten most of the work was already done for me.” 

“Thank you anyways, seriously, I– oh shit, is it really one already?” He realizes that she’s looking over his shoulder at a clock hanging on the wall outside her office, another long sigh deflating her shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’ve been working this whole time, Joel. Jesus, it’s so hot out– here–” She’s already on the move, and he just barely keeps up on her heels and into the kitchen. Whatever this is, this frantic and flighty energy, it’s definitely new. His protests fall on deaf ears as she bangs and barges around the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and water and– 

“We don’t have much to eat, and I know you aren’t exactly interested in tofu but–”

“Cher–”

“There’s a new sandwich place that I saw opened down the street? I forget the name but I could–”

“Cher, I–”

“I always have eggs in the fridge, not exactly lunch but–”

“Cherry.” Just enough volume, enough firmness for her to stop in her tracks, still that flustered look on her face, and it confirms what he had suspected. 

“Are you– are you nervous about something?” Another long sigh, the tense lift of her brow slackening as she hands him the glass of water, finally slowing down. 

“Do you want the truth?” He can’t help the short bark of laughter that comes out at her question, though she seems dead serious, looking up at him from under a rather timid pout.

“I’d prefer it, yeah.” 

“It’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Try me, Cher.” She rounds the kitchen counter to stand in front of him. He swears his heart jumps and jolts into his throat when she picks up one of his hands in both of hers, turning over his palm. He doesn’t dare move, not a muscle, watching the way her lashes drop down to her cheeks from the way she keeps her eyes focused on his hand.

“Well, I– oh, you have a splinter in your palm.” He is so completely uninterested in the fact that there’s a splinter in his palm right now, willing her to get back to whatever track she was just on, but she’s already tugging him by his hand through the house and up the stairs and into a bedroom, her bedroom, he thinks, and finally into her bathroom. And there’s no real thought formed in his mind as he watches her rummage in her medicine cabinet for tweezers, just that tightness in his throat and the strange kick in his chest. 

“Alright, quick pinch.” Something that a mother would say, his eyes prick with it, and not because of the swift pull of the splinter coming out of his palm. And she’s so close, her chin tucked down to look at his hand, her forehead almost grazing his. And her hand that isn’t daubing disinfectant into his palm is cupped so lightly beneath his own, her thumb stroking along the side of his. A small whisper of that’s better, though he doesn’t let her flit away when she’s finished, turning his hand to lace his fingers with hers. Her eyes stay focused on their hands, but he ducks his head down to finally catch her gaze. 

“Now what’s got you so nervous, Cher?” Quiet, something that she taught him how to do first, before Sarah did. How quiet he could be for her, and what a gift it was.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Joel, you.”

“What did I do?” The small curl of a smile, somewhere in the sway his forehead has pressed against hers so he can feel the ghost of that curve against his own.

“You’re here, in my house.” 

“Do you want me to leave?” So light, so barely, her nose brushing along the line of his. His eyes flutter shut with the sigh she lets out. 

“No, I very much do not want you to leave.” A fleeting thought, how easy this was two decades ago. How easy it was to reach out for her and now, now it takes every strung snap of his heart pulling and pulsing to close that space. But when he does, the world doesn't stop spinning, there is no orchestral swell. In fact, he can hear a car alarm going off outside. And it isn’t exactly good either, because the moment his lips brush hers, she is just as soon jerking her head away, a quiet curse in the back of her throat. Not exactly the reaction he was looking for.

“Shit, Cher, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, that one is on me. I just– could you– could we–” She takes another deep breath, like she’s trying to stop herself from tripping over any more words. He’s happy to fill in the rest for her.

“Try again?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

This time, he thinks it through a bit more. He brings his hand that isn’t held in hers to the side of her neck, his fingers curling around her nape, something steady to smooth out her fret. Nothing like this, not in years, though he wills himself to remember. A small one to the corner of her mouth, still an out, a chance to decide that no, big mistake, because if this goes any further, he doesn’t know if he could take no without falling to pieces. But she doesn’t pull away this time, her palm coming to splay against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, the smallest tug to come closer. 

The next one is good. The next one is a shared sigh, a yes, please, this. Missed this. Missed the soft puff of her breath against his mouth before pressing his lips to hers. Missed that sound, that broken little thing in the back of her throat when he slips his tongue along her bottom lip. Missed the way her jaw hinges, opening up to him easy. Yes, he thinks, this feels easy. Like they never stopped. 

Neither of them speak, silent understanding in the shuffle of their feet, knees bumping into each other as they stumble out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. He should be more careful, he should be less greedy. He should, but. But she’s here, and she’s pressing the perfect length of her body against his, and she keeps kissing him, surprising him when she pulls away only to put her lips in that one patch of his beard that has never grown right, holding her mouth there like yes, she has always been right there. 

So he grows greedy with it, his hands almost unsure of where they would like to start first. Her hips, holding the frame of them, feeling that presence before his palms slip up under the hem of her t-shirt, warm skin and the notches of her spine, known and unknown at the same time. And he thinks to himself that it must be a New York thing, this no bra streak she seems to be on, but he’s happy for it, makes it easier for his palms to spread out over the planes of her shoulder blades, the fragile flutter of bone and muscle as she circles her arms around his shoulders. Her fingers slip under the neck of his t-shirt, seeking out skin the same as him, and suddenly that little worry, that little fear creeps in. He could excuse it as insecurity, that would be easiest, so he does.

“Cher, I– I’ve been working all morning and I’m pretty sure I smell and–” The words fizzle out in his throat when her nails scratch along his shoulder blades, holding him in place as she noses along the line of his neck, her lips coming to rest just beneath the hinge of his jaw. Still surprising him, she ducks her head down, pressing her face into his chest, an inhale that feels deeper from the rise and fall of it against where his palms are still splayed on her back. 

“Joel, I really don’t give a fuck about that.” No, no retreat, not now, her small nod enough for him to take a little more, to keep going. She wants this too. Wants him too. And maybe, maybe she never stopped. Because she’s moving like him, desperate like him, searching like him, so maybe like him, she never stopped. 

Each article of clothing is asked after. Is this okay? Yes, please, yes. Still okay? Yes, still okay, please, yes. Until she’s bare and so is he, and it’s the same, and it’s so very different. His palm settles wide over her stomach, fingers slipping down along the dark scar just over her pelvis, her breath tensing and catching there as he does.

“Ellie was a c-section.” She says it shy, her eyes focused on where her hand is curled around his bicep. 

“That right?”

“Hmm, nothing ever easy with that one.” He smiles against her temple, his palm dragging up, settling at the curve of her breast, earning a laugh from her when he squeezes just a little mean. Up even further, to her shoulder, to that tattoo, that blooming branch of a cherry tree.

“When, Cher?” 

“Three years ago, and this one–” She pulls his hand down the side of her body, all the way to her thigh where the bundle of chrysanthemums is inked. 

“Two years ago.” He likes that it was so recent. The small, childish part of his brain does, at least. That she was still thinking about it, that she wanted to keep thinking about it. Something big and proud pressing against his ribs, just so to make him bold enough to coax her back and down onto her bed. 

He keeps his palm on the chrysanthemums, only removing it once he has settled on his stomach between her legs, quickly replaced by the open heat of his mouth, dragging along each dark bloom. 

“You’re bigger, Joel.” His first instinct is to turn sheepish under her gaze, nearly ready to tell her that actually, he’s doing Atkins. But then he gets a better look at her expression, the heavy droop of her eyes and the soft, small part of her lips. And she’s looking at him, all at him. He puffs up with that look, coaxing her thighs over his shoulders, only wanting it to ache a little with how wide he has her spread open. 

“Can I?” 

“Please.” All the nerves he remembers from two decades ago, anxious to do it right, to make it right for her. Though that’s tempered beneath the throbbing want he feels, no room to be bashful when he’s hurting so bad for it. And no room to be precious about it either, dragging the flat of his tongue through her cunt, a groan already crackling in the back of his throat when she says his name like a sigh, long and languoring. He stills remembers her fingers in his hair, and he can’t help the way his eyes flick up to her face, brow pulled down deep and wanting, trying to ask for it without having to as he sucks and laps at her clit. And when he pulls his mouth away enough to spit on her swollen sex, only to chase right after it with his tongue, pressing into her clenching entrance with his jaw dropped and heavy, she finally gives him what he wants, her fingers threading through his hair to cup the back of his head. A light tug, always in charge. 

“Like that– so good like that– fuck.” That’s another thing he’s noticed, a new habit she must have picked up along the way, her words a little crasser, a little more swearing mixing with everything else. It both shocks and delights him that her bite got bigger through the years. 

His hips have started to jolt into the mattress like a damn teenager, but he can’t help it, not when he’s watching the way the tendons in her neck arch and jump as he slides one finger into her cunt, quickly followed by a second when she preens more, please, more. He rests his cheek on her thigh, a kiss to the crease of her hip as he fucks her open on his fingers, that close curl he remembers her liking making her stomach clench and her back arch. 

“Look at me, Cher, please.” It feels more like a need than a want, to have her eyes on him, to make this real, and he’ll beg for it if he has to, but her eyes are already cracking open, still half-shut, the downturned fan of her lashes barely lifting. But she’s looking at him, her lips parting as she watches him press his mouth over her clit, holding steady swirling heat and pressure, chasing down her pleasure for her. 

“Baby– I want– I want– I–” He didn’t know he was waiting to hear that, how badly he wanted to hear that, has been wanting to hear that. And now it’s all he wants, that word, from her, over and over and over. He smooths his other palm out over her pelvis, holding her steady even when she tries to curl back into the mattress, away from the insistent press of his fingers and the heat of his mouth. 

“Say that again, Cherry. I’ll give you everything you want if you just say that again for me.” Her head is tilted to the side, her ear almost on her shoulder as she looks down at him, her face crumpled somewhere between hurt and want. But it smooths out all at once, and he knows she knows, an I got you in the small smugness of her slanted smile. 

“Baby, you’re gonna make me come.” 

“Who is, Cher?” His words slur hot and heavy over her clit, and he can feel the muscles in her stomach jump beneath his palm. 

“You–” She cuts herself off with a stuttered whine when he lets his fingers stretch and curl inside her, though she continues on a drawn exhale youyouyouyou.

“Close?” He doesn’t need to ask it, he can feel it in the way she’s clenching around his fingers, in the way her slick is smearing against the inside of her thighs, against his scruff. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“You want it?” Another uh-huh and a jerky nod, her fingers curling tighter in his hair and her heel slipping down his back, digging into muscle as he takes and takes and takes. 

“It’s yours, Cher. Take it, it’s all yours.” She does, perfectly, with his name small and nearly soundless in her throat, her whole body curling up tight around him before going limp, slackening slow. Just a weak pull of her fingers in his hair and a mumbled come here, please, come here, to coax him up the length of her body. 

His cock rests hard and aching against the crease of her thigh, and he hasn’t wanted something so badly, so entirely, in a very long time. She rests her hand on his chest, letting her nails graze down his front, particular attention paid to his stomach, something that makes him grumble, though she’s smiling as she does it, eyes crinkling up. Smiling like that, here with him like that, all he can do to duck down to make sure that it’s real with his mouth against hers.

And no, he thinks, they’re definitely not doing this in the right order. Probably should have had a healthy, adult conversation. Probably should have done a lot of things differently before ending up like this. But she moves so good for him, and he hopes he can for her too, his hand curling around the back of her knee to hitch it against his hip, opening her up as his cock drags heavy and wanting through her swollen cunt.  No words when he presses his hips forward, to the very end of her, just open mouths breathing each other in, and stillness that makes his head spin in the impossible heat of her. 

“Cher, I– been a little while for me and I don’t– I’m sorry– I don’t think–” Soothing, her palm brushing back his hair from his face, drawing his eyes to hers and she’s still smiling. Not mirthful or mocking, just presence, just feeling it too, her other palm smoothing circles along his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Joel, just let me feel you. That’s all I want.” He can’t help the sound that skitters up his throat at her words, something broken and small, because she just keeps looking at him, eyes wide and reassuring, still brushing her hand back through his hair, taking care as he falls apart for her. And it’s devastating when he finally moves, a full tilt unraveling as they both let out sharp breaths, her spine curling off the mattress when he thrusts forward again. 

They take it slow but strong, each press of his hips driving them further up the mattress until he has to curl his forearm around the crown of her head to keep her from jolting into the headboard. And he was right, it has been a while, and it’s her, and he’s already embarrassingly gone. And it doesn’t help that she’s murmuring in his ear all the while, that it’s okay, just want you, Joel, just want this, just give it to me, I want it. 

He comes with his hips bruisingly pressed against hers, with her whispered praises swirling around in his skull, and with his heart beating so hard he thinks his ribs might break with the ache of it. 

“You’re perfect, Cher. Nothing like this, ever. Just you.” The words don’t make much sense to him coming out, his mouth pressed over her sternum as he speaks. He just knows he means them, softening slow inside her, half a mind to apologize for thinking with his dick, but judging by the way her ankle is still hooked around his waist, holding him close, he doesn’t think she minds. 

And no, he thinks, this doesn’t solve any of their problems. So much that still needs to be said and understood and relearned. So much that needs to be sorry, so sorry. Two decades worth of sorry. But right now, she’s dragging her fingers through his scruff to pull his face to hers and she’s kissing him, and her chest is sticking to his with their sweat. 

“Missed you.” He’s not sure if he heard it right, mumbled out against his chin. Such a small sentiment to span all that time. 

“Missed you too, Cher.” 

...................................................

taglist:

@casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @suzmagine @everything-isfucked @lanabobana @kittenlittle24 @sarap-77 @officerrrfriendly @val-srz @bitchwitch1981 @redwoodsanddaffodils @themothersmercy @romanarose @lost-inhawkins @youcancallmeelle @hollywoodcaligirl @harryleatherfit @fifia-writes @brighttears

[lavnderwonu]

seventeen as my favorite 70’s songs! ˖ ࣪⭑

author’s note!: i always say my biggest flex is my music taste. i tried my best to pick songs for the members based on their vibes & personalities. im an old soul & love love love the 70’s. im like a 60 year old in a 24 year old body LOL. 70’s music is one of my all-time favorites other than kpop of course. click the links to listen to the songs & who knows, you might enjoy them just as much as i do! 🪩🕺🏼

choi seungcheol ❀

next to you by the police

waterloo by abba

say you love me by fleetwood mac

yoon jeonghan ❀

silver springs by Fleetwood Mac

i saw the light by todd rundgren

it never rains in southern california by albert hammond

hong joshua ❀ (i can totally picture him in a discotheque… think saturday night fever)

angeleyes by abba

good old-fashioned lover boy by queen

jive talkin’ by the bee gees

wen junhi ❀

love grows (where my rosemary goes) by edison lighthouse

jet by paul mccartney & wings

baba o’riley by the who

kwon soonyoung ❀

i need a lover by john mellencamp

what a fool believes by the doobie brothers

stuck in the middle with you by stealers wheel

jeon wonwoo ❀

burning love by elvis presley

you’re all i’ve got tonight by the cars

rosalinda’s eyes by billy joel

lee jihoon ❀

i was made for lovin’ you by kiss

little dreamer by Van Halen

love will tear us apart by joy division

lee seokmin ❀

don’t bring me down by electric light orchestra

do ya think im sexy? by rod stewart

don’t go breakin’ my heart by elton john & kiki dee

kim mingyu ❀

crazy on you by heart

deuce by kiss

gimme! gimme! gimme! (a man after midnight) by abba

xu minghao ❀

let me roll it by paul mccartney & wings

lover’s rock by the clash

ashes to ashes by david bowie

boo seungkwan ❀ (so abba coded..god)

SOS by abba

two of us by the beatles

hold the line by toto

chwe hansol ❀

lost in the supermarket by the clash

valley of the dolls by generation x

hanging on the telephone by blondie

lee chan ❀

what is life by george harrison

denis by blondie

jamie’s cryin’ by van halen

[femlesbianbarbie]

sirens

Pairing: Tess x reader x Joel

Warnings: Non-Sexual Mommy/Daddy kink, Lactation kink, Autistic coded reader, aspects of little reader

Summary: Sirens scare the reader and Tess comforts her until they stop.

Proofread: Yes/No

Wordcount: 0.7k

You are ripped from your book as a siren fills the air. It sounds almost like screaming. Everyone always screams. You raise your hands to your ears and slide to the floor. 

You begin to rock only slightly at first but the longer you do it the more aggressive it becomes. Your nails scratch at the side of your head in an attempt to give you any form of release. It never lasted this long before the sirens only go for a couple of minutes then they stop. You can do anything for twenty minutes you repeat to yourself your rocking growing more aggressive.

The sirens don't stop but you can’t bring yourself to move not even when the apartment door opens. You can feel the vibrations of footsteps as someone approaches you. You look up as the person crouches in front of you. Tess speaks but the words don't reach your ears. Tears spill down your cheeks as she wraps her arms around you. You bury your face into her chest. “It's going to be okay Mama is here “ She stands and pulls you up with her. She pulls you down onto the couch and lays you down on her chest. “It will stop soon mama promises” She rubs hand done your back. You nuzzle at her chest trying to distract yourself from the sirens. They have grown quieter the longer they run but they are still loud.

“Do you want some Milk” Tess asks, her fingers gently scratching at your scalp. “Please Mama” You whimper into her skin. In your attempt to block out the sound you haven’t eaten anything since dinner last night. Tess hums in acknowledgement as she begins to remove her shirt. She tosses her bra onto the floor and lowers your face to  her breast. “Go ahead baby it's all for you.” She promises as you latch around her nipple. “There you go baby” she presses a kiss to the crown of your head as you begin to suckle. The sweetness of her milk always surprises you. No matter that she feeds you like this at least once a day you never get used to it. “ MAma’s pretty baby” Tess begins to scratch at your scalp again and you cuddle even more into her.You free hand goes to her other breast just holding it until you are ready to switch. 

Not long after you finish feeding does the familiar sound of Daddy's footsteps as he approached the door. “Who is that?” Mama whispers as you slip off the couch. You sneak over to the door and wait for him to open it. As soon as the door opens you run right at him wrapping him up into a hug. “There is my sweet baby girl” Daddy picks you up and you throw your arms around his neck. “Did you have a good day” Daddy asks, bouncing you slightly. “No” You mumble into the skin off his neck. “No” He asks, pulling you out from his neck. “Sirens” You explain before making a move to cuddle back into him. “The sirens scared you” You nod as he sits down on the couch. “ Are you feeling better now? '' Daddy asks, making you stay out of his neck.

”Yes Mama made it better” You explain. “Did mama give you some milk?” He asks, cupping your face in his hands. “Yes” You giggle “ Was it good?” You nod before nuzzling into his hand. “Are you tired now” “No” “Are you sure sweetheart” Mama pipes up from the other end of the couch. “I'm not even tired” You explain pulling daddy's hands away from your face.” Okay how about daddy goes and works on dinner and you can lay down with Mama. She looks like she could use a nap” Daddy explains. “Okay” You crawl out of his lap and cawl to lie on top of Mama. “Hello” She boops your nose as you cuddle into her. “You got to make sure mama  takes a nap” Daddy explains throwing a blanket over the both of you. “I can do it” You agree as he leans down and presses a kiss to your head before doing the same for Mama.

[toxicanonymity]

Dog Days by Ethel Cain is so Raider!joel coded it makes me SICK

+ Strangers by Ethel Cain… I -

You're so right I wanna dive out my window. I added them to the raider playlist and they're like #6-7 rn if anyone wants to listen. Dog Days is -- Wow. And Strangers reminds me of couldn't sleep. Lyrics below.

THANK YOU!!

Dog Days

Lyrics

I think of you while you're at work

Out in the fields, tearing up the earth

But I like you best when you're at home

Giving it to me so nice and fucking slow

No one's ever gonna love me, no, not like you do

Every night, I'm crying in my sleep 'cause I'm dreaming about you

And I've tried so hard to quit you like I promised my mama I would

But it's no good, it's no good

You walk a fine line between god and animal

You're just a feral dog I worship in bedroom ceremonials

Cut me up and take me like the bread and blood at church

Love's never been more than pain, so baby, show me how bad you hurt

No one's ever gonna love me, no, not like you do

Every night, I'm crying in my sleep 'cause I'm still dreaming about you

And I've tried so hard to quit you like I promised my mama I would

But it's no good, it's no good

It's no good, it's no good, it's no good

You're no good

You're no good, I'm no good, we're no good

Strangers

Lyrics

In your basement, I grow cold

Thinking back to what I was always told

"Don't talk to strangers or you might fall in love"

You're so handsome, walking over to me now

Freezer bride, your sweet divine

You devour like smoked bovine hide

How funny, I never considered myself tough

I tried to be good, am I no good?

Am I no good? Am I no good?

With my memory restricted to a Polaroid in evidence

I just wanted to be yours, can I be yours?

Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours

If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick

When my mother sees me on the side

Of a milk carton in Winn-Dixie's dairy aisle

She'll cry and wait up for me

We'll make love in your attic all night

Euphoric in some strange delight

I'm happier here 'cause he told me I should be, oh

You're so handsome when I'm all over your mouth

(When I'm all over your mouth, when I'm all over your mouth)

I tried to be good, am I no good?

Am I no good? Am I no good?

With my memory restricted to a Polaroid in evidence

I just wanted to be yours, can I be yours?

Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours

If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick

Am I making you feel sick? Oh

Am I making you feel sick?

Am I making you feel, am I making you feel sick?

Am I making you feel, am I making you feel sick?

Am I making you feel sick?

Am I making you feel sick?

Am I making you feel sick? No, oh

Found you just to tell you that I made it real far

And that I never blamed you for loving me the way that you did

While you were torn apart

I would still wait with you there

Don't think about it too hard or you'll never sleep a wink at night again

Don't worry 'bout me and these green eyes

Mama, just know that I love you (I do)

And I'll see you when you get here

[boopernatural]

same annon because I just read "growing closer to being apart" and wtf I just felt myself tear up, ahhhhhhhhhhhh so freaking good, The accuracy is so good, and Tommy's dialogue is so younger sibling coded its fucking perfect, Joel being all gruff about being helped?! perfection, and Ellies teenage remarks, lovely!!

Thank you for reading I’m so happy you enjoyed 💕

[meteormoss]

idk what else to say abt it but like. i kinda always half read tags & summaries espwcialy when its like late fpr me so i kinda was like went into it with not much idea abt what was going on but immediately i was like oh etho dead? cleo coming for funeral? and then i was like oh maybe etho has been dead for a while and i like that a lot of theings were just so ambigious and idk if this was like meant to be implied but it was kinda like etho death accident. or on pupouse. yknow. and thw small details of like bdubs not knowing what cleo liked anymore bc like. hes still stuck there in the past with this old idealised version of her. back wen things were 'good' (they werent good but he thinks theyre better than now but also nostaligia is a bitch) god i just. uagh. and then bdubs & joel having sex abt it all. sad people who r greiving finding comfort in each other in not a great way. but theyre greiving. - tfz (i like how i said i didnt know what else to say abt it and then said all. that. jdbsjd its late i ramble easily when its late)

The ambiguity was so intentional. Why elaborate when that person is supposed to (used to) know everything about you? They know all the codes and everything. They don't but you think they should. They dont care enough to tell you they dont know. AND THE IDEALIZED VERSION VS. THE REAL IS MY SHIT!! Bdubs thinks his thoughts in confidence but then cleo just doesnt line up and and and he's starting to doubt how right he is but he refuses to be in the wrong so he just shuts it down. The bdubs and joel one night stand was not in the original plot and it occurred to me and it was just so genius and oh my gosh i love this story so much!!

The bracelets mean so much to me. Not many people notice them and I didn't overuse their metaphor. But! The bracelets are friendship bracelets from a long time ago. Now, it isnt logical for bdubs' to have lasted this long but suspension of disbelief and all that. Cleo cut hers off, she intentionally rid herself of them. I think I mentioned that? Ethos fell off, slipped over his hand one day (i didn't mention this) (this is both a metaphor for his self destructive addictions and habits/deteriorating health and for how bdubs and cleo slipped out of his life). and bdubs' are still on his wrist, frayed and faded, but still there. He refuses to get rid of them just as he refuses to let go of the versions he's half remembering mostly creating of them. It's just such a detail to me that i get the perk of knowing from being the author!!

ALSO!! The last chapter!! It's just so fucking mundane. It needed to be mundane. This isn't a big story about anything dramatic, it's just a story of reckless teens who turned into adults with issues and the repercussions of self destructive behaviors. They're just living, it's just a week in the life. Even if it was a really bad week. It wouldn't have made sense if I were to give it a big ending, or a fix it ending, but the ending still hurts because nothing changed. But it's essential that nothing changed. i am tearing it apart!!

[vadersdala]

👫 - dylan/lena (hehe), skye/lou, steph/arizona, angelica/kelsey, keira/lindsay, jess/bellamy (hehe x2), delilah/marnie, keily/maren, joel/nadia, jade/hadley, tally/iris :)

because im a stupid whore, i read five not four, so everyone gets a bonus hc by yours truly! these will all be elaborated on later. xoxo

dylan/lena

uh, obvi they were each other's first kiss. they were probably in kindergarten, and c*ntleen went wild and mrs walter's was like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ahhh well, what can you do? anyways, now lena's a lesbo and dylan's a hetero so...

obviously lena is the #1 hater, but also the captain of dylan/camden and has been since day 1. no one teases dylan harder than alena. no one.

lena gives dylan piggyback rides all the time. think tyedye girl and hallie from the parent trap - that's them

ngl, i see dylan constantly laying her head in lena's lap and lena often braids her hair or strokes her hair, and in the scenarios where lena is not braiding her hair the tv is on and dylan faces it and lena's legs are crossed, reading a book, mindlessly running her hand through lena's hair dylan is a hetero, remember this bc we all sure don't!

lena and dylan definitely have a communication code through lights, bc in my mind their windows face one another. also, lena used to always climb a tree to dylan's window, esp when c*ntleen was on the rampage.

skye/lou

skye is the little spoon - we know who runs shit in this relationship, but sometimes, skye makes lou Relax™️. not often, bc again, we know what's up. but skye def takes care of her lady mentally and physically.

obvious skye and lou are neon queen and goth girl, but have we considered them as golden retriever gf and super sonic bat gf. also, both def shop at hot topic. for different things, bc i see lou in ripped band tees and old school trips and biker boots, and skye's in the anime print dresses and sailor moon socks. but them shopping there together, end me.

skye does have many playlists about lou/her and lou. it sounds weird, it is weird, jer has made fun of her for this, but lou would beat his ass if he knew this was mocked. skye can't help it, her love language is music and playlists (idc if that's a real love language or not goddamnit!) i feel like their song is sweater weather from the neighborhood. there's no real reason, and i will not elaborate, it just feels right?

they'd get married in vegas, or something along the lines of vegas and you can fight me on that.

skye truly didn't believe lou liked her back, or in general. she thought jer was being an uncharacteristic prick. however, jer definitely teased lou about liking skye daily.

steph/arizona

i lowkey know az made the first move. steph is kind of shy (read: wishy-washy) about romance, like it's all in her head like lara jean, and she didn't really get az, this cool qb football girl, liked her, the rainbow glitter queen. and when az made the move, steph was very very surprised. also, she was happy and probably had tears because of how happy she was and definitely hugged her and az probably kissed her.

they always need to be touching in someway. they cuddle a lot. i feel like az's head is always in steph's lap, or az's arms are wrapped around steph, or hands casually on legs and arms. like tbh, not everyone has that vibe of being half when apart, but steph and az are definitely whole together. they complete one another. this is the hill i die on.

their song is boats and birds. anyways, i feel like steph has played it on the guitar for az once in private, because it's for az and az alone. also, they have a playlist one made by steph, one made by skye, and then a fake one made by jer that's ridiculous. you know they play jer's often. sorry skye!

they do eventually get a matching tattoo. i see them getting several, but they'd definitely have at least one eventually.

i'm pretty sure az tried to teach steph football and steph almost broke her nose so they never did that again. and steph tried to teach az cheerleading, but it was hard so the compromise is bring it on and steph attending football games with az and cheering at right moments. it's about the Compromise™️

angelica/kelsey

angelica kisses kelsey first. i know angelica makes a lot of moves first because angelica goes after what she wants, but i feel like there's no set up. no romantic lake side picnic or party, they're just together and bam! angelica kisses her and is like "i like you." very bluntly as she does.

kelsey helps babysit lakelynn, but she cannot dance and angelica has taught lakelynn to mock her. poor kelsey. anyways! lakelynn definitely thinks they're married when she can talk and shit, and has called them her moms. it makes for a fun conversation on the subway and coffee shops.

their first date was pancakes, but their first trip was to alaska in the summer and kelsey taught angelica how to fish and prepare for the winter. also, i see them kayaking a lot that summer and swimming in the water (if they can) and kissing in the water, on the kayaks, sunset kisses - all that jazz. overall: it's about the alaskan romance.

i think kelsey is the cook. for all her bravado, angelica is helpless in a kitchen and i think kelsey's mom bucks her into shape. she still can't cook, but at the end of the summer can cook, like, eggs and stuff.

vanessa definitely read kelsey the riot act and kelsey was probably scared vanessa hated her and angelica laughed, because vanessa hates no one? also, imagine their next trip was to seattle and visiting vanessa and making pottery and having a we are okay moment, but without the sadness? wow. bliss!

keira/lindsay

keira made the first move post lindsay kissing her. lindsay feels like an idiot for what she did, and she's confused and conflicted. but beyond that, keira is her best friend. lindsay can be herself with keira and she feels like she's ruined that.

2. lindsay feels safe being vulnerable with keira. lindsay is always on her guard, because tears is weakness, and pain is weakness, but with keira she can show her pain and exhaustion, she can cry and be silly and goofy - keira's the only one who sees all of lindsay.

3. i see them watching guilty pleasure shit together, like riverdale and bad movies. i see them making big batches of popcorn, chilling on the couch and booing at these things, and hating them, but they can't stop. it's tradition at this point.

4. they became friends because of jess. point blank periodt. so anyways, i think from day one, jess saw lindsay as someone her twin would love and immediately introduced them that day at lunch, and is gonna do a backflip when she finds out they kissed. this isn't about them, but it is: jess CONSTANTLY gossips about their relationship (ie bitching that they don't date/date the wrong people who aren't each other, or men if speaking of lindsay) to bellamy. these two girls are very invested on the ship and happiness of keira and lindsay.

5. keira and lindsay have roadtripped to vegas. when they were both twenty-one, they roadtripped and drank the night away and gambled and saw shows, but they also have roadtripped up and down the cali coast and have gone to baja ala sisterhood of the traveling pants. fight me.

jess/bellamy

again, these two bitches were each other's first kiss, but theirs i see as a thomas j and vada type of kiss (the diving into the water to avoid bees and all)

hear me out, but are they the cloe and sasha of our verse? have they gone for halloween as cloe and sasha and also isis and torrance? yes. i 100% think they do couple/matching costumes. always. even when they have gfs, they're gonna have matching and their gfs can match the theme or pound sand ig.

"family that i chose now that i see your brother as my brother" is them. like bellamy sees the bennetts as her family, and aurora is basically jess's sister.

i feel like they became best friends in pre k, because they both were playing in the play kitchen and they both began following what the other was doing and it was probably off the rails (like other kids: mom and dad, cooking for the fam. them: a chef and line cook) and then they sat next to one another, and keira approved of this blonde bitch and suddenly they were besties.

bellamy and jess always share a bed. i think even now, they sneak into one another's room and sleep beside each other. bellamy might suffer from nightmares and i feel like if jess hears, she sneaks in and comforts her friend, and if bellamy wakes up she goes into jess's room and snuggles beside her. regardless: SNUGGLE FRIENDS!

bonus bonus: bellamy is the only white girl to date who is allowed to braid jess's hair. like i see them sitting in the living room, tv on, and bellamy braiding her hair like a seasoned pro, because you know momma cece taught her!

delilah/marnie

they have a cat. this isn't important, but it is. you know marnie brought home an elderly cat for them to care for and they're lesbian cat mothers. i also feel like delilah makes marnie vow and pinky swear to not adopt more than one.

marnie bawled through her vows. like i think delilah had to read them while marnie covered her eyes and bawled away. meanwhile, i think marnie, at the wedding, wore a pants suit at the reception and an align cut or mermaid at the wedding because she wanted to be a princess.

marnie and delilah do meddle in their siblings lives. like marnie wants sienna and lucas together so bad she could throw up - even more so than aria and xander. lbr, marnie and delilah are more invested in sienna and lucas, but still, marnie doesn't want xander single.

while marnie makes delilah come out of her shell because she's goofy and everything, delilah makes marnie calm down and grow up a bit. marnie needs to slow down and think and plan and budget, but she cannot alone. delilah is lowkey her other half. without delilah, marnie would feel as if she lost a limb or worse.

the first song they danced to married was wonderful world by louis armstrong. fight me. idk why. it just feels right!

keily/maren

keily sometimes doesn't trust maren. some backstory: keily did have a crush on maren in school, and i think they've known one another since grade school and i think she was one of keily's first crushes, but because of the class difference and who maren associates with, it makes keily guarded. and then she began dating leo, so she chiseled at her wall, but at the end of the day as we currently stand, keily hasn't lowered her guard and is prepared for maren to always hurt and betray her.

the day maren showed up and helped keily/the washingtons at the restaurant was the day keily dropped her guard entirely, despite what jesse felt like. it was the moment she felt respected and not judged by this rich girl, and ngl, i also think it was the day keily decided she loved her.

keily kisses maren first. and i feel like they kiss on leo’s boat - that they obviously stole. and i feel like it’s also sunset, because why not make it romance?

i feel like keily teaches maren how to fish on leo’s stolen boat because the kiss. and i also feel like keily teaches maren a lot of basic things, like shucking shellfish, cleaning shrimp and fish, climbing trees, driving boats - just things a rich white girl wouldn’t do on her own.

keily definitely has a place on the island all her own and she’s never shown the boys or her sisters, and the truest act of trust is her bringing maren there. but we’re probably like months away from this!

joel/nadia

no one would believe how they are behind closed doors. joel is mr suave, the guy all the girls want, and nadia comes off as prim and proper, and most would assume she's a stuck up priss, but the shit they get up to is unmatched.

i feel like the whole reason that they happened is joel and andrew and the other boys were throwing a football or a frisbee and it landed near her, as she was reading, and he runs over and begins to instantly flirt with her and she covered a hand over her eyes and eyed him and thought "he's p hot" and let him waffle on and then she saw him running on the beach one morning because she was paddle boarding and they began talking and have very little in common, but it's a summer fling so why not? and here they are today.

i feel like they’re constantly laying on hammocks. idk why, joel feels like a man who loves a hammock and is constantly pulling nadia into one with him.

when in bed, and nadia is trying to read and joel’s trying to tease her, she often reads what she’s reading aloud to tease him. at first, she probably did this to kill the mood and realized, with a lot of delight, that he enjoyed these shenanigans. 

i feel like joel sings a lot of backstreet boys at her. mostly because of to all the boys, but i see him singing i want it that way to her a lot. and mostly when she’s either reading or cooking, and into hairbrushes or spoons, and she swats at him but always ends up in a heavy make out session or worse. 

jade/hadley

so i feel like they met the first week of college, rushing kat. like i see hadley there in her glitter makeup and green jacket and jade’s heart skipped a beat and she went over, and the rest was history. also, i imagine hadley basically living at jade’s place their freshman year and they made out a lot. 

hadley definitely gets the anna delvy treatment, because jade is like i live in the land of luxury so if you’re my bestie you do get to ride in private jets and get spa treatments and nice gifts because i’m doing all this shit, and i don’t want to do it alone. i feel like they do fight about this, but in jade’s mind, hadley’s basically her wife at this point. so i mean ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what can you do?

jade sketches hadley, and often. now she’s not the best, but i feel like it’s compulsive at this point to sketch hadley - and not just her face, like sometimes her hand, or the way her legs are. 

in my mind, their aesthetic is that scenery in ikwydls, at the house party because that’s jade’s house in my mind, and they’re on steps looking out at the sea in the dark and there’s hundreds of stars and the smell of a fire and they’re covered in glitter. no matter the setting, that’s them.

i feel like they’re the ones who do pillow fights. 

tally/iris

tally truly lets her guard down around iris. i feel like iris is someone she protects, but it’s different. with nate, she feels lowkey like she owes him and that he’s vulnerable because of janie, but with iris she doesn’t have to worry about her in these ways. tally can just be herself, relax, cry, be open and vulnerable and admit that she doesn’t have all the answers, that cases are too hard and too complex for her.

tally always makes iris tea when she has nightmares about her sisters, and this tea comes with a back rub and staying up well past iris falling asleep, rubbing her back, to make sure no more nightmares happen.

iris is the only one who knows tally cries about what her parents did to her. i feel like she never cried when they threw her out, didn’t even cry privately when she lived at nate’s, but she has cried about it to iris.

i feel like iris got tally their dog, backup. like obviously these bitches need a guard dog, but imagine iris knowing tally needed something to love unconditionally and bought him i die.

they’re goofy bitches. no one would expect tally to be silly, but these two get into flour and food fights, laugh in the tub, take baths together - they just always know how to make the other fucking smile!

[aspiestvmusings]

ZEP S1 END SPOILERS

SPOILERS FOR UPCOMING EPISODES/END OF SEASON

for ZOEY’S EXTRAORDINARY PLAYLIST (NBC) 

EPISODE TITLES & SUMMARIES

1x10 Zoey’s Extraordinary Outburst 

Air date: Sunday, April 19th 

Summary: Zoey surprisingly finds herself getting into major conflict with Simon, Max, Mo and even Howie. Tensions arise at SPRQ Point when the 4h and 6th floors compete over an important piece of code. Mitch and Maggie try to celebrate their anniversary. 

#Drkpoint #4thFloorVS6thFloor #SingOff #MaxToTheMax 

Songs: “The Boy is Mine” by Monica & Brandy [Team 4th Floor/Joan VS Team 6th Floor/Ava] & “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake [Max] & TBA [choreo!] + songs by: Al Green, Ed Sheeran, “Icona Pop” & "Tears for Fears” (reprise)

1x11 Zoey’s Extraordinary Mother

Air date: Sunday, April 26th, 2020 

Summary: Zoey has to figure out a clever way to help her mother with an impossible decision. Max unexpectedly bonds with Leif. Mo hits a rough-patch with Eddie.

#ZoeysDad #MaxAndLeif (wait..what?) #famousgueststars #ZoeyAndJoanGirlsNightOut #KaraokeNight #surprisingsongchoices

Songs: "Bye Bye Bye” by N’Sync [Max +]; “All Out of Love” by “Air Supply” [Leif]; “Felling Good” by Nina Simone [the widow AKA Bernadette Peters’ character], “We’ve Gotta get Out of This Place” by “The Animals [by Maggie], “Issues” by  Julia Michaels [Mo #whatavoice]  + Songs by: Billy Ray Cyrus, Montell Jordan, The Young Bloods. #canyouguessthesongnow

1x12  Zoey’s Extraordinary Dad (S1 Finale) 

Air date: Sunday, May 3rd

Summary: After hearing an ominous song (”BMR”) Zoey does everything in her power to stop something bad from happening.

#ZoeysDad #ZoeyAndMitchDance #TeamSong #LoveTriangleCOMEDY #howdidtheyfitsomuchintoonesingleepisodeagain #wewillseesomefamiliarfacesagain Yes, some of the guest character we’ve seen earlier this season, are back. And yes, there is quite a bit of Max (and Max/Clarkeman’s) in this episode...for those of us, who are fans of Z/M. 

Songs: "Bad Moon Rising” by Creedence Clearwater Revival (Zoey), “I Will Follow Him” by Little Peggy March (by Mo....about Eddie), "All of Me” by John Legend [Max], "Jealous” by Nick Jonas [Simon], “Goodbye My Angel/Lullaby” by Billy Joel [Mitch & David] & "American Pie” [Team Song/Cast of ZEP] #reprisetime “True Colours” + a few more surprises (by Max, by Maggie]  PS. NO OTHER SONGS WILL BE REVEALED BEFPRE THE EPSIODE HAS AIRED....AS THEY WOULD REVEAL TOO MUCH ABOUT THE PLOT. 

SPOILER QUOTES: 

NEW! 

“Well, Simon is back from Vegas in ep 12/S1 Finale. He comes back to see Max and Zoey in a way that he’s a little bit surprised about, where they’re doing something that he thought was very much their own thing. So that takes Simon by surprise. And then Zoey starts to see Max in a new light in this episode, and by seeing Max in this new light, it ends up taking their relationship into a surprise direction. Zoey’s relationships with both Max and Simon actually get to a new point over the course of Episode 12.” - Austin Winsberg #cheesequake #whosawthatcoming

                          **********************************************

NEW! 

S1 finale of ZEP features a 7-minute scene that was captured in a single shot (aka “a oner”). “We rehearsed it for two weeks leading up to the shooting of it. It required massive coordination amongst many different departments in order to get it right, and it’s probably the number — or certainly one of the numbers — that I’m most proud of all season.” -  teases showrunner Austin Winsberg.

                          **********************************************

NEW! 

“I don’t know how Zoey would end up singing again...anymore” [In S2...after that one time in 1x08 during her glitch] - Jane [”Oh, right...” - Skylar] Skylar & Jane IG Live 

hmmm... what does this mean? Why “can’t” she sing anymore after S1? Is it cause there’s no “dad’s declining health” reason? Is it cause she has no voice/ability to speak anymore? Is it cause...

                          **********************************************

NEW! 

Question: What is the scoop on Zoey and Max from Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist? I’m dying to know if these two have chance of being together by the Season 1 finale. What is in store for them? –Ashley Answer: I delivered your Q to Austin Winsberg, creator of the NBC freshman, and he wrote back, “Zoey and Max’s relationship will continue to evolve and change in surprising ways for the rest of this season and beyond. By the end of Episode 12 (airing in early May), I believe Zoey and Max fans will feel like these two have been on a real journey together — and also that their journey is, in fact, just beginning.” 

                          **********************************************

“On top of the health issues with her father, Zoey's also got two other men in her life who were already making her life complicated even before she finds herself uncontrollably singing her emotions. Some particular musical numbers in ep 1x08 result in some awkward conversations with engaged coworker Simon and BFF Max, continuing this rocky romantic journey Jane's been on all season, though Levy thinks they're both being a little unfair. "She will continue to go down both roads, and you know, they are different roads, and one I think is messier than the other," she says. "In my opinion, I'm kind of like, give Zoey a break. Why does she have to choose anything? She never promised anything to these people, she hasn't broken any promises. She's like dealing with extremely stressful and painful moments in her life and like these men need to give her a goddamn break." It doesn't sound like they will be giving her a break anytime soon, but Levy did tease a finale number between Zoey and Max that is "sweet, funny, sexy" and the audience is going to lose their minds over it.” - Jane 

                           **********************************************

“Zoey is someone who is not in touch with her feelings or is constantly running away from her feelings or burying her true feelings so she can be good at her job or not make things fall apart with her awkward personality. So for me, with each of these songs, the “Zoe-ality” had to be a deep desire [but] then when you cut back to reality, you’re back to Zoey covering up her feelings, being the Type A coder girl who’s just trying to solve problems and doesn’t want to really admit what’s going on inside of her, whether it’s her crush on her best friend or wanting to have sex with a coworker or knowing her boss did something unethical.” - Jane 

                           **********************************************

“You’ll get a lot more from both relationships (Z/M & Z/S..after 1x08). There will be a lot more intimacy between Zoey & Simon, and Zoey & Max. And there is a number in our finale that was one of my favorite things we did and it involves one of them. It is a love scene with two musical numbers and it’s funny and sexy and really cute all at the same time.” - Jane   

                           **********************************************

“We never wanting to make it (Simon vs Max) feel like a competition or a choice. Because that doesn't only preserve our characters, but it really protects Zoey. Zoey is nobody's prize and she's nobody's to claim or win over. So we do love the idea that there's a Team Max and Team Simon thing. But we tend to, when in performance, really take care of each other. There are scenes that Simon and Max have down the line and they have some difficult conversations. There's an obvious way to play all those scenes; they can be sizing each other up, looking at each other up and down, a game-on type of mentality. John and I have never seen it that way.” - Skylar 

                          **********************************************

“What I love about Max and Zoey is that even though she's pressured in that moment, she still does feel like she can tell Max. I think that that says a lot about their friendship and about their relationship. There's only very few people that know about this superpower that she has. It's very brave and daring of her to do that. The cards are out on the table now; she can't ever make any excuses for why she's acting a certain way towards him. It's really bold.” - Skylar 

                          **********************************************

“There's two ways of seeing it [Z telling M about her powers]. There's, "Oh my God, thank you so much for telling me. Now everybody knows and everybody can live happily ever after." Or there's the feeling of, "Wow, there's been a betrayal. You're telling me you knew all this stuff?" As Zoey begins to let people in on her powers throughout the season, it's going to be interesting to see what people are really there for her and are understanding, and what people can't handle this new information.” - Skylar    

                          **********************************************

“While Levy won't reveal how Zoey's heart songs change things for her moving forward, she does tease that this episode [1x08] is going to have far-reaching ramifications, but not in the way you might expect.  "It turns out to be positive," she says. "A lot of our show’s message is that we are all the same, the human condition is complex but we’re all going through it together. You don’t know what the person beside you is going through but you might actually relate to their pain or desires. Zoey admitting these things that are so horrific to her actually makes people understand her in this way that she doesn’t allow when she’s being her emotionally awkward, neurotic self. And Zoey going through this will make her even more empathetic and compassionate to other people’s experiences, especially when she hears their heart songs moving forward." - Jane

                         **********************************************

“One thing that we can tease is that we have two big Broadway Tony-winners coming in, in the next few episodes. Renée Elise Goldsberry from Hamilton plays Joan’s work rival, and Bernadette Peters comes in, in Episode 11, as an unexpected help to the family. The love triangle between Zoey, Max and Simon continues to evolve, in unexpected ways. And we have one number, at the end of Episode 12, that’s a six and a half or seven minute long one-take oner that is the thing I’m probably most proud of, all season.”- Austin  

                         **********************************************

“There is one number in which I sing one verse and that’s it after this. [read: after ep 1x08, where Zoey sings all the songs]” - Jane

                        **********************************************

"You will see her go down both roads and there are some fun intimate numbers, musical numbers between Zoey and Simon. And there’s some between Zoey and Max as well. I really like how Austin has crafted this “love triangle.” Can’t give away much more than that.” - Jane

                         **********************************************

IN SHORT: 

More people are gonna find out about the power...MAYBE in S1...maybe...LATER ;) 

The next/last weeks of Zoey’s dad’s life, and all that goes with it

Max/Zoey finale moments...and moments leading to that... (but also Z/S scenes...) 

SOURCES: 

2: The Futon Critic 

2: IMDB 

3: E! Online -  ‘ZEP’ Finally Puts Jane Levy In the Musical Hot Seat

4: Variety - Jane Levy on ‘Panic’ & Jim Carrey as Inspiration for Special ‘ZEP’ Episode

5. ET - Skylar Astin Dishes on the Magic of 'ZEP' and a Realistic Love Triangle 

6.  EW - Jane Levy on filming 'most raw, vulnerable, honest' ZEP episode yet

7. Collider - ‘ZEP’ Showrunner Previews Zoey-Centric Episode

8.  The Playlist - Jane Levy discusses the difficulty of ainging  6 different songs in 1 ‘ZEP’ episode

9. TV Line: Matts Inside Line - TV scoop [April 17th] 

10. TV Line: As Ausiello - 4 Bonus Scoops [May 1st] 

11. TV Line: ‘ZEP’ EP Previews Emotional Finale, Surprising Love Triangle Twists [May 1st] 

12. Extra TV: Jane Levy & Skylar Astin Tease ‘ZEP’ S1 Finale  [May 1st] VIDEO 

ALSO: The previous epsiodes, and some things in episode 1x11 (some lines/scenes), and some things in 1x12 promo reveal quite a bit. Same goes to inetrviews (written articles, video “interviews” with cast. They have actually revealed quite a bit...if you paid attention. Or...if you didn’t, then after watching the finale, as you look back... you might realize they showed/told you quite a bit already... though I think it won’t be as big of a surprise... (applies to some things in the finale)

[miericksongo]

i hate u, i love u (pt. 2)

under renovation

©2019-2021 Miericksongo

[vampiresfeltmyvibe]

A playlist of everything and anything

Ghosted;Kamille - Get Some

Harlœ - More Than Ever

Post Malone - Leave

H.E.R. - Losing

Zara Larsson - I Can't Fall in Love Without You

Witt Lowry;Tori Solkowski - Let Me Know (feat. Tori Solkowski)

The Chainsmokers;Emily Warren - My Type

Machine Gun Kelly - Let You Go

Russ - Cherry Hill

Dua Lipa - Thinking 'Bout You

Paramore - Tell Me How

Jordan Bratton - Drugs You Should Try It

Ruelle - The Other Side

Ariana Grande - Why Try

VÉRITÉ - Somebody Else

Luke Christopher - Lost

Jez Dior;Danny Score - Bleach

Julia Michaels - Worst In Me

MUNA - Crying On The Bathroom Floor

Chris Brown;Kendrick Lamar - Autumn Leaves

Martin Garrix;Dua Lipa - Scared to Be Lonely

Chappell Roan - Good Hurt

Naaz - Can’t

Dua Lipa - No Goodbyes

Julia Michaels - Don't Wanna Think

Daniel Caesar - We Find Love

Michael Bernard Fitzgerald - Temptation

FOURS - Tell Me in the Morning

Lewis Capaldi - Fade

Billie Eilish - watch

EXES;Jome - Better Better

Demi Lovato - Tell Me You Love Me

Clean Bandit;Julia Michaels - I Miss You (feat. Julia Michaels)

Lewis Capaldi - Mercy

Morrissey & Marshall - I Need You

Aimee Mann - Good for Me

Sam Smith;YEBBA - No Peace

ZAYN - fOoL fOr YoU

Ruth B. - Mixed Signals

Sam Smith - The Thrill Of It All

Tove Styrke - Mistakes

Janine - Unstable

Camila Cabello - Never Be the Same

Kevin Garrett - Little Bit of You

The Neighbourhood - $TING

Travis Scott - BUTTERFLY EFFECT

Jalen Santoy - Foreplay

XXXTENTACION - Jocelyn Flores

Kendrick Lamar - HUMBLE.

Lorde - Green Light

Machine Gun Kelly;Hailee Steinfeld - At My Best (feat. Hailee Steinfeld)

Years & Years - Breathe

Childish Gambino - V. 3005

Junior Senior - Move Your Feet

XXXTENTACION - Look At Me!

Khalid - American Teen

PLVTINUM - Come My Way

DJ Khaled;Rihanna;Bryson Tiller - Wild Thoughts (feat. Rihanna & Bryson Tiller)

Logic;Alessia Cara;Khalid - 1-800-273-8255

Molo;Benny Jamz;Gilli;MellemFingaMuzik - Bølgen

Quintino;Cheat Codes - Can't Fight It

FO&O - So So Good

Alexander Oscar - Ocean View

Paramore - Hard Times

Snakehips;ZAYN - Cruel

Flume;Vince Staples;KUČKA - Smoke & Retribution

Frank Ocean - Pink + White

PARTYNEXTDOOR - Not Nice

Chris Brown - Questions

J. Cole - Wet Dreamz

KESI;Benny Jamz - Mamacita

A$AP Rocky;Rod Stewart;Miguel;Mark Ronson - Everyday

Childish Gambino - IV. sweatpants

Scarlet Pleasure - Deja Vu

Frederik Leopold - The Payback Song

Lil Uzi Vert - XO TOUR Llif3

ZAYN;Kehlani - wRoNg

Why Don't We - Something Different

Drake;Future - Plastic Bag

Chris Brown - Fine China

Joel Adams - Please Don't Go

JP Cooper - September Song

Skrillex;Poo Bear - Would You Ever

Mura Masa;A$AP Rocky - Love$ick

Joe Hertz;Amber-Simone;Cabu - Stay Lost - Cabu Remix

Duke Dumont - Ocean Drive

Scarlet Pleasure - Good Together

OutKast - Ms. Jackson

J Balvin;Willy William - Mi Gente

Machine Gun Kelly;X Ambassadors;Bebe Rexha - Home (with Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha)

Blackbear;FRND - anxiety (with FRND)

Post Malone - I Fall Apart

DJ Khaled;Justin Bieber;Quavo;Chance the Rapper;Lil Wayne - I'm the One (feat. Justin Bieber, Quavo, Chance the Rapper & Lil Wayne)

Years & Years - Take Shelter

PRETTYMUCH;French Montana - No More

Jeremih;YG - Don't Tell 'Em

Future Animals - Ask For It

VAX;Teddy Sky;DIMA - Fireproof - DIMA Remix

Drake;WizKid;Kyla - One Dance

David Guetta;Afrojack;Charli XCX;French Montana - Dirty Sexy Money (feat. Charli XCX & French Montana)

Eminem;Ed Sheeran - River (feat. Ed Sheeran)

Major Lazer;Justin Bieber;MØ - Cold Water (feat. Justin Bieber & MØ)

Lil Pump - Gucci Gang

Travis Scott - goosebumps

XXXTENTACION - Revenge

Eminem - Mockingbird

NF - If You Want Love

NF - Let You Down

XXXTENTACION;Trippie Redd - Fuck Love (feat. Trippie Redd)

XXXTENTACION - Everybody Dies In Their Nightmares

Jaden Smith - Batman

Stefflon Don;French Montana - Hurtin' Me

Maximillian - Strangers

Logic;Rag'n'Bone Man - Broken People (with Logic & Rag'n'Bone Man)

Xander - Spild Tiden

Ericka Jane - Bad Like You

Young Thug - Wyclef Jean

Maître Gims - Est-ce que tu m'aimes ? - Pilule Bleue

Nothing But Thieves - Sorry

Martin Garrix;David Guetta;Jamie Scott;Romy Dya - So Far Away (feat. Jamie Scott & Romy Dya)

ALMA;French Montana - Phases

Skinz - Malibu

Arlissa;Jonas Blue - Hearts Ain't Gonna Lie (with Jonas Blue)

Machine Gun Kelly - Habits

Young Thug;Travis Scott - pick up the phone

Lost Kings;Emily Warren - Phone Down

Rak-Su;Wyclef Jean;Naughty Boy - Dimelo - X Factor Recording

SZA - The Weekend

Troye Sivan - My My My!

Ansel Elgort - Supernova

Dua Lipa - IDGAF

FOOL - Outcast

FOOL - Strapped

Khalid - Another Sad Love Song

Lauv - I Like Me Better

Bon Iver - Holocene

Sigur Rós - Hoppípolla

James TW - Say Love

dvsn - Think About Me

Dagny - Love You Like That

J. Cole - Intro

J. Cole - KOD

J. Cole - Photograph

J. Cole;kiLL edward - The Cut Off (feat. kiLL edward)

J. Cole - ATM

J. Cole - Motiv8

J. Cole - Kevin’s Heart

J. Cole - BRACKETS

J. Cole - Once an Addict - Interlude

J. Cole;kiLL edward - FRIENDS (feat. kiLL edward)

J. Cole - Window Pain - Outro

J. Cole - 1985 - Intro to “The Fall Off”

Khalid;Normani - Love Lies (with Normani)

FO&O - If I Had

Shawn Mendes - Where Were You In The Morning?

Daughter - Youth

Big Sean;Miguel - Ashley

Parachute - Forever And Always

Shawn Mendes - Nervous

Shawn Mendes - Why

Kodaline - Shed a Tear

ELI - Change Your Mind

SZA - Broken Clocks

Charlie Puth - The Way I Am

Ruel - Say

Jeremy Zucker - all the kids are depressed

BROCKHAMPTON - 1999 WILDFIRE

Florence + The Machine - The End Of Love

Years & Years - Don't Panic

Ruelle - Hold Your Breath

Panic! At The Disco - Old Fashioned

Bazzi - Dreams

Bazzi - Soarin

Bazzi - Myself

Bazzi - Star

Bazzi - Why

Bazzi - 3:15

Bazzi - Honest

Bazzi - Mirror

Bazzi - Gone

Bazzi - Fantasy

Bazzi - BRB

Bazzi - Cartier

Bazzi - Beautiful

Bazzi - Mine

Bazzi - Changed

Bazzi - Somebody

https://open.spotify.com/user/isla2000/playlist/2MhzXC56QVjAl2wAZPILhq?si=c_A5EG-FQcqS3gBTQNRtSA

[littlehighlittlelove]

Hurt

listen to with “Feels Like This” Maisie Peters

So. Here’s what hurts.

1.      Your chocolate brown eyes that seem to melt into hazel pools of warmth when you laugh.

2.      The way your laugh is squeaky and nasally—the exact opposite of the deep warmth of your voice when you’re talking about stocks and trading and football and classic rock.

3.      How you light up and dance when you hear anything Billy Joel ever did.

4.      That one day, I’ll wake up and you won’t be across the quad. That you’ll be states away.

The list could go on and on, but what would that do for me? Just remind me of how desperately I tried, and still try, to conceal the burning contentment that flows through me when you just look at me. It just reminds me of the way your smile is so calm in every picture we’ve ever taken, and it will remind me of how you’ve never hidden your true self from me. The list would just make those things hurt more than they already do.

But why do all of the good things hurt and not the bad? I’m not hurt by the way you go after every girl but me. I’m not hurt by the way you overlook me in the bar or the way you have to tell me about that perfect blond who snapped you. I’m not in pain when you whisper about your latest hookup at brunch. I’m not hurt by the way you look beyond me to watch some girl walk by. The things that should hurt—just don’t. But why?

Could it be because I know you’ll always look at me differently? Or because I know you’ll always know when something is wrong, even if I don’t? Maybe because you will never shrug out of a hug between us or find a way to not sit next to me? Is it because you’ll always take the hit of every stone every thrown at me and then pick those very stones up and throw them back? Could is be that you’re just that guy?

It is.

It’s because I know that I will always be “her”. I’ll always be that girl in the back of your mind. The one that made you roll your eyes when she needed you to stay behind to help her stumble to the bar. The one who smiled at you in relief when you relieved her from an awkward conversation with a stranger at a party. The girl who you caught taking a video of you and you could only smile and do something that would make her smile back at you. The girl you called at all hours of the night to check on because you knew nobody else could sense her falling apart.

It’s because I’m that girl and it’s because you are just that guy.

You’re the one that got away from me, and I’m the one you never realized you wanted or needed. We’re the ones we’ll always regret. At every empty moment filled only by a hauntingly nostalgic song that seems to taunt us with memories we never thought to make. Like that formal we didn’t go to together. Or that late night after the bar that we didn’t spend together. Or the last drink we didn’t share. The memories that would have turned into a lifetime. But we will never know that until that song ends, and we silently and desperately plead with ourselves to replay it and embrace the regret. Embrace the disappointment.

“What disappointment?” We’ll think as we sit rows across at a friend’s wedding.

You’ll notice that my hair got longer and lighter. I’ll notice that your smile has grown brighter but rarer. Both of us will regret not taking that one last photo together as we drove off to the rest of our lives. You’ll realize that the seat next to me isn’t empty. It isn’t filled with a friend of the bride either. You’ll see his hand rest on top of mine. That same nostalgic song will start to spiral in your mind. But don’t worry. I’ll notice your phone and the way her perfect smile transfers to your very own lips every time you check the screen. I’ll see you disappear into your own technological world every few seconds as you frantically respond. Neither of us will realize that we both realize these things.

Instead, I’ll leave early with the man I settled for. The one who reminded me the most of you but could never truly be you. You’ll stay late, downing a few extra drinks after our goodbye hug that lasted a few seconds and deep breaths too long. That night we’ll both stare at the over-saturated moonlit ceiling of our empty bedrooms recounting every single moment we spent together. We’ll recall the night we fought in the bar. We’ll recall the night I drunkenly cried in front of you and you realized I wasn’t empty inside. We’ll recall the moment we accidentally sat too close on the sofa.

Eventually, we’ll fall asleep with a few soft tears and sighs gone by. By the time the sun wipes away the moon light, you will be nothing but a time gone by to me and I will be nothing but a distraction to you. The next day, both of us will only exist in those ever present empty but nostalgic moments. The moments that haunted both of us, but secretly, your heart will have grown as fond of them as mine. Because every time the nostalgia hit, so did your smile.

Your smile would always come first. Then your laugh. Then the way you would tap my shoulder and turn your cheek parallel to mine before whispering some petty comment to me about the person talking our ear off. I’d feel myself turn red in an attempt to not laugh out loud and see you looking at me with a hint of fearlessness in your eyes. You’d watch me patiently, waiting to see if I’d blow our cover, but instead you’d shake your head in amazement as I’d sip my drink in nodded with fake enthusiasm for the person’s comments. Finally, you’d give into the act and encourage their boring chatter with a pointless question. You’d always do this just to trap me there.

At least that’s what I had thought then. But in the moments of mystical memory, I’ll realize you were trapping me next you. You’ll realize that I could have just walked away, but instead I’d wrapped my hand around your arm and hold on, sharing a snarky smile with you as the person rambled on and on. In fact, with every instance we’d remember, we’d slowly start to see what our friends tried to highlight to us. Everything we scoffed at and repressed the tingling of excitement that would start to charge through our veins would suddenly become clearer and clearer.

For you, it would be the way I would always talk about the guys would flirt with me without mentioning their names. Instead, I’d make you guess, like a Love Boat version of 20 Questions. Finally, you’d see that it wasn’t just me being stubborn, instead it was my way of forcing you into a longer conversation, and possibly my way of making you jealous. My way of pointing out how many guys were in my life, yet you were the one I’d sit on the phone with.

For me, it would be the phone call in the middle of the night after you’d had a long night of work. The phone call where you’d say, “I just felt like something was wrong. I felt like you needed to talk.” The phone calls that always made me think you were just bored and being a good friend in your free time. So far down the road, I’d finally see that it was your way of proving that you knew me. That you could sense the smallest thing was off and that you wanted to be the one that made it better.

Somewhere down the road, we’d see all of these things. We’d see them as the other’s wedding invitation fell lifelessly on our kitchen counters or as we hesitantly shook hands with the other’s spouse at a first birthday party. With every family gathering, reunion, wedding and barbeque we’d find ourselves begging our souls and minds to not wander to each other’s eyes. Instead we’d fight the war being waged on our hearts to hold our spouse’s hand instead of each others. We’d focus on breaking away a friendly hug in time so there would be no whispering. With each memory that we cracked the code on we would have more and more that we wanted to say, but we’d fall further and further apart in fear that the other never actually felt that way. That our own feelings were manifesting into some mental fan fiction of the one that got away.

It wouldn’t be until the day of a big argument or one last wrong glance or the last slamming door that we’d realize tongues couldn’t be bitten anymore and messages couldn’t be rethought again. It will be that day that one of us finally breaks. The day your beautiful brown eyes can’t hold back the tears or the day I can’t keep my stubborn lips sealed for one more second. That day—that day we’ll finally realize that we missed our chance but wanted to take one more shot in the dark. You’ll watch the way my mouth moves as I admit that I never really got over it…over you. I’ll watch your eyes dart around my face and your hands work against each other in nerves as you hold back a smile noticing that the tan line on my finger is burning brightly in the middle of our conversation.

So then what?

What hurts the most then?

1.      Your chocolate brown eyes that seem to melt into hazel pools of warmth when you laugh.

2.      The way your laugh is squeaky and nasally—the exact opposite of the deep warmth of your voice when you’re talking about stocks and trading and football and classic rock.

3.      How you light up and dance when you hear anything Billy Joel ever did.

4.      That you could have been right next to me all along, but I never realized I hurt you the way you hurt me.

[potorgaret--inactive]

Day 263 / Sep 19

Hos. 8-14

8: Israel has broken the covenant They claim to worship God, but they really don't They set up kings and princes that God doesn't approved of They make for themselves idols out of gold and silver, Yahweh's anger burns against them "For they sow the wind, and they will reap the whirlwind." Now Israel is swallowed up and gone into Assyria They sold themselves to the nations, but God will bring them back? Yahweh doesn't accept their sacrifices Israel forgot God and they will return to Egypt Judah's cities will be lit on fire

9: Don't rejoice, Israel, for you were unfaithful Israel was like a prostitute and she won't dwell in God's land They will go back to Egypt and will eat poorly in Assyria They will not offer sacrifice to God, for they will not have enough In the days to come, Israel won't listen to the prophets, considering them insane They have corrupted themselves, and God remembers their sins, and he will punish them God found Israel as grapes in the wild, but they went to Baal Peor and became shameful Israel will try to have children, but God will give them miscarriages Because God hated them, God will curse them and Ephraim will bear no fruit

10: Israel was once abundant and luxurious, but they haved sinned and God will destroy their altars and stones They say they don't fear God or the king, for what can he do for them? They will be like calves in Beth Aven They will be carried to Assyria for great shame Samaria will float away Israel sinned and God will chastise them The two nations will are like trained cows that thresh, and God will make them plow Samaria and her fortresses will be destroyed because of their great wickedness

11: This chapter is a poem about God's feelings towards Ephraim Israel was God's child and he called him out of Egypt But Israel went and sacrificed to Baal No matter though, God still brought him up and taught him to walk He loved his son He will not go back to Egypt, but to Assyria because he didn't repent The sword will fall on him and he will turn from God

"How can I give you up, Ephraim?...My heart is turned within me, my compassion is aroused. I will not execute the fierceness of my anger. I will not return to destroy Ephraim: for I am God, and not man; the Holy One among you;...They will come trembling like a bird of Egypt, and like a dove out of the land of Assyria; and I will settle them in their houses"

But Ephraim is still in deceit and Judah strays

12: Ephraim "chases the east wind." and makes covenants with Assyria and Egypt Jacob has always been a horrible person, from fucking over Esau to fighting God's angels to worse Ephraim thought to become wealthy through sin But God is the one who brought Israel out of Egypt and he will bring them home again God speaks to the prophets In the north, they are worthless and they worship idols By a prophet God brought the nation out of Egypt Ephraim has provoked anger and his Lord will repay him

13: Ephraim exalted himself in Israel, but fell when he prayed to Baal Now they make idols, none of them gods, and offer to them human sacrifices They will be as the dew of the morning, like smoke in a chimney Yahweh is the God that brought them out of Egypt, out of the wilderness into a great land Now they have forgotten him So he will be like a lion, a leopard, to them and he will tear them apart Where is your king now, Israel? The king you begged the judges to give? [V. 14 is hella confusing] Ephraim will suffer pain Compassion will not be in God's eyes, the land will dry up, Samaria will bear her guilt, and the people's children will be diced

14: Return to Yahweh, Israel! Ask him to forgive your sins and accept it Don't rely on Assyria to save you, neither pray to works of man God says he will heal them and love them God will make Israel blossom over the land, as beautiful as a fragrance from Lebanon Many will dwell in its shade

The words of God are right and the righteous walk in them, but the rebellious stumble

tomorrow, it's the book of Joel (so I guess were doing this catholic order?)

"But he answered, 'It is written, "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God."'" Matthew 4:4 WEB

[theaudioglow]

"About Today" by The National: The Climax of "Warrior" is Emotional Impact Done Right

Reading Time: About 1/3rd of a Pay-per-view cage match

Spoiler alert!

First off, if you haven’t seen “Warrior” and you want to remind yourself what you look like with tears in your eyes, quit everything and go watch it now. Then come back and read the analysis, and salt a bowl of popcorn with bonus tears. “About Today” by The National plays during the climax of “Warrior”, and I’ll do everything in my power to not copy and paste 30 Youtube clips to just show the whole movie.

It’s that good. I don’t say that because I’m a testosterone-infused minotaur man, stomping around my apartment punching holes in the drywall while drinking a six-pack of Mountain Dew Code Red. The fight scenes are brutal and choreographed better than Lady Gaga choreographs neon body paint, but the cage-grappling is a vehicle for three gorgeous performances and a deep story of trauma, healing and forgiveness.

The context:

Tommy (Tom Hardy) is a former Marine who fled as a youth with his mother, due to his dad’s (Nick Nolte) violent alcoholic abuse. Brendan (Joel Edgerton) is Tommy’s brother, struggling to provide for his family, and fighting in underground bar parking lot cage matches for side money. Both are estranged from their dad, Paddy, who attempts to reconnect with Tommy and Brendan.

They’ve both entered the Sparta MMA tournament with $5 million on the line. After multiple grueling matches, they face off in the championship round, and Brendan has just snapped Tommy’s arm like a piece of sun-baked driftwood.

Tommy, consumed by his rage and pain of abandonment, finally finds forgiveness with Brendan on the mat.

I can imagine it would be hard to brand a fight movie for the Rom-Com crowd. “Warrior” made $23 million off a $25 million budget, which is criminal. It’s not only the greatest movie ever made in the crowded genre of “two estranged brothers in a cage match” – it transcends genre as a movie you need to see.

I spent five paragraphs talking story and didn’t even mention the Tom Hardy-Joel Edgerton combo. I’ll watch a movie just because Tom Hardy. I’ll watch a movie just because Joel Edgerton. Both of them together as traumatized brother fighters? It’s like taking a boat out at midnight and floating past a pair of Assateague stallions braying and galloping in unison under a full moon. There’s just nothing you should want to do other than sit still and watch that for two hours, and then close it out with “About Today” by The National.

Nick Nolte’s performance was too good to not throw one of the greatest alcohol-soaked scenes of all time into this article. He got a Best Supporting Actor nomination and could have won on the strength of this scene alone. Sober for years, Paddy relapses in the hotel when Tom Hardy tears him down and berates him in the downstairs casino.

Again, if you haven’t already seen this, and you aren’t here just splashing around in the reminiscent goodness of “Warrior”, go steal your in-law’s Hulu password and watch it.  

“Warrior” is a powerhouse emotional conflict without The National snipping your heart tendons with kid scissors. The ending, however, is perfectly placed and necessary for the resonant impact. All the pain and rage, years of entrapped abandonment, for six minutes, is exchanged in a transaction of fists. \

Then, the breakdown, and reconciliation.

Many conflicts with people you loved hard go unresolved and fade into a quiet, bitter piece of stone, and grow over with moss. “Warrior” is about one of those devastating, strung out, residually damaging conflicts, and it ends with the love that was always there.

That’s why “Warrior” is such a unique film: maybe you’ve been trying for years to overcome a hardened conflict, without resolution.   

All you had to do was step into a cage.

***

 Movies with Tom Hardy to get you bothered:

The Revenant Bronson Locke

Movies with Joel Edgerton to get you bothered:

Animal Kingdom The Gift The King

Enjoy the buzz? Tip your literary bartender. Share it with a friend.

[strayyank]

Parking Lot Dreams

Burnouts.  Derelicts.  Waste-oids.  There are a dozen or so colorful words an upwardly mobile wasp might use to describe these colossal fuck-ups. Degenerate maturations of beguiled youth.  In Southern California the sun fades more than the paint on the hood of your Tacoma.  It wrinkles visages, clots blood and broils every last braincell of these fully aged american misfit slackers.  Wrung out and left to dry after the turmoil and inevitable capitalistic trouncing of their long lost summer of love ideals.  This is where the hippy movement was laid to rest.  The free parking lot at C street, sandwiched between the 101 and the pacific ocean.  No where left to go but swim.  A 70’s GMC van.  Nebraska license plate.  Rusty.  American flag.  Faded.  The torso of a mannequin, spray painted with glitter sits on a wicker chair.  Behind it, melanoma flesh moves in jerks.  Harsh movements of unpredictability.  This man can fix your board, fix your life, make you “SUPERSONIC!” his sign reads.  A neck tattoo and calf high socks sprout from osiris sneakers. Strange inebriate smiles behind 90’s black fly’s.  Crooked spines with crooked teeth.  

One day, an irascible man one courtesy flush from social security became suddenly rabid when someone stole his wave.  Later, while the wave thief loaded his elderly wheelchair bound father into his minivan, Courtesy Flush rifled through his trunk and produced 3 wooden surfboard stencils 4 feet in length, and threw them directly at the man’s mouth.  They split his lip and bruised his face.  There was a skirmish.  Bloody Lips stole Courtesy Flush’s cell phone.  Courtesy Flush rummaged through his trunk again, this time producing a metal easel.  Apparently he was an artist known for his serene underwater seascapes.  He chased down bloody lips and assaulted him again, striking his back and arm with the metal easel.  “You started this!!” he yelled.  Bloody Lip’s two children watched in horror.  He survived the ordeal and used Courtesy Flush’s phone to call the cops.

In Southern California the wacko’s coexist with the yuppies.  Range Rovers and Econovans.  Botox and epidural leather.  Santa Barbara pinot and MD 20/20. May there be an epithet, “Here lies the California Dream.  Many came.  Many burned.”  Now the whole thing is on fire.  What hasn’t been scorched drifts through the hills on a warm Santa Ana.  Fragments are rumored to be found in an IN-N-Out drive thru, the HOV lane, the local taqueria.  It’s a strange patchwork of mental illness, self obsession and delinquency, in a landscape of palm trees, azure waves and mountains.

Yet amidst all of this grownup aberration, unsullied groms with shiny Ripcurl stickers slapped on crisp white boards jog down the beach under the noses of the parking lot derelict.  The burgeoning surf industry’s young hopefuls.  Who will be the next Tom Curren?  The next Dane Reynolds?  Their fathers set up tripods on the sand, gathering footage for their next web edit.  It requires this kind of commitment to a dream to surf in this area.  The lineups are packed. Surfers sit shoulder to shoulder at various peaks.  The jockeying for waves is relentless.  It’s not uncommon to wait half an hour for a wave.  This isn’t a deli counter.  No numbers are taken.  No fucks are given.  It’s your fitness and apparent ability that gets you waves.  Surfer’s Code is adhered to lightly.  

One of surfing’s greatest fallacies, usually perpetuated by non-surfers, is that it is some sort of laid back spiritual existence.  Just long haired dudes throwing “shakas" telling you to, “hang loose.”  A welcoming sport anyone can jump into and enjoy just because they snowboarded that one time.  While harmonious, almost ephemeral moments can exist in some of the more remote regions on the fringe of surf culture, no one is having communion with nature on this stretch of freeway.  The common reality is closer to that of road rage.  Middle aged men who don superhero like wetsuits but who’s super power seems to be a regression of 30 years of maturity.  “Just being out on the water is so peaceful!” says the surfer within their first 6 months of surfing.  Beyond that, the novelty of bobbing on a board fades sharply.  If you want to ride waves, the competition is fierce.  Waves are a limited commodity.  This realization represents a fork in the road for many surfers; either to accept that their interest in surfing is merely based on a lifestyle choice, that progression really isn’t an option as the prerequisite time to get better can’t be spared.  Others fall head first down the rabbit hole.  Buy a full quiver.  Buy three wetsuits.  Watch all the web edits.  Don’t smile, just paddle.  Shame beginners with words like “kook,” and pretend your ability is better than it is.  Assume the mystique of one of your favorite pros whose freakish ability is as likely due to a mild form of Asbergers as it is time in the water.  Joel Tudor once said, “Ponce de Leon traveled all around the world looking for the fountain of youth.  All he had to do was jump off the side of the boat.”  What he forgot to mention is the fountain is only big enough for a few.  

Back in the parking lot, a glance up the point revealed a small figure position himself for a set wave no one else seemed to see coming.  He popped to his feet effortlessly, and brought his small frame low to his tiny, bright-white, stickered board.  Extending and then bending his legs he performed a surprisingly powerful double pump bottom turn and projected himself into the oncoming section.  He launched into the air keeping the board glued to his feet, a blast of white water trailing his fins.  He landed fins first and rotated smoothly towards the beach, maintained his momentum and eyed up the next section. He compressed low, extended and belted the next steep section with a quick vertical snap.  A fan of white spray erupted from the lip, water beads dancing in the afternoon light.  His weight stayed centered over his board and he took off racing down the high line of the wave to meet the next section.  A quick lip line floater to set up the next big wall.  A shallow bottom turn and he approached the section with speed, dropped his back hand, bent deep into his back foot and laid into the projecting lip.  It was a perfect meeting of power and release. The wave seemed eager, excited, masochistic in tearing itself apart under his fins.  He regained control with his front foot and pulled the board back underneath him, riding out the wave into the flats.  In the lineup heads turned. On the beach necks craned.  One proud father looked up from his long lens camera, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth.  In the parking lot, Mr. Supersonic jerked unpredictably in the sun’s setting rays while the grom paddled back out for another, shining just a bit brighter than the others.